#kati watches something live

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

Alex on a Mission [X]

[hauntingblue]

Rewatching act 2.... yeah ISHA WATCH OUT FOR THE CYCLE ISHA!!!!! NOOOOO

[pitlanepeach]

From Eden | Chapter Four (4/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Summary — Francesca Gold is an introvert with a quiet life and a Youtube channel where she talks about books, drinks too much tea, and rarely ever shows her face. She prefers it that way - tucked into her London flat with her cat, Henry, and safely hidden behind a screen.

Oscar Piastri is a Formula 1 driver. Fast-paced, high-stakes, always on the move. He hasn't read a book in years, but he's watched every single one of Francesca's videos. Just for the sound of her voice.

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings — Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety. A glimpse into a therapy session. Mentions of racing accidents. A tiny bit of angst, and then lots of fluffiness.

Notes — Yes. It happens. It finally happens. Our babies MEET. Also: I’m spoiling you all with these updates, but I’m writing like a mad woman atm. I wrote 3/4 of this chapter after work today.

Oscar’s face filled her screen, his hair mussed, white t-shirt hanging loose around his neck. The hotel lamp behind him cast a soft golden glow, and his voice was low and tired when he said, “Hey.”

Francesca smiled without meaning to, her laptop perched on her thighs and a mug balanced precariously on the arm of the sofa. “Hey. You sound half-asleep.”

He shrugged one shoulder, a lazy smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m not. Just tired. Long day.”

She hummed, shifting her laptop slightly. “You didn’t have to call me tonight. I know you’ve got another early start tomorrow.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, like it wasn’t even a question. 

They fell into a lull, not uncomfortable. Oscar reached for something offscreen — probably a bottle of water — while Francesca scrolled back through the rough notes she’d been making for her book. Her screen glowed faintly, a scattered mess of plot threads, character traits, and one lonely bullet point that just said: Let them kiss, eventually.

“What are you working on?” Oscar asked, his voice soft, easy. His thumb rested against his cheek as he watched her like she was the most interesting thing on screen—not whatever was playing on Netflix in the background.

Francesca laughed quietly, the sound half-nervous, half-flattered. Her neck flushed warm. “The outline. For the book.”

“Ah, yes. The very-big-deal-but-trying-to-play-it-cool publisher thing.” His grin was lopsided and teasing, but his eyes were full of something else — something that made her stomach flutter. She’d told him about it the second Katie had left, unable to keep it to herself. That had been two weeks ago.

“Have you figured out the, uh, plot yet?” he asked, genuine curiosity softening the teasing.

“Sort of,” she said, chewing the inside of her cheek. “It’s messy right now. But I keep thinking about how to write two people who don’t make sense on paper. Like — different lives, different worlds. But they find this… perfect little space where things make sense. With each other.”

Oscar’s eyes held hers for a moment, steady. “That sounds good. Familiar.” 

She blushed, immediately looked back at her screen. “It’s just a first draft. I probably won’t like it by next week.”

He grinned. “Can I be the first to read it?”

“You don’t even read.” She shot back.

“I’d read anything if you were the one to write it.”

Francesca tried to hide the way her breath caught, but it was pointless — the screen was too intimate. Too real.

Oscar must have noticed. Instead of pushing, he leaned back against the headboard, stretching out those long limbs. “You’ve got your book. I’ve got my races. We’re both booked and busy for the next few months, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “But… it feels a little less overwhelming when I’m talking to you.”

His brows lifted — like he hadn’t expected her to say that out loud.

She bit her lip. “Too much?” She was always second-guessing what she should and shouldn’t say to him. This whole getting to know each other while also maybe-flirting thing was still very new to her.

“No,” he said, his voice low, warm, and firmer than usual. “Not even a little.”

The screen flickered slightly as he shifted beneath the covers, yawning into his shoulder. “You keep working. I’m just gonna close my eyes and listen to you type. Don’t mind me.”

Utterly ridiculous.

She watched him through the screen, his face half-shadowed in the low hotel light, eyes still closed. For a minute, she just listened to the sound of his breathing, even and slow.

Then, before she could second-guess herself, she asked — quietly, like the question was delicate in her mouth, “If we’re both this busy… how are we going to make it work? The — uh — us meeting thing…”

Oscar’s eyes opened, slow and steady. He looked right at her — really looked. All the sleepiness disappeared in an instant.

“When you’re ready,” he said, voice steady and certain. “When you say the word — I’ll make it happen, Francesca.”

Francesca swallowed. “Even if it’s… months from now?”

“Yeah,” he said without hesitation. “Next week, six months. Next year.” He stressed the words. “When you’re ready, I’ll find the time. I’ll show up. I’ll be there.”

She blinked, unsure what to say, a warmth blooming somewhere deep in her chest. No one had ever spoken to her like that — like effort was the bare minimum, like she was worth rearranging a life for.

He smiled then, softer now. “You’re not something I’m just squeezing in whenever I have a spare five minutes, Francesca.”

She lowered her gaze to her laptop screen, biting back a ridiculous smile. “You really know how to mess with a girl’s focus, Piastri.”

His laugh was quiet, happy. “Good.”

—

Francesca sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop propped up on a stack of pillows. Sunlight filtered through the half-open curtains, painting soft, warm streaks across her duvet. Dr. Kapoor’s face filled the screen, serene and steady as always.

“You mentioned last time that you were ready to try something new,” she said gently, “something uncomfortable.”

Francesca nodded, fingers toying with the edge of the pillow she was hugging to her stomach. “Yeah,” she said. “I went for this, uh, stupid little walk. Literally just to the postbox at the end of my street and then straight back.”

Dr. Kapoor smiled. “A walk isn’t stupid.”

“No,” Francesca agreed with a small huff, “but it was hard. That’s what’s stupid.” She paused, then added, “I was out of the flat for ten minutes, maybe. No headphones. I looked at people.” Her voice dropped slightly, like saying it too loudly might unravel the fragile progress she’d made. “I didn’t turn around early. I wasn’t sick in my neighbours bush.”

Dr. Kapoor’s expression softened. “That’s a big deal, Francesca. How did you feel afterwards, once you got home?”

“Proud,” she admitted, wringing her hands together. “Also like I might never do it again.”

She laughed lightly. “You’ll do it again. Pride is a very strong motivator.”

Francesca hummed. “I journaled after. Like we talked about.”

“And what did you write?”

“That I was scared,” she said, looking down. “And I didn’t die. And I didn’t need anyone to come get me. I did it alone. It felt… weird. Good weird. Kind of.”

There was a long pause as Dr. Kapoor took that in. “That’s a great self-reflection. Honest.”

Francesca stared at a little chip in her nail polish. “I have spent years waiting for things to just magically get easier,” she said eventually. “Like one day, I’d wake up and it just wouldn’t be hard anymore. But that’s not going to happen, is it? Not even when I’m taking medication.”

“No,” Dr. Kapoor said, not unkindly. “It won’t. Not like that.”

The lump in Francesca’s throat tightened, but she nodded. She didn’t cry. That was something.

“Do you want to try something bigger this week?” Dr. Kapoor asked.

Francesca’s eyes flicked to the corner of the screen, to her own pale reflection. “Define bigger.”

“How would you feel about a short café visit? Ten minutes. Order something. Sit alone.”

Francesca blanched. “Oh god.”

“Trying is the goal,” Dr. Kapoor said warmly. “Not perfection. Not comfort. Just the attempt. You can always walk to the cafe and then go straight home. You could get a to-go drink. Or you could sit inside and just let yourself take up the space that you’re entitled to.”

Francesca gave a little shrug. “Would it be cheating if I wore my headphones and took a book with me?”

“Not cheating,” her therapist assured her. “That’s a very common coping mechanism. Just don’t let yourself  disappear into it. Try to take notice of the world around you, too.”

She managed a smile. It was small, but real. “Okay. Ten minutes. Book optional.”

Dr. Kapoor’s voice gentled again. “Is there anything else that you’d like to talk about?”

Francesca hesitated. Her thumb ran over the stitching on the pillow in slow, nervous circles. “I said yes to doing something,” she said finally. “To… meet someone new. Not soon, but eventually. I want to be braver by then.”

There was a quiet moment between them.

“Why?” Dr. Kapoor asked gently. “What is making you think that you need to be braver than you already are?”

Francesca blinked, her breath leaving her in a soft exhale. “I don’t know.”

“We’ve already talked about the book deal.” Dr. Kapoor recalled. “Taking on a project like that has taken a lot of bravery. Going for your walk? That took a lot of bravery too.” She pointed out. “I think, perhaps, you’re underestimating how much better you’re doing recently, Francesca. Six months ago, you couldn’t walk out of your front-door.”

Francesca stared at a small smudge on the screen. “I don’t notice it, when I’m doing well.” 

“Well,” Dr. Kapoor said, with an encouraging nod. “I’ve noticed it. I’m telling you. You are doing well.” 

Francesca smiled. 

— 

Francesca was curled up on her sofa, half-watching the podium interviews and half-scrolling through messages when Oscar’s name lit up her phone screen.

She found that she was smiling before she even answered.

He looked exhausted, glowing with sweat — post-race adrenaline still clinging to him. His cap was backwards, damp curls sticking out at the edges. “Hey,” he said, eyes bright. “Did you see that overtake?”

Francesca laughed. “Crofty lost his mind, Osc.” She stared at him, feeling ridiculously fond. “Yeah. I saw.”

Oscar beamed. “Felt pretty good. Not gonna lie.”

“You looked like you were flying out there,” she told him, her voice light. “Literally, at some points. I don’t understand how you can go around corners so fast and not just, like… tip over or something.”

Oscar huffed a quiet laugh. “Nah, only amateurs tip their cars on the apex.”

Francesca flushed. “Oh, shut up.”

There was a beat of silence, then his expression softened, dimples barely visible beneath the shadow of his cap. “Thanks for watching.”

She looked down, fingers tightening around her phone. “You don’t have to thank me. I like watching you.” She hesitated, then added with a small smile, “I might need to send a scathing email to Sky Sports, though. They don’t show you nearly enough on the main broadcast. I can’t deal with the onboard — makes me nauseous.”

He chuckled, low and warm, the sound curling around her ribs. “Yeah, I’d rather you didn’t ride onboard with me, honestly. If something happened—” He broke off suddenly, jaw tightening. His eyes flicked away like he’d said too much.

The air between them shifted.

Her stomach dropped. It was too easy to forget what he did. To pretend, for her own comfort, that it was safe. Controlled. Not dangerous.

She sucked in a slow breath, already feeling the panic creeping in at the edges. “I’ll call you later,” she said quickly, before he could say anything else. Before she could spiral.

Then she ended the call—like a coward.

— 

The paddock buzzed with celebration after Ferrari’s victory, but Oscar barely noticed. He moved quickly, head down, nodding absently at a few crew members as he passed. Lando’s driver’s room door was half-shut, muffled music playing from inside.

Oscar knocked once, then let himself in.

Lando looked up from where he was sprawled on the small couch, a half-finished protein shake in hand. “Alright, mate,” he said. “Don’t you have some post-race debrief to be at?”

Oscar shut the door behind him. “I need to talk to you.”

Lando sat up, brows lifting. “Francesca?”

Oscar nodded once. He didn’t sit — just crossed the room and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “She hung up on me. We were talking after the race. I said something—about my onboard camera, how I didn’t want her watching it, just in case something ever happened. She went quiet. Said goodbye. Ended the call.”

Lando frowned. “You think you freaked her out?”

“I know I did.” Oscar dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s so easy to forget how not-normal this sport is to normal people.”

Lando set his drink down. “Right. I get that. She’ll probably get used to it though, yeah? I’ve had girlfriends freak out about it too, but once they realise how rare the big crashes are—”

“This isn’t like that,” Oscar cut in, quieter now. “She’s not just someone I met last weekend.” He hesitated, then added, “She’s got her stuff. Anxiety — a lot of it. She doesn’t really leave her flat much. But she’s trying. She’s been pushing herself and… I think I went too far with it.”

Lando was quiet, thoughtful for once. “Okay. Give her space. Let her process. But don’t vanish on her. Send her a message. Let her know you’re still here. Let her decide when to come back in.”

Oscar let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk. “It’d be so much easier if she liked F1.”

“She doesn’t need to like F1,” Lando said with a small, knowing smirk. “She likes you.”

Oscar exhaled through his nose, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He turned toward the door, hand on the handle, then paused. “You ever think this job makes it impossible to have a normal relationship?”

“All the time,” Lando said, not even pretending otherwise. “But look at Max. Lewis. Charles. They’ve all figured it out. Doesn’t mean it’s easy. Just means it’s possible.”

Oscar nodded once, not quite smiling, but something close. “Yeah. Alright.”

Then he left — already reaching for his phone.

—

iMessage — Oscar & Francesca 

Oscar: 

I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn’t even mean to say it. I’m so used to the people I care about being used to this stuff. I didn’t think. I’m sorry. 

Francesca:

pls don’t say sorry. im the one who should be sorry. i shouldn’t have hung up. i just felt myself getting worked up and that’s embarrassing, lol. i felt silly for it 

Oscar: 

You’re not silly. I promise. 

Francesca: 

um. quick question. when is your next bit of time off? 

Oscar: 

?

Francesca: 

i want you to come to london, osc

i need this to be real. 

Oscar: 

Wednesday?

Francesca: 

which wednesday? 

Oscar:

As in three days from now 

That Wednesday 

Francesca: 

Oscar.

Oscar: 

You said the words. No taking them back now. 

Send me your address. Don’t overthink this. 

I’ll call you in an hour, yeah? Just got a few more things to do before going back to the hotel

Francesca: 

okay <3

— 

iMessage — Francesca & Katie

Francesca: SOS actual sos mayday mayday girl down

Katie: …what happened did henry throw up on your laptop again

Francesca: OSCAR IS COMING TO LONDON TO MY FLAT ON WEDNESDAY AS IN. WEDNESDAY. IN THREE (3) DAYS. TO MY HOME. WHERE I LIVE.

Katie: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I AM CALMLY SCREAMING

Francesca: i said the words like an idiot “i want you to come to london, osc” WHO EVEN AM I

Katie: i’m so proud of you

Francesca: i just stood there staring at my mirror for 11 minutes trying to decide if i should buy new sheets WHAT IF HE THINKS MY PILLOWS ARE WEIRD or what if henry bites him or what if i bite him

Katie: … fran.

Francesca: not in like a weird way i just i’m spiraling

Katie: you’re going to be FINE you like him he likes you he’s coming because he wants to not because your pillowcases are perfectly crisp

Francesca: but they’re not though they’re old and faded and they have little stars on them

Katie: which is exactly the kind of thing a soft boy in love would find charming now breathe make your outline order yourself some new teabags clean the bathroom and maybe light a candle

Francesca: i am lighting twelve candles. 

Katie: do not set your flat on fire before wednesday. he’s gonna fall in love with you, fran. just wait.

— 

iMessage — Oscar & Hattie

Oscar: Can I ask you something without you being annoying about it

Hattie: no promises x

Oscar: How do you know when something is real Like Not a fling Not a distraction But like. A real thing

Hattie: oh boy do i need to sit down for this

Oscar: I’m being serious There’s this girl Francesca I think I’ve mentioned her?

Hattie: only every time we talk lol go on

Oscar: She asked me to come to London To see her Like, properly Not just texting or FaceTiming anymore And I said yes. I am going. Wednesday

Hattie: wait THIS Wednesday?? as in three days??

Oscar: That’s the one We’ve both been busy. And now suddenly it’s happening. And I’m… I don’t know Excited. Nervous. Like I want to be good for her I want to make it easy

Hattie: Oof You’ve got it bad huh

Oscar: I think so She doesn’t have an easy time with people Or places She struggles with stuff But she’s let me in. Slowly And I just keep thinking If she’s brave enough to try I don’t want her to ever regret it 

Hattie: Wow Mum’s gonna lose her mind

Oscar: If you tell Mum before I do, I swear

Hattie: cross my heart but seriously you’re doing good and it is real because you care enough to ask all this just be gentle with her be yourself and don’t forget she has a cat

Oscar: I bought cat treats earlier Just in case

Hattie: I love that for you Let me know how it goes And if you panic and need someone to scream-text at, I’ll be on standby

Oscar: You’re a legend Thanks Hatt x

— 

iMessage — Oscar & Lando

Oscar: So I’m going to London on Wednesday

Lando: ok? for what? media? sim?

Oscar: To see Francesca

Lando: ??? WAIT LIKE SEE HER IN PERSON??

Oscar: Yes Lando In person With my eyes

Lando: bro it’s SUNDAY how did we go from “she hung up on me” to “I’m flying to a whole other country” in less than 2 hours

Oscar: She asked me to Said she wants this to feel real I told her to send her address and I’d be there

Lando: who are you and what have you done with my emotionally constipated teammate

Oscar: Growth x

Lando: ngl i’m kind of proud but also slightly terrified like you know you’re in deep, right?

Oscar: I’m aware Does it show

Lando: mate you just casually dropped that you’re making international travel plans because a girl said “I need this to be real” yes. it shows.

Oscar: I don’t want to mess it up

Lando: just be yourself and try not to talk about tyres during dinner or whatever

Oscar: Copy that

Lando: also tell her i can’t wait to meet her bring her to a race. eventually. when she’s ready

Oscar: One step at a time But yeah We’d have to work something out for her. To make it possible 

Lando: zac would sort something if u asked. i can always help out. she seems nice. worth it

Oscar: Thanks mate. She is 

—

Francesca stood in the middle of her living room, clutching a half-damp cloth and staring blankly at the coffee table she’d already wiped down three times. Henry was perched on the windowsill, tail flicking lazily, unimpressed by the chemical smell in the air. She’d cracked one of the windows open for him.

“Okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “Cool. This is better.”

The apartment smelled like fresh linen and lavender. She’d lit one of her aromatherapy candles — not a cheap supermarket one, but the fancy soy one she usually saved for special occasions or very bad days. The couch cushions had been fluffed. She’d washed her bedsheets, then panicked and washed them again. Just in case.

But now… now she didn’t know.

How was this supposed to go? 

Was he going to… stay in her apartment? Or was he just coming for the afternoon? She hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t said, and now it felt too late to bring it up without it being weird.

Would he eve want to stay with her?

Would that be too much? Too soon?

Francesca looked around her flat, and all she saw was a space that had, for a long time, been her sanctuary. Her bubble. Her little island of calm in a world that was too loud and too fast.

Letting someone into it — him, of all people — felt both right and utterly terrifying.

She moved into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and immediately closed it again. She didn’t even know what he liked. Was he a tea or coffee person? Did F1 drivers eat carbs? She only ate carbs.

“Get a grip,” she muttered, pressing her palms against her face. “It’s just Oscar.”

Still, her heart rattled against her ribs like it wanted to make a run for it.

She tried to shake it off — the nerves, the overthinking — but it clung to her like static. Taking a breath, she reminded herself of Katie’s advice from their last FaceTime: “Be more open. Talk to him when you start freaking out. He’ll appreciate it, and you’ll feel so much better for it.”

So, she reached for her phone. Hovered. Then typed — quickly, before she could spiral.

Francesca: hey, quick question. are you getting a hotel or do you want to stay with me? i totally don’t mind either way! just figuring out things out 

Her phone buzzed twenty minutes later — just as she was elbow-deep in laundry, holding a long-sleeved shirt like it had personally wronged her.

She wiped her hands on her joggers and grabbed the phone, pulse jumping.

Oscar: Hey, just boarding now — sorry for the delay. I’ve got a hotel booked, don’t worry. You don't need to worry about anything, actually. I never want you to feel pressured. We can do whatever feels right, okay? I’m just happy I get to see you.

Francesca stared at the screen, a strange pressure building behind her eyes. Relief, affection, nerves — all of it bundled up into one messy emotion that made her want to both laugh and cry.

She sat down on the couch, Henry immediately hopping up beside her and kneading at her thigh with his murder mittens.

Francesca: okay. thank you for being so normal about this (normal in a good way, not like, boring) also i am definitely spiralling a bit but trying to be chill about it. so you might be on your way to meet a full-blown anxious ghost x

Oscar: Lol You could be an actual ghost and I’d still like you I’ll text when I land x

She set her phone down again — more gently this time — and pushed down a girlish squeal. 

— 

Her phone rang again not long after Oscar’s message. She almost didn’t check it before answering — assuming it was Katie, maybe — but when she glanced at the screen and saw “Izzy (ugh)", her stomach sank.

She hesitated, thumb hovering. Then, stupidly, she answered.

“Francesca,” came the clipped voice, already laced with tension. “Mum wants to know if you’re going to bother coming in August, or if we should just stop asking.”

“I— I already told you that I probably won’t be able to make it,” Francesca said, already shrinking into herself.

Izzy sighed like she was exhausted. “It’s just rude, you know? You can’t keep isolating yourself and expecting everyone else to keep reaching out. I feel like we’re making all of the effort.”

Francesca said nothing.

“And honestly,” her sister continued, “you've turned yourself into some kind of influencer, and you post videos of yourself and pictures to thousands of people, but you can’t even make the effort to get over yourself and come to see us. Mum thinks you hate her.”

She felt the old heat behind her eyes, the way it always came — fast and uninvited. “What? No. Of course I don’t hate her. I’m just… I’m doing my best here, Izzy.”

“That’s not good enough forever, you know.”

The call ended five minutes later. It might as well have been one long exhale of shame.

Francesca sat for a while on the floor by the laundry basket, arms curled around her knees, trying not to cry. But Henry came to her again, head-butting her shin softly. And then she remembered: Oscar. On a plane, coming to see her. Choosing her. Wanting this.

She got up.

She wiped her face.

She washed her hands and re-tied her hair and changed into clean joggers. Then she took a deep breath and said to the empty flat, “he doesn’t get to meet that version of me today.”

Because maybe she couldn’t make her family understand her. But maybe she didn’t need to, not when someone else already seemed to — and liked her despite it all.

—

iMessage — Katie & Francesca

Katie: Hey, just checking in. How’s the heart rate? Has he landed yet??

Francesca: no idea. i think so? maybe? i’ve stress-cleaned everything. henry thinks i’m possessed or smth. also my sister called. so that was fun! but i’m… okay. i think. maybe.

Katie: Oh, babe. I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to say mean things about Izzy until you smile?

Francesca: i think i just needed to say it out loud to someone who gets it. i don’t want him to walk in and think i’m this emotional swamp of a person.

Katie: First of all, he won’t. Second of all, you’re allowed to be a little bit of a swamp. He likes you anyway. Third… you’re doing great. I’m so proud of you. Really.

Francesca: thank you okay. i’m gonna go stare at the door like a weirdo now

Katie: You got this ❤️ Call me later and tell me everything, okay? Even the awkward stuff.

Francesca: of course

— 

She heard the lift *ding* before she heard the knock.

The soft sound that made her stomach lurch.

Henry, traitorous and uninterested, didn’t even lift his head from the sunspot on the carpet.

Francesca stood in the middle of the living room, palms damp, jumper slightly too warm, and heart beating hard enough to echo.

Three gentle knocks. Measured. Like he wasn’t sure how loud to be.

She walked to the door before she could psych herself out.

And there he was.

Oscar, in a hoodie and a pair of loose sweatpants, hair slightly flattened and one hand gripping the handle of a duffle bag. He looked a little tired, a little travel-worn, and entirely too good.

He smiled, soft and a little unsure. “Hi, beautiful girl.”

She opened the door wider. “Hi.”

They stared at each other for a beat longer than necessary, until Oscar let out a breath and stepped inside. He didn’t touch her right away — just looked at her with that same warm focus she’d seen through every FaceTime screen.

“I didn’t know if I should hug you or—”

She stepped into him before he could finish, arms winding around his middle. He didn’t hesitate then — his duffle bag hit the floor and his strong arms encircled around her, sturdy and steady and real. She could feel his heart through his hoodie, fast like hers.

“Thanks for coming,” she mumbled, her voice catching.

He smiled into her hair, his hold on her tightening, and for a brief moment, she wondered how inappropriate it would be to ask him to never, ever let her go. “Thanks for letting me in.” He mumbled. 

They stayed there, tangled in the doorway, until Henry finally meowed in protest — as if to say shut the door, it’s cold — and Francesca laughed softly against his shoulder.

CHAPTER FIVE

[desperate-gay]

Katie McCabe, “You expect me to act sane when you show up to team bonding looking like that?” anywhere

In My Back Pocket

Katie McCabe x fem!reader

a/n: small but i wanted to give you guys something!

“Woah there, tiger. I feel like you’re flashing me with those.” Beth jokes, pointing down at your shorts.

You throw your head back with an embarrassed groan. “I know! But my washer broke, and I didn’t have time to get to the laundromat. These were the only weather-appropriate ones I had!”

“‘Appropriate’ is a strong word,” Beth teases, earning a glare from you across the room as you set down the snacks you brought.

The team had finally decided it was time for another bonding night, and everyone agreed Beth and Steph should host, especially since Beth has one of the nicest places around. You’re one of the last to arrive, thanks to your laundry mishap, which you’d hoped no one would notice. That wish didn’t last long.

Now, while everyone settles into the living room, laughing and debating which film to put on, you’re setting up the snack station in the kitchen alone.

You’re too lost in your own world to hear the approaching footsteps. So when a pair of hands suddenly grip your waist, you jump and quickly turn only to see Katie.

“Oh my god, you scared me.” You whisper, swatting her shoulder gently.

Katie just hums, eyes locked on the hem of your shorts, clearly admiring the curve of your thighs and the swell of your ass. Her hands trail from your hips to behind you, slipping into the back pockets of your jean shorts and giving a soft squeeze.

“Katie.” You scold in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one’s watching.

No one on the team knows about whatever it is that’s going on between you and Katie. You’re not sure if it’s just fooling around or something more exclusive—it’s too soon to tell, and honestly, you’re not pressed about it. You both know you’re not sleeping with anyone else, so there’s at least some unspoken understanding.

It all started when Katie’s Irish charm turned its full attention on you. The flirting was relentless, the touches even more so. And it was impossible not to fall for that cheeky grin—so you did. It’s been four months since the first night you hooked up, and whatever this is, it’s working for now.

“Someone could see.” You hiss, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands away from your shorts.

“You expect me to act sane when you show up to team bonding looking like that?” Katie smirks, leaning down to press teasing kisses to your neck.

You squirm slightly under her touch, biting back a smile. “I’m serious, Katie. This is risky.”

“And I’m serious when I say I couldn’t care less if someone sees. Maybe then Laia would stop flirting with you every chance she gets.”

You arch a brow, pulling back just enough to look at her face. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“It’ll look better than Beth’s couch will on your bare ass if you keep winding me up like this.” She mutters against your skin, lips brushing that sensitive spot just below your jaw.

Your breath catches for a second before you press your hands against her chest, gently but firmly pushing her back. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yet here you are.” Katie grins, finally stepping back with a cocky glint in her eye. “Can’t stay away.”

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through from the living room. “Oi, are the snacks coming sometime this century or what?”

It’s Beth. Of course it is. Biggest cockblock of the team.

You sigh and shoot Katie a warning glance. “Behave.”

“No promises.” She calls after you as you walk back toward the living room, hips swaying a little more than necessary—because if she’s going to play this game, you’re playing to win.

You catch Beth watching as you enter, eyebrows raised. “What, you miss me already?”

“Just making sure you didn’t get lost or kidnapped.”

Behind you, Katie strolls in with that same smug look plastered on her face. Beth’s eyes dart between the two of you, a flicker of suspicion flashing across her face. You’re quick to change the subject, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing it dramatically into your mouth.

“So, are we watching something with actual substance, or another one of Lia’s ‘emotional journey’ documentaries that’ll have us crying by the end?”

The room erupts in laughter, and just like that, the tension slips back beneath the surface. But you can still feel Katie’s gaze on you—hot, heavy, and full of promise.

And you know tonight’s going to be anything but simple.

[gpcwsl]

Leah Williamson x Reader

- Complete mess -

WC: 7.4k

MasterList

Warnings: long, kissing.

(Sorry for putting Leah as Captain for Arsenal, I know it’s Kimmy and I love Kim. Just for this Fiction, okay?)

The crisp afternoon air feels refreshing as you step onto the park path, your scarf wrapped snugly around your neck. It’s rare that you get a few hours to yourself, but with your mum looking after Ellie for the afternoon, you finally have a moment to breathe. You love your daughter more than anything, but between teaching, parenting, and making sure she never feels the absence of her father, you’re exhausted. A walk is exactly what you need.

You take a deep breath, allowing the cool air to clear your mind. The park is bustling, families with children running around, people walking their dogs, groups of friends chatting. You slip your hands into your coat pockets, lost in thought, when—

“Oof—sorry!”

You collide with someone, stumbling back slightly. Strong hands reach out to steady you, and when you look up, you find yourself face to face with none other than Leah Williamson.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, eyes widening. “You’re—”

Leah chuckles, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Yeah, sorry about that. Wasn’t paying attention.”

You shake your head, still in slight disbelief. “No, it’s fine. My fault too, I wasn’t really looking where I was going.”

She smiles, and that’s when you notice she’s not alone. Behind her stand a few more familiar faces—some of the Arsenal women’s team. Beth Mead, Katie McCabe, and Caitlin Foord, all chatting amongst themselves but now watching the interaction with curiosity.

“You alright?” Leah asks, her gaze soft as she takes in your expression.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, just… a little surprised. I didn’t expect to bump into Arsenal’s captain on my walk.”

Leah grins. “Well, we were just grabbing a coffee before training. You a football fan?”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, actually. I teach, so I don’t always get to watch live, but my daughter and I love the game.”

At the mention of your daughter, Leah’s expression shifts slightly—interest flickering in her eyes. “You have a daughter?”

You nod. “Ellie. She’s seven. My parents are watching her for a few hours, so I thought I’d take a walk.”

Leah tilts her head. “That’s nice. Must be busy juggling work and parenting.”

You smile wryly. “That’s an understatement.”

Before Leah can respond, Katie steps closer, nudging her with her elbow. “You gonna introduce us, or are we just standing here like weirdos?”

Leah rolls her eyes but turns back to you. “This is Katie, Beth, and Caitlin.”

You greet them, feeling slightly overwhelmed but also oddly comfortable. They’re just normal people—albeit incredibly talented ones.

“You should come to a match sometime,” Beth suggests. “Bring Ellie. If she likes football, she’d love it.”

Leah nods in agreement. “Yeah, we can sort something out. Maybe even a little meet-and-greet after.”

Your heart warms at the thought. “That would be amazing. She’d be over the moon.”

Leah smiles, her gaze lingering on you for a second longer than necessary before she shifts, glancing back at the others. “We should probably get going, but it was nice bumping into you. Literally.”

You laugh. “Yeah, you too.”

As they walk away, Leah turns back one last time. “Hey—maybe I’ll see you around?”

You don’t miss the hopeful tone in her voice.

“Maybe,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips.

And for the first time in a long while, something stirs in your chest—something that feels an awful lot like excitement.

With a lingering smile on your lips, you watch Leah and the rest of the Arsenal team walk away before exhaling a quiet breath. That was unexpected. You weren’t exactly the kind of person to bump into football stars on your afternoon walks. Yet, there you were, brushing shoulders with Leah Williamson like it was nothing.

You shake your head, trying to push away the fluttering feeling in your stomach. It’s been a while since anyone made you feel like that—since anyone looked at you the way Leah did, even if it was just for a moment.

Still, you have time to yourself, and you intend to make the most of it. Your stomach rumbles slightly, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten much today. Glancing around, you spot a cozy-looking café on the corner. It seems inviting, with warm lighting and a few people inside, chatting over coffee and pastries.

Without hesitation, you head inside.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wraps around you like a comforting embrace. You walk up to the counter, scanning the menu, before ordering a simple meal and a latte. As you wait, you feel the weight of a gaze on you—multiple, actually.

Unbeknownst to you, across the café, a certain group of footballers had chosen a table near the window. Leah, who had insisted they sit there in the first place, is completely distracted, her eyes fixed on you.

Katie notices first. “Alright, Leah, what’s with the staring?”

Leah blinks, as if she didn’t even realize she had been so obvious. She turns to her teammates, a slightly dazed expression on her face. “Did you see her?” she asks, as if it’s the most important question in the world.

Caitlin raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, mate. You literally ran into her.”

Leah shakes her head, leaning forward slightly. “No, but did you see her?”

Beth smirks, sipping her coffee. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, Captain.”

Leah exhales, running a hand through her hair. “Her eyes—did you see them? They’re unreal. And her features—like, how does someone look that effortlessly gorgeous? It’s unfair.”

Katie and Caitlin exchange amused glances.

“And her voice,” Leah continues, barely stopping for breath. “It’s so soft, but there’s something about it… like, I could listen to her talk all day. She just—” She sighs dramatically, shaking her head.

Beth snickers. “You’re actually down bad already.”

“I’m not—” Leah starts, but even she knows it’s a lie. She glances back at you, watching as you take your coffee and meal to a small table by the window, oblivious to the attention you’re getting. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear, the way your lips curl slightly when you take a sip of your drink—it’s all making Leah feel something she hadn’t expected.

Katie nudges her. “You should go talk to her again.”

Leah scoffs, though there’s a faint pink tint to her cheeks. “And say what? ‘Hey, I know we just met, but I think you might actually be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen’?”

Caitlin laughs. “Honestly, that might work.”

Beth shrugs. “Or, you know, you could just casually bump into her again. Since you’re so good at that.”

Leah rolls her eyes but doesn’t look away from you.

Because as much as she pretends otherwise, she already knows—this isn’t the last time she wants to see you.

You take a slow sip of your latte, letting the warmth settle inside you. It’s been a while since you’ve had a moment like this—just you, a quiet café, and no responsibilities tugging at your sleeve. But something tingles at the back of your mind, a feeling like you’re being watched.

Curious, you glance up, letting your gaze drift around the café. That’s when you spot them.

Leah and her teammates.

All of them are at a table near the window, and while Beth, Katie, and Caitlin are watching with amused grins, Leah is different. She’s frozen, eyes locked onto yours, a slight deer-in-headlights look on her face.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. Then, unable to help yourself, you offer a small wave, just a polite acknowledgment before turning back to your food.

Leah, however, doesn’t recover so quickly.

The second you wave, her entire body tenses. Then, as if her brain has only just caught up, her face flushes—deeply. She abruptly looks away, running a hand through her hair as if that will somehow cool down the sudden heat rushing to her face.

“Oh my God,” Katie cackles, nearly choking on her drink. “Leah. You’re actually blushing.”

Beth leans in, grinning. “That was so cute. She caught you staring, and instead of playing it cool, you turned into a human tomato.”

Leah exhales sharply, pressing her hands to her face for a second before dropping them. “Shut up.”

Caitlin smirks. “Breathe, mate. You’re looking a little overwhelmed there.”

Leah straightens, taking a deep breath as if it’ll help. It doesn’t. “I was not staring.”

Beth raises an eyebrow. “Right, and I’m not sitting here watching you have a full meltdown because she waved at you.”

Leah groans, resting her elbow on the table and dropping her face into her hand. “I hate you all.”

Leah peeks through her fingers, sneaking another glance in your direction. You’re focused on your food again, seemingly unbothered, but Leah’s mind is still spinning.

“She’s just…” Leah exhales, still pink in the face. “Really beautiful.”

Beth grins. “Yeah, we got that part.”

Caitlin nudges Leah’s foot under the table. “You gonna talk to her, or just keep embarrassing yourself from a distance?”

Leah huffs but doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she watches you, a small, almost shy smile creeping onto her lips.

Because, if she’s being honest, she’s already hoping for another chance to speak to you again.

The café is warm, but you know it’s time to go. You glance at your phone, checking the time. Still a little while before you need to pick up Ellie, but you’d rather take your time walking back.

Standing up, the chair scrapes loudly against the floor, breaking the quiet hum of conversation. Across the room, Leah looks up immediately, as if instinctively drawn to the sound. Her eyes track your movements as you push the chair back into place, gather your things, and head toward the bin in the corner to dispose of your rubbish.

And yet, without even trying, you do things that make Leah’s brain short-circuit.

The way you tuck your hair behind your ear while holding your bag. The casual way your fingers glide along the strap as you adjust it on your shoulder. The soft sigh you let out—like you’re lost in thought, unaware of the effect you’re having on her.

Leah swallows hard. God, she’s actually unreal.

Beth notices the way Leah is practically enchanted by you and smirks. She glances at Katie and Caitlin, exchanging a silent agreement before—

Shove.

Leah stumbles forward, nearly tripping over her own feet as she’s quite literally pushed in your direction.

“What the—” she starts, whipping her head back to glare at them, but it’s too late.

You’re already by the door, and now she’s standing right behind you.

You pause, sensing someone close, and turn—only to find Leah Williamson, cheeks slightly pink, looking… nervous?

You blink, surprised. “Leah?”

Leah clears her throat, forcing herself to hold eye contact despite the absolute chaos inside her head. “Uh—hi.”

You tilt your head slightly, amused. “Hi?”

Behind her, Beth is barely containing her laughter. Katie is grinning like an idiot. Caitlin is watching like this is the best entertainment she’s had in weeks.

Leah is so out of her depth. The fearless, confident player who commands the pitch like it’s her second home? She’s gone. What remains is a flustered, slightly panicked woman who desperately wants to get this right.

“I, um…” Leah rubs the back of her neck, eyes darting everywhere but at you. “I was just wondering if—uh—” She exhales sharply, shaking her head at herself. “Okay, this is embarrassing.”

You chuckle softly, and the sound makes Leah’s stomach do something weird.

“You okay there?” you ask, smiling, completely unaware of the absolute mess you’re making of her.

Leah straightens, trying to compose herself. “Yeah. Yeah, I just…” She takes a deep breath. Come on, Williamson, get it together.

She meets your eyes—God, those eyes—and blurts out, “Can I have your number?”

It’s not smooth. It’s not charming. In fact, it’s probably the most awkward she’s ever been.

But instead of laughing at her, you seem pleasantly surprised. “Oh,” you say, lips curling in a way that makes Leah’s brain melt. “Yeah, sure.”

She blinks. “Wait, really?”

You laugh again, pulling out your phone. “Yes, really.”

Leah quickly fumbles for her own phone, hands slightly shaky as she hands it to you. You type in your number, saving it before passing it back.

“There,” you say. “Now you can awkwardly text me later too.”

Leah groans, covering her face with her hand for a second. “I am never living this down.”

“Nope,” you tease, stepping back toward the door. “But it was cute.”

Leah nearly dies on the spot.

Beth, Katie, and Caitlin are losing their minds in the background, but Leah doesn’t care. Because you just called her cute.

As you push open the door, you glance back at her one last time. “Talk soon, Leah.”

And with that, you’re gone, leaving Leah standing there, heart pounding, phone clutched in her hand like it’s the most valuable thing she owns.

Katie claps her on the back. “Well, that was painful to watch.”

Beth smirks. “But adorable.”

Caitlin sips her coffee. “She totally likes you.”

Leah barely hears them. She’s too busy staring at your name in her contacts, already smiling like an idiot.

Hours later, you find yourself back at your parents’ house. The warmth of home surrounds you—the comforting hum of the kettle boiling, the faint scent of whatever your mum is preparing for dinner, and the familiar laughter of Ellie as she plays with her granddad.

Ellie, of course, doesn’t want to leave just yet.

“Can I stay a little longer, Mum?” she asks, her big, hopeful eyes looking up at you. “Granddad said he might take me to the park!”

You glance toward your dad, who grins and nods. “I did promise, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, ruffling Ellie’s hair. “Alright, but don’t keep him running around too much.”

“No promises!” Ellie grins before grabbing her granddad’s hand and dragging him toward the door. “Come on, Granddad!”

Your mum shakes her head fondly, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “That child has too much energy.”

“I wonder where she gets it from,” you tease, but your mum just waves you off.

You step forward. “I can help with dinner if you want?”

Your mum scoffs, gently pushing you toward the living room. “Absolutely not. You had a break today—enjoy it.”

You sigh but smile nonetheless. “Alright, alright.”

With that, you make your way to the couch, sinking into the cushions with a satisfied exhale. It’s nice to just… sit for a moment.

Then, your phone buzzes.

You glance down at it, unlocking the screen, and your lips twitch at the name that appears.

Leah Williamson.

There’s something about the way the text is structured—the slightly uneven spacing, the hesitation in her words—that tells you one thing immediately: she’s nervous.

Leah: Hey… um, so I know I was kinda awkward earlier. Like, really awkward. But I swear I’m usually a lot cooler than that. Okay, maybe not ‘cool,’ but, like… not a complete mess. I just—ugh. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is… hi? How’s your evening?

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh. You can see her overthinking, can imagine her running a hand through her hair while sending this.

Smiling to yourself, you type out a reply.

You: Hi, Leah :) My evening’s been good. Back at my parents’ house. My daughter wanted to stay with them a little longer. Also… you were cute earlier, if that helps your ‘not a complete mess’ argument.

The response is immediate.

Leah: Oh my God, you’re actually trying to kill me.

You grin, feeling an unexpected warmth spread in your chest.

This was going to be fun.

Leah stares at her phone, rereading your last message for what has to be the fifth time.

Cute. You called her cute.

She exhales sharply, running a hand down her face before gripping her phone tighter. Get it together, Williamson.

The first few texts were rough. She was fully prepared for Beth, Katie, or Caitlin to somehow get a hold of her phone and roast her for them later. But now? Now, she’s finally found a rhythm.

Still flustered as hell, still nervous, but at least she’s stopped typing and deleting every message five times before sending it.

Leah: You can’t just say stuff like that. It’s dangerous.

You: Dangerous?

Leah: Yes. Extremely. I could’ve dropped my phone. Or walked into a wall. Life-threatening, really.

She barely has a second to breathe before you respond.

You: Maybe I should warn you next time then? “Hey Leah, I’m about to say something that’ll make you spiral. Brace yourself.”

Leah groans, flopping back onto her bed. She’s grinning like an idiot, and she knows it.

Leah: Yes, please. That would be helpful. I have a fragile heart.

You: I feel like that’s a lie. You don’t seem fragile at all.

Leah huffs out a quiet laugh. If only you knew.

Leah: You might be surprised.

She hesitates for a second before adding:

Leah: I’m glad you texted me back, though.

Her heart beats a little faster as she waits for your reply.

You: Of course I did. I was hoping you’d text me first.

Leah swears her brain short-circuits.

She doesn’t hesitate this time.

Leah: Yeah?

You: Yeah :)

She exhales, running a hand through her hair, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

Maybe this wasn’t so terrifying after all.

You’ve been texting Leah for almost an hour now, and honestly? You’re having way too much fun. You never imagined a simple conversation could make you smile like this, but here you are, grinning at your phone like a teenager with a crush.

It’s easy to forget the world around you when the text bubble from Leah pops up with each new message, each one a bit bolder than the last. The earlier awkwardness is fading—Leah’s still a little nervous, but her messages are smoother now, more confident.

But before you can respond, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching from the front door, followed by Ellie’s excited voice.

“We’re back, Mum!”

You glance up, blinking a little as you pull yourself back from the text conversation.

Ellie runs into the living room, her cheeks flushed from the cool air and the excitement of the park. Your dad follows, grinning and shaking his head at her.

“Had a good time?” you ask, watching as Ellie practically bounces on her toes.

“The best! Granddad showed me how to climb the big tree!” Ellie exclaims, her face beaming.

You smile and ruffle her hair. “That sounds fun. Now, how about we get dinner started?”

Ellie groans dramatically, though it’s clear she’s still got energy to burn. “Do I have to? I want to go out again.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Dinner first. Then we’ll talk about anything else.”

Your dad chuckles, heading into the kitchen to help your mum. The house feels like it’s settling back into its rhythm, and you can’t help but feel content.

But then, you glance at your phone again. Leah’s name still lights up the screen, and the conversation has slowed to a lull, almost like she’s waiting for you to say something.

With a sigh, you tap out a message, knowing you should wrap it up.

You: I have to go now, Leah. Dinner’s on the table and I’m needed. But I’ll talk to you soon, okay?

A few seconds pass, and you can practically hear Leah’s internal panic.

Leah: Yeah, of course. Enjoy dinner with your family. And, uh… we’ll talk soon, yeah?

You can’t help but smile.

You: Definitely. Take care, Leah.

Leah: You too. Talk soon.

You put your phone down, a small sigh escaping you as you settle back into the present moment. It’s strange how something so simple—just texting someone—could make you feel this way. But you already know one thing for sure: this won’t be the last time you hear from Leah. And you’re definitely looking forward to what comes next.

Leah stares at her phone, her heart still racing slightly. She can’t help but giggle to herself, her fingers hovering over the screen as she rereads your last message for the third time.

Talk soon.

The simple phrase should be innocent enough, but coming from you… it feels like a promise. She’s not sure why, but there’s something about the way you text her that makes everything feel like it matters a little more than it probably should.

She leans back against her pillows, a soft smile still plastered on her face, completely oblivious to the teasing going on in the background.

“I swear, you’re like a giddy schoolgirl,” Beth says, watching her from across the room with a raised eyebrow.

Leah rolls her eyes, but the smile doesn’t fade. “I’m not. I’m just—” She stammers, trying to form an excuse, but there’s no way around it. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am.”

Katie grins. “I knew it. You’ve totally got a crush on her, don’t you?”

Leah feels the warmth in her cheeks as she presses her phone against her face, hiding the full extent of her embarrassment. “It’s not like that,” she mutters, though even she knows it’s a total lie.

But then she thinks back to your texts, the way you’d signed off with that little “talk soon,” and her heart flutters all over again. She lets out a soft sigh, giggling to herself.

Maybe she was a little giddy.

“Alright, alright,” Beth teases. “We get it. You’re smitten.”

Leah gives them both a pointed glare, but it’s half-hearted. She can’t help it. They’re right.

“I don’t even care,” Leah says, still smiling. “I like her. Is that such a crime?”

Katie shakes her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Nope. Not a crime at all.”

Leah can’t wipe the grin off her face as she types another message to you, letting her nerves settle. She’s still a little unsure of where this might go, but for the first time in a long time, she’s excited about the possibilities.

Leah: Talk soon, yeah? And just so you know… you’ve definitely got me smiling.

As she hits send, she can’t help but giggle again, imagining what your response might be. For once, she’s not afraid of the unknown. Instead, she’s looking forward to it.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, you find yourself in the car, driving Ellie to school. Her excitement from the park yesterday still hasn’t worn off, and she chatters away in the passenger seat, recounting every detail of her adventure with her granddad.

“Granddad said we could go next week, too!” Ellie says with a grin, glancing at you.

You chuckle. “Sounds like a good plan. Just don’t climb too many trees, okay? I don’t want to be picking you up from the nurse’s office again.”

Ellie rolls her eyes but laughs, knowing full well that’s not a likely scenario.

Once you drop Ellie off at the school gate, you wave her off and watch as she runs to meet her friends. As she disappears inside, you take a moment to breathe. The school has exams today, which means you have the day off from work—something you haven’t had in a while.

You lean back in the car, considering your options for the day. A part of you wonders if you should just enjoy the quiet, catch up on some errands, maybe even grab a coffee or read a book. But then, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

You pull it out and unlock the screen, instantly seeing the message you received from Leah last night. Talk soon, yeah? And just so you know… you’ve definitely got me smiling.

You smile at the memory of the conversation.

Without much hesitation, you open the messaging app and start typing, wondering if Leah might be free for a bit of company today.

You: Hey, Leah. I’ve got the day off—are you free, or are you training?

You wait for a few seconds, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. You’re not sure what you’re expecting—maybe she’s busy, maybe she’ll be all tied up with team obligations. But when the little three dots appear and then her message comes through, you feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

Leah: I’m actually free! No training today. Got a couple of hours before I have to meet up with the team later.

You pause for a second, the words feeling lighter than they did yesterday, as if there’s less uncertainty now.

You: Nice. Want to grab a coffee or something?

It doesn’t take long before Leah replies.

Leah: Yes! I know a place we can go. I’ll send you the address in a sec. Can’t wait to see you again.

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. It’s subtle, but you can tell there’s a shift, a little more ease in her words now.

You: Looking forward to it.

You quickly put your phone down, starting the car and making your way to the café Leah suggested. The thought of spending time with her—after everything, after the teasing, the conversations—is something you find yourself looking forward to more than you realized.

You arrive at the café Leah suggested, a cozy spot tucked away in a quieter part of town. As you step inside, your eyes scan the room until they land on her—Leah, sitting at a small table by the window. She’s already a little red in the face, her posture a mix of confidence and a touch of uncertainty. As soon as she sees you, her face lights up, and she stands up quickly, almost knocking over her coffee in the process.

“Hey!” she greets, her voice a little higher than usual, but her smile is warm. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you reply with a grin, walking over to her table.

She pulls out the chair for you, and you sit down, feeling an odd combination of nervousness and excitement. There’s something about being with Leah in person that makes the butterflies in your stomach take flight. The small talk you had yesterday feels like a world away.

“So, you like this place?” Leah asks, trying to keep things light but you can tell she’s still a little on edge.

You nod, glancing around at the cozy atmosphere. “Yeah, it’s cute. I’ve passed it a few times, but never had the chance to stop in.”

“Good choice then,” Leah says, her fingers tapping nervously on her coffee cup. “I… uh… ordered for you already. Hope you don’t mind. I guessed cappuccino, but I could’ve gotten it wrong.”

You smile. “No, you guessed right. I’m a fan of cappuccinos.”

Leah visibly relaxes, the tension easing from her shoulders. She takes a deep breath and glances at you, still shy but with more confidence than before.

“So, tell me about Ellie,” Leah says, her voice soft. “She must be… well, she must be everything to you.”

You smile fondly, thinking of Ellie. “Yeah, she is. She’s smart, sassy, and always keeping me on my toes. She’s my little partner in crime.”

Leah’s smile is sincere. “I can tell you’re close. It’s nice, having that kind of bond.”

You nod. “Family’s everything, you know? It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”

Leah looks down at her coffee, as if pondering something. “I can understand that. My family… well, we’re kind of scattered. My dad and I haven’t been close in years. I guess you could say I’m not the best at family stuff.” (I know Leah is very close with her family just pretend for this okay, thanks.)

You tilt your head, curious. “Do you want to talk about it? If you’re comfortable, of course.”

Leah hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head lightly. “Maybe not yet. It’s just… complicated, I guess.”

You nod, understanding. “I get that. Family can be messy sometimes.”

There’s a pause, a soft silence between you as you both sip your coffee. But then, Leah seems to gather her thoughts, her eyes meeting yours with a playful glint.

“So,” she begins, shifting in her seat, “if you don’t mind me asking… are you seeing anyone right now?”

The question catches you off guard for a moment. It’s casual enough, but there’s a hint of curiosity in Leah’s voice. You take a moment before answering, trying to gauge the vibe between you.

“No,” you answer with a smile. “I’m not seeing anyone. It’s been a while, actually. And I’ve been focused on Ellie more than anything.”

Leah’s eyes brighten a little, but she quickly hides her reaction behind a sip of her coffee. “Same here,” she admits, her tone a little more guarded. “I mean, I’ve been focused on football and… well, you know, the team. But I guess, it’s… it’s hard sometimes. Being single, I mean.”

You raise an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Really? I would’ve thought someone like you wouldn’t have a hard time with that.”

Leah chuckles, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You’d think, right? But it’s not always as easy as it looks.”

There’s an awkward pause, but this time it feels less tense. Instead, it’s more like you’re both getting to know each other in a way that feels… real.

Leah shifts again, leaning forward just a little. “So… if you don’t mind me asking, do you think I’m… I don’t know, someone you’d want to see again? Not that I’m trying to put any pressure on you or anything, just… curious.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of her vulnerability. “I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing you again, Leah.”

Her eyes widen slightly, as if she wasn’t expecting you to say that. Then, she laughs, a bit of nervous energy spilling out. “Good. Because, um, I think I’d like that too.”

You both sit there for a moment, letting the quiet settle between you. Leah seems more comfortable now, more herself. And for the first time, you realize that this might not just be a casual coffee between two people who bumped into each other. It feels like the beginning of something… something you both are unsure about, but excited to explore.

As the conversation slows, Leah seems to hesitate for a moment, like she’s considering something. Then, with a soft exhale, she looks at you with a hint of a playful smile.

“So… I was thinking,” she starts, her voice a little more tentative than before. “If you’re up for it, we could go back to mine and watch a movie. I mean, if you don’t have anything else planned?”

You smile, intrigued by the idea. “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

Leah’s face lights up, and she gestures toward the door, clearly relieved. “Great! It’s not much, but it’s home.”

The two of you step outside, and after a short drive, you find yourselves at Leah’s house. It’s quieter here, tucked away in a suburban neighborhood that feels worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Leah unlocks the door, and you follow her inside, your eyes scanning the cozy living room. The faint scent of coffee and something sweet fills the air.

She tosses her keys onto the side table and looks over at you. “Make yourself comfortable,” she says, pointing to the couch. “I’ll grab some snacks.”

You sit down, the soft cushions sinking under you as you take in the space. It’s simple, but warm. Homey, in a way. You pull your legs up on the couch, settling into the corner.

Leah returns with a bowl of popcorn, a couple of drinks, and a small grin on her face. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I grabbed a little bit of everything.”

You smile as she hands you a drink. “Thanks. This is perfect.”

Leah starts the movie, something lighthearted and funny, the kind of film that makes you laugh without needing to think too much. For a while, you’re both just immersed in the movie, the sound of laughter filling the space. But as the film progresses, you feel a subtle shift in the air between you two.

You shift slightly on the couch, unconsciously leaning toward Leah. Without realizing it, you end up curling up a little closer to her, your head resting lightly on her shoulder. You can feel the warmth radiating from her body, her presence somehow grounding and comforting. It feels natural—nothing too forward, just two people getting lost in the moment.

Leah freezes for a split second, then lets out a soft breath. You don’t notice at first, too wrapped up in the movie and the closeness, but then you feel her tense up. You glance up at her, only to find her staring ahead at the screen, but her cheeks are flushed, and her grip on the popcorn bowl has loosened just a little.

You smile to yourself, unaware of how much of an effect you’re having on her. The weight of your head resting against her shoulder seems to be making her a mess—her breathing slightly heavier, her hand shaking as it hovers near the popcorn. She’s trying to focus on the movie, but it’s clear she’s struggling to keep herself together.

You let out a small sigh of contentment, still feeling relaxed and at ease in her presence. But Leah, on the other hand, seems to be quietly losing her composure. Her heart races under the calm exterior she’s desperately trying to maintain.

At one point, she pauses the movie, the silence between you two becoming more palpable.

“Are you… okay?” you ask softly, not fully aware of what you might have done to make her so flustered.

Leah lets out a shaky laugh, her voice lower than usual. “Yeah. Just… didn’t expect you to cuddle in like that.”

You blink, surprised by her reaction. “Oh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I—”

“No!” Leah quickly interrupts, her hands raised in reassurance. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest at her honesty. “I’m just… relaxing,” you say, trying to brush it off casually.

But Leah is anything but relaxed. She glances down at you, her eyes soft but filled with something more intense now. She swallows hard, as if trying to calm her racing thoughts.

“Well,” she says slowly, almost like she’s testing the waters, “just so you know… if you keep doing that… you might just make me completely lose it.”

You raise an eyebrow at her words, still blissfully unaware of how deeply you’ve affected her. But the playful glint in her eyes makes your heart skip a beat. You never expected to have this kind of effect on her, but here you are—both of you caught in a moment that neither of you seem ready to pull away from.

You don’t move away, instead, just relaxing deeper into her side, the movie playing on in the background, but the space between you both has shifted. It’s no longer just a casual hangout. It’s something else.

The movie ends, and the credits start to roll, but the atmosphere between us feels like it’s suspended in time. My heart is racing, but I’m trying to keep it together. The moment you cuddled up to me on the couch, I knew I was in trouble. Every inch of my body is on fire, my mind clouded with thoughts of you—of how close you are, how effortlessly comfortable you make me feel, even when I’m a complete mess inside.

I glance at the clock, and my heart sinks a little. It’s almost time to pick up Ellie.

You stretch out slightly, moving away from me just a little as you let out a soft sigh. “I should probably go,” you say, your voice calm, but I can hear the hint of reluctance in it, too.

I nod, trying to ignore the fact that the thought of you leaving is… well, it makes my chest tighten. “Yeah, I guess it’s getting late.”

We both stand up, and I walk you to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. The closer we get to the door, the more aware I am of how close we are, of how my heart won’t stop pounding in my chest. I can feel the heat radiating from you, and it makes my mind spin.

I reach for the door handle, but when I look over at you, it’s like the world slows down. You’re standing there, looking at me, but there’s something different in your eyes—a softness, a warmth. And I feel it. The pull. The connection.

We’re standing so close now, and I can’t help but notice the way your breath catches just slightly, your chest rising and falling with each breath, just like mine. The tension is thick in the air, and I can feel it in every inch of my body. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t stop myself from feeling drawn to you.

I bite my lip nervously, my eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, trying to figure out if I’m reading this right. “So…” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, “What do you want to do now?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, there’s a moment of silence, where everything else fades away. Then, before I can even process it, you step closer, your eyes locked on mine.

And just like that, you lean in.

Your lips press softly against mine, the kiss gentle at first, as if testing the waters. But then, it deepens, just a little, and I feel the spark. I’m frozen for a split second, completely caught off guard by how natural it feels, how perfectly your lips fit against mine.

It’s a long kiss, one that feels like it’s suspended in time, each second stretching on, lingering in a way that makes my heart race even faster. I can feel the warmth of your body, the slight pressure of your hands, your scent filling my senses, and suddenly nothing else matters.

When we finally pull away, we both stand there, breathless. My pulse is pounding, my chest heaving. For a second, I’m too stunned to speak, too caught up in what just happened. The kiss wasn’t just a fleeting thing—it was something real, something more than either of us had expected.

You smile softly at me, and I can’t help but smile back, feeling the same warmth that’s been radiating between us all afternoon.

“Wow,” I whisper, my voice still a little shaky. “That… that was…” I trail off, still a little stunned by what just happened.

You grin, your eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something else—something I can’t quite place. “Yeah. I guess I wanted to do that for a while.”

I chuckle softly, still not fully processing everything. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

As I watch you turn to leave, I can’t help but feel a sense of longing. Something’s shifted between us, and I don’t know where this is going, but for the first time in a while, I don’t feel scared about it.

I stand in the doorway, watching you go, my heart still racing in my chest. What just happened felt like the beginning of something, and I can’t wait to see where it leads.

After training, your phone buzzes with a message from Leah. Her text is simple yet carries a weight of unspoken words:

“Hey, would love to spend more time with you today. Are you free?”

A smile tugs at your lips as you read her message. The connection between you two has been undeniable, and the thought of spending more time together fills you with warmth.

You quickly type a response:

“I’d love that. Let me check with my parents to see if they can look after Ellie.”

You call your parents, explaining the situation. They agree to take care of Ellie for the day, though you sense a hint of curiosity in their voices. They don’t press further, but you can tell they’re a bit suspicious.

With everything set, you head over to Leah’s house. As you arrive, she greets you with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

Inside, you both settle into the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee and something sweet in the air. The conversation flows easily, laughter and shared stories filling the space between you.

After a few minutes, Leah’s demeanor shifts. She becomes a bit more reserved, her eyes occasionally meeting yours before quickly looking away. You notice her hands fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve, a subtle sign of her nervousness.

Sensing her hesitation, you decide to bridge the gap. You gently reach out, placing your hand over hers. Her breath catches, and she looks up at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance.

With a soft smile, you lean in, closing the distance between you. Leah’s eyes flutter closed as your lips meet in a gentle kiss. The world seems to pause around you, the only sound being the soft rhythm of your breathing.

As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of emotion, a connection that feels both new and familiar. Leah’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your arms wrapping around her.

The kiss is tender yet filled with unspoken promises, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you’re beginning to explore together. When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, a shared smile playing on your lips.

Leah rests her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” she admits, her cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

You chuckle softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Me too,” you reply, your heart swelling with affection.

As you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. The future feels uncertain, but with Leah by your side, you’re ready to face whatever comes next.

It’s been a few weeks since that first kiss, and every moment with you feels like a dream I never want to wake up from. Our time together has been filled with laughter, shared stories, and a connection that feels deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced. But there’s something I’ve been holding back, something I can’t keep to myself any longer.

We’re sitting on the couch in my living room, a movie playing softly in the background, though neither of us is paying much attention. Your head rests on my shoulder, and I can feel the steady rhythm of your breathing. I gently brush a strand of hair from your face, my fingers lingering on your skin.

“Hey,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

You look up at me, your eyes warm and inviting. “Yeah?”

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. “I… I’ve been thinking about us. About how much you mean to me. And I don’t want to keep pretending that I’m not completely in love with you.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and I can see the surprise and joy in them. You sit up, turning to face me fully. “Leah…”

I reach for your hand, holding it gently in mine. “I know we’ve been taking things slow, and I don’t want to rush anything. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is… will you be my girlfriend?”

A smile spreads across your face, and your eyes sparkle with happiness. “Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “Yes, I will.”

I pull you into a tight embrace, my heart swelling with happiness. “I promise I’ll make you the happiest person alive,” I whisper.

You pull back slightly, looking into my eyes. “You already do,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity.

We share a tender kiss, sealing the promise of our future together.

[likea-silhouette]

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

rating: mature

word count: 2.8k

summary: Harry was once the boy you loved and wanted to spend your life with. The funny thing is that addiction is something that is never predicted. What happens when you run into your ex-boyfriend years after your breakup that was due to his vices?

*based on the song Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod*

tagged: @imaginexxharry Read Part One | Read Part Three

The moment you step inside you feel a warmth and familiarity, almost making you completely forget about Harry and the uneasiness you had felt just moments ago.

This home. You’d spent so many wonderful days and nights within its confines. Whether watching movies and trashy TV shows with Nadia or playing board games that you only half understood, nevertheless still enjoyed. It felt like another home to you. “There you are!”, Nadia squealed above the music that wasn’t too low or high in volume, but just right. Immediately, a smile overtook your lips as you outstretched your hands to envelope your best friend in a warm embrace.

“God, am I glad you’re here”, Nadia said as she lifted her drink to her lips.

“Why? What’s wrong?” You looked at her quizzically as you tried to convince yourself it had nothing to do with your ex-boyfriend. Not everything revolved around him, yet, at this very moment, your mind was so preoccupied with him and only him that it was hard not to associate Harry with every subject that came to mind.

Nadia moved next to you and rested her elbow on top of your shoulder as her knuckles held her chin up.

“I swear I only know like three people here. I’ve just been walking around aimlessly trying to find a buddy to gossip with.”

You chuckled lightly as relief swept over you. “Well, I’m here now so consider yourself buddied up.”

Nadia smiled and rolled her eyes playfully in relief, “Thank-fucking-god.”

Eventually, the both of you wandered over to the kitchen where various alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages were being created by a hired bartender.

“Wow, you really splurged on this.”

Nadia’s lips curled into a smile as she shrugged, “Only the best for my guy.”

Once a gin and tonic was comfortably situated in your and your friend's hand, the both of you maneuvered through the decent volume of friends and family that had arrived in the time it took for you to browse and pick out a cocktail. Thankfully, refuge in the living room was close as you and Nadia took a seat on a sectional sofa that was free for the taking.

The conversation naturally flowed between the both of you as you caught up on new developments in the other's life that had occurred since you last saw each other a week or so ago.

Suddenly, mid-sentence, Nadia’s eyes widened as a smile spread across her face. This wasn’t any ordinary smile - it held something behind it, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Cautiously, you turned around to look in the direction Nadia’s eyes were focused on. You breathed a sigh of relief as you saw the familiar face of her husband, instead of the face of the phantom you had once loved.

You were safe. It wasn’t him. “Babe!”, Nadia called out, but with the larger volume of people chattering, combined with the music, her call went unnoticed.

Nadia stood from the sofa with both hands cupped over her mouth as she attempted once again to gain his attention with a shout of his name.

This time it did the trick.

Abruptly, Her husband turned around as his wide eyes searched the crowd. Once he caught sight of his wife, he instantly softened with a small grin on his mouth.

You watched as both he and Nadia exchanged glances of puppy love that were still present even after several years of being romantically intertwined. This very admiration had you mesmerized - maybe a little too mesmerized in fact.

The depth of enchantment that you felt from their love kept you easily distracted, so much so that you hadn’t noticed him initially until his eyes were melting craters in your face that were impossible to not feel the burn of.

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze and his met for the first time in so, so long.

His eyes felt both foreign and familiar all at the same time.

Unbeknownst to you, Nadia stood by your side with a grin as she watched from the corner of her eye as your mind pieced together the reality of what was happening whether you wanted it to or not. Honestly, you weren’t sure what you wanted.

Your mouth fell agape and eyes blinked rapidly, testing to see if this was your imagination playing tricks on you or if the man who once held your affection was actually walking towards you in tow of Nadia’s husband. Of course, It was the latter.

“There’s the birthday boy!”, Nadia beamed as she placed her hands on either side of her husband's face.

“You saw me like an hour ago baby.” You would’ve cooed and awed at the couple were it not for the distraction that was now standing directly in front of you with eyes that shamelessly remained in a trance that was solely for you.

Nadia and her husband both shared a mischievous smirk as they reveled in their front-row seats to your and Harry’s reunion. Not that you even thought about tearing your eyes away from Harry to take note of the not so subtle expression the couple were sharing.

“Hey! I’m so glad you could come.” Nadia’s husband greeted as he wrapped you up in a warm hug. Thankfully, this brought you out of the staring contest that Harry had trapped you in.

With closed eyes, you put on a best-effort smile as you returned his friendly gesture.

“Of course! Happy birthday.” You hoped the joy in your voice didn’t sound too forced.

“Oh, and this is for you,” you dragged your last word slightly as you outstretched the envelope in your hand in his direction.

Harry’s eyes followed your arm which was filled with new tattoos he wasn’t familiar with. He wondered what else had changed with you. Were you in a relationship? Did you have some fancy job with an even fancier apartment? Were you happy?

Were you happier without him?

“You know you never have to get me anything”, Nadia's husband spoke, breaking Harry from his thoughts that wondered if there was still a resemblance of the lover he never forgot.

Harry watched as you shrugged and said, “I know,” with a slight smile. This made him feel butterflies flapping in his stomach.

Nadia’s husband said his thanks with a final side hug and Harry found himself continuing to stare at you in your most sincerest of form. Celebrating with friends and exchanging gifts; something so deeply simple, yet watching you being wholly yourself had Harry’s heart beating so fast, he swore one would’ve seen it through his shirt.

“You always did love giving gifts.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at Harry after he spoke. Only then did he realize he said those words out loud instead of in the deepest parts of his inner narration.

Your eyebrows raised and your mouth slightly fell open as you took in the absolute music to your ears that was his accent and tone - it felt like pressing play on your favorite song for the second time in a row. You wanted more and more and more and couldn’t see yourself tiring of it for quite some time. The temptation to close your eyes and sway your body in complete contentment as you replayed the way his voice sounded crossed your mind. God damn it, you missed him.

Meanwhile, Harry’s eyes desperately searched his surroundings. He had to find an excuse to either leave this reunion of sorts or change the subject entirely.

Thankfully, his eyes caught sight of the empty glass in his hand.

“I’m uh-”, his hand slightly raised his glass in the air, “-going to get some more to drink.” “Help yourself, Harry. The non-alcoholic drinks should all be in the fridge in the kitchen.”

Harry nodded with avoidant eyes and turned his back to the group with a chest that breathed heavily with each step he took.

You, however, were still dwelling on the drink suggestion Nadia had directed Harry towards. “Does uh-” God, it was embarrassing. Why did you want to even ask? You weren’t supposed to care anymore.

“Never mind,” you said with a soft, yet tensed smile. “I’m a little low on my drink too. I’m going to go catch up with Harry”, Nadia’s husband spoke with his hand lovely running along Nadia’s back.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

You watched as he weaved through the crowd, taking a nearly identical path to the one Harry followed toward the kitchen until he disappeared behind a group of people. Quickly, you and Nadia fall back into casual conversation, avoiding discussing the ever-present elephant in the room. You’d be lying if you said you could focus on a single conversation topic that carried on between the both of you. Your body was still very much here, but your head was deeply submerged underneath the thickest of clouds. Eventually, a party guest, that you weren’t too familiar with besides remembering their face from Nadia’s wedding and past gatherings, joined in on your and Nadia’s conversation circle. You felt a swell of relief at the fact that you wouldn’t need to maintain subpar attention on the topic being discussed. Now, you were free to get lost in your thoughts and allow Nadia and the party guest to take the lead on the discussion. Your lips met the cold of your glass as you guzzled down the remainder of your cocktail.

Thank god - an excuse to get some fresh air.

“I’m going to grab another drink and get some fresh air. It's so nice to see you again!” You cheerfully waved to Nadia and the other guests, who gave you waves and friendly smiles in return. The moment your back was to the pair, the fake smile etched onto your lips slid off of your face as your mouth pursed and a light puff of air released from your cheeks.

The walk from the bar to the outside was a paranoid one. Every unknown noise had you gazing in its direction of origin as you searched for his familiar brunette hair and green eyes behind every crevice and corner.

Thankfully, the outside proved to be a serene place. It smelled of wood smoked to ash and shimmered from the large string lights cascading across the entire backyard. The sun was nearly half set, making the sky a dark purple that perfectly paired with the easy music playing from the speakers in the outdoor space. As your eyes took in your surroundings, you caught sight of where the smell of burnt wood was coming from. Immediately, your feet carried you to the circle-shaped fire pit that was tucked in a back corner and all by its lonesome.

The warmth of a flame blanketed your body as you sat in one of the chairs strategically placed around the burning orange hue.

Once comfortably snug, you allowed yourself another deep, deep breath. This time with eyes fully closed you reveled in the peace and stillness that only the nighttime could bring.

However, your peace was short-lived as the sound of glass breaking caused your eyes to shoot open and everyone to quiet their conversations.

Quickly, your eyes searched for the source until you fell upon an image that felt eerily familiar.

A couple - a man who was inebriated times ten and a woman desperately trying to calm the man’s erratic movements and loud tone of voice. He held a once full glass, yet now was sloshed with clear liquid on himself and the ground.

The distress on the woman's face was evident as she tried to calm the man by soothingly rubbing his upper bicep and, I’m assuming, whispering words that were at the age level of how one would talk to a toddler who was throwing a tantrum.

I knew that routine all too well. The sound of the glass breaking was still ringing in your ears like a sharp knife clawing into a chalkboard, until, in the blink of an eye, you found yourself back in time. The bar was lit by only a few warm lightbulbs. The Saturday night bar crowd was in full swing as you found yourself nearly shoulder to shoulder with anyone you came across. However, Harry’s voice booming over the noise level of every other bar attendee had you briskly walking away from the bar and over to your boyfriend - well, boyfriend at the time. “What the fuck is going on?” You yelled over the music as Harry poked his finger into the chest of a man you’d never seen before. “Babe who is this? What are you doing?” Harry’s larger-than-normal pupils looked at you. You swore you could’ve seen steam coming out from the top of his head by how red his cheeks were and the flare of his nostrils. “This guy was checking you out!” he half slurred, half yelled. Your eyes moved to the guy who looked scared shitless with both of his hands pressing in front of his chest. “I swear man, I wasn’t looking at her. Swear to god” “Fuckin’ liar!”, Harry spat at the guy. “Harry who gives a fuck. The guy said he wasn’t looking,” I tried desperately to pull him by his bicep in the direction opposite of the innocent man. “I give a fuck! He was looking at you like he wanted to fuck you right in this bar for Christ sake”

“Nah man, I haven’t even seen her bef-” “If you were smart you’d shut the hell up before I make you.”

You gasped at Harry’s harsh words that were hard to hear, both due to the volume of the music, the chattering of conversation, and the amount of vodka he’d had in the last hour that made his lips move too fast for his words to get out cleanly.

“Babe please,” I whined desperately, using all of your strength to pull Harry by the arm again. However, it was no use. Harry slipped out of your grip with his glass shattering to the ground as it slipped out of his hands. You watched in horror as Harry suddenly got much closer to the man, their faces a foot or so apart, as his shoulders stood up straight in a much more defensive manner. What had started as a night of fun and drunkenness, quickly turned into Harry once again taking it too far - both with his alcohol consumption and his anger, though the two almost always went hand in hand. Tears started prickling out of your eyes as you watched Harry bump his chest against the other guy who was now squaring up to Harry and making himself look just as intimidating. He promised. He promised this would never happen again and yet it’s happened so many fucking times -more than you can even count.

Not even a brisk escape from the scene Harry had created at the bar and a cigarette between your lips could ease the pain. With your head resting against the outside brick wall of the bar, you felt your tears gently and freely roll down your cheeks as you puffed smoke from between your teeth.

That night, you remember asking yourself if you could do this forever. If you always had to be the one to pick up the pieces that Harry tore up in a drunken haze. If you always had to be the one who was strong even when you felt like the thinnest, soggiest, piece of paper that was left to disintegrate in the rain all by your lonesome.

You weren’t sure how long you’d fallen back into this memory that clearly stuck to your brain for a reason. However, you knew what brought you out of it and back to reality. His laugh was infectious and uniquely deep and hearty. There always was a slight rasp to it as well. You remembered it so damn well. Except this time, it wasn’t just a memory. It was very deeply real and current. Instinctually, your eyes searched for him in the backyard until his tall frame came into your view. Harry was standing in a group of people with that warm and amused grin on his face that always looked so good on him. You were only allowed a moment to admire his candid expression until his eyes met yours - as if you were magnetized to one another. Harry’s tongue peeked out of his mouth to briefly run along his bottom lip as his eyes focused back on the group. He spoke some words you couldn’t make out before extending his hand in a polite manner to each of the people surrounding him in the circle - as if he were excusing himself.

Then, with his left hand in his pocket, and his eyes looking directly at you, he began walking in your direction.

To be continued.

[enwoso]

Would you do a follow up to 'Pretty Chains' where Leah gets Tiny a Hamster and Less freaks 😂

you better be joking | alessia russo x child!reader

hey guys! long time no see ay? but this will probably be my last normal fic of the year as i have next the twelve days of christmas uploads coming. there may be a few before the new year but if not i’ll see yous all in the new year!

i’ll be here and there over the next few weeks, dw i’m not disappearing and if you ever wanna drop something in my inbox feel free, whether that’s a question about a fic, series or character.

but if not i’ll see you on the other side🙃

grumpy masterlist

“le?” you paused looking up to the blonde as leah walked you around the arsenal complex hoping to keep you occupied for the half an hour while your mummy was in a meeting. leah hummed as you held her hand.

“when am i getting my hamster, the one you promise me” you asked so casually. it having been playing on your mind ever since your first match.

your football had actually progressed too as you had actually started playing your games and alessia and some of the girls had shown up in their numbers — as always — but they were yet to break the spell where you’d spend the entire warm up picking at the ground and making daisy chain.

but with each one you gave your mummy, she kept the daisy chains in her long black puffer coat pocket — well until they died.

it had been a week and half since you had been promised your hamster — much to alessia being non the wiser of the promise actually being made come true.

a small cough came from leah as she was slightly caught off guard as the topic was slightly different from the previous conversation you’d just been having with the blonde about your new favourite colour — of the week.

“oh-“ leah hummed, “i- i have been trying to get you one. i promise!” leah rambled out as she opened a door to the canteen for you.

“okay, just i have my named picked out already and i’ve already started making him his own little arsenal corner in my room!” you said so proudly as leah internally awed, it being such a you thing to have done.

“well i’ll get searching then! but as for right now should we go and get lunch before katie steals all your favourite crisps again” leah smiled as she swung your arms hoping to change the topic and hopefully you would forget about the hamster as you began to pick the pace up a little bit, not wanting katie to steal your favourite crisps from the canteen.

much to leah’s dismay, you didn’t forget about the hamster. quite tho opposite actually as for the last three days every time you saw the english captain all you spoke about was your hamster which you didn’t have, yet.

so which is how leah found herself sneaking a hamster into her girlfriend’s house hiding it under a blanket as she brought other bags in to hide the rest of the things she had been convinced to buy in the pet store.

this hamster was going to live like royalty.

so while alessia was on a call downstairs, leah had strategically gotten the hamster up the stairs with a little help from you as you’d been too busy watching the tv but you noticed leah sneaking around up and down the stairs.

“what under there?” you asked as you peered around the doorframe pointing at leah who was carrying a large-ish box which was covered by a red blanket as she looked down at you looking like a deer who’d just been caught in the headlights. but she was quickly telling you to shush and to follow her.

so with a small shrug of your shoulders you followed the blonde up the stairs along the landing and into your room where leah placed the box onto your set of drawers.

“take the red thing off-“ leah pointed to the blanket as you cautiously pulled it off a loud gasp coming from you as you a huge smile appearing on your face as you turned back to hug leah, repeating thank you over and over again.

“can we take it out?” you asked looking back at leah as you peered at the crate with the hamster which had grey and white fur. leah nodded as she moved to help you take the little fur ball out of the crate.

“you wanna hold it?” leah asked as you nodded, the two of you sitting down on your floor, leah telling you how to hold it which admittedly was just how the lady in the pet store had instructed leah how to.

small giggles came from you as you could feel its little feet across your hands and legs. you falling in love with the little fur ball it being more than you had dreamed of for the past two weeks.

“is it tickling you?” leah asked as you nodded, a wide smile on leah’s face seeing how happy this small hamster had made you as she started to show you all the accessories she had got the hamster. from hamster balls, tunnel to weird little snacks she had seen for it in the shelve which looked well interesting.

“what you gonna name it then?” leah asked as you looked in awe of the small hamster humming and haring for a few minutes mumbled names to yourself to see which fitted best.

“benny” you smiled as you lifted benny the hamster up, a proud look on your face as leah grinned, “hello benny” she cooed as she stroked his head with her finger.

the two of you sat and watched benny crawl along the floor, small giggled coming from you a his feet tickled your legs. leah almost forgetting the fact that alessia was also in the house and she had no idea about benny well until-

“leah!” alessia called from the bottom of the stairs, hearing her sock covered feet start to climb them. leah scrambling to get to her feet to stop her before she had a chance to explain the hamster.

“yes love” leah smiled as she stood a few metres from the doorway of your room hoping she was blocking the view of you sat with a hamster in a small hamster ball.

“where’s lovie?” alessia asked as she could of swore she could hear the two of them laughing from downstairs, knowing that when the two of you were quiet it meant you were more than likely up to no good.

“oh- i- she’s um, she’s asleep” leah stuttered out as she tried to play it off cool, failing miserably though.

“swear i heard her voice less than five minutes ago?” alessia questioned as leah hummed shaking her head, a confused look starting to faze over alessia’s face.

“no noo- she’s been asleep for at least 15 minutes” leah was dragging her words out something she did when she was lying as she looked down at her watch on her wrist making up a reasonable amount of them for how long you’d been asleep.

“well i’ll just quickly check on her then we can have lunch” alessia smiled sweetly, still slightly wary of leah’s odd behaviour but shrugging it to further back in her mind.

“oo lunch why don’t we go now. i’m pretty hungry, are you?” leah rambled taking a step towards alessia who quirked an eyebrow confused as to why her girlfriend was acting weird. alessia made a move to take a step closer to your room but leah moved in front of her.

alessia tried a few times more but leah kept moving in front of her completely blocking her attempts to try and get into your room.

“leah, move. i would like to see my daughter.” alessia sighed as she was starting to get a little agitated with the small childish antics.

“baby i’ve told you she sound asleep-“

“mummy! look look at benny the hamster!” you giggled as he crawled up your arm, alessia’s jaw dropping as leah blinked wincing slightly as she saw alessia’s initial reaction.

“and where has benny the hamster come from?” alessia asked so sweetly and for a moment leah thought maybe the blonde wasn’t going to do annoyed about the new furry addition to the family.

“leah got me him!” you smiled so innocently as did alessia before sending a glare towards leah and that was when leah realised, alessia wasn’t annoyed — she was furious but of course she wouldn’t show that in front of you. not wanting to dampen your excitement.

“oh lovie he’s lovely, why don’t you put him back in his little crate while we have lunch” alessia cooed so sweetly as she had kneeled down to your height, probably more inspecting the small fur ball in your hands.

“leah. you better be joking me.” alessia said with an angry look on her face once you’d scurried back into your room.

“i love you?” leah winced not really knowing what to do or say that may make the situation the slightest bit better.

“you’ve got five seconds to run, leah cathrine williamson”

[wonryllis]

daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

progress update tag

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog

[withwritersblock]

Feels Like Part 1

~Feels Like by Gracie Abrams~ Author's Note: no Nico yet :) Summary: Katherine shows up on Jack and Luke's doorstep out of no where Warnings: cheating Word count: 2,159 Masterlist

She stood outside of the apartment, a suitcase with only half of her clothes in it. She had tears streaming down her cheeks. She’s probably been crying for twenty-six hours straight. She had nowhere else to go, in the States at least. Reluctantly, she raised her shaky hand up and knocked.

Her days have gotten mixed up after what seemed like days of arguing and countless missed sunsets and sunrises. Her only plan was to hope that her brothers were home. Everything in her life was upside down, she needed some sense of familiarity.

After a few seconds, the door was pulled open to reveal a very sleepy little brother of hers. He was squinted harshly as he shook his head as he stared towards his only sister. A sob left her lips as she looked up towards him. The confusion faded as he stepped aside, letting her inside of the apartment.

The second she stepped foot into the apartment, Luke pushed the door shut and instantly wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed against his chest as he seemed to squeeze her tighter against his chest.

“Who’s at the–Katie?” Jack let out as he jogged towards Luke and Katherine. She slipped away from Luke and instantly was embraced by her other little brother Jack. He held her tightly to his chest. “What’s–going on?” he mouthed towards Luke. He shook his head as he shoved his hand into his hoodie pocket. 

Jack raised his hand up and held it to his ear, “Call Quinn,” he mouthed towards Luke. He nodded as he wandered out of the living room area towards his room. 

She pulled back away from Jack, raising her hands up towards her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called,” she let out another sob. 

He shook his head, pulling her towards him again. He held her against his chest as she wrapped her arms around the center of his back. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mumbled against her hair, “What’s happening?” he asked softly.

She took a shaky breath, “He was cheating on me,” she mumbled against his chest. His body straightened, “Got another girl–” she trailed off as another sob fell from her lips. Jack quite literally let out a gasp as he squeezed her tighter against him.

Katherine and her now ex-boyfriend had been together since they were fifteen. They went to college together at University of Michigan and they moved to North Carolina together. For as long as Jack could remember it was always Katherine and Trent. It was always the both of them; seemingly madly in love.

It never would’ve crossed his mind that Trent would do something like that to her. Jack always suspected that they were going to get married one day and live happily ever after. But now all he wanted to do was kill him. He wanted to kill him for ever hurting his sister.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled as he stroked her hair. “You can stay here as long as you need,” he muttered into her hair. She hummed as she pulled back. Looking into her eyes. “Luke and I can rotate on the couch,” he explained. She shook her head while rolling her eyes playfully.

“I can sleep on the couch, Jacky, I’ll be fine,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse. He began to protest, “Jack, please,” she mumbled. 

He nodded slowly, looking over her features. He glanced down to his watch. “Why don’t you go take a shower? I’m already done with mine, you can use my bathroom.” he offered as he ran his hand along her arm. 

“Yeah, okay,” she mumbled as she brushed her hair away from her cheek. 

“Do you want to go to the game tonight?” Jack asked as he glanced behind him to see Luke still on the phone with Quinn.

“I am not in the mood, Jack,” she shook her head slowly. Jack nodded as he dropped his hand from her arm.

“Okay, Sis, my bathroom s’through there,” he pointed towards the other hallway. She nodded as she took a hold of her suitcase and rolled it behind her. 

Quickly, Jack spun on his heels and darted towards Luke. Jack watched Luke pull the phone from his ear. Jack reached towards it and took a hold of Luke’s phone. He brought it towards his own ear. 

“You’re not going to fucking believe this bullshit,” Jack whispered loudly into the phone. Luke’s eyes widened as he stared towards Jack expectedly. “Trent fucking cheated on her and got this other girl pregnant,” he explained. Luke gasped as he brought his hand up towards his mouth.

“No fucking way dude,” Quinn said on his line of the phone, a scoff leaving his lips. 

“I’m serious,” Jack said while shaking his head, “It’s bad,” he mumbled looking into Luke’s gaze. 

“We can set her up in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Luke offered.

“I already tried that, she just wants to sleep on the couch,” Jack said while shaking his head. “I even said we could take turns but she refused,” Jack mumbled. 

Quinn felt helpless. It was his twin sister and he couldn’t do anything to help her. He was across the country and he couldn’t do a damn thing. “I’ve gotta head to the rink–fuck–I’ll call after the game. Do mom and dad know?” he asked as it sounded like he was out of breath. 

“I don’t know,” Jack said while letting out a deep breath. “We’ll call later,” he said as he hung up the phone. He shoved it into his pocket quickly. Looking down the hall, he was half expecting to see Katherine but she was in the bathroom. “Grab every fucking spare blanket we have and make that pull out couch perfect for her,” he said while pointing towards the couch. 

Luke nodded instantly as he darted towards his room. 

~~~

Her back was pressed against an overwhelming amount of pillows. Her gaze was staring towards her phone, scrolling through TikTok with the Canucks intermission report playing in the background. Her body straightened as she heard the door start to be unlocked. She could hear her youngest brother laugh outside of the door.

Swallowing harshly, she dropped her phone beside her as she saw Jack push open the door. “Hey Katie, you doin’ okay?” Jack asked as he stepped inside of the apartment. She met Jack’s gaze and nodded, taking note of his damp hair. Luke was behind him, staring down at his phone. 

“Oh sick, you have the game on,” Luke mumbled to himself, jogging past Jack and towards the couch. He plopped down onto the pull out couch, pulling one of the three blankets onto his lap. Katherine rolled her eyes playfully while looking down towards Luke laying beside her. 

Teasingly, she tapped her hand against his damp curls. “I’m okay,” she offered towards Jack. He nodded as he walked towards the fridge. “I’ve missed you boys a lot,” she offered. Luke looked up towards her, putting on a tight lip smile.

“We’ve missed you more,” Luke said softly while shutting his eyes, “What’s the score?” He quickly changed the subject towards the TV. 

“3-1, they’re walking circles around the Ducks,” she explained. Jack barked out a laugh as he carried over three plastic water bottles towards the makeshift bed. 

“Course they are,” Jack teased as he flopped down on the other side of her. Carefully he handed her two of the bottles as she handed Luke one of them. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad yet?” Jack pressed while glancing towards the TV.

“Dad called me earlier but I didn’t answer.” she explained while keeping her head low. 

“You have to talk to them eventually,” Luke mumbled. She rolled her eyes as she forced her gaze back towards the TV. The screen was showing Quinn as he was skating around on the ice. A small pout fell to her lips. 

“I don’t want them to worry,” she muttered. 

“We’re worried, Katie,” Jack expressed while leaning his head against his older sister’s shoulder. “You haven’t said more than like a sentence about it,” 

She tilted her head against Jack while her bottom lip began to quiver. “There’s nothing left to say,”

“At least tell Mom and Dad,” Luke expressed while tapping his hand against her shoulder. She took a deep shaky breath while tilting her head from one side to the other. She didn’t say anything while she pushed herself up from the couch, purposely tossing the blanket onto Luke’s lap.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, staring towards her phone screen she still has yet to change. It was an older photo of her and Trent, during one of Quinn’s UMich games. A sigh fell from her lips as she wandered towards Jack’s bedroom that gave her some privacy.

Her eyes began to burn while walking into Jack’s room. Slowly, she searched for her mom’s contact. 

Katherine hated the idea of starting over. She spent her entire life with one person. One plan, his plan, and she was successful. She was making great money and living what she thought was happily. There was nothing worse in her mind than starting over and sleeping on her younger brothers’ couch. 

She brought her phone towards her ear, hearing the loud rings against her ear. Pacing back and forth, it only rang for a few seconds before her mom picked up. “Hey honey, Dad tried to call you earlier,” her mother said quietly. The echo of the TV was in the background, Quinn’s game was definitely playing in the background. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” she muttered, her voice cracking as she spoke. A sniffle fell from her lips. Tilting her head back to try and get the tears to remain in her eyes.

“Are you crying, what’s wrong?” Ellen asked urgently. 

“No,” she muttered while sniffling. She rested her hand onto her hip while she took another deep breath, “Trent cheated on me and we broke up,” she explained. The words felt strange leaving her lips, like it’s not meant to be a sentence. Her mother let out a gasp. She could hear her mother restating the words to her father. 

A tear fell onto her cheek, hearing the echoes from her mother. How could this be the truth? “Are you still at the apartment?” her mom asked urgently.

“I’m actually with Jack and Lukey,” she explained as she began to pace back and forth once again. 

“I’m so sorry, honey, at least you’re out of the house. The boys treating you okay?” she asked. It was evident that her mother was holding back tears. Her mom was always good at doing her best and remaining calm for her kids.

“More than okay, they’re great hosts,” she said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I’m glad you’re with them, are you planning on staying there for a while?” her mom asked while Katherine turned her head around, looking down the hallway. She saw a glimpse of Luke walking towards the kitchen. 

Swallowing harshly, “I don’t know, I’m just trying to process I guess,” she explained while shaking her head again. A sob climbed up in her throat while she brushed her hair away from her face.

“I’m sure they won’t mind at all,” Ellen expressed.

They spoke for a few minutes longer, her parents trying to ask for details but it was difficult for them to come out. Explaining what happened, why it happened. As if it was her fault. Although, she knew it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been her fault, she was loyal. Maybe loyal and loving to a fault. 

She stayed silent on the phone, another tear falling onto her cheek as she looked down the hallway. She saw Jack poking his head into the hallway. Their eyes met and his eyes widened as if he was caught sneaking a look. A tight lip smile formed to her lips as she looked over towards Jack. 

Dropping her head, she sniffled again. “I’m gonna go back and watch the game with the boys,” she expressed. “I love you guys,” she offered.

“We love you too, it’ll be okay, Katie,” her mom offered. A sigh fell from her lips as she pulled the phone away from her ear. A sob fell from her lips as she shoved her phone back into her pocket. 

Reluctantly, she began walking down the hall back towards the living room. Her lips quivered as she stopped trying to stop the tears falling onto her cheek. It seemed like it was needed, she needed to let it out. Luke jolted up from the couch, jogging towards her and immediately wrapping his arms around her.

“It’s okay, Katie,” he whispered into her ear. Quickly, Jack followed in pursuit and wrapped his arms around his sister too. She squinted her eyes shut as she felt her body relax with her younger brothers’ embrace. “We’ve got you,”

[lanadelspray02]

HOLD ME ANYWAY: CHAPTER 9

paige x azzi

hey guys, surprise! I really hope y'all enjoy. I love love love this chapter. Please don't hate me :) let me know what your thoughts are please, maybe send a live reaction?

crossposted ao3 here

masterlist here

wc: 8472

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

Azzi didn’t remember falling asleep, but when she woke, the room was dim and still, tinged in early light, pale blue-grey spilling in through the slats of her blinds. The first thing she felt was weight: small and familiar. A soft heel nudged gently into her ribs. Tiny fingers were curled around the edge of Paige’s hoodie, still wrapped around her torso like a secret. She didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Ruby had climbed into her bed sometime in the early morning. She always did, on nights when Azzi got home late, quiet, instinctual, like her daughter could sense when she needed to be close.

Azzi stayed still for a moment, watching the little curl of her daughter’s body nestled in the blankets. Bunny was wedged between them, slightly crooked, one ear bent the wrong way. Ruby’s curls were wild with sleep, lips parted, soft breaths rising and falling like ocean waves.

Then...

“Mama?”

Azzi blinked. Ruby didn’t move, just murmured the word like a question, not fully awake, but not fully gone either.

“I’m here, baby,” Azzi whispered.

Ruby opened her eyes a second later, lids heavy, and blinked up at her.

“You got home late,” she said.

Azzi smiled faintly. “Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

Azzi hesitated. “I was with a friend.”

Ruby sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand. “Was it a fun friend?”

Azzi gave a soft breath of a laugh. “Yeah. She’s... fun.”

Ruby didn’t ask more. Just threw her arms up and flopped over dramatically. “I want toast.”

“You want toast?” Azzi echoed. “You didn’t even say good morning.”

“Mornin’,” Ruby mumbled into her pillow. “Now toast.”

Azzi grinned, rolled onto her side, and gave Ruby a playful nudge. “Let’s go, your highness.”

Ruby immediately clambered onto her back like it was tradition, bunny still clutched in one arm. Azzi stood up slowly, adjusting the weight of her daughter on her back as she made her way through the short hallway, each step softened by the creak of old floorboards.

The smell of butter and eggs greeted them before they even reached the lounge.

Her parents were already in the kitchen, the low hum of the radio mixing with the sizzle of scrambled eggs. Katie stood barefoot at the stove in her robe, stirring the pan with one hand and holding a steaming mug of tea in the other. Tim was buttering toast with exact precision at the counter, whistling under his breath like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Azzi paused just outside the threshold, Ruby still draped around her shoulders, and watched them for a moment, quiet, unnoticed.

There was something about the scene that caught in her throat.

Her dad, humming along to a song she couldn’t place. Her mom flipping a slice of sourdough like it was the most important task in the world. The way the morning light filtered in through the kitchen window and caught Ruby’s curls, turning them into a soft halo. Bunny dangling from her hand like he’d had a rough night.

Azzi closed her eyes for a second.

Sometimes, it hit her all at once, how much love existed in this tiny pocket of the world. How much it took to build something like this. How fragile it still felt.

Ruby squirmed slightly on her back.

“I smell eggs,” she whispered, half in awe.

Azzi smiled and stepped into the room. “One royal toast delivery incoming.”

Katie turned and smiled immediately, eyes creasing. “Well look who finally decided to join the land of the living.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” Tim added, offering Azzi a nod and Ruby a silly bow. “Princess Roo, you’re just in time.”

Azzi crouched down and let Ruby slide off her back onto the bench seat at the table, bunny in one hand, her little legs swinging off the edge. Katie plated eggs and toast without needing to ask and placed the plate in front of her granddaughter with quiet grace.

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

Azzi moved slower than usual that morning, easing into the space at the corner of the table, still in Paige's hoodie and sleep-wrinkled leggings. She wrapped her hands around a cup of coffee and just sat for a moment, listening to the sounds of breakfast, of her dad teasing Ruby about finishing her toast, of her mom asking if she wanted jam or honey.

It felt... sacred. Not in a big, dramatic way.

But in the kind of way you almost miss when you're too busy moving through the world. The kind of way that makes you want to hold your breath and memorise everything, the smell, the sounds, the texture of a quiet morning wrapped in love.

Azzi glanced across the table.

Ruby was picking up toast with both hands, her face serious with the task, crumbs gathering at the corners of her mouth. Her curls bounced every time she shifted. Katie leaned down to wipe a bit of jam from her cheek, tucking a loose curl behind her ear with instinctual tenderness.

Azzi’s chest swelled.

Sometimes it hit her all over again, how much her parents loved Ruby. Not out of obligation. Not out of necessity. But fully, deeply, fiercely. Like Ruby belonged to them, too. Like there had never been any question.

She wasn’t just Azzi’s daughter.

She was theirs.

And that... that kind of love didn’t come around often.

Azzi looked down at her coffee, then back at her daughter.

Could someone like Paige ever feel that way?

Could someone who didn’t come from this, who didn’t know what it was like to build a life out of something unexpected, ever understand what it meant to love Ruby this much?

She didn’t have the answer. Not yet.

But the thought settled into her chest like a folded note, tucked away, waiting.

Ruby looked up, mouth full, and grinned. “Mama, you should make eggs like Grandma.”

Azzi laughed softly. “I’d be offended, but you’re probably right.”

Tim winked. “We’ll add it to the list of things she needs to learn.”

Azzi smiled, warm, quiet, a little wistful.

For now, this moment was enough.

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

Paige was awake long before the 7:00 a.m. alarm went off, lying there in the early grey light, staring at the ceiling, her heart pounding too quickly for something as basic as a Saturday. But it wasn't a simple day. Not after last night.

She stretched under the covers, arm slung across her eyes, trying to breathe through the familiar swirl in her chest. Not nerves, not exactly, something softer. Restless. Hopeful in the kind of way that made her feel like she was standing too close to something she wasn’t supposed to touch.

Azzi had fallen asleep beside her. Head tilted against her shoulder. Breath warm. Fingers curled just barely beneath the blanket like she didn’t know whether to reach for Paige or not.

And Paige had just sat there, completely undone by it.

She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t dared to. Because she didn’t want to break whatever it was, that weightless, still moment where everything felt like maybe it could be more.

Now, the silence in her dorm room felt hollow. Her blanket was twisted around her legs, her pillow half-off the bed. The air was stale. Still. Her hoodie, the one Azzi had worn home, wasn’t on the floor where she expected it to be.

Her stomach turned.

Azzi had taken it with her. She could picture Azzi walking around her own home in the comfort of her hoodie. Azzi wore it home. She hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t asked to keep it. She just... had. And Paige had let her.

Because part of her, a stupid, reckless part, liked the idea of Azzi sleeping in it.

Liked the idea of her waking up with it still wrapped around her.

Paige sat up slowly, dragging her hand over her face and through her hair. Picturing Azzi walking through the door last night. Crop top. Jean shorts. She looked like a dream Paige hadn’t earned the right to keep having. The way her smile had curled just a little at the corners. The way she’d leaned into the teasing, relaxed, real. The way she’d lingered at the door, hoodie draped around her like it belonged to her.

God, she looked so good.

Paige groaned and collapsed backward onto the mattress, arm flung dramatically across her face.

And then....

The door slammed open.

She startled upright.

“Good MORNING, my twin!” Nika’s voice rang out like a damn siren, smoothie in one hand and her phone in the other. “Are we doing a post-date debrief or are you still blacked out from emotional intimacy?”

Paige blinked. “You...what?”

Nika tossed her smoothie onto the desk and flopped onto Paige’s bed like she paid rent. "You look like someone played the ‘soft hands’ card and you folded instantly."Did she reject you or did you just combust when your pinkies touched?”

“She didn’t reject me,” Paige mumbled, shoving her face back into her pillow.

“So something happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Nika squinted. “Define ‘nothing.’”

Before Paige could respond, KK poked her head in with a bag of mini muffins and a chaotic energy level that belonged to someone who never needed caffeine. “Oh my god. Did she sleep over?!”

“No,” Paige said into the mattress.

Nika grinned. “But she stayed late, didn’t she?”

KK gasped and launched herself onto the other side of the bed. “Tell us everything. What movie? Did you touch knees? Who reached for the popcorn first? Did you kiss?!”

“We didn’t kiss,” Paige muttered.

“Liar,” KK said immediately.

“I’m not lying!”

“You’re glowing,” Nika added helpfully. “And your hair is doing that fluffed-up thing it does when you’ve been lying awake thinking about someone. This someone who you also happened to just have a date with last night”

Paige sat up and shoved them both with her feet. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Oh sure,” Nika said, tone full of mock sympathy. “You invited her over, lit a candle, made a custom snack spread, put on a movie, shared a blanket, and stared at her like she hung the stars. But it wasn’t a date.”

“It wasn’t!” Paige insisted, though her voice cracked near the end.

KK leaned in, grinning. “But it felt like one, didn’t it?”

Paige didn’t answer.

Because yeah. It had.

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

After enduring all the playful teasing from Nika and KK about her so-called “date,” Paige was relieved when they finally left her room, their laughter echoing faintly down the hall. At last, some peace, and privacy.

Her phone sat face-down on the desk, untouched. She reached for it slowly, almost cautiously, like it might scorch her fingers the moment she turned it over.

No new notifications.

Azzi wasn’t really a morning texter.

Still, something tugged in her chest.

She unlocked it and opened their thread. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.

She typed:

Had fun last night. You looked really...

Backspaced.

Tried again:

Let’s hang out again? If you want?

Deleted it.

Finally, she landed on something simple. Easy.

But honest.

No pressure or anything, but I kinda wanna see you again.

She hit send before she could think too hard.

Then tossed the phone face-down on the bed and covered her face with both hands.

Out from the living room, Nika peeked her head through the gap of the opening of the door and said, “Did you just throw your phone like it told you your crush died?”

“She texted her!” KK whispered loudly, nudging Nika with her elbow.

Nika leaned over and smirked. “You wanna go get brunch or sit here refreshing your screen for three hours?”

“Shut up,” Paige groaned.

KK tossed a muffin at her. “You’re in love.”

“I’m not in love.”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Yet.”

They both cackled as they left the room once again, closing the door with dramatic flair.

Paige sat there in the quiet again, heart still racing.

She turned the phone over one more time. No reply.

But she hadn’t expected one right away.

Azzi wasn’t someone who rushed anything.

And Paige wasn’t sure if she wanted her to, not really. Because if this was going to happen, if it was ever going to be real... she wanted it to mean something.

She laid back down again and stared at the ceiling.

Wondered if Azzi was thinking about her too.

Wondered if she felt the same pull — the same ache in her chest.

Wondered if she was falling, the way Paige was.

Quickly.

Quietly.

All at once.

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

Azzi didn’t want to be here.

Her legs were sore from too many hours on hardwood. Her head ached from too little sleep. And weekend practices were the worst kind, not just because they cut into time that could be spent curled up with Ruby or hiding from responsibility under her blanket, but because they stretched. Long. Loud. Endless.

Still, she showed up.

Hair scraped back into a loose bun, wisps already escaping around her temples. Training tank sticking lightly to her spine. Black shorts riding higher than she liked, the elastic catching her skin in a way she didn’t have the energy to fix. Her duffel bag slung low over one shoulder.

She pushed open the gym doors and squinted against the sharp white lights overhead. The echo of sneakers and shouts bounced off the rafters like static.

And then she saw her.

Paige was already stretching near the far wall, one leg extended, the other bent as she leaned forward over her knee, calm, composed, laser-focused. Her hair was pulled half-up, her expression unreadable, and for a second, Azzi told herself to keep walking.

But Paige looked up.

Their eyes met across the gym.

And something in Azzi’s chest stalled.

It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a beat. Just a moment where neither of them looked away. Where something settled in the space between them: a memory from the night before, a trace of what might’ve happened if Azzi hadn’t left. 

Paige’s gaze dropped first.

Azzi exhaled and made her way to the baseline.

Warm-ups passed in a blur. They were slotted into the same drill line, not by choice, just the rhythm of routine. Pass, cut, shoot. Rebound, rotate.

Neither said a word.

Azzi kept her focus tight, hands crisp, footwork clean. Paige did the same, but every so often, she could feel her near. The heat of her just off to the side. The echo of that voice from last night still humming in her ears.

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

Water break came like a breath of mercy.

Azzi peeled off to the side, grabbing her water bottle and dropping her duffel bag beside her with a quiet thud. She hesitated only a second before unzipping it.

Paige’s hoodie lay folded on top, soft and worn and still smelling faintly like vanilla and laundry detergent.

She picked it up carefully, almost reverently, and walked across the gym.

Paige was facing the sideline, towel looped around her neck, brows knit in thought. When she noticed Azzi approaching, she straightened just slightly, the tiniest flicker of tension crossing her face.

Azzi stopped a step in front of her and held the hoodie out with both hands.

“I washed it,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “Didn’t want to... just keep it.”

Paige stared at her for a beat too long.

Then reached out and took it, their fingers brushing.

“You didn’t have to give it back,” she said softly.

Azzi offered the faintest smile. One that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Then turned and walked away without another word.

She joined Caroline, Ines, Amari, and Aaliyah near the bleachers, sliding easily into their chaotic circle of chatter, half-laughing, half-listening, grateful for the noise, for the distraction, for something to do with her hands.

Paige watched her go.

Still holding the hoodie in both hands.

Still feeling the ghost of Azzi’s fingers against her skin.

Practice resumed. This time, the drills ramped up, fast-break scrimmage segments, three-on-two scenarios. Paige threw herself into it, jaw tight, feet quick. Every time Azzi cut across her vision, it rattled something in her chest.

“You good?” Nika asked as they subbed out briefly.

“Fine,” Paige said automatically.

“Because you’re playing like you saw your soulmate and forgot how to function.”

KK jogged up from the baseline and caught the end of that sentence. “Oh my God, did Azzi give you your hoodie back?!”

Nika grinned. “She did. I saw it.”

KK gasped dramatically and nearly tripped over her own feet. “You got a hoodie return?! That’s like... emotional third base.”

Paige flushed. “It’s just laundry.”

“Sure it is,” Nika said, deadpan. “And KK studies for the fun of it.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

“I bet she looked good in your hoodie though” KK added winking at Paige and then casually, glancing toward Azzi, who was now joking with Aaliyah over Gatorade flavors. “Crop top. Smirk. Return-the-hoodie energy.”

“She always looks good,” Paige muttered before she could stop herself.

Nika’s eyebrows shot up. “Ohhhh. So we’re admitting things now.”

Paige straightened, defensive. “It wasn’t a date.”

KK made a face. “Bueckers. C’mon.”

Nika elbowed her. “Listen. It’s the weekend. You clearly like her. She’s clearly not running. Why don’t you just—ask her out?”

“I—” Paige hesitated.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” KK asked. “She says no? You end up hanging with us at Ted’s and pretend your heart didn’t shatter? That’s what mimosas are for.”

“I don’t know if she’s... ready,” Paige said softly, barely audible.

Nika’s teasing softened. “Then ask in a way that lets her say yes or no without pressure.”

Paige looked back across the court.

Azzi was mid-laugh, one hand pushing Ines away, the other cradling her water bottle like it held more than hydration, like it grounded her.

Paige felt her chest twist again.

Because every time she looked at her, it was harder not to fall.

Harder not to hope.

Harder not to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Azzi was feeling the exact same thing.

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

Practice ended the way it always did, sweaty, breathless, chaotic. Sneakers squeaked in uneven rhythms, and the sound of laughter bounced off the high-gloss gym walls as everyone scattered toward the locker room or toward water bottles that had long since gone lukewarm.

Paige stood at the three-point line, hands on her hips, watching Azzi from the corner of her eye.

She was already heading toward the exit, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, curls pulled into a messy high bun, the tail of her tank clinging to the curve of her back. She moved fast, not quite like she was in a rush, but like she had somewhere she wanted to be.

And for once, Paige wanted that somewhere to be with her.

She hesitated, just a breath, just long enough to feel the fear creep in, and then she jogged forward before her nerves could catch up.

“Azzi,” she called out, just loud enough.

Azzi stopped and turned, a little surprised. “You good?”

Paige slowed as she caught up, brushing a hand back through her hair. She was still a little out of breath, but it wasn��t from the sprints.

“I didn’t want to let you leave without...” She trailed off, then smiled, lopsided and nervous. “Without asking.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, expression unreadable. “Asking what?”

Paige ran a hand down her neck, her voice going soft, almost careful. “If you wanna hang out again. Today. Or tonight. Just us. No basketball. No... pressure. Just something dumb. Fun.”

Azzi blinked. “Like a date?”

The question hung between them.

Paige swallowed. “Yeah. If you want it to be.”

Azzi looked down, lips pressing together, not in rejection, but like she was holding something back.

And then, she raised an eyebrow. “What’d you have in mind? Candlelight dinner? Rooftop picnic?”

Paige gave a soft laugh, relieved to feel the teasing tone in Azzi’s voice. “I was actually thinking... arcade.”

That caught Azzi off guard. “Arcade?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, voice loosening. “Someplace loud and dumb with broken air hockey tables and overpriced slushies. No expectations. Just, fun. Act like kids. Forget everything for a few hours.”

Azzi studied her for a second. Paige could practically feel the judgment, not cruel, but amused.

Then Azzi shrugged one shoulder, a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. “That’s cute.”

Paige smiled sheepishly. “That a yes?”

Azzi let the silence stretch, like she was enjoying letting Paige squirm just a little. Then finally, with a shake of her head and a grin that wasn’t really teasing at all, she said, “Okay. Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Paige exhaled, like she’d been holding her breath for years.

“I’ll pick you up tonight at 6?”

Azzi smirked. “Do you even remember my address?”

Paige’s cheeks flushed. “I have it saved in my notes.”

“Oh and we are definitely making this a competition.”

“Deal,” Paige said instantly.

There was a pause, quiet but full, not awkward, just charged. Then Paige stepped forward and gave Azzi a quick hug. Not too tight, not too long. Just enough.

Azzi leaned into it, barely.

When they pulled back, Paige grinned, heart thudding hard behind her ribs.

“See you tonight.”

Azzi nodded, biting back her smile. “Don’t be late.”

Paige just arrived back at her dorm dropping her duffel bag and flopping face-first onto her bed like her legs had stopped working.

Everything hurt. Her face hurt from smiling.

She rolled onto her back, hoodie still bunched in one hand, and grabbed her phone.

She didn’t overthink it this time. 

Paige → Nika:

thank you.

The reply came ten seconds later. 

Nika:

you’re welcome for the amazing advice twin.

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

Azzi’s bedroom looked like it had been ransacked by two different hurricanes, one made of indecision, the other named Ruby.

Clothes were everywhere, jeans draped over the desk chair, crop tops tangled with socks, a sports bra somehow clinging to the corner of her lamp. Her full-length mirror was streaked from hasty makeup touch-ups and toddler handprints. On the floor, a scattering of rainbow blocks had formed a tiny minefield, the kind Azzi only realized when she stepped on one barefoot.

And in the middle of it all stood Ruby, proudly wearing mismatched socks, one of Azzi’s scrunchies around her wrist, and a glittery tutu over her leggings, the same tutu she'd worn to daycare three days in a row.

“I got dwessed!” Ruby declared, spinning so fast she almost toppled into the dresser.

Azzi, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her duffel bag, gave her a tired but fond smile. “You’re not even coming with me, baby.”

Ruby froze mid-spin, sticking her lower lip out. “Wanna come.”

Azzi sighed, dragging a pair of jeans out of the bag and holding them up against herself. “Not tonight, Roo. I’ll be home before bedtime, I promise”

“Who pickin’ you up?” Ruby asked, plopping onto the bed and bouncing until one of Azzi’s hoodies fell onto the floor.

Azzi hesitated.

She kept her voice light. “Just a friend, baby.”

Ruby tilted her head like a puppy, squinting. “The smile one?”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

Ruby grinned, her little fingers pulling at a loose thread on the blanket. “The one you smile ‘bout. Last night. You was smilin’.”

Azzi opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Her heart did something sharp and tender all at once.

She got to her feet, stepped over a discarded pair of shoes, and crouched in front of Ruby. “You’re too smart, you know that?”

Ruby nodded sagely. “Yup.”

Azzi scooped her up and kissed her cheek. “You’re trouble.”

“I’m cuuuute,” Ruby sang, squishing Azzi’s face between her tiny hands.

Azzi laughed despite herself and carried her over to the mirror, trying to focus. She had roughly forty-five minutes to get dressed, clean up, and mentally prepare herself for a night that already had her heart thudding in her chest.

And she hadn’t even picked an outfit.

Ten minutes later, she stood barefoot in front of the mirror, holding up two completely opposite vibes.

In one hand: a long-sleeved black crop top and fitted high-waisted jeans. It was a little bold. A little risky. It hugged her waist and made her feel something close to powerful.

In the other: oversized Huskies hoodie and leggings. Comfortable. Familiar. Like a shield.

Ruby stood at her feet, trying to wrangle one of her shoes onto her bunny.

“Which one?” Azzi asked, glancing down.

Ruby looked up, eyes wide. “That one,” she said, pointing at the crop top. “You look pwetty.”

Azzi arched a brow. “I look what?”

“Pwettier than Mama Shark,” Ruby said seriously, like there was no higher compliment.

Azzi burst out laughing just as Katie walked past the doorway and paused, taking the scene in.

“You’re glowing,” her mom said, arms crossed and knowing.

Azzi groaned. “Not you too.”

Katie smirked. “I’m just saying. Maybe dressing like someone worth noticing is about to show up.”

“I’m just going to hang out,” Azzi said weakly.

“Mmhmm.”

Before she could mount a defense, Ruby pointed at the hoodie. “Too big. No dressin’ big.”

Katie raised her hands. “Well, that’s settled.”

And that was how it started.

Within minutes, Ruby was clapping and cheering while Azzi strutted awkwardly around the room in her two outfit options. Katie offered “helpful” commentary, too formal, too hot, too ‘first date of The Bachelor’, until all three of them agreed on the long-sleeved crop top and jeans.

“Cute but casual,” Katie said. “Like you didn’t spend twenty minutes crying about your options.”

“I didn’t cry,” Azzi muttered.

Katie gave her a look. “Okay.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the warmth of it settled deep.

Ruby beamed up at her. “You look happy.”

Azzi blinked, heart catching. She reached down and pulled Ruby close, holding her tiny body against her chest.

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

“Love you too,” Ruby mumbled, already distracted by the sparkly scrunchie she was trying to put on her foot.

Katie stepped forward, brushing Azzi’s hair behind her ear the way she had since Azzi was little. Her voice softened.

“You know you don’t have to apologize for being a mum and a person, right?”

Azzi nodded, throat tight.

“It’s okay to want this,” Katie said. “It doesn’t make you selfish. It makes you human.”

Azzi didn’t answer, just wrapped her arms tighter around Ruby and nodded again.

After the impromptu fashion show and a chaotic ten minutes of cleaning up building blocks, Azzi found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, alone now, Ruby busy in the lounge with Katie. She held one of Ruby’s softest toys, a lavender elephant with only one eye, and stared at her reflection.

The room was quiet, finally. But inside her chest, it was anything but.

She loved this house. This life. The rhythm of bedtime stories and sticky fingers and early mornings where she could barely keep her eyes open.

She loved Ruby with a kind of ferocity she’d never known before motherhood, a kind of love that made her brave and scared in equal measure.

And this place, this home, was where Ruby was safest. Where she was held and understood.

Azzi had never let anyone into it. Not fully. Not since.

So how could she let someone like Paige in, someone who burned so bright, who laughed so loud, who made Azzi feel like she was 17 again and anything was possible?

Would Paige even want this part of her?

Would she stay?

Azzi’s fingers curled tighter around the stuffed elephant. Her chest ached with hope and fear braided too closely to tell apart.

But then, unbidden, she thought of last night.

Of the look Paige had given her on the couch, half-hidden under the blanket. Gentle. Curious. Safe.

Azzi let herself breathe.

Maybe, just maybe, that look had meant more than she was letting herself believe.

“Azzi!” Katie’s voice rang from down the hall. “Car just pulled in!”

Azzi jumped, heart in her throat.

She scrambled to the mirror, checked her hair, twisted a curl, fixed her crop top, and took one last breath.

In the lounge, Ruby was pressed to the window, little palms on the glass.

“She here!” Ruby squealed. “She walkin’!”

Azzi smiled despite the panic hammering in her chest. She rushed over, dropped to her knees, and kissed Ruby all over her face, soft and fast, until Ruby squealed with laughter.

“Mama!” she giggled. “You squishin’ me!”

“You’re the squishiest,” Azzi said, squeezing her one last time.

“Be back,” Ruby said, serious. “Soon?”

“Soon,” Azzi promised. “You be good for Grandma and Poppy.”

“Kay Mum.”

She stood just as the knock echoed on the door, but Paige never got to knock twice.

Azzi was already there, heart pounding.

She opened it.

And there she was.

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

Paige stood just outside, in olive cargo pants, a white crop top, and a cardigan falling open over her shoulders. Her hair was loose around her face, and she looked nervous, hands jammed in her pockets, mouth twitching like she was about to say something and forgot how.

“Hey,” Azzi said, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind her.

Paige stared for a moment.

“Hey,” she finally breathed. “You look—”

She didn’t finish. Didn’t need to.

Azzi smiled. “Let’s go.”

The car ride started quiet.

Not awkward, not tense, just soft. Muted. Like both of them were still adjusting to the fact that they were doing this once again. No basketball. No teammates. Just… each other.

Paige had opened the passenger door for her again, of course. Told her she looked beautiful like it slipped out before she could stop it. Azzi had blushed, tried to laugh it off, and mumbled something about Paige’s cardigan and how she “cleaned up okay.”

Now they were in Paige’s car, winding through streets lit gold by the sinking sun, windows cracked, the summer air curling gently through the cabin. Azzi had one arm resting against the window, the other tucked in her lap, fingers playing absently with the rings on her fingers. Paige drove with one hand on the wheel and one resting near the gearshift, thumb tapping to the beat of the playlist.

And then it happened.

The soft strum of Daniel Caesar’s “Hold Me Down” slid in through the speakers.

Paige’s hand froze.

Azzi turned her head slowly, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Is this…?”

Paige cleared her throat. “What?”

Azzi raised a brow. “You sang this at Ted’s. On the mic. The same night you were pretending not to look at me during the chorus.”

Paige’s ears turned pink. “I wasn’t...”

“You so were.”

“I mean… it’s a good song,” Paige said, eyes firmly on the road.

“Uh-huh.”

Azzi’s tone was playful now, her earlier nerves melting just slightly. “So you did mean it then?”

Paige risked a glance sideways. Azzi was staring at her, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“I didn’t not mean it,” Paige muttered.

Azzi’s heart jumped.

Paige wasn’t joking. Not entirely.

“That’s bold,” Azzi said softly.

Paige smirked. “You wore that crop top on purpose.”

Azzi looked out the window to hide her smile. “Maybe.”

Paige swallowed. Her grip on the wheel tightened slightly.

They fell quiet again, but the song filled the space between them, thick with memory. Azzi remembered being in that crowd, drink in hand, heart stupid and full in her chest as Paige’s voice floated through the room, low and sure. Her eyes had found Azzi halfway through the second verse and never really left.

It had meant something. Even back then.

Now it felt heavier. Realer. Scarier.

Paige pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, easing into a spot near the front.

Neither of them moved at first.

“You ready to destroy me at every game in there?” Paige asked, her voice lighter again, teasing, but laced with something else.

Azzi turned to her, a little breathless. “Only if you promise not to cry about it.”

Paige smiled, slow, easy, and then opened her door.

Azzi followed, her legs a little shaky as she stepped out.

The arcade lights glowed through the windows. Inside was noise and color and the promise of something simple.

But out here, between them, it wasn’t simple at all.

And neither of them wanted it to be.

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

The arcade was loud the second they stepped in, not the kind of deafening chaos that made you want to turn around and leave, but a kind of nostalgic, childlike noise that wrapped itself around them instantly. Neon lights blinked from every corner, the air smelled faintly of greasy popcorn and static electricity, and the clatter of tokens and laughter rose above the beat of some old Top 40 track echoing from outdated speakers overhead.

Paige held the door open and let Azzi walk through first. She couldn’t help it, her eyes traced the curve of Azzi’s back, the swing of her that hung loose, the way her crop top rode just slightly up when she lifted her arms to adjust her sleeve. Paige’s hand twitched by her side, resisting the urge to reach out and

“Wow,” Azzi said, voice half-awed, half-amused as she looked around. “This place is exactly as chaotic as I remember.”

Paige grinned. “Right? Time capsule of pure childhood chaos.”

They stood at the counter to buy tokens, Azzi nudging her hip against Paige’s when she tried to sneak her card in first.

“I’m paying,” Azzi said.

“You’re not,” Paige replied smoothly, already swiping. “Winner buys slushies. That’s the rule.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but her smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Confident, huh?”

“Extremely,” Paige said, holding out half the tokens like a peace offering. “Unless you’re scared.”

“Not even a little.”

She snatched them from Paige’s palm with a smirk and sauntered off toward the first game, a brightly lit shooting range with plastic guns and overly dramatic sound effects.

Paige trailed behind her, pulse skittering.

They started with the gun game, standing side by side, holding neon rifles too big for the screens they were shooting at. Azzi lined up her shot like she was back in the gym, elbows sharp, eye narrowed. Paige, on the other hand, was pure chaos, jerking the trigger like it owed her money.

“Are you even aiming?” Azzi asked, biting back a laugh.

“I’m vibing,” Paige declared, missing three zombies in a row.

Azzi shot them all with ruthless precision. “You’re dying.”

“I’m dying with style,” Paige countered.

Azzi snorted, actually snorted, and that alone made Paige forget what wave of enemies they were on. It was that laugh again. That laugh Paige had been thinking about since movie night.

When the game ended, Azzi’s score blinked triumphantly in neon yellow. Paige’s was… not close.

“Winner buys slushies,” Azzi said sweetly, already walking away.

Paige followed, laughing. “You’re lucky I’m easily charmed.”

Next up: the racing games.

They slid into the red-and-blue plastic seats, side by side, gripping worn steering wheels as engines revved on-screen. Paige picked a flashy sports car with manuel gears. Azzi, predictably, picked the flashy automatic car, sleek, fast, overpowered.

Halfway through the race, Paige started veering into Azzi’s lane, bumping her slightly just to get a reaction.

“Hey!” Azzi shoved her shoulder back, nearly knocking Paige’s elbow off the console.

“Strategic aggression,” Paige said, grinning.

“You’re gonna crash.”

“Already did,” Paige replied. “Emotionally.”

Azzi burst out laughing, the sound spilling out of her so easily now, open and unguarded. Paige looked at her out of the corner of her eye, heart tightening. She looked so damn good when she laughed. Bright. Free.

Azzi won again, of course.

But Paige didn’t mind, not if it meant she got to keep seeing Azzi’s smile. 

Then came the air hockey table, where everything devolved.

The first round was close. The second was war. Azzi was ruthless, grinning as she slapped the puck toward Paige’s side with surgical accuracy.

“Okay, calm down, Serena Williams,” Paige huffed, retrieving the puck again.

Azzi didn’t miss a beat. “Wrong sport.”

“Same energy.”

Paige finally scored after three straight losses and threw her arms in the air like she’d won the championship.

Azzi leaned on her side of the table, eyes sparkling. “That was pity defense. I’m being nice.”

“Lies,” Paige said, pointing the mallet at her. “That was pure skill.”

“Delusion,” Azzi muttered, grabbing the puck back with a grin.

Paige smiled too, but hers lingered a little longer.

She kept watching Azzi, the way her cheeks flushed when she was mid-game, the way her laugh came easier with each round. There was something about the way Azzi was moving now, more relaxed, more herself. Paige could feel it shift in the air between them, like the weight Azzi always carried was softening around the edges.

And God, Paige wanted to touch her.

Just… brush her hand. Her cheek. Something.

The air hockey puck spun off the table and skidded across the floor, narrowly missing a small child’s foot. Azzi bent over, breathless with laughter, and Paige leaned against the side of the table like she’d just played in the Final Four.

“I’m filing a formal protest,” Paige declared.

Azzi shot her a look. “You’ve lost five games in a row.”

“I’m a late bloomer.”

“You’re a sore loser.”

Paige grinned, eyes bright. “And yet you still hang out with me. Curious.”

Azzi tried to roll her eyes but failed, mostly because Paige looked so damn proud of herself, standing there in her crop top and that cardigan that shouldn’t have been attractive but somehow was. It hung loosely over her frame, the sleeves pushed up, revealing the lean line of her arms. Azzi caught herself staring.

God, get it together, she thought, shaking her head.

Paige nudged her. “Come on. Next station.”

Dance Dance Revolution.

It was barely functional, one of the arrows didn’t light up, but Paige still dragged Azzi over like it was the crown jewel of the arcade.

“No chance you beat me at this,” she said, stepping up confidently.

Azzi stood beside her, arms folded. “You’re about to embarrass yourself.”

The song started, some hyper pop track that didn’t seem to have a decent beat. Paige immediately lost all coordination. Meanwhile, Azzi started hitting the steps with smooth precision, body swaying effortlessly with each movement.

By halfway through the track, a small crowd of middle schoolers had gathered to cheer her on.

Paige, panting and two steps behind, gave her a look mid-spin. “What the hell...are you secretly a dance major?”

Azzi didn’t even look at her. “Just rhythm.”

Paige nearly tripped. Azzi didn’t stop smiling.

When the song ended and Azzi hit the final pose, Paige threw up her hands dramatically. “I have never felt more betrayed.”

Azzi leaned in close, voice a little breathy, a little smug. “You picked the game.”

Paige blinked. “You’re terrifying.”

Azzi laughed and tugged her toward the next machine.

Skee-Ball.

“Now this,” Paige said, “is where I reclaim my dignity.”

“You sound very confident for someone who just tripped over an arrow.”

Paige scooped up the first ball and lined up her shot with exaggerated focus. She rolled it, and completely missed the center ring.

Azzi barely tried and hit the 50-point pocket on her first throw.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Paige said.

“I’m just good at things,” Azzi replied innocently.

They went back and forth, Paige making jokes about muscle memory and Azzi pretending not to aim, until one of Paige’s throws rebounded and landed in the 100 slot. She whooped so loud that two kids turned and stared.

“That’s it,” she said, pumping her fist. “I’m retiring a champion.”

Azzi laughed so hard she leaned into her, just a little. But enough for Paige to feel the brush of her arm, the heat through the thin fabric of her cardigan. Paige didn’t move away. Neither did Azzi.

Basketball Pop-a-Shot.

It wasn’t even a question who would win.

They each took a hoop, the countdown starting overhead.

Three. Two. One.

Azzi was fast, efficient, laser-focused. Paige, on the other hand, was all flash, leaning back, flicking her wrist, launching dramatic high-arc shots that somehow kept going in.

By the end of the round, Paige had more points.

“Ha!” she yelled, tossing her last ball in the air. “Finally.”

Azzi looked genuinely surprised. “You… won?”

“By three. And I will be insufferable about it forever.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, wide and bright. Her cheeks were flushed, strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Paige looked at her, heart skipping.

“I like you like this,” she said before she could stop herself.

Azzi blinked. “Like what?”

Paige swallowed. “Relaxed. Happy.”

Azzi looked down. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. “I like me like this too. It’s rare.”

Paige gave Azzi’s hand a tug. “Come on, let’s get our slushies. Looks like I’m paying, lucky you.”

Azzi laughed “Don’t blame luck just ’cause I beat you at everything but the basketball game. Face it, I’ve got skills and you now owe me a slushie”

They stood there in the arcade buzz, light and noise around them, but something slower humming underneath.

Paige reached for her slushie. “You want a break?”

Azzi nodded, still smiling. “Yeah. Let’s sit.”

They took their slushies and drifted toward a bench near the back of the arcade, where the lights weren’t quite as aggressive and the speakers buzzed just a little quieter.

Azzi flopped down first, sipping through her straw with a tired sigh. “I forgot how much cardio this place is.”

Paige dropped beside her, their shoulders brushing for a second before she leaned back against the wall. “You say that like you didn’t annihilate me in every game.”

Azzi smiled around her straw. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’ll just carry this humiliation for the rest of my life.”

She meant it as a joke, but her eyes lingered a second too long, soft and full. The kind of look that made Azzi’s heart stutter, even though she was trying not to show it.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Just sipping. Breathing.

Then Azzi asked, “You go to arcades a lot as a kid?”

Paige shrugged, twisting the straw in her cup. “Not really. Not with family, anyway. But yeah… birthday parties, team stuff. I always liked it. You?”

Azzi nodded. “My brothers loved places like this. Loud, messy, always some kind of sugar high happening.”

“Big family vibes?”

Azzi hesitated for a second, then nodded again. “Yeah. Loud house. Lots of opinions. Not a lot of alone time.”

Paige grinned. “Opposite for me. I grew up with my dad and stepmum, mostly. My little brother Drew was the only consistent chaos. The rest… kind of shifted a lot.”

Azzi glanced sideways at her, watching her fingers turn the cup slowly in her hands. “That hard?”

Paige was quiet for a second, then said, “Sometimes. I think I just learned to be the easy one. The one who didn’t need much.”

Azzi’s brows drew together, heart aching just a little.

“You’re not that now,” she said gently.

Paige looked over, startled. “What?”

“You’re not the easy one. Not here. Not with me.”

Paige blinked, like she didn’t quite know what to do with that.

Then she smiled — slowly. “Good.”

A beat passed.

Then Paige said, softer, “My mum called yesterday. Told me she and Ryan and Lauren are coming to our game Friday night.”

Azzi looked at her in surprise. “Oh, wow. That’s a big deal, right?”

Paige made a face. “Kind of. I mean, she barely ever comes. And when she does… it just messes with my head.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Why?”

Paige sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I always feel like I’ve got something to prove. Like I need to be perfect for her to notice. And when she’s watching, I can’t stop thinking about everything I’m doing wrong. I get anxious. Stiff. It’s like I forget how to just… play.”

Azzi watched her for a moment, heart tugging. “Paige…”

Paige offered a small, humorless smile. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Azzi said. “That sounds really hard.”

Paige took a long sip of her slushie and shrugged again. “I just hate feeling like I’m never enough. Like whatever I do, it won’t matter.”

Azzi shifted closer, until their thighs were nearly touching. She reached down and tapped her knee against Paige’s. “You are enough.”

Paige met her eyes.

“I mean it,” Azzi added. “And not just because you finally beat me at basketball pop-a-shot.”

Paige laughed, the sound small but real.

“I’m serious,” Azzi said. “You’re smart, and kind, and driven. You care about people. You make me feel seen.” Her voice dropped, sincere. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not her.”

Something in Paige’s face cracked, just slightly — the edge of a wall softening. She exhaled, eyes still locked with Azzi’s. “How do you always know what to say?”

Azzi smiled gently. “Because I’ve been there too.”

Paige didn’t say anything to that. She just looked at her, heart in her throat, and reached over without thinking — brushing her pinkie softly against Azzi’s.

It felt like the quietest promise in the world.

Azzi reached down and nudged Paige’s sneaker with her own trying to turn the moment back into playful banter. “So… you always this competitive?”

Paige’s face lit back up. “Only when I like the person I’m playing against.”

Azzi blinked, heat rising to her cheeks. “You’re not subtle.”

“I’m very subtle,” Paige said. “That’s why I’m leaning halfway into you right now and pretending it’s for warmth.”

Azzi just laughed. “Come on let's go find something else we can play”

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

They were walking past the claw machines when Paige stopped suddenly, tugged by instinct.

A unicorn plush stared at them from behind the glass — big-eyed, purple, glitter-horn. It was hideous. And perfect.

Azzi tilted her head. “What.”

Paige pointed. “I’m winning that for you.”

Azzi raised a brow. “That thing?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll never get it.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Challenge accepted.”

Azzi watched with arms crossed and a smirk as Paige began her slow descent into the claw machine void.

First attempt: the claw missed completely.

Second: it picked the unicorn up and dropped it halfway.

Third: total failure.

Azzi was snickering by the fourth try. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“No,” Paige said, eyes locked. “I’m committed.”

On about the twelfth attempt, the claw actually gripped the unicorn and didn’t let go. It dragged it over the edge, wobbled, and then dropped it into the chute.

Paige grabbed it with a grin of pure triumph and held it out to her.

“For you.”

Azzi stared at it. Then at Paige.

Then she took it, slowly, and hugged it to her chest like it meant something. Maybe it did.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured.

“You like it,” Paige said, voice softer now. Less teasing. “Admit it.”

Azzi met her eyes. And didn’t deny it.

Azzi noticed a photo booth tucked into the back corner of the arcade, half-hidden behind a stack of the outdated Dance Dance Revolution machines and a soft drink machine that made alarming noises.

“Come on,” Azzi said, nudging Paige with her elbow. “Let’s make something for your dorm wall.”

“After you,” she said, voice low. Sliding the curtain across.

Azzi gave her a look, half-eye roll, half-teasing smile, but stepped in anyway. Paige followed, and the moment she sat down, the space shrank. Not just physically, emotionally. Their knees touched. Shoulders brushed. The curtain fell closed behind them like it was sealing them in.

“Okay,” Paige said, jamming the tokens into the slot. “Rules?”

Azzi arched a brow. “There are rules?”

“Obviously. One funny face, one nice one, one serious… and one wildcard.”

Azzi grinned. “Define wildcard.”

Paige met her gaze. “Surprise me.”

The countdown on the screen lit up.

Three. Two. One.

First shot: Azzi scrunched up her nose and bared her teeth in an exaggerated growl, while Paige stuck out her tongue with wide, crossed eyes. They burst out laughing. 

Second shot: They leaned together automatically, smiling, bright, natural. Azzi’s hair fell against Paige’s shoulder.

Paige barely breathed.

Third shot: Paige turned toward Azzi just as the flash went off, catching her mid-glance, eyes wide, unsure.

Fourth shot: Azzi looked at Paige.

And didn’t look away.

The screen blinked its countdown again, but neither moved. Paige’s breath caught in her throat as the light flickered across Azzi’s skin. She watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, the curve of her mouth, the way her lips parted just slightly like she was about to say something but didn’t.

Their faces were inches apart. Close enough to feel the warmth between them. Close enough that Paige could see the flutter of Azzi’s lashes. 

Azzi’s hand moved, barely. Just enough to brush against Paige’s.

Paige tilted her head.

Azzi leaned in, slowly, cautiously, like she was still deciding. Her eyes dropped to Paige’s mouth. Paige’s heart was thundering so loud she was sure Azzi could feel it.

She wanted to kiss her. God, she wanted to.

And Paige wasn’t pulling back.

The space between them narrowed.

Azzi’s breath hitched. Their noses nearly touched.

But then...

Azzi flinched. It wasn’t big. Just enough to break the spell.

She blinked rapidly, sat back too fast. “I— I need air.”

Paige blinked, dazed. “Azzi?”

But Azzi was already ducking out of the booth, the curtain swinging wildly in her wake.

Paige sat there, stunned, heart still caught in her throat.

On instinct, she grabbed the strip of printed photos as it slid out of the machine, catching that last frame: Azzi leaning in, looking at paige. The moment they didn’t finish.

She shoved it into her pocket and ran after Azzi

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

Azzi stood beside the car, back turned, one hand braced against the roof like she was trying not to fall over. Her breath came quick and shallow. She hadn’t meant to run. But something in her chest had screamed not yet, not like this, not when she doesn’t know.

Paige approached quietly, photos still clenched in her hand. She didn’t say anything, just walked to the passenger side and opened the door for her again.

Azzi turned, eyes wet, expression unreadable.

Paige didn’t ask.

She didn’t press.

She just waited.

And then, without a word, she climbed into the driver's seat beside her, both of them facing forward, not touching, the silence thick between them.

The plush unicorn was still tucked under Azzi’s arm.

The photo strip burned in Paige’s pocket.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

But everything between them had.

[forkshighschooler]

Chapter 1 — The Pull

Summary:You live in La Push working part-time for your aunt. While closing at a local coffee cart, you meet Paul Lahote—a quiet, intense local who seems to watch you like he knows something you don’t. There’s an instant pull between you, but you fight it. You’re not looking for connection. Paul keeps his distance… until he can’t.

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5

La Push was quiet in the way that small towns always were—its silence not empty, but full of whispering trees, restless waves, and the hush of stories passed down from generations that had walked these paths long before you. It was the kind of place where everyone knew your name, your parents’ names, and probably how much you owed at the corner store.

You’d grown up here, a quiet part of the earth nestled between forest and sea. It was familiar, grounding. Safe.

Until now.

It started the day the air changed—just enough that you noticed. A storm was supposed to be rolling in, and the clouds hung low like bruises in the sky, but it wasn’t the weather that made your skin prickle. It was something else. Something wrong.

You had been walking home from the beach after closing up the small coffee cart your aunt let you run part-time. The waves were rough, wind chasing them in like wild dogs. You tightened your jacket and tucked your chin down, the sound of your boots crunching gravel the only thing keeping you company.

Then you saw him.

At first, it didn’t register—just someone tall and lean standing at the tree line, half in shadow, like he was a part of the woods itself. His posture was too still, arms crossed over his broad chest, head tilted slightly like he was listening for something. Watching.

Your pace slowed before your brain caught up to your body. You told yourself it was just someone out for a walk, probably one of the guys from the rez. But there was something about him—about the way the air seemed to warp around him, like he pulled gravity with him. You tried not to stare.

He turned his head.

Even at a distance, your eyes locked. And you felt it—something hot, sharp, and uninvited flaring beneath your ribs. Your breath caught, your stomach flipped, and for a split second, it felt like your entire body went still in response to his gaze.

The moment shattered as he stepped forward—just one step.

You bolted.

You didn’t know why. There was no logical reason. He hadn’t moved aggressively. He hadn’t said a word. But every instinct in you screamed run, and your legs obeyed. You didn’t stop until you were back home, the door locked behind you and your back pressed to the cool wood.

Your heart pounded like a warning drum in your chest.

You didn’t tell anyone about him—not your aunt, not your best friend Katie, who would have teased you relentlessly for being so dramatic. It felt… too strange. Too intimate.

Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You didn’t even know his name.

⸻

The next day, the feeling lingered.

You kept expecting to see him around town. You looked for him out of the corner of your eye when you passed the general store, when you sat on the back porch with your coffee, even when you walked to the bonfire later that night with Katie.

She was rambling about some drama involving Jared and Kim, but her voice felt like background noise against the roar of your thoughts. You didn’t hear most of what she said until she elbowed you.

“Are you even listening?” she laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve been weird all day.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Sure,” she said, clearly not buying it. Then she perked up. “Oh! Paul’s back.”

“Paul?”

She nodded toward the edge of the firelight. You turned.

There he was.

The guy from the woods.

Standing in the golden flicker of the firelight, his skin glowing warm, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. He looked… intense. Like someone barely holding it together. Your breath caught again, and this time you knew it wasn’t just the heat from the flames.

“That’s Paul Lahote,” Katie whispered. “He’s a total dick, but—uh, yeah. Okay, you’re looking at him like he’s an entire meal, so I’m gonna walk away before I witness something unholy.”

“I’m not,” you snapped too quickly. “I just—he looks familiar.”

Katie raised an eyebrow, gave a knowing smirk, and disappeared into the crowd.

Paul’s eyes found yours.

Your heart stumbled.

There was something wrong with this. You didn’t even know him, but you felt like your body did. Like some part of you recognized him without your permission.

You turned your head, but it was too late—he was already walking toward you.

⸻

“Hey.”

His voice was low, rough like gravel but steady. He stood close enough that you had to tilt your head back slightly to look up at him. You stepped back automatically.

He frowned. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I didn’t say you would.”

“You’re afraid of me.”

You bristled. “I don’t even know you.”

He paused like that answer had hit a nerve. His expression shifted, some wall sliding up behind his eyes.

“You will,” he said, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.

You stared at him, arms crossed. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“No,” he said. Then added, “It’s a promise.”

Your stomach twisted. Something about this was all wrong. Too much. Too fast. You stepped back again.

“I have to go.”

“You don’t even want to know my name?”

“No.”

He didn’t move to follow you, but you could feel him watching as you walked away, pulse pounding so hard your ears rang.

⸻

That night, you dreamt of eyes the color of storms and something wild running through the trees.

You woke with your heart in your throat.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

[pitlanepeach]

FROM EDEN | Chapter One (1/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Summary — Francesca Gold is an introvert with a quiet life and a YouTube channel where she talks about books, drinks too much tea, and rarely ever shows her face. She prefers it that way - tucked into her London flat with her cat, Henry, and safely hidden behind a screen.

Oscar Piastri is a Formula 1 driver. Fast-paced, high-stakes, always on the move. He hasn't read a book in years, but he's watched every single one of Francesca's videos. Just for the sound of her voice.

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings - Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety, depressive episodes + very brief references to skin-picking.

Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY OSCAR 🧡

Sometimes, Francesca felt like her MacBook was an extension of her body.

It came with the territory. She spent six, sometimes eight, hours a day editing. Her management had offered to hire a professional to take over that side of things, but she always declined. She liked the process. It kept her busy. And besides, her audience had come to expect her touch — the specific pacing, the way she layered her clips with the perfect font depending on the theme of the video. No professional could replicate that.

“The team at Penguin emailed last night. They want you to do another collab next month — summer drop. It’s going to be huge,” Katie says, without preamble, the moment Francesca answers the FaceTime. Manager, best friend, chaos in a messy bun. 

Francesca blinks, gives herself a second to process, then beams. “Wait, seriously? I mean, I know they had great feedback on the last video, but I just thought…” She trails off, shaking her head and letting out a breathy laugh. 

God, it was still hard to believe this was her life. That she’d built this job from scratch — and was actually good at it. Good enough that one of the biggest publishing companies in the world wanted to work with her again, for the second time in less than a year.

“It’s going to be great. I’ll email you the content brief as soon as I have it,” Katie said. She was smiling too, the fine lines around her eyes deepening with joy.

Francesca often thought that was the best part of having a manager who doubled as your best friend — the fact that when something good happened, it wasn’t just her win. It was theirs.

“Pizza at my place to celebrate?” Francesca suggested on a whim, and immediately wished she could take it back. Her spine went rigid, and a glance toward the front door confirmed what she already knew — she wasn’t in the right headspace for company. Not even Katie, who was one of the only guests she’d ever had at her flat. “Uh, I mean…” She felt her face burn with embarrassment as she tried to find a way to rescind her invitation. 

“I’m busy tonight,” Katie said breezily, and relief washed over Francesca like a wave. She managed a small smile. “Another night, maybe,” Katie added, her eyes warm and knowing. The softness in her voice made Francesca’s throat tighten.

She was a terrible friend.

“Yeah,” she said softly, and wished — not for the first time — that her brain would just let her be normal.

Just once, it would be nice to exist without wrapping herself in cotton wool, constantly calculating every choice, afraid of pushing too far and tipping into that place she didn’t like to think about. The edge was always there, waiting. And when she fell, it was dark. 

“Another time,” she finished, quieter this time.

Katie hummed, then did a dramatic spin in her chair.

Francesca had already figured out she was in her office. It was painted bubblegum pink — hard to mistake for anywhere else.

One day, Francesca would have an office too. She already had a Pinterest board full of inspiration pictures.

For now, her flat was too small — a one-bedroom with just enough space for a two-seater table in the kitchen and a small couch tucked beneath the living room window.

But one day, she'd have more.

The walls would be lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. She’d have a big desk, maybe even a chaise lounge to film her videos from — soft lighting, stacks of novels within reach.

Her gaze drifted to the window. Her sixth floor flat overlooked a busy street, which was both comforting and overwhelming. She liked the reminders of life happening outside. But sometimes, the idea of stepping into it — of opening the door and being swallowed by the noise — made her feel physically sick. 

“So,” Katie said, her voice deceptively flat. “Read anything good recently?”

It wasn’t funny.

It wasn’t even a little bit funny.

But whatever tension had been lingering between them dissolved in an instant.

One blank look from Francesca was all it took for Katie to double over with laughter — and Francesca followed close behind.

—

Oscar Piastri followed you!

Francesca stared at her Instagram notifications and blinked. She only ever got alerts like that when someone verified followed her, and it always felt a little disconcerting. Being perceived was... weird.

She tapped on his profile picture, waited for the feed to load, then let out a quiet, shocked breath as her eyes widened.

Christ. Almost two million followers.

She read his bio first.

I drive @McLaren F1 cars.

Her brows pulled together.

She knew about Formula One. Her sister — back when they still spoke — had been a hardcore fan. Always waking up at absurd hours on Sundays to watch the races. Francesca had never understood the appeal. She wasn’t ever interested in sports, really.

And if she was remembering right… the cars were bloody loud.

Nonetheless, she let herself scroll through his feed, indulging the curiosity. Why not? He’d followed her first.

Which… she paused, thumb hovering over a video — a clip of him laughing with another guy, shorter, with dark hair, both of them doubled over and grinning wide.

Why had he followed her?

Was he a reader?

She chewed her bottom lip, eyes flicking back to his feed. Nothing about books. Nothing even vaguely literary. Just cars. Fast ones. The kind that had made her cover her ears and wince when her sister had played it on the TV. 

Still, she kept scrolling.

There were podium photos, clips from press days, shots of cars mid-race that made her anxious just looking at them. A lot of orange. And still, nothing that explained why he would have any interest in the kind of content she posted.

Before she could stop herself, she opened a new tab and typed his name into Google.

Oscar Piastri F1.

Search.

The first result was his Wikipedia page. She clicked it, scanning quickly.

Twenty-two. Australian. Drove for McLaren. Something about back-to-back Formula 2 and Formula 3 championships. ‘I understand that, without my agreement, Alpine F1 have put out a press release late this afternoon that I am driving for them next year. This is wrong and I have not signed a contract with Alpine for 2023. I will not be driving for Alpine next year.’ Her brain started buffering around "qualifying sessions" and "downforce," so she backed out and clicked Images instead.

Okay. He was… very symmetrical.

She immediately closed the tab, her cheeks flaming red.

And then she opened it again. This time, she searched Oscar Piastri book. Nothing. Oscar Piastri reading. Still nothing. Oscar Piastri favourite books.

No real results. Just an old fan forum thread with a blurry screenshot of him holding what looked like a paperback on a plane. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen. Could’ve been anything.

‘F3 champion and high school student lmao,’ one of the comments read.

Francesca let herself sink back into the couch. She pulled her knees to her chest, her free hand drifting up to her mouth, picking absently at the skin around her fingernail.

“How did you end up here, Oscar Piastri?” she whispered.

And then immediately felt ridiculous.

It’s not like a follow meant anything.

It could’ve been a slip of the finger. Maybe something his management team did to stir engagement. A glitch. Instagram glitched all the time. That was a known thing.

It really was.

Still curled up on the couch, Francesca tapped back into Instagram and navigated to the official Formula One account. Just to look. Just to see if maybe there was something that explained why a McLaren driver might follow a booktuber with anxiety and a penchant for editing videos until 2am.

There wasn’t.

But there was a countdown at the top of the page.

Qualifying. One hour to go.

Qualifying? What was that? Like… sports pre-game? Car auditions?

She frowned. Then, before she could think twice, she picked up the remote and opened the app store on her TV. A few clicks later, she was signing up for a Sky Sports subscription.

“For research,” she told Henry, who lazily stared at her from his spot on the armrest like he was judging her life choices. 

“I’m just… curious, okay?” she added, navigating to the F1 channel.

Henry yawned, unimpressed and unentertained.

Francesca pulled her quilt blanket around her shoulders and settled in, one hand on her mug of tea, the other resting lightly on Henry’s back. The TV buzzed to life with dramatic music and fast edits of cars screaming around tracks.

“Oh, they really are loud,” she muttered.

Still, she didn’t change the channel.

The coverage had barely started before the noise hit her full-force — engines growling, tires screeching, the low thrum of commentary that barely kept up with the chaos on screen.

Francesca grimaced. She didn’t like it. Too loud, too fast, too… much.

Henry flinched at a particularly aggressive rev, then resumed kneading the arm of the sofa like he was above letting it actually concerned him.

Cars whipped around corners at impossible speeds, camera angles switching every few seconds. She couldn’t follow any of it. Couldn’t understand the appeal. It made her anxious, frankly — a blur of noise and danger and people cheering for machines hurtling toward potential disaster.

And then one of them did crash.

Right into the barrier.

Metal crumpled. The commentators’ voices jumped a pitch. The screen showed a flurry of slow-motion replays, sparks flying.

Her hand flew to the remote. She didn’t want to see this. She was about to switch off.

But then, like it had been summoned just for her, a name appeared at the bottom of the screen.

Oscar Piastri — overlayed over the image of a sleek orange car pulling into the pit lane.

She froze, her heart jumping in her throat.

The camera cut to him stepping out of the car. Calm. Focused. Tugging off his helmet to reveal slightly flattened curls and flushed cheeks. The camera lingered for a second too long — or maybe not long enough — before cutting away.

Francesca didn’t move.

She didn’t even blink.

“Oh no,” she whispered, sinking slightly lower into the couch. “Absolutely not.”

Henry purred beside her. 

— 

iMessage – Francesca & Katie

Katie: How’s your evening? Still editing?

Francesca: yep super busy so much to do

Katie: Why are you being weird

Francesca: 😶

Katie: Wait What did you do

Francesca: nothing?? literally nothing.

Katie: Francesca.

Francesca: okay fine i may have accidentally subscribed to sky sports

Katie: YOU WHAT

Francesca: DON’T it was just for a second. i wanted to see what “qualifying” meant.

Katie: Omg Omg Did you watch it? YOU WATCHED IT DIDN’T YOU

Francesca: it was research.

Katie: Research for what???

Francesca: i think i might want get my drivers liscence soon. 

Katie: HAHA BULLSHIT definitely not because a certain driver literally just followed you on instagram or anything

Francesca: shut up maybe

Katie: Fran.

Francesca: i didn’t like it i almost turned it off. but then his name came up and i just… idk. i kept watching.

Katie: Omg my baby has a crush

Francesca: shut up no ew

Katie: Right Why did you google “Oscar Piastri favourite book” at 8:07pm

Francesca: STOP STALKING MY BROWSER HISTORY GET UR OWN GOOGLE ACCOUNT 

Katie: Nah 

—

The Sky Sports app was still open on her TV.

Francesca hadn’t meant to leave it there. It just... stayed. Like the universe was silently daring her to press play again. 

She’d lost herself to editing again — that blissful, numbing kind where hours passed unnoticed, her fingers tapping out precise cuts, adjusting audio, overlaying soft transitions like muscle memory. The world outside her screen had faded away, quiet and far off.

But now… now her video was exported, her desk light dim, the flat heavy with stillness.

And she couldn’t resist.

She clicked on Post-Qualifying Interviews, telling herself it was just to see what the drivers sounded like. That was all. She was just curious. Nothing more.

She turned the volume down to a whisper.

Henry flicked his tail in visible disapproval.

“I’m not proud of this either,” she whispered, settling into the couch like she was committing a crime. The blanket came up to her chin. The remote was gripped in her hand. 

The first few drivers were all very… race-driver-y. Confident. Loud. Slightly sweaty. Lots of hand gestures and scathing words for their own performances. 

And then Oscar appeared.

The interviewer asked him something technical — tires, or grip, or some other concept that meant absolutely nothing to her — and he responded with this measured, thoughtful calm. No bravado. No shouting. Just… collected.

Francesca tilted her head, studying the way his brow creased slightly as he answered, like he really cared about getting it right. The way he smiled softly at the end of his sentence, almost to himself, like a punctuation mark no one else noticed.

She didn’t even realise she was smiling too until Henry let out a judgmental meow.

“I said I’m not proud,” she muttered, hastily backing out of the video.

The silence that followed was immediate and deafening.

She tossed the remote aside and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled into her palms. “I need to go to bed. I need to stop acting like an actual crazy person.”

Henry pawed at her ankle, unimpressed.

She was going to delete the Sky Sports app first thing in the morning. 

Right after she watched one more video.

Maybe two.

—

Francesca watched the Grand Prix the next day.

She made tea. She stayed in her pyjamas. She sat through the whole thing, even when it dragged and even when the commentators said things she didn’t understand. It wasn’t thrilling. It wasn’t magical. It just… was.

Oscar finished somewhere in the middle.

She turned the TV off, went to take a shower, and moved on with her life.

There were deadlines to meet. Emails to respond to. A pile of unread books that had started to stare at her like she’d betrayed them. Her expensive Sky Sports subscription went untouched the rest of the week. 

But then Tuesday came.

And Tuesday was awful.

There was no real reason. No one thing she could point to and say that’s what broke me. It just felt like everything was a little too loud, her own skin too heavy. Like gravity had turned up a notch and was dragging her down with it.

She didn’t get out of bed.

Didn’t open her laptop.

Didn’t answer Katie’s texts — not even the one with a cat meme she would normally have replied to in all-caps.

Henry crawled into her lap around midday and stayed there, curled against her like a warm, quiet anchor. She lay still, wrapped in blankets, blinking up at the ceiling like it might give her answers.

Nothing did.

It was the kind of day where time slowed and thoughts didn’t. Where brushing her teeth felt like running a marathon. Where everything felt stuck.

She picked up her phone out of habit, already ready to put it back down again.

But then — the notification.

@oscarpiastri liked your post. Her latest one. A photo dump from less than two hours ago — mostly books, a coffee mug, her hand in the sunlight.

Her heart stuttered.

Not in a dramatic, fireworks-going-off kind of way. Just a small, stunned skip.

She stared at the notification like it might vanish.

Henry shifted slightly in her lap. She didn’t move.

It was such a small thing.

A double-tap.

A gesture.

But in the middle of a day where just existing felt impossible, someone — he — had seen her.

Even if it didn’t mean anything.

Even if it was random.

Even if he probably liked a hundred photos that day.

She let out a long, shaky breath and rested her phone on her chest, her hand curled loosely around it.

"Okay," she whispered to no one.

Maybe she could get up later.

Not now. But maybe later.

—

The MTC was buzzing, even though it was only a Tuesday. Debrief done. Media duties had been wrapped earlier in the morning. Everything had settled into that post-Grand Prix lull where everyone finally took a breath until the next weekend came around.

Oscar leaned back against the side of a worktable, scrolling idly through Instagram. Nothing serious. Just background noise.

Until he saw that she’d posted. 

Francesca Gold.

He hadn’t meant to follow her, not really. It had been a 2am spiral the night before quali day — his sister had sent him a TikTok of somebody talking about a F1 themed romance novel, which had ultimately led him to her channel, which led to hours watching her recommend fantasy novels with painfully sincere enthusiasm.

It was just a photo dump. Books. Sunlight. Her cat, maybe — very ginger and grumpy looking. He didn’t overthink it.

He double-tapped the photo, thumb pausing just slightly over the screen.

She rarely posted pictures of her full-face. Never showed it in any of her videos. But he knew that she was pretty. Gorgeous, even. 

A grin tugged at his mouth before he could stop it.

“What’s that face?”

Oscar glanced up.

Lando was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, looking far too smug for someone who had just received a stern telling-off for his comments to the press after his bang-average race performance. 

Oscar blanched. “What face?”

“The one I just saw.” Lando pointed. “The ‘I’ve got a secret’ smile. You were two seconds away from giggling.”

“I don’t giggle.” He argued. 

“Mate.” Lando deadpanned. “Come on. Spill.” 

Oscar locked the screen and slipped the phone into his pocket, casual. “It’s nothing.”

Lando raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Nothing’s usually something.”

Oscar didn’t answer.

Lando stepped closer, all mock seriousness now. “Is it a girl?”

Oscar gave him a long, slow look. “You’re very nosy.”

“That’s not a no.”

He looked away without meaning to. 

“Oh my God, it is a girl. Who is she? Wait—” He snapped his fingers. “I saw something on twitter about you following some… I don’t know what they call them. She reads books.” He said. 

Oscar exhaled through his nose, resigned. “She posted on Instagram. I liked it. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm. And now you’re smiling like a man with secrets.”

Oscar didn’t answer, just tugged the zipper of his hoodie down a little and pushed off the table.

“You’re going to message her, aren’t you?” Lando called after him, voice teasing.

“I’m going to find food,” Oscar said over his shoulder. “Stop projecting, Norris.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He ignored it until he’d found a quiet, empty spot to sit. 

And then he opened her page again. Let himself look properly this time. The soft light coming from the window. The cat. The books. The half-face showing in the last photo; all dark hair and hazel eyes. 

He smiled again.

And this time, no one saw.

—

iMessage – Francesca & Katie

Katie: Hey. Please stay away from Twitter for a bit 

Francesca: uh oh why what happened have i been cancelled for not liking the new sjm book? lol 

Katie: Nothing major. Just… people noticed something. Some tweets about you and oscar 🤦‍♀️ They’re being annoying. That’s all.

Francesca: … there literally is no ‘me and oscar’ katie. what kind of annoying?

Katie: The “who even is she” kind And the “typical influencer girl” stuff Ignore them. They’re bored and jealous.

Francesca: typical influencer girl. oh my god i’m going to dissolve into the floor now don’t mind me. just fully evaporating

Katie: You are literally FINE You didn’t do anything. He followed you. He liked your post. 

FRANCESCA i didn’t even follow him back 😭😭😭 would that make it worse? i might just do it 

KATIE Lmao. You don’t have to do anything. Your account, your space, your joy. You’re allowed to post a picture of your cat, ffs

Francesca: henry is a public figure. 

Katie: LMAO Okay yeah that’s true

Francesca: god i hate being perceived. i feel gross. like i did something wrong.

Katie: You didn’t. I promise. People will forget about this in like 48 hours. Faster if you don’t engage. Also: do not google yourself. Do not check the quote tweets. Seriously. Step away. People are being disgusting. Talking about your mental health. 

Francesca: oh my god they hit the pentagon

Katie: STOP. You’re ridiculous. Don’t make me laugh right now. I’m angry. Go cuddle the public figure Tomorrow, we pretend that this never happened.

Francesca: … okay. but if i die of embarrassment, pls delete my browser history

Katie: Of course. 

—

It had been two weeks since she’d worked up the courage to leave her flat.

In that time, she’d dived head-first into the history of Formula One.

She’d developed an emotional attachment to Nico Rosberg.

And every time she saw Oscar’s face or heard his voice, her stomach did this weird little twist she tried very hard to ignore.

She still hadn’t worked up the nerve to follow him back.

Twitter had moved on after a few days. The comments had been vicious — picking apart the parts of her mental health issues that she’d made public, calling her a terrible match for the Australian driver (capital letters, like that somehow made it worse). It was mean, sure, but also probably laced with some truth.

It was laughable. She knew what a WAG was now. And she could literally never.

Cameras, fashion critiques, every movement scrutinised. There was a reason she didn’t plaster her face all over the internet. Sure, most people had pieced together what she looked like by now — it wasn’t some big scandelous secret — but she could still walk through London relatively unnoticed, on the very rare occasion that she did.

And that was how she liked it.

—

Oscar made it onto the podium in Japan.

Francesca had watched the race live, heart hammering against her ribs like it was her out there driving. Henry had abandoned her half an hour in — bored or annoyed or both — but she’d stayed curled up on the couch, eyes fixed on the screen, half-hidden behind her quilt. 

When he crossed the line in third, she let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-overwhelmed-sob.

She was proud of him. Which was ridiculous, really. She didn’t know him. He was nobody to her. But still — she'd watched, taught herself the rules, learned the names of the tracks, made a list of all of the weird acronyms, and somewhere between doing all of those things, she’d started cheering for him like it mattered.

She opened the Instagram app before she could talk herself out of it.

Went to his profile.

Paused.

Her thumb hovered over the message icon, heart beating too fast, palms clammy.

What would she even say?

Well done? I was cheering for you from my couch. 

No. God, no.

He had millions of followers. He probably got hundreds of thousands of messages. Messages from people he actually knew. From people who weren’t... whatever she was.

She hadn’t followed him back. That felt important. It made her invisible. Safe. Unknown.

And still, the urge to say something curled up inside her, warm and nervous. She wanted him to know. Just a little. That she’d seen it. That she was proud of him.

Her thumbs started to type, slowly, hesitantly:

Congratulations. You were incredible today. I’ve been cheering for you. 

She stared at the words.

Then deleted the message.

Then retyped it.

Eventually, she shook her head, hastily swiped out of the Instagram app, locked her phone and let it slide to the other end of the couch.

She buried her face in Henry’s fur, blinking fast.

Maybe next time.

—

bookishgoldie just posted!

liked by oscarpiastri, stephbroher, and 35,768 others

bookishgoldie: enjoying the london sunshine ☀️

view all comments

user1: KING HENRY SIGHTING

user17: i love that cat like he's my own omg

user03: it’s officially spring!!!!!

user63: OSCAR IN HER LIKES AGAIN OH MY GOD

user17: FRANCESCA HIDE BEHIND ME BABYGIRL I WONT LET THE TWITTER DEMONS GET YOU AGAIN 🤺

user60: this is crazy... do u think they're like friends or

user76: no idea. she's so pretty though.

user5: do we even know if oscar pastry is literate? genuine question.

user33: i LOVE your apartment!!!!!!!!!!!

bookishgoldie: i do too!! thank you

user18: my favourite booktuber ever

user2: I’ve been here since the beginning and it’s crazy to me that she’s basically a household name now.

Chapter Two

[scribblesofagoonerr]

fight or flight | chaos fc

summary: the flight back home to london isn't as simple as it should be

pairings: monkey!reader x katie mccabe | monkey!reader x alessia russo | monkey!reader x kim little | monkey!reader x arsenal wfc

chaos fc masterlist

“I swear this is the quietest I’ve ever seen your kid,” Vic Pelova teased, smirking as she watched you plonk yourself onto Katie’s lap in the airport lounge. Katie absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair from your face, settling you more comfortably against her.

“Leave her alone,” Katie grinned, peering down at you affectionately, “She’s just missing her partner in crime, no doubt. And she’s not my kid—she’s Leah’s. I’m just on babysitting duty until we get home. Then she’s Leah’s problem again.”

Teyah snorted, “Taking it pretty hard not having her sidekick for the flight, isn’t she? I bet Leah’s buzzing to have her little menace back.”

“She’ll be alright once we board,” Katie said lightly, though she kept a protective hand on your back, just in case you decided to cause chaos at the last minute—something she wasn’t ruling out, even in your current sulky mood.

Katie wasn’t wrong, though. You were sulking. Missing your best friend hit harder than you expected.

Still, you were excited to see Leah, Buddy, and even Jordan—once you worked up the courage to apologise properly, anyway.

After a fun few days playing against the A-League team in Australia—and winning—the team was finally heading home. Unfortunately, with the international break coming up, your best friend and the other Aussies had to stay back for their camp. Which left you flying solo and feeling a little lost.

The others quickly noticed you weren’t your usual lively self.

“We’re boarding soon, Monkey,” Alessia called from where she was sitting across from you, her voice gentle, “You alright?”

You weren’t much in the mood to talk. Sitting between Katie and Alesia felt safest—they wouldn’t force you to chat.

“Mhm,” You mumbled, burying your face in Katie’s neck, hoodie pulled low over your head.

Your short response only deepened Alessia’s concern. She knew you well enough by now: when you went quiet, it usually meant you were sick, exhausted, or upset.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Alessia asked softly.

“M’ fine,” You mumbled again, curling tighter into Katie.

Katie exchanged a look with Alessia, then gently shifted your hood back to check on you, “Yer alright, little lady?” She asked, her voice warm.

“M’ just tired,” You admitted honestly. Your eyes stung with exhaustion—your own fault, staying up half the night scrolling TikTok.

Katie laughed under her breath, “That’s what yer get for pulling an all-nighter on TikTok.”

You lifted your head slightly, frowning, “How’d you know?”

“Well, maybe next time don’t send half of those videos to the group chat at 3AM,” Alessia teased, shaking her head.

“At least you can sleep on the plane, hey?” Katie added, ruffling your hair fondly.

You groaned, realising the evidence of your terrible decisions had caught up with you, “Urgh. I’m not in the mood for one of Malfoy’s lectures when we land.”

Katie choked on a laugh, “Malfoy?!”

“I’ve given my Mum a new nickname,” You mumbled, half-asleep, “Because of her god-awful haircut.”

Alessia bit back a giggle, “Oh, Monkey… she’s definitely going to hear about that.”

“Funny though, innit?” You said, biting back a yawn, “Now can you two be quiet? I wanna sleep.”

“Charming,” Katie said, patting your back, “Let’s just try and stay awake until we board, alright? I’m not getting in the habit of carrying yer everywhere.”

“No promises,” You whispered, already drifting.

You barely noticed the airport buzzing around you, your head tucked against Katie’s shoulder, trying not to nod off. Boarding was soon, but your eyelids were already drooping and your energy had zapped after a long few days.

You might have properly dozed off right there if not for a small cough nearby.

You blinked blearily, lifting your head slightly to find Kim standing awkwardly in front of you, a familiar green-and-yellow Shrek activity pack clutched in her hands.

“Hey, Monkey,” Kim said gently, offering the pack towards you, “Thought you might wanna colour a bit while we wait. Just… something to keep you busy.”

You hesitated, glancing between her and Katie, unsure whether this was some weird trick. You hadn’t exactly been on good terms with Kim lately—not after she shouted at you—but there was something genuine in her awkward smile.

Katie gave you a little nudge, keeping her voice low, “Go on, little lady. Look, it’s Shrek. That’s cool, right?”

Slowly, you reached out and took the colouring pack from Kim’s hands, your fingers brushing the plastic, “T… Thank you,” You whispered without really looking up.

Kim’s face softened as she crouched down briefly to your level, her voice remaining quiet, “I know we’ve not been…. I know I shouted at you, Monkey, and I never should’ve done that. I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”

You blinked at her, a little too tired to process properly, but the words landed somewhere warm in your chest. You gave a tiny nod.

Kim smiled and straightened back up, ruffling your hair quickly before retreating back to her original seat.

“Look, it’s Shrek!” You murmured half asleep, tugging open the plastic wrapper clumsily.

“Yeah, it is,” Katie chuckled, helping you peel it properly when you got frustrated with the sticky edge, “And look, little lady, there are even stickers in this one as well, and a mask as well,” She noted, pulling everything out and settling them on the chair between you.

You tugged out a page with a huge Shrek on it and slumped even further into Katie’s side, “I need the green,” You declared, waiting for Katie to hand you the green as your little tongue poked out in concentration as you started colouring.

“I’m sure this will help yer stay awake, eh?” Katie teased after a few minutes, handing you the correct colours without even needing to ask.

“Mhm,” You hummed, though your head had already started drooping again.

Katie leaned down to peek at your work—and found the green crayon loose in your hand, your head tipped softly against her arm.

Completely out cold.

“Looks like you’re going to have to carry her onto the plane after all,” Alessia teased, watching the scene fondly, “You’re a softie.”

Katie bit back an amused laugh and gently prised the crayons from your fingers before they had a chance to drop to the floor, “Seems that way now, don’t it?” She mumbled, tucking your hoodie higher around you and letting you curl in properly against her, “Kids’ a little menace, but I’ll do anything for my niece.”

“What are you watching there, Monkey?” Teyah peered over to glance over your shoulder and see you watching a movie on your iPad while still leaning against Katie, “Ooo, Shrek… Again. Good shout that is!”

“She’s watching Shrek again?” Vic laughed, “Honestly, that film’s the only thing that ever shuts her up.”

“Unless she’s asleep,” Kim chimed in, sitting across from you—you were still yet to properly speak to her, but you knew that you would have to do it soon enough, and she’d been kind enough to give you a Shrek activity pack, “Or she’s sick.”

Katie snorted in amusement, “Kimmy’s right there. I’m just thinking back to the beginning of last season when she still insisted on playing whilst ill, because she was too stubborn to admit being sick.”

You could hear every single word that was being said, more than aware they were on about you, but you were currently more invested in Shrek to even care about it.

“But she’s too quiet, though. It’s not normal,” Teyah chimed in, hesitantly, “Are we sure that she’s secretly not plotting something against us?”

Vic shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not sure.”

“Leave her be, Teyah,” Kim piped in, even she could tell you were peaceful, and the last thing any of them needed was you on a rampage again, “She’s fine, she’s just watching her film.”

“Yer know, she’s only like this ‘cause she doesn’t have her trusty sidekick by her side,” Katie told them, “Leave her alone, will yer?”

Vic snickered in amusement, “You have to admit that you’ve never seen her look so depressed, though, right?”

The flight to Dubai had been going okay—not perfect, not peaceful, but manageable—right up until someone dared to talk over your viewing of Shrek.

You had your headphones on, curled up in your seat with your custom-made Arsenal canon Chewie around your neck while your thumb rested in your mouth absentmindedly when you weren’t using it to angrily stab the screen to rewind Donkey’s entrance.

Life was fine.

Until someone two rows back started laughing too loudly at something not-Shrek-related, and one of the older players kicked the back of your seat.

You ripped off your headphones dramatically, eyes wide with rage, “SHUT UP, YOU DUMB FUCKIN’ IDIOTS! I’M TRYING TO WATCH SHREK!”

Everyone turned.

“Jesus Christ,” Alessia muttered, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, great,” Cloe said, deadpan, “Now look what you’ve done.”

Katie, who had just started to doze off beside you, sat bolt upright, “Oi! Language, yer little menace!”

You were on your feet instantly, ready to launch yourself over the seat like you were about to fight for Lord Farquaad’s honour.

“She touched my seat! She touched it! I’m gonna—!”

Katie caught you around the middle mid-lunge, “Absolutely not. Sit yer wee arse down.”

“No! I wanna finish Shrek in PEACE!”

Your words were slurred with tiredness, your thumb had found its way back into your mouth as you tried to wrestle away from Katie’s grip, eyes fierce but welling up with tired tears.

Your limbs were spaghetti—angry, but floppy as Katie held you like a squirming toddler.

Kim sat on the opposite side of the plane, pinched her nose and muttered to herself, “I know it was too good to be true,” She thought to herself, “Just ignore them, Monkey. Don’t rise above them!”

“Y… Yeah, I am!” You weren’t sure exactly how to respond to Kim, considering this was the first proper interaction that you had with her since the fall-out, “It’s just… It’s hard.”

“Right, that’s enough. Sit down, and no more shouting. And no more hands, alright? We have to use nice words and nice hands,” Katie told you in a firm tone of voice.

“I don’t care! They’re pickin’ on me!” You whined, attempting to make a break for it, to give them a piece of your mind.

“Monkey, sit down!” Katie wasn’t budging to let you move, and her tone made you freeze.

You didn’t like being told off. It was horrible, especially since it was Katie. You didn’t want that.

“You’re a meanie!” You shouted, and instead of sitting down, you shuffled away and plonked yourself beside Kim a few rows down with a dramatic sniff.

“Hello, wee one,” Kim hesitantly smiled at you, not too sure how to be, considering everything that had happened.

“Auntie Katie told me off,” You mumbled, glancing across and scowling at Katie, “She’s a meanie. I don’t like her anymore!”

Kim struggled to stifle her laugh, “You don’t mean that, though, do you?”

“... Yes,” You agreed, sulkingly.

“Really?” Kim questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.

You huffed, slumping down further in your seat, “... Okay, maybe not, but she’s still a meanie, and told me off!”

“She only did that because you were trying to lunge at Teyah and Vic, and you can’t be doing things like that, Monkey. Can you?” Kim reprimanded you.

“They deserved it,” You mumbled, scowling at the two girls sitting opposite.

“Monkey,” Kim gave that knowing look.

“They did!” You whined.

Back on the other side of the plane, Katie had taken it upon herself to smack Teyah and Vic both upside the head.

“Ow,” Teyah winced, rubbing the sore spot, “What was that for?” 

 “Can’t yer pair just leave her be? She was fine until yer started windin’ her up!” Katie stated through gritted teeth, “You two are old enough to know better!”

“Monkey is the same age as Teyah, remember,” Vic added.

“What?” That caught Emily’s attention as she looked bewildered, “Are you sure? No way. The way she behaves sometimes says something different.”

“She has a point there,” Frida piped in.

“... She’s just had some challenges in life,” Katie mumbled, glancing over at you, knowing you heard what had been said, “There’s nothing wrong with her! Nothing at all!”

You had exactly heard what had been said. You proceeded to take your thumb out of your mouth, and your chewie from around your neck, and launch it across the plane.

“Hey, hey,” Kim quickly scrambled to pick up the disregarded item off the floor, “Just ignore them, Monkey. You’re perfect the way that you already are, alright?”

“Remember to use gentle hands, Monkey,” One of the younger girls took the opportunity to tease you, snickering.

“And don’t use unkind words,” Another chimed in.

“Fuck off!” You turned, glaring darkly at them, “I’m not a stupid baby!”

Alessia straightaway heard your colourful response, “Oi! Less of the language— Monkey! Where are you goin’? Come back here!”

You bolted and found yourself in the toilet of the plane, locking the door behind you. A tiny compacted space as you shrank down against the door of it, “M’ not a baby,” You murmured to yourself.

And then the turbulence started.

At first, it was just a rumble. Then the plane jolted hard, and you panicked.

Kim had just settled back into her seat with your disregarded chewie in one hand and a sinking feeling in her chest when the captain’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re experiencing a patch of turbulence. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. Cabin crew, take your seats.”

The plane gave another sharp jolt, the overhead bins rattling, and a collective murmur of discomfort rippled through the cabin.

Kim’s brow furrowed. She turned to glance behind her—to where you’d last been sitting.

“Where’s Monkey?” Kim asked aloud, her voice tight with concern.

Katie, already on the edge, snapped her head up, “What do yer mean where’s Monkey? She was with you—”

“She legged it when that lot started again,” Alessia chimed in, now glancing anxiously down the aisle, “Threw her chewie, swore at someone, and bolted.”

“Fuck,” Katie shot up from her seat, ignoring the seatbelt sign as she turned to start pacing the aisle, “Monkey?” She called lowly, trying not to cause panic but feeling it start to rise in her chest.

“She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t go far, right?” Kim tried to reassure herself more than anyone else, “The plane is small. There’s nowhere to go.”

“Monkey?” Katie’s voice got louder, more urgent as she checked row after row, “Come out now. This isn’t funny—”

And then she heard a blood-curdling scream, and her eyes bulged in panic.

“Logan!” Katie exclaimed, already hurrying down the narrow aisle and hammering her fist quickly on the toilet door, “Monkey? Open up. I know yer scared, and I’m here. Just open the door!”

Inside the toilet, you were curled into the tiniest ball you could manage, knees tucked to your chest and forehead pressed to the metal door as hot tears ran down your cheeks.

You couldn’t breathe properly.

You didn’t want to breathe properly.

You weren’t a baby, but you felt like one.

Your ears were ringing, and every time the plane dipped or jolted, you whimpered and clutched tighter at your sleeves.

The bathroom felt too small, too loud, too bright despite the flickering overhead light. Every jolt of the plane sent another stab of panic through your chest, like a drumbeat that you couldn’t drown out.

Your heart was racing so fast it felt like it might just stop. You’d meant to hide for a minute—just a minute. But now you couldn’t move. Couldn’t think past the storm in your head.

You could still hear them. Laughing. Whispering. Calling you names, they thought you wouldn’t hear.

“She’s too old to be like that.”

“She shouldn’t be allowed on the trip if she can’t behave.”

“It’s like travelling with a toddler.”

You pressed your hands over your ears harder.

You weren’t a baby.

But you’d chucked your chewie at the floor and run like one, hadn’t you? Bolted down the aisle, swearing and panicking.

And now your chest ached, and your thoughts were spiralling so fast you couldn’t keep up. The only way to make it stop—just a little—was to do something.

So you pinched your arms. Hard. Until the sting cut through the panic. Until little red welts formed and your breath caught again.

It wasn’t enough.

You banged your forehead against your knees. Once. Then again.

Not to hurt, not really. Just to feel. To drown out the noise with something you could control.

The plane gave another heavy drop, and you screamed without meaning to, your voice ripping through the tiny space before you slapped your hands back over your mouth.

But your arms—your arms were tingling, the skin angry and blotched where your nails had dug in.

And something else—shame—tumbled low in your belly as you realised with a jolt that you’d wet yourself without even noticing.

The seat of your joggers was damp and uncomfortable, and suddenly it was too much. Too much noise, too much 

Then—knocking. Urgent. Familiar. Katie.

“Monkey? Open up. I know yer scared, and I’m here. Just open the door!” Katie’s voice cracked through the spiral, tugging at something deep and small inside you.

But you couldn’t.

You were too ashamed, too small, too broken.

“No, I’m not,” You choked out, your voice hoarse and shaking, “I don’t wanna be here—s’ too loud—s’ moving—’m not a baby—stop saying I’m a baby—!”

There was a pause, the kind that made your chest clench with guilt.

And then—

“No one thinks that, Monkey. They’re just bein’ silly. Yer not a baby, yer our girl, alright? Just open the door, lemme help yer calm down, yeah?”

“She said I acted like a baby!” You sobbed, hitting the door weakly with the flat of your hand, “Everyone laughs, they laugh all the time!”

It all came pouring out—days of tension, whispering comments, side-eyes on the bus, in restaurants, when Leah wasn’t there to shield you from the harsh words and looks. When you’d dropped your chewie or had an accident. When you needed rocking at night or couldn’t eat unless someone fed you.

“It’s not fair,” You whispered, “I try so hard. And they still laugh.”

There was shuffling on the other side. Then Katie’s voice, quiet but fierce, “Yer don’t need to try, little lady. Yer don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Not to me. Not to yer Ma’s. Not to anyone on this bloody flight, yer hear me, Monkey? Nobody.”

“Excuse me, miss, but you need to take a seat as we’re experiencing turbulence right now,” A member of the cabin crew interrupted.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just give me a minute, my niece is stuck in the toilet,” Katie held a sense of urgency in her voice.

“Miss—”

“Just give me a damn minute! I’m not leaving her in there!” Katie raised her voice even more, standing firm.

Then there was a brief pause.

“They don’t see yer like I do. Like me, your Mum, yer Mama, and the rest of yer family do. They… They don’t know what yer have been through,” Katie’s thick voice broke the storm clouding inside of your head, “Yer one of the strongest people I know, Monkey. Yer just keep on goin’. Even when it’s scary. Even when yer wanna run away.”

You hiccuped through a sob, lips trembling.

“Listen to me,” Katie’s voice was calm and patient, “Yer not a baby. Yer brave. Braver than they’ll ever be.”

A beat passed. Then another.

And slowly, with shaking fingers, you reached up… and unlocked the door.

Relief washed over Katie’s face, “C’mere, little lady. Yer okay. Yer fine. I’m right here.”

“Auntie Katie,” You whimpered, collapsing against her chest.

Katie caught you easily, tucking your head under her chin as you clung to her like a lifeline. But even in the chaos of it—your trembling limbs, your hiccuping sobs—you still tried to twist your body slightly, turning so the worst of the damp patch was hidden behind your thighs and away from her hands.

You didn’t want her to know.

Didn’t want anyone to know.

You’d already been laughed at once. Twice. Too many times. You weren’t doing that again.

You buried your face in her hoodie, hoping that if you just stayed very still, she wouldn’t notice.

But Katie’s arms fully wrapped around you, warm, solid, and safe.

And the second her pressed gently to the small of your back—

She felt it.

The wetness.

The clingy, cold fabric against your shorts.

Katie’s breath hitched for half a second. Just long enough to register it.

“Oh, Monkey,” Katie murmured, so softly and heartbreakingly kind that it nearly undid you all over again.

She didn’t pull away.

Didn’t say anything sharp or shocked or unkind.

She just pulled you tighter and held you like you were unbreakable.

Held you like nothing about this changed a single thing.

Your bottom lip trembled as fresh shame surged up your throat, “I… I didn’t mean it,” You whispered, barely audible, “Didn’t even feel it. I was just… too scared. I didn’t want you to know.”

Katie gently rocked you, her chin resting against the top of your head, “I know yer didn’t, little lady. I know. And it’s alright. Yer don’t ever have to hide it from me.”

You let out a shuddery breath and tried to mumble something else—an apology, maybe—but Katie hushed you, “I’m proud of yer for opening the door, sweetheart. That’s all that matters right now.”

“It’ll almost be time for us to get off the plane soon,” Katie murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

At the end of the flight, you still felt absolutely mortified. You couldn’t even bring yourself to unbuckle your seatbelt, let alone stand up. 

The second the seatbelt sign pinged off and everyone else began shuffling for their bags, you curled tighter into the window seat, heart pounding with dread.

“Come on, little lady,” Katie gestured you out of your seat, “Ready to get off? Just one more flight, and then yer’ll see yer Ma soon, yeah?”

“No,” You whispered when Katie tried to coax you out of your seat gently, “I’m… I’m not moving.”

Katie didn’t argue, and she saw it in your face the moment the announcement came on. You weren’t moving, so she stayed in her seat too, resting her hand gently over yours.

“Okay, alright, we’ll wait until everyone is off,” Katie told you in a gentle tone of voice, “We don’t have to rush, it’s okay.”

You barely even nodded. You felt so embarrassed to get up, you didn’t want anybody to know what had happened. 

Your thumb edged towards your mouth, but you fought against it because you didn’t want to get teased again. You absentmindedly began to pinch your skin without even realising it.

“Hey, where’s yer chewie, little lady?” Katie asked, calm and patient, “I think that’ll be better than pinching yer skin, eh?”

You didn’t utter a single response. You just kept pinching your skin until it was red and sore.

Katie exhaled a sigh, taking hold of both your hands in her own, “We don’t want yer to hurt yerself, sweetheart. How about we try and use yer chewie instead?”

“I… I don’t wanna. ‘M not a baby,” You murmured.

“I know yer not, Monkey. But it’ll be better than hurting yerself.” Katie murmured, looking around the almost-empty plane in search of your chewie,  “Not long until we can get off now, eh?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat felt tight and dry, as if you said even a word, you’d start crying again. Your fingers twitched in Katie’s hold, wanting to keep pinching, needing something to do with the shame burning your skin.

Katie spotted the stray chewie on the vacant seat across from you and quietly reached for it, offering it to you without pushing, “Just try it for me. No one’s lookin’. No one’s laughin’. We’re the last off.”

With shaking hands, you took it and pressed the chewie to your mouth like it was a secret. Katie sat back, not saying a word while she continued to gently rub your arm.

“Alright, we’re all good to leave now,” Katie broke the silence after a few minutes. 

“N… No,” You whimpered in fear.

“Monkey—” Katie began, keeping her tone warm and gentle.

“No! I don’t wanna!” You exclaimed, shaking your head in protest.

“Alright then, we’ll have to do it my way instead, then, eh?” Katie murmured, slipping her arms under you like it was the easiest thing in the world.

You whined in protest, limbs all stiff and your face burning, “N… No, Auntie Katie, stop—don’t—put me down,” You hissed, squirming even though your body was too tired to fight properly, “Put… Put me down!”

“No can do, Monkey,” Katie didn’t flinch. She just tightened her grip, holding you close like you weighed nothing at all, “I told yer that we’ll do it my way.”

You buried your face in her shoulder, fists clenched and your heart hammering. You were sure everyone could see. You were sure they knew. That somehow, even though the cabin was mostly empty and no one was even looking, they all knew what you’d done.

“N… No, I don’t wanna!” You whined, thrashing in her arms, “Put me down! Put me down!”

Katie didn’t react to your flailing—just adjusted you in her arms like she’d carried you a thousand times before, whispering gently as she walked down the aisle, “You’re alright, I’ve got you. You’re safe. Just breathe for me now, yeah?”

You could feel your legs wobbling even though they weren’t touching the floor. Every step she took felt like another crack in your already fragile shield of dignity. But Katie didn’t flinch. Didn’t rush. She just kept her arms around you, firm and steady, as if your panic didn’t scare her at all.

“I know it feels big right now,” Katie murmured, more to you than anyone else, “But I promise, this moment’ll pass. And I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You were too overwhelmed, too humiliated as your fingers gripped her shirt tightly like it was your only tether to the earth. Your Chewie dangled limply from your mouth now, half-forgotten.

Katie didn’t stop moving until she reached the nearest accessible toilet. You could feel her grip tightening with every step as she shielded you from the world. 

“I… I want to go down—Put me down! Put me down!” You wailed, your arms flailing as you wildly kicked and tried to get out of her grasp, “Down! D… Down, now!”

Katie hadn’t even got the door shut behind her before you were already trying to crawl away from her, snotty and sobbing and absolutely beside yourself.

“Put me down, put me down—I told you—don’t touch me, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to do it again!” Your voice broke on every word, thick with shame and panic as you twisted away from her and curled up in the corner of the tiny airport toilet cubicle, rocking against the wall like it might somehow swallow you whole.

Katie crouched nearby, hands held out in that soft, gentle way that meant she was ready, not pushing, “Monkey,” She said quietly, “I know. I know it was an accident. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

But you weren’t. You were soaked. And you’d soaked her too, again—just like the other day with the aftermath of everything else happening. 

Katie gently reached into her pocket, flicking her phone open with one hand and quickly texting the one person who would know what to do.

📲 Need spare clothes from Monkey’s case ASAP. Meet by the toilets near the gate. It’s an emergency.

If you like this then please leave you support and leave me a tip 🫶🏼

[gpcwsl]

Could you please Wirte Alessia Russo x reader where the Team is playing Truth or Dare or something

And Reader must kiss any Teammate idk and Alessia gets Really jealous (they are not in Relationship)

Warnings: sorry for changing it up, already did a spin the bottle fan fiction for Caitlin so I wanted to do something different. Not read through properly, kissing, making out.

Alessia Russo x Reader: stop staring.

My MasterList

When Leah fulled on BEGGED you to join the team’s night-in at her house you gave in. Leah and your friendship is like a circle that never ends. Your always honest to each other: if one of you doesn’t like the girl (or guy) the other brings home or dating you or Leah will fully tell the other. And, then the other will break it off. Laughter: both will laugh at anything the other says. Sometimes it will stick, and be an inside joke between the two of you. Which sometimes annoy the others but you two don’t give a shit. Your eachother’s bricks, supporting the building so it doesn’t fall.

You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be at your cozy, warm, not-so-chaotic, well tidied house. But, here you are. After some begging from Leah you are sat in her living room. Few others have left, need in to go somewhere or they are just tried. You wanted to join them and leave but Leah held you hostage the whole time. Leah, you, Alessia, Katie, Caitlin, Lia, Kyra and Beth are the last ones. All in the living room. In different conversations. Caitlin and Katie, of course close together giggling and chattering away on the opposite couch you and Leah were sat on.

You and Leah were in a deep conversation. Well, for you two it was. It was more of an disagreement you could say. Both of you were fighting over who F•R•I•E•N•D•S character is better. Obviously, people have opinions. But, either of you are letting this go. (If you don’t watch/like friends, you can imagine a different show/movie.) Leah’s favourite is Rachel. Describing how much of a power house she is. Also sneaking in the conversation that her and Ross were on a break, but Ross was in the wrong for sleeping with someone only a mere hours after. (Yep, that’s my opinion.) But for you, it was Chandler. His jokes, sarcasm and his sweet words that made Monica fall more in love with him.

During this debate, unknown to everyone (but Kyra who had this knowing look on her face) was Alessia staring at the two of you. An unusual expression. When I say unusual I mean, Alessia would never in a day have this sort of expression. A sour, wanting to kill someone kind of expression. Alessia eyes were cold and black. Cold like the water the titanic sunk in and, black like coal, you get to increase the fire that was burning inside of her right now. She only broke out the soul-staring when Kyra (who knew why the girl had this look at her) smiling cheekily at her nudges her shoulder.

“Stop staring, or you’ll actually kill her.” Kyra whispered to her, looking around to see if anyone else was in heard of this conversation but no see everyone in they own tiny world.

Alessia, still with the cold expression but her eyes turn back to blue. “Good.” Alessia mumbled, grumpily falling back into the beanbag, that was next to the television. “They say they are ‘just friends’ but look at them! Leah is all over her, first of all. And then, Y/n she’s…” - Kyra cuts her off with a smirk. “Beautiful.”

“Shut up.” Alessia mumbled, rolling her eyes as she shoves Kyra a little. “But, yeah she is. She’s gorgeous, her voice is so smooth, her hair is so soft and her hands-“

“Okay, shut up!” Kyra exclaimed, gaining eyes from everyone, mainly you. Alessia immediately smacks her shoulder, turning red. Beth, being the nosy friend she is asks - “shut up about what?”

Alessia silently begs Kyra not to say anything. Though, Kyra isn’t gonna tell the girls who she’s blushing over but, she is gonna tease Alessia. She turns her head to look at Alessia, smirking. Alessia shakes her head. “Kyra, no.” Alessia whispers.

“Alessia has got a crush!” Kyra blurts out, earning different types of reactions. Alessia groaning, everyone else teasing her but Y/n. She’s quiet, only for a few moments though before speaking.

“So, how long you been feeling this way about this person.” You ask, looking at her. Alessia’s head shoots to you, staring fora couple of seconds before clearing her throat. “Umm… around three months.”

You nod your head, looking down before standing up. “Need to use the restroom.” Without saying a word you speed-walk away from the group, looking at your figure in a mix our worry about the sudden change. Especially Leah. Who you were just laughing and giggling with.

Leah was about to get up and follow you but a voice stops her. “No, sit down. Let Alessia go.” Kyra says, shaking her head at Leah which makes her look at Alessia who was looking at Kyra.

“What?” Leah says, still looking at Alessia. “Why should Alessia go-“

“Leah, just - leave it for Alessia. This one at least.” Kyra exclaimed, before standing up wanting to pull Alessia up. Turning to her. “Talk to her, tell her”.

“Kyra, I can’t-“ - “you can, i know you can.”

Alessia takes a breath in, before nodding; standing up taking a step forward to speak to Leah just for a few seconds. “I’ve got this one. I need to tell her something.” Without a word she walks to the downstairs bathroom.

Alessia softly knocks on the door. Hearing a few shuffles before a door opening. Alessia heart beats faster. As the door swung open the space between the two is so close. You couldn’t fit a cat’s head in.

“Alessia.” You breathe out. Not expecting the forward to be standing right in front of you. “You need to use the restroom?”

Alessia shakes her head, her eyes never leaving yours, enchanted. “No, no I need to speak with you.”

You burrow your eyebrows, but slowly nods her head. “Yeah, sure. You wanna head up to Leah’s bedroom? More comfortable.”

Alessia breathes in but nods, her cheeks turning a shake of pink. “Yeah, that’s good.”

The two of you, in quiet walk up the stairs. Both h of your kinda sneaking past the others, but didn’t see either of you. Reaching the bedroom, softly opening the door. Alessia walking in first, followed by you. Shutting the door gently, before looking at Alessia.

“Okay, what’s up?” You ask, leaning your back against the door, looking at the blonde. Alessia takes in the way your body is leaning.

“Right. Look, this might ruin our friendship, but I’ve been feeling this for a few months now. You know the girl I like?” Alessia asks, cautiously moving forward, more to you.

You tense as she brings up the crush. Pulling back the urge to roll your eyes, you nod your head instead. “Yep, what about her.” Your voice tone not coming out like you wanted. Taking Alessia slightly back, not questioning it.

“It’s you. You’re the girl.” Alessia mumbles, not looking at her preparing for rejection.

You stunned. Looking at her, trying to see if she’s joking or actually telling the truth. But, by the reaction she’s having. Not looking at you. You know she is.

Smiling a little, before moving closer to her. Alessia looks up as she sees a shadow in front of her. Her breath drops as she sees how close you are to her. Looking into her eyes, still smiling. “I have feelings for you too.”

Alessia looks shocked, like she’s seen a ghost. “But, you and Leah seemed so close and-“

You burst out laughing. “Me and Leah. Oh, over my dead body.” When you stop laughing you can see how Alessia shoulders aren’t as tense, she’s actually smiling at you.

“So.. I can take you out? On a date?” Alessia asks, her cheeks now going an a bright red. You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, definitely.”

Alessia shuffles on her spot. Her eyes still at you. Trying to boost herself up. Something clearly on her mind. She finally speaks up. “Can I- can I kiss you?”

If it’s possible your smile brightens. Nodding your head. You breathe an “yeah” out. Alessia moves forward, looking in the eyes for any indication that you don’t want this but, sees none. Bringing an hand up to cup your cheeks, slowly leaning in; soflty connecting her lips onto yours. Yours hand immediately finding her waist. You’re the one who deepens the kiss. Kissing Alessia more harder.

The air in the room shifts, well for Alessia it does. As she pushes you back. Till your back meets the door. Groaning against her lips as you feel the impact. Alessia quickly moves back, worried if she hurt you. “Shit - sorry I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

“Less. It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite actually.” You say, smirking a little before connecting your lips together again. Your hand reaches behind yours to lock the door. Before pushing Alessia forwards, till her legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Is this okay?” You mumble against her lips as you softly place her on the bed, you hovering over her. Alessia nods, immediately wanting your lips back on hers.

Meanwhile downstairs, Kyra having a knowing smirk on her face. But also making sure no one, especially Leah wound get up and ruin it for them.

[izzih22]

Chapter 6: Almost

Note: should I post the rest… hmm… idk

It had been four days since prom.

Four days since Azzi had sat in Paige’s lap in the dark, trembling and broken, her voice barely holding up as she told her everything that had happened. Four days since Paige had wrapped her up like something sacred and whispered things Azzi had barely let herself believe she needed to hear.

Four days, and they hadn’t talked about it again.

Not directly.

There were glances, touches, a few quiet pauses when something came too close to the memory. But mostly, they did what they always did—they existed in that strange, magnetic space between friends and something so much more.

And now, with a few more days until Paige had to fly back to Minnesota, everything felt like it was ticking down.

But they weren’t rushing through the time.

They were stretching it out.

The Fudd house was chaotic in the best way that morning. Jose and John were fighting over cereal again—Azzi’s mom had bought the last box of the good kind, and Jose insisted he’d called dibs last night. Katie stood in the doorway holding her coffee like it was the only thing keeping her from launching the cereal box out the window.

Paige was sitting at the kitchen island, grinning like she’d been part of the family forever. She was eating toast and stealing pieces of bacon off Azzi’s plate whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Azzi elbowed her. “You have your own bacon.”

“Yeah, but yours tastes better,” Paige said, popping another piece in her mouth.

“You’re the worst guest.”

“You say that, but you’d cry if I left early.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.

Katie raised a brow behind her mug and mouthed mhm as she turned back toward the sink.

That afternoon, it rained out of nowhere—thunderous, hot summer rain that hit the roof hard and made everything smell like wet pavement and grass. Azzi tugged Paige out onto the covered back porch just as the sky opened up.

“God, I forgot how loud it gets here,” Paige said, eyes wide as the rain pounded down like a drumline.

“You miss it?”

“Kind of,” Paige admitted. “Not the bugs. But this? Yeah. This I miss.”

Azzi leaned her shoulder against the porch beam and watched Paige. Not the rain. Just her.

“You always look different here,” Azzi said quietly.

“Different how?”

“More like you. The you I knew before everything.”

Paige blinked. “Before what?”

Azzi shrugged, glancing away. “Before the cameras. Before the hype. Before college coaches started drooling over you and you got your own freaking documentary.”

“I don’t even feel like that person most days.”

“Good,” Azzi said. “She’s kind of intimidating.”

Paige laughed—loud and full and completely unguarded. “You think I’m intimidating?”

Azzi turned to face her fully. “Sometimes.”

They were only a few inches apart now.

“You’re not scared of me though,” Paige said, teasing, but softer underneath.

“No,” Azzi said, shaking her head. “Never scared.”

Paige’s smile faded a little. The moment stretched.

And then Jose banged on the glass door behind them.

“Hey! Are y’all emotionally staring at each other again?”

Azzi groaned and turned away. “I’m going to kill him.”

Paige snorted and followed her back inside.

Later that night, they played Uno with the boys in the living room. Paige and Azzi teamed up, obviously, even though Jose tried to argue it was unfair.

“They cheat without even trying,” John said, throwing down a Draw Four with a dramatic sigh.

“Jealousy looks bad on you,” Paige said, smirking.

“Y’all need to stop finishing each other’s sentences,” Jose added.

“We don’t do that,” Azzi said at the exact same time Paige said the same thing.

Everyone groaned.

Katie popped her head in from the kitchen. “Let me know when you’re all done being in denial.”

“Mom!” Azzi called, mortified.

But Paige just laughed until her sides hurt.

They ended up in Azzi’s room again, like always. No real bedtime when you were teenagers and the clock didn’t matter as much as being close to someone who made you feel whole.

Azzi lay on her stomach on the bed, scrolling through her phone lazily. Paige sat beside her with her legs stretched out, picking at the threads of the comforter like it had secrets.

“You never talk about prom,” Paige said finally.

Azzi stopped scrolling. Her phone dimmed. She didn’t look up. “There’s not much to say.”

“There’s everything to say.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened, but only for a second. Then she rolled onto her back, looking at the ceiling.

“I think I overreacted,” she admitted. “Like… it wasn’t that bad, right?”

“Azzi.”

“I mean, I got out. He didn’t—he didn’t—”

“Don’t do that,” Paige said, voice sharp but still gentle. “Don’t shrink what happened just because it didn’t go further. You felt unsafe. That’s enough. That’s all that matters.”

Azzi blinked fast, eyes glossy.

“And you called me,” Paige said more quietly. “You trusted me. That’s not something I’ll ever take lightly.”

Azzi sat up then, suddenly needing to be closer. Paige looked at her, and it was all over her face—fierce protectiveness, softness, something trembling underneath.

“You looked like you wanted to kill him,” Azzi whispered.

Paige nodded. “I still do.”

A silence settled between them again, but it was warmer now. Thicker with something unspoken.

“I almost kissed you that night,” Azzi said suddenly.

Paige didn’t move.

“I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Paige swallowed. “I know.”

Their eyes met and held.

“I think about it sometimes,” Azzi admitted.

“Me too.”

“But we didn’t.”

“No,” Paige agreed, voice low.

They were close now. Knees touching. Hands so close on the bedspread that if one of them shifted even an inch—

“But if we did now,” Azzi said carefully, “would it change things?”

Paige looked at her, really looked. Her voice was quieter than before.

“I don’t want to do this unless you’re sure.”

“I’m not,” Azzi said. “But I want to be.”

Paige nodded, her face unreadable.

“I’ll wait.”

“You always do,” Azzi said, with something like gratitude and guilt.

“Because you’re worth it,” Paige said. “And because I’m scared too.”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard. “You?”

Paige nodded. “If I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop.”

Azzi’s breath caught. “That’s not fair.”

“I know.”

They sat in that moment for a long time—both too brave and too scared, hearts racing, the space between them humming with almosts and not yets.

Then Paige reached out slowly and took Azzi’s hand. Just that.

Azzi squeezed it like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

And maybe it was.

Neither of them kissed that night.

But when they curled into bed, there was a different kind of closeness. A kind of silence that held so much more than words.

Paige lay on her back. Azzi tucked against her side, head resting on her shoulder, hand resting over her heart.

It was steady, strong, familiar.

Azzi whispered something into her shirt that Paige couldn’t quite make out.

“What’d you say?”

Azzi paused. Then said, louder, “Don’t leave until you have to.”

“I won’t,” Paige promised.

“And don’t kiss me unless you mean it.”

“I already do.”

Outside, the rain had stopped.

But the storm inside them?

That was still brewing.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Copy II

Alessia Russo x Child!Reader

Katie McCabe x Child!Reader

Summary: Your sister is just like your brothers

When Alessia changed teams from United to Arsenal, it means you got a new Russo kit. You get every shirt of every team Lessi's ever been on.

You've even got her college football shirt but that's a sleepytime shirt so you don't wear it out of the house.

You wear your new Arsenal shirt out of the house though because Lessi's taking you to training with her. One day, she tells you, the number on your back will be yours rather than hers and you'll be the Russo playing.

By the time you start playing with the big girls, Lessi will be at the end of her career or already retired. You'll never play with Alessia Russo, the football player but she promises you that you can always play with Lessi Russo, your sister.

Arsenal is different from United so you can actually attend because Lessi lives closer now.

It's shooting training today and that's your most favourite. You can't join in when the big girls first start training but you can be included near the end.

You've been excited about practicing with Lessi all week but now, as you watch her, you can feel that excitement fade away.

Some of the Academy girls have been invited to practice with the first team. They're bigger than you so they can play with the big girls from the beginning.

There's one in particular that's getting personal attention from Lessi. Your sister's adjusting her position and showing her the correct technique the exact way that Lessi does for you, down to slightly nudging her around with her boots.

Alessia's smiling at her with the same smile that's usually reserved for you.

You thought that smiling was only used for you. You thought you were special because Alessia only smiles at you that way.

Apparently not.

Apparently you and this Academy girl are the exact same in Alessia's eyes.

A long time ago, when you much littler, Gio and Luca both yelled at you when you tried to play with them. They kept pushing you away and you kept trying to get involved until they yelled.

Mummy took you away as you sobbed and had to explain that sometimes your siblings didn't want to play with a little girl like you. She explained that sometimes people your siblings' ages like to hang out with people their age.

You were silly to think that only applied to your brothers because it's clear that Alessia is just like them. She wants to hang out with only people close to her age too.

It's that time in training where you can join in but she still hasn't called you over.

She's just like your brothers.

You want to be just like Alessia. You want to make her proud but she's forgotten about you just like your brothers do.

You really, really want her to be proud of you though but you don't know how to compete with the bigger girls who can kick harder and run faster than you.

You're still little compared to them.

"Alright, little Russo?"

Katie sits down next to you, nudging her knee against yours.

""Why aren't you practicing, huh?"

You burst into tears immediately and Katie jolts in shock.

"Ah, shit. No, wait, not shit. Don't-Don't repeat that! Crap! Er..." She folds you into a hug quickly. "Do you want me to get Less?"

"N-No!" You blubber," Lessi doesn't want me! No Lessi!"

"Oh, kid, I think your sister-"

"No Lessi!" You insist.

"Okay," Katie says," No Russo. Come on, let's take you inside and get you something to drink."

You don't know why you confess everything to Katie but you do. She's nice and warm and gives good hugs. Not as good as Alessia's but still good.

She keeps you with her and lets you help out in the gym before you crash out on the mats halfway through her session, one of her jackets thrown over you in lieu of a blanket.

Katie keeps working on the weights, one earphone hanging in her ear pumping music to keep her motivated while the other dangles.

It's because of that single earphone that Katie's still aware enough of her surroundings to hear the door bang open and Alessia to come tumbling through it.

"I've lost my sister!" She announces," Fuck, Katie, have you seen my sister?"

"Over by the mats," Katie replies," She was very upset. You didn't include her in training when you said you would. You gave a lot of attention to the Academy girls. She felt pretty left out."

"It was an accident!" Alessia insists," I swear! I didn't mean to."

"Hey, you don't need to convince me. Convince your sister."

You're laying on the mats, asleep under Katie's jacket, and Alessia shakes you awake. You come back into consciousness groggily and sit up, rubbing your eyes.

"Hey, tesoro," She says softly," I heard you were feeling upset."

You nod.

"I'm sorry," She says," It was my mistake. I didn't mean to leave you out. Sometimes the Academy girls need help sometimes."

"I need help too," You whisper.

"Not like them, do you know why?"

You shake your head. "Why?"

"Because you're a little superstar. They're just not as good as you."

"But they're big girls."

"Being big girls don't mean they're the best. Not like you are."

You grin up at Lessi. "Really?"

"Of course. You know I wouldn't lie to you."