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archieimagines · 2 years

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touching din | din djarin

Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch.

his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.

The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.

It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.

The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.

“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.

The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”

A nod. “That’s a yes.”

“I didn’t hear you come up.”

He nudged his head to the Child, voice soft, “You were having an important conversation.”

And then he did what you loved.

He reached a slow hand out and stroked it over the top of your head, coming to a gentle hold at the nape of your neck, and leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as the cool beskar met between your brows, and you didn’t need to see him to know his eyes were closed too.

A beskar kiss.

You heard a soft sigh through his voice modulator. This was the way his people would show love. He made no move to break away, even from the awkward angle at which he leant. He savoured the moment, breathed with you, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. You weren’t sure if he could feel the goosebumps that his touch rose every time, his fingertips slipping into the lower roots of your hair.

He loved to touch you, you could tell. It wasn’t easy, and these moments were few and far between with his action-packed lifestyle, but the tenderness of these touches clearly meant so much to him. To you.

Without disturbing the occupied bundle on your lap, you reached for Din’s other hand. It hung by his side until you took it in your own, slowly raising it to place your kiss on the knuckles of his fingers. You kept it there a while, backs of his fingers to your lips, his helmet pressed to your forehead. The warmth of those digits filled a void left by the cold beskar. The warmth of human touch.

Long moments slipped by as you absorbed it until you became self-conscious. He hadn’t pulled away, but you weren’t even sure how he’d felt about it with his covered expression, so you let out a resigned sigh and lowered his hand.

But he surprised you.

His fingers opened up instead, laying delicately on the side of your jaw, his similar hold on the back of your neck still in place.

His thumb reached out to meet the corner of your lips, before tentatively, almost shyly, brushing over the centre of them.

He wanted more.

You were only too happy to oblige, lips raising into a delicate peak, placing a tender kiss to the pad of his thumb. Soon, he shifted, placing his index finger there instead. Then his middle. Each of his fingers tapped to your lips, and you made sure to place your affection on the tip of each one, giving in to the urge to smile.

He loved this.

You heard the tinned sound of a sigh before his fingers slipped away once again, soon followed by his reluctant leaning away.

He stood tall above where you sat, visor staying fixed on you. He was just looking. Just peaceful. You shone an easy smile, somehow both cosy and breathless from the moment.

His helmet turned towards the green being on your lap.

He blinked up at Din, and soon, a confused coo filled the cabin.

Din shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” And with that, he settled back into the passenger seat, arms crossing over his chest. “Rest up,” he called, presumably to the pair of you. “We’ll touch down for fuel in six hours.”

Din’s bunk was the epitome of comfort. Cramped, yes. Warm, yes. Especially with two bodies. It’d easily become stuffy in there with the panel sealed while the pair of you shared his thin mattress, and you’d always wondered how he managed to keep his helmet on even in that environment. Or perhaps… He couldn’t feel the stuffiness because of the beskar. Or maybe… He was just always stuffy in there, used to closed air.

Your eyes raised from where you’d had them closed, cheek pressed to the chest of his flight suit to mimic sleep. Early mornings after a long, well-deserved sleep often came like this, and there was something so soul-healing about laying there to absorb his calm, peaceful presence before getting up for what would likely be another day of action.

Watching his visor for long moments, working out if he was still sleeping or looking back at you- it had become somewhat of a hobby. Sometimes, you had convinced yourself, if you looked hard enough, you could see the slightest shape beneath the vision slot of his helmet.

You weren’t sure if they were really there. But, in the dim light of the bunk, you could swear the bridge of his nose casted a shadow that caused a darker shadow inside the mask. His lashes were dark and long, and they fluttered slowly as his eyes closed in steady blinks, looking back at you with such leisure.

But then… Had you made that up?

You squinted, straining your eyes until you were sure— yes, you’d made it up. He was still sleeping.

But it didn’t hurt to imagine he had long lashes and a strong nose, perhaps even a strong brow to match. It didn’t hurt to imagine you could see the faintest outlines of the man you love.

Sated, you turned your cheek back to his chest, eyes falling closed to mimic his slumber. Or at least—

“Morning.”

— What you thought was slumber.

His voice was groggy in the modulator; that intimate morning voice. Deeper, softer than usual.

It brought a smile to your lips. “Morning, my love. You were awake?”

“I have been for a while.” His arm tightened snug around your body in his hold, half atop his. “I like to watch you wake up.”

A soft laugh. “Not creepy, hm?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Silence lapsed with his low tone. All was quiet. Not the whirring of the ship, not the sounds of the forest he’d landed the Crest in the clearing of. Only the delicate air of his breathing inside his mask, catching in the voice modulator so quietly that ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.

The thought stirred a deep intimacy in your chest. No one else would get to hear this. No one else would get to lay with him like this, press against his armour-free body like this. You splayed a hand over the cloth of his chest, toes wiggling from an uncontainable contentment with how your leg rested over his. Not an ounce of beskar between the two of you.

But yet…

Gentle fingertips trailed upwards, over his upper chest, swirling delicate patterns in the creases of his fabric. Your eyes remained closed, focusing everything on him, the warmth that met your touch when you worked past the collar of the flight suit, meeting the skin of his neck.

It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him so. Of course, after this long together, you’d been intimate many a time-- You were both human, after all... But the helmet had always stayed on.

Your fingertips splayed over his throat, and it vibrated with his low hum.

It was no secret by now. He loved to be touched.

You could just imagine him there beneath the visor, eyes closed, brow relaxed. His face caught in a long moment of calm where it was often riddled with worry, or effort from the fighting. Bringing him such serenity like this was the least you could do for him, showing him that he’s loved. So, so loved.

Slowly, your touch crept just a little further up, seeking his jaw. But as your knuckles knocked the edge of his helmet, a gentle hand closed around your wrist in warning. He didn’t need to speak.

Your voice was the softest murmur. “I won’t take it off. Can I just- Feel you?”

He didn’t move, not for a while. You raised your eyes, peering up at him from where you were nestled in his chest, as if you could possibly read his facial expressions.

His hold eased, thumb lazily rubbing over your veins before letting go, and you found a buzz of warmth in your chest. He trusted you with his most precious boundary. Silently, you vowed to always protect that trust.

Delicate fingers worked upwards, feeling for hair from his chin. But, a soft gasp- There was no beard. The gentle prickle of cropped hairs caught your fingerprints as they swiped along his jaw, and you marvelled at it.

“You shave?” The words came out with a soft, amused breath of disbelief, eyes rounded in surprise. For some reason, it’d always made sense that he’d be bearded, long-haired. He had no reason to shave, knowing that no one would ever see, but now that you knew, it clicked.

Of course he’d shave. Din was a particularly thorough person, he was always driving himself forward to do a perfect job of his work: of course he’d take care of himself too.

“If it grows too long, it’s uncomfortable. Catches in the modulator.”

“Ah,” you hummed, brushing along the ridge of his jaw in the confined space. There was something about feeling his jaw move as he spoke, verifying that he really was human, really did have goings-on behind the mask that shielded him from the world. There wasn’t much room in there to move freely, only your fingers able to reach his face, but it was comfortable. You could feel the soft sway of his breath on your touch. “What colour is it?”

“Black. Brown, black.”

You hummed, eyes fixed on his visor lazily, though you weren’t really looking at him. You were visualising as you studied the contours of his lower face, mapping him out as best as you could in your mind, nails brushing through the stubble on his cheek. They trailed towards the corner of his lips, where you noticed the strands got longer. A moustache?

The smile that lifted your face was automatic, beaming at the realisation. You followed the direction of it, above his upper lip, soon finding a little sparse patch on his philtrum. Your eyes drifted closed, imagining the way it might feel to kiss him now that you knew this; how his facial hair would scratch your upper lip, your chin. Perhaps it would be almost sore on your skin if you kissed him long enough, hot enough--

His lips raised to press a real kiss to the centre of your fingers. Slow, shy, even a little clumsy.

A rich gasp pulled from your throat. It was electric to feel his lips on your skin, pressing the affection directly onto you, after these long years of going without.

You let your fingertips lower, finally feeling the shape of his lips, that subtle cupid’s bow as it raised into yet another peck, slow and tender against your touch. Your brows drew together, fighting the emotion that welled up in you, trying to make you cry. You weren’t all too sure why-- this was just- so much. It was so much, to feel him like this, to receive his first kisses like this. Something you’d never even imagined you could have.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured against your fingertips, tone almost a caress. His own fingers raised to brush at the corner of your eye. One must’ve slipped out.

You didn’t even know he was looking at you. Your lashes fluttered open, gaze meeting where you imagined his eyes would be. “I can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re perfect.”

He’d lied to you. He’d massively, irrevocably, intentionally lied to you.

Your jaw ached from your grit teeth as you fought back angry fires in your heart, determined not to cry until you’d pulled your family safely off this forsaken, evil planet.

Din had been tasked with a mission of political undertones involving the spice market. He was masking as a bounty hunter to get information, so this time, the importance was in keeping the right people alive.

Of course, it didn’t work, and those people were now trying to kill you.

Your fingers trembled as you fought against the clock and the jolts of blasters firing at the ship to strap Grogu into his passenger seat. Your eyes were bleary, but you had to focus, secure him in safely. You wouldn’t take anyone’s safety for granted after this stupid stunt.

“Get her in the sky!” Din shouted up through the hatch, pushing his voice so loudly against the fighting and blasters below that it almost outgrew the modulator, his real voice peeking through.

Grogu’s sweet eyes peered up at you, giving a questioning gurgle. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, was probably terrified by it all, and even your demeanour on top of it, but you didn’t have time to explain.

“We need to go!”

You buckled the baby in tightly and fought your emotions to ruffle a quick hand atop his head, hoping to soothe him even a small degree before falling into the pilot’s seat, specifically buckling yourself in, and jamming the engine on with jerky movements.

The Crest resisted you, far too old and rickety by now to be good for quick getaways with a cold engine, but with some slow drags, turbulence from knocking through trees and extra laser blasts from below, she was finally in the air.

You heard the distinctive sound of fighting downstairs, someone being kicked off the ramp at an easy 400 feet altitude, and then the mechanical sound of the ship being closed off again.

The ladder creaked with Din’s climbing, and you didn’t look back to him as he collapsed into the other passenger seat, not ready to talk to him yet. You were still seething, and wouldn’t engage with him until you’d pulled up safely out of the planet’s atmosphere.

Long moments of quiet dragged by. He knew you by now. He didn’t need to see more than the square set of your shoulders to know that he shouldn’t speak yet unless he wanted to upset you more. That, and you still didn’t look at him even as the minutes neared a full hour, focused on getting to the nearest hyperspace route.

He glanced to Grogu, who sat there blinking, clueless as he could be. He must’ve known something was going on, even if he didn’t know what exactly Din had done.

Din reached a gloved hand out, petting lightly on the green boy’s head. He still didn’t speak.

Eventually, your frustrated fires ebbed into a more containable state, you shifted the Crest into light speed, and unbuckled your belt with a heaved sigh. “Downstairs, Din.”

You stood, instructed Grogu not to touch a thing, headed down the hatch, and pointedly avoided looking at Din the whole time.

The body of the ship was chaos. Lazed burns in everything the three of you owned, strewn across the floor and torn from the struggle. Clearly, he’d really had to put up a fight.

It was his own fault.

Boot on metal as he stepped onto the floor beside you. You finally looked at him.

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was exhausted. It was in the way he held himself, the way his arms just hung there by his sides, strong shoulders visibly slouched to the trained eye.

You reeled on him. “Why didn’t you let me in on it?”

Silence.

“Less of that, Din. Speak to me, I need to understand.”

There was a pause before his voice came. Firm, but gentle, as if pointedly trying to keep the peace. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.” You pulled an upturned crate closer and planted yourself on it, trying to keep the buzz in your veins under control, but your tone was clipped nonetheless as you gestured to a crate nearby. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

He sighed and tugged the crate over, perched on the corner of it opposite you. His knees were parted and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he thought through his facts. The best way to make you see that he’d done the right thing.

“I couldn’t tell you my true location because if you knew, your presence would have soiled the plan.”

“So you’re telling me I’m a hindrance.”

“No.”

“That’s certainly what it sounds like-”

“It needed full discretion to work. I’d told them-”

“I can keep fucking secrets, Din.”

“I know you can.”

“So you lied? Told me you were on the other side of town? How was I supposed to get to you if something went wrong?”

He sighed, his head dropping forwards in exasperation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”

“That’s not always possible. You know it’s not! Hunters still have fobs fixed onto Grogu, Din, there’s no escaping that!”

“I couldn’t have you interrupting or we’d all be dead. I’d told them I was alone- no, look at me.”

Your jaw was aching from how you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to look up at that visor, the weight of frustrated tears brimming at your waterline. You gave a small nod.

“Listen,” he started. “I’d told them I came alone. If you’d known my location, you would have interrupted.”

“To save your skin? Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly. We’d both be dead, and the hunters would take the kid.”

“You think I can take care of him without you? We don’t stand a chance without you around, Din.”

He paused. Quiet lapsed, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes, he really gave nothing away, and it was infuriating. He didn’t let you in. He would rarely open up to you about what was going on inside that beskar that hid everything from you. Everything.

Sometimes, you were sure you didn’t even know the man you were committed to. He held so much of the power in this setup. He knew everything about you, everything was done by his thinking, and yet he didn’t need to disclose much at all. He’d keep you in the dark about everything.

What he was feeling, what he was thinking… Hell, even when he smiled at you he kept it to himself. You’d grown to handle those, but this, actively lying to you. As if you couldn’t follow instructions. As if you couldn’t be trusted.

You sighed as the drops in your eyes welled up enough to fall over your cheeks. You pulled yourself off the crate and approached the ladder to the cabin, calling over your shoulder. “Go clean up or something,” you sniffled, “I need a minute away from you.”

The clang of footsteps behind you, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey. Look at me.”

“I can’t, Din.”

“Why not?”

Such a simple question, such an impossible answer. You closed your eyes, struggling to pick out words that might illustrate what’s going on inside. The ache that sank your chest, that made your throat feel heavy with uncried frustrations. None of this was okay. Perhaps after you’d cooled down, you’d be able to see that mask as anything other than a barrier between you, that keeps him safe from your eyes. But for now, you couldn’t bare it. You scrambled to express it, but all you could let out was a strained “It hurts.”

Another moment of silence. Then, carefully, “What hurts?”

Clearly, he didn’t mean for his words to bring on the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts that you’d been keeping at bay.

“This, Din. All of this! Living in a ship, wondering if I’m gonna make it back in every time I step out of it, and not even being in on missions that risk your life! It’s like you’re cut off from me. Like we just live in the same space and I’m just there to entertain you. But it’s- it’s-!” You heaved a sigh, head buzzing with the force of the thoughts that were spilling out. They were so honest and raw from brewing for far too long. They must’ve been sharp as they came out, they must’ve hit him like a ton of bricks.

But of course, that damned beskar hid everything.

“It’s hard to be with a man who doesn’t trust me.”

For once, his voice rose. “I trust you more than anyone in the gal-!”

“You almost died because you didn’t trust me enough to let me in! You’d rather die than trust me!”

“That’s not how I-”

“That’s what your actions are telling me, Din. They always do. You never tell me what you’re thinking. I have to guess, but I can’t even read your fucking face. I live my life in question marks because you don’t even give me the option to-”

“You know I can’t show you my face.”

A deep breath left you, shaky and tired. So much pressure had alleviated in your head, like you’d finally emptied the contents of your mind onto a platter before him. And now that you could see it too, heard what you’d said, you felt almost ashamed for it.

Criticising the beskar was too far. That was his way of life, and had nothing to do with how he felt towards you. For sure, it was frustrating sometimes for you didn’t even know what your life partner looked like, but his culture was part of him. And you loved him.

“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-- What are you doing?”

He reached by you to snatch some fabric from a nook, and he folded it into a long strip without so much as a word.

“I’m- I’m trying to apologise-”

“You don’t have to. How can you trust a man you can’t see, right? We’ve been together so long, and you still don’t know who I am.”

You were stunned beneath the guilt that crashed over you. He took your words in so deeply, and fed them back to you plainly. You could see how you must’ve hurt him, with sentiments like this.

Your eyes welled with tears again. Whatever had come over you had clearly wanted to hurt him, but that wasn’t you. Your thoughts were too chaotic to pinpoint, swarmed with hurt and pain that was only now built on by the fact that you’d treated him so terribly. You’d sworn to him long ago that you accepted his Mandalorian binds, loved them even, but you’d let them get in the way with one incident.

“Don’t cry,” he spoke, modulated voice gentle. “I’m- I’m understanding you.” A calloused thumb brushed along your outer lashes to pause any tears that wanted to fall. “Let me help.”

And there was darkness.

He tied his makeshift blindfold behind your head in a loose knot, keeping your eyes in darkness. “Din? What is this?”

He kept quiet, and you heard shifting, something being placed aside.

“Why do you never-”

You cut yourself off when his hands took your wrists and lifted them gently, until your palms splayed on his stubbled cheeks. He gave a long sigh, and you imagined he’d closed his eyes.

Your heart jolted. He was here before you, bare, no helmet. When he spoke, his voice rang out clear and pure, the true timbre of his voice without modulation.

“I said, I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy.” His face moved with his words beneath your touch. “I’d move planets for you.”

He left you breathless. You dove at the chance, fingers tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. It stood high and strong, just like you’d always imagined.

“This… This isn’t risky? I didn’t mean to offen-”

“You didn’t offend me. I know it’s hard, I feel it too.” He guided your hands to his lips, and he placed gentle kisses to your fingers.

The lump in your throat welled up again, your nose stinging from the tears that you tried to hold back. The thought of him struggling with his culture simply because he wanted to be close to you. “You do?”

“You know how many times I wanted to take it off? This seems… This is the best way. I’m not breaking any rules.”

You gave a watery, sniffly laugh. “This is the way?”

A hum of humour. “This is the way.”

You let your touch wander over his face, mapping it as well as you could. The curve of his eyelids, the strength of his browbone. He breathed softly, and you could feel the air on your palms as it pushed through.

You wove your fingertips into his hairline, pushing his locks back and bunching them up in your grasp behind his head. It was surprisingly long with unruly waves, and so, so soft.

He leaned in with a sigh until his forehead met yours, hands falling to their home on your waist.

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His warm, sweet lips fit perfectly against yours, and your head spun. It was so much, feeling him so close after nearly losing him, arguing with him, and your first kiss in the long years of being his. The first actual kiss.

He was unsure and clumsy in his affection, a little hesitant.

Clearly, this was his first one ever.

You let a hand trail to his jaw, guiding with a gentle touch. He soon settled in, became more confident in his kiss, even if it was still clumsy.

And it was perfect. The determined nibbles to your lips, the soft scratch of his moustache on your upper lip, the way he tugged you closer even as you were pressed against the ladder.

When it finally slowed to a stop, he murmured softly, so much closer than he’d ever been. The sound reached deep inside your mind to soothe your soul and make you crave more of his kiss. “I won’t ever treat you like that again. I’ll give you full disclosure of my missions, every single one. Alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, breathless and flustered, “On one condition.”

“Hm?” He was clearly lost in this touch, so starved for so long, and it showed in his voice. He was utterly entranced with this new feeling, someone else’s fingers on his skin, words the last thing on his mind.

“We do this more often.”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, nose nudging on the tip of yours. “Deal.”

#mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #mando imagine #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #star wars imagine #star wars #pedro pascal #written by archie

9K notes · View notes

filmbyjy · 6 months

Note

Hehe imma send multiple

Maybe something like bf Jungwon & y/n being shy w skin ship but like both of y’all are clingy idk how to explain it

HOLD ME TIGHT

a/n: why is this me. like I am clingy but I am so shy on skinship and plus I constantly overthink things😪 also so sorry if this was bad 😭

both you and jungwon were currently at a cat cafe. since, you wanted to play around with the cats. jungwon nuzzles his nose right on the kitten in his hands. He smiles and continues to do so over and over again as the kitten attempts to lick his nose. All of this happening right in front of you and you can’t help but feel a little sad.

well the better term would be jealousy. as you could say since the kitten was pretty much getting his attention way more than you. you were just a witness to the cute action that was happening in front of you. you craved for this type of cute affection with jungwon. however, you weren't that brave to voice out your own thoughts.

while other couples in public could easily display affection, you can't help but get shy over it. it made you feel disappointed in yourself. why couldn't you over come this awkward feeling. you had a boyfriend that was probably more than ready to give you affection you craved but you always hesitated to do so.

"(name), look. this kitten keeps meowing back whenever i meow." jungwon calls out, seemingly pulling you out of your small bubble of thoughts.

he meows and the kitten meows back. he laughs before pecking the kitten's small head. oh how adorable he was. you didn't understand his cute little tangents he liked to go on whenever you two hang out. sometimes, you even wondered if he was a cat. he seemed so...cat-like and playful.

you opened your mouth to say something but nothing really comes out, it was like the words that you wanted to express to him were not coming out. "jungwon?"

he hums, "yes, baby?" he continues to give the kitten a little more attention but stops a to look up at you.

"i- nevermind." he could sense the slight hesitation in your voice and so he carefully puts the kitten down.

"is there something wrong?"

"it's nothing. just something stupid." you brushed it off but jungwon goes to hold your hand which he rarely does since he too was shy with skinship. this was a big step that jungwon took and it was completely out of concern and love.

"tell me, i want to know whenever you're struggling." he lightly squeezes your hand. his adorable cat-like eyes staring into yours.

"i- can we cuddle?" you hesitantly voiced out.

"of course, we're dating. why can't we do that?"

"i know but...i'm scared that you might not want to cuddle. besides, we are still early in our relationship." you pout.

jungwon tilts his head. "are you kidding me? of course i do. you're my girlfriend. i wanna cuddle with you."

"what if you don't like it?"

jungwon playfully scoffs, "how could i hate anything about you? you're just saying random things now." he gets closer to your face. "i like everything about you. now, will you let me be your first ever official cuddle buddy?"

you nod and so jungwon goes to wrap his arms around you. you laid your head against his chest as the multiple cats were lazing around the both of you. jungwon's heart beats were calming. it actually made you sleepy. you could feel jungwon leave a small little peck on your forehead. just a light one.

"we should back to your home. you look tired." jungwon whispers.

"mmm, we should." you tiredly mumbled.

and so you and jungwon went back to your apartment.

"we're taking steps to our relationship. i'm proud of you for voicing out what you want to do." jungwon says.

"i tried to. i don't know if i'll be ready to fully voice out. after all, you are my first boyfriend and the only person i've done some sort of affection."

"don't worry, if you can't do it. i'll initiate it first. i tried my best today too. i'm not that great at showing affection too." jungwon admits.

"really?"

he hums, "yeah, i usually some sort don't do affection. you can ask the hyungs. they probably can tell you about it."

you blushed. "so this is a first time for you too?"

"yup. honestly, i think i'll do my best. i wanna see you blush and get flustered more often. it's cute." you groaned at jungwon's words. "that blush is reserved only for me, right?"

"yes." you looked away from him. jungwon laughs.

"good. now, let's get you to sleep. my little princess."

my little princess...

you liked the ring to it. jungwon's little princess. you couldn't wait to see how the next few months and even years would go with him.

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atyourmerci · 7 months

Text

✩Your Galaxy✩

✩ ✩

Abby Anderson / Mandolorian AU

Summary: Abby as a Mandolorian. No specific relationship to reader yet (will obv get into if this turns into a fic).

Warnings: smut, MDNI, some fluff holy fuck Madda wrote fluff?? Fingering, cunnilingus, switch!abby, switch!reader, cannon typical violence, no y/n, only description of reader is having hair, making up shit about space and Star Wars uni that I don’t know!!!it’s fine!!!

A/N: hey babies, so I’ve been sittingggg on this idea for a sec and idk if it will gel with you guys so pls lmk if this would be something you’re interested in. I guess this is a blurb?? If you wanna see it turn into a fic pls let me know:))

✩ ✩

Mando!abby who takes off her gloves so she can feel how wet you really are, even when you promise her.

Mando!abby who let’s you trace your fingers along her face in the darkness of the night so you can imagine what she truly looks like. The first time you weren’t expecting her vulnerability, she had just fucked you senseless as you laid there heaving when she pulled your shaky fingertips to her defined face, allowing you to let them roam freely.

Mando!abby who took her helmet off for the first time when you were laid inbetween her thighs, lapping at her swollen clit. She wanted you to hear her pathetic whimpers that no one else had. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly when you heard the rustling of the helmet come off, but she trusted you… “k- keep going baby I- jus’ wanna watch you”

Mando!abby who couldn’t help but to admit her real name with you as she had you bent over her bed, helmet off heavy breathed over the shell of your ear, driving her soaked fingers into your needy cunt. “F-fuck Mando…” you pathetically breathe out, muffled by the thin white fabric of her bed. “Abby,” Mando remarked flatly. It took you aback at the unrecognizable name, your body froze as your mind raced, did she call you the wr- “call me abby,” she corrects herself. A guttural breath you didn’t notice you were holding escapes your lips. Abby…Abby. A delicate name for the otherwise ruthless murderer. The name swirled aimlessly in your mind over and over again…abby.

Mando!abby who’s secret you knew. She was able to go unrecognized as a woman in her field, tweaking her modulator so her voice came out husky, her build making her larger and more threatening than any other mandolorian you had seen before. She didn’t want them to treat her differently, think less of her ability. You accidentally stumbled upon her well held secret when she came back to the ship with a gash across her abdomen. She tried hiding it from you, but it came up so close on her chest you unknowingly forced it out of her. You froze at the sight of her black bra peeking under her tunic, cheeks flushed. “Don’t say a fucking word,” she bit under her breath. You internally pulled yourself together with your new found information on the mysterious killer, wild eyed averting your gaze back to her cover eyes, eyes that you’ll never see. “Okay.” You said with an attempt at confidence. An attempt at reassurance. She had no reason to trust your word, but she did.

Mando!abby who insists on showering your body even if the lights are on. A stupid fucking ship. If the shower was running the lights had to be on. This was an automatic off zone for you when things started with you and abby. Not only could you see her face, but her entire body would be revealed to you in the intimate space of the well-lit shower. Her body that you had only seen bits and pieces of in desperate, heavy breathed moments, but never her face. But when you had returned from a rather brutal hunt, blood caked in your hair, she insisted to clean you off. “B-but abby-“ before you can protest she began removing your blood soaked clothing out of your sight behind you, “just close your eyes, I’ll stand behind you. I’m not leaving you by yourself for another moment,” the tang of her sweet voice fluttered your ears, unmarked by the hardness of the modulated voice of her visor.

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the mandolarian #mando fanfiction #mando smut #abby anderson tlou2 #sub abby #abby angst

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luffyvace · 8 months

Text

✌︎ Sitting in Zoro’s Lap hcs ✌︎

I just felt like doing these<3 I don’t usually do concepts and I’m testing out the waters so they’ll likely be short ;3 also I wanna do more than just relationship hcs bc it’ll be more fun ✌︎

enjoy zoro simps cuz y’all definitely be on my acc 💖

At first he feels it’s kinda pointless

like he’s thinking “why would you wanna sit on my lap?!—sit on a chair or- just- somewhere else!...even the floor or something idk?!!”

but however you somehow convince him to let you, whether that’s bribery (swords or alcohol), sitting on him anyway or schmoozing him over into letting you,

you did it!!

And that’s all that matters :)

he probably got tired of your relentless request and just let you eventually

While you sit on him he’s usually sleeping sitting up, drinking alcohol or just relaxing with his eyes closed

When you sit facing him it’s a little more comfortable for him

he prefers it that way

sometimes you lay your head on his shoulder/chest and fall asleep on him

he’ll scoff either way but he gets a bit annoyed if he was trying to do something that requires getting up

Like training for example

If he wasn’t too busy in the first place then he just scoffs and probably takes a nap himself

if he’s not tired he waits for you to get up

he doesn’t like to stir you from sleep but if it’s important like a ship attack he’s kinda rough about doing so- 😀

bro he basically yanks you up and yells your name

not because he’s trying to be mean 🤷‍♀️

Just the fact that if an attack comes your way you won’t be able to dodge—and protecting someone isn’t his thing when fighting, he always tells you to go hide if your weak

uh anyway 😗

When you sit with your back to his chest its comfy but like don’t be surprised if he picks you up and turns you around (i don’t wanna hear anyone saying they’re too heavy bc you obviously must not have seen the weights he lifts on a daily)

sitting like that’s kinda annoying bc having to crane your neck back and to the side is not fun 😬😀

plus you probably hit his jaw a lot-

Or things like

1) he bites his tongue

2) his teeth hit your head (and it hurts for both of you)

3) he spits his alcohol in your hair (when you hit his jaw with your head)

4) you hit your head on his nose

So yeah this position is less common for you guys

Bonus if your hair is long

then he gets his fingernails stuck to it too :)

he prefers you don’t sit on his lap in public

mostly because he doesn’t like the stares that come with it 💁‍♀️

he just feels awkward

If you once again somehow convince him to let you in public however…..

it’ll be the type where he man spreads and you sit on one leg facing him

that way he has a bit more space to move and one of his arms is free

just in case an attack comes that he needs to block

orrrrrr just for simply drinking alcohol 😋

on the merry/sunny he’s more likely to cave in

especially since it’s just the strawhats

unless they make fun of him or smth (especially robin) then he doesn’t mind as much

plus y’all can have some privacy in the crows nest most likely

ngl he pretty comfy to sit on

unless your really tall or smth he’s prob bigger than you

so it’s not like y’all are uncomfortable or squished

zoro after time skip is low key more comfy because you know that dark green coat he wears?

yeah it like bends to create a little chair when he manspreads

and idk if you know what I’m talking about but those who get it do 💗👍

Does he end up liking it?

yes :)

yes he does. :)

Im trying to branch out and do more concepts because it’s more interesting for me to write, and you to read so why not 😊

Hopefully my zoro stans enjoyed !! <3 ⚔️🗡

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insideoutfanartist22 · 1 month

Text

Before I start, I want everyone to know that I respect all ships, but these are just my preferred ships uwu

So I made ship childs for Sadness x Embarrassment, Joy x Anger, and Anxiety x Fear OwO

Before I explain anything about them I also wanted to say that Phobia is inspired by other Anxifear ship childs, mainly ones that belong to “aislep_”, “rosatoons”, and “katra_the_drabbit” on Instagram. So please go check them out because their art is awesome!

OK so now for the explaining uwu

Here are which child belongs to who:

Sadness x Embarrassment: Insecurity (male)

Joy x Anger: Passion (male)

Anxiety x Fear: Phobia (female)

I wanted to create my own children for them that wasn’t more emotions because that didn’t feel right to me XD So I made up these little bby creatures uwu

Here is when Anxiety and Fear first meet Phobia úwù

I like to image that the “married” emotions get their own wing/room connected to HQ and there’s a little crib-looking compartment on the wall inside each of their rooms and that’s where their child appears and they appear overnight so the couples wake up one day and are suddenly parents OwO

Also I put “married” in quotes because I like to call it “connection” or “connected” emotions instead because I think marriage is for humans and it sounds weird to me to call emotions married idk why XD but “connection” is the same thing as married uwu

So these children are each made of a different material:

Insecurity: gummy

Passion: fire

Phobia: goop

And they have their own way of using the console and they basically can stretch their body to cover the console and the parents of the child are the only ones who can get the child to let go of their grip of the console because I thought that’d be cute uwu

When they do let go of their grip, they leave a residue on the console that can cause their “trait” to linger in Riley for a little while after, but if the emotions clean it off right away then it won’t XD

Also, Phobia has a teddy bear named GABA because that’s the name of the chemical in our brain that calms us down and so it’s the only thing that calms her down when she’s scared úwù

She’ll be having a melt down and be like “GABA! GABA!” Q^Q and Fear will be freaking out trying to find her bear like “WHERES HER GABA?!”

It’s hard to see but here’s Fear holding Phobia in one of those baby carriers because he would XD she also has her teddy and Fear is feeding her what I like to call “mind milk” because I don’t know if there’s milk/baby formula in the mind XD I guess if there’s coffee… but mind milk sounds fun so we’re sticking with it uwu

Anyway that was a lot sorry XD Here is a cookie for your time ówò 🫴🍪

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ipseitydelrey · 7 months

Note

hi!!! i love your writing!!!! idk if you’ve done this yet but maybe…. a nsfw alphabet with hotch 🤭🤭

I BEG

omg yesss

nsfw alphabet ☆ aaron hotchner

ship aaron hotchner x afab!reader

warnings smut (duh), mention of sex toys, implied unprotected sex (practice safe sex please!), size difference kink, thigh fucking, mention of degradation and spanking, masturbation, office sex, oral (mostly f receiving), rough sex, quickies, shower sex, phone sex, teasing, mentions of haley (rip queen)

a/n i need him; also sorry this took so long !!

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

it’s like a half-half thing; sometimes he’ll run the shower for you, get you some water, etcetera — or he’ll just lay in bed with you and hold you. either way, you’re not complaining.

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)

aaron hasn’t really thought about a particular body part of his that he likes more than others, but he does sometimes favour his hands. a size difference kink might come into play with this preference, but he just likes stroking your cheek or thigh, or maybe just holding your hand.

as for you, it’s no contest that he loves your thighs the most. it’s obvious to you, but he honestly also hasn’t thought about his preference for your body parts too. but during sex, you notice how his hands tend to trail down to your thighs, or he would pay extra attention to them when he’s eating you out.

C = cum (anything to do with cum)

buried in you; that’s how he likes to finish. he loves cumming in you and filling you up to the brim, it’s a mouth-watering visual for him.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

with other partners (mostly haley), he’s definitely vanilla; like definitely, no degradation/dirty talk either. however, with you, he’s been thinking about discussing trying more spicy things in the bedroom — namely things like degradation and spanking.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

ahem, haley. most of his experience with sex is with her, so after she died and he had time to heal and go back into the dating scene, he experimented a little more with different types of partners; he’s probably more experienced than you, at this point.

F = favourite position (this goes without saying)

prefers missionary for more control and intimacy but if you wanted, he would be more than willing to let you ride him.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

serious both outside and inside the bedroom; he’d definitely take sex much more seriously at the beginning of your relationship. as you both grow much more comfortable with each other, he’ll make small quips of humour during the act.

H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

just look at his hands — you can tell that he has a lot of body hair without even seeing him naked. definitely has a mouth-watering happy trail.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

he absolutely does not do one night stands or hookups, so romance is a necessity for him to even think about having sex with someone. expect a lot of “i love you”s during the act and expect to return them.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he does it, but not as often as other people might. probably would do it on a case in the hotel/motel if he really misses you :(

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

before you, aaron didn’t really explore the kinky side of sex, so he always remained pretty vanilla in that department. one kink that you noticed he has but he himself would never admit to is a size difference kink.

L = location (favourite places to have sex)

as much as he would love to fuck on the desk in his office…yeah, he prefers to keep it in the bedroom. he has yet to tell you about his office sex idea but knowing you, you’d be onboard for it.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

doesn’t have any specific things that turn him on — except whenever you wear his work shirts. they look loose and a tad too big to be form fitting, but he absolutely loves it and can’t wait to rip it off you.

N = nope (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

as much as he would like to experiment with kinky sex, he really objects to being too dominating; he wants you to still have some level of control so if you want, you can take the helm anytime you so wished. of course, he’d also never want to hurt you, and he might not want to experiment with possible bondage until a while later into your relationship. also, he absolutely does not want to be called any dominating title in bed, like “sir,” “master” and especially “daddy.”

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

aaron’s a giver, through and through. there are times where he does like getting a blowjob, he likes eating you out way more. probably because you tend to bury your hands in his hair and tug a little bit to signal something you like him doing.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it does depend on mood and the reason you’re having sex, but typically the pace is slow and deep. this can change since — considering how stressed out he usually is because of his job and workload — some cases would just get to him, or his job gets to be too much. so he would take it out on you by going fast and rough.

Q = quickies (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

doesn’t particularly favour them, but what can he do when he’s on-call 24/7? the only time he likes quickies are when you’re showering together and he just can’t handle how good you look soaking wet. first round in the shower, then the second, third, or even fourth round(s) in the bedroom.

R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

later in your relationship, he does want to experiment with kinkier sex, but risks are a hard no.

S = sexts (yes? no? pictures?)

aaron wouldn’t be into sexts and nudes so much as he would be into phone sex. considering how often you’re away from each other, and you both have the opportunity to be alone with your phones, he would 100% take it.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he knows the different types of sex toys, but he doesn’t own any and has never used them. but sex toys are definitely on his list of things he would like to test on you during sex. only if you’re up for it (who are you kidding, of course you are).

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

again, depends on the mood, but sometimes he does like to tease you. only sometimes though; usually he just wants to get right to the fucking just in case he gets called in.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

unfortunately, aaron’s the type of guy to mostly be quiet and not outright loud. he also doesn’t moan; he sticks to grunts and groans (they’re still hot to listen to).

W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

he really wants to try thigh fucking. seeing his cock push and drag through your closed thighs, getting lubed by a combination of your wetness and his precum is a visual that turns him on so much. he has yet to tell you though, but he’s been hinting at it…

X = x-ray (dick size)

girthy, above average, and not one, but THREE prominent veins (good lord…).

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

not that high, unfortunately; you definitely have a higher sex drive than him, that’s for sure. rarely, he’s one and done, he does tend to aim for two or three rounds if possible. if he’s worked up or stressed out, however, he could probably go all night.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he tries to keep himself awake until you fall asleep. he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and content with the outcome of the night’s activities before he can relax; you’re a top priority to him.

#✩ ⊹˖ ꒰ aaron ꒱ ୨🎧୧ #★ sei’s lexicons #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction

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runningfrom2am · 10 months

Text

leveling the playing field XI

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

next part

"You can't call me that here!" You hiss, taking the final steps out into the summer nights breeze.

"Never mind that, what are you doing here?" Coriolanus asks as soon as the door to the back of the building shuts behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet alley behind the Hob.

You groan, dragging your hands over your face. "I had nowhere to go."

"Well, I... what happened?"

"Does it really matter?" You just shake your head looking up at him now, face red with anger. "If we're gonna talk, how about we talk about how you tried to drag me down to hell with you, huh? How about we talk about you showing up after trying to ruin my life and kissing me like I'm some kind of object to you! After all this time! Let's talk about that!"

Coryo takes a sharp breath in, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You're not an object." He says, a hint of disgust in his voice, upset that you would even imply that he felt that way.

"Funnily enough, that is the bottom of my list of concerns right now!" You laugh dryly. "I thought we were friends! I thought you cared! And maybe that was stupid of me but don't come back now saying that you do." Your narrowed eyes are rimmed with tears now, and he can see that you're hurt despite you trying to shield it in anger.

"We are friends, I-"

"No, Coriolanus, we aren't, because friends don't do that!"

"Will you stop fucking interrupting me!" He shouts, making you jump. He's fed up with you always having to have the last word. "For once, just one time, will you let me explain?"

You just stare at him, jaw grit as you look up at him. You've never looked softer, your clothes and your hair are so loose and freeing and unlike you and you've somehow never looked more like yourself.

"I'm sorry. Okay?" He says, taking a hesitant step closer to you.

"Is that all you've got?" You scoff, nodding to yourself and pushing past him to walk back inside.

He can't let you go again, he just can't. He grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Y/N, listen, I'm sorry. I regretted it the moment I said it, I shouldn't have pulled you into that but they already knew and I just wanted to be able to help you." Internally you roll your eyes, relaxing your arm so he knows you won't run. You'll hear him out. "All I wanted was for you to come with me, I thought they would ship us off together."

"Me? As a peacekeeper? Un-fucking-likely." You reply bitterly. "Did you think that through for even a second before you decided that I would be better off with you? Or were you just scared of being alone?"

The question makes him pause, which was enough hesitation for you to pull your arm away and start walking off toward the street. "Tigris wanted me to tell you they love you, by the way!" You call back over your shoulder, turning the corner and disappearing out of his view.

You walk around the building and back to the front entrance, hoping you could lose him in the crowd if he decides to follow you. You were no longer in any mood to dance, that's for sure, so you would just wait for the show to end in the back where you first talked to Lucy Gray again. You push through the abundance of people dancing, the music blaring in your ears. You make it to the desolate hallway, attempting to gather yourself before you really start to cry.

"Y/N?" You hear someone call from behind you, and you turn at the use of your real name. It didn't sound like Coryo, or any of the Covey band.

"Sejanus!" You squeal, running back toward him and tackling him in a hug. "God, I have never been happier to see your face in my life." You sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Likewise." He chuckles, rubbing your back. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm great." You grin, taking a step back to talk to him face-to-face instead.

"We have to find Coriolanus, he'll be thrilled to see you." He says, looking over his shoulder to see if he could spot the blonde anywhere in the crowd.

"Ugh." You groan, rolling your eyes. "No, I saw him."

He snaps his head back, looking at you confused. "You don't seem happy." He observes, stating the obvious.

"Tell me, Sejanus," You muse, resting a hand on your hip as you shift your weight. "If you had someone you perceived as more than a friend take the liberty of framing you for something that could cost you your whole life when they knew you were innocent, would you forgive them if their only apology was a kiss?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. You knew you were stretching the truth, but Coriolanus had done the same thing, clearly, so what was the harm in wanting Sejanus on your side?

"I... what? No, he didn't- he didn't tell me that." He looks shocked, looking back again to see if he could see him.

"Well. That's what just happened, weirdly enough." You laugh, shrugging to try and portray that you don't really care much more than that.

"I- um... We were told you were sick." He changes the subject now, something you're happy about because one more thought about Coryo and you might be in tears; or you might start throwing things.

"Sick? No." You shake your head. "I ran because if I hadn't, I'd be six feet under in the Capitol cemetery by now, no doubt. That or I'd be lacking a tongue."

"Oh, wow." He doesn't know what to say, so you just hum in agreement. "Coriolanus almost convinced me you were dead, but I knew better. They couldn't kill you if they tried, I don't think."

You chuckle, shrugging slightly. "Well, yeah. So that's been my life recently. Now I'm staying with Lucy Gray." You explain. "But what about you? You follow out here Coryo too?"

"More or less." He nods, a slight smile on his face. "Hey, uh, I've got to go, got some business to take care of but we'll get together again soon, okay? I'm really glad you're alive."

You nod, hugging him again. "Yeah, of course. I'm staying at this ugly, old grey house at the edge of the seam, past the end of the road. There's goats out back, you can't miss it. You'd think there's nothing out there, but trust me, we'll be there. Come by sometime when you're free, okay?"

"Will do." He agrees, hugging you back for just a moment. "I'll see you soon, Miss Sage." He teases, giving you a polite bow before turning to return to the party. You furrow your brow a bit as he almost directly approaches Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's ex alongside one of his scummy friends, but you decide to mind your business. Sejanus was always too nice to everyone for his own good, anyway.

"Y/N's here." Coriolanus states, both him and Sejanus helping to carry their intoxicated bunkmates back to the barracks. "You see her?"

"I did, yeah, I talked to her." He nods, eyes straight ahead as their shoes crunch over the gravel.

"You talked to her? When?"

"A little after her performance, she was heading to this back room. Seemed awfully upset."

Coryo sighs. "What did she tell you?"

"That you betrayed her." Sejanus answers simply, adjusting his friend's arm over his shoulder. "That she was going to be killed or worse if she stayed."

"That's not-" Coryo thinks it over. "I didn't betray her, Sejanus. We know one baseline thing about Y/N Y/L/N and it's that she is, if nothing else, dramatic."

"Really? I wouldn't describe her that way." Sejanus argues subtly. "She's outspoken, maybe slightly obnoxious at times, but I feel like I am too. The one thing I know for sure about her is that she's not a liar, Coriolanus."

Coryo doesn't know if he's more angry about Sejanus calling you 'obnoxious' or framing it so nicely that you don't keep your mouth shut when you probably should. You were his girl, his. No one should talk about you like that but him- praise you or critique you all the same. You didn't know it yet, necessarily, but you were his to protect and to fix, if need be. You were rough around the edges, that's for certain, but you would mellow out eventually if you ever forgave him. "She wouldn't let me explain."

"Oh, was this before or after you kissed her as an apology?" Sejanus matches the heavy statement with a laugh and Coryo rolls his eyes at his response.

"I just, I needed her to know I did it because I care. I thought she was dead."

"Okay, well, she told me where she's staying. Told me to stop by on a day off." Sejanus admits. "Maybe you should come with me."

"Maybe." He agrees.

It was another week of torturous loneliness before Coriolanus was graced with a day off, and not even so much graced as he had to trade with one of his bunkmates to have the same day off as Sejanus. As soon as they ate they grabbed a couple bags of ice to bring with them to help you and your new friends beat the heat- a peace offering, of sorts.

The early August sun beat down on their backs as they walked through the Seam, a decrepit and rundown residential area that Coryo had no doubt had never seen a single air conditioner in all its days. There's no way you were happy here. Even with the lightness of his t-shirt and the early hour, he still had to fight the urge to remove it and instead drape it over his head to shade his skin from the sun.

"There's nothing down here. She lied to you." Coryo mutters as the already crumbled road falls into nothing more than a trail.

"Y/N said we had to keep going past the road." Sejanus says, looking back at him over his shoulder. "You want to hate her so bad, but you can't."

"I certainly can." Coryo grumbles in denial. "She's giving me the runaround. Obviously, she gave you fake directions-"

"Are you sure about that?" His friend replies smugly, looking through the overgrown trees ahead at a small grey house circled in by a white fence that hadn't seen a wash in years.

Coriolanus doesn't say anything, mentally rolling his eyes at being proven wrong. "Alright, go knock, then." He gestures for his friend to go ahead.

"This is your big plan to win her over? Hide in the bushes while I go in?"

"No. I'm just sure she lied and a local drunk is about to open the door with a gun pointed at your head."

"Suit yourself." Sejanus replies lightheartedly, practically skipping up to the door and giving it a few gentle knocks before taking a step back.

It's only a few moments and lots of chatter from inside before the door is swung open. "Hello there, what can we do ya' for?" Lucy Gray grins, and Sejanus looks pointedly over his shoulder at Coryo.

"Hi, I'm Sejanus, I'm a friend of Y/N's from back home." He explains and she smiles.

"Of course! I thought I recognized you, come on in, she's out in the back but you can just pass right through." She lets him in, looking at Coryo standing just outside of the fence line.

"You coming, Coriolanus?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as she holds the door, leaning against the frame.

He plasters on a smile, nodding and walking up to her on the porch that he's shocked doesn't collapse under his feet. "How are you?" She grins at him. "It's good to see you."

"You too." He nods. "I'm glad to see you made it home safe."

"Hey, well, welcome to the club." She chuckles, closing the door behind him. "Y/N's just out back." She points toward the back door. "But she's not too keen about seeing you, you know."

"So I've heard." Coryo sighs. "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why are you here?" She asks her previous mentor calmly. He's stumped by this, unsure how to respond. "Well, if it helps, I'm real glad you're here. I missed you." Lucy Gray promises, leading him to the back door and swinging it open.

Your head turns at the appearance of Coryo's silhouette on the back stairs. You internally groan, of course Sejanus would bring him. "And you brought Coriolanus." You smile bitterly at your friend, sliding an ice cube from the bag across your bare collarbones over the shirt you had now cut the sleeves off completely to turn into a tube top.

"Yeah, well, I figured you might want to actually talk." Sejanus offers, raising an eyebrow at you.

"We wanted to make sure you were doing okay here. Living up to your high standards." Coryo replies for you.

"Do I look uncomfortable to you?" You ask, placing a hand on your hip. "Well, now you've seen it all. Thanks for coming, Coriolanus, but I'm clearly happy here, so you can be on your way. Don't you have a rebel to shoot at?"

"Hey, woah-" Sejanus chuckles, holding his hands out to you in mock surrender. "Y/N, we just wanted to visit. I know I speak for both of us when I say that we've missed you."

You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly. You were nothing if not polite, raised to be a flawless hostess in your own home. "Alright. Sit." You gesture to the patch of grass next to you, by the little garden you're digging into to start some fall flowers. You've always wanted to try a garden, but your family paid people to do that and you didn't have the time, so why would you?

Lucy Gray and Sejanus do most of the talking, and you try to avoid looking up much from the dirt you're digging up and the small seeds you're planting. Coriolanus is sitting too close to Lucy Gray for your comfort, but you've been working on your temper, and until he showed back up it was going really well.

"Lucy Gray!" Billy Taupe calls from the front of the house, drawing all of your attention. You'd seen more of him than you have cared to since you've been here, he just won't leave her alone.

"Oh lord, here we go." She huffs, standing up and brushing off her skirt.

"I'll come with you." Sejanus offers quickly, standing as well. You're reminded of how, apparently, he and Billy Taupe know each other but you still can't understand why. The two of them disappear around the side of the house, and you're left alone with Coriolanus.

You keep a straight face, continuing with your cycle. Dig a hole, move the dirt, bury the seed, water it, repeat.

"What are you planting?" He decides to break the silence, moving a little closer to you and leaning back on his palms.

"Flowers, some fruit." You mumble back, keeping your focus on your hands.

"Isn't it a bit late in the season?" He asks, head tilted as he watches you.

"Raspberries are perennials." You reply plainly. "And roses bloom until late fall, do they not?"

"They do." He nods in confirmation, smiling a little to himself. Raspberries and roses together. He wonders if you even know what you're doing, or if this was a subconscious yearning you didn't know you had; to be with him in every form.

"Then there's no harm in planting them now." You say, stopping to take a quick break. You lean back on your calves where you were kneeling, grabbing the ice bag that is now mostly melted to drink out of. You hold it out to Coryo when you're done, shaking it when he hesitates to take it from your hand. "Drink. It's hot, you'll get dehydrated quickly even just sitting out here."

Coryo takes it at that, looking away quickly when he catches that glimpse of pity in your eyes, the same look that plagued him in the weeks leading up the the games and after he thought you died. He hated it until then, but now, maybe it wasn't so bad. At least you were looking at him, and it seemed like it was some kind of inherent need you had to take care of him. The thought of that made his stomach flip.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you." You say suddenly, catching him so off guard he almost spits out his water. District life really must have been changing you, and it was worse than he imagined. It wasn't just the loose-fitting clothes that were one stitch away from falling off of your frame, however breathtaking they may somehow look. Now, Y/N Y/L/N was in the business of issuing apologies? Someone call a doctor. "I shouldn't have said... that. It was cruel."

Coryo nods slightly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I figured you didn't mean it."

"You were lucky they had already decided my guilt. I would have torn your head off by now, otherwise." That's the Y/N I know.

"Sejanus told me they were going to execute you."

"Well, not necessarily." You sigh, pulling your skirt back out of the way before digging your hands back into the dirt. "It wasn't stated, but it was service that was suggested. Possibly nursing, probably under my father back home. When I climbed out my window, they were discussing the possibility of having me turned into an Avox. Highbottom said I knew too much, but I know my father would rather shamelessly bury me than have his oldest turned into a symbol of rebellion." You explain, now seeing no harm in telling him the full story.

"What do you know, anyway?" Coriolanus asks. It had been bothering him for a long time, and up until a week ago, he thought you took those secrets to the grave.

"That he and my father are proprietors of the largest drug ring Panem has ever seen." You answer simply, a smug smile taking over your features as you press some dirt carefully over a planted seed. "The main storage is in a secret room in our wine cellar, an old bunker from the war. I stumbled into it when I was thirteen-ish. I mean, you wouldn't believe everything they had down there. I haven't seen anything like it. Actual gallons upon gallons of morphling, other addictive crap that'll ruin your life, even weed." You giggle, sitting back again to gesture with your hand how big everything is.

Coriolanus can feel his eyes going wide at your confession, and he stammers. "I- wow, uh..."

"Come on," You chuckle, tilting your head at him like it was obvious. "Doctors don't have that much power unless they're a game maker Like Gaul, or have that money to start. They make money, sure, but not like that."

"Well," He swallows, nodding slightly at the intake of information. "That explains you being able to walk all over Highbottom for so long." He chuckles. It all makes so much sense now, how both you and Highbottom have a seemingly endless supply of morphling on you, and your father had a decently sized sought-after medical practice, but nothing that could add up to the amount of power and influence he possessed back home. "And the weed you brought to Livia's seventeenth birthday party."

You laugh. "No one even knew what to do with it- we were all so damn sheltered." You hum, matching his smile. "Still, don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He shakes his head.

"You sure? Because last I recall, you did snitch on me, Snow. And frame me, if I’m remembering correctly…"

Coryo sighs. "I know, I know... But I did mean what I said. I just- it was stupid, but I thought I could protect you. Genuinely."

You don't seem mad anymore, just smiling at him. "I know." You say, voice so sickly sweet and soft in a way he had only ever heard from you once before; when he was on the verge of a panic attack in the arena. You had told him that soon it would all be over, simultaneously you were right but you also couldn't have been more wrong.

You needed him to believe all was forgiven, and the small look of satisfaction on his face proves to you that it has worked. From here, the games were back on.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , @lauravanderbooben20 , @dry0campa , @luclue , @lokidala , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #the hunger games #thg series #thg #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction

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iamjellyfish · 1 month

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HOSHINA SOSHIRO | Chase after fate (idk what to name this fic) ❥A/n: I genuinely want to write angst, extra angst, and multiple angst tropes in one fic, so this one is to drabble up something angst so I got fed. ❥Summary: You, a ghost of his past, haunt him even if he is in an arranged marriage and thought he had moved on years ago. Who knows your fading and fluttering image held his heart hostage? Yet when he managed to hold you close, he found out you already forgot everything. ❥Trope: arrange marriage (Soshiro and someone else), you fall in love too soon - he realizes how much he loves you too late, you get in an accident and lose your memory. ❥Warning: THE ANGST DEMON HOLD MY HAND AND WRITE THIS, angst (a lot of angst), unclear ending, Soshiro underestimate his heart.

Sometimes when he looks at you, something about you resembles a butterfly, so beautiful yet can't see its own beauty... Sometimes he found himself recalling old memories... just something small like how you always prefer to sit near windows at the cafeteria or in a car, how even after months of training you still sometimes have small mistakes that usually only rookie had. Small and insignificant memories. At least he thinks so. He is now a married man with the responsibility he must bear. Even if it's a loveless marriage, he still needs to do his part because his wife has done her part which is to take care of the house while he is working. You probably can't handle being a housewife, you can't cook and get distracted by unimportant things.

You and him used to dating, yet deep down he knows that the moment he chose his work over you, he already lost you. It was 0:23 on a Friday, you and he were on a mission and you got injured. Yet, he has to chase down the honju while you wait for help, despite you being afraid and begging him to be there... He was gone. You knew he had an arranged marriage yet you were so in love with him, you two tried to stop it from happening but in the end, only you still trying to make things work. You know and understand for Soshiro but a girl could only take too much before she broke. Glasses were broken and your bandage hand was bleeding. At the time, Soshiro, wasn't serious about the relationship, in his heart, this is probably a doomed relationship from the start. You were the moth that flew into the flames but refused to be stopped by him. "Soshiro, do you think you love me?" You said, blood still dripping, Soshiro's hands reach out to help you yet you push him away. Of course, Soshiro loves you, but in his heart, he chose work over you, which means he had the accept the arranged marriage between clans. He was waiting for this ship to sink eventually yet he yearned to keep it afloat as long as he could. Even if it's just another moment. "Of course darling, I love you! Now please, let's fix your bleeding hand and clean the glasses okay?" You let him fix your bandages and just look down into the broken glasses, you wonder, if this is your fault. It's you that was the moth that flew into this dumpster fire, you know that he would choose work over you yet you chase after him. The days were you laughing at your friends for "I can fix him" come crashing down on you. Soshiro recall the days when you would get hurt in a mission and he would visit you in the hospital with your favorite foods and would lecture you about keeping yourself safe. "Y/n, I don't want you to get hurt, even if it's to protect me." He said, that day you jump into the kaiju's attack to shield him from it. He never told you but that day, your eyes looked really beautiful, they looked like they held stars in them. He found himself brushing your strands of hair out of the way for him to see your eyes more clearly. "It's fine, it's you that I would get hurt for! Every injury from protecting you is worth it!" You say that with a warm smile, it gave him butterflies yet he would push it down into the abyss of his heart because he was sure that this wouldn't work out, yet he can't tell you that. Eventually, his mind wanders to the memories of you breaking up with him on the day you quit being a soldier. He thinks your reason for quitting is something about your injury that requires you a long time to heal which affects your ability to fight. He didn't want to relive that memory again but he recalled that your hands were oddly cold that day, and your bandages were a bit off. He would fix it but you already leave. He was pulled back to the present when his wife, who is so different from you poked him. Soshiro treated her how he wasn't able to treat you, Soshiro made sure she wouldn't have to shoulder the doubts and the loneliness alone. Even if they're just friend now, he knows that she tried her best to keep things working out. "Soshiro, are you alright? Still thinking about that girl?"

She said, her fingers trailing down the lines in the book. She knows who you are, in fact, she met you, yet you were kind and understanding to her. She respected you, because even if fate is cruel to you, you still want to help her, Soshiro from this tragic event called "loveless marriage". She supports Soshiro in chasing you, yet she knows that Soshiro has insecurities that make him push away his feelings for you, and make him not understand his own feelings. And now you were a fluttering image haunting him, a beautiful illusion in his mind, and an unmovable calming ghost. In his dreams, you were always waiting for him, dancing so graciously while everything around you was dead calm. Your eyes held their sadness and blamed him, he doesn't mind, you should be blaming him. He always imagines you wearing a wedding dress that catches his eye one day, if he can, he would want to hold you your dream wedding. "...I'm sorry. I shouldn't." He said, looking at her, he felt guilty that he had to make her feel this way. Then he stood up after realizing what time is it. He recalls how you always told him about how you save money by buying stuff at certain hours for deals, he didn't understand much but seeing you talking about it made him happy. "Let me make up for you by buying the groceries alright?" She looks a bit disappointed and then smiles at him. She wanted him to go to you, to finally wife you up but the man seems to not understand all the hints she throwing these years. "I hope you will finally buy the courage to chase after the girl. The last time I saw her, she was still waiting for you." Soshiro just waved at that, pretending to not care yet deep down, those words surfaced feelings in him that he was not ready to face. Then he found himself wandering a little in the mall, wandering to shops that he thought you would like, Soshiro's eyes kept looking at clothes, and accessories that would fit you so well. And there you are, his bittersweet memories, you were here. But you don't acknowledge his presence, your beautiful eyes are looking around, those empty eyes. You look so lost, so out of place, just like in his dreams. "Y/n..." Soshiro's body betrayed him, and despite not wanting to talk to you, he still moved toward you. His heart beat fast and his hands yearn to hold you close. Yet you looked at him confused, you moved back a little, frowning at his calling. "I'm sorry... Do I know you?" You said, those words of yours froze him. Soshiro mind was racing, he thought you probably hated him and wanted to do nothing with him. The thought of you forgetting about him makes his heart clench. This is the moment he wishes it all was just a nightmare. "Don't you remember? I'm your vice-captain Hoshina!" He tried his best to do his signature grin, your eyes look into him and you clench a part of your jacket while frowning. Then you finally spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just got into an accident and lost my memory, you were probably my friend. So... How are you doing?" You smile warmly at him but before he can reply, you are already dragged away by your friends because you wander off without telling them. He just stood there for a moment. While buying groceries and paying for them, his mind keeps replaying the conversation with you, he is deep in his thoughts thinking about a future with you, about how there might be a chance he can patch things up with you. "I hope you will finally buy the courage to chase after the girl. The last time I saw her, she was still waiting for you."

He recalls his wife saying that. When he goes home, Soshiro realizes today was a snowy day, on the way home, the memories of you playing in the snow happily without the care in the world replay in his mind. He found himself would die if he couldn't spend the rest of his life by your side.

Your fading images of playing with the snow had made him feel warm. He swore to himself that he would be chasing after that image even if this time, he was the moth flying into the flames. "Soshiro, I build a snowman that looks like you!"

#hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #RAHHH ANGST

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wifeofsnowbaird · 8 months

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can you do a Tom Blyth x reader where they are filming like a romcom or something and they fall in love over the course of filming? i was thinking fluff but i would not be upset if it somehow ended up with some smut in their trailer ;) , just follow your heart!! lots of love ❤️

ofc! I’m absolutely shitty at smut tho i might try with this one but idk so fluff it is❤️ it’s gonna have 3 parts bc it’s definitely gonna need more than a short post!

this first part isnt really when they're filming i just wanted Tom to have a slight crush after seeing ur story and wanted a small scene with Rachel and Josh!

So long I've been out in the rain and snow.

But the winter's come and gone, and a little bird told me so.

Part 1/Part 2/

(Tom Blyth x actress!reader)

summary: you and Tom meet for the first time while Josh is in the middle of the livestream. It's become the new famous ship of the internet.

You were one of the newest actresses in Hollywood and luckily you managed to grab a role with one of the most famous actors right now, Tom Blyth.

Ever since he starred in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, people have been thirsting for him like he was water.

You wouldn't lie, you were one of them, but you two were supposed to meet in a coffee shop, reciting your lines and you were late.

" Oh you're [Name] [Last name], nice to meet you! Sorry, my friends decided to follow me here. "

Tom grinned, blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight, an apology gleaming in his pupils.

"No worries, it's fine! I'm so sorry I'm late, it was just traffic!"

" Don't worry, I'm just glad you made it!"

You took in a deep breath and extended your arm for a handshake. Surprisingly, he hugged you instead. You met the two 'friends' who are actually fucking Josh Rivera and Rachel Zegler who were seemingly livestreaming on Instagram.

" And here is the new couple! Say hi, you two love birds!"

Tom rolled his eyes before letting you go to tell Josh off.

" We aren't dating, we actually just met."

Josh turned, confused for a second before gazing at Tom's phone that was left on his chair.

"Wait, seriously? Didn't you see a post of her being your new co-star in that rom-com you're doing and started bragging a lot to Rachel and me? What's it?"

He thought for a minute before his eyes lit up and he smiled brightly.

"Oh, yeah! Sweet truth, where a girl had a bunch of exes tell lies and cheat but then finds a man who tells her nothing but the truth?"

Tom hissed and shut Josh up by covering his mouth, before he noticed Rachel leaning toward confused you, beginning to tell you the whole story.

His panicked face turned red.

" So it was a couple weeks ago, we were just calmly hanging out after reshooting some Ballad scenes when Tom showed us your Insta where you were like, I don't know, talking about the movie you're gonna be in! He was literally obsessed, I am not kidding."

She shrugged as Tom glared at her for spilling his secret.

"I'm sorry, I mean you're beautiful and I-"

He cleared his throat, unable to continue because of his embarrassment.

You giggled, shrugging.

" It's cool, I mean I think you're hot-I mean handsome too."

Inside you were literally screaming at yourself for exposing the fact that he's your celebrity crush.

" Uh, guys, I hope this isn't method acting because I'd be really disappointed in you, Tom" Josh snickered, sharing a mischievous glance with Rachel.

Tom rolled his eyes, smiling at you before beckoning to the chair beside him.

" Let's, uh, practice...?"

#tom blyth smut #billy the kid x reader #coryo snow x reader #bosbas #william h bonney x reader #coriolanus snow smut #billy the kid smut #hunger games fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x reader

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imaginespazzi · 9 months

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You Weren't Mine To Lose

They think they're so good at pretending when all they're really good at is pining.

(In which a masochistic writer puts her beloved ship through hell until giving them their much deserved happy ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 8.2K (idk how this happened but oops? 🙈)

TW: Implied sexual content, mentions of panic attacks, small mention of blood, alcohol, and lots of swearing

“I think that maybe we should end this.”

Azzi Fudd had been on the receiving end of plenty of harsh sentences. And she’d been certain that there wasn’t a sentence left on this planet that could hurt her more than the one the doctor had used to tell her about her torn acl. Until now, until Paige Bueckers, eyes drifting everywhere but towards the girl in front of her, had said those eight words.

“I just,” Paige pauses, rubbing her face, “I think I need something else.”

The words hit Azzi like acid rain, burning into her skin and infiltrating something she can’t quite explain in words. This wasn’t what she’d planned when she’d come searching for her best friend. No, she’d had an entirely different conversation in mind. She swallows the I love you, let’s be more, that had been on the tip of her tongue and chases it down with the carefully constructed speech of wanting forever and happily every after she’d written in her mind. The voice in her head shouts I fucking told you so, she was never yours and Azzi wants to scream.

But what comes out is a quiet, feeble, “okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Okay,” Azzi repeats, clearing her throat, trying to make her voice sound cavalier, “we said no strings and that means you can end it whenever you want. You don’t owe me any explanation and I won’t ask anything.”

“Right. No strings.”

It had been Azzi’s idea really, her stupid dumb self-preservationist idea that had led her to this moment. They’d been drunk the first time it had happened but she remembers it clearly.

Remembers the way an inebriated Paige had clung to her, eyes shining with lust.

Remembers the way Paige had whispered her name, desire clinging to each syllable.

Remembers the shivers that had crept up her spine as Paige’s hands had gone on a journey starting at her shoulders, and then down her arms, before finally rubbing circles around her waist.

Remembers the moment she decided fuck it.

But most of all she remembers the morning after, remembers the questions written all over Paige’s face, remembers making another decision. Just best friends who occasionally fuck, no strings, just fun. She’d been stupid to think that if she ignored them, the strings just wouldn’t exist. That if she pretended it was just sex, that she wasn’t so completely in love with her best friend, she would get over it. Newsflash: she hadn’t gotten over it.

“Well that’s that then,” Azzi says with a brightness she doesn’t feel, as she heads towards the door, desperate to get away, “I forgot Carol needed help with something so.”

“Azzi.”

She hates the hope that rises in her at the sound of her name. Tell me to stay. Tell me you didn’t mean it. Tell me you love me too.

“We’re still us right?” Paige asks quietly, her voice filled with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

“Of course Paige,” Azzi says, her back still turned towards Paige, knowing if she turns, if she lets Paige see her face, her best friend will see her words for the lies they are, “we’ll always be us.”

***

Azzi doesn’t know how she manages to get to Caroline’s room without falling to pieces. Her legs feel like they’re a second away from giving out and her arms shake uncontrollably. The dull beat of stress headache pounds in her skull.

“Ah Mrs. Bueckers,” Caroline smiles jubilantly as Azzi lets herself in, “did you guys finally figure it out?”

It takes her a second to catch her breath and to understand the meaning of Mrs. Bueckers. And then, Azzi breaks. Laughter erupts from her body and suddenly she’s cackling like a woman possessed. It sounds like shattering glass to her own ears and this is it, she thinks, I’ve officially reached peak madness. But she can’t stop, her body doubling over as she clutches at her stomach, tears beginning to leak from her eyes.

Caroline’s eyes widen, her smile slowly slipping off as the realisation that something has gone very wrong settles in.

“Azzi, fuck, what happened,” she asks, unsure of wether to approach the distressed girl, who, instead of answering, starts laughing harder, “shit, should I get Paige.”

Something shift’s at the mention of Paige’s name. The laughter dies away and instead, an unsettling panic takes birth in Azzi’s stomach at the idea of Paige seeing her like this.

“No,” she chokes out frantically, “don’t get Paige.”

Caroline’s concern grows at that. It had become a rule of sorts, if one of Paige or Azzi seemed to be going through it, then the best thing to do was to go find the other. They knew each other’s wants and needs better than anyone else could ever hope to. And what they wanted, was usually the other to hold them through the pain. So this, Azzi not asking for Paige, Azzi actively denying her need for Paige, this was bad, very bad.

“What happened Az?”

“She ended it,” the words leave Azzi’s mouth in tandem with the air leaving her lungs, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. She ended it. Fuck. She wants something else, something more and that’s not– I’m not– oh my god.”

“Az-��

“I knew this was a bad idea but- oh my god. She ended it,” tears wrack through her body as reality crashes and burns around Azzi, “I was so stupid, so, so stupid. I told you this would happen Caroline. I told you she didn’t feel the same. Oh my god, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”

“Azzi,” Caroline grabs at the brown-skinned girl, spotting the tell-tale signs of panic attack, “breathe with me Az, come on, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Azzi manages to get out, gasping for air, her body vibrating with sobs, “it’s not going to be okay because she doesn’t love me. She doesn’t love me and I don’t know how to live with that because all I know is how to love her.”

Azzi feels the energy leave her body as she goes limp in Caroline’s arms, letting the taller girl anchor her. She’s not ready yet, not ready for tomorrow when she’ll inevitably have to play pretend. She’ll have to stand in the same room as her best friend and put on a smile and pretend that she wouldn’t rather be anywhere but there. She’ll have to bicker and tease and laugh with the girl who broke her heart and pretend that she’d never given her the power to break it in the first place. And Azzi would do it all, because that’s what she’d promised Paige. She’d looked in the blonde girl’s eyes at the age of fifteen and swore to her that no matter what happened, the two of them would always be them. They would always be okay. And Azzi was going to do everything in her power to keep that promise

***

The first few days are fine and Azzi almost deludes herself into believing that she's okay. They fall into their old rhythm of being just best friends almost seamlessly, at least they do when they’re with their teammates. She’s not ready to confront the fact that they haven’t been by themselves, just the two of them, since that night. And if Paige notices the way Azzi avoids being alone with her, she keeps it to herself.

The same way they didn’t tell anyone they were more, they don’t tell anyone they’re less. They don’t need to; the team just knows. Even the coaches, who knew but never said a word, can tell something’s off. It’s in the little hesitations before the smiles, the moments of pause before saying something. But most of all it’s in the way Paige and Azzi don’t touch at all anymore. There’s no more Paige making it a mission to find ways to let her hands linger just a little longer on Azzi’s body when she’s in defending her, no more not-so-subtle brushes and linking pinkies as they walk past each other in the hallways, no more “just another one” pecks in the training rooms as everyone else waits for them.

Nothing changes on the court. Paige passes the ball, a pass only she could see, and Azzi shoots it, a shot only she could get off. They play in tandem, their backcourt chemistry still perfect. But the slap of their hands after the ball goes through the hoop, is half-hearted and formal, like teammates. Less. So, maybe Azzi’s wrong. Maybe they haven’t really fallen back into their old patterns and maybe everybody knows it. But in the bright lights of the gym, as she and Paige argue over a defensive play, and the game of basketball keeps them tethered to each other, she thinks that this will have to be enough.

***

And then, things go from okay to very much not okay. It’s after practice and they’ve chosen Paige’s apartment as their relaxation spot, except Paige isn’t there. She’d snuck away after practice and Azzi had pretended, it’s all she seems to do these days, not to notice. She’s not used to not knowing where Paige is but she’d quenched the overwhelming need to ask the blonde girl where she was going while completely ignoring the part of her that wanted to ask if she could come along.

“And that’s how your brain eats itself,” Amari finishes a long winded explanation with a triumphant smile. There’s dead silence as the rest of the team looks at each other before they all burst into laughter.

“How the hell do you even know that?” Aaliyah manages to get out through peals of laughter.

“Y’all don’t google?” Amari asks incredulously, and the way her face scrunches up causes a brand new wave of giggles to flood the room.

“We google,” Azzi says and she hasn’t smiled like this in days, “we just don’t google things like that.”

Amari lets out an indignant squawk at that and Azzi feels a sense of calm that she hasn’t in a while. It lasts about a minute until two voices, one unfamiliar, one too familiar, begin to invade the room. Paige stumbles in a second later and fuck. Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as she desperately tries to look away from where Paige’s hand is firmly intertwined with someone else’s. It’s a mistake because her eyes land on Paige's face instead and that might be worse. She’s met with a glowing smile and bright eyes, none of which are directed towards Azzi. Instead, all of Paige’s happiness is for another girl.

“Layla,” she hears Aubrey say and oh. Because Azzi knows exactly who Layla is, or at least who she was. There had been a freshman Paige that Azzi had never really known beyond the phone calls and facetimes with her Paige. But she’d known that Paige had gotten around and she’d heard of Layla. They told each other everything and hookups fell right into the scheme of things. Layla had been Paige’s go-to on nights she’d been too tired to go looking for someone else. She’d been such a constant, that she’d slowly become a friend. Things had changed gradually from the moment Azzi stepped on campus. Even before they’d brought sex into it, all of Paige’s time had been Azzi’s, well, until now.

“Hey guys,” Layla smiles and is greeted back with a chorus of not so enthusiastic “hello’s”

“Lay, let’s go,” Paige whines impatiently.

“Give me a second Bueckers, I’m trying to be polite,” Layla rolls her eyes but Azzi doesn’t miss the fondness in them and everything burns again.

“Be polite later,” Paige tugs on Layla’s hand. In turn, Layla gives the team a slightly apologetic smile before letting the blonde girl pull her away. The bang of Paige’s door closing behind the two of them reverberates around the pin drop silence of the living room, that had been filled with laughter only mere seconds ago.

Azzi finds herself suffocating under the sympathetic glances her teammates send her way. She digs her fingernails deep into the palm of her hand, forming dents she knows will bleed. If it hurts, she doesn’t feel it over the reckless thumping in her chest. One, two, three, breathe, she counts to herself, refusing to break down in front of her teammates.

“It’s called phagocytosis,” Amari says after a second, trying to fill the silence, “and I mean it’s not really the brain eating itself but it feels like it.”

“So you just technically lied then.”

“I did no such thing. It was a slight exaggeration maybe.”

“Phagocytosis sounds like a really weird disease.”

“Yeah, maybe Amari has it.”

The team dissolves back into giggles, not quite as rambunctious as before but it’s enough. Enough for them to be distracted. Enough for Azzi to escape. Not enough for Caroline to not notice but Azzi knows her friend will give her a moment. She takes the stairs almost three at a time, flinging the door to her apartment and then to her room. The force of it creates a circle of wind around her and for a second, to her dizzy brain, it feels like Azzi’s floating. She doesn’t bother with the lights, flinging herself onto her bed. Pressing her hands to her forehead, she desperately tries to block the constant stream of thoughts in her head about Paige and Layla. It doesn’t help. And in the familiar comfort of her bedroom, Azzi curls into herself, and lets herself fall apart.

***

The ball passes right through Azzi’s hand and rolls out of bounds. Azzi curses to herself as she hears Coach yell her name. It’s almost the end of practice, and she can hear the disappointment in his voice as he subs her out of their scrimmage. She’d been distracted the whole time, a step too slow on both sides of the ball. It was a novel thing. Azzi had bad games sometimes but she rarely had bad practices. As she walks off to the side, she can feel Paige’s eyes glaring at her. It had been her assist after all that Azzi hadn’t converted. She shrinks into herself, disappointment and shame colliding into one, because they’d done such a good job at not letting their personal havoc impact their game. And she’d blown it.

“What the hell was that,” true to what she’d expected, Paige turns on her the minute they enter the locker room after practice. They’ve barely spoken in the last couple of days and Azzi closes her eyes, letting herself revel just for a second in the feeling of having Paige so close.

“It was an accident,” she replies, turning her body so she’s face to face with her best friend.

Paige scoffs, “which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Which one was the accident? That perfect pass you just let go to waste? Was it that wide open three you missed? Or the blind drive to the basket into three defenders for no reason? Oh wait, maybe it was when you completely lost yourself on defence?” Paige rants, anger coating every word. It’s not new for Paige to hold Azzi accountable and god, maybe Azzi’s even missed it a little bit but she can’t help feeling annoyed that this this is what had triggered the old Paige.

“I had a bad day. It happens,” Azzi’s voice is colder than she means for it to come out but all the emotions she’s been suppressing are bubbling at the top of her throat.

“Well it can’t happen. You do that in a game and we’re fucked,” Paige retorts. The rest of the team continues to do what they’ve been doing, occasionally glancing at the two arguing girls. It’s another of those unspoken rules, don’t interfere when Paige and Azzi are fighting.

“I didn’t do it in a game.”

“But you could. And if you keep practising like that you’re going to end up embarrassing yourself in a game.”

“Again, it was one bad day Paige, I’ll keep it in mind and I’ll be better tomorrow,” frustration seeps into her tone and Azzi hopes that her words are enough for Paige.

“You better because that can’t happen again Azzi,” Paige says.

“I just said it wouldn’t,” Azzi’s voice rises, throwing her hands up in irritation.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m-”

“Paige?” a new voice cuts in and both girls reluctantly look away from each other to see Layla, “hey, you okay? You wanna get out of here.”

“I-” Paige lets out a breath, looking back and forth between Azzi and Layla. And Azzi waits, waits for Paige to tell the new girl not to get in between Paige and Azzi, like she always had when anyone else had tried to step into their fights. She waits for Paige to tell Laya that she’s fine, and that she and Azzi just need to talk it out. She waits, and it never comes.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” the blonde girl says instead, giving Layla a small smile. She looks over at Azzi, something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“Shit,” Caroline whispers under her breath, a sentiment clearly echoed in the rest of the team’s faces. Paige and Azzi didn’t leave arguments unfinished. They'd been in uncharted waters with the two girls for a while now, and this feels like yet another turning point.

Anger and frustration course through Azzi’s veins. She just left her brain sneers at her. The hurt and pain fade to the back of her mind, as Azzi lets these new emotions settle all over her. She’s cried more in the last couple of weeks than she ever has in her life and she realises slowly, letting this new volatility swarm her, that she has no more tears left to give. She left. And then a new voice enters her brain, and you let her go.

***

A knock on the door shakes Azzi away from her thoughts. The book on her lap that she’d been pretending to read, falls unmajestically to the floor. Through bleary eyes, she sees the 10 o’clock on her watch and confusion settles into her. She’d been clear before leaving the locker room that she wanted to be alone tonight and while her teammates had protested a little, they’d eventually agreed to give her space, although Caroline had been adamant on coming to wish her a good night. It was far too early for that. She sighs, ready to huff at whichever of her teammates had ignored her pleas. Instead she’s met with the sight of a sheepish looking Paige.

“Hey,” the blonde girl smiles and it’s small and slightly cautious but it’s so genuine.

“Hi,” Azzi says softly.

“I think I owe you a little bit of an apology,” Paige says.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow at that, “since when do you apologise for holding me accountable?”

“I- well,” Paige stutters, “Layla said I should.”

“That’s what Layla says is it?” Azzi can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. They’d never apologised for critiquing each other’s games or practise before and suddenly Layla had said Paige should and Paige had listened. Azzi hates everything about that.

“Is me apologizing a bad thing? What’s with the attitude?”

“No,” Azzi sighs, not having the mental stamina to deal with right now, “I’m just tired. I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry too.”

It sounds so formal to her own ears, like two acquaintances writing emails to each other. As they stand face to face, separated by mere inches, Azzi realises the depth of the chiasm between them. And she doesn’t know if she has the strength to build a bridge to go over it.

“Do you want to watch a movie,” Paige asks finally, her voice tinged with hope.

“I don’t know Paige. I’m tired and-”

“Please,” there’s desperation in Paige's voice now, “we haven’t done anything just you and me in a while and,” she stops, her eyes wet as they come up to meet Azzi’s, “I miss you.”

I miss you too, Azzi wants to stay. She wants to throw herself at Paige and wrap herself in the comfort of her arms. She wants to massage away the stress lines on her forehead and kiss away the tears threatening to fall from her blue eyes. Instead, Azzi simply manages to nod and steps away so Paige can come in. She’s rewarded with a smile so bright, it makes her heart ache.

As Paige enters the room, Azzi’s reminded of the last time the two of them had been there together and she can’t help the faint blush that rises up her neck into her cheeks. That night had been different, Paige had been softer, slower. She’d taken her time with every touch, every kiss; her every move had been sinfully deliberate. Through all of it, she’d kept her eyes locked with Azzi’s, making sure she could see how desperately Paige needed her in that moment. And Azzi, hands fisting sheets, had let her take whatever she wanted. She wonders if Paige knew that would be their last time, if she’d already decided to end things. I’d have held on longer if I knew.

Paige’s eyes linger on the bed for a second, before she decides to sit on the couch and Azzi follows her lead. They both curl up as close to the arm rests on their side as they can, leaving an unfathomably large amount of space between themselves for two basketball players who had been attached at the hip since they were fifteen. The awkwardness is palpable as Azzi picks a random comedy movie, the two of them making a subconscious decision to not revert to their normal routine of arguing about what to watch.

It takes a quarter or so of the movie before they find some semblance of normalcy. Paige finally lets out a laugh, after having reined it in during previous funny scenes and it sets Azzi off. And then they’re both giggling messes, feeding off of each other’s infectious laughter. The tension eases and they both unconsciously let their bodies uncurl, letting their legs tangle with each other. It comes so naturally, they don’t even really notice that they’re touching for the first time in weeks. They’re too busy laughing, and when they’re not, there’s a comfortable silence and it’s just, it’s them. Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep, she just knows it’s the best sleep she’s had in a while.

***

Azzi stirs awake to cold hands caressing her face, Paige’s touch ever so familiar. She keeps her eyes closed, scared it’s a dream. She’s had a lot of those lately.

“I wish you felt the same,” Paige whispers, pressing her lips to Azzi’s forehead and Azzi swears she feels a teardrop fall on her face. But before she can react, before she can reach out for the figure she can feel hovering above her, she feels it retreat away from her.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s all alone.

***

Azzi’s on edge. The team had chosen a bar in a random town in Connecticut tonight, instead of going to Ted’s as usual. It was meant to be a change of scenery and they were unlikely to be as recognized in such a random area. In theory, it sounded like a good idea, but the combination of a brand new place with people she’d never seen in her life, made Azzi far more tense than she had thought it would. On top of that, she hadn’t wanted to go out tonight in the first place. It had been two days since Paige had left her cryptically, and with the way the blond was vehemently avoiding her, Azzi was partially convinced, maybe she had dreamt the whole thing. The exhaustion of it all had desperately made her want to simply lie in bed and do nothing for hours. But if she’d stayed, one of her teammates would stay behind for her and if there was one thing Azzi didn’t want, it was to be an inconvenience.

And then there was the Layla of it all. Because apparently Paige didn’t go anywhere without Layla anymore. Remember when it was you, Azzi’s brain reminds her scathingly. From where she sits at a table with the rest of the team, she has a torturously close view of the two of them dancing together. It’s nothing scandalous, in fact to anybody else it’s probably the definition of friendly, but Azzi’s head is clouded with jealousy, and the three shots of vodka she’d already downed to ignore it.

“I think I need another round of shots,” she announces, noticing Paige and Layla start to make their way back to the table, “one of you come with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Caroline asks tensely.

“Of course it is. Shots are good. Shots are fun,” Azzi wraps an arm around Caroline’s shoulder, her words coming out slightly slurred, “come with me pretty please.”

“Come where?” Paige’s voice interrupts.

“Nowhere you need to be,” Azzi retorts harshly and a flicker of hurt passes across Paige’s face. Azzi almost apologises, hating seeing Paige sad, but then her eyes focus in on where Layla’s hand is carefully placed on Paige’s bicep, and the sorry dies on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she roughly grabs Caroline and pulls her to the bar. She doesn’t get drunk often, hadn’t planned on doing it tonight but she’s so tired of feeling.

“Maybe we should cut you off,” Caroline says softly and Azzi pouts, “c’mon Azzi drinking so you don’t have to deal with your feelings is never a good idea you know that. You know I’m right.”

“I’m really tired of doing what’s right,” Azzi says despondently, waving the bartender over, “a shot of tequila please.”

Caroline sighs but seems to think better of trying again, shaking her head no when the bartender asks if she wants a drink of her own. She watches silently as Azzi downs the shot, concern and sympathy for her friend keeping her from snatching the shot away from Azzi.

“On me,” a deep voice echoes in Azzi’s ear as she pulls out her card to pay for the shot. She loses balance trying to turn around, but a pair of unfamiliar hands grab at her waist to keep her steady. Through the fuzziness in her brain, Azzi finds herself staring into green eyes; green eyes that belong to a pretty girl with blond hair and strong arms. And she’s tall, a voice in her brain says appreciatively. She looks just like Paige, well except the eyes, another less-amused voice points out. But she’s not Paige is she, the other voice reminds her snarkily.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Azzi hears Caroline say from behind, her voice weirdly pitched.

“I want to,” the pretty girl says, eyes never leaving Azzi, as she hands her card over to the bartender “I’m Stephanie.”

“Azzi.”

“And is the girl behind you, your girlfriend Azzi?” Stephanie asks, but her tone suggests she already knows.

“Who? Caroline. Oh absolutely not. Just a friend.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I don’t dance with pretty girls with girlfriends,” Stephanie says, emphasising the word pretty.

“We’re not dancing,” Azzi replies dumbly.

“Well let’s fix that,” Stephanie whispers and oh, she’s flirting, Azzi realises. It’s not that Azzi’s never had anyone hit on her. No, there’d been plenty of men but there hadn’t been a girl before, well never a girl that wasn’t Paige, “dance with me Azzi.”

Behind Azzi, Caroline chokes on air.

“Azzi,” she hisses, her eyes flickering over to where Paige is sitting, back turned to the bar. The point guard hasn’t seen what’s happening yet but Caroline knows the moment she catches wind of it, things would go up in quite literal flames.

Azzi stares up at Stephanie’s expectant eyes, before letting her gaze move to Paige, Paige who’s engrossed in a conversation with Layla, who’s laughing at something Layla said. She turns back to Stephanie, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“I’d love to dance,” she says softly, ignoring the groan Caroline lets out behind her and letting Stephanie pull her to the dance floor. Two can play the move on game.

Dancing with Stephanie is different. Her hands feel different against Azzi’s skin, a little too rough and yet still too soft. Her smile is different, sexy and sultry but missing an innocent frivolity that Azzi had become used to. But most of all it’s the eyes. The mysterious green, a sharp contrast from the calm, familiar blue. She pushes the comparisons to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the way Stephanie twirls her around then pulls her in. And then they’re suddenly so close, noses almost touching. Azzi knows what’s going to happen and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s not right.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Stephanie whispers and the voices in Azzi’s head battle, her heart beating to a chorus of she’s not Paige. But the final nail in the coffin is an image of Paige and Layla that her brain conjures up and in an envious drunken haze, Azzi makes another of her not so great decisions. She nods her head yes.

It takes a second of Stephanie’s lips pressing against hers for Azzi to know it’s all wrong. As she starts pulling away, the sound of shattering glass wreaks havoc in ears. Eyes blinking rapidly, she follows the path of familiar voices shouting to locate the noise. Paige stands, a little distance away from the dance floor, face fuming red. A litany of broken glass shards surround her feet and a gush of red flows from the patch of skin where her left thumb meets her left palm.

“Paige, fuck,” concerns flows through Azzi but before she can make her way to the bleeding girl, Stephanie pulls her back in.

“Meet me outside in a bit yeah,” she says with a devilish smirk. She doesn’t give Azzi a chance to respond, before disappearing out of sight. Azzi blinks dumbfoundedly at the spot where the girl had previously been, the alcohol catching up to her brain.

“Paige oh my god you’re bleeding,” Nika’s voice shakes Azzi out of her trance, “can someone get a band-aid please.”

The crowd parts seamlessly as Azzi rushes towards her best friend, grabbing for her injured left hand.

“What the hell Paige?” she’s incredibly sober now, as she inspects Paige’s hand before it’s yanked out of her grip.

“I should ask you that. What. The. Hell. Azzi?” fury laces every word as Paige stares her down.

“I– what?” Azzi asks quizzically, still focused on trying to grab Paige’s hand again but the blonde girl is determined, despite wincing, to keep it out of her reach.

“Tell me, was she a good kisser?” Paige asks, eyes narrowing dangerously, “did you enjoy the kiss?”

“That’s–I–it–that’s not important,” Azzi stutters, “you’re bleeding Paige.”

“And I’ll keep bleeding till you answer the damn question,” the blonde girl says, unveiling a side of herself Azzi's never seen, “so tell me Azzi, was it a good kiss?”

“Paige,” Caroline says firmly, noticing the crowds that are building up around them, “I don’t think now’s the time.”

“No, I think it’s the perfect time actually. If she can kiss a stranger now, she can answer a question about this kiss now too,” Paige sneers.

“You’re making a scene,” Azzi whispers.

“I’m making a scene?” the laugh Paige lets out is borderline manic, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one borderline dry-humping a stranger in the middle of a random bar and I’m making a scene?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi recoils.

“Just telling the truth. Where’d she go then? Is she waiting for you outside?” when Azzi doesn’t reply, Paige find her answer in the silence and let’s out another laugh, “she is, isn’t she? Well then what the fuck are you doing here Azzi?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, eyes brimming with tears now, “you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“No, I don’t need your help Azzi.”

“Paige,” she tries again.

“No Azzi. I don’t need you. Go get fucking laid,” the words snap something in Azzi that has been on the edge of breaking since Paige had told her she wanted something else. She steps back from the blonde girl, blood boiling.

“You know what Paige,” her voice is far stronger than she feels, “maybe I fucking will.”

***

“Fuck,” Paige curses, fisting her palms and then hissing when her left hand aches. Regret pulsates through her head. She hadn’t meant it, any of it but especially not the last part. The last thing she wanted was Azzi to go after that girl.

Watching Azzi kiss someone else had been enough torture, the idea of her doing anything more would be the end of Paige’s sanity. It was ingrained in her brain now. She’d been laughing with Layla, hands encased around a beer bottle and then her teammates had gone oddly quiet, their eyes focused on something behind her. Confused, Paige had turned and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor was her Azzi, in somebody else’s arms. Layla, the saviour she’d been the last couple days, had immediately tried to distract her but Paige’s gaze was transfixed on Azzi. Her best friend twirled on the dance floor and a dagger twisted in Paige’s heart. And then, time seemed to slow down as the other girl brough Azzi impossibly close to her. Don’t you fucking dare Paige had thought, squeezing the glass bottle like a stress toy. On the dance floor, someone else, someone who wasn’t Paige, pressed their lips to Azzi’s and on the other side, Paige’s hands crushed the glass bottle into a thousand pieces.

When Azzi looked over, her lipstick slightly smudged, her eyes glassy, Paige had wanted to die. And when the girl had the audacity to pull Azzi back into her, Paige had wanted to commit murder. Misery and fury raged a battle in her head and when Azzi had rushed over, the gentle touch of her hand had been too much. And then Paige had taken it too far.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she repeats, ignoring her teammates as she fights through the crowd to chase after Azzi. Some people move easily, others glare and some flat out yell at her but Paige doesn’t care; she focuses solely on getting to the girl she’d just let go.

“Azzi?” she calls out, stepping out of the bar into the cold breeze, “please, please, please don’t go. Azzi?”

She scans the parking lot for the brunette, frantically pacing around the entrance but there’s no sign of Azzi. Paige hasn’t cried since the night she’d ended it, throwing herself in work and basketball and Layla but as the realisation that Azzi left, that maybe it’s too late, hits her, the tears she’d so carefully kept at bay, traipse down her cheeks like a never ending waterfall.

***

The whole team is silent in the living room as Nika bandages Paige’s left hand. The tension in the air is palpable as Amari paces the room, the sounds of her feet moving matching the rhythm of Aubrey nervously snacking on a packet of chips.

“Are you going to explain yourself,” Aaliyah breaks through the quiet, her question directed at Paige.

“It was an accident,” Paige doesn’t mean to get defensive. She’s aware she fucked up tonight but there’s too much going on and her head is still stuck at Azzi. Azzi, who had left with a random girl and only texted Caroline the words I’m fine after Caroline had blown up her phone with concerned texts. Paige’s I’m sorry, hadn’t gotten any reply.

“An accident,” Aaliayh says slowly, raising an eyebrow, “that’s what you’re going with?”

“I didn’t purposely break a glass bottle and fuck up my thumb Aaliyah.”

“Coach is going to kill you,” Aubrey says nervously, “this is not good Paige.”

“Did I miss the gang up on Paige memo? Because why am I the one being yelled at right now?”

“Who’s yelling?” Amari supplies unhelpfully.

“That’s not the point,” Paige glares at the taller girl who puts her hands up in defeat, “Why am I the one getting this responsibility lecture? I’m not the one who just made out with a random stranger in a bar and then just fucking left with them. We don’t even know where the hell she is.”

She knows she sounds bitter but the hurt of the night still stings and she doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with her teammates being mad at her rightnow. Tomorrow, she’d apologise and own up but she’s feeling reckless tonight. Her teammates are silent and Paige thinks, maybe they’re going to drop it too. And then Caroline speaks, her voice steely in a way that doesn’t match her normally soft sweet self.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she meets Paige’s eyes with an unexpected fierceness, “she’s single. Stephanie as far as I know is single. Azzi’s a grown adult who can hook up with whoever the hell she feels like. It’s not just something you can do.”

“That’s not the point,” Paige growls, “”you guys always know where I-”

“I know exactly where Azzi is actually,” Caroline rebuts , “so what exactly is the problem here?”

“She– I– It’s,” Paige bumbles on, not having an actual answer.

“You’re the one who ended it,” Caroline says, her voice accusatory, and the whole room seems to hold their breath at that, “you ended it and you don’t get to question what she does now. It’s over Paige and that was your decision.”

Paige gapes at Caroline, “how can you, of all people, say that to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the only one who knows Carol,” Paige says slowly and it’s Carol’s turn to be confused now. The rest of the team shoots each other questioning glances, things suddenly seeming even more puzzling than before.

“I heard you that night,” the blonde girl says, her voice breaking a little, “I heard you and Azzi.”

“Paige,” Caroline says, always quick to catch things, “what exactly did you hear?”

“I heard enough,” Paige says, closing her eyes because she can still hear that conversation in her head, “I heard her telling you she was going to end it, that she was tired of our arrangement. That she wanted– she needed– something else.”

“Oh Paige,” Nika says softly, putting an arm around Paige’s shoulders and her twin practically melts into the comforting touch.

“But I know her. She’s not good at that stuff. Always such a people pleaser. It was gonna be too hard for her to say it to me, so I said it for her. I broke my own heart, so she didn’t have to.”

A heavy silence follows Paige’s words as the blonde girl lets the tears fall for the second time that night. Her teammates are lost for words, the gravity of the situation, of Paige’s feelings, too much for all of them. A myriad of emotions flitter across Caroline’s face before finally settling on a saddened sympathy.

“Paige,” she says softly, coming to sit in front of the sobbing point guard, “you didn’t hear the whole conversation. God you’re such an idiot, the both of you are honestly.”

“Talk about kicking me when I’m down Carol,” Paige jokes.

“That’s not– Paige I can’t tell you the whole conversation because you deserve to hear it from her and she deserves the chance to say it to you. But Paige, Azzi wasn’t going to end it because she wanted less, she was going to end it because she wanted more. From you, for both of you,” Caroline says, hoping against hope that Paige understands what she means.

The realisation hits Paige in waves. She wants more. The words echo through her head and carve out a place in her heart. She wants more. Azzi had wanted more and Paige had wanted more and oh, they’d been so fucking stupid.

“I pushed her too far though,” Paige says as another realisation, the fact that Azzi isn’t here hits her, “she’s gone. Fuck, I need to be alone.”

“No Paige wai-” Caroline begins but Paige is gone out the door before she can tell the girl where Azzi is. She considers going after Paige but decides that maybe she’s revealed enough today. Maybe they could figure out the rest of it by themselves.

***

She’d meant to go to her own apartment, to her own room but her feet had a mind of their own, bringing her to Azzi’s instead. It was muscle memory really, her finding Azzi when she needed to be held. Except, there would be no Azzi to hold her tonight. Still, being in her room, where it smelt like her, Paige could pretend. She’d gotten pretty good at that.

The door opens smoothly as Paige slides into the room. And she almost gasps.

In the dim light of the night lamp, Azzi lies curled up in bed. She’s cuddling a pillow to her chest, her blanket pulled up to her neck with one hand slightly out of it. And she’s wearing one of Paige’s shirts,

She’s the most beautiful girl Paige has ever seen.

Carefully, trying to make as little sound as possible, Paige creeps closer to the sleeping girls. She can vaguely make out the tear tracks running down Azzi’s face and the guilt of it runs through Paige. A part of her thinks, maybe she should leave, wait til tomorrow. But she can’t. Instead she grabs one of Azzi’s shirts that lay scattered on the bean bag chair placed at the end of the bed. Quietly, she changes into it, breathing in the scent of all things Azzi.

“Paige.” Azzi whispers groggily as Paige slips underneath the covers, lying down facing the sleeping girl.

“Yeah,” Paige replies softly, caressing Azzi’s cheeks, “it’s me.”

“It’s not,” Azzi says wistfully, eyes still closed, as she wraps an arm around Paige’s torso, “it’s just me dreaming again.”

“You dream about me?” Paige asks, hating the hurt she can hear in Azzi’s voice.

“Mmm,” comes Azzi’s answer as she snuggles further into Paige, “all the time. I’ll take you however I can get you Paige. Even if it's a dream. Even if you’re not here in the morning.”

“I will be tomorrow. I promise,” Paige presses a kiss to the top of Azzi’s head and the darker skinned girl lets out a content sigh but Paige can tell she still thinks she’s dreaming, that she still thinks she’ll wake up alone tomorrow.

But Paige Bueckers doesn’t break promises. She’d be right there with Azzi tomorrow morning and if things went the way she wanted them to, then she’d be there for every morning after.

***

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in weeks and Paige wakes up in a complete state of serenity. It doesn’t last long when she blindly feels around the bed for Azzi’s warm body, only to find the cool of empty sheets under her head instead. She jolts up frantically, mind going million miles an hour thinking up the worst possibilities. Her heartbeat begins to calm down as she finally finds the brunette curled up on the bean bag chair with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Hey,” Paige breathes out, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face. Azzi doesn’t smile back

“What are you doing here Paige?” Azzi asks warily and Paige is instantly defensive.

“What are you doing here Azzi? Didn’t you say you were going to get laid?”

“And what if I did?”

“Well it must not have been very good if you came home that early and put on another girl’s shirt,” Paige says pointedly, amused by the pink that appears on Azzi’s cheeks. She knows the other girl’s lying, it’s just a matter of how long she’ll keep up the ruse.

“I grabbed whatever was closest.”

“Is that so?” Paige quirks an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t stand for it, letting the girl I’d just fucked wear someone else’s clothes. You know that.”

Azzi’s blush intensifies and she’s quick to change topics, “does your girlfriend know you snuck into another girl’s room last night?”

“I wasn’t aware I had a girlfriend,” Paige says, confused by the question.

“So what exactly is Layla then?”

“She’s a friend.”

“Yeah right,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes. Paige stares at her best friend, wondering if she’s gone insane. Her and Layla? Even thinking about it felt a little insane. Sure, she’d slept with the girl a couple of times her freshmen year but even that had felt insanely platonic.

“Az,” she says softly when the realisation sinks in, “Layla is not my girlfriend. She’s– well, I guess she’s my escape? I just– I needed a friend who wasn’t also your friend and she was there and it was easy. You really thought she was my girlfriend?”

“What was I supposed to think Paige?” Azzi says miserably, voice rising with each word, “you said you needed something else and Layla’s something else so I put two and two together and apparently came up with five.”

“I didn’t–,” Paige takes in a deep breath, it was now or never, “I thought you were gonna break my heart.”

“What?”

Paige sighs at the incredulity in Azzi’s voice, “I overheard you telling Carol that you were gonna end it with me, that you needed something else.”

“Oh,” she can see the clogs in Azzi’s brain turning, remembering exactly which conversation Paige is talking about.

“Yeah. So I ended it before you could. I couldn’t let you– I didn’t want you to break my heart,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s eyes.

“So you broke mine instead?” Azzi whispers and Paige doesn’t have to see the girl to know there are tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t realise it was mine to break,” Paige shrugs brokenly, eyes finally looking at Azzi through wet eyelashes.

They stare at each other in silence, hearts beating erratically, both of them waiting to see who’ll make the first move. Finally, Azzi stands up, and for once second, the fear that she’s about to walk away, that it really was too late, fogs Paige’s mind. But she doesn’t and instead Paige watches mesmerised, as Azzi slowly climbs onto the bed and then onto Paige’s lap. She arranges her legs so she’s straddling Paige’s thighs and her arms fall naturally around Paige’s neck. Immediately, Paige’s hands move to grip Azzi’s waist. They stay there like that for a while, foreheads resting against each other, basking in the warmth of finally being so close.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Azzi confesses finally and Paige lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, “I thought about it but then I was in her car and all I could think about was you. I think you might have ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good. Because this is it okay? You and me forever,” Paige juts out a pinky and Azzi immediately links it with her own.

“Forever,” Azzi whispers back and it’s not clear who surges forward first but then they’re kissing and it feels like a brand new adventure and coming home all at once. They melt into each other, gripping each other as close as possible, the overwhelming need to be touching everywhere taking over their senses.

“Azzi,” Paige pulls away and almost laughs at the way Azzi pouts, “I need you to say it.”

Azzi’s eyes twinkle with happiness, a spark only Paige can bring out in them. She leans in, the feel of her breath sending shivers of anticipation up Paige’s spine.

“Wanna play ball?” she whispers sensually. Paige lets out an irritated whine and Azzi bursts out laughing, hiding her face in the crook of Paige’s neck.

“Seriously,” Paige groans, pinching Azzi’s waist, but she’s unable to keep the amusement out of her own voice. She hasn’t seen Azzi this happy in so long and if Azzi’s happy, well then everything in Paige’s world is going right. The younger girl’s giggles slowly subside, as her face takes on a more serious expression.

“Paige Madison Bueckers,” she says, cupping Paige’s face, “you’re my best friend, my soulmate and I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life. And I’m about to be real cliché here so don’t laugh but baby, I want your face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see every night. I want you at your best but even more at your worst. I want everything as long as it’s with you. Because I am so completely, and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

“When did you become such a poet Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her smile widening when Azzi laughs again, “I’m so completely and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

Paige recaptures Azzi’s lips with her own, pulling her girl as close to her as she can. The kiss is sweet and a little salty from the happy tears running down both their faces. It’s innocent and lazy, and still sloppy and passionate. It’s everything.

“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll kill you,” Azzi says, only half joking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Paige promises, “you’re stuck with me for life.”

***

A/N: Congratulations on making it to the end of that! I'm ngl, I love the concept but I don't think I wrote it out particularly well but I had fun writing it so hopefully y'all enjoyed reading it. I promise the next one will be more happy. But for now, I hope this was worth it <3.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

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