#i stayed up until 2 am last night no one will guess what i was doing until then
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i kept telling myself to mentally prepare for when this day would come.
but i didn’t want to.
and now the day is here, and it’s real.
so now i’m sharing my thoughts.
liza was avidly typing in the group chat, and i started thinking to myself “ok. something’s going on. what is it?”
but i didn’t want to look at it right away, so i tried to ignore it.
then bex & rach start typing in it, too.
and now i’m thinking it’s legit news that i should be reading.
but i still don’t look at it.
and then i get an ask about a “wellness check from my favorite vesey stan.”
so i quite literally freeze on my bed.
and i think to myself, “no.”
no.
no.
no.
it’s either one of two things.
either he got injured (for whatever reason) or he got tr*ded.
so i wait.
and i wait.
and i wait. rocking back & forth on my bed because i feel like i’m going to lose my mind.
until i get the notification from the rangers app that makes it official.
so what do i do?
i start crying.
yes, i actually did.
it was only for about 10 minutes, but i felt there was no way on how to react somewhat rationally.
and then i went to go tell my dad, and we talked about it for a little bit.
now i’m just sad.
and angry.
and hurt.
when i first got back into hockey, jimmy & ryan instantly became my favorite players. they showed their determination, their passion, and full-time commitment to playing the game and in a way that best accommodates them & their success. they wear their hearts on their sleeves, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. not to mention that both of them are extremely likable, honest with the media, and don’t exhibit any sort of self-absorbed attitude. sure, both of them might be a little quiet and more on the introverted and private side, but there’s nothing wrong with that either. in fact, i respect it because that’s literally how my personality is too.
so when i started this blog almost a year ago (wow, time has flown), i had to think about a username.
and low & behold, easypeasylindyvesey.
then i had to think of a bio.
to which i wrote how they are the only men who will never disappoint me.
and now? well, let’s say i’m not disappointed in them, but i am disappointed in how management came about this (especially toward jimmy).
when i saw that ryan only signed for one year in july, it was a clear indicator that the rangers were not planning on keeping him.
look how that turned out.
but with jimmy, i became mad for him. when he didn’t play the rest of pre-season, went on LTIR, and then came back in november, it was definitely an adjustment for him, that’s for sure.
then we have the occasional healthy scratches.
and i’m like “okay, it’s only one game. that’s fine.”
until it turns to 2 in a row.
then 3 in a row.
and then 9 in a row.
THAT is when i started getting nervous, because i thought to myself “if he hasn’t played in almost three weeks, he’s not gonna be staying around much longer, is he?”
and once again, look how that turned out.
this man was the figurative punching bag for laviolette. he continuously brought up in his press conferences “oh, he’s such an important player to this team” and “oh, i have so much confidence in him.”
guess what, peter? if you truly believed that, you would’ve let him play.
i can’t even blame jimmy for that new york post article. him feeling like he was dying and having no significant purpose or role was considered an unsuspecting cry for help.
but i guess he got his wish of being able to consistently play after the news of edström’s injury.
he recorded 18:10 ice time in sunday’s game at pittsburgh. his season high.
i was so so happy for him.
he scored his 100th career goal in that game as well.
i was so so happy for him then, too.
that’s when i thought “ok, he can’t get traded now. look at those accomplishments he’s quickly achieved!”
i guess they didn’t care about that.
if you had told me last night would be the final game both jimmy & ryan would be playing in an NYR sweater this season, i would’ve laughed in your face.
it wouldn’t compare to the absolute gut-wrenching, currently unfathomable pain i would’ve felt less than a full 24 hours later.
it wouldn’t compare to the thought of both of them waking up this morning and finding out that they won’t be showing up to practice today.
that instead, they’d be packing their bags and fly to colorado. the other side of the country. separated by almost 1,800 miles.
it wouldn’t compare to the sight of jimmy getting the broadway hat last weekend for the 2nd and last time.
it wouldn’t compare to the experience of ryan playing his 400th NHL game as a ranger.
because that’s all gone now.
just ripped away from them.
most of the time, unless you truly watch the game, both of them flew incredibly under the radar by most of the fanbase, severely undervalued and under-appreciated.
but if you couldn’t tell by my blog, definitely not from me.
yeah, they didn’t really get on the scoresheet too much this season, but they make their impact where it’s due.
i just wish it didn’t creep up so fast.
for christmas, i got a customized outline of jimmy’s jersey that i currently have hanging on the rear view mirror in my car.
and my dad asked me “jimmy vesey? he’s your favorite player?”
and i go “yeah.”
then he says “but he’s a fourth liner.”
ok and? he’s MY favorite fourth liner.
both he and ryan are my emotional support players (currently jimmy more than ryan). i don’t know the reason for why anyone would intently choose to hate on them. they’re both good players & good human beings, and they deserve the world. to have someone who would fly up to the moon and bring it back down to earth with them if it meant they got to have it raised above their heads.
i feel that if you’re a true fan of a sports team, your heart tends to lean in the direction of the players who don’t have that much conversation surrounding them.
and that’s exactly where my heart led to.
and it was probably one of the best choices i could’ve made.
all of this is coming from the heart. i love both of them so much that my heart could literally burst.
but for right now, it has shattered into an infinite amount of microscopic pieces.
eventually, it will be fully pieced back together. not now. not tomorrow. probably not in the next week. but it will.
and so now they get the chance for a fresh start, even though the season is almost over.
and i’m excited for them. so so so excited. truly.
if colorado does make it into playoffs, you’ll know i’ll be cheering them on every step of the way, regardless of how far they get.
i mean, they get to play with mackinnon, makar, toews, and a bunch of amazing players. colorado has a really great team. fast, skilled, physical, and an electric atmosphere that resonates within ball arena. not to mention an electric play-by-play announcer that rests in the hands of marc moser.
i have no doubt in my mind they’re going to fit in. it’ll take some time getting used to, but ultimately, the benefits will outweigh the disadvantages.
i’ve been keeping tabs on the avs for awhile now, so i have every reason to believe they’ll be in good hands.
i hope ryan can continue to leave his heart and soul (along with the blood, because, well, it’s his signature look) all out on the ice. maybe finally score a goal with that wicked wrist shot of his.
i hope jimmy gets the ice time he deserves and puts his skills to his advantage. he can be effective when he needs to be, and it was severely underlooked this year with the rangers and the organization.
but i’m happy they’re going together. while the initial thought might seem daunting and scary, at least they’ll have each other. jimmy has plenty of experience with relocating to different teams (this will now be his 6th team he’ll be playing on), so he can definitely help ryan adjust to that since ryan has never experienced that.
and i hope the avs welcome them with open arms, and the coaching staff & management giving them the opportunities they so well deserve.
it’s also good that the avs upload fun media content, and although jimmy doesn’t like that type of stuff, it’ll be exciting to (hopefully) see them engage in more of light-hearted videos, giving them some breathing room after the hell that is currently considered the rangers locker room with all the past drama surrounding it.
i’m looking forward to seeing them in burgundy and blue. i think they’re gonna look really good. it’s a shame how the season series between the avs & rags is over, because they won’t be able to see the rest of the team the rest of the season.
but while i am incredibly sad and emotional right now, it will not compare to the future excitement and gratitude i will feel when they start finding their way around and emerging into the stars i have always seen them as.
tribute posts will be uploaded later, but if you got this far, thanks for reading, and thank you for giving me the space to make me feel comfortable and understood in terms of this entire process. perhaps i’m always going to wonder what could’ve been, but for right now, i’ll take it as an exciting new chapter in both of their careers, where they can embark on it together, and will experience how it feels to be infinitely loved and valued by people that love and value them back.
of course, if you want to take over that title, you’re going to have to get through me first.
but ultimately, we can all unite and share those feelings together.
i’m going to miss both of them to the point beyond imagination, but they each have their own equal, occupied space in my heart. no matter how far they might physically go, if you happened to rip my heart out of my chest (which it already has been), they’re always going to remain there.
i will never be able to express to them how much they’ve positively impacted me in terms of a person and hockey fan, but they have my respect and support every single day until the end.
which is not even close.
for either of them.
in fact, their new lives are just beginning.
and i’m incredibly lucky to have a front row seat to witness all of it. i can’t wait.
🫂❤️
#avs lb#colorado avalanche#rangers lb#new york rangers#ryan lindgren#jimmy vesey#abby’s rants#<-i guess lol
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paradise
(INSPIRED DIRECTLY FROM THIS ITS COOL)
#THANKS MY BRAIN WOIMS#so funny . so story about how this happened#i stayed up until 2 am last night no one will guess what i was doing until then#and then woke up went to work came home and in a complete fugue state banged this entire thing out in two hours#(standing in the middle of my room covered in blood) .. ok. im good now. i think im good now. alright. goodbye#padabana#blsmp#balloon smp#animatic#my art#the animatic monster rears its head once again. ominously crunches on some ritz#... i think roughanimator is using splines for camera movement now instead of linear interpolation and if i cant control that its#a downgrade i do not want eased camera unless i say so :/ but.. then again... manually 'splining' that camera is a pain...#whateva#YAAAAYYYYY YOU WON!!!!!!! isnt it nice to win!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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THE FATHER 2
Part 1
After the last incident, Danny totally expects the public to be afraid of him or even persecute him for killing the Joker. He did kill in front of a live stream after all. What he doesn't expect is the public giving their full support to him. Almost every single news media paints him in a good light, saying he is just protecting his children and bringing up all his previous charity.
However, there is one big problem Danny doesn't foresee. Danny doesn't even know about the problem because his children are the one that are suffering from it.
-Gotham Academy-
Emma: *Slamming her phone on the table* For the love of god, stop making thirst trap of my dad. He is too old for some of you (He is 20).
Becky: I know right. This is like the sixth thirst trap video that I see of dad.
Carl: I hate this so much. My crush just accepted my confession but on the condition I will introduce her to dad.
Larry: And you agree?
Carl: What? No! Of course not.
Emma: Ugghhh, this is the worst. Maybe we should ask Uncle Tucker to remove all of Dad's thirst trap online. I'm so done with this.
Larry: I don't know. This is the first time girls decide to talk to me voluntarily. I really am enjoying this attention.
Carl: You're happy now until one of the girls decides to confess to you and just as you thought because she likes you, it is because she has a crush on dad.
Larry: I know you just experienced it but you don't need to curse me like that.
Carl: Hmph.
Larry: Hey, has anyone seen Colin? I haven't seen him since last night.
Becky: *Whispersing* Don't you hear? Colin got shot after he went to patrol the night before yesterday. Dad grounds him cause he tries to sneak out injured last night.
Carl: Oof. Colin really doesn't learn does he? Dad has super sense. He literally can't sneak out.
Larry: Yeah. I don't even know why he wants to be a vigilante so much. I guess he is just kind of something. Couldn't be me to be honest.
Emma: Of course he is not like you. You are not even capable of waking up by yourself in the morning.
*Riiiinngggg*
Becky: Well that is our break then. Let's go to class.
Larry: Eh, it's not like Miss Brown gonna scold me if I am a little late anyway. She has been trying to get Dad's number from me for a while now.
Carl: Does dad even have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Hell, a partner? I never saw him gone on a date once so far.
Emma: Chances are probably super low. Like to say he is dense is an understatement. A woman tried to flirt with him once but he just replied to all the flirting with the straightest face possible.
The rest: *Giggles*
-Gotham Libraries-
Contrary to what his kids have been believing in, he actually knows when someone is flirting with him. It's just that he takes note from the dense anime protagonist and uses it in daily life whenever he is not interested in a person flirting with him. Which is like daily.
But here is the problem. He can respond to a flirt very easily. He learns a lot of that from when he was dating Sam. But he never actually flirts with someone first. And he isn't sure just how to approach the problem.
Having decided that he has stayed long enough, Danny picks a random book from the space section and brings it to the checkout table.
Danny: Hey Barbara.
Barbara: Hey Danny. Borrowing another book?
Danny: Yeah. I just finished the previous one last night. It is a good book. Thanks for the recommendation.
Barbara: You're welcome. How's the kids doing? Still causing trouble for you?
Danny: It's the same shenanigans everyday. Going to lectures, doing paperwork, taking care of the kids. What about you?
Barbara: It's the same with me. Barely any people come to the library these days. Usually it's only either you or my friends.
Danny: Oh. Errmm, Barbara.
Barbara: Yes?
Danny: Would you be free this weekend?
Barbara: Are you asking me on a date?
Danny: Depends. If it is, what would you say?
Barbara: Hmmm, let me think.
Danny fidgets as Barbara taps her finger on the counter. Barbara loves to tease Danny since he is so cute when he is nervous.
Barbara: I think I am free this weekend. So I am available for a date.
Danny's face beams a smile as he hears that.
Danny: So is that a yes?
Barbara: What do you think, big guy?
Danny: Then I will come pick you up at your apartment then?
Barbara: Come pick me up at my dad's house. I will be ready at 5.
Danny: Okay. Have a good day.
Barbara: You too.
Danny then walks out of the library, skipping a little. He has been gathering courage to ask Barbara out on a date for a long time now. They first met when Danny first borrowed a book from a library. It's nothing crazy. Just interaction between two people. But after meeting up a few more times, Danny realizes that he might have a crush on her. After getting convinced by Tucker and Sam, Danny decided that today is the day he asks her out. And he succeeded.
Now, it is just to make sure that the date goes well.
-Clocktower-
Batman: That's it for tonight. Everyone returns back to the cave.
Black Bat/Spoiler/Red Robin: Roger.
Oracle: Hey, B. Can I have a day off this weekend?
Batman: Why?
Oracle: I have a date that night.
Spoiler: You are dating someone?
Oracle: It's not official yet. He only just asks me out on a date this morning.
Batman: Yes. Keep your comms up. In case a breakout happens your way.
Oracle: Okay.
Red Robin: Who are you going on a date with?
Oracle: Danny.
Spoiler: As in that Danny?
Oracle: Yes.
Spoiler: Oh wow! You work fast. How do you know him?
Oracle: He always comes to the library to borrow books. I met him long before he became famous so it is not so hard to talk with him.
Black Bat: Is he nice?
Oracle: He is very nice. It's very hard to even make him mad. The only time I remember him being in a slightly bad mood is at Christmas. He doesn't like it apparently. Wait, Hood is entering the line.
Red Hood: Oracle, you betray me!
Oracle: Tough luck loser. How do you know anyway?
Red Robin: I told him just now.
Red Hood: Yeah! You dare ask him out on a date first before me? I will remember this.
Oracle: He is the one that actually asks me out. We are going on an official date this weekend. I'll take a very nice picture of us together so that you can see from afar.
Red Hood: But your status still isn't official yet. I still have a chance.
Oracle: Over my dead body.
Red Hood: Oh, I will.
Spoiler: Errr, guys. What is happening?
Red Robin: They have a bet on who will get to date Danny first. Apparently Hood gets a massive crush on this guy after what happens in the livestream. Oracle gets the news and they quarrel a little bit. After that I propose a competition between the two.
Spoiler: But both of you don't know that Oracle is already close with Danny. Girl, that's dirty.
Oracle: All is fair in love and war.
Batman: What is his background?
Red Robin: As far as I can see, he is pretty clean. There is even what I suspect some vigilante works that he might have done because he is related to the disbandment of GIW that were supported by both his parents and his godfather. But after some digging into the old GIW files, there are traces of Danny and his friends helping the local ghost hero fighting either other ghosts or the agents themselves. There was also the unexplained money that he suddenly had early on in his career as CEO but so far, it doesn't seem like anything bad.
Robin: Hmmm.
Red Robin: What is it brat?
Robin: I feel like his face is very familiar.
Batman: Explain.
Robin: I need to confirm this with mother. But I am fairly certain that his ancestors have connections with the Al Ghul.
Red Robin: As in blood related?
Robin: No. But there is a book that mother finds about a man who has a very similar appearance to him. The book tells the tale of a kind immortal who spends his lives helping others while learning stuff from them.
Spoiler: A cult of assassins teach young children to be kind?
Robin: Shut it, Brown. I am not finished. The part of the story that interests me is the tale called The Beheader of Demon.
Spoiler: I take it back. That sounds like something a cult of assassins will teach young children.
Robin: The tale tells a story of the immortal meeting a demon who kills people just to find immortality. When the demon finds out that the immortal is well, immortal, he pursues the immortal, trying to kill him and forces the immortal to give away his immortality to him.
Red Robin: What happened next?
Robin: The Demon's head is severed and the Demon's subordinates run away bringing the Demon's body to the pool of revival.
Spoiler: So is this a true story?
Robin: Mother confirms it is a true story. I do not know whether he is a true immortal or not. However, I do know that his ancestors or maybe even him, is good enough to beat grandfather even if he has backup.
Red Hood: What about the other tales?
Robin: There is nothing of note. Some mention of the immortal's supernatural ability, like summoning the dead or the ability to move mountains and divert rivers.
Red Robin: That is not something to take note of?
Robin: No. Because in those stories, the only consistent thing about him is that he is kind. Never harm someone unless provoked.
Batman: Compile all the tales into a file. Red Robin, lists out all the possible powers of target.
Oracle: Oh wow. My date is now a target. How could this get better?
Red Hood: If he is really dangerous, I volunteer to stalk monitor them while they are on the date.
Oracle & Batman: No!
Red Hood: Tsk! Party pooper.
Batman: Red Robin and Spoiler, follow them. Priority is keeping Oracle safe.
Red Robin & Spoiler: *High five* Let's go.
Oracle: Ugghhh, you all better don't mess with my date. Or else I'll make sure you regret it.
Part 3
#danny phantom#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#batfam#dc x dp#Danny x Barbara#danny x barbara#Does it have an official name?#I would like to call it Death Watch#Eyes of the dead sounds tough too#Or Death Sight sounds better?
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Part 14: The End And The Beginning
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 15
Still a flicker of hope that you first gave to me that I wanna keep (please don't leave)
(In which an infrequently-updating writer finally didn't take a month to update)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Fluff and I guess a little bit of Hurt/Comfort
Words: 9.2K
TW: Swearing (and I believe that's it)
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 It's a little past 2 AM but y'all wanted a chapter at an ungodly hour so here it is. It's insane to think that there will only be one more chapter of this fic. In all honestly I did have ways to drag it out for a little longer but ultimately, this felt like the right path to take. I feel like some of this chapter is a little OOC (though my lovely friends have said maybe I'm just being paranoid) but whelp it was for the plot so! Like I said, ungodly hour chapters means barely any editing for now but I will go over and fix things later. In the meantime if y'all wanna point things out in terms of grammar and typos, please feel free. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see as this story comes to an end. Have a lovely rest of your day (night?) my loves <3
June 2033
Azzi thinks she might have every detail of her rather uninteresting bedroom ceiling memorized by now. After all -for almost 3 weeks now- instead of sleeping, all she’s done is stared up at it, her mind wandering off to a thousand places, all plagued with the same face. Azzi hadn’t thought it was possible for her heart to ache as much as it had the morning after the proposal, when the regret had hit and she’d rushed into Paige’s room, only to be told by KK that the older girl was gone. The days following had been torture, like enduring a heart attack over and over again, the pain crescendoing until she’d gone numb from it.
But last time there had been no false notions, no open-ended goodbyes, just a clean break and somehow that had been easier to live with. These last few days -filled with the unbearable waiting of maybe today she’ll come back to me- have been worse. Perhaps it’s because of the innate hope flickering like a candle within her. And even though the flame of it seems to get smaller and dimmer every time she sees Paige and the older woman still can’t quite make the promise to stay, Azzi knows that until that hope of hers is either completely shattered or fulfilled, there is no moving on from this hurt.
Sighing to herself, Azzi grabs for her phone. The screen lights up to countless notifications and she bites her lip when she notices the one from Clémence. Dinner had been uncannily awkward last night in a way that it had never been before when the French woman had been a much more frequent presence in her and her daughter’s life. But in between Azzi being completely lost in thoughts of her and Paige’s conversation in the locker room and Stephie somehow managing to find a way to relate every little detail back to Miss Buecks and her face-falling a little every time she did, well it was suffice to say even Clémence’s attempts as making the dinner more cheerful hadn’t been enough to make the evening less of a disaster. Azzi had almost let out a sigh of relief when she’d finally dropped the other woman off at the hotel, trying to not to wince when Clémence had leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. But cleary she hadn’t been inconspicuous enough -and neither had Stephie, who’s voice had been rather devoid of her normal Clémence related cheer when she’d wished the Frenchwoman a goodnight- and the guilt from the way the other woman’s smile had faltered, still lingers in Azzi’s stomach.
Chewing at her bottom lip, she swipes the text open. It’s a simple “it was good to see you two again.” and perhaps it doesn’t mean much -maybe Azzi’s doing that overthinking thing again- but there’s something about the formality of it, about the full stop at the end of the sentence feels rather definite. Azzi almost feels like she should apologize for something, perhaps for being so aloof last night or maybe even more. She knows that Clémence had wanted something else from her, had patiently waited for her to turn their relationship into something beyond just casual, something Azzi had never been ready to give to her. But it almost feels too late for any of that and so all she says is “it was good to see you too.” and she hopes that Clémence knows that despite everything, she means it.
Throwing her phone back on the dresser and now feeling perhaps even worse than she had a couple minutes ago, Azzi pulls her blanket above her head, almost pleading with her brain to just shut off. She’s about to give into the impulsive urge to scream into her pillows, when instead her door creaks open and she immediately throws the comforter off of herself, reaching over to turn on her bedside lamp as she sits up straight on her bed.
Stephie stands in the doorway, a fluffy teddy bear cuddled to her chest as she stares up at Azzi with big doey eyes and the older woman’s heart constricts when she sees the hint of sadness sitting heavily within them. Her little girl had been quiet all day -really since dinner last night. With today being a rare off day, the two of them had spent most of it lounging on the couch watching movies. But Azzi could tell something was off about Stephie. Her daughter, normally ever the commentator, had been dead silent, cuddling into her mother’s side and barely even chuckling at the comedy scenes. Truthfully, Stephie hadn’t been quite the same ever since they’d left Paige’s that morning -and with the amount of nights she’d snuck into Azzi’s room since, her mother had almost been expecting it tonight- but it seemed like something else had shifted last night.
“C’mere baby girl,” Azzi says softly as she holds her arms open and Stephie dutifully climbs into them, burrowing her head into her mother’s chest, “what’s up?”
“Can’t sleep,” comes the muffled response from her daughter as Azzi gently rubs the little girl’s back, “can I sleep here with you?”
Azzi smiles, pressing a gentle kiss against Stephie’s hair, “of course you can sweetheart,” she whispers, before falling back into her pillows with her daughter still securely wrapped in her arms.
She continues to brush her hands through Stephie’s hair, listening to the sound of her little girl breathing as she hums a lullaby.
“Mama,” Stephie says tentatively, after a while.
“Yeah Stephie-bean?”
“Yes-er-day when we were at dinner-,” the little girl swallows nervously and Azzi’s squeezes her shoulders, hoping it conveys that she’s listening, ready to hear whatever it is that’s been bothering the little girl, “yes-er-day at one of the other tables, I saw- I saw a woman with gold hair and she- she had it in a bun like- like the one Miss Buecks usually has.”
Azzi’s breath hitches, “go on sweetheart.”
“And she- she was-,” Stephie drops her voice down to a whisper, “she was kissing someone who looked a lot like you Mama.”
“Oh,” Azzi manages to get out as she feels her lungs compress.
“And there was a little girl too and they both gave her lots of kisses too,” Stephie’s voice is small as she says the fact and Azzi has to bite her lips hard to keep in the sob that’s threatening to escape her lips. And she remembers the exact people Stephie’s talking about, remembers the way her heart panged as she’d seen the way three of them -the two women and their little girl- were practically giddy around each other. They’d looked almost like an exact replica of Paige, Azzi and Stephie, not that long ago. Azzi had, had to tear her eyes away from the scene, not wanting to let the tears that were dangerously close to her waterline slip down her cheeks. She hadn’t looked in their direction again. But Azzi hadn’t even imagined that maybe Stephie would’ve noticed that too, that her daughter would’ve felt the sting of the happy picture the same way she had.
“Oh sweetheart-”
“My friend Anya has a Mama and a Mommy,” Stephie rushes out before Azzi can console her any further, “and my other friend Lena didn’t understand how that was poss-ble cause she has a Mommy and a Daddy like most of my other friends but Anya said it’s poss-ble and that her Mama and Mommy love each other just like Lena’s Mommy and Daddy love each other.”
“Anya’s right,” Azzi says softly, smiling at how simple children make everything sound even though she’s not quite sure where Stephie’s getting at with this story, “I’m sure her Mama and Mommy love each other a lot.”
“Anya says they kiss on the lips- just like- just like the women at the restaurant and like Nana and Pops or like Uncle José and Aunty Tully,” Stephie scrunches her nose as she finally untucks herself from Azzi’s chest, “Anya says that’s what people in love do but I think it’s kinda gross cause kissing on the lips looks kinda yucky.”
Azzi laughs, booping the little girl’s nose, “it does look a little funny.”
“But Anya says her Mommy and Mama do other things too. Like her Mama takes care of her Mommy when she’s sick and when her Mama cries over a movie, her Mommy laughs but then gives her Mama a big hug. And Anya says that sometimes when Anya’s Mama isn’t looking, Anya sees her Mommy looking at her Mama with a big smile,” Stephie stretches out her arms for emphasis as she climbs off of Azzi’s lap to sit on the bed next to her.
“That sounds sweet,” Azzi says wistfully, still a little confused why she’s being told everything about Anya’s two mothers.
There’s a moment of silence before Stephie drags in a deep breath as she stares intently at her mother, “I never seen you and Miss Buecks kiss, Mama.”
Her words loom in the air as Azzi’s mouth falls open, everything suddenly beginning to click, “Steph-”
“But when Miss Buecks was sick, I saw you make her soup and make her eat her med-cines even though Miss Buecks said they tasted yucky. And when you cry over Mr. Olaf melting in Frozen, Miss Buecks always says ‘Az you’re so silly, you’ve seen this so many times. How can you still cry at it?’”Stephie recites, doing an almost perfect impression that has Azzi’s letting out something in between a sob and a laugh.
“But then she gives you a big hug anyways. And Mama,” the little girl continues, “when you’re not looking, I see Miss Buecks looking at you with this big, big, big, smile all the time.”
“Stephie,” Azzi chokes out, trying to hold herself together.
Her daughter looks at her with something almost like wonder, “you and Miss Buecks- you were just- you were just like Anya’s Mama and Mommy?”
“Yeah,” Azzi whispers, as she grasps the little girl’s hands in her own, bracing herself for whatever Stephie might say next, “yeah I guess we were.”
But Stephie doesn’t say anything for a while, sitting all quiet and contemplative for a moment until she slowly climbs back into her mother’s arms, resting her head right against Azzi’s chest.
“Mama,” her voice is small when she finally does speak, “I really miss Miss Buecks.”
Azzi feels her heart constrict, finally losing the battle against her tears as they drip down her cheeks, and she tightens her grip on her daughter, “I know baby. I really miss her too.”
***
April 2025
“What are you doing?” panic filters into Azzi’s tone as she watches Paige slowly get down on one knee, her heart pulsating as she slowly begins to understand why her girlfriend had set this whole thing up. Really she should’ve known as soon as KK and Ice had excitedly bound into her room, mischievous knowing smirks on their faces as they’d made her change into something nice before practically dragging her onto the roof. She should’ve known when she’d seen the candles and the pink roses and Paige just a little too dressed up in the midst of it all, that this was more than just one of the older girl’s lavishly planned date nights.
Paige smiles up at her, either not hearing the distress in the brunette’s voice or perhaps not quite understanding the gravity of it. She reaches for Azzi’s hands, soft fingers entwining with the younger girl’s like their holding onto a lifeline. An unfamiliar sensation builds in Azzi’s stomach, one she doesn’t think she’s ever felt in Paige’s presence before.
“Paige,” she whispers helplessly.
“I’ve got you baby,” Paige squeezes her hands gently, mistaking whatever it is that Azzi’s feeling, for simple nerves.
But it’s not that. Azzi knows this unsettling feeling that’s tornadoing around her isn’t just nerves or butterflies or whatever else it is that one normally feels before a proposal. It’s something much, much worse. Something almost like dread. And Azzi can feel all those suppressed emotions that have been building for the last couple of weeks-the whispers of thoughts that she’d brushed away as nothing serious- suddenly rushing through her body and settling like a large, immovable lump at the back of her throat.
She remembers the first time she’d felt it, that unfamiliar twist in her stomach. It had been at a press conference after some easily won Big East game with UConn’s Big Three sitting diligently at the media-table. And it had suddenly occurred to Azzi, just as they’d finished their media availability, that she’d been asked exactly one question about her own performance -a respectable 24/4/3 statline- from the pool of reporters. Every other question of the four that had been directed her way, had been about Paige. She’d come to a stop outside the press room, letting herself sit with the thought for a second until her girlfriend -with her bright blue eyes and just-for-Azzi smile- had come bounding up to her. And suddenly, as it always seemed to be when it came to Paige, Azzi couldn’t think about anything else anymore. Not when the blonde was lacing their fingers together and putting her lips dangerously close to her ears, whispering all the sinful things they could get up to that night.
But then it happened again two games later. One question about her own performance followed by a cycle of questions about Paige during a presser where the blonde wasn’t even in attendance. This time Azzi had thought about it a little longer but then she’d chided herself for it, chalking it up to her brain doing that overthinking thing again. It was natural to be asked about teammates, especially superstar, generational, teammates who were likely to go #1 in the upcoming WNBA draft.
And then it happened again.
And again.
And again.
Until it was the Elite Eight and Azzi found herself, after a 28/5/4 statline and two clutch free throws to win it all, still somehow fielding more questions about Paige -and how the blonde had impacted Azzi’s game and recovery and their relationship as best friends- than about her own performance.
That’s when she’d finally begun to understand what that twist in her stomach had been. She’d felt sick at the idea that it could be envy -how could she ever be jealous of her Paige’s success- but she’d understood then, almost gawking at the reporter who’d had the audacity to ask her, her fourth Paige-related question that night, that it wasn’t that. Maybe it would’ve been easier if it was.
It was fear.
The fear that her own identity in the basketball world was slowly withering away under the weight of her relationship.
“Hey,” Paige’s voice feels like it’s coming from a distance even though she’s right in front of Azzi and the brunette swallows hard as she tries to pry herself away from her thoughts to focus on her girlfriend.
“Paige,” she whispers back helplessly, as her eyes begin to water.
Every time Azzi had imagined Paige proposing -the first time had been when she was 15 and she’d woken up from the dream, almost shaking but still filled with the serene calmness that came from knowing something was inevitable- she had always in fact pictured tears in her own eyes.
But not like this.
Because these little droplets cascading down her cheeks that Paige’s fingers diligently reach up to wipe away aren’t the tears of a girl whose dreams to marry her best friend -the love of her life- are coming true. They’re the tears of a girl who’s bracing herself for an inevitable fight when she puts her career before a relationship, when her head wins this fight against her heart.
Blissfully unaware, Paige continues on, “I’ve um- I’ve thought of this a million times. Actually maybe a billion or a trillion or quadrillion. Point is I’ve been thinking about it pretty much ever since I met you.”
Stop, Azzi thinks but all that comes out is a whimper.
“So you’d think, considering I’ve thought about it that many times, I’d have an actual speech prepared or something. And I did you know. I uh- I wrote one and then I hated it so I deleted it all and then I wrote another and then I deleted that one too,” Paige laughs and the sound of it, that had once felt like a warm blanket shrouding all of Azzi’s senses, now feels a lot like a wintry chill settling around her body.
“And what I realized,” there’s moisture pooling in the blonde’s own eyes now, “is that I don’t need a speech. I don’t need hundreds of words. I just need three. I love you,” Paige presses a kiss against Azzi’s knuckles and the other girl shudders, “I love you so fucking much Azzi Fudd. And I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life.”
She lets go of the brunette’s hands to retrieve a black velvet box from her pockets and Azzi bites her lip so hard, the metallic taste of blood overwhelms her taste buds.
“Azzi Jazlyn Fudd,” Paige says softly, flicking open the box to reveal a heart-cut diamond ring, “will you marry me?”
“No,” it comes out so soft, almost blending with the wind, that for a second even Azzi doubts she’d said it.
“”What?”
Azzi clears her throat, “no.”
“No?” Paige repeats, blinking up at her with a mixture of confusion and anticipatory dread.
“No,” Azzi says again, her voice much stronger now as she takes a step back, the tears freely falling from her cheeks.
“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Paige, still on one knee, stumbles a little as she tries to formulate the right words, “you- you don’- no?,” her eyebrows furrow in confusion, “you don’t want to marry me?”
I do, Azzi wants to scream.
“I can’t,” she says.
Paige stares up at her, something akin to disbelief etched across her beautiful features, “what does that even fucking mean you can’t?”
“I just-” Azzi struggles against the jumble of thoughts in head as she tries to piece together a coherent sentence, “I can’t.”
“Bullshit,” Paige snarls.
“Paige-”
“Do not Paige me,” the older girl seethes, her expression darkening, “you better fucking explain yourself.”
“I- I will,” Azzi stutters, trying to make herself small as she wraps her arms around herself, “can you- just,” she eyes Paige, who’s still kneeling one one knee, “can you please- please just stand up.”
Paige flinches, like Azzi has asked her to shoot an arrow into her own soul. And maybe she had. But she does as asked. The blonde’s movements are reluctant, almost like it pains her to stand up and when she does, the distance she puts between her and Azzi can’t be more than a few meters, but it feels like it stretches the length of an ocean.
“Explain,” Paige says scathingly.
“I just-” Azzi takes in a deep breath, barely able to meet her girlfriend’s eyes as she forces out the next words, “I don’t want to be known as just your wife.”
Paige lets out an expected noise of protest, “you wouldn’t-”
“You don’t know that,” Azzi cuts her off with a pointed look, “because right now- right now sometimes it feels like all I am is just Paige Bueckers’ best friend. It doesn't matter how many points I score or how many defensive moves I make on the court or whatever else I do on the court, somehow it all leads back to you. And it makes me feel-,” she chokes on the next words, the acidity of them leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, “I feel invisible.”
“Azzi-”
The brunette holds up a hand, needing to finish what she’s saying before she fully succumbs to her emotions, “sometimes- sometimes my entire career at UConn so far feels like- like it’s just an extension of yours. Paige you- you get to be Paige. Just Paige. The superstar. You get to go to entire pressers not having to answer a single question about me or our friendship. You get to have entire articles written about you that have just a throwaway line about me and not have half of it be dedicated to how I’m the driving force behind your success. And that’s how it should be because- because as much as we rely on each other, your success is still yours. But sometimes it feels like mine isn’t mine.”
“I’m sor-”
“No!” Azzi cuts Paige off loudly when the older girl tries to apologize, guilt flashing in her eyes, “it’s not your fault Paige. You- you’re my biggest cheerleader. You always have been. But I just- I need to have my own identity. And that’s already been so hard being known as just your best friend. It’s only going to get worse if I-” she stops, unable to say the rest but even unspoken, it lingers in the air.
If I become your fiancé.
“I need next year to be different,” Azzi says instead, “I need it to be my year. Just mine. Just for once, I just want to be known as Azzi.”
“It will be,” there’s a newfound conviction replacing the previous anger in the blonde’s voice as she takes a deliberate step towards Azzi. Bolstered when the other girl doesn’t instinctively move back, she takes another one and then another and another, until the seemingly never-ending distance between them disappears.
“I understand where you’re coming from,” Paige says softly as she gently holds one of Azzi’s hands between her own, “and I hate- I hate that you feel this way. But it’ll be different next year when we’re not on the same team anymore right? Out of sight out of mind type shit? They won’t- they won’t ask you about me or make everything you do about me anymore-”
“You don’t know that-”
The older girl continues like she didn’t hear the interruption, “I just- I just don’t understand why you can be known as my girlfriend but not my-” she swallows, “but not my wife? Because Az- when we come out-,” the girl in questions flinches and Paige pauses, her expression falters at the movement.
A deadly silence clouds the air and it’s April in Connecticut and the spring breeze is just the right temperature. But as Paige slowly lets go of her hands, realization dawning on her face, Azzi thinks she’s never felt colder in her life.
“You- you don’t-” the blonde looks at her almost accusingly as she takes a step back, “you don’t want to come out?”
“Paige-”
“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”
Azzi casts her eyes downwards, digging her fingers as deeply into her palms as possible, “no, no I don’t.”
“I see,” Paige says slowly, her tone dangerously low, “and how long have you felt this way Az?”
“I-I-” the brunette stutters nervously, “I made- I made the decision after the Elite Eight.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Paige says calmly.
“I don’t- I don’t understand-”
“How long Azzi?” the blonde sneers, “how long have you had all the fucking doubts about your identity and our relationship? How long have you been questioning everything about us? How long have you bee going through this whole fucking decision-making process about our future?”
“That’s not-”
“Oh no,” Paige interrupts harshly, “that’s exactly it. That’s exactly what you were doing. So tell me. How. Long?”
Azzi gulps nervously, “since the game at home versus Nova.”
Paige blinks at her, “three months? Three fucking months Azzi. You’ve been feeling this way for three months and you didn’t once think that maybe you should tell me? That maybe we should talk about it?”
“I didn’t know,” Azzi says helplessly, “I didn’t even understand it myself Paige. I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t even know there was something to discuss.”
“But clearly you did figure it out, Azzi. Because I know you and I know you didn’t make this decision without figuring your emotions out, so why not come to me then? Why not tell me as soon as possible. God fucking hell Azzi- when even were you gonna tell me?” Paige yells, all pretence of calm gone from her body, “if I- if tonight hadn’t happened, when would you have even told me?”
Azzi doesn’t say anything and Paige shakes her head, starting to pace around the rooftop.
“We had a plan Azzi. We’ve had a plan for four years. As soon as one or both of us was out of UConn, that was it. No more hiding. No more secrets. Just you and and me and we weren’t gonna care who the fuck knew about it,” the blonde pinches the bridge of her nose, “and you’re telling me that for three month- three fucking months- you’ve been questioning that whole fucking plan while I remained oblivious as fuck? Azzi all I’ve done these past few months is tell you how fucking excited I was about being able to call you my girl in front ov everyone. How excited I was to hold you in public and for us to just be us without giving a fuck who could see. And you just,” Paige’s voice breaks, “you let me. You let me do all of that- feel all of that. You let me be hopeful for a future that you weren’t even sure you could see for us.”
Azzi looks away, that rock of guilt settled in her stomach starting to get heavier and heavier with each word that leaves Paige’s mouth, “I’m just asking for a little bit more time Paige.”
“And what happens if that time doesn’t go the way you want it to Az?” Paige asks sadly, “what if we survive the next year but you decide that you can’t be attached to me to start your W career?”
“That won’t happen-”
“You don’t know that,” a sardonic smile appears on the blonde’s face, “I can’t keep hiding forever Azzi. All I’ve done is love you in secret. I can’t- I don’t- I won’t do that forever.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Azzi bursts out, her defensiveness suddenly translating into a burst of anger, “I am asking you for a little bit of time. Not even a whole year anymore. Just a little bit of time for me to establish my own identity and honestly Paige if you can’t even give me that- if you can’t understand why I need this time- then maybe-” she stops herself, eyes widening at the words -word she’d never even expected herself to think of - that are now sitting, like burning embers, on the tip of her tongue.
“Then maybe what?” Paige asks slowly, but there’s an almost resigned tinge to her tone that suggests she already knows.
“No,” Azzi shakes her head, turning away from the older girl’s piercing gaze. She looks down at the ground, still covered in rose petals. The wax of the glittering candles littered between them has melted onto them, causing their pink hue to turn into a darker shade of red. And it’s like there’s blood scattered on the remnants of Paige’s perfect proposal.
“Say it Azzi-”
“No-”
“Say it.”
“I don’t want to,” Azzi covers her ears and she wishes this were a nightmare, wishes she could open her eyes and find herself waking up in Paige’s arms. Warm and soft and loved.
“Godfuckingdammit Azzi,” Paige yells, “just say it. If I can’t understand why you need time then maybe we should what?” she repeats, waiting for the brunette to finish her own sentence.
Azzi whimpers, continuing to shake her head, “Paige please.”
“Just. Fucking. Say. It.”
The younger girl swallows, “then maybe we should end it.”
Another beat of silence.
“Maybe we should,” Paige’s voice is gravelly and Azzi doesn’t dare turn around, not ready to see the heartbroken expression -or worse, perhaps the nonchalant one- on the older girl’s face, “if after all we’ve been through, if it’s so easy for you to think those words. Then maybe we should- maybe we should end it.”
And Azzi thinks for the rest of her life she will wonder what she should have done next. If she should’ve said something or if -when she hears those retreating footsteps- if she should’ve run after her. She thinks, for the rest of her life, she will look back on this moment and dissect every single second of it, that she will wish for the time machine to go back and stop herself from doing and saying so many of the things she had on the rooftop that night.
But Paige walks away.
And Azzi doesn’t do anything to stop her.
It isn’t until the morning after -when her head does finally catch up to her heart and all she can feel is that unfamiliar sting of regret- and she races into the apartment downstairs and Ice’s expression is filled with sadness and KK’s glare is filled with accusation, that she finds out just how far Paige had gone away from her and Azzi realizes, she’s just a little too late.
***
June 2033
There’s a redhead and a brunette, holding hands and chatting quietly as they wait outside the school. The two women are clearly entrenched in their own world -sharing those warm gazes and bright smiles that Azzi’s just a little too familiar with- blissfully unaware that they are currently being stared at. Actually, perhaps glared at is a more accurate statement because there’s a clear tinge of envy running down Azzi’s spine as her eyes remain laser-focused on the scene in front of her. She hadn’t meant to be doing this of course -nobody really plans to come to pick up their daughter from school and somehow end up stink-eying said daughter’s friends parents for being too in love. But as fate would have it, somehow from where she’s parked, Azzi has a perfect view of Anya, infamous Mommy and Mama.
They’re sickeningly cute.
And Azzi fucking hates them.
It’s unfair of her to feel this way; she knows that. But watching them lead the life she’d always imagined for herself, is more difficult now than it ever has been when Azzi had seen them before in passing. Back then, it was just a dull ache of something she craved but knew she’d turned away herself. But now- now she’s had a taste of that life; had gotten to live it out -even if just for a second- with the girl she’d always dreamed of living it with. Until one night and a series of revelations had snatched it all away, and now Azzi’s left with nothing but the bitter feeling of waiting to see if she’ll get that back forever or if it had really only ever been meant to be a fleeting moment in her life.
A sigh of longing escapes her as she watches Anya go rushing into her mothers’ arms, the two of them catching her in perfect sync. She has the resentful urge to scoff at the scene. It’s all so goddamn dramatic for three people who see each other every day. Except Azzi’s mind is filled with memories that are almost exact replicas of the scene in front of her; just with different faces.
“Hi Mama,” it isn’t until the backdoor opens and Stephie’s voice fills the car that Azzi finally tears her eyes away from Anya’s family.
“Hey baby,” she choruses back, turning around in her seat to make sure her daughter is buckling herself in correctly, “how was your day?”
“It was okay,” Stephie shrugs and Azzi feels her heart plummet at how nonchalant the little girl sounds. She misses the sound of her daughter ranting about just how booooring school is, and thinks she wouldn’t even try to reprimand her if Stephie deemed school useless like she used to. Azzi just wants her ball of sunshine, talks-a-mile-per-minute child back because this meek, quiet little girl in the back feels like a shell of who Stephie used to be.
“You excited for Mama’s game tonight?” Azzi presses as she starts to back out of the parking lot, almost relieved when it seems to cause Stephie to sit up a little straighter.
“You’re- you’re playing the Liberty right?” the little girl asks quietly, “that’s- that’s where Miss Buecks wanna go? New York?”
Azzi freezes at the question, trying to keep her hands steady on the wheel as she hums in agreement.
“They’re a good team right? Lots of champ-ships and stuff?” Stephie continues.
“Yeah,” Azzi clears her throat, “it’s uh- it’s definitely gonna be a good game.”
“Anya’s Grammy and Grandpa live in New York. Not the city-city but close to it,” Stephie says after a moment, “Anya says New York’s really nice. She’s been there lots and lots of times to see her Grammy and Grandpa forChristmas. And she- she says when she went, it snowed lots and lots.”
Despite herself Azzi smiles as her mind drifts to memories of cold Northeast winters. For the most part, they had been filled with dreary chills and darky rainy days. But then amidst it all, there had been a couple rare days of snow and when she’d been at UConn, her teammates had taken full advantage. And just like most of her memories of those years, Paige is front and center of these ones too. The blonde had never been nearly as enamored with the snow as Azzi was, and she definitely wasn’t enamored by it at seven in the morning when the brunette would wake her up squealing that it had in fact snowed and the world around them was white. Despite her grumbling, Paige had still let Azzi bundle the both of them up in winter clothes and drag her outside. And her faux irritated expression hds slowly morphed into one of admiration as she’d flicked the snow off the younger girl’s eyelashes, pulling her closer by her scarf because Azzi I’m so cold, you have to kiss me to keep me warm baby.
“We don’t get snow here,” Stephie says thoughtfully, unaware of the path down memory lane her mother had just taken.
“No, no we don’t,” Azzi says, almost wistfully.
“It would- it would be nice to live somewhere with lots of snow,” Stephie ponders out loud and her mother’s eyes widen as she starts to understand where this is going, “like- like in New York.”
“We could- we could have snowball fight and make snowmen like Mr. Olaf and snow angels and everything else you do in snow,” the little girl’s voice gets increasingly more and more high-pitched in excitement, “it would be so fun Mama.”
“Steph-”
“And Anya said that- that- that- she’d even visit me like she visits her Grammy and Grandpa. She promised Mama, she promised she’d come see me if I lived in New York-”
“Honey no,” Azzi cuts her daughter off heartbrokenly, “we are not going to live in New York.
“But Mama, Miss Buecks-”
“Stephie stop-”
“No Mama listen,” Stephie protests indignantly, “Mama what if- what if Miss Buecks really needs to be in New York. What if it’s impo-tant. And that’s- that’s why she can’t stay here. With us. Not cause she doesn’t want to but cause she can’t. But Mama just because Miss Buecks can’t say doesn’t mean we can’t go Mama.”
“Sweetheart-”
“And you- you just said the Liberty is a good team and you’re such a good player Mama. I think you’d be good on their team too. And I- I really, really like the Valk-ries and I would really miss Aunty J and Aunty Tessie and Aunty Joy but if you- if you and Miss Buecks played for the Liberty- I know I’d like them too. And I’m sure Nana and Pops and Uncle Jon and Uncle Jose and Aunty Tully would come visit us lots and lots and I wouldn’t even miss them lots cause they’d visit so much. I just know it. It could work Mama- I know it could.”
“Stephanie,” Azzi's voice is louder than she’d meant it to be as she pulls onto their street, “sweetheart, we are not moving to New York.”
“But Mama-” the little girl whines.
“No Stephie. That’s just-” Azzi swallows the sob stuck in her throat, “that’s now how the world works.”
“But what if I want it to work that way?” Stephie asks softly with all the innocence of a five-year old as she meets her mother’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Oh baby,” Azzi’s so caught up in her daughter’s earnest wishful thinking that she doesn’t even notice there’s another oh-so-familiar car parked in her driveway until she almost crashes into it.
“That’s Miss Buecks car,” Stephie whispers softly, craning her neck to get a better view. Her eyes widen in tandem with her mother’s as they both catch sight of the same thing at the same time.
It’s Paige.
Paige, whose eyes are sunken in and red-rimmed. Paige, whose hair is tossed back into a messy bun -looking like it’s been in that same one for days- with little loose strands falling out of it. Paige, whose entire body is hunched over as she sits on their front porch, holding a grey hoodie close to her chest. Paige, whose hands are fidgeting with themselves because she can never sit still, especially when she’s nervous. Paige, who looks up just as Azzi parks her car -whose staring at the both of them like they’re still her everything. Paige, who despite it all, still looks like the most beautiful woman in the world.
Paige, who’s here.
It’s Stephie who recovers from the shock of seeing Paige first, the click of her seatbelt being unclasped pulling Azzi out of her own trance. The little girl pushes her door open, getting out of her car seat with quickness as she stumbles out of the car.
“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out immediately but Stephie isn't listening, already rushing up the pathway as Paige -her expression hopeful- stands up at the sight of the child running towards.
It isn’t until Stephie hesitates, coming to a halt just a couple of meters away from Paige, that Azzi draws in a deep breath and gets out of the car herself. Unlike her daughter, her steps are much slower, her movement hesitant and guarded. She knows this is it; knows that this is when all that waiting she’s done in the past few weeks will finally be over, that Paige is either here to fulfill a dream or to start a nightmare.
Azzi walks up the pathway until she’s right behind Stephie, one of her hands instinctively reaching out to hold her daughter’s shoulder, conveying two messages. One to Stephie, a promise that no matter what happens now, she’ll still always have Azzi. The other to Paige is an unspoken message from a protective mother, silently begging her that if she is here to break their hearts, to break Stephie’s gently.
“Hi,” Paige’s voice is croaky when she speaks, her eyes flickering nervously between the mother and daughter in front of her.
Azzi clears her throat, willing herself to reply, “hey,” she pauses, continuing only when the older woman keeps her own mouth shut, shuffling her feet nervously, “do you- do you want to come in?”
“Yes,” Paige says, her cheeks reddening at how quickly the word leaves her mouth and that almost makes Azzi smile.
She nods at the older woman, her hand travelling from Stephie’s shoulder to instead hold her hand as they walk up the steps together. Azzi’s shoulder brushes against Paige’s as she moves past the blonde to open her door and electricity courses through her veins. From the way Paige gasps, the brunette is sure she must’ve felt it too. It crackles in the air as Azzi unlocks the door, her brain feeling foggy at the mere feeling of having Paige so close after so long.
The three of them walk quietly towards the living room, Stephie’s hands still clasped in Azzi’s and Paige following closely behind them. The little girl’s grip is tight and despite how young she is, Azzi knows just how perceptive Stephie is. She’s just as aware of this moment as the adults are, realizes it just as much as they do, that they’ve reached a crossroad and the path they take -a path determined by whatever Paige chooses- will shape their future together or apart.
“I um- I- well- the thing is- I-,” Paige breaks the silence first, stuttering over her words before letting out a soft sigh She closes her eyes for a second and when she opens them, there are little droplets of water on the edges of her eyelashes.
“I really missed you guys,” she confesses in a whisper, her voice breaking throughout.
There’s a second of silence as her words linger in the air and Azzi feels Stephie’s hand slip away from her own and the little girl almost stumbles over her own feet as she races towards Paige, the older woman’s arms immediately opening to catch her and as she kneels down to pull Stephie into her her chest. It’s like the blonde’s confession had broken a dam, and the water that came rushing through it, had washed away the last little bit of pretence of nonchalance that Stephie had been holding onto.
For the last few weeks, every time Azzi’s little girl had seen Paige, be it when she accompanied her mother to a practice or when she was on the sidelines at a game, Stephie had ignored the blonde, maintaining the same angry façade as the one she’d had the morning after that night. But Azzi had seen that resolve weaken over time; had seen Stephie’s eyes linger just a little bit longer on Miss Buecks with that familiar look of yearning. And Azzi had known that resolve was almost completely gone, in the car, when Stephie had all but begged her to consider moving to New York if that was the only way they were going to be able to keep Paige in their lives.
She feels her own set of tears prickling in her eyes as she takes in the scene in front of her. Stephie’s face is pressed into Paige’s neck, the blonde has one arm wrapped around the little girl’s waist and the other other gently brushing through her hair. Their grip on each other is tight with barely any space for air between them, tears freely streaming down both of their faces.
“I missed you too Miss Buecks,” Stephie sobs and Azzi notices the way Paige’s hold on her tightens at the familiar nickname, “missed you so much.”
“Me too Stephie-bean,” Paige affirms as she coaxes the little girl’s face out of her neck, cupping it in her hands, “I’m so sorry sweetheart. So, so, sorry. I missed you so, so, so, so much,” she says, punctuating each word with a kiss to Stephie’s face in between.
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie looks down nervously, her fingers playing with the collar of Paige’s t-shirt, “can me and Mama come to New York with you?”
“Stephie!” Azzi exclaims as Paige’s eyes widen.
“Wh-what?” the blonde asks softly as she searches the little girl’s face in confusion.
“I don’t want you to go,” Stephie says quietly, “but if you have to- then can we come with you?”
“Oh sweetheart,” there’s disbelief in Paige’s tone, something almost akin to awe as she tilts Stephie’s chin to make the little girl look back at her.
“My friend Anya says New York’s nice,” Stephie rambles, repeating what she’d been telling her mother in the car, “and-and-and she says there’s lots and lots of snow and I told Mama that I think it will be nice to live in lots and lots of snow. Mama hasn’t said yest,” the little girl briefly looks back at Azzi with a sheepish look on her face before turning back to Paige, “but I know- I know we could cov-ince her because Miss Buecks, Mama’s missed you so, so, so much too.”
“Has she?” Paige asks, her eyes flickering to Azzi who’s trying desperately to keep her face neutral as she keeps her own gaze firmly fixated on a picture of her daughter on top of the mantle.
“She has,” Stephie confirms, before using a finger against the older woman’s cheek to get her to return her attention back to her, “so can we come with you? Please.”
Paige slowly tucks a strand of hair behind the child’s ears as she shakes her head, “no.”
“N-no?” Stephie’s bottom lip trembles at the rejection, “why not? Why can’t we go to New York with you?”
“Because nobody’s going to New York, Stephie-bean,” Paige says firmly and Azzi’s eyes shoot towards the blonde, her lips parting slightly as she processes the meaning behind her words, her heart beginning to race with anticipation.
“Nobody?” Stephie repeats as a question, her little voice filled with hope.
Instead of answering, Paige grabs the grey hoodie she’d brought with her that had fallen to the ground. She gently un-scrunches it, holding out the sleeve of it for Stephie to look at. Azzi cranes her head curiously to get a better look of it, squinting her eyes when she notices something written in washed-out black ink.
“You probably don’t remember this because you were a lot littler when it happened,” there’s a teasing smile of Paige’s face as she uses the incorrect word, “but the first time you ever spoke to me properly, you told me, that your Mama says that one day, you’re gonna be an even better basketball player than she is.”
Stephie beams, “Mama says I’m gonna be the best in the world today.”
Paige chuckles, “I believe it and I believed it then too. That’s why,” she points down at the hoodie, her fingers brushing over the material so delicately, like it’s one of her most treasured possessions, “that’s why I had you sign my hoodie.”
“You asked for my auto-graph?” Stephie’s eyes glint and perhaps she doesn’t quite remember what Paige is talking about exactly, but Azzi can tell that it’s stirred up recollections of something.
“Yeah- yeah I did. And you said, ‘silly Miss Buecks, I’m not famous’ and I said, ‘but if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, you will be. Just like me and your Mama.’ And I meant it. You’re gonna be so- so great one day sweetheart. I know you are,” Paige says with conviction as her thumbs lightly caressing Stephie’s cheeks, “and I- I wanna be right here every step of the way, I wanna be right here to watch you grow up and become the great player -the great woman- that you’re destined to be.”
“You mean it?” Stephie asks, her eyes shining with a fresh new set of tears.
Paige nods, delicately wiping her thumbs under the little girl’s lower eyelid, “I do. I wanna be here, with you and- and your Mama,” she raises her head toward Azzi, mustering a watery smile, “I want to stay. Forever. If you’ll have me.”
Azzi lets out a staggered breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as her eyes remain locked with Paige’s. And suddenly, after eight years spent feeling unfulfilled -eight years spent with this constant sense of being incomplete-, hearing Paige finally say she wants to stay forever, feels a little bit like as if that missing part of Azzi has finally returned back to where it rightfully belongs.
A loud squeal echoes throughout the living room as Stephie leaps back into Paige’s arms, a large smile stretching the length of her whole face as she buries her face back into the crevice between the blonde’s shoulder and her neck.
“Yes, yes, yes,” the little girl chirps excitedly, “of course we’ll have you. Of course, of course, of course,” Stephie says in delight before she turns herself slightly in Paige’s grasp, arms still around the other woman’s neck as she looks imploringly at Azzi, “right Mama?”
Azzi doesn’t say anything, pursing her lips as she tears her gaze away from the two people in front of her.
“Mama?” Stephie presses.
“Give me a second Stephie-bean,” Paige whispers to the little girl, bumping her head against her temple.
From the corner of her eyes, Azzi watches as the blonde disentangles herself from Stephie, before slowly getting to her feet and walking towards the younger woman.
“Az-”
“It’s been almost three weeks-”
“It’s been two weeks, six days, five hours and around fourteen minutes,” Paige shrugs, a hint of a smile playing on her face, “give or take a few minutes.
Azzi continues to look away from her, trying to keep her face devoid of emotion, “still took you a really long time to decide you were gonna stay.”
“Well I’m an idiot,” Paige says matter-of-factly and Stephie snickers behind her, “you know me Az. Sometimes these things- they take me a little while to understand.”
“I told you we wouldn’t wait forever,” Azzi says softly.
“I didn’t make you wait forever,” Paige reaches out to gently grab her chin between her thumb and index, turning the brunette’s face towards her, “just needed a little bit of time.”
“You didn’t give me time,” Azzi accuses and the blonde flinches.
“I know. I- I should’ve. Should’ve don’t a lot of things differently when it comes to us but I didn’t and I- I can’t change that but Azzi, I promise, I promise I’ll do everything right this time,” keeping one hand cupped around Azzi’s cheek, Paige uses the other to guide one of the brunette’s hands to rest against her chest, “I swear.”
Azzi swallows, feeling the quick rhythm of Paige’s heartbeat under her fingertips, “how do I know you won’t run away again?”
“Because I trust you,” the blonde whispers, “I trust you to stay and I trust you not to break my heart again. And that- that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared anymore- cause I am. Not a lot but definitely still a little bit. But someone once told me that, trusting is really scary but that maybe- maybe it would be a lot less scary, if we did together.”
“They sound like a really smart person,” Azzi bites her lip, “you should probably listen to them more often.”
Paige chuckles, “well if uh- if they give me the chance, I think I’d listen to them for the rest of my life.”
Azzi shudders and she doesn’t know if it’s from the earnestness of the words spoken or the strength of the emotions in the blonde’s gaze that’s still completely transfixed on her.
“What about New York?” she asks finally.
“I called the whole thing off,” Paige states nonchalantly, “I had Talia call Jonathan Kolb last night and I explained everything to Ohemaa this morning. Everyone’s on the same page. There is no deal anymore.”
“You-” Azzi gapes at the girl in front of her, “you- you already called the whole thing off?”
“I did,” Paige confirms, not a hint of regret in her voice, “I don’t need an escape plan.”
“You called it off before even talking to me?” Azzi asks, knitting her eyebrows together, “you didn’t even know how this was gonna go.”
“I already told you. I trust you,” Paige says simply, “I believe in us Az and I really hope you still believe in us too.”
The words are barely out of Paige’s mouth before Azzi’s crashing into her, the weight of her body sending the blonde staggering back a few steps before her hands steadily secure themselves around the younger woman’s waist. A slightly surprised gasp escapes Paige until the sound of it is stolen by Azzi pressing her lips against the older woman’s. Despite her initial surprise, Paige kisses Azzi back with equal fervor, both of them pouring the myriad of suppressed emotions between them the last few weeks into it. And it feels like a cliché, like coming home.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Paige breaks away first, eyes widening as she slowly turns around to look at Stephie who’s practically vibrating with happiness as she watches the two of them, “Stephie-”
“She already knows,” Azzi says with a slight grin, shaking her head fondly at just how joyful her little girl looks.
“You told her?” Paige looks between the mother and daughter.
Stephie smirks triumphantly, “I figured it out myself Miss Buecks.”
“Of course you did smarty pants,” Paige smiles at the little girl but Azzi knows her well enough -is still so in tune with every little bit of Paige despite the time apart- to see the small hint of disappointment behind it.
“I would’ve told her myself if she hadn’t,” Azzi says quietly and Paige turns back around to face her.
“What?”
“I love you,” Azzi says and she swears no three words have ever sounded as right on her lips, as those three do, “I love you,” she repeats again and she can feel Paige’s hands shaking as they instinctively tighten their grip on her waist, “I love you so much Paige Madison Bueckers and I want everybody to know it. Stephie, our families, our friends, our teammates, the whole world. I love you and I never wanna hide that. I want everybody to know that you’re mine and I’m yours. Forever.”
A strangled sob escapes Paige’s mouth as she presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “I love you too. I love you, so, so, so much. I’ve loved you since the beginning and I’m gonna love you till the very end. Forever.”
Their lips meet in a searing kiss and it’s unclear if they’re both crying more or giggling more, as they hold each other as tightly as possible. And this isn’t their first kiss, far from it- far closer to being their millionth or so- but still it feels like a fresh new start, a brand new love story but with that same old special, all-consuming, forevermore love that has always connected them to each other. The one that had never gone away, no matter how long they’d been apart.
“Ahem, ahem,” an exaggerated cough breaks them apart and the two of them turn their heads at the same time to see Stephie looking dramatically at them, her hands on her hips.
“So, Mama loves Miss Buecks and Miss Buecks loves Mama. What about Stephie?” she pouts, exaggeratedly stomping her foot.
Paige and Azzi both laugh, removing themselves from each other just enough to crouch down and open their arms out for Stephie, beckoning for her to join their embrace. The little girl’s attempt at a sour expression is immediately replaced by a cheerful grin as she runs into their arms, tiny hands somehow managing to wrap around both of their necks.
“You know we love you the most Stephie,” Paige whispers into the little girl’s hair, who lets out a content sigh as she burrows herself further into the two women’s arms.
Azzi hums in agreement, closing her eyes as she leans her head against her daughter’s, feeling Paige’s fingers intertwine with her behind Stephie’s back. And then it’s quiet for a while, nothing but the sound of the three of them breathing and their hearts beating together in sync. Azzi feels at peace, her mind completely calm, no longer overthinking anything.
Because now she finally has everything.
Paige, Stephie, and the promise of a world the three of them can build together, it’s everything.
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Player || Lee Myung-gi
Series : Chapter 1 : Cards and Debt, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4
Description :
Driven by love and desperation, you risk everything to participate in a mysterious game with a life-changing prize. But the opulent setting masks a deadly reality.
As the games escalate in brutality, you must outsmart your cunning opponents, confront your deepest fears, and make impossible choices to stay alive.
Will your love for your boyfriend be enough to overcome the unimaginable horrors that await?
Lee Myung-gi x Fem!Reader

You slowly rose from your bed, the sun still hiding behind the fog that accumulated from the coldness. Suddenly, you hunched over to the side of your bed, and puked out everything you ate from the night before. You groaned, your head feeling heavy from all the tireless work and studying you had done the day before.
Grabbing your phone from your bed side desk, you checked the time. 6:34 AM, it read. You groaned yet again, opening your phone and deciding to message your boyfriend good morning.
y/n 🌸
- good morning ! i hope you had a decent sleep. we should definitely meet soon, i miss you.
You waited for a minute or two, just staring at the message you sent as it went from delivered to seen. Not a second passed, your boyfriend replied.
myung-gi 🩷
- yeah.
You sighed, gripping your phone tight to your chest, a heartache slowly forming as you stared up at the ceiling.
You wondered what he might be up to right now. He's never really been this cold before until last week, but you guessed that it was because he's busy trying to pay off his debt. You feel bad that you couldn't help him a little.
You know that he's not telling the truth about how big his debt really is, but being an ex-YouTuber with a lot of subscribers that fell for the crypto coin scam, there should be a lot.
The only thing you wanted to do was to help him find a way to pay off all his debt and restart his life, you'll do anything.
Facing your phone once again, you messaged him one last time before starting your day off, free from school and work.
y/n 🌸
- let's meet up later at our usual place, 11 AM sharp.
Closing off your phone, you decided not to wait for a reply. Standing up, you stretched and immediately went to the bathroom of your small apartment to clean off. After cleaning yourself, you went to the kitchen section of your apartment, opening up the stove, putting on a pan and pouring oil, then grabbing 2 eggs from your small fridge.
Yeah, sure, egg for breakfast, how original. But as a college student, you can't afford to lose even a little amount of money.
After cooking the eggs, you decided you also wanted buldak noodles to come with it.
You sighed for the nth time, staring at your phone. He didn't even bother to reply an 'ok'. Seriously, what has gotten into him?
Hours passed and it's not 10:30 AM. Deciding to take a quick bath, you went off. Locking your apartment door behind you, you check your phone again but seen no response or confirmation.
Arriving at the train station, you awaited for your train. Feeling your back ache from standing, you decided to sit down but immediately regretted it as you felt dizzy yet again and felt like puking. What has gotten into you this time? You can't be sick.
You then felt a presence beside you. Looking over, you saw the guy already staring at you which made you make a face. "Uhm. Can I help you?" You asked him.
He continue smiling at you, then showing you his suitcase and opening it. "Would you like to play with me?"
You stared at him in bewilderment, "Play... with you. Is this some kind of scam?" You accused as you stared at his suitcase that contains a red and blue papers and an uncountable amount of money, and you don't feel bad about accusing him one bit.
He chuckled, staring at his suitcase for a moment before looking at you and speaking again, "No, ma'am. We would only be playing ddakji, if you win, I will give you 100 000 won, and if I win, you will give me 100 000 won in return."
You stood up abruptly in shock, "What? Is this- Are you serious?"
He only nodded in return, slowly standing up to come face to face with you.
"I'm sorry, even if I wanted to- I don't have that amount of money," you admitted, dejectedly.
The business man's smile only widened in return, "You can pay with you body then." And before you can protest, he continued, "If you win I will give you 100 000 won, but if I win, I will slap you."
Now that sounds more like it... a slap isn't too bad, plus you're great at playing ddakji yourself so this shouldnt be a problem.
"Okay, lets do it."
...
100 000
Slap !
100 000
100 000
100 000
Slap !
100 000
...
"That should conclude our game."
"Wait- But I'm not done yet!" You exclaimed. Hoping to get at least 2 or 3 more wins.
The business man's smile ignored you as he fished out a calling card from his pocket. He offered it to you with a smile, too uncanny to your liking. You stared at him in confusion, staring between the calling card and his face.
"If you wish to play more games and win a bigger price, just call the number on this card." He said, answering the million question on your head.
You felt uneasy about this, "Now, this- This is a scam!"
"L/n Y/n, [birthdate], 23 years old, formerly used to live in seoul with your parents until you had to move out to pursue your college degree. You are not in debt, but you desperately need to help your boyfriend with his." He calmly said.
Your eyes widened in disbelief, how did he know this... This made him more suspicious but now that he mentioned your boyfriend's debt, you felt more desperate and wanting to trust him.
Dejectedly, you accepted the card from his hand. You stared at the symbols on the front, a square, a triangle, and a circle. Deciding to call the number later, you placed the card on your pouch.
"How did you-" You started, but was immediately cut off when the man you were just talking to disappeared as if he wasnt even there in the first place.
"Y/n."
You whipped your head to the side when you heard a familiar voice call to you. You smiled.
"Myung-gi."
You ran up to him and hugged him tight, "I missed you so much."
He hugged you back just as tight, "It's only been 3 days, Aegiya." He let go as he stared lovingly at your eyes.
You stared back with a small loving smile, taking in his appearance. He was wearing a hat, most likely to keep his identity as hidden as he can. He was also wearing a grey jacket that fits warmly against him. Even with just a simple outfit, he still looks stunning.
You pecked his lips as he stared at you in shock, "Not here, Aegiya," He muttered shyly.
You feigned shocked and hurt, "Wha-! You dare do that to me, you lover!?" You playfully smacked his arm to which he just laughed at with you following suit.
The both of you decided to eat lunch at a park, having only buy decent meals, enough to fill up your stomachs.
You hummed at the delicious sandwich you just tasted, deciding to talk to him, you asked, "Hey, Myung-gi."
That catches his attention as he paused from chewing his food and looked at you. He hummed, as if to tell that He's listening.
You continued, "You've been so busy lately, if I hadn't told you to meet up with me, would you have asked to meet up instead?"
That made him quiet, slowly chewing for a moment.
"I'm sorry," he quietly said, refusing to look at you.
"For what?" You asked, trying to search anything from his face as he apologized.
He was silent for a moment before responding again, "For everything."
You smiled, sighing from your nose. "It's okay...
I will always forgive you."
#lee myung gi x reader#lee myung gi#squid game x reader#squid game#squid game player 333#player 333#player 333 x reader#player 333 squid game#myung gi x reader#x reader#reader insert
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Conjunx
TFOne!D-16/Megatron x Cybertronian!Reader One Shot:
Here’s another One Shot with my bbg D-16. This one just cam e into mind so of course i got to writing. I’m pretty proud of this story and I enjoyed writing for only D. I hope you all enjoy!

Content: SFW, sad ending
TW/Tags: Fluff/Wholesomeness at beginning, D is precious and silly, angst after cut after wholesome romance, Implied abuse (mild), kidnapping, toxic relationship at end. Might make part 2? We’ll see what my brain throws at me at 2 am lol
Introduction Movie Oneshot Masterlist
You and D only really hanged out when Orion was around. Not because D was embarrassed but because Orion was usually busy doing something else. You were seen as a quiet bot and also cool by D. You always stood up to the superiors knowing you weren’t out of line. And despite being a few inches smaller then D. You were strong! D won’t admit it but he was defiantly attracted to you.
One day when getting off the train, Orion did something stupid again. Elita dragged him away to do a late mining shift as punishment. Later D was alone and worked on punching the punching bag in the mining quarters. The others left him be, knowing his temper without Orion. He was so focused he didn’t notice you came up behind him. Knowing he might try to punch you if you startled him. You descide to pick him up by the waist strartling him “Hey you glitchin bot! Put me dow- Oh its you.” You put him down. He looked at you no longer startled.
”Sorry D didn’t want you to punch me if I didn’t pick you up.” You chuckled.
”You know you could’ve handled my punches right?”
”Yes but I would’ve had to punch you back.”
”…..Good point.” He pointed his digit to you.
”You mind if we talk?” D almost froze as his smile shows to have strained a bit as he looked at you. “It’s nothing bad.” You chuckled. “Come on lets go where we can see the Iacon 5000 sign.”
“O-ok.” You two walked and once up there you finally spoke.
”So D I’ve been thinking. We’ve been good friends for a good while and was hoping. Since after all this time-“ You continue to speak as his head only started to overthink.
Was so lost in thought of you possibly leaving him that he barely heard you. He then heard you say Conjunx out of the blurr of what you’re saying. But that word brought him out of his thoughts “What you say?”
”D-16 will you be my Conjunx?” You were on one knee. (Thought it be cute shud up) D was dumbfounded until he realized and his face no longer showed a blank expression but had a cute little grin appear on his face. He then shakes a little. Little sounds of metal being heard. You reached a cervo toawrds him once you stood, a bit worried “Uhhh D??”
Then out of no where he hugged you and started spinning, you around as he shouted in cheer and joy. You were now dumbfounded and put your cervos on his shoulders gently patting. “So…..that’s a yes?” He then holds you up with his hands holding your waist.
”YES!!!!” I have been waiting for so lo-“ He looked at you once he stopped. He can tell you were trying to hold in a laugh. “Uhh”
”Guess tonight will be a night to never forget.” You both chuckled and embrace each other. Both of your foreheads touching as you two closed your eyes.
D then lets out a soft sigh as he gently lowers you. You standing once more. Your arms around his neck and his around your waist. Your foreheads still touching as you two stared into each other’s eyes.
”I love you Y/N”
”I love you D. Mine. Always and Forever.”
You both leaned closer together and as your lips both finally touch. The sparks in your chests soon glow. Shinning around you as you two stay in the moment together with the sign of Iacon 5000 behind you both in the dark city.
———————————————————————————
(Last chance guys skip this part if you don’t wanna feel pain)

Megatron sat in his throne as he thought about that night. It is truly the night to remember. After everything. He lost his best friend, his home, and after realizing he has been lied to for all his life up to now. He just couldn’t lose you. The high guard was third to him. His new cause is his new goal but you. YOU are the one thing that truly belongs to him.
As he sat there, his head resting on his fist as he watched the high guards having a meeting. He listened, only glancing down to see you every so often as you rest your head and one of your cervos against his chassis.
Your optics closed as you sat on his lap. You had a cog and a decepticon logo on your chassis. His arm around behind your back and cervo resting on your thigh. Your other cervo that wasn’t on his chest resting on top of his on your thigh. You had a few dents. Proof from when he forced you to come with him when sneaking into the city and take you with him. After some time he had to discipline you to behave. Same thing when he forced you to stay still as the Decepticon logo was put on you. You are His Conjunx. You should really learn to trust him. He even threatened to hurt you more if you chose to break the bond from that very night. Ever since then you’ve been tired and miserable. You always felt his feelings through the bond. But you can still feel that love he has for you. Only it’s much darker now.
You listened to his spark beat as you two stayed silent. Starscream and Shockwave started to argue as Soundwave sat there with a data pad. You’d slowly open your optics. You had a little rust under your eyes. Not very visible if far enough.
You cried. You cry every night after Megatron goes to recharge. The meeting eventually ends and Megatron dismisses everyone. Once everyone was gone he looked down at you. Finally lifting his head so he’s more straight sitting up. Moving his cervo to now hold your chin. Making you look at him as his now red optics narrowed and stared down at you. “Hungry sweetspark?” His voice was darker and rough. It still makes you flinch when he speaks to you.
You didn’t answer. You only shook your head as your optics remained dim. He leaned his head lower a bit. His face only inches from yours. “Almost Obedient…hm…”
You two remain silent for a moment.
“Mine. Always and Forever.”
He closes the distance. His lips connecting with yours once more after so long. His lips now cold as he closed his optics. You closed yours a second after.
But you didn’t return the kiss. His cervo moving from your thigh to the back of your head. Pushing your head a bit closer. Your kiss is no longer the same. His kiss. Is no longer the same. Megatron wasn’t Your D-16.
So….. y’all like 😗? If you wish for a part two please let me know.
#transformers one#transformers one x reader#tf d16#transformers d16#x reader#transformers x reader#light angst#one shot
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hii 😊 can you please write benny x yn where she thinks he’s a player so she doesn’t want to give him a chance and go on a date with someone else and that drives him crazy and he does everything for her to see him differently, even asks kathy to put in a good word for him
hi! 💝 I know you sent it like 2 hours ago – I swear, I am not insane but I was itching so badly to write something about Benny that... it's already here 👀 as much as I adore the fics with innocent, sweet Readers – my Reader talks back 😇🤭 I hope it's fine 😘
[ I haven't abandoned the three requests from my inbox from the last time, I promise ]
requests for benny are open 🥺🎀
Benny Cross was an insufferable guy. He was showing up at your diner nearly every day and always asking for the same thing with the same smug smile on his pretty full lips – and always getting your annoyed eye-rolls each time. Yeah, he was pretty and you wouldn’t deny that. And yeah, you could see why so many girls saw the appeal. Bad boys were in fashion now… Well, actually, where had they not been? But you didn’t want to end up as a girl in trouble. Perhaps you were just an ordinary waitress but you still didn’t want to ruin your life for a player. And you couldn’t understand why he wanted you so badly.
“I think it’s because you turned him down,” Kathy explained to you the other day. She was your friend and recently she had also been strangely associated with Benny’s motorbike gang – The Vandals. Ever since her breakup, you could not recognise her, honestly.
“I turned him down, exactly,” you emphasised. “Why can’t guys learn that no means no?” You sighed.
“Oh, please, it must feel… Flattering to be chased by a guy like Benny, right?” Kathy giggled and you looked away, trying not to reveal that yeah, she was right.
“Listen, I just don’t want to end up like my cousin. She had a one night stand with this bad boy at college and guess what? She had to drop out, now she’s a single baby mama and the guy? God only knows where. Some say he married another chick in Nevada,” you explained to Kathy.
“But you’re not in college,” she pointed out as her eyes widened and you just rolled your eyes.
Jesus, what was going on with her these days?
You couldn't know that it was Benny himself telling her to "spread the propaganda" so you'd be more willing to finally agree to go out with him. You couldn't know that you were driving this man crazy – driving him crazier than his motorbike. He would wake up at night all sweaty and all he could think about was you.
You were a tough cookie and you were a challenge – that was for sure. But Benny knew it was more than that. He already knew that his desire would not disappear after claiming you. In fact, it would only grow once he'd get a taste. He was serious about you and he was desperate for you to see it.

When Marcus Lane asked you out, you were speechless. You were walking out of a flower store with a fresh bouquet to put on your grandfather’s grave and he whistled at you.
You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the guy leaning on his car. And God, what a car that was… A shiny, black Cadillac that made your eyes sparkle.
“Hi!” You waved at him. “You’re back from college,” you pointed out.
“Yeah,” he nodded at you and lit a cigarette. He offered you one but you shook your head. “Couldn’t wait to visit my neighbourhood. I’m staying with my ma until the end of summer,” he explained. “Then I got a job for myself in New York City,” he bragged so casually.
You had always thought he was full of himself and full of shit, too, but out of all the guys in your high school year he had been the one who would succeed most likely. Apparently, it was true. He was going places.
“And how’s Camilla?” You asked him.
“We broke up,” he winced. “What you doing tonight?”
You blinked a few times and fixed your skirt. Marcus Lane asking you out?
“Nothin’,” you answered and tilted your head.
“Wanna go and see a picture?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah!” You nodded, not even asking what picture.
“Still living with your ma?”
“Yeah,” you answered.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he winked at you and you only nodded at him before walking away, not being able to hide a smile.
On your way back from the graveyard, you stopped by the laundry to tell Kathy the news but she didn’t look excited.
“He’s a knobhead, isn’t he? Always has been,” she shook her head.
“Wow, gee, thanks for being happy for me! You know he’s goin’ places and… He’s gonna be somebody,” you couldn’t help a grin.
“Don’t even start,” Kathy put her hands on her hips but you kept on a dreamy expression, so she snapped her fingers right in front of your face. “Guys like Marcus Lane do not date girls like us, wake up.”
“Why would he ask me out then?” You got defensive because your feelings and pride were hurt – mostly because you had a feeling Kathy was right.
“Because he’s back for the summer and bored? He saw you and thought he could play with you for a while before he leaves forever? Because he thinks a silly girl he remembers from high school might be an easy fuck for the summer?” Kathy asked and asked as your anxiety grew.
“Wow, thanks,” you got angry because you hated how right she could be. And sometimes you hated how honest she was instead of feeding your delusions. “I’m going out with him tonight and I’m not gonna sleep with him,” you told her before walking out to go back home and prepare for the night.

You wore a red polka dot top and tight jeans for the date instead of a dress. Marcus didn’t comment but he looked a little disappointed and you could see that on his face. He kept staring at your thighs as he drove you to the cinema, which increased your anxiety that Kathy could had been right indeed… More than you had expected.
You went to see Bonnie and Clyde and after the movie, Marcus insisted on taking you to a club in the neighbourhood. It was one of those places you would never go to alone but with a man around, you felt safer. At least you should feel this way. But something about Marcus was not right. Why would a proper guy like him even want to take you to a club like that? Perhaps because he was seeing you as a girl like that. You didn’t disagree, though. The idea of getting free drinks was tempting.
“Looks like some of those dirty bums have a meeting here tonight,” he murmured to himself as you walked inside and you sighed at the sight of The Vandals themselves.
The whole place was full of cigarette smoke and it stank of sweat, leather and grease.
“I hate those punks,” Marcus winced. “Sit here, I’ll get us something to drink,” he winked at you as he sat you down by one of the tables and you nodded,
He walked away, without even asking you what you wanted. You looked around, feeling out of place and then you spotted him… Benny Cross by the pool table. You quickly looked the other way but he glanced in your direction and smirked.
You pretended to be very fascinated by the posters on the wall but he sat by the table next to yours and kept grinning at you with his flashy smile, his muscles all on display as he rested his arms on the chair’s backrest.
Seeing you there, it made his heart skip a beat. And those tight blue jeans, that red top... Benny was smug for a moment, thinking that you finally decided to hang out with him. He had been inviting you to this club many times before.
However, he quickly realised that you weren' there alone. And the guy you came with made him feel sick in his stomach. Not only because he looked like a typical piece of shit that would take advantage of a girl like you... But also because this guy represented everything that Benny was not. And it was making him feel insecure at the moment. Of course your standards were higher than a guy like him. That was one of the reasons why he liked you so much.
Still, he decided to play his little game and annoy you a little.
Marcus came back with two drinks in his hand and he looked Benny up and down before placing a drink in front of you.
“That punk bothering you?” He asked – quite bravely, you had to admit. But Benny remained the same as if he was a statue.
“For weeks now,” you chuckled and watched Marcus take a seat in front of you, still glancing angrily at Benny on your right.
“Is he stupid or somethin’?” Marcus asked.
“It’s fine. Let’s just pretend he’s not here,” you shrugged your arms.
In fact, you enjoyed it. And you wanted to pretend to like Marcus more than you did so Benny would finally realise you were not interested.
Still… You couldn’t help an odd feeling of safety now when he was sitting next to you and some part of you didn’t want him to walk away and leave you alone with Marcus.
“So, what do you think about the movie?” Marcus asked and sipped on his drink as you sipped on yours. Benny raised an eyebrow at you.
“We were in the cinema to watch Bonnie and Clyde,” you informed him quickly as if he was in the audience and you were an actress in the theatre but he was late and you wanted him to catch on. He nodded his head like a little boy and Marcus gritted his teeth. “Well,” you addressed your date now as you fixed your hair nonchalantly. “I adored it. And Warren Beatty was beautiful as always.”
“I don’t like him,” Marcus commented. “And I didn’t like the movie much. My favourite part was when they got killed.”
“Why?” You asked. It was already getting difficult to pretend to like him. And Benny seemed to be interested by his answer too – he tilted his head.
“Because they were outlaws and a couple of twisted psychos!” Marcus got irritated – at Benny still being there and at you asking such silly questions with such obvious answers.
“Yeah, they were but there’s also some romanticism to it, don’t you think? That’s why they made a movie about them. And why did you even go to see a movie about people you despise so much?” You asked and sipped on your drink again.
“You can’t be serious. There’s nothing romantic about murdering people,” Marcus started sounding very patronising and you suddenly realised that Kathy had been right. So, so much. You were a silly girl in his eyes.
“Murdering – no. But the life they had. The love, the freedom on the road,” you tried to explain.
“You want freedom on the road? Ask one of those bums here to show you,” Marcus laughed with irony and he squinted his eyes at Benny. “What you still doing here, punk? How can I get it into your thick head that you’re not a part of this conversation? It’s my date,” he scoffed.
“It’s my girl,” Benny leaned back with a smug smile and your heart skipped a beat.
Usually, when he’d call you that, you would get angry. But now, when Marcus had been annoying you for the whole evening, you actually enjoyed that. Because Marcus’ face was priceless. He looked at you with disgust.
“Is this true?” He asked you. “What the hell is going on?”
But before you could answer, some drunk and loud biker entered the club loudly as he laughed out loud.
“Fuck, I’ve scratched some Cadillac in the front!” He announced and sat by the counter to order beer. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that and Marcus’ face went as red as tomato.
He stood up rapidly, gave you a furious look and then ran outside to check on his beloved car, surely. Not caring much about the fact he was leaving you alone with dangerous men swarming around.
“So…” Benny started lazily as he licked his lips before looking you up and down. “That’s your type?” He pointed his thumb at the door Marcus had just left through. “That why you didn’t want me to take you out?”
“Why did you do that?” You asked, genuinely and his face got serious now.
“I saw you sittin’ here all alone, for a moment I thought… You came here for me,” he admitted with a laugh. “Then I saw that guy and I thought to myself: Jesus, what an asshole. So, I wanted to watch,” he shrugged his arms and you couldn’t help but stare at the flexing muscles and all the tattoos.
“He’s a proper guy. Graduated from college and with a job waiting for him in New York City,” you explained.
“But you’re not a proper girl,” Benny pointed out with a grin and you suddenly got a flashback of Kathy telling you the same thing – that you were just a silly girl for Marcus, just an easy fuck for the summer…
You stood up rapidly and Benny looked up with a confused look on his face but you ignored him and left the club, hoping Marcus was still there and you could explain to him that you weren’t Benny’s girl… Maybe he’d drive you home?
But Marcus wasn’t there anymore. The only vehicles in the parking lot were motorbikes. You sighed and started walking in the direction of the bus stop but the door opened behind you. You heard heavy footsteps and then the sound of lighting a cigarette. Turning around slightly, you spotted Benny following you.
“Just wanted to point out that proper girls don’t find Bonnie and Clyde romantic,” with a few big steps he was now walking next to you.
“It’s not the murdering aspect, gee, why do I have to explain it so many times?” You got irritated.
“I didn’t say anything ‘bout it. You said something about the freedom and the road. You ever been on the open road like that?” Benny asked and you already knew what he wanted to propose because he had been mentioning it many times before while flirting with you at the diner.
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I need a ride home,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip. “And no, I’ve never been. On the open road, I mean,” you added, feeling your cheeks heating up.
Benny didn’t say anything, he only nodded before throwing his cigarette on the ground and walking away to jump on his motorbike. He started the engine and patiently waited for you to finally join him. Feeling the rush of adrenaline going through your body, you clumsily sat behind him and he made the engine roar like a lion – a very sexy sound, you had to admit – but he didn’t start driving. You realised he was giving you a signal to hold onto something before he would drive away. It was considerate of him, you had to admit. Other guys would just drive away and laugh at your squealing. But Benny wanted you to be safe and for the second time on that night you realised that he was making you feel safe. Safer than a proper guy like Marcus – for sure. And you just didn’t know what to do with this information.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, told him your address and that was when the engine roared again but this time he drove away.
And God, something broke inside of you that moment. It was as if your brain chemistry changed completely. The speed, the wind in your hair, the freedom – this odd feeling that he could take you anywhere like this and you would go with him… To the point that when you spotted him taking a turn that led to your street, you nearly felt disappointed that he wasn’t “kidnapping” you. Perhaps in this moment you understood your cousin even – why had it been so tempting to risk everything for a handsome bad boy.
Benny parked the motorbike in front of your house and you could already spot your mum standing by the window upstairs and looking out through the curtain. You chuckled at the realisation you would have to explain to her how your date with Marcus ended with a guy like Benny taking you home.
“Thanks,” you only said as you got off the bike, still clinging to his leather jacket to make sure you wouldn’t trip and fall. You were a little breathless after that ride.
“And? What do you think?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow.
“It was… Okay,” you grinned, not wanting to give him satisfaction.
“Why do you tease me so much?” Benny sighed.
He was done with playing for now. He just wanted to know the answer. Perhaps it would finally make him give up. Or perhaps it would educate him on the matter how to flirt with you better. Either way, he just wanted the truth.
“Why do you insist so much? I mean, I ain’t nothing special to chase me around for weeks,” you shrugged your arms. “And don’t get me wrong – or actually do get me wrong, the hell do I care? – but I don’t want to be just another number in your book, Benny,” you explained and Benny thought to himself that he wished you could see yourself through his eyes.
“You’re a whole book, kitty,” he winked at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Sometimes his flirting had this effect on you whether you liked it or not. “And I can’t wait to read it all,” he added, encouraged by your reaction.
“You can read?” You asked, teasingly.
“I’m full of surprises,” he smirked.
“That I see,” you laughed. “Um… I should go now… My ma’s watching us.”
“I can see,” Benny nodded and looked up at the window upstairs. He waved his hand and you grabbed him by his wrist to pull it down.
“Stop it!” You kept laughing at him and then you realised your face was only a few inches away from his as he was still sitting on his motorbike, ready to drive away any given moment.
A short moment of silence occurred between you two and you just kept staring into each other’s eyes as playful smiles disappeared from your faces. You swallowed thickly and fixed his jacket, not knowing what to do with your hands.
“You have a shift tomorrow?” He broke the silence.
“In the evening,” you nodded.
“So… See you?” Benny asked, unsurely.
“See you,” you smiled at him and he smiled back, relieved. “And hey, thanks for… For being there for me when I was with the… With the asshole,” you lowered your voice and took a step back to give him space now – finally.
“No need to thank me,” he shrugged his arms. “It’s just the thing I do, ain’t it?”
You furrowed your brows at those words.
“Protectin’ my girl,” he winked at you and the engine roared, making you take a few more steps back. And then he drove away – just like that.
Shaking your head and hugging your own self to feel warmer, you walked to the front door of your house, biting on your lip and not being able to help a chuckle.
Apparently, Benny had already decided that you were his girl. And, apparently – you enjoyed it.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST
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How...how are you alive?
Kenji sato x Fem! [Different demention] Reader.
☆♡☆♡☆
SUMMARY:Ken had a lover named Y/n, but she had passed away. He was devastated from that. Then 2 years later his mother was declared dead. So he took the opportunity to move to japan and restart his career in his home country. But then something strange happened. There was a exact copy of his lover in his living room. Except she wasnt his y/n. She was different.....from a different demention.
[A/n:Im gonna try and make this into like a series i guess lol]
(Warning: sexual tension, angst, confusion, crying, my cutie ken sad basically the whole story. Y/n has brown eyes & brown hair[ya know bc shes from a different demention]<tell me if i missed any>)
Pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5.
♡♡♡♡
It was different. Sad. Not like what he had thought his life would feel like. Y/n had died 2 years ago because of cancer. He remembers her blue eyes sparkling like the ocean when the sun began to rise from the night sky. Her blonde hair swaying in the wind perfectly all fluffy and soft. Her plumped lips smiling showing her pearly white teeth. Her dress would be thigh length and sway in the wind so majestically. Her sweet voice would say the most beautiful things when she spoke. But then....her eyes became dried cracked wholes in her head. Her hair began to fall out and become like straw. Her smile started to turn into a signature line. Her voice started to sound ruff and hard. But one thing never changed. How much she loved Kenji. Everytime she saw him walk into her hospital room with the signature red roses and smiling happy to see her fiancé. But then it all ended with that one last beep on the monitor. After that he didnt want to find love ever again. It hurt to much. The sound of her laughter when they would cuddle and tickle each other. Or when they would wake up with each other in bed and stay there all day. It wouldn't be the same.
Then 2 years after that his mom was declared dead. Something snapped in him. He moved to japan to restart his career and forget about everything that wanted to make him cry all day.
So now he was on his way to play basbell. The Giants. Fight as Ultra man. And restart. But how he had asked to please make the pain stop to anything that could have the power to. Anything.
.
.
.
That was until he woke up to a crashing in his living room and a female screaming.
He had grabbed his baseball bat and tip toed to the sound. It was a girl. A women. She turned around and looked at him scared.
.
.
.
It was Y/n.
But it wasn't her exactly....She has brown hair and brown eyes. Probably taller than her and more plump in some areas...*ahem*.
"(Y/n?)"
She looked even more confused. "Uh, yes" she said uncertain. "Who are you and why the fuck am i here?"
He was in shock. Why was there someone that looked like his y/n but so so different. Plus his y/n never cussed. The only bad word he ever heard her say was crap. And she said fuck like shes used to saying it.
"W-Wait, you dont know me?" Kenji asked confused. He waited for her answer. ".....nooo?"
Fuck. What the fuck. How is this possible.
But, after some time. He learned that Y/n was 22 and was living in California. She worked at a cafe and book store to make ends meat. She was the complete opposite to what y/n was like. She didn't even have the same color at all like her. Brown hair, brown eyes, playful/sassy attitude and less innocent.
"Well, can you help me get to my home demention because like ya know, im not suppose to be in this one?"
Damn. She's right. She has to go home sometime. He looks at her thinking.
"Plus, everytime you look at me your litterely burning holes into my ass and tits"
Yep she definitely not his Y/n. How will this go now. His life is already a mess to began with...
♡♡♡♡
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(SPOILERS) breaking down how obsessed Andrew is w/his sister bc he's a repressed lil liar and I'm going insane
This post got longer than I intended it to
1. He claims they don't spend enough time apart from each other to even begin missing her so he doesn't even know if he would, but just earlier in the game he was apart from her for probs like 30 mins tops to investigates some cultists and guess what???? He was already missing her 😒
2. Says "I thought you grew out of this touchy-feely crap" when Ashley asks for a hug, but earlier when he was cooking dinner, he was the one with the inexplicable urge to "pull this broody bitch into [his] arms and force her to stay until she smiles" 😒
3. Piggy-backing off the last screenshot: WHAT OTHER THOUGHTS, ANDREW??? yOU WERE JUST THINKING ABT HUGGING HER. WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. THESE ARE SIMPLY INNOCENT BROTHERLY THOUGHTS ARE THEY NOT????? 🤨🤨🤨
4. Bro just can't keep his hands off her. And everyone thinks Ashley's the clingy one jeez (lol the way he springs apart from her when Mom catches them is definitely definitelyyyy not worth analyzing. nope. not even when it happens a second time on the couch. nope. nooope)
5. What. What is he thinking here. Don't think I don't see those grey lil blush lines. Is this connected to my third point somehow bc like... 🤨😬 Is "Andrew" is gonna start doing and being what "Andy" was too spineless and afraid of doing?? That's what the vow was partly abt right?? Does that include—
5. WHEWWW BOY that little flashback with his gf has so much baggage in it I just wanna dissect. His girlfriend's tryna have a serious discussion with him abt his weird sister for the sake of bettering their relationship bc she genuinely loves him, but he just gets caught up in fondly talking abt said weird sister instead??
6. He's awfully hesitant abt Ashley learning some independence, bc y'know what?? I think he doesn't really want her to stop relying on him. But what do I know y'know
6. Wants his gf to put tie her hair up in a ponytail, then when she refuses bc he'll pull on it, says it's just "how boys express their love". Well. You know who else puts there hair up in a ponytail??? You know who else's hair he's always pulling on and touching???
7. The voicemails in his gf's phone left by Ashley are heard by him in his dreams, and his dreams are a construction of his mind utilizing his memories, personal hangups, and knowledge of Ashley. The voicemails irl were left on his gf's phone, and for all we know, he never actually listened to them in person. Bearing this in mind... odds are the things Ashley's saying contain bits of truths he believes within himself, filtered thru her crude, hateful dialogue.
Here. I transcribed one of them...
"DO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? Just because you can fuck him and I can't? You think that's love?! Are you fucking delusional?? Cumdumpsters like you are just that. He will never love you. Not like he loves me. I am the only one. I am everything. I am the secrets you'll never hear. When he lies in bed at night, and when he needs someone to hold on to… It's not you he seeks out. It is me."
8. Claims Ashley's the one with the jealous streak, not him, but I think he's just as bad. The only difference is that Ashley's never given him reason to act on it since all she's ever wanted was him, but at the slightest mention of her gettin it on w/someone else, even as a joke, he gets mad. "OVER MY DEAD BODY!!" he says, when she's jokingly contemplating getting knocked up via the neighbor so an ambulance would come for her. "I wouldn't let them," he says, when she's complaining abt not being pretty enough for the wardens to bang her
9. Going hand-in-hand with that fact, he's intensely protective of her. Didn't hesitate to cleaver the warden who found her in the closet (probs didn't even BLINK lmaooo he chose VIOLENCE), and when the cake-stealing cultist insulted her just once, he stepped forward just like that
10. In their apt, when they were lying on the floor talking abt jumping off the balcony, he was really caught up in the "romantic" fantasy of them committing a double suicide and dying with their bodies entwined so irreparably by the impact they form one unified corpse "never to be separated!" and they get buried in the same coffin together. UM??? Bro fr thought he was the sane one of the two. That wasn't even true before the cannibalism and demon summoning 😭😭😭
BONUS:
11. This might just be me, but his reaction to seeing the post-sex vision doesn't strike me as someone who's inherently opposed to the idea. Instead of disgusted, he was... flustered?? He acted like she walked in mid-guilty pleasure wet dream. This wasn't a "GROSS THATS INCEST" reaction which is... the most normal reaction to have. That's the face of a man that got CAUGHT bro.
He asks "we're not like that, are we?" and "why are you like this?" and questions the veracity of the vision, but he never actually explicitly denies wanting the vision to happen, more focused on Ashley and her reaction. He buries the elephant under the rug as fast as he can, bc yeah, it struck a landmine, but it probably wasn't a landmine for the reason Ashley thinks it is. I bet the vision just hit a little too close... :P
#the coffin of andy and leyley#coffincest#andrew x ashley#tcoaal#txt post#character analysis#andrew graves#bro is MESSED UP and I'm only scratching the surface#half of this post is analyzing his gf and I'm not even done man I didn't even mention how Julia is both a foil for Ashley and a lookalike#he both chose a girl completely different from her (mfer's compensating) and someone who reminds him of her
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take a seat (m)
Pairing: chan x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 2.9k tags: house mates au, couch sex, spitting, thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem. receiving) Summary: Who knew your favorite seat would someone else’s lap, let alone Lee Chan of all people. author note: hi. yall don't know how hype i am to see all of dino variety appearances, not only that. i am so proud of how far he's come. i only can say this was all him. finally his merit is being shown and appreciated. this is all so amazing. what an great time to be alive.
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch
It was the dead of night, long hours past hours of dusk and you were hitting the liquid fire too carelessly. You were starting to see things not clearly and started seeing people that you wouldn’t otherwise think about look more breathtaking than the rest. Every sway, every gaze, every lock of hair. He moved with both precision and ease, so effortlessly perfect in every light that hit him.
He even had you bewitched, probably the last person that would’ve ever thought these things about him. He’s charming—no doubt about it—but young and bright wasn’t your type. Lee Chan had to be the youngest and brightest. You knew one day you’d drown that brightness until that light would turn dim. That’s what you’ve always said, now you could feel your dribble coming from both ends.
You picked up remnants from your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes not once led astray away from his body that moved like shadows. Your legs stayed clamped together, twisting and turning in your seat. ‘Maybe it was the alcohol’, you thought, but that churn in your stomach and that shiver down your spine made it undeniable. Every time his eyes went as far as lingering in your direction, you’d flicker your gaze elsewhere in fear of being caught. You were ninety-seven percent sober at this point, and that mindset hadn’t changed.
“Okay, let’s wrap it up! 2 am. Time to get going. Uber everyone!” Seungcheol rounded up all his friends, pulling his phone out of his pocket to grab a ride.
You stood off to the side, silently observing as most of your friends tried animatedly convincing Seungcheol that the night was still young. He was still in your sight, so crazy mesmerizing that it made you claw up your own thigh. Your feet tapped anxiously against the concrete, pretending to think about anything else, and soon enough an SUV with a big logo on the windshield.
“Get in, children!”
“Wait,” you stopped them in their tracks, “there’s only enough for four extra people. We have five.”
Seungcheol shrugged, “I figured we could squeeze, or have someone sit on someone else’s lap.”
“We’re five fully grown adults,” Wonwoo interjected matter-of-factly, “There’s no squeezing. Any volunteers?”
You sighed, “I guess I will, since I’m a last minute addition tonight.”
“Alright, Chan will be the sacrificial lamb.”
The rest of your friends stared back at the young man expectedly, a puzzled expression on his face. “Uh, sure. No problem with me.”
You offered him an awkward smile before mouthing ‘sorry,’ to which he nodded, giving you silent reassurance that all was okay.
Everyone else made themselves comfortable and you made do with the painfully awkward situation, feeling Chan’s smooth and toned legs as you sat down. Like heaven underneath you, you almost melted into the durability of his thighs, nearly audibly moaning upon contact. You shifted your weight in his lap cautiously, attempting to find a less than comfortable position with no signs of success, having you internally curse to yourself. Like you were doing to your sanity, you gripped the bar above the car door to keep still, shallow breaths escaping your lungs. You glanced back at him apologetically; (1) for practically using him like a chair, (2) for enjoying it immensely.
“Am I heavy? I am, aren't I?”
He shook his head reassuringly, kindness in his eyes. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”
One fast run over a speed bump and the lack of a seat belt caused a bounce against your fleshy seat. Chan instinctively found purchase around your waist, guiding you back to his lap safely as he locked his arms around you like an automatic safety net. His groan rose the hairs on your arms and the sensation of his toned chest hitting your back in his embrace made you swallow back audibly pleasure.
“Chan,” you softly moaned, sounding more sexually charged than you intended.
“Still good,” he repeated in a rasp, a subtle but noticeable flush on his cheeks. “Nothing I didn’t expect.”
Your other housemates chuckled like silent observers, keeping to themselves. The eldest passenger of all cleared his throat before making his announcement. ���Sit tight, guys. We’re almost back at the sharehouse.”
No sworn word of Seungcheol could drop your elevated heart rate. Every passing minute you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were held for all those two seconds, feeling the pool of your heat dampen the thin fabric of your underwear. You avoided his eyes the rest of the trip, ignoring the burning churn in your stomach.
You couldn’t run out of that car fast enough when you reached the sharehouse lot. Your heart pumping out of your chest, you were ready to absolve all unchaste sensations to save face by locking yourself in your room for as long as you could. The others were quick to follow behind and you heard their footsteps a beat after yours up the stairs.
“Hey wait!”
Chan’s voice at the end of the hall could stop you from swinging your door for it to shut, sparing you a moment of peace. That moment didn’t last all that long before there was a knock on the other side of the door. Through the wood, you can hear the heavy panting of a man who ran too many flights of stairs too quickly to get there, you know because you were hyperventilating the same way getting away from him.
“You ran…so fast…barely caught up.”
You softly cleared your own throat, taking your time to speak through the door. “Sorry, Chan,” you croaked. “Really tired. Couldn’t wait to knock out. Maybe I can help you out with whatever you need tomorrow?”
“Oh, nothing like that. You ran away—I mean off—so quickly you dropped your wallet in the car.”
“Oh. Okay, uh.” You opened the door, viewing his relieved smile stretched across his cheeks. “Thanks, Chan.”
He handed it to you, his gentle touch slipped past yours and the sensation tensed against your skin. “No problem. Oh hey, are you coming to the event tomorrow too? Should be fun.”
You shook your head. “Oh, no. I mean tonight was great, but I’m probably just gonna recharge tomorrow.”
He nodded agreeably. “Ok. Sounds good.”
“Mmh,” you lingered at the door a moment too long, unsure of what to say next. “Well, good night, Chan.”
He politely smiled. “Good night.”
The door closed, shutting out the outside world, peace—finally—in its wake. That’s what you thought anyway.
The reality was that the following day took forever to come when you could hardly sleep, finding it in you only when the sun was an hour from rising. Most of the morning was spent in bed, listening to the rustle behind the very thin walls.
It was still the weekend but somehow the other people you lived with managed to keep themselves busy, probably because it was that much closer to Halloween. Even leaving your room, you see the house full of festivities from fake skeletons and sticky spiderwebs. They were nice to look at but not something you found a reason to go out for.
And for once, it looks like you aren’t alone. You weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing yet.
“You didn’t go to the party?” you plainly pointed out.
Chan shrugged from down the stairs, flaunting his Ironman tee shirt and sweatpants. “Thought it wouldn’t be as fun without you.”
“Yeah,” You smiled amused coming down the steps, “because I’m the life of the party, right?”
He chuckled, complexion somehow glossy and radiant in the darkness of the stairwell. “Those guys can be a lot and you’re chill. It’s a nice change of pace.”
The silence in the house was deafening. Had it been any other day before yesterday, this would’ve been fine—civil even—but the back of your head told you things. Things you wanted to do him from front to back, head to toe, sideways, all of the above. Chan had this vice grip on you that escape didn't even seem like an option.
“So we’re just like, the only people at the sharehouse right now?”
“That alright?”
“…sure.”
You ended up sharing the common room together, pretending as if inner demons wasn’t grinding your gears. The first thirty minutes went up in silence and silent chuckles while Halloween Town played, a healthy distance in between you both. Even if you didn’t celebrate the holiday that much, you enjoyed the movies.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much of a better time are you having than yesterday?”
You waved your hands defensively, laughing. “It’s not like that.”
He scoffed, watching you from his peripheral. “You were sitting at the bar all night just watching. You must’ve been bored.”
“I had fun, it’s just…staying home is nice sometimes. Not so suffocating.”
“Like that car ride, maybe?”
You let out quiet laughs, crossing your arms. “Ha. A little bit Kind of a bumpy ride.”
He looked for signs of any discomfort, memories of the night prior flashing in his head including the weight of your body against his. “If I startled you last night, sorry.”
“No, not at all. Your lap is actually comfortable.” The realization hit you like a bus and suddenly you had flying saucers for eyes.
He smiled at your expression, pressing it into a thin line to suppress the laughter threatening to erupt. “Really? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I didn’t—I slipped. You kept me from flying out of my seat and out the window, you know? I just say dumb shit. Ignore it.”
“Noted, but since you said it…having you sit in my lap was an experience I didn’t think I’d enjoy as much as I did.”
You stared at him for a while, a thousand and one things running through your mind, one being the theory that he didn’t seem to hate what he was put through either.
“You can go ahead and ignore that if you want.”
Then your hand landed on his, wrapping around his digits as you lifted off the couch and in front of him. He quietly watched you turn around with your back towards his and slowly drop into his lap. You familiarized yourself with their warmth, your legs softly parted to embrace both his sides. Turning your head, you met eyes in sultry ponder, anticipating his reaction.
“Like that?” You asked, feigning innocence.
He gazed up at you in soft wonder, lightly shifting in his seat and pressing his back into the couch. “Yeah…just like that.”
You hummed contentedly, stabling yourself against furniture. Naturally, desire took a form inside you and you found yourself putting your full weight against him, causing the tension of his muscles. “It’s a lot more comfortable than yesterday actually. Maybe because I can—“you coughed before you let the words leave your lips.
“Feel me through my pants?” He finished cheekily.
You softly chuckled. “No comment.”
He matched your smile, teeth finding the flesh of his bottom lip and biting until he tasted metal. He cursed under his breath, hands finding purchase on your hips and ingraining your shape in every wrinkle of his brain. His moans vibrated against your skin, garnering every ounce of power in him to take things slow. These were the kinds of things meant to be savored.
Your body then moved like waves, crashing into him like a brewing storm. Your legs clamped around one of his thighs, rolling your heat at the girth of his leg and admiring the sensation of it flexing underneath you. Chan let out soft grunts, quietly expelling air through his nose. You mused back at him. “You like that? That feel good?”
He only moaned in response, to which you smiled. You let your back connect with his chest, grinding down his lap as the print of his cock hugged between your cheeks. “You’re so big, Chan…”
His hands ran over your thighs, finding the hem of your shorts before his fingers delicately hovered over your clothed arousal. He felt your breath hitch and he pressed a single digit before he dragged it through your covered folds. You moaned loudly in his ear—the TV not standing a chance of drowning it out—while your breath burned his skin and pebbled his skin. You spread your legs to give him more real estate, noticing already how the fluid layered on your inner thighs.
“I can feel how wet you are,” he purred, “how do you feel about taking these off?”
You swallowed. “Yes, please…”
He helped to lay you bare, touching you as his hips dug into the plush flesh of your ass. He only grew bigger under your touch all while you grew wet under his. Body and sweat fusing into one, your chest heaved as Chan’s fingers circled around your slit, squeezing clit between two digits.
Then he stopped himself, a thought popping ingeniously in his head, and he brought his hand up to your face, “Spit in my hand.”
You looked back at it hesitantly, seeing the film of your remnants on every single finger. Nonetheless, you did as he requested, noting the size of the splatter. His hand went down to find you again, rubbing the moisture in until you were coated all over. His fingers hooked inside and stretched your walls to split you open. He made room to plunge deeper between your molten walls at a practiced pace. You mewled like a feral animal, coming apart with your legs occasionally elevating off him in defeat.
Your legs hooked on either side of his thighs, shaking. You felt his breath on your neck, teeth grazing the skin, voice indicating his focus on your pleasure and how it came to fruition. You were transfixed on his moment, seconds away from cumming, and you weren’t afraid to let him know. “I’m gonna, Mmh, Chan, I’m gonna cum…”
“Do it,” he breathed, shuddering, “I wanna feel you cum in my hand.”
You cried when it happened, falling back against him to the point he held your thighs against your chest. He slapped the back of your thigh every time you jumped, oh well, his fingers jackhammered you into submission. You bucked around them, squirming for release and Chan’s encouragement was more than enough motivation. “Cum for me, hmm…”
Your face grew hot, your legs weak as they bounced in his grip. You clenched around his fingers, stuttering your hips as your vision of light turned into shooting stars. “Yes, yes, shit!”
Chan pulled out of you to look at their milky sheen, practically dripping liquid gold before they entered his mouth. His tongue swept over every finger, sucking them like milk from a bottle. He pushed them in knuckles deep and noticeably his eyes rolled back in his skull in response. His moans deepened into praises, licking every drop until they were nearly squeaky clean. He glazed over you in contempt, mischief on his lips before smiling sweetly as if not a dark thought in his mind, although that was far from the truth.
“Bend over for me.”
You blinked back at him in a daze. “Huh?”
He pushed you until your hands reached the ground and he buried his face between your cheeks. His tongue lapping up your climax, the hug of your flesh around his face bringing him to enlightenment. That time you screamed, screamed loud enough that if anyone were here at home they’d hear but no it was just the two of you, so you screamed louder. Your hand planted against the wood boards, buzzing, moaning as you felt the wetness from his tongue circle around your folds to then taste what was in between.
He sounded hungry. As If he hadn’t been let out of his cage until now. His hands spread you apart, the full length of his tongue fucking you stupid until you could taste ecstasy on your own tongue.
“The prettiest fucking pussy…” he sucked out every last drop as his thumb rubbed against your swollen clit, “I’ve ever fucking seen…”
Your heart was going at a million beats a minute. You felt tied to a post flinching in and out as he rutted you with his mouth. Sweat beading your already clammy body. Drool and cum running down your thighs. You convulsed around his tongue as tears brimmed in your eyes. “Chan, ngh, too much—fuck, you’re gonna make me explode—“
“Can’t,” he said between breaths. His fingerprints stained your flesh, gripping you so hard that he could see the marks he made into your flesh as he took you in rapid and needy strokes. “So good…you taste so fucking good…”
You whined helplessly, lifting your face from the ground. “Chan—oh fuck—please...”
Having you claw at the floor it wasn’t until he made you cum again that he’d stop, feeling you pulse around his tongue. A hearty moan escaped him tasting your climax in real time, savoring the release until what’s inside of his mouth was painted a solid white.
He came up to the surface with half his face covered in your arousal like a gold medal for the clean plate club, licking away whatever remained on his lips. He pulled you back up against him, resting against the sound drumming of his chest.
You took his clean hand, locking yours through it. You kissed his cheek, briefly tasting your salty tang. He glanced back at you, a soft gentle smile on his face before connecting your lips for the first time, the familiar taste now pungent and enticing from his lips. “You felt and tasted,” he added bashfully, laughing, “incredible. I hope you’re not too tired, I’d really like to know how it feels you riding me with my cock inside you.”
“We can have that arranged.”
#svthub#dino smut#seventeen smut#dino#lee Chan#seventeen#lee chan smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#dino x reader#dino x you#dino x y/n#seventeen fanfic#seventeen dino#svt x reader#svt x you#svt x y/n
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Future🍂
Summary: Daryl’s the only one that’s ever made you feel loved so when you get separated during the apocalypse you feel lost without him
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader
•Masterlist•

Daryl was there for me growing up and I was there for him, when his dad acted out on him I was there to hold him through the night, when a guy would break my heart he’d do everything he could to cheer me up, we were inseparable, so we saved money and bought a little house in the woods together, it was peaceful everything was just settling for us, eventually he asked me to be his girl and it was the happiest day of my life
Then came the apocalypse, thankfully I was with him when everything happened and he took me to the quarry away from the town staying far away from big crowds, we shared a tent and I’d grip him tight at night scared that if I closed my eyes he’d be gone in the morning or something would happen and he’d turn into a walker
Eventually we made it to the farm, life seems like it can be good here, there’s water, land to grow crops, chickens and livestock, even after everything that’s happened including Daryl’s accident I’ve felt a sense of calm for once
“Hey sunshine ya doin okay?” Daryl asked as he sat next to me around the low burning fire as he handed me a plate of bacon and eggs
“Oh yeah I’m fine just thinking about how we use to live, remember all the plans I had for our home, all the recipes I wanted to make, all the trips I wanted to experience with you, a family…….” I said the last part under my breath but the man had the ears of a bat
“Ya wanted a family…..with me?” He asked a bit of shock laced in his voice
“Of course D why would I, have a little girl running around with crazy dark hair like yours, seeing you play with her, maybe getting a dog you like, I just had so much more for us, but I’m still grateful that we were able to escaped together”
“Maybe one day we can still have that, ya never know sunshine, I wish I coulda given ya more”
“You give me plenty Daryl”
Everything was happening so quickly one minute the barns on fire the next there are walkers swarming the farm, I tried to get to Daryl but I got cornered by walkers having to run into the woods, my heart was beating so fast that was all I could hear, running for what seemed like hours till the sun started to rise, eventually I couldn’t hear anymore groans and moans of walkers, I slumped against a tree exhausted when I realized I’m in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to get back or where to even start looking for Daryl
That heavy feeling gripped my heart voiding me of any emotion but despair, I walked and walked and walked down the long winding road heading South, making stops for any supplies left at random houses or stores I came by, 2 months into be on the road I became sick, not being able to keep anything down, exhausted more from the long days of walking, coming to realize I was pregnant, it gave me a little bit of hope knowing that if I truly never found Daryl again atleast I’d have a part of him still
The months dragged on until my belly was plump with a little Dixon, luckily I found a house unscathed from seekers, the food stocked high which made sure I was malnourished during this pregnancy, I loaded up a car with the groceries and drove, everything worked for a few months, I am guessing I’m about 7 months now and the food was running low and the gas was running out, slowly my car came to a halt, I got out feeling the Georgia heat when I heard running water, I ventured into the trees with my canteen finding a a small man made waterfall, I filled the canteen when I heard shots, looking forward over a hill I see a prison, people walking around, I was secure no walker inside, distracted I didn’t notice where I was stepping and stepped right onto a nail on the train tracks making my fall and bust my eyebrow open, my knees ached and my hands were bloody, I pulled my self up screaming when I ripped my foot off the nail, the scream alerted near by walkers until they swarmed around me, I was scared and weak, this couldn’t be how I go I still haven’t found Daryl and I had to protect this baby
I gathered as much strength as possible running towards the prison gates, praying they would take me in and help just for today, I made it to the gates exhausted with a trail of walkers behind me when a woman with dreads appeared at the gates
“Please let me in I need help….please I’m begging” I cried holding my belly seeing her eyes soften as she noticed my baby bump, she yanked open the gates right in time to let me in and shut it on the walkers
“Come on hun let’s get you cleaned up” she smiled leading me up to the prison, we almost made it inside when I heard the familiar grumble of the bike I use to ride on all the time, late at night when everyone in town was asleep Daryl would take me out roaming around
I turned my heart leaping every second that passed, until I knew for sure it was him, and it was I could recognize that hair anywhere, he parked the bike and looked around till his eyes landed on me, and he did something I’ve never seen him do before, he dropped to his knees crying
I wobbled over to him still in pain but I didn’t care, I dropped gently to my knees infront of him holding his face in my hands
“I can’t believe I found you Daryl, it’s really you” I weeped as took me shoulders and held me tight against his chest
“I looked for ya everywhere I swear I never gave up, that day when ya weren’t with anyone after the farm it felt like my life was over, but I knew ya were still out there, god I love ya”
“I love you too Daryl, so much”
“Sorry to interrupt this beautiful moment but your girl need some medical attention” that’s when Daryl noticed my busted eyebrow and all the blood over me
He picked me up in his arms bringing me inside to Hershel
“The hell happened to ya angel?” He asked as Hershel attended to my wounds
“I stepped on a nail and fell in just glad I didn’t land on the baby”
“Baby?” Daryl face drained of color standing there frozen
“You didn’t notice? I’m pregnant D” I said flattening down my shirt to make my belly more prominent
“I guess I was just to stunned”
“You seem a lot more healthier than the Lori, how did you manage?” Hershel asked as Daryl came to sit by me squeezing my hand, something he did when he was anxious
“I found a fully stocked house, only just ran out of food today”
“I’d say you’re pretty lucky lil lady, now I’ll give you two some space”
Daryl looked at me with such love mixed with worry
“I can’t believe yer pregnant and it’s mine?” He asked gently rubbing the bump feeling the baby kick
“Of course it’s yours D, you know I’ve only ever been with you, I’ll only ever want you”
“I’ll keep ya both safe, I’ll give ya that dream life ya wanted fer us, I promise”
“I just need you Daryl, I just want you”
#twd fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#twd x reader#daryl dixon#twd fluff#daryl dixon x reader#twd negan#twd rick#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixion smut#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n
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Letting Someone Go - Part 5 (The End!)
Benny Cross X Female Reader part 1 is here! part 2 is here! part 3 is here! part 4 is here! A/n: ahhh it's always so hard to write a satisfying ending. i rlly hope you enjoy it, and i want to thank everyone for reading this series!! i am officially taking Bikeriders requests, so if this story got your mind thinking about what other Benny/Vandals boys content you'd like, feel free to send it my way! Word Count: 3683 Warnings: none for this chapter
You woke up the next morning with a split lip, a black eye, and a hangover. Before even opening your eyes, you knew you were back at Zipco’s house based on the strong Patchouli-incense-over-bourbon smell. Not on the lumpy couch though - you were in his bed. You opened one eye and instantly regretted it: the world started to spin and you barely managed to grab at the wastebasket someone had left by the bedside before you emptied your stomach. You wretched until there was nothing left to come up, just bile and bloody spit. Unwilling to test your vertigo by standing up and walking down the hall to the bathroom, you called out for Zipco in a watery-thin rasp.
“Zip?”
Silence. It seemed like the house was empty. Zipco was many things, but a quiet housemate was not among them. Wherever he went, he was slamming doors, knocking furniture, thumping on the rickety floorboards.
“Zip ain’t here.”
The voice startled you and you whipped your head around - another immediate regret, as it renewed your nausea. Benny was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette and watching you closely. He must have slept here, you realized, as you took in the wrinkled tshirt stained with your mascara and blood and his mussed hair.
“Where’s Zip?” you groaned, shutting your eyes in a vain attempt to stop the spinning.
Benny stood up and walked out of the bedroom as he called back to you. “He took Kathy home. I asked him to stay with her for the night, keep an eye on things.”
Kathy. Last night. The memory of that awful night came back to you hard and with a vengeance. You whimpered, pressing your face down on the pillow as if you could blot it out. From down the hall, you heard the sound of Benny rummaging around in the kitchen for a few moments. You willed yourself to focus on that noise and breathe deeply through your nose and out through your mouth.
You felt the mattress give under his weight as he came back and perched on the edge of the bed. “Here.” He handed you a bag of ice, coaxing you to lift your head and place the ice against your swollen lip. He brushed back strands of your hair out of your face with a tenderness you’d never seen from him before.
“Thank you,” you croaked, voice cracking. “For last night. Helping me. For everything.”
He nodded softly and offered you a cup of water. “Try to drink it,” he encouraged. You obeyed, wincing at the bad taste in your mouth and the soreness in your throat as you swallowed. The water settled in your stomach with a cooling rush, and it helped lessen your headache marginally. Benny just kept sitting there, fussing over you like a nursemaid. It was achingly touching, but surprising and strangely intimate. After a few moments, you cleared your throat and forced yourself to sit upright, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to set off the spins again. He helped you prop yourself up against the headboard, one of Zip’s pillows tucked at the small of your back.
“How’s Kathy?” Why you asked that question was anyone’s guess. You were grasping at straws, overwhelmed by Benny’s presence and his assiduous attention to you. You couldn’t care less how Kathy was doing, and you knew you were risking the moment between you two - whatever it was - by bringing her up.
Predictably, Benny’s face crumpled from concern to something harder. He held your gaze with a wary seriousness. “You really wanna know how my wife is right now?”
Wife.
You pursed your lips - bad move, you felt the split open up and fresh blood coat your tongue - and looked down at the water glass in your hand so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes. You hadn’t known Kathy was that to him. You’d never really considered the possibility. Four years is a hell of a long time, a reprimanding voice in your head reminded you. What did you expect?
Why didn’t the guys tell you? A flash of anger at Zipco and Cal and Johnny flared in your chest. It was irrational, you knew, and a displacement of your real pain. The anger fizzled out as quickly as it had come up, leaving you alone with a sinking grief.
Benny must have noticed your reaction. “You didn’t know.” Not a question, an observation. One he must have suspected because you heard the sound of confirmation in his voice. His words didn’t sound unkind, although there was an edge of pity there that you hated. Unable to meet his eyes, you simply shook your head.
“I figured one of the guys told you.”
“Yea, I would’ve figured that too.”
You ran a finger along the lip of the water glass. Anything for a distraction. A thick silence that threatened to bloom into something permanent settled between you.
“Congrats,” you managed with a small, bitter laugh. “How long?”
Benny turned away from you, bracing his hands on his knees and looking at the wall. “Y/n, don’t do this.”
“Do what?” you demanded, embarrassment staining your cheeks. Not only had he just dropped this hundred pound disappointment on you, but now he expected you not to struggle with its weight?
“Hurt yourself,” he replied sadly, turning back to you. His eyes drank you in and caused your breath to tangle in your throat. Once again, you couldn’t hold his gaze, and let your eyes drop to your hands. You knocked that one set of your knuckles were scraped and bruised, and a snippet of memory - men dragging you up a stairwell, you thrashing against them and screaming out for help - smacked you like a freight train. The sob that bubbled in your lungs refused to be stifled.
At the sound of it, Benny stiffened. “I’m sorry. I should’ve left. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’ll go, send Zip back over.”
You looked back up at him and found you could look through him. Talking to the wall behind Benny, you felt your mouth moving as words came pouring out before you fully knew what you wanted to say. “Aight then, Benny, you best get your stuff and get out, then.”
It was the exact same line you’d said to him four years ago when he’d made you tell yourself that he was in love with someone else. Unlike then, this time your words dripped with poison.
He flinched slightly at your words, and you figured that was about as much as you could hope for. Benny Cross was many things, but he would never be the kind of guy who would collapse for a woman. Especially not one that he didn’t love.
For a heartbeat or two, he looked at you while you looked through him. It was a test. Who would break first. Both of you knew the answer. Benny was incapable of breaking. You’d been craving that from him for too long and had been disappointed too many times before to delude yourself now. Benny was going to leave, exactly like you’d told him to. He wasn’t going to argue, or apologize, or ask why you were angry, or stubbornly ignore your dismissal in an attempt to get through to you. He was going to leave because that’s what he did. Although not with Kathy, that vicious inner voice reminded you. Just you.
Right on cue, Benny broke eye contact, hesitating momentarily before standing up from the edge of the bed. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the chair he’d been sitting in, picked up his leather jacket and threw it on over his shoulders. The icy shell around your heart threatened to thaw as the realization that this might be the last moment you ever saw him overtook you.
He moved to leave without looking back to you, although he did stop at the door.
“Why’d you come back?” he asked, his voice low and full of something approaching emotion.
“For Brucie’s funeral,” you replied robotically.
You both knew it was a lie. Benny waited, turning slightly so his body was angled towards you, but still not looking up at you.
“What do you want me to say, Benny? That I came back for you? That I stayed away for so long because of you? You already know all that shit.”
He fidgeted with his leather riding gloves methodically, tucking them into the sleeves of his jacket. You’d never known Benny to care about stuff like that. You had the fleeting thought that he was stalling against what you both sensed would be your last goodbye.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled heavily. “I’m sorry for everything.”
And with that, Benny vanished once again from your life, leaving behind that all too familiar ache like a gaping hole in your chest.
***********************
Benny was riding back to Kathy’s apartment when he realized that he didn’t want to. The last thing he wanted was to get an earful from Kathy, although he knew precisely that’s what was waiting for him. An earful for getting involved in another fight over the club, for getting involved with you, and for leaving her behind. He deserved it, but he didn’t want it.
He also didn’t want to turn around and back towards the girl he’d just left, with her face busted up and her spirit broken. All because she’d come back hoping for something from him. All she was going to get was disappointment. That’s all Benny had for anybody else. He’d disappointed Kathy by not being a good husband. He’d disappointed Johnny by not being a good Vandal, not being willing to take over the charter. And he’d disappointed y/n simply by not being good. Most of all, Benny was his own biggest disappointment. He realized, sitting on the back of his bike idling at a light that had long ago turned from red to green, that he wasn’t sure what he’d imagined for his life, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. It wasn’t watching the people around you get hurt, time and time again, all behind your own failures.
So, instead of turning left on 53rd St. to head home, Benny kept going straight on 55th until it linked up with Rte 34 in Naperville. He gassed up in Wyanet and didn’t stop until he hit the Nebraska line. Benny rode west until he got tired of staring at sunsets, and then turned north, meandering up into colder country.
Epilogue
At first, the running theory about what happened was that one of the guys from the night before had found Benny, somehow, on the way back from Zipco’s place and jumped him. Beat the shit out of him, took his bike, dumped him on the side of a road somewhere. Maybe even killed him. But, as weeks turned into months without any news and without a body, a different understanding took hold: Benny Cross had simply left.
Kathy stuck around but drifted steadily further away from the MC. She stopped showing up to Junker’s on Friday nights, stopped hanging out at the Vandals’ house parties, stopped asking Johnny if he’d heard from Benny. You saw her a few times in the years after Benny left, usually at the laundromat or the corner store, somewhere neutral. She never acknowledged you, and you figured that was probably the smart thing to do. There weren’t any words the two of you could exchange that would do anything for either of you. Better just to let sleeping dogs lie. At some point, you saw Kathy Cross for the last time, although you didn’t know it would be the last. Word reached the MC that she’d met some wealthy Cincinnati lawyer in a pop shop and had moved in with him a few weeks later, into some swanky highrise overlooking the Ohio River. You had a suspicion that Kathy’s days of logging time on the back of a bike were over.
While Kathy exited the Vandals’ scene, you found yourself quickly at the center of the club. You and Zipco decided after a few months that you made great friends, but shit roommates. You moved into your own place a few blocks down from Junker’s and opened a body shop for bikes with the money your daddy left you in the will. Your first employee was Cal, and your first customer was Johnny. From that day forward, the Vandals MC kept your business buzzing and your books balanced. You named the shop Cross Roads Bikes. Customers who didn’t know you asked why “cross roads” was two separate words; usually, you just told them that you’d been drunk when you filled out the business license application and had put a space in there by accident. Customers who knew you didn’t need to ask what happened.
In spite of that, somewhere along the way you woke up one day and realized that this was the closest you’d been to happy in a long long time, maybe ever. It struck you as strange, because since the day you’d met him, you’d only seen happiness as part of your future if Benny was in it. Yet, here you were: happy (ish) and Benny-less. Funny how the world works.
You didn’t know why Benny took off or where he’d gone, but you did know one thing: Benny broke three hearts the day he left McCook. Johnny took Benny’s absence harder than the woman who married him and the woman who loved him. Johnny changed the day Benny left. He seemed to age two days for every one that passed. His laughter dried up and his leadership got sour. Between Cal, Zipco, and a few of the other old guard, the Vandals held themselves together, but everyone could see that the winds of change were brewing, and the MC was on the edge of a permanent change. All that was left to do was to hold your breath and wait.
You were with Johnny Davis the day he died. You remembered the way that young kid had shot him, point blank, in some old abandoned parking lot on the western edge of town. All the light was gone from Johnny’s eyes by the time you reached him. The Vandals you knew died with him in that weedy parking lot that night.
Zipco left about a month later for Texas. He sent you a few postcards, called you a couple times. After a while, there wasn’t anything left to say. You never stopped sending him his favorite bottle of bourbon at Christmas. Every once in a while, a customer would come in from out of town and tell you that your shop was personally recommended to them by a drunk, grouchy old Latvian who worked on a shrimping boat outside of Corpus Christi.
One by one, the new Vandals stopped coming into your shop for their repairs and tune-ups. That was fine with you. You didn’t recognize any of the newcomers, and you doubted they recognized you, apart from vague memories of seeing you drinking and laughing in Junker’s next to the guys that they considered to be the past. Cross Roads Bikes was about four years old at that point, and you’d built enough of a non-MC customer base to survive the turnover. The day Cal came in and told you he’d turned in his patch and was planning to head back out to California, you knew that your last tie with the club had been cut. In some ways, it was relieving, in other ways, terrifying. You and Cal got shitfaced together that night and told old war stories about all the guys you’d known and lost. You cried like a baby when, two weeks later, you were standing on the sidewalk, watching Cal’s taillight fade into the Illinois dark as he headed out to the West Coast for the next chapter of his life.
Much to your surprise, it was Sheila and Becky, Johnny’s widow, who became your new club. They took to bringing you sandwiches at the shop and sitting on the counter with you for lunch breaks, telling the did you hear? kind of stories that bond people with a loose circle of mutual acquaintances together. It was easy and fun and all three of you seemed to know that this was it. If you all let yourselves drift away, who was going to tell stories about the guys you’d all known? About the Vandals’ early days, the glory days? You three were all that was left. Ironic, you thought. A men’s club, survived by three women.
Your life fell into a pattern. Productive, purposeful, content with little stains of sadness at the edges. But mostly, a good life. You were happy, and getting used to it every day. At some point, your life became predictable.
That’s why, one crisp fall morning as you stumbled out of bed at 6:00am to the waiting pot of Zipco-strong coffee and the stack of yesterday’s mail on the counter, the last thing you were expecting to see was the outline of a man sitting on your front porch steps. The black leather jacket with an original Vandals patch on the back, the Harley parked across the street, the tousled blonde hair. It was a ghost of a memory.
You opened the front door a crack and looked down on the profile of Benny Cross. He was looking up at the neon Cross Roads Bike sign that Johnny and the rest of the club had gifted to you for your one-year anniversary at the shop. When he looked up at you with those same old blue eyes, it was like stepping into a dream.
“Hey.”
You closed the door behind you, offering him your mug of coffee as you wrapped your robe around you against the chill. “Hey.”
He scooched over to make room for you to join him. You did, tucking your knees up against your chest for warmth. The cold concrete of your porch steps bit into your backside.
“Looks good,” Benny commented softly, gesturing up at the Cross Roads sign. The text was superimposed over an image of a motorcycle - an all-black 1965 Harley Electra-Glide, to be exact. The same bike that happened to be sitting across the street from you, where Benny had parked it.
“Yea, yea,” you agreed gently, looking up at the sign with a sad smile. “Hope you don’t mind, I stole your bike. And your name.”
When you looked back at Benny, a half-smirk was spreading across his face. He looked the same, although you could see that the road had been riding him just as much as the other way around. You knew that life.
The two of you sat in silence for a while, sharing the same cup of coffee and a cigarette, letting the sun rise above the rooftops across the street. It was a comfortable, companionable quiet. It was the first time since you’d met Benny that you didn’t have the burning desire to try and put your feelings into words. After almost ten years of your heart orbiting his, you realized in the cold November morning that you had finally learned how to let him go. It was a bittersweet feeling, and you knew you’d never be able to put it into words, even if you tried. So the two of you were quiet together.
When the city began to wake up around you and the demands of another day couldn’t be ignored any longer, you rose from your seat - cursing the way the cold made your hips stiff - and offered him a hand to help him up. He took it, thick calluses on his palm from years of riding. He stood up, still tall enough to tower over you, his jacket thick with the smell of the road - leather, diesel fuel, sweat, and cigarettes.
“How long you in town for?” you asked as you held the door open for him behind you. He followed you in, kicking off his dirty boots at the door.
“Not sure,” he replied with a note of nervousness. “Depends on how long you’ll let me stay.”
You smiled to yourself, your back turned to him as you refilled your coffee mug and poured a fresh one for him.
“I got plenty of room, and plenty of work for ya, Benny. Long as you promise that you won’t leave without sayin’ goodbye this time.” He accepted the coffee in your outstretched hand with a heartbreakers’ smile.
“Funny you mention it. I hadn’t planned on leavin’ this time.” He looked at you with a question in his eyes. You weren’t entirely sure what the question was. Do you forgive me? Is this ok? Are you alright? Did you miss me?
Whatever he was asking, your answer was yes. A very simple word, and easily one you could have said. But, just like moments before, you found that words just wouldn’t suffice, even such a simple one.
So you crossed the kitchen, dropping your coffee mug and letting it splinter into pieces on the tile floor, splashing hot coffee on your ankles, and wrapped your arms around him. Benny’s mouth tasted exactly how you remembered, and when he folded his arms around you, you swore your feet no longer touched the ground. He was warm and strong against you, and for every question he pressed through that kiss into your lips, you answered with an enthusiastic yes.
As you floated away into the sky towards what you’d heard others call “cloud nine” from your kitchen, the rest of the words of that old poem came drifting back to you:
Of all the things that can create, love is the one I most appreciate.
One thing I’ve come to know, nothing kills you slower than letting someone go.
But I will also tell you this, coming back to life can happen in the space of a single kiss.
***********************
Taglist: @real-lana-del-rey @putherup @dontcrydaddy @gilli-vanilli @faephoria @summer56 @seresinhangmanjake @patrycqv @rose-deathman @bellesdreamyprofile @imusicaddict @bruher @ripvanwinklee @meninecanela @enchantedinfinity @landlockedmermaid77 @nctma15 @hearts444emily @kajasagmo @1800imgay @oh-you-mean-me @allie-jay @suspicious-stain-in-spain
#bikeriders imagine#the bikeriders imagine#bikeriders#benny cross x y/n#benny cross x reader#benny cross imagine#benny cross#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x you#austin butler x reader#austin butler imagine#benny cross x you
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I took one for the team and retraumatized myself by reading Sylus' myth again, specifically to understand the memory, Abyssal Blossom, since... there is a bit of confusion about what it means, and I made a reference to it in this post. I'll be covering the event leading up to the memory and the aftermath.
@unluckywisher @lavlynyan I have some distressing news 😔😔😔
SPOILERS FOR SYLUS' MYTH - BEYOND CLOUDFALL, CHAPTERS 6-8 + ABYSSAL BLOSSOM MEMORY
[Quick recap of end of chapter 6] Sylus had been injured by MC after succumbing to his instincts and attacking her in The Sanctuary, causing her to act in self-defense and unwittingly summoning the greatsword. They're both horrified by their actions, and as soldiers arrive, MC hides Sylus from them. Sylus isn't even fazed by his injuries. He is more horrified that the curse almost came true and he almost killed her. He flies away to Tarus City.
CHAPTER 7
Words spread that the Fiend is gravely injured, so every single opportunist is hunting Sylus down, hoping to be the one to make the kill
MC hides among the crowd to search for him, and eventually, she recalls the blind merchant's information that "The Fiend and his destined archnemesis will meet at a black chapel".
MC finds Sylus there gravely injured and barely conscious.
As she tries to stop his bleeding, he awakens and tries to attack her, still under the influence. MC does manage to get through to him.


At this point, though, the voice in MC's head is also urging her to kill him and devour him. Sylus awakens and taunts her about their destiny, to which she rejects vehemently.
They both confront one another about why 1) Sylus saved MC from the Abyss in the beginning even though he knew they were destined to kill one another 2) Sylus questions MC why she didn't kill him earlier. They both know the answers.


MC rejects her destiny and declares that she will save him instead. She starts to resonate with him and heal his wound.
Sylus: Save me? Are you aware of the cost? Once we hold hands now, our lives will be bound together, along with our deaths. We must offer half of our soul to the other. They'll be merged... to forge an unbreakable bond. To share your life with a fiend—it might be a punishment worse than having your soul devoured. Will you truly not regret it? MC: I said I'Il live, didn't I? No matter the cost. If following our hearts is a sin, then you and I must be the last of our kind in this world. Sylus: In that case.. Stay by my side until the end of time.
They fall asleep in the chapel—in each other's embrace with Sylus shielding them from the cold with one of his wings.
CHAPTER 8



This is where it gets a little murky about what is reality, a memory, or a fantasy. Unfortunately, I am going to be leaning towards Abyssal Blossom is a fantasy MC made up to cope with the guilt and pain of Sylus being gravely injured because of her as well as the trauma of their fated demise. (Note: Sylus is not dead in this scene) [ETA: This scene is also the dream main story MC has in Continuous Symphony.]
The next scene is exactly that. A fantasy. She imagines she and Sylus decorating the chapel and making it more homey. She even presents Sylus with a present: a flower crown she had made after gathering the few flowers available in Tarus City.
Sylus: So you stayed up late these past few nights to make this? MC: ...You didn't sleep either? Sylus: Do you like flowers? MC: Yes, I guess. But there aren't a lot in Tarus City. I had to scour the entire woods to get this much. Sylus: The forest barely has any flowers. MC: What do you mean— Sylus: Hold on tight. [Sylus carries her and flies away. Abyssal Blossom kindled scene begins.]
As this is continuing from the scene MC fantasizes about making the chapel a home, unfortunately, it does point to Abyssal Blossom as being a fantasy as well.



In the end, MC herself does acknowledge that this was indeed a fantasy.


As MC is kept imprisoned in the courtyard of the Sanctuary, Sylus occasionally visits her. She notices his injuries are healing.
When she asks Sylus why he didn't wake her all the other nights she fell asleep waiting for him, he reveals this:


Once again, this seems to point at Abyssal Blossom as being nothing more than a dream MC had.
MC also counters and questions if Sylus had ever dreamt of her. They banter back and forth a little bit, before MC switches the conversation.
MC: Since you've taken half of my soul…Even if the world turns its back on you, I'll always stand by your side. You're not even allowed to think about leaving me. Sylus: All right.
MC says they should make a pinky promise: To never betray each other.



In conclusion: FUCK DESTINY. FUCK THE STUPID CURSE. AND ALSO FUCK THAT CUNT THE SACRED JUDICATOR. I'm gonna go cry myself to sleep now. Good night 😔
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lnds ramblings#lnds recap#lnds analysis#lads — beyond cloudfall#lads — abyssal blossom#lnds spoilers#lads spoilers#videos#this took me like three hours to write#if anything messed up i don't want to hear it#😔😔😔😔😔#abyssal blossom was supposed to heal me why the writers do that#💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
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Part 7: In All My Victories
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14
Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)
(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy
Words: 6.5K
TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships
A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3
March 2033
Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage.
It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige.
Azzi had asked her to stay over.
Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away.
And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept.
Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day.
It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again.
She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other.
Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him.
“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman.
“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”
Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”
“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”
She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead.
“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”
Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”
“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”
“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline.
“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”
Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”
“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream
“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”
Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight.
“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”
“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”
“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”
Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?”
Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.
And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”
“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”
Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”
“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles.
Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”
“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”
“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”
Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”
“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”
Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”
Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”
***
Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like.
“Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”
“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”
Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her.
“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child.
Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”
“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same.
“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”
“That obvious?” Paige blushes.
Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”
Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now.
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”
Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”
“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose.
“Peanut butter?”
“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.
“Salted caramel crunch?”
“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies.
“Stephie?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want me to get you one of each?”
And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face.
“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight.
“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”
Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”
Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”
“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”
And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”
***
“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household.
“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek.
“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”
“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth.
Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”
“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”
Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”
“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”
“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly.
Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”
“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare.
“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand.
“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee.
“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”
“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly.
“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”
“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”
They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe.
They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look.
“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?”
“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”
“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’
“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige.
“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”
“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands.
“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently.
And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”
“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”
Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”
“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen.
“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”
“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.
“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place.
“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”
Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”
“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”
“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly.
“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”
“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”
“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”
“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth.
“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah.
“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation.
Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”
“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs.
“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”
Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”
“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”
Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin.
“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other.
“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”
“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”
Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.
“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”
Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”
“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”
***
August 2028
USA 68 France 64
The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries, had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound.
The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock.
And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in.
But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again.
“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue.
Azzi.
Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us.
Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face.
“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”
“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”
“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin.
“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”
This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them.
“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”
Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”
“Olivia,” Paige hisses.
“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”
Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”
***
The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell.
“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife.
“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly.
“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”
“You’re the one who poked her first-”
“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”
“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests.
“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”
“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”
“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes.
“What-”
“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”
“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.
“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”
Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place.
And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again.
***
USA 102 Australia 73
Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you.
Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too.
But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here.
Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings.
The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal.
Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.
As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too.
“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”
Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”
“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”
And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.
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awkward
I know you hurt me, but (hey) This is more than a friendship
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
Iwaizumi Hajime x F!reader
Tw! Smut(ty-ish), mutual pining, being used (or so reader thinks)
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
synopsis ; Hajime heard rumors about you, and since you were his close friend from childhood, he obviously has to go out of his way to see if they're true.
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
it's your third year and obviously that means rumors are still being spread by any and everyone who enjoys gossip.
this time the rumor was about you.
"She's been with over 5 of the guys on the volleyball team"
"She's had 15 boyfriends from what I heard."
A bunch of bullshit really.
You had never been with anyone.
At least that's what your life long friend Hajime had thought.
But now that he's thinking, the past year you've been really strange and distant.
Disappearing and reappearing at odd hours of the night, to strange locations.
Hajime only knows this because he has your location, naturally, he's your best friend, he's got to watch out for you however he can.
At least that's how he explained why he needed your location to you anyways.
You on the other hand, had found an interest in photographing run-down and nearly abandoned parts of your home town.
Sneaking around at 2:30 in the morning made it easier to get into these odd, sleazy places.
That was until a few weeks ago when a group of boys from the school caught you walking around a risqué club chatting with a few older men who you knew from your first year when they were third years.
And that's how you ended up in this situation.
4 large men towered over you, spouting off a jumble of questions.
“How come sawaka says he saw you mingling up with some shifty old guys at a strip joint?”
The tall dark haired boy, issei, asks. His arms are crossed and hes giving you a near parental eyebrow raise.
“W-what?” You stutter out. Genuine confusion on your face.
“You heard him! Now answer!” The tone of oikawas voice almost sounds like a whine from a child more than a demand.
“Gah! You guys dont control me!” You gather up your things and stand.
“And just where do you think youre going?” Makki now opens his mouth, but you know hes just antagonizing the situation, he probably couldnt care less about whatever you got up to in your own time.
“Away! Forever!” You say dramatically, leaving the classroom to enjoy your lunch elsewhere.
That night your phone rings, around 12:30 am.
Your eyes look up from your notebook that youd been doodling in for the past 4 hours.
Answering it a gruff voice speaks out
‘Can i come over? We need to talk.’
Iwaizumi seems upset.
‘Yeah of course, ill meet you down the street.’
10 minutes role by and you make it to the little park down the street from your house, just as Iwaizumi arrives.
He looks good, he’s starting to fill out and looks more manly than ever.
“Hey…??” You say in a questioning manner. You couldnt tell how he was feeling right now and then pit in your stomach was growing ever since he said those words.
“Your parents are still out of town?” He asks making his way past you to start the walk back towards your home.
“Yeah, for another 5 days i think? Who knows.. hah..”
Smooth, jackass, real smooth.
“Ah! Thats lame, i dont know how you stay home alone all the time like that.”
The mood lightens a bit with his goofy tone coming out slightly.
Hajime had always been the more serious one out of the two of you but that was never the case when it actually came down to being just the two of you.
He always was cracking jokes and acting like a fool, just to get a smile from you.
“Yeah, me either, i just stay up in my room now, i guess.”
“Seems boring.”
“Eh.” You shrug your shoulders, unlocking your front door.
You two make your way up to your room, not before raiding the kitchen for snacks and drinks first though.
This felt normal.
Like old times.
You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you two had hungout like this.
Over the past year you had drifted away from him, only because you couldnt help yourself.
Your once innocent thoughts about the boy youd grown up with had started becoming more and more…colorful.
The way his hands looked when writing, all the years of volleyball had definitely done good things for the man.
His arms were veiny as well as his hands.
His shoulders were broad and made him looks 10 xs more masculine than he already did.
Not to mention his voice had significantly dropped and his voice cracks had almost completely disappeared.
He was becoming a man and you were becoming a woman. And women have needs.
So instead of being selfish you separated yourself from him.
“So, you wanted to talk?” You ask, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth, sitting crisscrossed facing him on your bed.
He shifted to sit criss cross to face you now.
“Yeah, about the stuff going around school. You know, the things people are saying about you.”
“What about it? Its not true. If thats what youre wondering.”
“I mean- i didnt think so but…” you cut him off before he can say anything else.
“But you just had to figure it out for yourself?”
You knew him too well.
You saw something in him shift, a sudden energy overtook the room, one you hadn't experienced before.
He looked at you, "Yeah. You could say something like that."
"What do you mean?"
The way he looked back up at you after you had asked that sent a warm heat through your body.
"I mean, I've seen your location, why are you running around dirty parts of the city in the middle of the night? Are you really down there...doing things?" He seemed upset for second but then became stern again.
"Things? Like what? Partying?"
"I guess."
"No.," you sigh rolling your eyes as you lift yourself off the bed, reaching for your laptop. "I've been doing photography of the nightlife and shit."
He takes the laptop from you when you offer it to him, clicking through the hundreds of photos you'd accumulated over the past year.
After a bit of silence he speaks up.
"Wow, y/n, these are," he looks up at you and gives you a huge smile. "amazing! Holy shit dude! Why didnt you tell anyone about this?”
“Because i wanted it to be my own thing that i do for myself.”
He hands you back your laptop and you close it moving to set it on your desk.
A sudden change in energy yet again settles around your room.
Hajime is looking at his hands fiddling with his thumb and index finger, youre re-situating yourself on your bed when you look back up at him.
You know third year is coming to an end, which means he’s going to California soon.
You open your mouth to speak to him.
“I got into UCLA.” You say confidently.
He now looks up at you eyes wide.
“What?” He asks, wondering if maybe he misunderstood.
“I couldnt just let you go to the US without me. That wouldnt be fair y’know!”
He lifts off his side of your bed and tackles you down in a hug.
Positioning himself to hover above you now he has a giant grin on his face.
One only youve ever seen, hes goofy, and totally a sports nerd, well mannered, and sweet. This is a side of him only youve ever gotten.
“Youre not pulling my leg are you?” He give you a near-disappointed face.
“No. Im serious.”
“Ok.,” His eyebrows furrow and he turns his head for a second, a blush spreading on his face, with a huff he looks back at you. “Im…im glad youre coming. And im glad youre not out partying and getting with other guys.” He looks more serious than before.
“Other guys?” You raise a brow at him.
His face gets even redder than before.
“Well, yeah. I just figured you knew that i liked you….”
“You just ‘figured’ that i knew that you, hajime, liked me, y/n? And how exactly would i have figured that out?”
He rolls off of you now laying next you looking at your ceiling.
You’re nervous. He likes you? The guy that you’ve spent your entire life with like you…back?
“I dont know. The guys said it was obvious so there was no way you didnt know.”
You give him a blank stare into the side of his head.
“You are the biggest idiot i have ever met.”
He now looks at you, you can see him visibly shrink in on himself.
A few moments go by and you turn your head back to look at the ceiling.
“I love you.”
He sits up turning to look at you laying down.
“I love you.”
You sit up and your guys faces are so close you can see the faint scars on his face from all the roughhousing over the years.
Hes looking at you blankly, unable to comprehend that you might actually love him.
You roll your eyes at him. Knowing exactly how hes reeling in his own head.
“Im not lying, i love you.”
He gives you a raised brow.
You huff and lean in closing the distance.
He kisses you back, his hands snaking up around you, under your tshirt.
Hajime had been with a few girls before. He had told you about it, obviously.
Honestly you shouldve been more upset at the fact he was being a total hypocrite right now.
Things had heated up, he was between your legs, caging you beneath him, you had your hands in his hair, holding his lips to yours.
He was grinding up against you, you were moaning into his mouth.
Next thing you knew he was ripping your clothes off and you were pulling his off of him.
He ran himself over your wetness and let out a groan.
Pushing himself into you, you let out a loud gasp at the sudden splitting feeling.
He kissed your jaw whispering in your ear.
“You ok?”
You moaned and rolled your hips forward a bit, to signal you wanted him to move.
He began moving back and forth, slowly at first, until you begged him to go faster.
Soon he had your leg up on his shoulder and was leaning over you, leaving kisses down your jaw and neck.
“H-haji-,” he leaned up, not slowing his pace. “M’ gonna- m’gonna”
He threw his head back pulling your hips to match the pace of his thrusting, he was going deeper and harder than before, the knots were tightening in your abdomen.
“Do it.”
With that you let go, seeing fireworks fill your vision.
“F-fuck!” He pulled out cumming on your stomach.
He got up and retrieved a washcloth from your bathroom, cleaning you up.
Getting dressed again you laid back down, him in his boxers next to you.
But he was facing your wall. You felt a ping of hurt in your chest as you crawled back into your bed, where the boy you loved had just deflowered you.
“Haji-“ you spoked but stopped when you heard a soft snore leave his mouth. A sigh left your lips as you faced the other way and closed your eyes. Youd just talk to him in the morning.
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
Morning rolled around and you found yourself in the middle of your bed. Looking around you didnt see hajime or his things. You stood out of bed and looked to your clock.
5:45 am.
You grabbed your phone, opting to call him instead of search around for him.
No answer.
You thought back to the night before and felt sick to your stomach.
Maybe you messed everything up.
These thought filled your head all the way to school.
When you arrived in the classroom you saw him sitting at his desk. Right next to yours.
You made a slow approach towards your usual seat, eyeing him like he was some sort of monster that would spot you at the slightest movement.
Sitting down you finally turned towards him.
“Hey.” You said soft enough for him to hear it.
He looked at you then turned away quick. Not answering.
You looked down at your lap, where your fingers were twirling anxiously.
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
This act kept up for 3 whole weeks. Not one word said between you two.
This was becoming a problem for your mutual friends on the volleyball team.
You had stopped coming around to practices and ignoring the other boys. It was lowering the whole teams morale.
Finally oikawa had enough and cornered you against a corner with the other 2 boys.
“What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On.”
It wasnt a question. It was a demand.
“Nun ya.” You said crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.
Maki smacked the wall next to your head leaning down to make eye contact with you.
“Tell us now.” He was dead serious.
“Fine.,” you huffed looking away from them. “Hajimeandihadsex3weeksagoandheleftinthemiddleofthenightandhasbeenignoringmeeversince.”
“Woah-woah- you and haijime WHAT?!” Now mattsun spoke up shaking his head in disbelief.
“We had sex. And then he rolled over in my bed and went to sleep. And now hes ignoring me. And hasnt talked to me in 3 whole weeks.” You were looking at your shoes, tears had finally built up in your eyes.
Oikawa put his hand on your shoulder.
“Hey,” it was soft spoken, unusual from his normal behavior. “Hes a dick for that. You didnt deserve that.” He patted your back and motioned for the other two boys to follow him.
They made their way to Hajimes classroom telling him to come with them for an impromptu club meeting. He followed unknowingly.
They found themselves in the club room.
Hajime in a familiar position that you had been in by the same boys just a bit prior.
Oikawa, Maki, and Mattsuwaka had evil and dangerous looks on their faces. Hajime was scared.
Mattun spoke. “Whats your problem?”
Then oikawa through gritted teeth. “Youve got some explaining to do.”
And finally Maki, “How is it you bag the hottie whos our number one supporter and somehow you manage to fumble her?” Hes popping his knuckles in a threatening manner.
Iwaizumi gave a few dumbfounded blinks then spoke up.
“I uh-,” he was cut off by the three boys leaning over him more than they were before, closing out any light from the corner he was in. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I came really quick. And uh. Im embarrassed to talk to her.”
The three boys all exchanged glances before leaning back up.
Hajime leaned all the way back up as well.
Maki reached out and landed a hard punch to the cornered boys stomach.
“You fucking idiot!”
Oikawa now spoke, “you know, y/n thinks that you hate her? She was crying over it earlier!”
Mattsun pushed hajime towards the door.
“You better go fix this. Fucking dumbass.”
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
It was 8:30 pm.
Hajime knocked on your door, hoping your parents were off somewhere for work.
You answered the door.
Hajime took you in.
You had on a too large Tshirt he knew to be oikawas, one you had stolen a year prior, during a group sleepover at mattsuns.
Hajime remembered you had been baking cookies in the kitchen with the tall setter when he caked you in flour and eggs. In exchange he offered up his sleep shirt, feeling bad afterwards about the mess he made.
Looking down a pair of his own boxers sat on your hips. Folded down a few times so theyd fit you.
They mustve gotten mixed in your laundry at some point. Who knows.
“Haji! Hi!” You gave him a wide-eyed stare. Caught off guard by his sudden presence after weeks of missing him.
He looked at you then down at his feet, kicking a small rock he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking back up to you he spoke.
“Im really fucking sorry y/n.”
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
You had only seen him like this twice in your entire life.
Once when he and oikawa broke your brand new guitar that you spent a whole summer babysitting and doing odd jobs to save money for.
Hes still doing chores for his mom to this day to pay off the debt of buying you a new one.
The second time was 2 summers ago when you and the other volleyball team members went camping for a summer bonding trip.
Oikawa and hajime were sitting next to you rough housing when the black haired boys elbow flew back and hit you square in the nose.
A quick *crack* sounded on impact.
He slowly turned his head to look at you, blood rushing down your face from your nose, your nose was already purple and crooked to one side.
“Holy shit. Holy shit, holyshit. Holyshitholyshit.” You panicked.
The other team members gathered around you, unsure what to do.
“We… we need to go to the hospital.” Hajime spoke up.
“You fucking broke my nose!” You were crying, trying not to touch your nose.
“Oh fuck!” Oikawa now said bring everyone back to earth.
With a rush you were in a coaches car with haijme holding you stroking your hair.
“Im sorry” was all he said to you for the 30 minute drive.
He never lived that down. But you werent too mad.
You got a free nose job and hes still paying off his debt for breaking your nose.
✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
“Wha-“ you were cut off by him speaking again.
“I really really fucked up y/n. And im so sorry. I love you and i was embarrassed and didnt know what to do.”
“Not ignore me, maybe?” You huffed now annoyed.
“I know. Im sorry.,” he looked around then straight abck at you, now straightening his posture. “I love you too.”
You blinked a few times then began shutting the door.
He stopped you with his foot.
“Wait!”
You groaned loudly then reopened it.
“What? You really hurt my feelings and now you just want me to be like ‘oh ok, cool youre embarrassed you fucked me’ and move on?”
“No! I- i want to explain myself.”
You leaned against the door and rolled your eyes. “Fine.”
“I uh, i camereallyfastandthiughtyoudhatemeandbeembarrassediwasyourfirsttime.”
You now stood completely infront of him.
Your eyes yet again wide in surprise.
“So you ignored me because you came quick?”
He was now giving you the same dumb look you had just given him.
“Yeah.” It was quiet. Like a scolded child.
“So what? I came too, i dont know how all this sex stuff works exactly but i think were even.” You now had an eyebrow quirked up at him.
“Oh…”
“Yeah ‘oh’ you ignored me for 3 weeks because you came quick or whatever you just said.”
He now looked extremely embarrassed.
“How are you going to make it up to me?” You asked.
“Uhm,” he stood there thinking for a second. “How about a date? Tomorrow? 7pm? Wear something nice?”
You felt a smile grow on your face.
“Sounds good.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Masterlist
#haikyuu#x reader#haikyuu x reader#fanfic#hq fanfic#hq fluff#hq x you#hq smut#hq angst#haikyuu smut#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi haijime x reader#seijoh#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#haikyuu oikawa#mattsun
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Yandere! Rich Suitor
(part 2!)
When you arrived at the remote island your parents had sent you off to you expected nothing out of the ordinary.
You and Andrew would spend a month or two there at some expensive resort or already owned house of either of your parents, you'd squabble with him from whatever topic came up in your conversations, and then you'd part ways at the end of the trip with no differing thoughts of each other. Same as always.
Oh how wrong you were.
-
"Y'know, you have pretty eyes."
You stared at Andrews light eyelashes with his hazel, almost green eyes. You never looked too hard but the purple ambient light of the bar you two were in only added to his features.
You were both drunk out of your minds and the bar was only 15 minutes to close, around 3 am if you had to guess.
"I could say the same to you," Andrew slurred while holding an empty glass of whatever liquor he had just finished off. He rested his head on the wooden bar and stared at the empty glass, then back to your face that was propped on your hand.
Bam!
You didn't even notice your face planting onto the counter, the sound didn't even faze Andrew who stared at your hair.
He reached out to touch it.
Surprisingly, you didn't flinch. Normally when you both were sober, maybe it was the liquor that stopped you from slapping his hand away but touching each other was deemed one of the most horrible acts to commit, but right now all he wished was to be closer to you.
He played with the loose strand of hair and you turned your head to face him.
With how close your faces were to each other, you were surprised how long you two had gone without arguing with each other.
"Can we go home," you mumbled while staring into Andrews glazed over eyes.
He nodded and slowly sat up straight, letting go of the small strand of hair.
You both stumbled out of the bar, with him fishing for a cellphone in your purse while you leaned on him for any type of support.
You managed to pick your head up and look at his flushed face. The neon glow of the bar lights illuminated his blond hair and the way his pretty eyes starred off into nothing was way more enticing than it should be. You stared long and hard for what seemed like forever.
Then you did something you never ever thought possible.
"Andrew."
"Yes?" Andrew replied while looking down at your (for once) soft gaze.
You grabbed his face with both your hands and planted your lips onto his. His lips were soft but slightly chapped, and he tasted like vodka and something else you couldn't put your finger on.
You still don't know why you did it, but all you remember after that was blacking out and waking up in the resorts bed the next morning, with a pounding headache and a sore neck.
-
"You're not leaving."
You had never been scared of Andrew per say. Yeah you've been angered by him, very annoyed recently and at worst wanting to rid him of this Earth.
But never scared, it made sense to not be scared in your childhood and early teenage years, and maybe it was pushing it when he started to put in muscle and grow taller; but you never had a reason to fear him.
Until now at least.
'Stay calm stay calm stay calm'
You repeated the phrase in your mind until you could find the words to hopefully get Andrew to stop acting insane.
"Andrew, look, I know what happened between us last night was weird but I'm sorry I wasn't trying to lead you on, but please just stop."
"Just stay here for a while, I know I haven't been exactly pleasant towards you, but please give me a chance," he muttered into your shoulder while softly playing with a strand of your hair.
You took in a deep breath to try and stop yourself from clawing his face off.
That would only make things worse considering he could easily overpower you, you shuddered at the thought of him going even further than he already had.
"Okay, I'll stay-just- please back away for a minute," you exhaled and let your hand leave the door knob despite every part of your body wanting to yank on it until it broke off or the door opened. Andrew seemed to relax a tiny bit at your words before slowly letting his arms unwrap themselves around you and instead back away. You didn't know if you could outrun him, but it wasn't worth a shot considering the nearest sign of civilization was about a 30-minute drive.
You exhaled a small sigh and dropped your bag from your shoulder onto the floor, and you turned around to face Andrew who was still relatively close but now you at least had a couple inches of personal space. He looked almost as much of a hungover mess as you, with his blonde hair hanging messily over his shoulders and face and slight bags under his eyes that you had previously never seen him with. But he had an odd look in his eyes that made you even more uneasy than you already were.
"Listen, Andrew, I'm sorry that I kissed you last night, I was drunk and I was stupid- I'm just- can we please forget about this?" You pleaded while brushing a hand through your hair. Andrew stood there for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out how to put together the words he wanted to say.
"Did you know, " he started, pausing to swallow the saliva that had been building up in his mouth, "I have never kissed someone before last night?"
Your eyes widened while trying to figure out how Andrew of all people hadn't even kissed someone! He was handsome, rich, and unfairly charismatic when he wanted to be. Before you could say something, Andrew held up his hand to signal to wait.
"I just never saw the appeal I guess, until last night that is," he said while trying not to hold eye contact with you for too long or he fears he might explode from shear embarrassment.
"But with you, it's as though," he paused again to gather his words and look down at his hands, "you awoke something in me that I didn't even know was there." His shy demeanor, despite his intimidating size, reminded you of a schoolboy confessing his long time crush to the girl he liked. It would have been cute if he hadn't practically forced you to stay in the beach house.
"I- and now that I felt whatever that was, I want to feel that again." He looked back up at your face, your pretty eyes and soft lips,he didn't know how he missed your beauty after all these years of being around you; but now he so desperately wanted to cradle it in his hands and-
"What?!" You shouted, interrupting his train of thought. Your fear from earlier seemed to have disappeared or at least been overcome by pure annoyance.
"So you're telling me," you took a breath to try and calm yourself, "that just 'cause I kissed you one time, that automatically your entire life of hating me just- poofed it's way out of existence?!"
"I-" Andrew tried to speak, but you quickly cut him off, you were borderline shouting but were trying your best not to completely explode from anger.
"So your entire reason for not hating me anymore is because I got your dick hard?!"
"No that's not it at all-"
"Go find someone else for you to explore your newfound 'feelings' with, I'm not gonna be your experiment just 'cause you've never gotten your dick wet before!"
You sighed and let go of the large breath you were holding and rubbed your eyes to try and figure out what to do with Andrew. Maybe you could set him up with one of your other friends who longed for a hot sugar daddy or something.
Walking past Andrew and back into the kitchen to hopefully find some aspirin or something to cure your now worse headache.
Andrew stared at the floor in front of him, in alm his life he had only cried once. When his dad stained his new tie that he had gotten as a gift from his grandma, other than that it had never happened; it was pretty much not even an option for him. But now he feels the unfamiliar feeling of his throat tightening and his eyes welling up with tears.
You saw him just standing there, and for a moment, you felt bad for him. Then you remembered how he had pinned you to the door, and it quickly disappeared. Swallowing the pills with a glass of leftover orange juice, you walked back to him where he was standing in the middle of the living room and awkwardly patted hid back.
"Look Andrew, I know it's hard when you discover romance or whatever," you sighed while rolling your eyes, " but the only reason you think you like me is because you've never given anyone else a shot, I can set you up with one of my friends even." You tried to lighten up the mood. Some of your friends might be into the whole toxic, pinning someone to a door thing.
Andrew was quiet for a moment before looking at you with red eyes and sighing. You were relieved that he had finally come to his senses, soon enough you two could put this whole thing behind yall and continue hating and at best tolerating each other.
"Have you... been with others?" Andrew asked quietly while tucking a stray hair behind his ear. You hesitated before replying.
"I mean- yeah; most people our age have had sex-" before you can even finish your sentence Andrew quickly traps your fave between his large hands and smashes his lips onto your.
Your eyes widened and you imminently tried to get him off of you, but your shoves against his broad chest didn't even register in his mind.
His inexperience shined through as his teeth cracked against yours and how he tried to immidelty shove his tongue in your mouth, but it didn't seem to bother him at all with how he let out small whimpers, trying to push his body as close to yours as possible.
He lowered his hands from your face and around your waist to haul you off the floor and onto the nearby couch, hovering over you but still putting enough weight to stop you from moving.
When he finally pulled away, you tried to scream something to try and get through to him, but one of his large hands covered your mouth, and he looked at you with pure want in his eyes.
"I can -" he tried to catch his breath, his second kiss with you leaving him breathless and red in the face. He gulped before speaking, "if you did it with others, you can do it with me," he let out a shaky breath before quickly shedding his shirt.
"A-andrew- listen- please- " he shut you up with another kiss, if you could even call the rough mouth full of tongue that, and slowly grinding against your thigh.
Your heart was beating so fast and you didn't notice the very noticeable bulge in his sweatpants. You thrashed and tried to get away from his grip but it only spurred him on more. He let out a patheic moan at the way you gripped the back of his hair and pulled hard, him pawing at your shirt, trying to get a taste of your soft, sweet-
He cried out when you bit his tongue, the taste of iron filling both of your mouths. He pulled away for a second, his hair sticking to his forward from the light sheen of sweat, his cheeks red and his eyes full of wonder from the pure pleasure of only humping against your soft thigh.
"You've known me your whole life, if you can have sex with someone you've only known for a few hours, you can definitely do it with me," he panted while humping your soft leg and referring to your many hook ups over the years. You felt like tearing his face off with the way he talked, like a teenage incel whose never even seen pussy. He sped up with his thrusts and laid his forehead in the crook of your neck, licking the sweat that had come from the heat.
Before you could speak, he interruptedyou with a loud breathy moan, his sweatpants now having stain and his cock growing softer against you.
For once, you couldn't say anything.
But soon you felt his cock hardening again and you knew it would be a while till you could escape, so you grit your teeth and just waited till he hopefully had his fill.
-
Hey yall sorry it took so long, I've been so busy with finals and stuff but here it is!! It's not proof read but I probably go back on it. Hope you enjoyed 🫶
Tag list! : @surprisemodafakas @kyoko-neko @kaeriustehe @kleoneli @purple-obsidian @strawberrie-me @lem-hhn
#yandere x y/n#yandere#oc#oc x reader#original content#orginal#yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere x reader#smut#light smut
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