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goonerforthree · 2 days ago

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With you, Always Chapter Two

A/N: I'll try to get chapter three out to you guys tonight. Editing was choppy, so if there are any mistakes, let me know. I didn't really fine-tune the small details this time.

Words: 8.8k

They left Los Angeles under a pale sky streaked with early gold, the kind of quiet fall morning where even the airport felt half-asleep. Paige drove them to LAX with one hand on the wheel and the other linked with Azzi’s across the center console, neither of them saying much, both nursing the kind of tiredness that comes after late-night laughter and unspoken nerves.

Virginia was a different kind of autumn — cooler, softer, the air thick with leaves and memory. When they landed in D.C., Azzi inhaled like she was coming up for air. “Smells like home,” she said, nudging Paige with her shoulder.

St. John’s College High School sat tucked beneath canopies of orange and red, its brick walls the same as when Azzi had last walked its halls. The gym still echoed when the backboard rattled. The bleachers still had her carved initials hidden under the fourth row.

The current team was practicing when they walked in — the shuffle of sneakers, the whistle of a bounce pass. Azzi stepped onto the court with that easy grace that turned heads even now, and within seconds the girls were buzzing around her like she was part legend, part older sister.

Paige watched from the doorway, a small smile tugging at her mouth as Azzi dropped into drills — full-court layups, one-dribble pull-ups, jokes in between. It was like watching a time machine in motion, except Azzi was sharper now, more whole. Comfortable in a way Paige envied.

The coach gave Paige a nod, then leaned in quietly. “She’s always been special,” he said, eyes on Azzi. “Nice to see she’s still humble about it.”

Paige nodded, fingers tightening around the strap of her crossbody bag. “Yeah. She makes it easy to root for her.”

Later, they sat in the bleachers, watching the last scrimmage wind down. Azzi had her arm thrown across the back of Paige’s seat, body warm against hers, laughter still in her throat.

“I missed this place,” she said. “Not the early lifts or the nun who yelled at us for wearing shorts in the halls, but… this.”

Paige rested her head against Azzi’s shoulder. “I get it.”

Azzi turned her head slightly. “You okay?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

She didn’t say what about — how she’d noticed the way Azzi’s dad had been watching them over dinner the night before, the way her mom had quietly refilled Paige’s tea and asked if she was happy. Paige had said yes. Meant it. But she was also planning the biggest question of her life.

And the time to ask was coming fast.

The next morning was gray and gold, the kind of crisp fall air that made everything feel sharper. Azzi stood in front of the mirror tying her hair up, sleeves pushed to her elbows, her gold St. John’s hoodie slightly wrinkled from being shoved in a suitcase. Paige was still curled up under the covers, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly — or pretending to.

“You got any plans today?” Azzi asked, grabbing her sneakers from the corner and sliding them on.

Paige looked up, blinking like she’d just remembered she was supposed to be doing something. “Not really. Thought I’d just hang back here, maybe go for a walk or something.”

Azzi raised a brow. “A walk?”

Paige shrugged, too casually. “Yeah. It’s fall, it’s pretty out. People do that.”

Azzi smirked and grabbed her jacket off the chair. “Right. You and your mysterious walks.”

Paige gave her a lazy smile, but her voice stayed calm. “Who are you meeting again?”

“Laila. We played together here my senior year — she transferred in late but she was like my shadow. Crazy handles. I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Nice,” Paige said, stretching a little. “Tell her I said hey.”

Azzi leaned down to kiss her. “You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Nah,” Paige murmured, fingers brushing Azzi’s wrist. “You should catch up without me hovering.”

Azzi nodded, then narrowed her eyes just a little. “You’re not acting weird again, are you?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Define weird.”

Azzi pointed at her. “That.”

“I’m literally still in bed,” Paige said, laughing.

Azzi lingered by the door for a second longer, like she wanted to say something else but couldn’t find the thread. Then: “Okay. I’ll text you after.”

“Have fun,” Paige said, watching her go.

The door shut with a soft click, and the silence that followed felt heavier than it should have.

Paige sat up, letting the blankets fall away, her phone still in her hand — already halfway through a message to Azzi’s dad asking if he had time to talk today.

She stared at the screen for a second.

Then hit send.

The kitchen smelled like cinnamon toast and fresh coffee, the windows cracked just enough to let in the fall air. Paige stood at the counter in sweatpants and a St. John’s alumni hoodie that wasn’t hers, slowly slicing an apple she had no intention of eating. She kept glancing at the doorway like it might answer the knot in her stomach for her.

Tim walked in with the ease of a man in his own space, still in basketball joggers and a quarter-zip, a travel mug in one hand and a knowing look already planted on his face.

“I hear you wanted to talk to me, Paige.”

Paige jumped slightly, caught mid-slice. “Morning. Uh… yeah.”

Tim walked to the fridge, opened it like he wasn’t about to rock her entire nervous system, then turned back around slowly. “I already know you’re going to lunch with Katie this afternoon,” he said, sipping his coffee. “But whatever this is must be important. You’ve been weird all morning. So come on. Spit it out.”

Paige set the knife down. Her hand was still holding half the apple, but she wasn’t really looking at it anymore. “Tim…”

He raised a brow.

She took a breath. “I just—I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About… Azzi. About us.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Safe bet.”

Paige gave a dry little laugh. “Right. I guess I don’t know how to start this. It’s not like… I don’t know, a playbook.”

Tim’s eyes softened, just a little. “You’re making it a lot more complicated than it needs to be.”

She nodded, looked down, then back up again. “Okay. I love her. Like—I know people say that all the time, and I’ve said it a thousand different ways, but I mean it in the big way. In the—she’s the calm in my brain when it spins, she’s the one who makes me think maybe all the stuff I was scared of growing up doesn’t have to be scary forever—kind of way.”

Tim didn’t interrupt, but he didn’t blink either.

Paige kept going. “I’ve seen her at her worst and still thought she was the best person I’d ever met. She’s not just the love of my life—she’s my favorite teammate, and my safest person, and the one I want to wake up next to when we’re old and creaky and arguing about socks on the floor.”

She paused, eyes suddenly burning. “I don’t just love her. I like her. And I think that’s even rarer.”

Tim waited for a beat. Then: “Paige, spit it out. I know you love her. I’ve seen that since you were sixteen.”

Paige blinked, the breath she didn’t realize she was holding slipping out in a laugh. “Right. Okay. I want to marry her.”

Tim didn’t move.

Paige quickly added, “Not like, tomorrow. But… you know that trip we’re taking to Turks and Caicos in a few weeks?”

He nodded.

“I want to do it then. I have the ring. I’ve had it for a bit, actually. It’s… kind of insane. But I want it to be right. And I figured… if I’m gonna ask her, I should ask you first.”

Tim set his coffee down slowly, the clink of ceramic on granite loud in the silence. Then he gave Paige a long, squinting look. “Wow.”

Paige bit her lip. “Yeah?”

“I knew you had it in you,” he said. “But this? This is next-level Bueckers. Bougie proposal in the islands? You’re not just going for the layup. You’re windmill dunking it.”

Paige grinned, finally letting the nerves fall off her shoulders. “Alright, man. Don’t clown me.”

“I’m not,” Tim said, grinning back. “I’m impressed. Hell, I’m proud. You really do love her.”

“I really do.”

He reached across the counter, clapped her on the shoulder once, firm and warm. “You have my blessing. Of course you do.”

Paige exhaled so hard she almost laughed again. “Thanks. Really.”

Tim picked his coffee back up and started toward the hallway, then paused in the doorway.

“Oh, and Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget—she’s gonna cry like a baby. You better have tissues or something.”

“I’m counting on it,” Paige smirked.

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Katie stepped into the living room, her jacket slung over one arm and a reusable coffee cup in hand. “You driving or am I?”

Paige looked up from the couch, where she was lacing her sneakers. “I can drive.”

Katie gave a little nod, already heading toward the door. “Good. I’ve been running around all morning. Had a rec center board meeting, then two moms cornered me in the parking lot about the new gym schedule.”

Paige grinned as she stood. “You’re basically mayor of Arlington at this point.”

“Please don’t give them ideas,” Katie said, rolling her eyes fondly. “Let me just be the lady who hands out basketballs and yells at referees.”

They walked out to the car, crisp fall air wrapping around them. Leaves crunched under their shoes as they crossed the driveway. Paige unlocked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat while Katie settled in beside her, sighing like she’d finally sat down after hours on her feet.

As Paige pulled out, Katie glanced over. “By the way, why was Tim acting all mysterious when I came in from the garage? He looked like he just got hit with a ton of bricks.”

Paige kept her eyes on the road, trying to act casual. “Oh… nothing. Just talking.”

Katie tilted her head. “Paige.”

“What?”

“That was the most suspicious ‘just talking’ I’ve ever heard.”

Paige fought back a smirk. “You’re imagining things.”

Katie gave her a look that only moms could pull off — part amusement, part x-ray vision. “Mmhmm. You’re a sweet girl, Paige, but you’ve never been good at keeping secrets. Tim was smiling like he’d just won the lottery.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Maybe he did.”

Katie let it go with a little shake of her head. “Bueckers you are something else. But I’m too hungry to pry.”

They pulled into a small brunch spot tucked between a florist and a yoga studio, the kind of neighborhood place Katie frequented — two people waved when they stepped out of the car.

“Come on,” Katie said, linking arms with Paige for a second. “You can tell me your little secrets over omelets. Or not. But either way, I’m ordering pancakes the size of my head.”

Paige smiled, grateful and nervous all at once. “Sounds like a plan.”

Paige stirred the ice in her water glass, the clink of the cubes soft and aimless as she gathered herself. The buzz of the café filled in the background — low voices, the scrape of silverware, a barista steaming milk behind the counter. Katie sipped her coffee across from her, watching her with that same calm, open patience Paige had always admired. There was no rush in her gaze, just quiet readiness.

"So," Paige began again, more slowly this time, eyes still fixed on her glass. "I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about… well, everything. Me and Azzi. The past few years."

Katie smiled softly, sensing what was coming but not pushing.

Paige finally looked up. "You know, it’s kind of wild. I met her when I was sixteen, and it didn’t feel like anything dramatic at the time — she was just this girl I kept hearing about, this rising star from the East Coast. Then we met at camp, and… it just clicked. Not romantically, not right away. But she got me. In a way no one else did."

Her voice wavered slightly, the words stretching out like they’d been waiting to be spoken. "I’ve always been kind of guarded — you probably know that — I’m not great at letting people in. But with Azzi, I didn’t have to try. She saw me. All of me."

Katie was quiet, hands folded gently around her coffee mug.

"Through everything — the injuries, the pressure, the noise — she’s been my constant. Like, when the world got too loud, she was always the one person I could run to and just… breathe. She never asked me to be anything but myself. Never flinched when I was struggling. Never made me feel like I had to apologize for being human."

Paige exhaled slowly. Her voice had softened, taken on that earnestness that came only when she wasn’t trying to be composed.

"She’s seen me at my worst, Katie. Like, the real worst. And she still chose to love me. And that’s what gets me every time. Because it’s easy to love someone when they’re shining, when the world is cheering them on. But she’s loved me through the quiet, through the ugly, through the broken days. And I’ve tried to do the same for her."

Katie blinked once, then again, before reaching up to discreetly wipe a tear that had rolled down her cheek. She chuckled lightly through it. "Excuse me," she said with a watery laugh. "It’s just… it’s really beautiful to see how far you two have come. I remember you as teenagers, barely figuring out who you were. And now look at you."

Paige smiled sheepishly, cheeks coloring. "Yeah."

She paused, then took a breath, sitting up a little straighter. "That’s why I want to marry her. I mean… I want Azzi to be it for me. She’s my everything, Katie. Has been since I was sixteen. No one else makes me feel the way she does. Safe, seen, challenged. She’s not just the person I love — she’s my best friend, my anchor, my home."

Katie reached across the table, covering Paige’s hand with hers.

"Of course," she said, her voice steady but full. "You don’t even have to ask, but since you are — my answer is yes. It’s always yes."

Paige’s face cracked into a wide smile, a mix of relief and joy lighting up her whole expression. "Thank you," she breathed.

They sat like that for a moment, the table between them feeling less like a barrier and more like a bridge.

Then Paige leaned in, her voice dropping a little. "Okay, so… I have a plan. I’ve had a plan, actually. I’ve been sitting on it for like two months."

Katie laughed. "That tracks. You were always the planner."

"Guilty," Paige said with a grin. "So, when we go to Turks and Caicos next month — that’s when I want to do it. Just us, no distractions, no press, no games hanging over our heads. Just… quiet and sunshine and ocean."

Katie tilted her head. "That sounds perfect. Do you know how you want to do it?"

Paige nodded, excitement starting to bubble now that she was finally saying it out loud. "There’s this spot on the resort property — it’s this little cliffside overlook, totally private. I already scouted it when we went last year. I contacted the hotel, and they’re helping me set it up. Candles, string lights, nothing over the top but… beautiful. Just enough."

"You really thought of everything," Katie said, clearly impressed.

"I even got a ring," Paige said, eyes gleaming. "The hotel in Turks and Caicos is holding it for me — I had it shipped there because I was afraid I was going to lose it. It’s simple, elegant — something I knew Azzi would love."

Katie smiled so wide it crinkled her eyes. "You’re going next-level Bueckers bougie."

Paige laughed, leaning back. "Tim said the same thing."

"Well," Katie said, sitting back with a content sigh. "As much as I’d love to be surprised, I think Azzi might see it coming. You’re not exactly subtle when you’re this excited."

"I know," Paige admitted. "But I don’t care. Even if she does see it coming, I just want the moment to feel like… us. Honest. Earned."

Katie nodded slowly. "That’s the kind of love that lasts."

They both sat back as their food arrived, warm plates placed gently between them. As they picked up their forks and started in, the conversation softened into smaller things — who was coaching the youth league now, the best local donut shop, whether Azzi still refused to wear socks at home.

But the weight of what had passed between them lingered, golden and steady, like the light of late afternoon filtering through the café window. It was a promise, spoken and received — and tucked safely into the hands of someone who had always known exactly how much Paige loved her daughter.

Dinner was relaxed, the warm lighting over the table casting a soft glow on the spread of food. The smells of roasted vegetables and seasoned chicken filled the air as forks clinked against plates and casual conversation floated around the room. Everyone was seated — Tim at the head of the table, Katie to his right, Paige across from her, and Azzi next to Paige, recounting her afternoon.

"So, you guys heard about my day already," Azzi said, reaching for her glass of water. "Laila's still the same — loud, dramatic, but in the best way. We went to that little spot off Glebe for lunch and just caught up for like three hours. I swear she still talks faster than I can think."

She grinned as she started cutting into her chicken. "Anyway, what did you guys do today?"

There was a beat of silence. Then all at once, Tim, Katie, and Paige began answering — overlapping, slightly out of sync.

"Oh, just odds and ends," Katie said casually.

"Ran some errands, helped your mom with something," Tim added with a shrug.

"Nothing much," Paige chimed in, eyes on her plate a second too long.

Azzi paused, eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced between the three of them. They were trying way too hard to sound nonchalant — which, for her family, was already suspicious. Paige wasn’t even attempting her usual cover.

Azzi dropped her fork with a loud clink against her plate. "Okay… I can count on Paige to act weird. That’s expected. But Mom? Dad? You guys too?"

Tim didn’t miss a beat. "What can I say? Weirdness is contagious. Like the flu. Except more fun."

Paige snorted. "He’s right. I think I picked it up somewhere around my sophomore year. It’s terminal now."

Katie stifled a laugh behind her napkin, eyes sparkling.

Azzi shook her head, both amused and suspicious. "You all are so weird. Seriously."

Paige raised an eyebrow. "How do you not know that you’re the one being weird right now?"

Azzi’s mouth dropped open. "Oh no, you are not about to gaslight me. Not at this dinner table."

Everyone laughed — a shared, lighthearted energy filling the room, the kind that came when something was definitely going on but no one was quite ready to spill the secret just yet.

And so they ate, with jokes traded over mashed potatoes and glances exchanged over dessert, each of them holding onto the moment — and the secret — just a little longer.

The room was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Paige lay on her back, one arm draped loosely around Azzi, who had curled into her side, head tucked into the crook of Paige’s shoulder like it was made for her. Paige’s phone screen lit up in her other hand, thumbs tapping out a text to her dad, confirming what time she’d head over tomorrow to store her boxes in his garage.

Azzi shifted slightly. "Paige?"

"Mhm?" Paige didn’t look away from her phone just yet.

"Why were you all acting so weird at dinner?"

Paige paused, finishing her message and hitting send before placing her phone down on the nightstand. She turned to kiss the top of Azzi’s head — soft, lingering, comforting.

"Don’t worry, princess," she murmured.

Azzi didn’t move. "That didn’t answer my question."

Paige smiled against her hair, eyes closing for a second longer than a blink. "Because it wasn’t really a question I could answer without ruining a surprise," she said quietly, brushing her thumb along Azzi’s shoulder. "And I know how you get with surprises."

Azzi tilted her head up just enough to give Paige a look — suspicious, narrowed eyes and all. "You’re being cryptic."

"And you’re being nosy."

Azzi let out a low groan and dropped her head back to Paige’s chest. "Whatever. I’m too tired to press you, but just so you know, I noticed. I notice everything."

"I’m well aware," Paige said with a grin, flicking off the lamp.

The room fell into darkness, the only sound the hum of crickets outside the window and the faint whir of the ceiling fan. Azzi shifted again, her body settling completely into Paige’s.

Paige whispered into the quiet, "Love you."

Azzi answered without hesitation. "Love you more."

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The boxes were finally stacked—some heavier than others, all coated in that dusty garage film that stuck to your hands like chalk. Paige wiped her palms on her shorts, exhaling. Her dad was crouched near a stack labeled college gear, adjusting it so the top didn’t cave in.

And then, without planning to, without even fully thinking it through, she said it.

“I’m gonna propose to Azzi when we’re in Turks and Caicos.”

Her dad froze mid-shift. Then, slowly, he turned around—his eyes wide, but his smile even wider. Without a word, he stepped over and wrapped her in a bear hug.

“Uh—hello?” Paige mumbled, stiff for a second in his arms. “You good?”

He pulled back, hands on her shoulders, grinning like he’d just been handed season tickets to the Final Four. “Paige. Paige. You don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something like that.”

She blinked. “Wait—what?”

He laughed, shaking his head like it was all so obvious. “Come on. You think I don’t see it? The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? It’s like watching two puzzle pieces figure out they’ve been side by side the whole time.”

Paige’s face flushed a little. She scratched the back of her neck. “I mean... yeah, I guess.”

He tilted his head and smirked. “Aww, look who’s all shy now. Alright, dork.”

She shoved his shoulder. “Whatever, bro.”

He chuckled, then gave her a little nod—one that said I’m proud of you without needing the words. Paige just smiled and looked down at her hands. For once, she didn’t mind the dust.

They were still standing there—Paige with that shy little grin, her dad looking like he was holding in a secret too big to keep—when Azzi walked into the garage, sneakers soft against the concrete.

She stopped just inside the door, taking in their weirdly frozen smiles. “Okay… why is everyone acting weird?”

Bob cleared his throat and quickly patted one of the boxes. “We, uh… just found some stuff in the boxes. Took us back to the old days. Bit of a time warp, right, Paige?”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, amused. “Bob, don’t lie for her. Paige didn’t get her weirdness from you—why are you covering for her?”

Paige chuckled awkwardly as Azzi walked past her, giving the back of her neck a light smack with her hand.

“Seriously, why are you making everyone act weird?” Azzi said with a grin, tossing her over-the-shoulder look as she kept walking. “I’m starting to think dinner last night wasn’t a joke—this whole ‘weirdness is contagious’ thing might actually be real.”

Paige looked down again, sheepish, lips curved in a soft, caught smile. “Whatever, bro.”

Azzi stopped mid-step, turned fully around, brow furrowed like she’d just been insulted. “I’m not your bro, Paige.”

Paige looked up—guilty, flustered, glowing.

Bob just whistled low and muttered, “Yup. Definitely not her bro.”

Azzi shot him a confused glance. “Okay, now you’re both being weird.”

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Paige sat cross-legged on her bed, phone propped up against a water bottle, FaceTime open and angled just enough to show her face but not the pile of half-folded clothes still needing to be packed. Her mom’s face filled the screen, framed by the kitchen behind her.

“So your flight gets in around 1:15, right?” her mom asked, glancing at something offscreen. “I was gonna come get you, but I actually have work that morning. And, funny enough, Ryan decided he was gonna drive back from school to be there for Lauren’s senior night.”

“Oh—really?” Paige smiled. “That’s actually kinda perfect.”

“Yeah, I figured it worked out. He can pick you and Azzi up, if that’s okay.”

“Totally,” Paige nodded. “We were just over at my dad’s all day today and yesterday, stacking boxes. Azzi just finished packing and hopped in the shower, so it’s been...chaos, but we’re almost good to go.”

Her mom smiled, warm and knowing. “Sounds like you’ve got it handled.”

“Yeah,” Paige said, then looked off to the side for a beat before adding, “Katie’s gonna drive us to the airport tomorrow morning, so that’s what’s going on over here.”

There was a pause. Paige hesitated a second, chewing on her lower lip, then said casually, “Also... I’ve got some big news I wanna share with you in person.”

Amy’s smile shifted—just slightly teasing, definitely knowing. “Mmhmm. I think I might already know what it is.”

Paige blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Katie texted me something kinda... cryptic after your lunch the other day,” she said with a little smirk. “Didn’t say anything specific, but it was a little off. I figured I’d let you tell me when you’re ready.”

Paige felt the heat rise to her cheeks and let out a sheepish laugh. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you,” Amy said softly.

“Love you too,” Paige replied, smiling as she ended the call.

She sat for a second afterward, still holding the phone in her hand, cheeks flushed, heart warm.

Then, from the bathroom, Azzi’s voice echoed faintly through the door.

“Paige? Did you steal my other sock again?!”

Paige grinned, tucking her phone under her pillow. “No comment!”

It was barely past six when Katie warmed up the car in the driveway, headlights slicing through the soft blue haze of early morning. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet—just that soft, sleepy light starting to stretch across the trees. Paige was already outside on the porch, sipping from a travel mug and watching the sky warm up. She waved as Katie pulled up, then turned back inside to help Azzi drag out the last of their bags.

The trunk closed with a satisfying thunk, and they all slid into the car—Azzi in the passenger seat, Paige behind her.

“Y’all sure you’re awake enough to travel?” Katie teased, glancing at them in the mirror. “Or do I need to swing by and grab another round of coffees?”

“I’m functional,” Azzi said, half-yawning. “That’s all you’re getting from me at this hour.”

“Functional counts,” Katie said, chuckling. She reached to the center console and passed back a granola bar toward Paige. “Eat something. Your stomach’s gonna be upside down after TSA.”

Paige took it with a small smile. “Thanks.”

Katie gave a tiny nod and kept driving. But something about the silence that settled in the car after that felt... weighted. Not awkward—just full. Paige felt it in her chest, like a low hum. She leaned her head against the window, watching the early light wash the world golden.

They hit the highway, the road opening up in front of them, and Katie finally broke the quiet again.

“So,” she said, a little too brightly. “Turks and Caicos. That’s pretty casual.”

Azzi snorted. “Right? She didn’t even tell me until like two weeks ago. Just FaceTimed me one night and was like, ‘So… pack light.’ Like it was no big deal.”

Paige smirked. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” Azzi said. “I googled the resort last night and had a full breakdown about whether I brought the right sandals.”

“You brought six pairs,” Paige said flatly.

“Exactly,” Azzi said, turning in her seat. “What if I needed seven?”

Katie laughed softly, but her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror again, landing on Paige. There was so much she wanted to say, but she knew not to. Not yet. Paige hadn’t said it out loud—not officially. But Katie could see it. In the way Paige looked at her daughter when she wasn’t paying attention. In the way she’d lingered at lunch the other day, heart in her throat and trying to find the right moment to breathe.

She kept her hands at ten and two and said instead, “I’m really glad you two are doing this. These are the kinds of memories you hold onto forever.”

Azzi reached over and nudged Katie’s shoulder with hers. “Aww. Are you getting sentimental on us?”

“Maybe,” Katie said, a little defensively. “What, I’m not allowed to be obsessed with my favorite daughter?”

Paige chuckled from the back. “You have been extra mushy this week.”

“I’m allowed,” Katie said again, this time quieter. “Next time I see you guys... things might be different.”

Paige’s eyes dropped to her lap, smile playing quietly at the corner of her lips. She knew what her mom meant. And even though they hadn’t said the words out loud, the understanding hung in the car like music in the background.

When they reached the airport drop-off, Katie pulled up along the curb and put the car in park. She stepped out quickly and popped the trunk, already reaching for the bags.

“I got it,” Paige said, hopping out too.

“Nope,” Katie replied, pulling one suitcase out like it weighed nothing. “Let me do mom things before you run off to paradise.”

Azzi stretched and walked around to help, stifling another yawn. Once everything was out and lined up on the curb, Katie turned and wrapped her arms around Azzi tightly. No words at first—just the long kind of hug that said a thousand things.

“I love you,” Katie murmured into her hair. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I love you too,” Azzi said back, squeezing her hard.

Then Katie grabbed Paige next, pulling her in like one of her own. “You take care of her, okay?”

“I always do,” Paige said, smiling into the hug.

Katie pulled back, brushing some invisible lint from Paiges shoulder. “Bring me back a shell or something. Or a tan.”

“No promises on the tan,” Paige said. “But I’ll find you the best shell in the Caribbean.”

Katie laughed and gave one last wave as they turned toward the airport doors. She stood there, watching them go, her heart impossibly full.

Inside, the glass doors whooshed shut behind them, muting the sounds of the world outside. Paige adjusted her bag and looked around for the TSA line.

Azzi slowed, walking beside her, brow furrowed slightly. “Okay… was my mom acting weird or was that just me?”

Paige kept her eyes forward. “Didn’t notice anything.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes at her, skeptical. “No, I’m definitely right. She was being weird.”

Paige shrugged and casually stepped into the security line, holding out their passports like the conversation had ended.

Azzi watched her a second longer, eyes narrowing. “Hmm.”

But Paige just kept moving.

Azzi followed her, lips pressed into a playful frown. “You’re hiding something. I’m onto you.”

Paige just smiled to herself and handed over her boarding pass.

The arrivals curb outside the airport was a chaotic shuffle of honking cars and wheeled suitcases, but it only took a second for Paige to spot the beat-up gray Subaru pulling up to the loading zone. The driver’s window rolled down, revealing a mop of tousled blond hair and a wide, familiar grin.

“There’s my favorite WNBA power couple!” Ryan called out, throwing the car into park and hopping out. He jogged over, arms wide. “Come on, gimme a hug, it’s been months.”

Paige laughed and met him halfway. “You saw me this summer.”

“Months,” Ryan repeated, squeezing her tight before pulling back and turning to Azzi. “Hey, Azzi.”

Azzi smiled as he wrapped her up next. “Hey, Ryan. Thanks for grabbing us.”

“Of course,” he said, grabbing one of their heavier bags. “I was already heading home for Lauren’s thing. Figured I’d play chauffeur for the day. Mom guilt-tripped me into being extra helpful.”

Once everything was crammed into the trunk and the doors shut with that comforting thunk, they were on the road, windows cracked just enough to let in the early afternoon breeze. Azzi had shotgun; Paige sprawled out in the back, feet up against the opposite seat, already peeling the label off her water bottle.

“So,” Ryan said as they merged onto the highway. “How was the flight?”

“Smooth flight?” Ryan asked as he helped haul a suitcase inside.

“Pretty easy,” Paige said, stretching her arms over her head. “I passed out for most of it. Azzi spent, like, two hours trying to untangle her headphones.”

“They were in a knot the size of my fist,” Azzi said flatly. “I won. But barely.”

Ryan snorted. “A true in-flight warrior.”

“I even watched half a movie in peace once I got them untangled,” she added proudly.

Paige grinned. “Until she realized it was the second movie in a trilogy and got mad mid-credits.”

Azzi pointed at her. “Still better than you drooling on my shoulder.”

“Family chaos,” Ryan said, holding the door open. “You’re already fluent.”

Azzi smirked as she walked through. “Feels like it.”

They drove for a minute, the hum of tires filling the car as they cruised past miles of green landscape. Then Paige leaned forward between the seats.

“So,” she said, stretching the word like gum. “Got a girlfriend right now?”

Ryan made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “A girlfriend? Absolutely not. I’m living the dream, thank you. Sophomore year is about options. I'm not committing to anyone. I just... enjoy the moment.”

Azzi raised a brow and looked over at him. “Oh god. Your sophomore year sounds exactly like Paige’s.”

Paige blinked, sitting up straighter. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Azzi said, grinning. “You know what you were doing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Paige said, putting on her best innocent voice. “I was focused. Dialed in. Laser sharp.”

Ryan barked out a laugh. “Focused on what? Flirting with every girl on the rec team?”

“That was one time when I was like sixteen,” Paige said quickly.

Paige added as she leaned forward, “You had a whole-ass boyfriend your freshman year!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Ryan said, raising his hands. “Hey now, I’m not trying to dredge up any trauma here. I’m just saying—” he smirked, tapping the steering wheel—“I’m proudly carrying on the family gene. It’s in the blood.”

“God,” Azzi muttered, shaking her head. “What did I get myself into?”

Ryan grinned at her through the rearview mirror. “A lifetime of banter and chaotic family group chats, obviously.”

“I warned you,” Paige added, nudging Azzi’s shoulder from behind.

Ryan glanced at her again. “You guys have to come visit me sometime, for real. Campus is so fun, especially in the spring. We’ve got this lake spot and a house we rent for parties—legends have been made there.”

Paige’s eyes lit up. “We do have, like, a month in between Unrivaled ending and preseason, right?”

Azzi gave her a wary look. “Please don’t act like you haven’t already checked the dates.”

“I’m just saying,” Paige said, hands up. “We could go for a weekend. Hang with Ryan. Relive the glory days of bad decisions.”

Ryan slapped the steering wheel. “Thank you! This is the energy I need!”

Azzi was still shaking her head, but she was smiling. “I’m sure you want to go,” she said to Paige.

Paige leaned in closer. “Don’t pretend like you don’t. You’d love a weekend at college bars with no media, no practices, and zero alarms.”

Azzi considered that. “...That part does sound nice.”

Ryan reached over and high-fived Paige across the center console. “Boom. It’s settled. We’ll throw a cookout. I’ll invite some of my friends. You can judge their fashion choices and give motivational speeches about cardio.”

Azzi raised a brow. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I mean, I don’t know, but I assume,” Ryan said, grinning. “Plus, if you bring Paige, it’ll raise my stock. I’ll be like, ‘Yeah, my sister’s an absolute baller and casually traveling the world with her hot friend.’”

“We’ve been dating for almost eight years,” Paige cut in, deadpan. “But sure. Hot friend works.”

Azzi snorted, covering her mouth.

Ryan turned in his seat, eyebrows raised. “Wait, that’s how long it’s been?”

“On and off,” Paige said with a small smirk. “But, yeah. Still going strong. Still apparently the hot friend.”

Azzi looked out the window, clearly amused. “Honestly, I’ve been promoted. I used to just be the excuse she gave for being late to film.”

Ryan let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s longer than some marriages.”

“You’re not wrong,” Paige said, shaking her head.

Ryan looked between them and nodded with mock seriousness. “Well, in that case couple confirmed. And I’m still bragging about it.”

“You’re impossible,” Paige muttered, laughing.

Azzi grinned. “Still kind of worse than her.”

Ryan looked smug. “Thank you.”

“Not a compliment,” she added, just as quickly.

They rode the rest of the way in that easy rhythm—music low, windows open, breeze in their hair. Stories flowed naturally. Ryan talked about his classes, a failed attempt at cooking for his roommates, and how he once got locked out of his dorm barefoot in the snow. Azzi told them about an old AAU tournament where her teammate’s mom forgot all the uniforms. Paige mostly just laughed, threw in the occasional sarcastic quip, and let herself be surrounded by the comfort of people who knew her, really knew her.

By the time they pulled up to Amy’s house, the sun was starting to dip again—golden hour light painting the driveway.

Ryan parked in the driveway and put the car in park with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, everybody out. I’ve done my duty as personal chauffeur, now I’m clocking out.”

Azzi was already reaching for the door handle. “You act like we didn’t just spend the last forty-five minutes listening to you rank your top five dorm party fails.”

“Hey, that was wisdom I was passing down,” Ryan said, unbuckling. “You’re welcome.”

Paige snorted. “You’re such a clown.”

“And yet,” Ryan said, pointing at himself, “this clown gets free food, his bed back for the week, and primo access to the living room TV.”

Azzi stepped out and stretched. “God help us.”

“You say that now,” Ryan said, grabbing his backpack and slamming the car door, “but wait ‘til I make you my signature microwave nachos tonight.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re doing now?” Paige laughed. “Feeding her radioactive cheese and pretending it’s cuisine?”

“Don’t disrespect the nachos,” Ryan said, mock-offended. “They’re basically a family heirloom.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at her mouth. “I’m starting to see where you get it from,” she muttered to Paige.

Paige smirked. “Don’t look at me. I’m the normal one.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “You’re the normal one? Azzi, please tell me that was a joke.”

Azzi gave Paige a long, exaggerated once-over. “I mean… she did FaceTime-invite me to Turks and Caicos with zero context.”

“Thank you!” Ryan exclaimed, already leading the way up the front steps. “That’s chaos behavior!”

“Okay, okay,” Paige said, throwing her hands up. “You know what? I regret asking either of you to pick me up.”

Ryan turned and walked backward up the porch. “Too late now. You’re stuck with me for the weekend. Hope you like bad jokes and stealing the last cookie.”

“We’re in the guest room, right?” Paige asked.

“Obviously,” Ryan said. “I already staked my claim—duffel’s exploded all over the bed. Home court advantage.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume we won’t chuck your stuff into the hallway the second you start acting up.”

Ryan shot her finger guns. “And bold of you to assume I won’t come sleep on the couch at 3 a.m. in full conversation mode.”

Paige groaned. “This is actually my nightmare.”

Ryan unlocked the front door and held it open with a smirk. “Welcome to it.”

They filed inside, laughter still lingering in the air, bags thudding against the floor.

And somehow, it already felt like the start of something good.

Late afternoon light spilled into the living room, casting everything in a honey-gold glow. Paige lay on one end of the couch, arm draped over her eyes, while Ryan had fully claimed the other end, feet up, one hand mindlessly scrolling his phone and the other holding a half-empty LaCroix.

“I swear your couch is softer than I remember,” Ryan said.

“That’s because you never get off it when you’re home,” Paige mumbled without moving.

“Can’t help it,” he said. “Perfect napping angle. Great armrest-to-head ratio. Premium lounging conditions.”

Paige peeked at him with one eye. “You sound like you’re reviewing it for a magazine.”

“I should. Midwestern Brother’s Guide to Napping Gear. Issue one: this couch.”

From the kitchen, they could hear laughter—Azzi’s voice mixing with Amy’s. Every few minutes, there’d be a rustle of paper or the soft crackle of plastic sleeves.

“Okay but look at this one,” Azzi said, clearly trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Oh my god,” Amy replied, breath catching. “That was Easter, like… 2011. Paige insisted on wearing her basketball warm-up under her dress in case someone challenged her to a 1v1 after church.”

Ryan let out a snort. “That tracks.”

Paige groaned into the couch cushions. “Do not bring that up in front of Azzi.”

“Too late,” Azzi called. “You had knee pads on under a sundress. What were you preparing for? A post-sermon scrimmage?”

“I was being efficient,” Paige shot back. “God favors the prepared.”

Azzi and Amy both cracked up again.

“You’re doomed,” Ryan said, grinning at her. “She’s never gonna let that go.”

“I can live with it,” Paige said. “But if any tutu pics surface, I’m burning the entire photo album.”

“Oh, now we’re threatening arson,” Amy said lightly, her voice still full of laughter. “Classic Paige defense.”

From the kitchen doorway, Azzi peeked around the corner, holding a photo with a raised eyebrow. “You had braces and a fauxhawk.”

Ryan sat up. “Wait, let me see.”

“No,” Paige groaned. “Absolutely not. We’re cutting off access.”

Ryan leaned back smugly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got worse.”

“You’re not helping your case.”

“Not trying to,” he said. “I thrive on chaos.”

Azzi disappeared back into the kitchen, still chuckling with Amy as the pages of the photo album turned.

The front door creaked faintly, followed by the rhythmic thunk of a volleyball bag hitting the floor.

“I’m home!” Lauren called out.

“In the kitchen!” Amy responded.

Paige sat up slowly, stretching her arms overhead with a yawn. “Perfect timing. I was starting to think I’d die on this couch.”

Ryan stood and ruffled her hair on his way past. “Tragic. Cause of death: nostalgia and dehydration.”

“Get off me.”

Azzi reappeared from the kitchen, laughing, holding a photo in one hand and a tortilla chip in the other. “Okay, now we can go. Lauren’s back, the photo roast session is complete, and if we don’t leave soon, I’m eating this entire platter by myself.”

Ryan grabbed his keys from the coffee table. “Let’s roll. I need enchiladas and a margarita the size of my head.”

“You’re not even legal,” Amy called.

“I said need, not get.”

Paige smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the margarita. For... comparison purposes.”

Azzi looked between the two of them, shaking her head with a small smile. “What did I get myself into?”

Paige bumped her shoulder gently. “Chaos. You got yourself into chaos.”

“And you love it,” Ryan added.

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Still deciding.”

But she was already grabbing her hoodie and slipping into her sneakers, trailing them out the door as voices and laughter spilled behind them like sunlight through an open window.

Dinner had settled into that sweet, sleepy phase where everyone was full, a little slower, and leaning back in their chairs. The table was cluttered with empty salsa bowls, scattered napkins, and a few last tortilla chips no one had the stomach to finish.

Azzi had leaned in toward Lauren somewhere between the second round of tacos and the third round of chips. “So,” she asked, brushing salt from her fingers, “commitment day’s coming up soon, right?”

Lauren perked up instantly. “Yup. October twelfth.”

“You locking in Drake?”

Lauren nodded, her grin proud and a little bashful. “Yeah. It just... felt like home. The team’s great, the coaches are chill, and I’ll be playing outside hitter full-time.”

“Let’s go,” Azzi said, reaching across to fist bump her. “I’m proud of you.”

Amy smiled and squeezed Lauren’s arm. “I’m proud of her too. It’s all happening so fast.”

Ryan raised his Coke. “To the future star of the Missouri Valley.”

Lauren laughed and clinked her glass with his.

Then she glanced at Azzi and Paige. “Okay, but wait—I heard you two are going to Turks and Caicos?”

Azzi shot her a look, grinning. “Someone’s got a gossip line.”

“Mom told me,” Lauren admitted, nudging Amy.

Amy held up her hands innocently. “I just said they were taking a trip. You said Turks and Caicos.”

Paige chuckled. “Yeah, we’re heading out soon. It’s been nonstop since April—training camp, games, flights, back and forth across the country.”

“So we’re unplugging for a bit,” Azzi added, stretching her arms over her head. “Hopefully.”

Ryan snorted. “You say that like you’re not both gonna end up doing underwater resistance drills or whatever on day three.”

“No comment,” Paige said with a smirk.

Amy leaned forward, brushing crumbs from the edge of the table. “Any idea where you’ll be for the holidays?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, glancing toward Azzi. “We’re spending Christmas here—with you. I told Azzi she had to do a full midwestern Christmas at least once.”

Azzi grinned. “I’ve already been warned about snow boots and driveway shoveling.”

“And hot chocolate that scalds your throat but heals your soul,” Paige added, mock-serious.

Amy smiled. “I love that. So Thanksgiving?”

“Virginia, with Azzi’s family,” Paige said. “And we’ll probably do New Year’s with my dad and Drew in Maryland.”

“That’s a solid rotation,” Amy said warmly.

“Yeah,” Paige agreed, leaning back with a sigh. “I figure Christmas with you makes sense since we’ll already be back in town after Turks.”

“Oh right,” Ryan said, grinning. “That’s gonna be wild. You better bring back at least one sunburn and a story you can’t tell in front of Mom.”

“No promises,” Azzi said, shooting him a look. “But I am planning to sleep for 70% of the trip.”

Paige grinned. “And the other 30%, you’ll be learning to ski over Christmas.”

Azzi blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Paige leaned over, smug. “I made a deal. Lauren and Ryan are gonna teach you how to ski.”

Ryan nearly spit out his drink. “Hold up, I didn’t agree to that.”

“You did by being my brother,” Paige said sweetly.

Lauren laughed. “I’ve literally been skiing since I was like five, so you’re in good hands.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “This sounds like a setup.”

“It is,” Paige said. “But a festive one.”

Amy chuckled, reaching for the check as the waiter passed. “You’re all ridiculous.”

“And yet you love us,” Ryan said.

“Unfortunately,” she replied, but her smile gave her away.

They all stood slowly, gathering coats and to-go boxes, the air cooling sharply as they stepped outside into the early fall night.

Lauren linked her arm with Azzi’s as they walked toward the car. “We’re getting you in skis, no matter what.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “I’m gonna regret this.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Paige called from behind them.

Ryan nudged her. “You mean after she breaks a wrist?”

“Optimism, Ryan,” Paige said. “It’s the holiday season.”

And with that, they loaded into the car, stomachs full, hearts light, and just enough chaos to feel like home.

--------------------------------------------

The house was quiet in that soft, golden kind of way that only mornings could manage. The smell of butter melting in a pan and freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air. Paige was perched at the kitchen island, still in her sweatshirt from the night before, legs curled under her as she sipped from a mug with “Mama Bear” written across the front in peeling gold.

Amy was humming to herself as she cracked another egg into the skillet, barefoot, hair pulled into a messy ponytail. “Ryan already took Lauren to school,” she said over her shoulder. “Azzi’s still out cold?”

Paige nodded with a sleepy smile. “She didn’t even flinch when I got out of bed. I think she’s still somewhere in the third quarter of a dream.”

Amy laughed softly. “I love that girl. Deep sleeper, though—always was.”

There was a pause as she stirred the eggs, then turned toward Paige, one eyebrow raised. “So…” she began, with that motherly tone that made Paige’s stomach flutter. “You gonna spit it out? What’s really happening when you go to Turks and Caicos?”

Paige froze, eyes wide for a second before she set her mug down. She inhaled slowly, shoulders rising with the breath. “I’m gonna propose,” she said softly, voice steady despite the nerves pulsing under her skin. “I’m asking Azzi to marry me.”

Amy didn’t even blink—just came around the kitchen island, arms out. Paige barely had time to stand before she was wrapped in the kind of hug that held more than just love. It was understanding. Pride. History.

“I thought so,” Amy murmured against her temple, voice thick. “I knew it. I’m so proud of you. My little girl’s not so little anymore—look at you, moving up in the world.”

Paige felt warmth rise in her chest as Amy pulled back slightly, eyes misty. A couple of tears had started rolling down her cheeks. Paige smiled gently and wiped one away with her thumb. “Don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it,” Amy sniffled, cupping Paige’s cheek with one hand. “I remember when you were thirteen and swore you’d never even look at a boy or girl until you were thirty.”

Paige laughed, leaning into her mom’s chest, resting there for a quiet moment. Just breathing. Just being held. The kind of silence where nothing needed to be said because everything already was.

A minute later, soft footsteps padded into the room.

Azzi stood in the kitchen doorway, hair a mess, sleeves too long over her hands, still blinking the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. She saw them and smiled—soft, warm, a little crooked. “Morning,” she murmured.

Amy pulled away from Paige and turned toward the stove. “Good morning, sweetheart. Let’s get you two some breakfast.”

Azzi wandered over and slid onto the stool next to Paige, rubbing her eyes. “Everything alright?”

Paige looked over at her and smiled, brushing a piece of hair from Azzi’s face. “Of course.” Then she slung her arm over the back of Azzi’s stool and kissed the top of her head.

Amy plated up some scrambled eggs, toast, and a bowl of fresh fruit, sliding them in front of the girls. “Here we go. Fuel up, lovebirds.”

“Thanks so much,” Azzi said, sitting up straighter and grabbing a fork.

“Of course,” Amy said, grabbing her keys from the hook near the door. “I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll meet you both back here at four, okay? Then we’ll head over to the high school.”

“Sounds good,” Paige said, taking a bite of toast.

“Oh, and—can you two pick up the cake at two? I’d ask Ryan but, well, I don’t trust him not to forget it in the trunk.”

Azzi laughed. “Of course. We’ve got it.”

Amy blew them both a kiss on her way out. “Bye, you two. Have fun today!”

“Bye, Mom!” Paige called after her.

Azzi chewed a bite of eggs, then glanced sideways. “Cake?”

Paige grinned. “You’ll see.”

#pazzi #pazzi fics #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #dallas wings

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howtobecomeadragon · 1 day ago

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watch this! it's the official s3 recap, the one that was available on netflix about a month pre-s4, to refresh audiences on what they needed to remember from s3.

note what it is highlighted about byler. note what is (and isn't) highlighted about mike and el.

youtube

about 1 of the 5.5 minutes here is dedicated to reminding the audience that everyone around mike and el think their relationship sucks and that it pisses off hopper and hurts will.

they don't go into el dumping mike and his efforts to make up, they don't cover the "i love you" issues. any positives of mike and el are narrated over or bookmarked by negativity. almost like their relationship drama and romantic moments and "i love you's" aren't the point (even though it played a big role in s4!!! a recap on mike blurting out that he loves el, that he has trouble saying it to her face, and then el saying she loves him when they say goodbye would've been helpful for forgetful audiences pre-s4!!! but no. mike finally telling el her loves her in s4 was not the point, not the end goal, so it wasn’t included).

no, in the effort to recap 444 minutes, condense it into the most important 5 minutes, a fifth of that time is spent showing how much will cares about mike. they included "it's not my fault you don't like girls" and "what did you think, really? that we were never gonna get girlfriends? that we were gonna sit in my basement and play games for the rest of our lives?" "yeah, i guess i did."

they included that!! over mike or el's "i love you's"!!! they went, "instead, pay attention to the will and mike drama!!! doesn't will seem jealous and sad? doesn't mike seem weird? get excited to find out where that goes. will confirmed he wants to spend the rest of his life playing games with mike, watch out for a similar line this season."

mm hmm. i see you, netflix. and i'll be paying attention to what their s4 recap decides to focus on too.

#byler #s3 recap

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yup-thats-me · 18 hours ago

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—smitten • Y. Jeong

𐙚pairing; ❝bf!Yunho x gf!reader❞ 𐙚summary; ❝Yunho yearns for you and maybe his prayers will be answered❞ 𐙚warnings; ❝hurt comfort❞ 𐙚a/n; ❝its not that well-written, but I do hope you like this nonnie<3❞

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"I swear I'm going to smother you in kisses till you die," Yunho groans into the call. "Just let me get back."

Y/n giggles at her boyfriend's frustration. "Awe, but it's still three weeks away, love," she teasse.

"Don't. Remind. Me." He threatens with a tight-lipped smile.

How many times has it been that Yunho had to leave you for tours? Countless. Being together for four years and yet your hearts yearned like the first time he had left all those years ago.

"I'll be back before you can say "I love you,'" Yunho had said at the airport then, eyes teary but still trying to make you laugh.

But now, some would say the two have gained experience, that you two would be used to the distance, but no. One really can't get used to that, Y/n would argue.

So when her man left for tour again, it still ached. Even if there were no tears shed this time, the atmosphere was still heavy. Heavy when Yunho had kissed Y/n goodbye just before boarding the plane. And the call after landing was heavy too.

Sighing deeply, Yunho shakes his head. "Anyway, how was your day, baby?" he tries to change the subject.

Y/n smiled at the man, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy. Even when he was sad, he still tried to make her smile and that made the girl yearn for him even more.

"Yunho," Seonghwa calls out as he enters the room. The older one smiling when he hears Y/n talking on speaker. "Hey, Y/n!"

Y/n calls back, voice cheery. "Hwa, hello!"

Yunho smiles as the two of you chat before he remembers. "What is it, hyung?"

Seonghwa too had forgotten why he was here while talking to Y/n about the stupid things they were doing. He hits Yunho once he remembers. "The delivery is here!''

Yunho groans again, tipping his head back against the chair. "WHy can't Wooyoung go to pick it up?"

"You lost, remember?"

"Oh?" Y/n asks. "What delivery, yuyu?"

Seonghwa answers for him. "Just some food, Y/n," he glares at Yunho before speaking to Y/n again. "Your man's getting all lazy, ya know!"

Yunho chuckles. "Can't blame me, hyung. My powerhouse is not here," he pouts.

Y/n giggles on the other end at her boyfriend's antics.

"I have to hang up! Bye!"

And silence. Yunho stares at the blank screen, blinking. "What? No 'I love you's'?" he mumbles.

Seonghwa smirks, hitting him playfully on his head. "You can call her later, loverboy. Get the delivery."

Without a choice, Yunho sighs as he gets up. "You guys' gonna kill me, making me do all the work round here," he mutters like an old man as he leaves the room.

As soon as Seonghwa heard the hotel room click, Seonghwa quickly runs to the other's room, calling them to come down. The men, read that as two child San and Wooyoung, and other men, they take the stairs, silently rushing down the building, phone already in hand.

Yunho stands on the road with a hand resting on his waist as he looks around for the delivery man. In fact, what delivery? The street was as empty as his heart without Y/n, Yunho thinks.

Then a call from an unknown number. "Hello."

"..."

"Hello? Is it the food delivery?" Yunho tries again.

Then the other person speaks. "Turn around," their voice is incredibly deep, Yunho notes.

"Where?" He asks when he turned to his left.

"No, on your right."

Yunho turns again to avail. "I can't see you man! You're messing with me–"

"You can't see me, yuyu?"

The voice came from his back. Turning around in a flash, Yunho almost drops to his knees when he sees Y/n standing there in sweats and a cap covering her pretty face. Even if Yunho can't see her face, he'll be damned if he mistakes the love of his life for some stranger.

It's really her.

As if to be assured of it, Yunho takes slow steps towards her. He gently lifts up the cap, breathing sharply as her face comes in full view.

Yunho hugs her close, spinning in circles as he did so. "You're here!" He excalaims, "Why are you here?!"

Y/n giggles, hitting him on the chest. "You don't want me here?"

"May I be damned for ever thinking that," Yunho says in all seriousness.

When he finally sets you down, Yunho was just inches from your lips when the sudden commotion of men cheering from the building stops him.

"Guys!"

The group erupts in cheer, jumping as if they were the ones getting married. Wingmen for life for sure.

Yunho laughs as he makes an attempt at hiding you from their cameras. "No point, dude," San laughs.

"Got that on camera," added Yeosang.

"The perfect blackmail material. He's so smitten!"

And Yunho swears to the heavens above that he is indeed, smitten with you. And forever will be.

do not copy, steal or translate my work on any other sites. All rights belongs to yup-thats-me™ on tumblr

⋆｡°✩reqs are open⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

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kxsagi · 1 day ago

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hihi u need to hear me out on this ok

i think its pretty obvious im a BIIIIG fan of grumy x sunshine so imagine v. expressive reader who also happens to be a professional swooner (constantly compliments ppl and swoons over them, like they'll see someone do smth cool and immediately start swooning temporarily & it's so obvious because they don't hide their feelings) with post-wc kunigami who is mostly the victim to being the only one who can tolerate them enough to be around them most of the time

i think it'd be rlly cool to see how two people (reader & kunigami) with opposite personalities can fall in love with the other despite their differences.

“𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝”

a/n: oooh more kunigami fics i see (i'll gladly write for him bc i know a certain someone loves kunigami)

there are many mysteries in life. how the pyramids were built. why post wild card! kunigami came back from the wild card arc looking like a final boss. and most importantly, how someone like you, swoony! reader, ended up orbiting around him like a caffeinated planet circling a dead star.

“oh my gosh,” you whisper-squeal, clutching the goal post like it’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing. “did you see that header?! ren, i swear, you make physics look like a suggestion. your neck muscles deserve their own fan club.”

kunigami, who’s jogging off the field after practice, doesn’t look at you. or anyone. he just grabs a towel from the bench, wipes his face like it personally offended him, and grunts. it might’ve been a “thanks.” or a “please perish.” hard to tell.

to everyone else, that grunt would be a conversation ender. to you? that grunt is a legally binding contract to keep talking.

“seriously though,” you say, speed-walking next to him with zero shame. “how do you not walk around breaking door frames with those shoulders? you could do anything. break walls. carry me. emotionally ruin me.”

he keeps walking. you keep talking. this is your dynamic.

at some point, everyone else has learned to leave you two alone. they tried, truly, to keep up with you. but you are too much – too bubbly, too expressive, too prone to clutching your chest dramatically when someone opens a water bottle in a hot way. you are a human romcom montage, and kunigami is the only one with the emotional stability to endure you for more than ten minutes.

“why do you follow him around?” reo had asked once, watching you beam at kunigami while he lifted dumbbells like they were paper towels.

“because he’s my muse,” you replied, hand over your heart. “have you seen him? he’s a greek statue come to life. if i don’t swoon, who will?”

reo blinked. “you’re insane.”

“and in love!” you shot back, twirling dramatically before crashing into a weight rack.

kunigami had dragged you away by the collar like a misbehaving puppy. no words. just that stern, long-suffering look like he was questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

but the thing is, kunigami doesn’t hate you.

which is saying a lot, because kunigami, these days, looks like he hates most things. joy. peace. emotions. breakfast cereals with mascots. he doesn’t even talk much anymore – just grunts, glares, and occasionally sighs like the weight of the world rests on his monster-sized traps.

but for some reason, when it comes to you, he tolerates. no, endures. worse: lets you stay.

it’s almost funny how opposite you are.

he wakes up at 5 AM for protein and silence. you wake up at 9 AM singing about the birds outside your window like a disney princess with a caffeine addiction. he bench presses his trauma. you process yours by giving his biceps names.

“i think i’ll call this one hercules,” you say one afternoon, poking his right arm while he’s tying his shoelaces. “and this one hector. very greek tragedy. very my type.”

kunigami doesn’t even flinch. he just yanks the knot tight and mutters, “go bother someone else.”

“no one else will let me,” you sigh dreamily. “they all tell me to shut up. you’re the only one who tells me to bother someone else, which is basically a soft ‘stay’ if you think about it.”

he stares at you. expression unreadable. you stare back with heart eyes so aggressive it’s practically harassment.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you whisper.

he walks away. you follow him like a devoted cult member.

and guess what? the breaking point doesn’t come with fanfare. no dramatic kiss. no enemies-to-lovers arc climax. no moment of him pushing you against a locker and growling “you talk too much” before your lips crash together like a bad wattpad fic.

no. the moment it changes is stupid. absurdly mundane.

you’re both at a vending machine after evening practice. kunigami’s trying to get a protein bar. you’re trying to decide between grape juice or being annoying. grape juice loses.

“you know,” you say casually, leaning against the machine, “if this was an anime or romcom or whatever, this is where i’d pretend to trip into you and then fall in love forever.”

kunigami doesn’t look at you. “don’t.”

“i wasn’t going to!” you protest, flailing dramatically. “i respect boundaries. mostly. but if you did fall in love with me forever, hypothetically, i’d be really good at being your trophy wife. i have practice. i once married a body pillow in vegas.”

he glances at you. finally. slow. deadpan. “you’re exhausting.”

you clutch your chest. “say it again.”

and that, somehow, makes him laugh. not a full laugh. not even a real laugh. just a snort, a half-smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, like his face is trying not to betray him.

and in that moment, you realize something genuinely terrifying: you’re not just joking anymore.

because under all the swooning and sparkling eyes and anime-tier speeches about his delts, you actually like him. not just the looks. not just the grumpy energy. but the weird kindness he shows in quiet ways. the way he watches over people without saying a word. how he puts up with your chaos without ever once calling you annoying. how he sees you, not just as comic relief, but as you.

and worse? you think he might like you, too.

“you never shut up,” he tells you one night, sitting beside you on the rooftop after practice.

you’re sipping from a juice box and kicking your feet like a child. he’s watching the skyline like it personally offended him.

“i do shut up,” you reply. “just not around you. you make me nervous. it’s easier to talk than feel.”

he glances at you, quiet for a long beat. “you’re not nervous,” he says. “you’re fearless. annoying. bright.”

“aww,” you sigh. “you’re flirting.”

he doesn’t respond. just keeps watching the stars. but when you lean against him, all sunshine and sugar and a thousand different versions of too much, he doesn’t move away.

you smile to yourself. it’s not perfect. it’s not poetic. but it’s real.

and if kunigami’s okay being your gravitational anchor, then you’re more than happy to orbit forever.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #kunigami rensuke #rensuke kunigami #kunigami rensuke x reader #rensuke kunigami x reader #sunshine state of mind

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bililyy · 15 hours ago

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Best friend!Billie - Pt2

This has a Drabble at the end that you guys will like lol

Warnings! Cheating, probably homophobic parents, Reader is a bit confused, Billie desperate for Reader's love, no use of Y/n

read the first part, so this one makes more sense.

Masterlist

"He's no good for you."

"You don't even know him!"

"No one is good enough for you."

Bestf!Billie who reluctantly agrees to meet you, but only because she needs to find flaws to show you.

"Billie, please smile."

"What? I don't want to smile at him, I want to smile at you."

Bestf!Billie ho almost rolls her eyes forever as soon as she sees him walk into the restaurant with a stupid smile.

She hates the fact that he just kissed the lips that should have been hers.

"I've heard so much about you."

"I wish I could say the same." She smiles innocently.

Yes, she thinks she's being tortured by being in this situation.

"Don't interrupt her!" She says as soon as your boyfriend interrupts you as you excitedly tell about your day.

"She talks too much."

"You talk too much!" She says pointing her finger in his face

Well, that left an awkward atmosphere for the rest of their night together.

"Can we kill him?" She says watching his back walk away.

"Billie!"

You already know that she showed you all of his possible "flaws", right?

"He has ugly hands."

"He interrupted you twice, damn it!"

"He didn't even bring you flowers."

"He didn't even offer to take you home."

"You didn't leave Billie."

"It doesn't matter, he should have tried harder."

But hey, a man wasn't going to stop her from being close to the love of her life, so it was okay.

Best friend Billie! who always puts on a lot of perfume when she comes to see you, so when your boyfriend asks:

"Is that perfume new?"

You'll always answer:

"No, I was with Billie before I came here."

He doesn't suspect you, but he finds it strange how attached to you she is.

"Does she... sleep in bed with you?"

"Yes, we're best friends!"

Best friend Billie! Who starts doing... not so friendly things to you.

She pulls you into her lap when you walk by and sits hugging your waist with her nose in your neck.

She keeps on like that.

Giving you little kisses on the mouth sometimes

Pulling you into her lap.

Sometimes even kissing your neck and leaving a soft mark.

You had to say something, you know you should but... it's such a good feeling.

Until one day...

Best friend Billie is lying on top of you (as always) and starts to caress your belly under your shirt.

"Billie, what are you doing?" You answer with your eyes closed.

She gets up a little and is inches from your face.

"I love you." She says seriously, those blue eyes staring at you as if you were her whole world.

"I love you too." She closes her eyes at that.

That's not what she meant.

"No... I love you much more than that, please break up with him."

"What? Billie that's-"

"I promise to treat you much better, I promise I'll take care of you." She says kissing your cheeks.

"Where does this come from?" You ask a little incredulously.

"My love for you? It's always been there." She smiles a little and gives a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"Billie I can't... fuck, I can't break up with him like this now." She looks at you sadly.

"Why not?"

"Billie I don't know how I feel about liking a girl and... my parents like him." You say the last part quietly and Billie feels her head spin.

"It's okay you... you don't have to figure all this out right now just... let me have you."

"What?"

"I don't care that you're with him I just... yes, I really want to hold your hand and kiss you in front of everyone but... if you're not ready for that yet, I'll wait for you, but don't push me away."

"Billie, this is wrong."

"Let's solve this together, please give me a chance." She begs with her eyes, and damn you are so in love with those eyes.

"I don't know what to do."

"Let me love you, my love." She says, leaning down and kissing your neck, and you sigh, smelling her hair.

And wow, you've never felt so good having someone's hands on you like this.

She gets up from your neck, and speaks against your cheek.

"Please? I promise he won't find out." She approaches your mouth, and waits a while, giving you the chance to move away from her, but is surprised to feel you pressing your lips to hers in a kiss (which she returns immediately) full of sighs and longing.

Damn, where have you gotten yourself into, huh?

Maybe I'll do a part 3 with a one short lol

Thank you for your support and affection, please comment what you think 💕

#billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #lesbian #billie eilish #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie x reader

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criminalyapping · 3 days ago

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pull you in, it's alright

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: melissa king x f!reader

a/n: her <3 wuh luh wuh time and happy pride

this might come as a surprise but i think dr king is my favorite pitt character. i love her sm

inspired by/title from sofia by clairo

warnings: talking about pittfest, talking about the ramifications of working in healthcare

"Call your loved ones now if you need to," Dr. Robby says to the group of hospital personnel, "I can guarantee you cell service will soon be overwhelmed."

Mel feels a mix of fear and anxiety wash over her. On her first day in the ED, and she gets a mass casualty event; just her luck.

Taking her attendings' advice to heart, she quickly pulls her phone out of her pocket and dials the number of Becca's day center. She speaks quickly arranging a later pick-up time, and assures Becca that she will be there to get her when she's done.

She hangs up with a sigh, seeing the others around her still on the phone.

Before she can think too much more about it, she dials your number as well.

"Hi, Mel!" you greet as you pick up the phone.

"Hi," she greets.

"What's up, how is your first shift going? Are you done already?" you ask, checking the time.

"Um-" Mel says into the phone. She pauses, clearing her throat. "Yeah, it's going good. I just, we're going into emergency protocols for a mass shooter and, they gave us time to- call people, and I," she pauses.

You stay silent, waiting for her to finish her thought.

"I called Becca's center but I wanted to talk to you, too." she says.

"I'm glad you did," you say into the phone. "Are you going to be okay?" you ask her.

"Yeah, yeah," Mel assures, picking at the skin around her thumb. "Listen, I um, I have to go, but, thank you."

"Any time," you say warmly, "Will you call me later? When you and Becca get home?" you ask.

"Yeah," Mel agrees, "I don't know what time, though." she warns.

"I'll stay up," you implore, "please?"

"Yeah, I'll call you." Mel agrees.

"Okay. You've got this, Mel." you tell her.

"Thanks," she smiles, looking up and seeing the hospital staff congregating once again. "Talk to you later," she bids goodbye.

"Talk to you later." you agree, hanging up the phone.

You turn on your ringer and place the phone on your kitchen counter, already waiting for her call.

You had met Mel during her time at the VA, when you came to visit your grandfather. Mel joined in on a few Uno games with you and him during his admission, and as he was discharged, you asked if she would ever want to do something together.

You weren't explicitly flirting, moreso testing the waters and seeing how she would react to it. You weren't blind, Mel is stunning, but you had seen her care for your grandfather, her earnestness in which she approached life, and you knew that you wanted her in your life; in whatever way she would have you.

Mel had stuttered, eyes glancing around the room as she battled between wanting to know you and feeling restricted by her professionalism.

"Yeah, yeah," she had finally said, throwing a smile your way and entering her phone number into your contacts.

You and Mel had formed a fast friendship, based on mutual interest in the others' lives and a genuine desire to spend time together.

You think that Mel might be the best person you've ever known. Not in a loud, watch-me-be-good way, something much softer. Mel is selfless, determined, kind - nice without strings, and sincere in each and every interaction with others.

You're in a very special spot in your friendship with Mel. Those precious moments between friendship and love. You're not in a rush to change anything, but you can feel the simmering tension in the small moments you share with her.

You feel it when she rests her head on your shoulder, hair down after work and tickling your arm. You feel it when she laughs, loud and unabashed before covering her mouth with a hand. You feel it when your hugs linger just a bit too long, and when she pulls back and looks at your face as if to memorize your features.

Knowing that she thought of you when prompted to call her people gave you a warm feeling.

You go about your Friday night business, eating dinner and relaxing, all while unable to stop thinking about how Mel is doing.

You get a call at about 9:45, while invested on your latest read on the couch.

"Hey," you greet after scrambling to pick up the phone.

"Hi," Mel sighs into the phone.

"How are you?" you ask her.

"Good, yeah," she tells you. "I'm about to go pick up Becca. What are the odds she still wants to get dinner?" she jokes.

"Ohh, I think it's pretty high," you laugh.

Mel chuckles into the phone, but doesn't say anything else.

"How did tonight go?" you ask her gently.

"Fine," Mel says, her voice cracking around the word. "I'm, um, I'm not sure I want to talk about it."

"Okay," you agree softly. "What can I do for you?" you ask.

"Just this," she breathes into the phone.

"So easy to please," you tease, pulling a laugh out of Mel.

Mel bids you goodbye as she approaches Becca's center, promising to see you in a few days when she has some off days.

Mel comes over on Wednesday after you get home from work, being her first day off since she started on Friday.

You open the door, smiling as you give her room to step into your apartment.

As soon as her shoes are toed off, you throw your arms around her in a big hug. She stumbles back a step, laughing as she returns your embrace.

"Hi," you greet, pulling back slightly to see her, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she says in her low tone. "Did you finish your book?" she asks.

"Nooooo," you admit, "I still have a few chapters left."

Mel smiles, moving further into your space and leaning against your kitchen counter.

"How has the emergency room been?" you ask her.

"Do you want to take a walk?" she asks,

That is Mel-speak for she wants to talk, but she wants something else to do simultaneously.

"Yeah," you agree, moving to put your shoes on as Mel does the same.

You're both silent as you step out of your door and take off towards the park a few blocks away from your apartment.

"It's been good," she starts. "I really like the people, and I've already gotten to do a bunch of stuff I've never done."

You glance over at her, the evening sun filtering through her hair and illuminating her profile.

"That's awesome," you tell her, "It sounds like you're gonna become an even better doctor."

"Yeah, it's awesome," she agrees, although her tone betrays that she doesn't believe it.

You stay silent, walking beside her as you let her piece together her thoughts.

"It's just, it's been hard." she finally says, voice cracking.

"There's, um, there's a lot of people. And I can't stop thinking about them?" she says with her tone indicating a question, as if she was asking you if that was odd. "It's the worst day of their lives, for some of them, and I see," she pauses, still walking, and takes a deep breath. "I see a lot of them. A lot of people having the worst day of their lives. It's very, uh, different from the VA."

"It is," you agree. "You're feeling out of your depth." you reflect.

"Kind of?" she agrees.

"Do you want to hear what I think?" you ask.

"Yeah," she says, shooting you a smile.

"I think that having someone like you there on the worst day of my life would help." you tell her genuinely. "It's obvious that you care a lot, Mel, and having someone who cares probably helps more than you know."

Mel smiles, quickly wiping away a tear that had fallen from her eye.

"Thank you," she says quietly. Mel looks like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "I think you might be biased, though," she laughs.

"What do you mean?" you giggle.

"I mean," she blushes, "of course you would want me there."

You cackle out a laugh at her statement.

"What, am I wrong?" she asks, returning your laugh.

"No, no, you're not wrong." you tell her. "You're very special to me." you say.

"Yeah?" Mel asks.

"Yeah," you tell her earnestly.

Mel smiles again, but her expression is tinged with a hint of confusion.

You continue walking, both bathed in the evening sunlight. You breathe in the fresh smell of the park and feel the warmth of the sun on you skin.

Mel steps in front of you, making you screech to a hault suddenly.

"Am I..." she starts, looking nervous. "What's, um, what's happening?" she asks. "Am I reading all of this wrong?" she asks.

"No, Mel, not at all." you tell her with a gentle smile.

Mel gently shakes her head, a disbelieving smile and expression taking over her face.

"What," she starts, clearing her throat, "what are we... doing?" she asks haltingly.

You think for a moment. Before responding, you reach down and take Mel's hand in your own, lacing your fingers together.

"I don't know," you say thoughtfully, "I just want you." you tell her simply.

Mel's wide eyes dart around the surroundings, never quite stopping on your face.

She surges forward, catching you off guard as she presses her lips to yours in a clumsy kiss.

Just as fast as she was there, she had pulled away.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized.

Instead of responding to her - frankly very silly - apology, you kiss her again. Her hands cup either side of your neck, her thumbs brushing against your jaw.

You kiss, just a soft press of her lips to yours, until the grins taking over your faces stop you.

Neither of you say anything as the kiss ends. You don't have to.

#she's yapping!!!#she is me #the pitt #the pitt imagine #mel king imagine #melissa king imagine #melissa king x reader #mel king x reader

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tinygameralec · 2 days ago

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The magnificent @redheadsramblings gave me permission to write and post this little follow-up to their wonderful shortfic here.

---

There's a long beat of silence as the group takes in the bizarre vision of a drunk Emmrich Volkarin lying on the floor. What, the tension says, the absolute fuck?

And then Bellara is on her feet, getting everyone's attention with a sharp clap. "Alright! Taash, can you carry him? We need to get him to bed. Davrin, you and Assan are on Manfred distracting duty. Lucanis, Lace, can you clean up? Great, thanks."

Nobody thinks to argue. They've all just been reminded, very firmly, that Bellara has built her life around the Veil Jumpers and the long string of crises and chaos that is exploring Arlathan. Neve especially is thinking about how she normally works alone, and that they don't worry about her unless she hasn't turned up in a week.

Bellara is kind of scary.

Taash carefully picks the Professor up, and Davrin goes hunting for Manfred with Assan leading the way. Cleaning up happens. And Bellara leads the way to his rooms, and the bed just big enough for two if they like each other very much that hides behind his bookcases.

She knows that the Professor likes Rook very much indeed, and Rook likes him back just as fiercely. She saw Rook's face when Ghila'nain was talking about what she wanted to do to him. She's glad that the false god screamed when Lucanis killed her. She deserved more, just for threatening her friends. There wasn't enough punishment in all the world for what she'd done to the Wardens and D'Meta's Crossing.

"Weird," Taash says when they see where Emmrich sleeps, but it's not their normal tone. It's sad, and tired, and Bellara understands.

"Thanks, Taash," she says as they carefully lay him down on the mattress. The bed isn't huge, but it's comfortable, and he naturally gravitates into the dips in the mattress. It looks wrong without Rook cuddled up next to him.

"Yeah. I'll... go keep Manfred busy, I guess. He's not bad, for a weird little magic skeleton." Taash looks back in the doorway, opens their mouth. Then frowns and leaves, and Bellara wonders what she wanted to say.

"Sorry Professor." She carefully unpins his collar, eases his boots free, carefully undoes the buttons on his waistcoat. He wouldn't want any of them to see him like this, she thinks, but she hopes they've been friends for long enough that he'll forgive her.

He wakes as she shifts him to try and remove his sash, and looks at her with bleary, miserable eyes. He's not really conscious, she thinks, not with the amount of alcohol he put away earlier, but in that weird stage of awake-asleep that lies on the edge of it.

"Bel...?" he manages, and he sounds so miserable it hurts. "Why 'm I... Should be looking. Need to find Rook."

"Professor," she says, but he keeps mumbling. She can see him getting ready to launch himself out of bed and back into it, and she can't stand it. "Professor!"

He looks at her in surprise.

"Please," she continues, because if she pauses to think about what she's saying she'll lose it. "Please, get some sleep. We'll wake you if we make any progress, I promise. You know I keep my promises."

"...You do." He seems more lucid, but more tired. She hates it. "But I have to help them. I... I need to tell them I was wrong. I was stupid. I love them so much and I said such terrible things! I can't-"

"Stop!" She feels tears hammering behind her eyes, and forces them down. "Please... Professor. Emmrich." He gasps, and she realises she's almost never called him by name. She needs to fix that.

"Rest, please." She takes his hands in hers and squeezes firmly. One of his rings digs uncomfortable into her palm, but she doesn't let go. "You haven't slept since we lost them. And I'm scared. We're all scared. But we're not going to help them by hurting ourselves. They deserve our best, don't they?"

"They do." Emmrich lays his head down, eyes wet. His hands tremble in hers. "Stay with me until I sleep?"

"Of course."

#Fuck the sacrifice #There was no sacrifice #Lace and Davrin both live #Fight me #Emmrich Volkarin #Bellara Lutare #Bellara is the best friend

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ycoil · 4 hours ago

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"#me and who" you forreal pal? it is actually just us on my post Lol ignore all those other notes, they dont mean nothin, dont worry about the ocean of bodies pulsing and writhing in all of their futility, wistful thinking will merely lead you into your dreams, you gotta get the fuck out there and do something, you just hit my line and now we are linked, this is only about U and me, i love you, i am going to rename you and you will wear it happily because the rest of the world has lowkey failed you the whole way leading up to this point, i love you so much that no words could ever really broach the reality, you can only find out in the way my hands desire you, devouring your haptics, grasping, caressing, holding, im going to grip you so hard now that each one of my fingers is going to be painted red into your nerves, signals traipse their way up your spine and into your memory, i'll live forever there yknow, a pathway carved into your mind, youll hold that until you die, each recall further instantiating the neural pattern that leads you there, thats just the nature of life and connection, interface with me, ill play your cord like an instrument until your eyes roll right into the back of your head and you see the truth, comma, Lol

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andreafmn · 3 days ago

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Requite | Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: When everything seems to fall into place in Forks, Washington, a string of mysterious deaths call the attention of both vampires and werewolves in town. As the redheaded vampire returns with her mind set on revenge, (Y/N) and Bella Swan find themselves in the center of danger once again. With secrets still lingering between them about their past best friend, they will find themselves stuck in a whirlwind of love, betrayal, and the hardest choices they’ll have to make. But one thing is certain: no one will go a day without a taste for vengeance.

<- Previous

“I transferred some money into your account,” Charlie said as he fussed over his daughter's jacket. “I also put some cash in your purse in case you guys get too hungry.”

“Dad, I’m not five,” (Y/N) chuckled. “And we're just gonna go out to find a dress. We'll be back in time for the party.”

“Well, I know. I just want to make sure you girls have everything you need,” he said. “And I want to make sure you're feeling okay about the talk you're gonna have with your sister.”

Right. The talk. The week had come and gone faster than (Y/N) could have anticipated, and somehow the weekend had arrived. (Y/N) was ready to tell Bella everything, but she wasn’t quite ready for the aftermath. She wasn’t ready for pity, sadness, or concern. Hell, she didn't even want anger. All she wanted was to be done with the situation. “I think I'm good,” she smiled, trying her best to calm her father's worries. “After talking to you and Billy, I'm ready.”

“Well, I'm glad, sweetheart,” Charlie sighed, hugging his daughter tightly.

“You ready to go, (Y/N)?” Bella asked as she sauntered down the last stairs. “We got a bit of a drive.”

“Yeah, just done.”

“Alright,” she said. “We'll call when we're done, dad.”

“Be safe, girls,” he said before placing a kiss on the top of both their heads. "And grab some breakfast, alright? Make sure you eat.”

“Yes, dad,” Bella chuckled. “We'll see you later.”

“Alright, see you soon,” he said as they walked toward the door. “Love you, girls.”

“Love you, too,” they yelled back.

The dynamic between the three Swans had shifted for the better. For the first time in a long time, they were vocal about their appreciation for each other. They had become a unit and less of three ships navigating the same sea. Finally, they were sailing together. Even if it was only for a short amount of time, they were a unit.

“I'm thinking we could grab a bite at Granny's Diner,” Bella said halfway into the drive. They had been sitting in comfortable silence. Biding their time to see who would speak first. “They have some outside dining, and it might be the best place to talk. Unless, you know, you wanna do it now.”

“I'll wait for the restaurant,” (Y/N) answered. “Don't really feel like talking about life before I've gotten some food in my stomach.”

“It won't change the story,” her sister shrugged. “We could save ourselves an hour of coffee sipping.”

Truthfully, (Y/N) wanted to wait until they were in a public space to avoid Bella turning the car around and killing Jacob herself. She could sense her sister was itching for the truth, unravelling under the weight of all the theories her mind was coming up with, and none of it would ever compare to reality. The moment she found out, there was no telling how she would react. “I just need the time to compose myself,” she said. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” her sister smiled, reaching over to take her hand in his. “I just don’t want any more secrets between us, (Y/N). I want the rest of this year to be better. For you. For me. For us.”

“I want that, too, Bella,” she replied. “We deserve calm for a while.”

Quiet and calm were, of course, a mirage in Forks. It never lasted long, and it normally meant something big was lurking around the corner. But for a few more hours, even a few more days, they could pretend or believe it could be their future. A world where they were simply two girls, one on her way to college and the other buying her first prom dress.

Thirty more minutes of background music, and the odd nod-off from (Y/N), and Bella was parking across the little diner. There was only one table outside, as though the very universe had conspired to make everything just right. Truth was making its way into the light, and after that day, nothing would ever be the same.

The sisters took a seat and ordered promptly, nursing two mugs neither girl seemed too interested in. Procrastination ran in Swan veins, and they were experts at beating around the bush instead of getting to the point. But that morning, Bella would not tolerate it.

“Okay then,” she said, finally taking a small sip of her tea, “what did Jacob really do?”

(Y/N) sighed deeply, spinning the spoon inside her coffee with too much milk as she braced herself to tell the story. Hopefully, for the last time. “Where do you want me to start?” the girl asked. “From the very beginning, or what Edward and Paul were talking about?”

“From the start,” Bella responded. “I need to know everything he's done to you, (Y/N).”

And, once more, the younger Swan detailed the horrendous couple of months she spent alongside Jacob Black. She started with the good things. Because there were some, even if she could count them in one hand. There had been the crush she had harbored since she was a kid—the fluttering in her chest when she heard his name, the heat that rushed through her body when she was able to be near him, the happiness the idea of being with him brought her. There was the moment she saw him when she came back to Forks—the moment everything had rushed back, the joy and excitement of being in his arms for even a second. And there was their first kiss. Everything was so small in retrospect, but they were moments that had meant the world to her in the past. They were part of her history. She could never deny that.

Still, there was an evil that undermined any of the sweet words, the warm kisses, and the fulfillment of a lifelong wish. And it didn't take long for that dark side to take over. (Y/N) told her sister about the sly and insulting comments he would throw her way, and how good he was at making her feel like she deserved to hear them. Told her about his misconstrued concern for Bella, how he could derail every single one of their conversations with her. She spoke of his belittlement, of his gaslighting, and his unachievable ultimatum.

During all of this, Bella remained quiet, her grip on her mug getting tighter the more her sister talked. She wanted to give (Y/N) the space and time to let everything out, scared that if she spoke up, her sister would close up and hide the rest. As hard as it was, she had to bite her tongue to get the truth. The whole truth.

“After I couldn't get Embry out of the pack, he stopped calling and coming over,” (Y/N) continued. “That's when you and he started hanging out again. Well, you already know that part. When we went to his house, and everything went down, he wanted us to get back together, but I wasn't sure I wanted that—not anymore. Still, he kissed me, and I didn't know how to say no.”

Bella's jaw clenched, but instead of talking, she nodded to her sister to keep going. “He was different then, but so was I,” she sighed. “I didn't feel anything for him, and still, I tried to find what I felt for him in the past. But it was gone, and everyone was telling me to leave him. “I tried many times, but something always happened that didn't let me,” she chuckled dryly. “Until the night after we almost drowned. I was telling him the truth, that I didn't feel the same about him, and I had to let him go. He didn't like that.”

She told Bella how Jacob had only wanted to get close to (Y/N) just so he could get closer to her, how he only tried to fix things with her because Bella had wanted that. Then, he told her how Paul was still keeping things from her, that he was lying right to her face. “I couldn't handle it, and I took off running,” (Y/N) sniffled, feeling tears welling in her eyes as she remembered the moment. “I don't know how long I was running, I just knew I had to get as far away as I could from his house. My legs were burning, and I could barely breathe when I suddenly tripped over a raised root and fell. “I was all alone in the forest. Until I wasn't,” she said. Her hands trembled around her cup, the liquid inside rippling as her nerves took over her body. “Victoria found me.”

“What?!” Bella exclaimed, unable to contain her worry. It dripped from her words and splattered on her face, her hand reaching for her sister's instinctively. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't know how without telling you the whole thing,” (Y/N) replied, her voice cracking as the tears started to fall. “She was close to killing me. She said she wanted to kill me to hurt you, that somehow my death would hurt you and make it better when she killed you. “I was sure that was it. Victoria had her hands around my throat, even slicing into my skin.” She raised her head slowly, revealing the scar that still remained at the top of her neck. “I passed out before I could see anything else, but Paul found me. Sam and Embry joined him later, and they helped him run her out of town. I was asleep until after Harry's funeral.”

“Oh, (Y/N).”

“That's not the worst part, Bells,” she sighed, squeezing her hand to ground herself. “When I was ready to go home, Embry came around and told us something we didn't notice. While Victoria was attacking me, Jake was there.”

“W-what are you saying, (Y/N)?”

“While Jacob was on patrol with Embry, he let visions slip from the night before,” she recounted, her chin trembling with every word. “He was running to the woods after he left you at home. He was angry, Embry said. That's when he happened upon Victoria attacking me. He could have stopped her. At least, scare her long enough for reinforcements to come. Instead, he stayed hidden, watching as she took my life. He'd said it was because he thought if I died, your grief would push you to find comfort in him.”

The older girl remained silent, anger building inside her like a volcano about to erupt. She could see why (Y/N) had decided to talk in a public space rather than in the car. Her veins itched with the need to get back in the car and yell at Jake until her voice was hoarse, hit him until her hands shattered into a million pieces. She wanted him to hurt for all the pain he had put her sister through.

"I wanted to tell you right after it happened, but Alice was there,” the girl sobbed. “You had something more important to get to, and I couldn't stop you. After that, I couldn't find the courage to tell you the truth. I spent days stewing in what I allowed to be done to me, and I felt like an idiot. Something inside me kept telling me that telling the truth would make me look stupid, so I just kept quiet. “And then I found out how everyone had turned on Jake, and I couldn't help but feel responsible,” she continued. “I didn't want to ruin the last relationship he had by telling you the truth, too. So, I kept it to myself and hoped he didn't say anything.”

“(Y/N), there is no one more important in my life than you,” Bella croaked, her throat feeling tighter as her sister continued to talk. “I'm sorry I couldn't see how much you were hurting. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm just sorry for not being the sister you deserve.”

“No, Bells, you have nothing to be sorry for,” the girl said. “I made the decision not to tell you, okay? And I wasn't alone. I had Paul to help me, and dad and uncle Billy. You had your own problems to deal with. I mean, just with the whole vampire thing...”

“(Y/N), you almost died, and I had no idea,” Bella said, tears falling from her eyes. “I could have lost you, and I didn't know. My friend left you for dead, and I didn't know. You came out all this way for me, you almost died, and still you were looking out for me.”

“It's not like I really helped you,” (Y/N) chuckled softly. “I mostly complained to dad about you. If anything, it's Jacob that got you out of this rut.”

“You're wrong,” Bella smiled. “It was you.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm serious,” she said. “Jacob and I mostly talked about you, (Y/N). You knew that going back to Florida would kill me, and instead of letting mom drag me back, you left your life behind and came here for me. I know I haven't said it, and I didn't quite show it when you first came here, but I was so relieved when dad said you were coming to Forks. You're the reason I pulled myself out, (Y/N). Not Jacob. Not Edward. You.”

(Y/N) wanted to argue, but Bella stopped her before a word could leave her mouth. “I know you don't believe me, and you find it difficult to take a compliment,” she chuckled. “But even if you did complain at the start—which I don't really mind—you still showed me that I would be okay without Edward. There are other people out there who love me enough to drop everything and be there for me. You're why it stopped being hard to be here.”

“You're giving me too much credit, Bells,” (Y/N) said, feeling her face grow warmer as the seconds passed. “But I'll take it, nonetheless. I'm glad you're better.”

“And I'm glad you're alive,” she smiled. “And when we get back, I'm killing Jacob.”

The younger girl choked on her coffee at her words, scaring the waitress who had just arrived with their plates. The poor woman left with a red face and a heart that was probably hammering against her chest. Laughter erupted between the Swan sisters, hoping the server didn't hear the last bit of their conversation.

“You can't kill Jake, by the way,” (Y/N) whispered as they started on their food. “I told you everything so we could lay it all to rest. I don't want anyone to go after him to get revenge or whatever. I just want that nightmare to be over. He's had a reckoning of his own creation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Sam's been giving him extra patrols,” she said. Part of her was debating telling Bella what had occurred the weekend before, knowing it would only make her sister's anger grow. But she had promised the whole truth, and Bella was the only person she didn't want to keep things from—not anymore. “He's been sleeping in his garage, too. Billy barely talks to him. And, well, Paul is always just one word away from killing him.”

“How do you know he's sleeping in the garage?”

“Uh, well, when I dropped off Paul last weekend, I went by Billy's to talk to him,” she explained, her eyes focusing on anything but Bella. “As I was leaving, Jake showed up and asked me to talk.”

"(Y/N),” Bella reprimanded.

“He was basically trying to convince me not to talk to you, and he got a bit forceful.” Before Bella could complain or react much, (Y/N) shut her down. What she wanted most was to show her sister that she could handle herself. That the girl she was now was stronger than the one who had arrived to help mend her sister's broken heart. “He just grabbed my wrists, but I freed myself. He was trying to make everything my fault again, but I shut it down. And I am 100% sure he won't even come near me ever again.”

Bella kept quiet for a second, thoughts flashing across her eyes like a blazing fire. “You know, I could probably get Edward to kill him,” she whispered. “Get him out of the state, and poof.”

“Bells!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “You can't joke about something like that. And you can't leave Paul out of it either.”

Both sisters erupted into a chorus of laughter once more, pretending the plan was only a funny quip to pass the time. Maybe she was imagining it, but (Y/N) felt the air around them get lighter. Now that everything was on the table, the dark cloud that seemed to hang above them dispersed and only bright and sunny skies were forecasted ahead—as sunny as it could get. It had been years since either Swan had been hopeful for the future, but at that moment, anything they dreamed of was possible.

But they forgot about the world they lived in.

Once they were done with their food and had apologized to the waitress with a hefty tip, the girls started their walk toward the dress shop. “So,” Bella said, linking her arm with (Y/N)'s, "what color were you thinking for the dress?”

“Well, Paul's favorite color is red,” she said, trying to keep her smile small. “I was thinking of something in that realm.”

“That's a good start,” Bella laughed. “Are you gonna go short or long?”

“Long, I think is best. It is his senior prom.”

“I wouldn't know,” she sighed dramatically. “I didn't go to mine.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't have gone to Italy to rescue your vampire boyfriend,” (Y/N) teased. “Thankfully, mine is more into fistfights than dramatic spectacles.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bella chuckled sarcastically. “He's my ex, by the way. Better get that clear.”

“And is he gonna stay that way?”

“Oh, look,” Bella exclaimed. “We're here!”

The shop was smaller than other stores (Y/N) had been to, but compared to anything in Forks, it had quite the selection. As soon as they stepped inside, they were inundated with sequins and satin, beads and lace, and rows upon rows of fabric. It was slightly overwhelming, and they were completely underqualified for the task, but they had to start somewhere.

Twenty minutes in, and (Y/N) was ready to throw in the towel. There were many red dresses—long, short, slim, puffy. It was more than she could ask for. But none of them called to her. Bella pulled dress after dress, sticking her arm into the overflowing racks and showing her sister options, but none seemed to be the one. They knew neither of them was particularly adept in the fashion department, but the girl at least knew what she liked, and nothing quite fit the bill.

“You have to pick something, (Y/N),” Bella sighed, her arms growing sore from the gowns she had been holding. “At least, try them on. They might look different.”

“They’re just not right,” she complained. “I want to look good.”

“I know, but…” Bella’s words died in her mouth as her eyes fell on a figure across the street. They were unmistakable and stood out like a sore thumb. “What is Alice doing here?”

(Y/N) swiftly turned around, her eyes falling on the vampire who sat on a bench on the other side of the store. She held a newspaper over half of her face in a failed attempt at concealing her identity, but she couldn’t hide everything else. From the clothes to the hair, to the big designer sunglasses that hung on her nose. It was Alice Cullen, and it could be no one else. “Is she following us?” the girl whispered. “Did she hear about our plans?”

“I don’t know,” she answered as she put the dresses back on the rack. “But I intend to find out.”

A/N: in my head, Bella at least lands a good punch on Jacob that doesn't break her hand. but finally she gets to know everything, hopefully nothing else happens. hahaha... right? 🫣 If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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igglemouse · 3 days ago

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Week 2 ~ Blood Simoleons (2.3) ~ Sunday

Today marks the start of my second week here in DSV and I can feel it in my bones, it WILL be a big week. My face debut waits for me and if I play my part well I do believe a few more doors will open for me. My next step is to just make a appearance in a small role on a television show but for now, I'll settle for having my face in a laundry detergent commercial.

As for Bruno, bless is little puppy heart, I'm sure it is a big week for him as well because he's but a dog and I feel like dogs are happy 99% of the time. He sure seems happy having a ball that is bigger than his entire head.

The ding of a few messages are a reminder that this week, the week which for me holds so much promise, could go awry. It's Carina. Which, normally isn't an issue, but after our last conversation I can't help but wonder if there's hidden meanings behind whatever she says. Was she talking about grocery shopping or contraband shipments? Coffee dates or cartel meetings? It's impossible for me to know because to ask would put her in danger. So the best I can do is offer little in reply.

This day, this week, this season, this year, is Mines. Carina is my sister but I will do my best to not let the dark shadow of her life cover the bright lights that belong to me. I have a performance to give and people to entertain and this next one is the biggest one of my life simply because it is my next one. Each role is a stepping stone to the next one and the makeup chair is where the transformation starts. time to get into hair and makeup and start the show!

And so I give the performance of...well, it wasn't great. The broom twirl, for example, ends up bopping me on the head. It wasn't necessary, in fact, it wasn't even called for, I tried to improvise and perhaps tried to do a little too much...but I stuck to the script for the rest of the shoot.

I feel like I deliver the lines well until I see the rather polite smile on the face of the director and not so much of an applause after the shooting ends. This, this was just business for everyone involved. There was no passion here, no desire to 'be memorable' and just a desire to 'get simoleons'. Everyone, but me, was here for a check.

It is okay, at the very least, this commercial features my face which is a step up from the first one. My resume also grows.

Home feels like sanctuary after my minor failure and tending to my garden brought me back down to earth. It's important to remain humble, no matter the success sure, but also the failure. It grounds you.

Pulling out a few weeds here and there was a reminder that even the most beautiful things, like this bush of lilacs, come with a few thorns that need cutting.

Perfection is a myth. A mirage that shimmers away right as you think you will reach it, always teasingly one step away when in reality it was miles away. What matters is resilience, grind, and hustle, and I have more than enough of that.

You guys remember Eliana? Eliana Nores? The shy girl I met at the music video audition? She wants to hang out and come over and I'm more than happy to tell her my address. In this city it feels like most friendships will be transactional as everyone tries to step over everyone else for a bit of fame and simoleons, so, if I meet someone like Eliana who just wants to hang, a genuine friend, well then not much is worth more than that.

I need a bit of comfort food today and what better to fill that role than a tofu taco? Ok, it's less than a regular taco because of the whole 'tofu' thing but it's still a taco and that always makes a meh day just a little better.

Bruno watches me cook and eat and whines the whole time. This is just a thing he does, always begging for food and it is very very hard to say no to the little guy. I just might spoil him.

I do get a chance at redemption in the form of another commercial. This time, I'll be selling medicine. The pay is better, the role is a little bit bigger, and I have the chance to play a doctor. Perhaps it might even lead to a part on one of those medical dramas? One can hope!

Perhaps this is more my speed but it is at least another opportunity.

Eliana arrives with a bit more confidence in her aura. When I met her at the audition she was so filled with nervous energy but I can kind of understand her comfort now. I'm a friend and she's also not auditioning in a skin tight bodysuit.

"This is a pretty nice spot," she observes, taking in my small little spot with sincere appreciation.

"Its what I could afford," I admit, settling into the sole and lonely couch that I own. "Not much room for guests but-"

"It is all you need!" she finishes for me.

"So, any new gigs?" I ask although I feel like I already know the answer.

"No, no, I'm not an actress really? More of a model."

Ah yes, I do remember that about her but it then leads me to another question. "What kind of model? What made you try out for that video?"

"I dunno," she shrugs and seems sincerely asking herself this same question. "Just seemed like a chance to spread my wings and such. I usually do small time modeling you know? Like, I'm that girl wearing that outfit when you shop online for clothes and stuff, nothing major."

"Ahhhh," yes, I could see that. Her face gracing websites and catalogue, beautiful in that accessible kind of way. Approachable and yet extraordinary. None of these are insults of course, she's stunning, but it is in that sort of clay mold kind of girl like...hmm, no matter the style or theme I bet she'd look good in any outfit, if that makes sense? I don't think I could pull off a goth look, for example, but her? Everything looks good on her, that's what I mean, perfect for that kind of modeling work."Have you taken any acting classes or..."

"No no, nothing like that! I don't think I'll be trying out for any more videos! I'll just stick to modeling!"

"Well, you never know," I offer gently because I could see the confidence leaking out of her, almost literally. "Modeling can lead to small roles, which can lead to bigger ones. Never try to understand the 'logic' of this industry."

After she leaves I head straight for my bed, my mind already focused on my big pharma commercial. Thinking of the comedic beats I need to hit and just recognizing that this is another opportunity to prove myself.

This is a city that never sleeps but the same is true of its dreamers. Instead we just close our eyes and keep reaching for the stars...

Index ~ Next

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #ts4 #Sims #Sims 5 #sims legacy #my sims #generation 1 #soot #sims of our time #magdalena monteros #bruno monteros #eliana nores

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makingfanfictionstosleep · 2 days ago

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meeting everyone officially for the first time

sylus

enigmatic, yet very chill, confident smirk plastered on his lips, one eyebrow raising from time to time while observing the rest of the boys, in silence and long term acceptance that he had to share.

he had known - through mephisto's surveillance. and been preparing ever since for this very day.

of course he's the one who brought up the idea of "sharing you" intimately, the rest just stares at him in disbelief (and silently - just in their heads, imagining you pressed up between them, and somewhat they don't reject the mental image, found it attractive even - much to caleb's surprise towards himself)

after he said his piece, he just goes back to silence.

zayne

elegant, poised - looking pristine as ever in his tailored suit, observing the group silently.

says his thoughts as if diagnosing the outcome, expresses in his monotone, "...while i don't particularly envision my relationship with her in this manner, i don't reject the idea... if that's what it takes to be with her. let's just be systematic and organized about this whole thing - calendars and schedule."

rafayel

sitting like a prince, arms crossed and brooding loudly (mostly because caleb is late and he hated waiting, also because thomas is threatening him not to be late again for the banquet in the afternoon), occasionally sends an impatient glare at each of the persons in the room just because he is petty and dramatic, also doesn't like the idea of sharing - but already accepted this whole ordeal cause he is too proud and greedy to let go.

"... as long as you don't cause her to be late, then maybe i'll be generous enough to agree."

"... also, don't you dare agree to adopt a kitten or i'll throw you to the sea."

caleb

in his uniform, rolling his eyes at sassy-rafayel, also glares occasionally at the rest because he rejects (initially) the idea of sharing you - emotionally and physically, aura commanding and self-assured, yet still managed to keep his chill vibe throughout.

"shut up sardine," he said playfully, then turned to the rest, "swear on your life that you'd keep her away from whatever danger lurks around her, from those who wanted her power, those who wanted to hurt her - then i have no qualms."

leans back, thinking that maybe having 5 powerful men surround you is better, anything to keep you safe and hidden from the dangers of the world... even if it means sharing you in all aspects.

xavier

silent throughout, the last to voice out his thoughts, looking at each of them in a calculating way, poised and in silent powerful command.

"we share her equally - no secrets, no jealousy and on her terms," he pauses to let it sink in, "and if she shares about her experiences with each other, we let her and we accept it. also, i don't mind sharing her physically."

the rest stares at him, surprised that beneath his quiet and humble demeanor, lies a different personality that no one ever expected.

and of course, collectively the four of them said, "pervert."

caleb adds, "can't promise that there won't be any fights from time to time, you understand that right, pipsqueak?" he said with a smirk as he lifted his necklace to his lips.

and you? listening through the tracker that you have installed in caleb's necklace, giggling at them and surprised that caleb knew about it, touched that they're making an effort to accommodate this whole set up.

there's a certain warmth in your heart that bloomed - thinking fondly of each of them, how you have created a family in this ridiculous set up.

and your nights will definitely be busy from now on.

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 23 hours ago

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Ordinary Chapter 9, Photorealism

Masterlist Word count: 1.9k Zayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: After seeing his best friend getting married to the love of her life, Zayne can't help but be a little jealous. He never had this feeling before. It's almost like he's longing for someone to love. At the wedding, she introduces him to a colleague who instantly forces him out of his comfort zone. Could this be love?

Author's note: It has been a while! I got sick, then was changing jobs, then got sick again. I've been through the wringer but I'm back and better than ever! Or at least I'll try to stick around until I finish this one.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

Zayne doesn't remember much about yesterday. How he got home, how he got into bed, why his arm feels so numb. None of that matters when he opens his eyes and sees you sleeping in his arms. He's not home, but he feels more than at home. He feels at peace.

In a fleeting moment of butterflies rushing through his whole body he squeezes you a little tighter, breathing in the faint scent of paint and something uniquely you. It's a smell he notices whenever you're close but can never pinpoint. His heart swells as he revels in the feeling of having you close to him.

That's when it all comes back to him in humiliating clarity.

The argument, your ex, showing up at your door in the middle of the night, your help, your giggles, his need for your touch as if it were the only thing keeping him alive. That last one might still be the case. But he had meant to give you space, respect your boundaries, yet his traitorous subconscious had driven him straight to you.

Just when he starts spiraling, you stir.

Terrified to wake you, he freezes up. You simply nestle closer to him, sighing in comfort feeling the warmth of his embrace. And through tired lips, he hears you mumble.

A soft, but distinguishable "Love you."

Zayne feels his face flush. It is decided. This is his place, his spot, forevermore.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

It is hours later when you wake.

Zayne's body is sore, but he doesn't mind. He tried to stay still so you could rest, only moving when you moved in your sleep. His face is inches from yours when your eyes open and you can't help but smile.

Somewhere in your mind you had feared he would leave. You know he is not the type to do that to you, but you worried he might've been embarrassed if he remembered the shower. Then again, he was barely lucid. Maybe he doesn't remember anything from last night.

'I feel like I was uncharacteristically affectionate and needy yesterday.' His voice is low, gravely, tired, as his eyes meet yours.

'Maybe a little bit,' you tease and move closer to plant a sleepy kiss on his lips. 'I didn't mind though.'

Zayne goes a bright shade of red as he nods and takes a deep breath. 'We have a lot to talk about, don't we?'

'We do, but don't you have work today?' Zayne picks up his phone from the nightstand. You had probably put it there. His battery is hanging on for dear life at thee percent as he checks the time and date. That's when it hits him.

He had been at work for nearly seventeen hours. That would explain why he was as tired as he was. Just when he wants to check his schedule, his phone gives out. He carelessly tosses it back on the nightstand. 'Can I use your phone?'

'Sure.' You reach back for your own phone and hand it over. Seemingly locked.

'What's your passcode?' He sees a sliver of doubt in your eyes for a fraction of a second. In his mind, the question was merely functional but he gets that it has to do with trust. Trust that he broke. Trust that you broke as well.

But then. 'It doesn't have a code.'

'What?' You swipe your finger over the screen and he watches as the phone comes to life. 'That is highly irresponsible.' Care dipped in judgement. Suddenly you recognize it. A strange, but welcome, thing.

'You think I want to type in a code when my hands are covered in paint or charcoal?'

'Fair point.' Acceptance without argument. It makes you wonder why yesterday felt so different.

As your eyebrows knit together in thought, Zayne drops the phone and looks in your eyes, searching for something. Something he can't seem to find. Not until you actually look at him instead of staring through him in some kind of haze.

'I need to apologize for yesterday,' he states, as if there is no question about it. This is something he has to do and there's no talking him out of it. You start to open your mouth in protest, trying to admit that you were in the wrong too, but he does not let you. He is faster.

'When you came by yesterday, I had already had a stressful shift. Daniel came in and started making very distasteful jokes about the nurses that I did not agree with. I was angry at him, but I realized it looked like I was angry at you. I'm sorry.'

He looks at you expectantly, hopefully, as if you hold his faith in your next words, like the universe will stop existing if you say you don't forgive him. Truth is, you had already forgiven him the second he came to your door last night. The fact your home felt like home to him too, the trust he put in you to care for him, him not wanting to let you go even for a second. It already felt like an apology and your care and love was you forgiving him.

But there is still something on your chest. 'I am not blameless either. I refused to talk to you and I'm sorry for that. It would've been better to talk it out there.'

He nods in response and pulls you closer against him. Your phone, his schedule, everything outside the sheets long forgotten as a warm feeling grows between the two of you.

It has only been a few weeks since you've started dating, but there's one thing you know for sure.

'I love you, Zayne.'

The three little words lay on the tip of his tongue. You made them sound so easy, so real. He's not sure if he can give himself into this feeling like you do. But for you, he'll try.

'I love you too.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

Despite the hospital being the last thing on Zayne's mind, the second his phone booted up again after charging it started ringing. Greyson, a name you knew as Zayne slipped it into work stories every so often, called him about a surgery he had to be part of and who are you to keep your man here?

What was different is that he seemed to doubt if he should go for the first time since you've started dating, but the look of guilt in his face was too much for you. You urged him to go, knowing how important his work is to him.

You packed him some food while he took a shower. At the door he kissed you goodbye and promised to text you when he was done, but by the time he texted you were gone in your own world, in your studio.

The music turned way up, curtains open letting in all the natural light, your body almost unconsciously swaying along as you focus on the work in front of you. You can't take your eyes off your canvass for even a second, afraid you'll forget the picture you drew in your mind.

It has been years since you've painted a realistic portrait, but you felt inspired. No, not inspired. Possessed. Possessed by the spirit of this morning. Possessed by Zayne's beauty. Your fingers have a featherlight grip on your brush, as if the hairs guide themselves through the paint. Blending, adding, caressing the canvas and paint at will.

Golden light starts falling through the window, illuminating the painting all new and gentle. It must've been hours since you started. You look out the window to see the sun setting and suddenly you realize you are hungry and dehydrated.

The whole day came and went without as much as a second thought. Your body feels heavy, tired, sore in the shoulders. The canvass you worked on was huge. Big enough for you to have to take a few steps back to admire it fully.

When you do, you bump into something and two gently hands appear on your arms to steady you. You don't have to look over your shoulder to know who it is. Instead, you lean back into his touch, but something is off.

'Why the fuck are you painting my doctor?' The hairs on your neck stand up before you can even turn. That sneer you know all too well, and you realize the person behind you is not who you thought they were. You pull yourself away and turn around.

'Daniel? What the fuck are you doing in my house?'

'I still have the key,' he huffs as he looks past you at the canvas. 'Still playing with paint I see.' His voice drips with condescension and suddenly you feel very small. A response you've had to his words for a long time. You thought you grew past it, but apparently not.

'You need to leave,' you state defensively, but you feel your breath hitch in your throat as if all the oxygen is suddenly sucked out of the room.

Daniel smirks and takes a step closer. 'After you came all that way to visit me yesterday? I thought this was what you wanted. To have me back where I belong. On top of you.'

Your stomach turns as you realize the predicament you are in. This is dangerous. 'I came to ask you to change your emergency contact.'

'Sure you did.' He slips past you, standing face to face with your painting. 'You need someone to keep you from being a little whore. I mean, falling for a doctor? That's way out of your league, sweetheart.' He talks down to you like it's the one thing he's put on this earth to do. It's vile, sharp, meant. As if you are nothing more than a sexual object for him to use.

Such a contrast between him and Zayne. It's like night and day. In the portrait you captured Zayne in the morning light, all soft edges and quiet intimacy lined with sleep. And in front of you stands Daniel who's smirk twists into something disgustingly ugly. Distain.

'Pathetic. You'll spread your legs for any many who gives you attention, won't you?' He leans forward, the faint smell of alcohol masked by breath mints walms into your face. He's still a drunkard and a fool. 'I'll admit, trading up to a surgeon is smarter than your usual trash.'

'Leave.' Your eyes fit over to the studio entrance. There stands Zayne and he looks pissed. You've never seen him like this before. His voice rumbles through the room like a command you can't refuse, but there's this strange calm in him. It's icy cold, steady, reliable, dangerously calm.

Daniel laughs in disbelief. 'Oh my God, you've got him believing you actually like him? Shit, I knew you were a manipulative bitch, but this is a whole new level.'

Zayne takes a few steps forward. 'Don't address her. Leave. You are trespassing.'

'It's not trespassing if I have a key,' Daniel sneers back, taking Zayne's words as a challenge. He puffs up his chest, makes himself big, but Zayne is not impressed. He throws a quick look at you, checking in with you, but all you feel is shame. You did not change the locks after you broke up with Daniel because he had "lost the key."

Suddenly, Zayne moves so fast it has you startled. One moment Daniel was puffing out his chest, the next he is pinned against the wall with Zayne's forearm bracing against his windpipe.

'The key,' Zayne demands. Daniel wheezes, unable to breathe properly, but his eyes are full of malice as he throws the key to the floor. Zayne lets him go the second the key hits the floor. No need for useless violence. 'Now leave.'

Daniel huffs. 'Enjoy my sloppy seconds, doctor. She's good at playing house until she gets bored.'

The door slams closed and then there's just silence between you and Zayne.

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