#my heart got squeezed in most of the scenes

[oacest]

(with enormous thanks to @noandneuron for their tremendous scholarly work taking pics of the library print version of this article, which seems to otherwise not exist online. original post with pics can be found here.)

LIAM WANTED ME TO MARRY HIM AND HAVE HIS BABY... BUT NOEL TORE US APART

SINGER FELL FOR WICKED SEX LIES ABOUT LOVER

by Phil Taylor, Chief Feature Writer (News of the World) (Sept 8, 1996)

Oasis idol Liam Gallagher's jilted fiancee opened her heart to the News of the World last night and told how her wedding plans were torn apart by his scheming brother Noel.

“Liam was the love of my life and we planned to get married and have children,” seethed Cerice Blakeley. “But Noel wrecked our relationship because the most important thing in his life was Oasis and he felt that I was in the way. I will never, ever forgive him. Noel deviously told his brother the most hurtful allegation that he could about me—that I had betrayed him and had sex with the band's cocaine supplier. I never two-timed Liam. But he believed Noel and was absolutely devastated. To this day he doesn't know the truth. Now Liam's with Patsy Kensit. I wonder if Noel will do the same to her.”

Life had all looked so different when Cerice first met the brothers who were yet to take Britain by storm. It was in a marquee near Oldham in May 1992—and it was Cerice's 21st birthday.

“I was heavily into the Manchester music scene,” she said. “And I was friendly with a band called the Inspiral Carpets—at the time Noel worked for them as a roadie. When he came along with the band I wasn't attracted to him at all. I hated his haircut—it looked as though someone had used a bowl. But I took one look at Liam and it was love at first sight.

“He wore blue cords and a dark navy kagoule and looked adorably different. I got quite flirtatious with him and later we arranged a date. Liam couldn't drive and was living at his mum Peggy's council house in Manchester. So I picked him up in my Citroen and we went up on the moors. Liam gave me the most amazing kiss I've ever had. It seemed to go on for ages and my mind was in a whirl. I felt so turned on I wanted to have sex with him there and then. I know he felt the same.

“But we decided to do it properly, so we booked into a lovely country hotel. I've never felt so excited in my life as we finally curled up on the bed and smoked a joint of marijuana. We kissed and kissed and I was ready and willing for Liam to make love to me. But to my disappointment, he suddenly stopped and told me, 'I respect you too much.' I couldn't believe it. It was so unlike a Manchester bloke. But I was very touched and it made me love him and want him even more.”

Liam later invited Cerice home to meet his mum. Then, she said, after a cup of tea and a chat they went upstairs to Liam's bedroom... and made love for the first time.

Cerice sighed: “Liam was only 19, two years younger than me, and was very nervous in bed. I wanted to strip him off, but he was so self conscious. He wouldn't take off his cream woolly jumper because he felt his chest was too puny. So I tried to break the ice and joked: 'Don't worry about your chicken chest, you've got lovely footballer's legs.'

“It worked. He relaxed and we made love to Hey Jude, one of his favourite Beatles songs. I felt wonderful afterwards and spent the night in Liam's bed. Then, the next morning, he brought me up a cup of tea and we chatted for ages.

“Then he ran a bath and started putting handfuls of salt in it. I couldn't believe my eyes and asked him what he was doing. He told me, 'It helps strengthen my bones.'

“Afterwards he spent ages doing his hair... he was always using his mum's hairdryer. I told him, 'You're going to end up like Mick Jagger.' Then I asked him if he wanted to try my mascara—and he did. But he went one step further and squeezed into my size 8 velvet jacket too. Then he put on the Rolling Stones record Satisfaction, pouted his lips and started strutting around the bedroom like Jagger. I creased up laughing. I'm only 5ft 5ins and Liam is 5ft 11ins. The jacket was so tiny on him, the sleeves rolled up around his elbows. But he loved it and it turned him on. He fell on the bed and we had fantastic sex for 45 minutes. Afterwards, Liam told me, 'I'm not gay or bisexual. I'm just in touch with my feminine side.'”

Cerice saw Liam and Oasis rise from obscurity to stardom. “I went to the studio with them while they were recording their album Definitely Maybe and knew they were going to be massive,” she said. “It went to No. 1.”

Two years after they met, Cerice's life seemed complete. “We had just got back to Liam's mum's house from a gig in Sheffield,” she said. “Liam looked really nervous. He told me, 'I have got something very nice to ask you. Will you marry me? I want you to have my children.'

“I was thrilled. I gave him a big hug and said, 'Of course I will.' We celebrated with a glass of his favourite drink. Jack Daniel's and Coke. Then we went round to my home and he told my dad. Liam said to him, 'I love Cerice and I want her to feel secure, so I've asked her to get engaged.'

“Being a practical, logical man, Dad asked Liam how financially secure he felt he was going to be. At the time, Liam was only getting £100 a week from the band. And he told my dad he couldn't even afford to buy me an engagement ring. But he said he was saving up to get me one. Dad wasn't too impressed. But he gave us his blessing because he wanted me to be happy.”

Liam's brother Noel, she said, was less pleased. “Noel nicknamed me Yoko Ono,” she recalled bitterly. “He felt I'd pull Liam away from the band, just as Yoko did with John Lennon and the Beatles. Nothing could have been further from the truth.”

Cerice and Liam rented a flat in the Didsbury area of Manchester for £75 a week and moved in together. “He put his favourite posters on the ceiling of our front room,” she said. “They were of John Lennon and the Stone Roses, one of his favourite bands.

“I would do the cooking—Liam's favourite meal was steak and Walker's crisps—but he'd always do the washing up and we would take turns with the hoovering. The only thing that annoyed me about him was that he always left his wet towels on the bathroom floor.”

It was in that flat, said Cerice, that the couple planned a family. She sighed, “I said I wanted a little girl and told Liam I hoped she'd have my hair, my brain, and his tenderness. He joked that he wanted a little boy who loved Manchester City, then said, 'I really don't mind what sex it is. I just want to have a baby with you.'”

And all the time, she confessed, their sex life became more and more intense—fuelled by drugs. “I must admit we took our share of cocaine through a £10 note,” she said. “It was extra special when we got in bed together because Liam was away on tour more and more as the band got bigger and bigger. I saw them play before 100,000 at Glastonbury and they were phenomenal.”

In the summer of 1994, Cerice and Liam drove to Scotland together for the massive Tea In The Park festival. “As the journey went on we were feeling friskier by the minute,” she said. “After four hours' driving we couldn't wait any longer. We were travelling on the M74 through Scotland when we saw a big wood. We looked at each other, smiled, and both had exactly the same idea.

“I pulled over, parked on the hard-shoulder and we ran off into the woods. Then we lay down on the soft moss and made wild, blissful love. It was the first time I had ever had sex outside and I think it was for Liam. We were there for nearly an hour writhing among the undergrowth before we finally got up and made our way back to the car. But as we walked back close to the motorway, holding hands and beaming smiles, passing motorists saw us and started beeping their horns. It was obvious what we had been up to and I was blushing bright red. So was Liam.”

They were never to be as happy again. After the concert, Cerice went backstage to congratulate Liam on his performance but could only find Noel. “I asked him where Liam was and he told me, 'He had to leave to catch a plane from Manchester for a concert in Germany tomorrow night. We're performing in Hamburg and he unexpectedly had to catch the flight tonight. I'll be flying over in the morning.'

“Bewildered, I went back to Noel's hotel where I met Simon, the band's cocaine supplier, and a record company executive. He told me he could get keys to Noel's room and I could sleep there. There were two single beds. I fell asleep in one and Simon and this fella slept on the floor, keeping the other one free for Noel.

“Then, at about 6am, Noel came into the room with a blonde and said, 'Oh, you're all in here.' Then he got into his bed with the girl and I went back to sleep. At 9am Noel got up and said, 'I'm going to Hamburg. I've told Liam you're OK and you'd phone him tonight.”

Later that day, Cerice phoned the Gallaghers' mum and she told her that Liam had phoned to pass on his apologies for missing her in the Scottish crowd. That night, Cerice managed to contact him herself.

“He was really angry and abrupt,” she said. “He told me, 'I need to talk to you face to face and not over the phone.' Then he slammed the phone down. I was distraught. He'd never spoken to me like that before and I couldn't understand why. Now I know. Noel told Liam I'd cheated on him and slept with Simon. A friend of mine told Liam it wasn't true. But he wouldn't believe her because it came from his own brother. He was shattered and went completely off the rails afterwards.

“We met just once when he returned to Manchester from Hamburg. I told him he shouldn't have treated me so badly. But we were both so angry and upset we couldn't even row. Instead he walked out of the door and out of my life. I haven't seen or heard from him since. He has never answered my calls. Noel must be delighted.”

After their split in August 1994, Cerice left Britain for Australia to get over the trauma. “It was while I was there that Oasis released Don't Look Back in Anger,” she said. “I tried to relate it to my own circumstances, but I can't look back in any other way. I have no anger towards Liam. But for Noel I have. I despise him. After we split up Liam was shattered and went completely off the rails. He simply hasn't been the same since.”

[goldendot3x]

This episode (Ep11) wrecked me. But it was so, so good.

And that final scene and the confrontation. Oh man, no wonder Freen said that, that’s her favourite scene. It is bloody good.

[bookwormjust]

Child Curiosity (established relationship with Azriel, Nyx questioning)

The Inner Circle reunited as almost every week for their famous dinner, wasn't prepared for a little curious Illyrian boy Fae, who this night decided to ask questions and have what he wanted. Because who would said no to the little boy, big blue ethereal eyes blinking at you, red little puffy cheeks, little freckle on his baby skin, no one can ignore that and only can indulge the little boy curiosity with care and attention.

Our Nyx, ever persistent in his childlike curiosity, wriggled down from Rhysand’s lap and padded over to you, his little feet barely making a sound against the floor. Without hesitation, he climbed up into your lap, nestling against you with the innocent comfort of a child who adored you. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he gazed up at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Can you give me a cousin?” Nyx asked, his voice soft and earnest, as if you had the power to grant his wish with a mere word. “Mama said babies come from females. So... can you make me a cousin soon, Auntie?”

The room fell into an amused silence again, but this time there was a different kind of weight to it—a tender, loving one. The quiet snickers and glances from the Inner Circle faded as they watched the interaction with fondness, understanding the pure innocence of Nyx’s question. Feyre’s eyes shimmered with warmth, and Rhysand had a playful but proud look in his gaze as he watched his son.

You glanced at Azriel, who was already watching you intently. There was a softness in his expression, his usual stoic mask slipping as he witnessed you with Nyx on your lap, looking so natural and loving. Azriel's hazel eyes held a mixture of tenderness and longing, as if the scene before him stirred something deep inside. 

You gently brushed a hand through Nyx’s hair, smiling down at him. “Oh, sweetheart,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection. “It’s not that simple. Babies take time, and your uncle Az and I need to be ready before we can think about giving you a cousin.”

Nyx’s little brows furrowed in confusion. “But why? I’m ready now!” His innocence was almost heart-wrenching, making everyone around the table smile with both amusement and sympathy.

Cassian, unable to resist, leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Looks like you’ve got a tough negotiator there, Az. Good luck explaining that one.”

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head as his shadows shifted in response to his relaxed mood. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze focused on both you and Nyx. “It’s not just about being ready, little one,” Azriel explained in his calm, soothing voice. “Your Auntie and I need to make sure everything is just right. We want to make sure any cousin we give you is as loved and cared for as you are.”

Nyx thought about that for a moment, looking between you and Azriel with the same intensity as if you were discussing the most important matter in the world. His small hand rested on your arm, his little fingers gripping onto you as he said, “I’ll take good care of them, I promise. I’ll share my toys and everything.”

At that, the entire table erupted into soft, warm laughter. Even Feyre, who had been watching quietly, smiled wider, brushing a tear from her eye as Rhysand squeezed her hand under the table. 

You couldn’t help but hug Nyx tighter, your heart swelling with the purity of his words. “I know you would, Nyx,” you whispered into his hair. “You’re going to be the best big cousin one day.”

Azriel leaned closer, his hand resting on your knee and his wings slightly flaring out in a protective, almost possessive gesture. “And when the time comes, Nyx, you’ll be the first to know,” Azriel added, his voice low but filled with an unspoken promise. 

Nyx beamed at that, completely content with your and Azriel’s answers. He stayed on your lap for the rest of the dinner, happily chatting with everyone while you shared a knowing smile with Azriel. The warmth of the Inner Circle surrounded you, and in that moment, with Nyx in your arms and Azriel’s hand in yours, you felt that whatever the future held, it would be filled with love, family, and a sense of belonging that went beyond words.

As the dinner went on, the soft smiles exchanged between you and Azriel carried a new kind of understanding—one of patience, love, and the quiet certainty that when the time was right, you would start the next chapter of your lives together.

[pucksandpower]

Pretty Woman Moment

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: you have your very own Pretty Woman moment in the glittering shops of Monaco

You take a deep breath of the fresh Monaco air as you walk hand-in-hand with Max down the cobbled streets. He gives your hand a little squeeze and smiles at you. Even after all this time, his smile still makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re both dressed casually — just simple jeans and t-shirts, with caps pulled low over your faces. It’s one of the things you love most about your life here. The two of you can blend in and just be yourselves, without the glare of fame and fortune.

As you pass a small cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out. Your mouth waters.

“I’m dying for an iced coffee,” you say longingly. “Do you mind if we stop for a quick drink?”

Max chuckles. “Of course, schatje. You stay here and keep browsing. I’ll go grab us something.”

He gives you a peck on the cheek before heading into the cafe. You watch him go, your eyes drifting down to admire his cute butt in those jeans. Yup, you’ve definitely still got it bad for him.

Humming to yourself, you continue down the street, peering in shop windows at the latest fashions.

Up ahead you spot the iconic red awnings of Cartier. On a whim, you decide to browse the opulent jewelry shop.

As soon as you enter the store, you can feel the receptionist’s eyes sweep over you, no doubt taking in your casual outfit. Her gaze lingers on your much-loved sneakers. You pretend not to notice as you begin looking at a display of gem-encrusted watches.

Moments later, a saleswoman approaches you. “May I help you find something?” The saleswoman asks in a frosty tone.

You give her a polite smile. “Just looking, thanks.”

The woman’s eyes flick to your sneakers again, and her lips press together in disapproval. Still, she gives a curt nod and stands stiffly nearby like she is waiting for you to leave.

You feel a flare of annoyance at her judgmental attitude, but brush it off. You don’t have anything to prove to her. You know who you are, sneakers and all.

As you admire a display of delicate tennis bracelets, you feel the saleswoman’s eyes on you. She hovers over your shoulder, as if worried you might steal something. You bite back an amused laugh. If only she knew the size of your jewelry collection back home. Max loves spoiling you with extravagant gifts just because.

You wander towards the case of Panthère de Cartier rings, their tiny emerald eyes glinting up at you. As you lean down to admire them, the saleswoman swoops in.

“I’m afraid those particular pieces are off limits to handle without intent to purchase,” she says crisply.

You straighten up slowly. “Of course. My apologies.”

You turn away, irritation prickling. The other salespeople eye you suspiciously too now. Pretentious snobs, you think.

Just then, the glint of your own diamond tennis bracelet catches your eye — the one Max gave you for your anniversary last year. It’s slipped partially down your wrist unnoticed. You nudge it back into place just as the first saleswoman appears at your elbow.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re attempting to steal that bracelet,” she hisses.

You gape at her. “What? This is mine, I’ve been wearing it since I came in.”

“Likely story,” she snaps. “Jacques, could you please call security?”

A bulky guard steps forward, eyeing you distrustfully. “Let’s just take a look at that bracelet, miss.”

Mortified anger rises in you. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say heatedly.

The saleswoman’s expression hardens. “If you make a scene, we’ll be forced to restrain you until the police get here.”

Just then, the door opens and Max strides in, caramel-drizzled iced coffee in hand. His eyes instantly take in the situation. He steps forward, eyes blazing.

“What the hell is going on here?” He demands, voice dangerous. You’ve never seen his racing temper directed at you, though you know it lurks beneath his calm demeanor.

“It’s fine, Max, just a misunderstanding-” you start gently.

He silences you with a look, then turns his glare on the cringing salespeople. When he speaks again, his voice is lethally quiet.

“This is my wife, Y/N, and I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect. She is the most important person in my world.” Though his words are soft, they crack sharply like a whip. “Now apologize. Immediately.”

The saleswoman who accused you blanches paper-white. “M-Mr. Verstappen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Max holds up a hand, cutting off her stammering. His sharp features are carved from stone. “Save it. Your behavior was unacceptable. We’ll be taking our business elsewhere and you can be assured that I will be speaking to corporate.”

But the security guard blocks your path. “Just a moment. I still need to verify this bracelet did not come from our store.” He reaches out towards your wrist.

Quick as a flash, Max grabs the man’s arm, halting him. “Don’t touch her,” Max says in a low, dangerous voice. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the ice in his tone.

The security guard tries to yank his arm away, but Max holds firm. “I suggest you let us leave right now, before I call my lawyer.”

He drops the offending arm as the security guard takes several steps back, then takes your hand gently. “Come, schatje. Let’s get you home.”

Once outside, Max halts and turns you gently to face him. His handsome face is creased with concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from your face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

You lean into his touch, letting it soothe away the sting. “I’m okay now that you’re here. But Max … the way she looked at me, treated me like I was garbage just because of what I was wearing …” You trail off, throat tightening.

Max’s jaw tightens, a storm brewing in his beautiful eyes again. “She had no right to talk down to you that way. No one has the right to make assumptions and treat you like anything less than the amazing woman I know you are.”

Despite everything, you feel yourself smile slightly. No one can make you feel better like Max can but furious tremors in his fingers tell you his wrath still simmers below the surface. You squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, really. Don’t let them ruin our day.”

His expression softens as he looks down at you. “Of course. I just can’t stand to see anyone disrespecting you.” He smiles ruefully. “I may have overreacted.”

You laugh. “Just a bit. But it was gallant of you to come to my defense.” You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly.

Max wraps you in his arms. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. I love you.”

“And I love you.” You take his hand again. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I saw the most adorable baby swans in the harbor earlier.”

The tension eases from Max’s shoulders as you stroll together along the glittering marina. You chat and laugh, the unpleasant scene at the jewelry store already forgotten. Because nothing can touch the happiness you’ve found here, in the sun-drenched streets of Monaco, hand-in-hand with the love of your life.

***

The next evening, you and Max stride arm in arm into Cartier, looking every inch the glamorous millionaire couple that you are. You’re dressed in a slinky black gown with diamond earrings while Max cuts a sharp figure in an Armani tuxedo. The salespeople gape as you saunter in, not recognizing you as the girl from yesterday.

You head straight for the saleswoman who accused you of stealing. “Remember me?” You ask breezily.

She flushes, stammering apologies. You silence her with one manicured finger.

“Let’s start fresh, shall we?” You extend a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“S-Suzanne,” she manages.

“Suzanne, my husband Max and I are looking to make a significant purchase tonight.” You gesture around the lavish store. “You have some beautiful pieces. Why don’t you show us some options?”

“Of course, right this way.” Suzanne leads you to a private viewing room. Hands shaking, she brings out diamond necklaces, tennis bracelets, rings — tens of millions of dollars in jewels laid across velvet.

You and Max pretend to consider each item seriously, before waving it away. “Oh no, that won’t do … this one’s not quite right either …” With each rejection, Suzanne’s smile grows tighter.

Finally you turn to her, feigning disappointment. “Well Suzanne, I’m afraid nothing here has caught my eye. It all seems a bit … subpar.”

She gapes. “S-subpar?”

“Mmhm. I think we’ll try Bulgari next. Their quality is much more superior.” You pause, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I realize this just isn’t going to work out between us.” You gesture around the store. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure this is a fine jewelry store for some people with lower standards, but for me ...” You trail off, shaking your head sadly.

Suzanne is white-faced, swallowing hard. “Please, give us another chance. I’m certain we can find something to your satisfaction.”

You pretend to consider it. “Well … I suppose we could take another look.”

For the next hour, Suzanne desperately shows you their most elite pieces, diamond necklaces worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You and Max have a gleeful time trying them on, admiring yourselves, but ultimately waving each one away.

Finally, after rejecting a spectacular €500,000 art deco diamond choker, you say airily, “You know what, Suzanne? I just don’t think Cartier is right for me. It’s been … educational, but I believe Max and I will be going now.”

As you saunter out, Suzanne calls desperately, “Please come again soon!”

You pause, looking back with a dazzling smile. “I would … but you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.”

And linking your arm through Max’s, you sashay into the balmy Monaco night, leaving the frantic saleswoman behind.

[star-girl69]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.

a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey

******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT

warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.

And unknown places scare you.

There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.

You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.

You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.

It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.

She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.

“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.

You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.

Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.

That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.

She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.

As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”

Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”

You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.

“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.

“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.

Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.

“We have a mission for the two of you.”

“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”

The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.

Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.

“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.

Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”

Chiron presses his lips together.

“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.

“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”

Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.

Clarisse looks at you.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”

—-

“Y/N.”

You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.

Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.

But, Chiron needed to like you too.

You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.

It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.

She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.

She smiles.

“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”

“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.

If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.

And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.

Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.

“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”

Her face hardens.

“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”

You rip your hand away from her grip.

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”

“You’re crazy!”

—-

You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.

She looks up from her book and laughs.

“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.

“Mission,” you groan.

She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”

“With Clarisse.”

She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.

As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.

She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.

“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

You put your lips right up to her ear.

“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”

“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”

“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”

“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”

“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”

She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.

She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.

The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.

You put your hand on her face.

“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”

What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?

You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.

Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.

And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.

She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.

She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.

You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.

She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.

You look into Marley’s eyes now.

“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”

Marley kisses your cheek.

“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”

“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.

Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.

You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.

—-

The bus ride is boring.

Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.

But you’re bored.

You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.

It’s only been two months.

As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.

You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.

You miss her.

“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.

“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”

“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”

“What?”

Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.

“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”

“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”

She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.

She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.

But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.

“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.

—-

You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.

Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.

You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.

“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”

You realize your head is on her shoulder.

You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.

“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.

You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.

She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.

She’s right up in your ear.

“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”

The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.

You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.

“I’d kill it.”

You both know you probably couldn’t.

She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”

Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.

She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.

She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.

“Hm, mine.”

You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.

You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?

It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.

You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”

Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.

—-

You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.

“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.

You can want her, here, where no one will know.

You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.

The station is oddly busy.

You have this horribly uneasy feeling.

You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.

She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.

You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.

But you trust yourself.

“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.

She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.

She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.

“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”

“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.

Why is she so fucking confusing?

As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?

She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.

You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.

“Clarisse.”

She seems to see it too.

“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.

She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”

When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.

You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.

Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.

The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.

You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.

It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.

That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.

The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.

Something slams against the door.

You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.

“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.

The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.

It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.

“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.

“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.

Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.

You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”

It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.

The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-

Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.

It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.

It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.

You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.

She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-

You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.

No one would know.

Her spear falls to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.

No one would know.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”

“No problem,” she says.

No one would know.

“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.

“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.

It’s so simple.

You both can get what you want from this trip.

“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”

“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.

You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.

You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.

You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.

No one else will ever come close.

“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”

She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.

—-

The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.

Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.

How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?

You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.

She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

—-

The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.

You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.

When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.

“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.

You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.

“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.

—-

The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.

“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.

“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.

Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.

Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.

You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.

“On your left!”

Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.

Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.

She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.

“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.

“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.

“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”

Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.

Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.

“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”

“Yeah, okay.”

—-

Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.

“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.

You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”

She stares at you for a moment.

“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.

Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.

Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.

“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.

It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.

“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”

She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.

“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.

“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.

She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.

“What are you thinking of getting?”

She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”

You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”

She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.

“What was that?”

She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.

You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.

Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.

“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”

You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.

You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.

“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.

“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”

“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”

“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”

The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.

“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”

“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”

You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.

You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.

“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.

—-

“Clarisse.”

She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.

“Clarisse,” you repeat.

She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.

“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”

“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”

“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.

—-

Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.

You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.

You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.

You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.

You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.

It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.

You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”

She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.

“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.

“Don’t be mean.”

You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.

“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.

You whip around and point your finger at her.

“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”

Her smile falls.

“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”

Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.

—-

When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.

You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.

“Y/N.”

You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.

“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”

You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.

Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.

“A toy?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breathe hitches.

“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”

She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.

“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“I want you to let me love you.”

She lets go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”

“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.

“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”

You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”

“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”

You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.

But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.

She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.

Your fingers dig into her back.

“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.

—-

“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.

Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.

You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.

Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.

It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.

You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.

Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.

You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.

He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.

“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.

Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”

Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.

Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.

Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.

—-

marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.

clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟

—-

clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO

—-

honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n

another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk @lacytalks

—-

pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!

[callsigns-haze]

Hi! I love your Twister fics! Anyways I was hoping you could write something about Tyler proposing to fem reader then having boon or javi get certified in being an officiant then get married in field as a tornado touches! That would truly be Tornado wrangler fashion. If not I totally understand.

Winds of Forever

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tyler and Y/N embrace the unpredictability of their love by exchanging vows in the heart of a storm, beginning their married life with nature's raw power as their witness.

Chapter Warnings: Intense weather scenes and emotional moments.

Tyler Owens had always known that his love for storm chasing was rivalled only by his love for you. The thrill of the storm, the adrenaline of the chase—it all paled in comparison to the life you had built together. So when it came time to propose, Tyler wanted the moment to be as extraordinary as the love you shared.

The day had been long and exhilarating, filled with the rush of chasing storms across the plains. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery orange glow across the sky, the team gathered around a campfire, their laughter mingling with the distant rumble of thunder. The air was still charged with the electricity of the storm, and it felt like the perfect moment for something special.

Tyler sat beside you, his heart racing as he reached into his pocket to feel the small, weathered box that had been burning a hole there all day. He looked at you, your face illuminated by the firelight, and knew this was the moment he’d been waiting for. He stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing the attention of everyone around the fire.

As the chatter died down, Tyler took your hand, gently pulling you to your feet. You looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and affection, your heart skipping a beat as you saw the serious expression on his face.

“Y/N,” Tyler began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “From the first storm we chased together, I knew you were different. You’ve been my partner in every way—through every wild adventure, every close call, and every quiet moment in between. I’ve chased a lot of storms, but nothing compares to the chase that led me to you. And I don’t want to spend another day without knowing you’re mine forever.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small box, and your breath caught in your throat as he got down on one knee. The flickering firelight danced in his eyes as he opened the box to reveal a ring that sparkled like the stars above.

“Will you marry me?” Tyler asked, his voice trembling with hope and love.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at him, your heart overflowing with joy. There was only one answer, and it burst from your lips with the force of a storm. “Yes, Tyler! Yes!”

As he slipped the ring onto your finger, you pulled him to his feet, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. The team erupted in cheers, their excitement matching the joy in your heart as you kissed him, tears of happiness blending with the wind that whipped around you.

But as the cheers began to fade, Boone, always the one with the wild ideas, grinned and said, “You know, we could do this right now. Get married here, in the middle of a storm—just like the way you two live your lives.”

You both laughed, but the idea took hold, the thrill of it coursing through you. The thought of marrying Tyler, not in some traditional setting, but here, in the midst of what you loved most—surrounded by storms and friends—felt right. It felt like the most perfect way to begin your life together.

“Why not?” Tyler said, his grin widening as he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“That’s crazy,” you said, but you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“It’s perfect,” he replied, squeezing your hand. “Let’s do it.”

And then, as if the universe itself was in on the plan, Javi, the quiet and steady presence in your group, revealed that he had recently become a certified officiant—“You know, just in case,” he added with a sheepish grin.

The next day, under a sky dark with swirling clouds, you found yourselves standing hand in hand in a wide, open field. The storm had gathered strength, and a massive tornado was forming in the distance, a wild and beautiful force of nature. The wind howled around you, tugging at your clothes and hair, but all you could focus on was Tyler’s hand in yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you amidst the chaos.

Javi stood before you, his voice strong and steady as he began the ceremony. “Tyler, Y/N… I can’t think of a more fitting way for the two of you to start your married life together than in the heart of a storm. Just like this tornado, your love is powerful, unpredictable, and unstoppable. Today, you’re making a promise—to stand by each other, no matter what winds may blow.”

As the tornado loomed in the distance, Tyler turned to you, his eyes filled with love and determination. He took a deep breath and began his vows, his voice strong despite the wind.

“Y/N, from the moment I met you, I knew my life would never be the same. You’ve been my partner in every storm, my calm in the chaos, and my greatest adventure. I promise to stand by your side through every twist and turn, to weather every storm with you, and to love you fiercely, just as fiercely as I love the thrill of the chase. You are my everything, and I vow to protect you, to cherish you, and to never let a day go by without reminding you how much you mean to me.”

Tears filled your eyes as you listened to his words, your heart swelling with love. You squeezed his hand, smiling through your tears as you began your own vows.

“Tyler, you’ve shown me a love that’s as wild and unpredictable as the storms we chase. You’ve taught me to embrace the unknown, to find beauty in the chaos, and to always keep my eyes on the horizon. I promise to stand by you in every storm, to be your safe harbour, and to love you with all the passion and intensity that this life deserves. You are my tornado, my whirlwind, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

As you finished your vows, the tornado touched down, a powerful force of nature swirling behind you as if the universe itself was bearing witness to your promises. The moment was surreal, a perfect blend of chaos and serenity, as you and Tyler sealed your vows with a kiss. The storm raged on around you, but all you felt was the warmth of his lips, the strength of his arms around you, and the certainty that this was the beginning of your greatest adventure yet.

The team erupted in cheers, their voices carried away by the wind as they surrounded you both, their excitement and joy adding to the wild energy of the moment. Boone whooped loudly, clapping Tyler on the back, while Javi grinned, clearly pleased with how perfectly everything had come together.

As the winds began to die down and the storm moved on, you stood there together, hand in hand, staring at the path of the tornado as it carved its way through the land. The world around you was raw and wild, but in Tyler’s arms, you felt nothing but peace and love.

Tyler turned to you, his eyes shining with tears. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his arm around you. “It was perfect,” you whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”

And as you stood there, the wind still whipping around you, you knew that this was just the beginning of your adventure together. The storms would come and go, but your love—like the tornado that had witnessed your vows—was a force of nature, powerful and unbreakable, ready to take on whatever the world threw at you.

Together, you would weather every storm, hand in hand, for the rest of your lives.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

[bianquitasunderworld]

could you write something where dave is obsessed with readers boobs please?

18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: 18+ English is not my first language! Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Switch Dave, Switch Reader/Dom Reader, Dave begs, Mommy kink, Female Penetration. (I think that’s it)

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

A/N: This man is such a LOSER and I love that. I got carried away with this one. I don’t proofread.

Dave’s obsession with boobs, especially your own is truly…questionable. We all know he’s got a thing for boobs I mean we all saw that one scene!

Dave struggles to voice his feelings, often too embarrassed to even speak about such things. He’s frequently averting his gaze, but his eyes involuntarily gravitate towards your chest. The ogling always intensifies when you choose to wear tank tops or choose to forgo a bra, leaving him subtly captivated.

On a particularly hot summer day, Dave had invited you to his home due to your apartment’s lack of electricity and air conditioning. You gladly accepted his offer immediately and chose to wear the most revealing outfit in your wardrobe to keep the heat from affecting you. The outfit was perfect; poor Dave couldn’t look away. He was hypnotized by the way your boobs looked, and his gaze seemed glued to them. Despite his efforts, he found himself entranced, unable to divert his attention.

You weren’t completely oblivious to your boyfriend’s wandering eyes. Of course you didn’t mind but you couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were playing inside his head. Filthy thoughts consumed your mind, the way Dave’s tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth and the way he licked his lips only made you more curious as to what scenarios he could possibly be playing out in his mind.

You wondered if he was thinking about sucking your tits as you ride him, or if he was thinking of you kneeling in front of him with his dick between your tits as he coats them with his come. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together in your seat as you bit your bottom lip, desperately trying to find some relief or pleasure. The thought alone is simply enough for you to get off on.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Dave’s hand and hear his soft voice. “W-what are ya thinking about?” He stutters, his voice laced with nervousness.

He watches and notices how you become fidgety when his hands caress your thigh. A sense of warmth comes over you at his soft touch. His featherlike touch further ignites the small flame that has been burning within you since you noticed his gaze.

your voice is soft as you trip over your words. “N-nothing. T-this is just a good movie, don’t you agree?” Your head nods towards Dave’s tv. Truthfully you couldn’t care less about whatever movie was on at the moment, and neither did Dave, all he could focus on was how thin your blouse was and how he could just barely see the outline of your boobs.

Dave nods even though he isn’t paying any attention to whatever the fuck was playing either, how could he when the most beautiful girl in the world was right in front of him with her boobs on full display! His heart was racing as he tries to calm down his arousal.

He can’t take it anymore, he decides to make a bold decision and just acts before thinking. If all failed he could just die of embarrassment and curl up into fetal position, right?

Dave slowly moves his soft hands up your torso tracing small random patterns against your skin. You shiver as you feel his cold hands make their way up and under your blouse.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't help myself..." He leans in closer, his breath tickling your neck as his fingers brush against your bare skin. His heart is pounding in his chest as he struggles with his desire for you.

“Davie-“ your voice is soft. Dave takes it as a good sign when you don’t immediately stop him and curse him out for being a pervert. You of course know what Dave wants and exactly what he’s up to, he plays this game far too often. Pretends to be shy, innocent, and soft then next thing you know you’re both naked as he’s deep inside you while his mouth is wrapped around your boob or his hand is down your shorts while he suck on your boob, regardless of what happens mark my words, some part of him will be touching your chest.

"I'm-I’m sorry, I can't help myself," Dave confesses, his lips moving against your neck, his hands gently squeezing your soft breasts through your thin blouse. "You're so irresistible." His voice is soft and whiny.

His hand trails across your cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps along your skin. “Y-you’re going to love it. I promise, alright?”

His hands slide down to unbutton your blouse, revealing your bare skin underneath. He leans in to lay a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your collarbone as his fingers skim across your chest.

You nod hesitantly as his hands focus on unbuttoning your blouse, once it’s finally off and your breasts are revealed to him, he can’t help but let out a small whimper. Dave can’t help it, when he sees your bare chest he swears he’s in heaven.

Dave's hands tremble as they slide up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. He leans in closer, his warm breath fanning across your skin. "They're perfect," he murmurs, his voice barely audible even to himself.

You hesitate to speak, stuttering at every word that leaves your lips. “T-Thank yo-u Davie.” The heat between your thighs is becoming so unbearable.

“I w-wanna taste you mommy” Dave murmurs, his voice rough with need. His hands slip inside your panties, his fingers finding the dampness between your legs. Dave’s mouth wraps around your nipple, flicking at it and sucking at it as his hands explore your panties, feeling how wet you’ve become just for him, because of him.

The only sounds that can be heard throughout Dave’s household is the sound of your moans and whimpers as his hand plays with your wet pussy. You buck your hips agaisnt his hand as his fingers rub your clit. "Dave... I'm close," you gasp out, your body arching into his touch. "Don't stop oh my god baby!" The feel of his fingers inside you, combined with his mouth on your breast, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your entire being.

You pant his name, your body trembling with need. The sensations are overwhelming, but in the best way imaginable as his fingers continue to tease you.

F-fuck, yeah, baby," Dave gasps out, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to feel you come around my fingers, come on pretty girl. Let me feel you come around my hand." His fingers move faster, curling deeper inside you as he searches for that one perfect spot to send you over the edge.

Your eyes shut tight and your nails dig into his shoulder as you feel your climax approaching, you cry out his name and beg for him to let you come.

“Fuck, yes," Dave moans, his hips bucking against your leg as he whispers in your ear."Let go, baby. Let me see you come apart for me."

"Come for me, baby. Let go," Dave urges in a husky whimper. "I want to feel you baby.." His fingers curl and stretch, finding just the right spot, the perfect rhythm.

Dave’s eyes watch your every move and reaction as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, his eyes light up as he hears you moan and watches you buck your hips uncontrollably agaisnt his hand. Broken cry’s of pleasure leave your mouth as you come apart around his fingers.

Dave watches you fall apart under his touch. He groans, his hips bucking up against your side , seeking more contact as he feels you shatter around his fingers. “Such a good girl, so fucking tight.” he breathes, his voice thick with lust and pride.

A small gasp leaves your lips as you feel empty when he pulls his fingers from your pussy and brings them to his mouth. You watch and bite your lip as with a slow, deliberate motion, he tastes you, savoring your sweetness.

“You taste amazing," Dave murmurs, his eyes locked on yours."Mmm," Dave hums, his eyes closing in pleasure as he tastes you. "You're so fucking addictive," he whispers, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

Feeling your body pressing against his, Dave groans into the kiss, his cock twitching against the rough fabric of his jeans. His cock is begging for a release. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks into your eyes. "You're killing me," he mutters, his voice rough with lust.

Your eyes slowly wander down to the bulge in his jeans, you lick your lips at the sight admiring the imprint of his cock against his jeans. “Is this all for me Davie? You’re this worked up over watching me come and playing my tits?” Your words are filthy and condescending, something Dave catches on to quickly.

“Y-you turned me on so much just by letting me play with your pretty pussy.” He whimpers "I need you right now." He tugs on your hand gently, guiding it to his erection. “I want to feel you wrapped around me so bad." Dave’s voice comes out as a whimper as he begs for you. He’s become desperate and grinds against your palm.

“Please, baby." He whines, his hips undulating against your hand. "I need you so fucking bad." His eyes bore into yours, full of desire and need.

Your eyes admire him as he begs desperately for you, your body is begging for him but the desire to make him beg for your body overpowered your need to please him, to have him inside of you.

Whimpering, Dave presses his hips into your hand. "Please, mommy, please. I need to be inside you.." His voice is raw with need and desire. He leans in, pressing his lips against your neck.

Your resolve slowly fades and you feel yourself giving into him. His desire and desperation turns you on more than anything. Watching him fall apart simply because he needs to be inside you is the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

You give him a small nod and watch as he quickly moves to unzip and take off his pants and quickly drops his boxers to floor, kicking both items of clothing off and moving back to sit near you looking at you intently. You slowly bring your palm to his cock and wrap your hand around it. Admiring his manhood. His cock twitches in anticipation, leaking pre-cum onto your hand.

Your eyes sparkle in admiration as you watch Dave’s face contor into one of pleasure. A deep moan escapes from his throat as he jerks his hips forward, pushing his cock deeper into your hand.

“What do you need baby?” You tease him, watching closely as his glasses fall askew. “I need you to take me inside that tight little pussy of yours, mommy." Dave's voice is ragged.

You tsk at him in disapproval. “Oh such nasty words coming from such a pretty boy, what a shame.”

His cock jerks in your hand, a testament to his arousal. Your hand slows around him, teasing him. “I'm sorry, mommy," Dave pants, his hips jerking involuntarily. "I can't help it. I need you." His cock throbs in your hand

“Oh that’s much better, good boy.” You praise.

“T-Thank you mommy.” As if responding to your approval, Dave's cock twitches again, this time more forcefully. He arches his back, offering you better access to his sensitive tip. "Please, mommy," he whispers. "I need you to ride me.."

You coo at him and slowly remove your hand that’s wrapped around his shaft. “I know baby, you’re just so pretty when you beg. Mommy’s gonna give you what you want baby”

Dave's breath hitches when you remove your hand from his cock. His head rolls back in anticipation, his eyes closed tightly. "Oh, god..mommy," he moans, his voice shaky with desire.

His eyes flutter open, he watches you through the lenses of his glasses. “Thank you, mommy," Dave breathes out, his body trembling with anticipation. As you pull back, he reaches out, tracing the curve of your breast with his fingers. "You're so beautiful."

His words send a shiver throughout your body, his compliment bring out a small smile from you.

“Thank you Davie” You kiss his lips softly then pull away as you straddle his hips. Your entrance hovering right over his thick length, his hands slowly make their way to hold your hips.

Dave watches as you position yourself above him, his heart racing in anticipation. "Mommy," he moans, his hips pushing up against you. His cockhead brushes against your entrance.

His cock twitches against your sensitive folds, begging for entrance. "Please, mommy." You slowly lover yourself down on him, your mouth falls open as you gasp and your eyes shut as you feel his large cock slowly stretch you open around him. “Oh Davie-“ You steady yourself against him.

A soft moan escapes Dave as you lower yourself onto him, feeling you stretch around him. He grips your hips tightly, guiding you slowly down his length. "Oh fuck, mommy," he whispers.

“You’re so big Davie” You cry out as you lower yourself down on him, feeling him inside you. Dave pants, his voice thick with lust and need. He thrusts upwards gently, meeting your downward motion, their hips slapping together in a rhythmic dance of desire.

his cock throbs inside you. His hands slide up to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, his hands hold your breasts tenderly. His hips buck slightly, pushing further into the tight embrace of your warmth. You whimper when he’s fully inside you, his throbbing cock fills your body and your brain feels empty, your only thought is him and how good he’s making you feel. You slowly grind your hips down agaisnt his own.

“Fuck, yes," Dave groans, feeling you move against him. His own hips buck up, meeting your grind with enthusiasm. He bites his lower lip, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of being inside you. "So fucking tight," he pants.

You groan as you feel him thrust up into your pussy, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room. “You feel so good baby-Oh fuck!” Every sound and noise that is being made is borderline filthy, every moan and whimper sounds almost pornographic.

Dave cries out, his hips bucking wildly as he takes you with force. His cock pistons in and out of you, driving you both towards the brink of ecstasy. Your tits bounce at his hard thrust, your moans and cries come out broken, due to the overwhelming sense of pleasure that’s he’s giving to you.

Daves hands roamover your body again, finding your nipples. He pinches and rolls them between his fingers, using them to his advantage as he continues to fuck you senseless. Dave’s hands wander back down towards your hips, his hands wander lower and grope your ass. he leans forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Dave’s glasses are foggy and crooked, barely on the tip of his nose.

You whimper and reach your hand towards his face gently taking them off and tossing them to the side of the couch. His tongue circles around your nipple, tugging gently at the sensitive flesh, his face somehow burrowing further against your tit. Feeling the warmth of your ass against his hands, the taste of your nipple in his mouth, and the tightness surrounding his cock, Dave can't hold back any longer. His hips buck up fiercely.

You moan and your eyes roll back as you feel your climax approaching “I’m gonna fucking come!” You groan. “Come for me baby, fuck-Oh Dave-“

Dave’s groans are muffled as he sucks on your tit, his feels his own orgasm taking over. He thrusts up into you, his cock pulsing as he releases his seed deep inside you. His hips buck wildly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. His hip shudder as he thrust up into you, emptying himself inside you. He pulls his mouth off and away from your tit and just rests his head against your chest.

As the wave of pleasure subsides, leaving both of you panting heavily, Dave remains connected to you, his cock still buried deep inside. He kisses your chest tenderly, his ear still pressed against your racing heartbeat.

[dekariosclan]

Dust in his eye

So in Gale’s romance, if Tav chooses the dialogue option to end the relationship, part of Gale’s heartbreaking response is this line as he visibly tears up and walks away: “You’ve actually caught me at an inopportune time. Blasted…dust in my eye. Excuse me…”

…which makes it even more heartbreaking, because it’s such an obvious lie. He’s trying to save face because he’s devastated and embarrassed, and that’s the best excuse he can come up with in the moment.

Even though Gale is one of the most emotionally open and honest characters when it comes to his feelings for Tav—sometimes going so far as to be EXCESSIVELY honest—his embarrassment and his sense of decorum make crying in front of Tav a step too far for him, so he hastily makes an excuse and hurries away.

But putting that scene aside (because I truly cannot fathom how anyone’s heart could handle breaking up with Gale), it actually got me thinking about him getting teary from happiness instead, and again, due to his sense of pride/decorum/what-have-you, trying to cover it up by saying he’s got ‘dust in his eye’—no matter how ridiculous that statement is.

And you just know that he’s the type to get teary/choked up when he’s happy. The man is so damn passionate and he loves Tav SO much. Once he and Tav are together in Waterdeep, with the weight of the world lifted from both of their shoulders, you cannot tell me his eyes won’t be wet half the time.

Just picture:

Gale and Tav strolling through Waterdeep for the first time together, arms linked, Gale gazing at Tav’s beloved face. For a moment he’s so overwhelmed he noticeably tears up: “Forgive me, love. Just some dust in my eye.” (…as they walk through the rain, with everything around them soaking wet.)

Gale cooking, giving Tav the dinner date he’d promised. He’s watching from the kitchen as Tav and Tara are talking and getting along swimmingly. Tav looks up with a smile and meets his blurry gaze, and he hastily turns away to dab at his eyes with his apron: “Apologies, I seem to have gotten dust in my eye…” (…as he stands in a kitchen full of steam.)

Tav held fast in Gale’s arms, head resting on the wizard’s chest, fully relaxed, slowly drifting in and out of sleep. Gale’s reverently running his fingers through Tav’s hair, over their face, and along the scars picked up from their many battles. When Tav suddenly wakes, blinking as they try to focus on Gale’s face, he quickly swipes the back of his hand over his eyes: “A moment, love—dust in my eye…” (…as they are both soaking in the bath.)

Gale and Tav clasping hands as the cleric’s speech gets close to the point in the ceremony where they will officially be wed. Gale’s managed to hold it together through his lengthy (and very descriptive) vows, but now he’s got tears not just glistening in his eyes, but actively brimming and spilling over; his lower lip is trembling. Tav smiles, squeezing his hands, leaning in close. “I know it’s just dust in your eye,” Tav whispers lovingly, wanting to spare him any embarrassment. (…and for once, given their location, it IS possible.) But Gale shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs, gazing joyfully at Tav through his completely blurred vision. “Not this time.”

[b0r3dtod3ath]

hi!!! could i pls req alex x reader,, where the reader is a model and dating alex but the other drivers (besides george&logan) don’t know. so when she comes to a race and is in the williams garage,, all the drivers are hitting on her and trying to get w her but when they try to get alex’s help, he tells them she’s his gf but they don’t believe him until someone walks in on them or smth idk take whatever creative liberties u want!! thankuu <3

warnings: fem!reader; mention of a razor (shaving); 

a/n: omg i love this request! i had so much fun writing it. i also included a kinda vice-versa situation where the reader brings alex to work. i hope you like it!

word count: 1.5k

You and Alex have been dating for a few months now and with your hectic schedules you made most out of your time together. That often involves spending time even if one person is busy and the other is free. One time he accompanied you during a fashion week. Not only to spend time with you but also to truly understand your work and the world you live in.

One thing Alex hadn’t expected was that the week was packed with an enormous amount of events. He didn’t mind it as you took him everywhere and he got to see you backstage as well as on the runway. He loved to see you interact with your friends and co-workers and he was more than happy each time you introduced him as your boyfriend. 

As he exited the bathroom of your hotel room his eyes witnessed a heart squeezing scene. You were sprawled out on the bed with your eyes closed, tired after a particularly harsh day of fittings, rehearsals and shows. You weren’t sleeping, he could see it. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. You nodded weakly, "Just tired. I need to shave my legs for tomorrow. Give me a moment and I will stand up”. Alex hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath "I'll do it”. You quickly opened your eyes, looking at him with a surprised face "You don't have to, just give me a moment”. “I want to,” he said and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you at the edge of the bathtub. He grabbed your razor and a can of shaving cream. You admired him as he focused-working slowly, with his hands steady, ensuring he didn't miss a spot or hurt you. As he rinsed the razor under the warm water, Alex felt an appreciation for the small, often overlooked tasks that were a part of your job. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said, looking up at you with eyes full of affection. You smiled back with gratitude. "Thank you, Alex. It means a lot”.

“Okay, we are going to the Versace show. When we get there, I immediately need to go to the restroom and wash all of this hair gel off.” you said looking at your calendar. You two sat at the backseat of a cab. “You know, If they put something like this on you they should also bother to take it off.” he said and gently knocked on the hard shell on your head, causing you to giggle. 

The small restroom was crowded, but you managed to find a spot by the sink. You rolled up your sleeves and turned on the faucet, testing the temperature with your fingers. Just as you bent over to wet your hair, Alex appeared next to you after dropping off your things and letting the coordinator know where you were. He helped you get the shampoo in more hard to reach spots, his fingers massaging your scalp with a tenderness that made your heart swell. Rinsing out the shampoo, Alex made sure every bit of gel was gone. He then squeezed out the excess water and grabbed a towel he had found earlier. “Thank you” you kissed him on the cheek, grabbed his hand and headed towards the makeup station. You loved how he was trying to make a conversation with people that worked around you. He was asking various questions and cracking jokes with the makeup artists. “You have to stop. You're making her giggle, her concealer will crease” one of them said laughing at something he had said. 

After the show, just as you were about to leave, your friend Airdropped you a few pictures. You and Alex washing your hair in the sink, Alex making everyone around laugh and him admiring you as you walked down the runway. The message had a little note as well: Don’t worry. I won’t send it anywhere. I thought you two would like these : )

On the plane on your way back, you two were exhausted but happy. Alex looked at you, his heart swelling with pride. “You know,” he began, his serious tone capturing your attention. “I have always respected what you do, but seeing it up close, every detail, the good and the bad… I have a whole new level of admiration for you”. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body in contrast to the cold, dry air. “It’s not always glamorous,” you admitted “But having you here, helping me through it... it means everything”. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “You’re incredible, Love. And I’ll always be here to support you”. You let out a satisfied hum. “So.. When will you take me to your work?” you asked, smiling from ear to ear. 

The sun shone brightly over the Silverstone Circuit, where the roar of engines and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. You arrived early, your presence immediately turning heads. You had a simple but nice outfit styled with a pair of sunglasses and some jewelry. Entering through the gates you see a text from Alex saying that he is busy with a meeting for a few minutes longer than expected and asking if you are fine walking by yourself. Don’t worry, I’m gonna manage. If I need help I will text you, you replied and headed towards him. You took your time walking there, you looked around a bit and observed the preparations for the race. As you made your way to the Williams garage, the other drivers couldn't help but notice you. Lando and Carlos were the first to approach you, their curiosity piqued. “Hey there, I’m Lando” they appeared out of nowhere, causing you to chuckle. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N” you introduced yourself. "Are you new here?" Carlos asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Sort of," you replied with a playful smile. "I'm here to support a friend”. "Well, if you need a tour or anything, feel free to ask us," Lando offered, his smile genuine. As the two of them tried to impress you with their charm, you couldn't help but to find it incredibly funny. They had no idea you were already taken. You excused herself politely, heading towards the Williams garage where Alex was busy with pre-race preparations. 

As you were entering you noticed two familiar faces. “Hi! Great to finally see you here!” said George and offered you a greeting hug. “Hi, boys. Haven’t seen you in a while” you say as you pull Logan into a hug "Alex will be thrilled you're here” he says. As the three of you chatted, the two other drivers continued to hover around the garage, trying to piece together who were you here for. 

Finally, you made eye contact with Alex from across the garage. A wide grin spread across his face as he made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "Hey, you," he murmured. "Hey, yourself," you replied, smiling up at him. Lando and Carlos exchanged glances, feeling even more confused than before and walked up to you. "Ah, Alex! We were just looking for your lovely friend” Carlos said, grinning. Alex chuckled, slipping a hand around your waist in an almost possessive way “Well, I hope you didn’t scare my girlfriend because you two look suspicious”. The drivers looked stunned, their eyes widening. “Wait, girlfriend?” Carlos glanced between you and Alex as if he couldn’t believe it. Lando laughed “Nice one, mate. You almost had us there”. Alex shrugged, unbothered "Believe what you want," he said before heading off to continue his preparations.

The drivers resumed their attempts to impress you, completely ignoring Alex's statement. You found the whole situation hilarious, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they realized the truth.

Later, as the beginning of the race was getting closer and closer, you slipped away to find Alex. You wanted to wish him good luck. "Hey, beautiful," he said, pulling you into an affectionate kiss that you returned with even more passion as your hands found his hair and gently tugged on it. His hands made their way down your back. Just as you were about to break the kiss, Carlos walked in, catching the sight of the intimate moment. He froze, his eyes widening in surprise, and he quickly turned on his heel, desperate to find Lando. 

"Guys, you won't believe this," Carlos said, fully convinced "Alex wasn’t joking. She is really his girlfriend! They're definitely together.". “No shit, genius,” George whispered. Lando barely believed it but with a dose of details from his friends he erupted in laughter, finally accepting the truth. 

After the race Lando made his way to Alex. “Congrats”. He thought he was referring to him finishing in points. “She’s way out of your league, I don’t know how you managed to convince her”. The Brit patted his friend’s back and walked away. “Hey! What was that supposed to mean?”. 

June 17, 2024

[justlemmeadoreyou]

meet-cute

okayyyy so here is something short n shitty on these new pics that my brain whipped up! tell me if you like this!

words: 1.3k~ish

warnings: flirting, fluff.

***

You loved coming out to this little nook to capture scenes of the city on canvas. Today felt especially inspiring with the beautiful spring weather.

You begin laying out your brushes and squeezing out vibrant shades of paint onto your palette. Losing yourself in the simple motions, you barely notice the passersby around you. That is, until a very familiar voice pipes up from behind.

"Excuse me, miss? Your paintings are absolutely lovely."

You freeze, brush hovering in the air. No, it couldn't be... Slowly, you turn around and your jaw drops. There, flashing his signature dimpled grin, stands Harry Styles himself. Your ultimate celebrity crush in the flesh, mere feet away.

"H-Harry? Harry Styles?" you stammer out, eyes wide.

He chuckles softly. "The one and only. I'm out on a morning stroll and I couldn't help but stop to admire your work. You've got a brilliant talent there."

Your cheeks flush bright pink. "Oh my gosh, thank you! You're—you're really here. I can't believe it!" 

Trying not to completely fangirl and scare him off, you take a deep breath to collect yourself. Harry Styles is complimenting your art. This is actually happening.

"Sorry, I'm just—wow, I'm such a huge fan of yours. Your music means so much to me."

He smiles warmly. "I'm glad you enjoy it, love. Say, would you maybe be interested in doing a little commission for me? Painting my portrait?"

You nearly drop your palette right then and there. "You want me to paint you? Like, really?"

"If you're up for it, yeah! I'd be honoured."

Nodding fervently, you scramble to set up a fresh canvas on your easel. "Yes, absolutely! I'd love to! Just...just tell me how you'd like to pose." 

As Harry arranges himself into a relaxed seated position, you take a moment to study his striking features. From the soft chestnut curls framing his face to those entrancing emerald eyes, he is perfect subject material. Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest.

"Okay, perfect, just like that. Stay right there and I'll get started!"

You take a steadying breath before putting brush to canvas, carefully mapping out Harry's form in broad strokes. The two of you fall into an easy back-and-forth conversation as you work, chatting about everything from his latest album to your shared hometown.

"I've gotta say, your Cheshire accent is pretty damn charming," Harry remarks at one point with a playful wink.

You giggle shyly. "Why thank you, kind sir. Yours isn't too bad either."

Harry throws back his head with a deep, raspy chuckle that has your toes curling in your shoes. "Is that so, darling? Well in that case..." He leans in close enough for you to smell his intoxicating cologne, voice lowering to a sultry murmur. "Perhaps later you'll allow me to read you a bedtime story?"

"Harry!" you gasp in flustered exasperation, half-heartedly swatting his arm as he cackles victoriously. The two of you are so caught up in your playful banter that you barely notice the small crowd starting to gather, whispering and snapping photos as word spreads that the one and only Harry Styles is getting his portrait done.

Harry waves jovially at his fans but remains focused on you, keeping up the easy banter.

"How's it looking over there, Picasso? Doing me justice?"

Glancing up, you smirk. "Well, it's hard to improve upon perfection, but I'm giving it my best shot."

He smiles, and swears he felt his heart skip a beat at your words. "Such flattery! And here I thought you were just a pretty face with those big doe eyes."

You roll said eyes dramatically as your cheeks flush. "Oh, stop trying to put me off, you flirt!"

Over the next little while, you alternate between studying Harry's striking features with lazer-like intensity and flushing furiously whenever he catches you staring. At one point, he pointedly clears his throat.

"You know, most artists usually start on the face when doing portraits," he remarks with a teasing lilt.

Cheeks flaming again, you force your gaze away from the rippling muscles of his forearms where you'd been fixated like a teenager. "Hush you, I'm simply taking my time with the background work first."

"If you say so," he chuckles but obediently returns to stillness, allowing you to slowly build up brushstrokes on the canvas.

Time seems to fly by as your brush strokes bring Harry's image vibrantly to life on the canvas. The swarm of onlookers grows steadily bigger, phones clicking away to document the scene. Several times you have to politely ask people not to get too close and obstruct your view.

With one last few delicate strokes to bring out the shine in Harry's eyes, you finally lean back with a satisfied smile.

"Well, Mr. Styles...what do you think?"

Harry rises from his pose and steps over to admire your handiwork, lips parting in an impressed grin.

"Wow...Y/N, this is incredible! You captured me perfectly!"

You beam proudly, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his praise. "I had some pretty gorgeous subject matter to work with."

Chuckling, Harry carefully plucks the canvas from the easel. "You've definitely earned your payment and then some. Name your price, love."

After some back-and-forth haggling that has the crowd laughing, Harry hands over a generous sum of cash and pulls you in for a warm hug.

"Truly, thank you for this. I'll cherish it forever!"

You bite your lip shyly as he pulls away. "You're more than welcome. Can't say I mind immortalizing that handsome face on canvas."

Harry tosses you one last wink before turning to greet his clamoring fans, the sea of people quickly engulfing him and carrying him off down the street.

As he's shuffled away, Harry feels a pang of disappointment that he didn't get a chance to ask for your number or make plans to see you again. He spent the whole time shamelessly flirting and getting flustered by your adorable blushes and quips. Now he may never get the opportunity to take you out on an actual date.

Once he's finally escorted into his awaiting car, Harry lets out a frustrated huff and runs a hand through his tousled hair. He'd been so wrapped up in your captivating presence that he didn't even think to get your contact information before being mobbed. Rookie mistake.

"Stupid, stupid," he mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Just as he's resigning himself to having let a potential connection slip through his fingers, something catches Harry's eye. He glances down at the canvas you had been painting him on, safely tucked onto the seat beside him, and a slow smile spreads across his face.

There, just peeking out from the backside wrapped around the frame, is a scribbled set of numbers. Hurriedly, Harry flips over the painting to inspect further. He lets out a delighted laugh at what he finds.

It's a phone number! Trailing below it in your handwriting are the words "In case you need your portrait updated ;) -Y/N"

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[imaginespazzi]

Part 7: In All My Victories

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)

(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Words: 6.5K

TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage. 

It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige. 

Azzi had asked her to stay over.

Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away. 

And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept. 

Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day. 

It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again. 

She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other. 

Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him. 

“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman. 

“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”

Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”

“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”

She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead. 

“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”

Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”

“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”

“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline. 

“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”

“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream

“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight. 

“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”

“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”

“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?” 

Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.

And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”

“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”

Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”

“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles. 

Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”

“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”

“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”

Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”

“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”

Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”

Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”

***

Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like. 

 “Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”

Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her. 

“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child. 

Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”

“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same. 

“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”

“That obvious?” Paige blushes. 

Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”

Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”

Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”

“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose. 

“Peanut butter?”

“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.

“Salted caramel crunch?” 

“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies. 

“Stephie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you one of each?”

And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face. 

“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight. 

“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”

Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”

“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”

And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”

***

“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household. 

“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek. 

“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”

“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth. 

Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”

“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”

“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”

“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly. 

Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”

“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare. 

“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand. 

“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee. 

“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”

“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly. 

“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence. 

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”

“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”

They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe. 

They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look. 

“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?” 

“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”

“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’

“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige. 

“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”

“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands. 

“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently. 

And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”

“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”

Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”

“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen. 

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”

“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.

“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place. 

“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”

Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”

“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”

“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly. 

“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”

“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”

“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth. 

“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah. 

“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation. 

Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”

“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs. 

“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”

Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”

“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”

Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin. 

“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other. 

“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”

“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”

Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.

“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”

Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”

“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”

***

August 2028

USA 68         France 64

The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries,  had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound. 

The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock. 

And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in. 

But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again. 

“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue. 

Azzi. 

Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us. 

Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face. 

“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”

“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”

“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin. 

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”

This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them. 

“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”

Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”

“Olivia,” Paige hisses. 

“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”

***

The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell. 

“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife. 

“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly. 

“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”

“You’re the one who poked her first-”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests. 

“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”

“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”

“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes. 

“What-”

“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”

“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.

“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”

Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place. 

And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again. 

***

USA 102         Australia 73 

Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you. 

Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too. 

But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here. 

Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings. 

The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal. 

Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.

As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too. 

“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”

“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”

And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.

[dokries]

seventeen when their partner is lovey dovey with them on camera

pairing: seventeen x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, idol!au (for both the members and reader)

word count: 2.3k

warnings: the public is okay with the relationships, all of seventeen is down bad, reader is kinda bold? not too much though, kisses and hand holding, hoshi says he’s a tiger like normal, mingyu and dino are bullied also like normal

author note: thank you so much for requesting, sweet anon ‎♡ i kinda got off track when it came to the request…so there’s little scenarios for each member and i hope that’s okay! i just had a little fun <3 lots of love and enjoy reading :>

masterlist

seungcheol (s.coups)

❧ if you were asked about your relationship with him and what you like about his personality, he would definitely try to keep a poker face (you are live after all) but fail very badly at it because the heart eyes he’s making at you are way too obvious, and the huge grin on his face that says “yeah, this is my partner.” isn’t helping.

❧ if the other members are near, they’d all roll their eyes and groan at how down bad the leader is and you’d just giggle.

❧ eventually, either you or someone else would have to say his name a few times before he remembers you’re on camera and he holds your hands in his as he whispers a promise of showering you with love later before answering whatever question was thrown at him.

❧ of course, he holds up his end of the deal he made you by giving you a tight hug when the shoot's over and peppers your face with kisses, all giddy over the fact that you said you loved him even if your relationship has been public for a while.

❧ “do you actually mean what you said earlier? because i meant every single word i said about you.”

jeonghan

❧ he’d share a glance with you and look away with a smile when you giggle and lean against his shoulder when someone said something funny.

❧ would be nonchalant about it, going back to whatever he was talking about with the only difference being a small smirk on his face that turns into a little bit of a smile when you interlock hands with him secretly.

❧ seungkwan would probably sigh, having seen this type of thing way too often at home, glaring at jeonghan to get his act together (as if jeonghan doesn't seem to be the most composed he possibly can be other than the slight redness to his ears because of how open you’re being)

❧ if he’s playing a game and you come up to even just smile at him, he would let out a sigh before gently touching the small of your back to move you away from him, whispering about how he needs to win and you’re not helping.

❧ “listen, i love you but you’re distracting me so you need to be over here. i need to win this skincare set for both of us–i mean, me and seungkwan of course! right, seungkwan?” (seungkwan’s not buying it)

jisoo (joshua)

❧ if you were walking from one location to another on set and grabbed his hand, swinging it as you walked, he would totally give you one of his signature eye smiles before looking around for any cameras nearby.

❧ if he couldn’t find any, he would quickly place a small kiss on your cheek, the thrill of potentially being caught causing the two of you to giggle. (in fact, you are caught, and caratland loves how sweet the two of you are once they see it in a behind the scenes clip, even if it’s not completely clear)

❧ if he does find a cameraperson coming up behind you, he would totally try to get their attention and raise your intertwined hands up and give a satisfied nod before looking at you with a big grin.

❧ when you squeeze his hand to get his attention on you, and not the camera when he starts talking about the scenery around the two of you (it’s a hallway), his gaze immediately turns to you, complete with a soft “hm?” and a head tilt. when you only smile, he chuckles softly before turning back to the camera and gives you a squeeze back.

❧ “hey, i saw no cameras so it should be okay! either way, the fans already know so you don’t need to worry.”

junhui (jun)

❧ even if you just pat his back encouragingly as he introduces himself on a variety show, he’ll either pause before continuing shortly after or stutter slightly on his words.

❧ would have that adorable laugh where his entire body laughs with him and smiles shyly as you hold his hand lightly, letting him know that you can let go if he wants you to (he would never).

❧ honestly, he doesn’t know what’s going on half the time and keeps whispering and asking what he needs to do in your ears, and when he gets caught by the other people on the show, he only smiles sheepishly, not wanting to admit it’s because he’s maybe a bit distracted by your smile in general, so he keeps stealing glances in your direction instead of paying attention.

❧ “oh, i’m sorry, what did you just say? i didn’t get the question.”

soonyoung (hoshi)

❧ he would totally put his head on top of yours if you leaned against him, tired after a game of futsal that took more out of you than you thought it would. the two of you would be sitting on the side of the turf, watching the others play, cheering for whichever team you liked better and soonyoung would play with your hands in the meantime.

❧ if you seemed genuinely exhausted, he would be the first one there to ask if you needed anything at all, and if your response was just to be with him, he would giggle before making sure the camera caught that (he needs to brag about his adorable partner, after all) and give you a hug before exclaiming about how sweaty you are while laughing so you know he’s just joking.

❧ “well, if you just need me…i’ll use all my tiger power to make sure you feel better! you can definitely trust me!”

wonwoo

❧ if you suddenly asked for his hand, he would look at you confused before giving it to you in a daze. once you keep a death grip on his hand, he slowly understands what you meant and nods to himself once before giving you a curt look as well.

❧ in general, he’s mostly calm when he’s around you but if you call him cute, he may just stop functioning for a few seconds before continuing with whatever he’s doing.

❧ usually doesn’t do skinship in general so when you initiate it, especially during a live broadcast, he’s genuinely confused and his ears heat up (depending on the setting, he may even let out a little giggle despite himself).

❧ “what are you—oh. … um, right, so about this question—”

jihoon (woozi)

❧ you leaning on his shoulder is more than enough for him to turn red because you're being so…open. of course, you usually do initiate skinship with him anyway by giving him a hug or a kiss on the cheek when he’s working in the studio but on camera, he feels a little bit embarrassed by how easily he gets red because of your fingers gently touching his in an attempt to hold them.

❧ shies away from you once someone else brings up the colour of his cheeks and it gets even more noticeable, which is the opposite effect he wants it to have. when you pout at him moving away, he just about melts back into your arms silently, secretly hating how much control you have over him (he really isn’t bothered by it as much as he probably should be).

❧ he’s so awkward after, and everyone just needs to bring up the way his face is tinted red to tease him on one of the rare occasions they can.

❧ “no, it’s just the lighting…i should move spots so it doesn’t seem like i'm too hot or something.”

seokmin (dokyeom)

❧ you’re on going seventeen and during a calm shooting—or as much as it’ll get when you’re with mostly hyperactive men and their partners—the staff start showing videos of the members’ partners where they each share something they love about their respective member, and you grab seokmin’s hand just before it’s his turn to see the video you had shot separately a few days before—it’s in age order, so you’re both expecting it when the screen turns black before your smiling face shows up.

❧ he’d either get super shy (by newjeans) and hide his face in your shoulder as he hears you praise him over and over again with a huge grin on your face, one that’s infectious to everyone around the two of you or he’d gasp and squeal like an anime school girl, his head whipping from the actual you to the on screen version as he slowly gets more red, especially when you look at the camera and make a heart with your arms over your head and say “doahae!”

❧ eventually, seokmin relaxes, leaning into your side calmly once his turn to get praised is over and make small comments or hype up the remaining younger members as his hand squeezes yours with a quiet thanks.

❧ also, you’re getting a huge hug as soon as he can give one to you. you have no choice in the matter (well, you do; seokmin would never force you into anything).

❧ “oh, sweetie…you’re too nice. doahae to you too!” (he looks like :D with a big grin on his face)

mingyu

❧ although this obviously depends on context, he’d definitely either be super cocky or giggly. there is no in between when it comes to you. 

❧ if it’s something similar to what just happened for seokmin, mingyu would be smirking, your praises fuelling his ego more than what’s needed (according to the other members, at least.) 

❧ would shrug and smile before hugging you for everything you’ve said about him, it being mostly about how much he cares for you. instead of cheering him on, his friends choose to boo him, and he frowns immediately, snuggling closer to you for support.

❧ “you’re the only one i can trust…i stopped believing in them a long time ago.” (when you say he does look a little silly, he starts to sulk, pushing you away slightly with a sigh) “you’re all traitors.”

minghao (the8)

❧ minghao is not phased by you caressing his hand as the two of you listen to game rules for what the programs are forcing you to play. like honestly, he smoothly takes your other hand in his like it’s nothing on camera, and you can’t help but swoon in your head. 

❧ despite this confidence that stems from the comfortable relationship the two of you have, he still can get a little flustered but he would show it off camera. 

❧ as soon as the staff lets everyone take a break in between filming, he looks over at you and giggles, squeezing your hand that hasn’t moved from its spot in his own hands, finally letting himself be off guard.

❧ alternatively, if you say something in chinese, like whisper bǎo bèi (baby) into his ear as you pass by him, he’d stumble on his own feet and sputter, even if you say it often outside of the public eye. he immediately turns red and can’t help but smile before clearing his throat in an effort to return to his normal composed self.

❧ of course, this wouldn’t be complete without the other members and people teasing minghao throughout the shoot, and his ears staying red really doesn’t help his case as he tries to gaslight convince everyone that nothing happened. 

❧ “what? no, no, you’ve got it all wrong–i’m perfectly fine! do you not see my face right now? i literally look the same as normal. be quiet, seungkwan.”

seungkwan

❧ speaking of seungkwan, this guy is somehow simultaneously smug and shy at the same time. he’d huff out a laugh if you complimented him with the smile on your face that he adores but his face would be red nonetheless. 

❧ if you kept going with your compliments—because there really is a lot you can talk about when it comes to him—he would wave it off with a “pshh stop it” before giggling and abruptly stopping to smack your shoulder because he’s flustered by you being so bold (though you’re really not; it’s just the camera being there changes things for him)

❧ despite the way he acts, he would smile in secret when he thinks no one is watching him before putting on a front when someone notices. 

❧ once they shoot ends or you get a break, he gives you a hug as soon as he can, and thanks you for the love you always show him. 

❧ “hey, i’m sorry for hitting you, i was just too…shy to do anything else. i love you lots, okay? you’re not allowed to forget it.” 

hansol (vernon)

❧ this guy is so hard to fluster, and i’m not even joking. 

❧ almost anything you do, whether it be compliments or a hug, will get you a series of nods before a high five in some cases.

❧ of course, you both call each other “dude” and “bro” because come on, it’s hansol vernon chwe. 

❧ the most you can probably get from him is his ears turning red after you aggressively compliment him or snuggle up to him for a while; that stuff means more to him then he’ll let on.

❧ however most of the time it’s just “thanks dude, appreciate it.” (i love him for it)

chan (dino)

❧ slightly similar to seungkwan because he’ll smile and chuckle with an “oh my god, stop it!” (he doesn’t want you to stop, ever.)

❧ he absolutely adores you and would look at you with the same look he had for seungcheol in that one clip, his eyes fond after you compliment him. 

❧ he’s also the type to give it back to you, saying that you’re much better than him, even if it’s not true. 

❧ however, we all know seventeen is out to get lee chan, and he would deadpan as soon as his members (aka seungkwan) starts booing him, snuggling closer to you instead for physical and moral support while pointing at his other members with a huff.

❧ “even if you all don’t love me, i know they do! and that’s all that matters.” (queue the fond look in his eyes again)

❧ (once you give him a kiss on the forehead as a sort of comfort, he would totally stick his tongue out at the members, your actions only proving the point he makes.)

[machveil]

Trying not to think about Simon 'Always Doing Acts of Service and Caring for Others Silently' Ghost Riley forgetting to care for himself as much, and how it would probably touch a part of his heart he thought wasn't there anymore if someone did the same for him. Something simple, like just a new jacket after his old one got wrecked from wear and tear, that's thick and durable but soft and comfortable, a nice weight on his shoulders but doesn't make him sweat, resting over his chair. Or after a long day of work where he's dragging himself along, finding a meal already made for him sitting in the fridge, something actually cooked and seasoned the way he likes so he doesn't have to think about cooking or go to bed on an empty stomach. Idk, this has been rattling around in my brain all day and I needed to get it out, sorry if this is weird! Also really like your art and writing, congrats on the 1k, you deserve it and so much more!

anon I’m smooching your big, beautiful brain (I wrote this in one sitting, hope it’s not terrible lol)

Simon Riley is a man of action - Ghost, the most literal manifestation of serving. Ghost follows and gives orders to assure his team, his friends, make it home safe at the end of a deployment. as a Lieutenant, Simon wouldn’t say it out loud, but he cares so deeply for his team. Task Force 141 is a second home to him, more so the people, and thus makes it his job to protect them

but Simon Riley is also a man of action off duty - a civilian who’s heart rests in your hands. loyal as a dog, Simon would do anything for you. a man of action, he’ll insist you relax, you shouldn’t lift a finger for something small. anything Simon can do in your stead he will. because, while his team is a second home, his true home is you

but Simon, stubborn and strong as he is, gets tired. front door clicking shut, mask already being tugged off, his muscles are tense and sore after a long day. dirty blond hair messy and eyes half lidded with exhaustion, he’s still only got one thing on his mind - to serve you and make you happy. he already planned on trudging into the kitchen to make dinner, something simple but filling. he pauses when he smells food already though

kicking his boots off, worn and dirty, he makes his way to the little kitchen around the corner. cracking a small, barely there smile at the sight in front of him. you, moving about the kitchen. the lights a little dim - he’d change the lightbulb later, and there you are, cooking a meal. one step ahead of him, and he soaks in the domestic scene. a part of him wants to step in, tell you you’ve done enough and he’ll finish everything off… but he doesn’t have the heart to disrupt this cozy, intimate moment

it’s only when you see him does he approach, hands a touch too rough and calloused - he’s sure you’ll make him moisturize later. “Smells nice, lovie.”, he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. eyes fluttering shut as he holds your hands, a small grin tugs at his lips, “S‘pose the food smells good too.”. he relishes in the laugh that leaves you, the way you squeeze his hands. he moves to press a kiss to your jaw, slightly crooked nose nudging against you as his hands wander to your hips - touch featherlight, as if handling you any rougher might shatter you

there’s a reluctance in his heart as he lets go of you, scoffing when you tell him to go sit down. “Bossy little thing.”, he mumbles, voice lighthearted as he leans back against a counter. he stays there for just a moment, one last glance at you happily cooking - cooking for him. it melts his heart knowing that you’re just a loyal as him, that you’d both run to the ends of the Earth for each other

he’s content to finally relax, leaving the kitchen to slump against a chair in the small dining room. head tilted back a little as he rolls his shoulders, his hands move to idly take his belt off - he’d change later, a hot shower after dinner always made him feel better. maybe he’d convince you to join him, better yet— maybe he’d convince himself to indulge in a hot bath instead. and when you join him at the table, sitting down next to him with a full plate for him, Simon feels butterflies in his stomach

he loves eating with you, sharing a meal and letting his guard down. gaze smitten as he listens to you recount your day, breathing steady as he hums. and when everything is done, stubborn man, he’ll take the dishes to the kitchen. as much as he’d like to wash them straight away, he settles for leaving them in the sink tonight. soon enough he’s sweeping you up in his arms - no matter how roughed up and sore he is, he always finds the strength to carry you. he’ll ignore any protest that, “Simon! I can walk—“, a gruff chuckle rumbling in his chest, “Know that, love, but I can carry you just fine.”

and from then on, Simon feels like he’s floating. in a dreamlike state, he sets you down on the cool bathroom floor, feet making contact with tile. gently thumbing at your hips, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, “Thank you.”. soft spoken words contrasting his gravely voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek - lips a little chapped, but he’s never heard you complain about them

and when you help each other slowly strip, the bathroom filling with mist like steam, he feels the tension in his muscles give. he puts up a little fight, grumbled words, when you insist on sudsing him up. he’s all bark though, when he feels you rub his aching shoulders he feels like he could never muster up any bite ever agiain. comfortable and turning to putty in your hands, he’ll happily let you mould him into a soft, gentle man

he’ll lazily return the favor, rough hands lathered in your body wash. content. feeling you under his palms, warm skin dotted with beads of water and bubbles, Simon’s content. a warmth in his chest that he’s still not used to. the simple intimacy of washing away the sweat and filth from the day, it makes Simon feel like a new man - and to wash you? he’s happy you feel safe enough, that you trust him, to handle you so carefully

and at the end of the night, cleaned from the dirt of his daily life, Simon settles in bed with you. all gentle touches and soft, murmured praise - you did so good for him today. he fights the back of his mind off, you’ve taught him better than to believe those gnawing words. Simon Riley deserves this. a phrase you carved into his heart, long since settled at the forefront of his mind. and as he holds you to his chest, warm hand on the small of your back, he sighs deeply…

a man of action deserves rest

[haikyu-mp4]

A middle blocker’s pride

word count; 1375 – f!reader

Life can be difficult. Accepting that your brother was moving to Paris and leaving you behind to handle your last year in high school alone was difficult. Getting into university and managing that along with a part-time job was difficult. Going on terrible dates in an attempt to follow the herd and find a mediocre partner was difficult.

But dating Suna Rintaro was easy.

He didn’t put that much energy into anything, except now and then when he made sure you knew he loved you. This year, that included two tickets for a romantic trip to Paris for your summer holidays. You had time off school and he had time off from the team, and you were especially thrilled because that location meant you could see your dearest brother again and introduce him to the love of your life.

Rintaro knew who your brother was, and he had told you that they played against each other once or twice in high school. You hadn’t been very into the volleyball scene and didn’t make it to most of the games, but you had laughed heartily at how Rintaro described Tendo Satori’s frustrating tactics.

Concerning that, you had called your brother and detailed exactly who you were in a relationship with, and he had revealed that he and Rintaro were rivals, seemingly destined to meet again but this time through you. You had laughed at that too, assuming it was just their competitiveness speaking.

But now you stood in front of the door to Satori’s apartment in Paris, hand-in-hand with Rintaro who held a large bouquet for the host, and you’re beginning to think that your boyfriend is putting a lot of energy into this.

Satori opened the door and you threw your arms up for a giant bear hug. “Satoriiiiii!” you cheered, laughing as he squeezed you before putting you back down.

“Miracle girl, and you-” Satori gasped dramatically when he finally made eye contact with a half-smiling Rintaro. “So we meet again,” he added like some Disney villain.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you under more, uhh-” Rintaro glanced at you and back at your brother. “pleasant circumstances.” He held out the flowers as well, hoping to silently hand them over.

“For me?” Satori asked as he ushered you inside the apartment before closing the door and engaging on a mission for a flower vase. “I see you’re charming your way into both Tendos’ hearts, but I must disappoint you. I can not steal you away from my dearest sister when she is so smitten with you.”

Rintaro laughed, a bit awkwardly you must admit, but still followed along into the kitchen. “Here I thought I scored a two for one,” he joked, and let me tell you, Satori cackled at this.

“Idiots. And don’t tell him I’m smitten! It’ll just go to his head,” you complained. Satori laughed as he stuffed the flowers in a much too plain vase for your taste, but it’s all he had for now. Satori scrunched his nose at you before going back to the food that was just simmering.

“I never really asked, how did the two of you meet?” Satori asked.

You and Rintaro looked at each other, and you had no choice but to tell the story yourself when you saw his smirk if only to ensure no unnecessary details were added or even made up. “I’ll tell you, it was quite the meet-cute.”

During your second month in university, you went to a volleyball game on a failed first date and that man was just plain nasty. When the game ended he kept whispering in your ear about taking you home to his place with a hand clutching your thigh, not particularly seducing when his breath could stink up the whole room. You excused yourself to the bathroom in a nervous rush, and as you tried to escape from him, you ran into Suna.

He looked up from his phone as you stumbled back a bit, and his eyes widened just a smidge when you mouthed ‘help’. You got nervous as his face seemed to stay apathetic until your date grabbed your arm from behind you and he finally stepped in.

Suna switched to a glare and directed it at your date. “So this is the man you’re trying to make me jealous with?” he said, and you tried your hardest not to focus on how attractive his voice was. Instead, you looked between the two a bit nervously. Suna seemed to notice your lack of following up. “You know I still love you,” he said and looked back at you.

You took a deep breath and turned to your date. “I’m sorry, I realise now that I’m still in love with him too.” It was said so robotically that Suna could swear he had never seen a worse actor in his life.

Thankfully, your date looked Suna up and down and decided it wasn’t worth it, scoffing before leaving you alone. “You’re not hot enough for this.”

You let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes, not yet noticing Suna’s smug grin. “I think you’re pretty hot, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“So basically, it was love at first sight,” you concluded, giggling as Rintaro started pushing your arm in protest.

Satori couldn’t deny the ache in his heart when you looked at Rintaro with the same adoration you used to hold for him, but it was accompanied by warmth as he knew you were loved the way you should be. He sighed dreamily at the end of the story, “Ahh, young love.” He finally moved the pots with the finished food over to the dining table, placing them on the coasters. It smelled pretty good, but you were more excited for the dessert.

You and Rin sat on one side of the table while Satori sat on the other, and Rintaro struggled with getting into the conversation. As he watched Satori tell stories about his life in Paris, he thought back to their previous meeting.

Suna breathed out sharply at the distant voice of the opposite team’s middle blocker, who was singing his heart out about crushing their spirits and breaking their hearts. Osamu laughed at his teammate, patting his shoulder harshly. “Letting him get to ya, Sunarin?”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he turned towards the redhead, also realising they were walking back on the court now. “A weirdo like that? Never.”

When Tendo rotated in front of him next, Rintaro scowled at the sight. He was dancing around after blocking their spike as if that was some great achievement. Suna could probably have played a better decoy for that one, but he found himself more annoyed with Atsumu for letting the guess-monster toy with their spikers.

So when he finally had the ball set for him, he used his classic tactics to twist and shove it right down on their side, not giving Tendo a chance to stuff it. As they landed back on their feet, they were face to face and the redhead squinted when Suna smirked. “You annoy me.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Now, as the three of you were only halfway through your dinner because you kept laughing and yapping away, Rintaro finally let a soft smile fall on his lips. When you were with your brother, you seemed so… like yourself. It made him genuinely happy watching the two of you joke around, and he thought, maybe people who let themselves be a little weird are better off in the end.

So he jumped right into the conversation by adding onto one of Satori’s jokes, and the other man cackled again and pointed at Rintaro in something akin to validation. A warmth enveloped him when your hand found his on the table, rubbing your thumb over his skin and looking to the side at him with the warmest smile he ever received. He couldn’t help himself and leaned in for a quick kiss, making Satori pretend to gag before assuring you he was just joking. Rintaro laughed before holding up a napkin to cover you as he went in for a second one.

This wasn’t such a bad way to spend his energy.

masterlist

[sxcretricciardo]

my everything

The roar of engines filled the air as the Formula 1 cars zoomed around the track at breathtaking speeds. Y/N, one of the few female drivers in the sport, was in a fierce battle for the lead with none other than her boyfriend, Carlos Sainz. On the track, they were fierce rivals, pushing each other to the limit, but off the track, they were the most admired couple in the paddock, their chemistry undeniable.

As the race progressed, the intensity grew. Y/N was closing in on Carlos, her focus razor-sharp. Suddenly, in a heart-stopping moment, her car lost control at high speed, veering off the track and slamming into the barriers. Flames erupted from the wreckage, and the race was immediately red-flagged. The sight of the burning car sent a chill down Carlos' spine.

"Carlos, are you okay?" his race engineer's voice crackled over the radio.

"Is she out? Is she okay?" Carlos's voice was strained with panic, his heart racing faster than ever. He didn't care about the race; he just needed to know she was safe.

The marshals and medical team were quick to respond, extinguishing the flames and reaching the car. The entire paddock watched with bated breath. Then, miraculously, Y/N emerged from the wreckage, staggering but on her own two feet. She clutched her side, pain evident on her face, but she was alive.

Carlos watched the scenes unfold on the big screen, a mixture of relief and worry flooding over him. He wanted nothing more than to jump out of his car and run to her, but the race officials were insistent that the drivers remain in their cars. She was taken to the hospital for further evaluation, and Carlos was forced to stay and finish the race.

With his mind partially elsewhere, Carlos managed to secure a third-place finish, though the podium felt hollow without her there. As soon as the race ended, he rushed through the post-race formalities and made a beeline for the hospital.

Entering the hospital, Carlos was directed to the intensive care unit. He found her lying unconscious in bed, various machines beeping softly around her. His heart ached at the sight. He sat down beside her, taking her hand in his, and whispered, "You really know how to give a guy a heart attack."

Time seemed to crawl as he waited for her to wake up. Nurses came and went, reassuring him that she was stable and would wake up soon. Despite their assurances, Carlos couldn't shake the fear that gripped him. He held her hand tightly, willing her to open her eyes.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N's eyelids fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes. She looked disoriented at first, but then her gaze focused on Carlos. A weak smile spread across her face. "Hey, you," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Carlos felt a rush of relief and love. "Hey, yourself. You really scared me out there."

She tried to laugh, but winced in pain, her hand instinctively moving to her side. "Just a broken rib, nothing too serious."

"Broken ribs are serious enough," Carlos replied, his tone stern but his eyes soft. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "You won't lose me. We've got too many races to win... and too many moments to share."

Carlos smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead gently. "You're right. I just... I couldn't think about anything else but getting to you."

"How did the race end?" she asked, her curiosity piqued despite her condition.

"I got third place," Carlos said, shrugging as if it didn't matter. "But it felt meaningless without knowing you were okay."

She smiled again, a mixture of pride and affection in her eyes. "I knew you'd finish strong. You're always strong."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the beeping of the machines a steady backdrop to their thoughts. Carlos brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender. "You know," he said softly, "off the track, you really are my everything."

"And on the track?" she teased, her eyes sparkling despite the pain.

"On the track, you're still my everything," he admitted with a grin. "Just don't expect me to go easy on you next time."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," she replied, her smile matching his.

Carlos stayed with her through the night, holding her hand and talking about anything and everything to keep her spirits up. They reminisced about their best races, their travels, and their dreams for the future. Despite the beeping machines and the sterile hospital environment, their bond felt stronger than ever.

As dawn approached, Carlos knew he would have to leave soon to let her rest and recover. He kissed her forehead one last time. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised.

"I'll be here, waiting," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He stood up, reluctant to let go of her hand, but knowing she needed to heal. "I love you, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Carlos," she replied, her eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep.

Leaving the hospital was one of the hardest things Carlos had ever done, but he knew she was in good hands. As he walked out into the early morning light, he felt a renewed determination. They would get through this, just like they got through everything else—together.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Let me just say, I absolutely adore your writing so much!! Your More Than Anything series with Vox is honestly one of, if not my favorite Vox series!!!❤💙 I was wondering if you could do a kind of silly, fluffy imagine with Vox where they're in their early stages of flirting/crushing and the reader avoids the topic of kissing... because they think Vox isn't able to kiss with his screen? Literally before episode 8, the question in my mind was "Can the dorky TV man kiss?" And then we got confirmation he most DEFINITELY could 🤣 I just think it'd be so cute and funny for that to be something the reader was wondering as well but wasn't sure how to ask him about it without being weird lol

Oh my goodness, such high praise aaaa! I actually have a scene in my Ao3 fic based on the same concept! I'd be happy to write some awkward smoochums! This guy is such a fucking dork and I love him.

Assumptions [Vox x Reader Fluff]

You and Vox had been dating for a month and the overlord was on the verge of insanity. He knew that Valentino had much more intense needs when it came to physical affection than most, but he wasn't expecting such a drastic shift in needs when it came to you.

He knew that being in a real relationship was very different from what he'd experienced before with his fellow overlord. But he thought the two of you would have done something by now. Not even necessarily sex. (Although he'd definitely been fantasizing about that more than he cared to admit.)

The two of you had cuddled, slept in the same bed, and even h*ld h*nds, but you hadn't kissed yet and it wasn't for his lack of trying. He'd invited you on romantic dates and set up several perfect opportunities. But whenever he'd try to go for it, you'd always pull away before he had the chance.

He didn't understand. The two of you had been doing so well. You always seemed to be swept up in the little heated moments just as much as he was, so why?!

Vox had been completely distracted during his entire news segment and groaned as slipped into his secluded dressing room. If it wasn't for the fact that he caught sight of you in his mirror, he probably would have flipped out when he felt your arms slip around him from behind.

"What are you doing here?" he chuckled as he lifted a hand to rest on one of your arms.

"I missed you," you smile, squeezing him gently before letting go. "And I saw that..." you cringe. "Performance. You seemed off. Is something on your mind?"

Vox's eyes widened and he cursed himself mentally for putting on a subpar show in front of the camera. If you noticed, then the audience probably did as well. No one really gave half a fuck about the news, but ratings were ratings.

"It's nothing," Vox muttered. "It's just..."

He looks up at you with an unreadable expression and you gasp as he reaches up and gently takes hold of your chin. His brow furrows as he tucks your hair behind your ear and your heart races a million miles per second as he searches your blushing face for something. His eyes flick down to your lips and he slowly starts to lean, only for you to suddenly push him away.

"A-Anyways I just wanted to check in on you and see if we were still on for a movie tonight," you stammered.

Vox froze, not listening to your ramblings as he processed your deflection. He felt a sharp, cold sting of rejection in his chest and wondered if maybe you weren't as interested in the relationship as he hoped. His heart started to break, but then he noticed the way you were blushing.

"Why?" He asked quietly.

"Well, I just thought maybe you wanted to-"

"No," Vox grit his teeth as he grabbed you by the shoulders. "Why the fuck won't you kiss me? Every time I try, you pull away. We're dating, so why?"

You blinked up at him owlishly, your jaw hanging open before you grabbed his arms and breathed, "You can kiss?!"

Vox's brow furrowed as he looked you over, "Wh- The fuck are you on about? Yes, I can fucking kiss! I've been trying to kiss you for the past three goddamn weeks!"

You gasped before burying your face in your hands and groaning. "Oh my god, I thought... There were a couple times that I wondered, but this whole time I didn't think you could and I didn't want to be weird and..."

Vox stood taller as he processed your words. You didn't hate him. You weren't repulsed by him. You were just...

He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he absolutely lost it. "O-Oh my god! You're such a fucking idiot!"

Your face was burning with embarrassment. You knew he wasn't being malicious, but you were still mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh shut up! It's not my fault you're a flat-faced fucker!"

You were about to go bury your shame into the couch, fully expecting him to hold this against you for the rest of the day, but you were barely able to take two steps before Vox intervened.

You let out a startled yelp as you felt his claws wrap around your arm and yank you back. In the split second it took you to blink, he'd trapped you against a wall. You flinched as his hands slammed against either side of your head, trapping you as he grinned down at you.

"You are so fucking stupid," he snickered.

Your face only grew warmer as your heart pounded with mixed anger, embarrassment, and something else entirely due to the position he had you in. His hand traces lightly over your cheek before cupping the side of your face as he looks at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen from him.

You gasp as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your entire body feels like tiny fireworks are dancing lightly over your skin. You shiver as your hands instinctively reach up to grasp at his vest when he pulls you close.

You're both breathing much harder than is necessary when he pulls away. For a moment you just look at each other with half-lidded gazes as you process the sparks that just metaphorically and literally flew. You were pretty sure a bulb went out due to the little bits of blue energy that sparked off of your boyfriend during the kiss.

Speaking of your dork, Vox breathlessly grinned as he squeezed your arms. He let out a small laugh before stepping away from you and turning as more little sparks flew.

"Fucking finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Vox yelled as he pumped his arms in the air and kicked his legs like a giddy child.