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paarksunghoon · 1 month ago

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resignation (7)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: this chapter is also unedited. sorry y'all

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: mutual masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Sunghoon has grown far more bold ever since having dinner with him for the second time. You don't shy away or make a fuss about it when the two of you are alone together, and it scares you just how much you enjoy being in his company without the pretext of making sure he’s on track to succeed at his job.

He calls you after work to talk about anything but for the first time. Sunghoon keeps you company on the phone while you make dinner, and the two of you remain on the line while you brush your teeth before putting yourself to bed. He does the same, too, informing you of his meal and that he’s the kind of guy who needs a sweet treat before he goes to bed.

He’s just as bold on the phone as he is in person.

“Is it bad that I want to touch you?”

“What?”

“I just…I miss touching you. I’ll go crazy if I’m not near you.”

“You’re insane. Are you drunk?”

“Stone cold sober,” he tells you when you’ve settled into your sheets. It sounds like Sunghoon’s rustling in his bed sheets to sit up and rest against his headboard. “Can’t believe you’re so far from me.”

Is it normal for you to get worked up over Sunghoon’s voice?

“I haven’t stopped thinking about the night you slept over. God, you were so wet. You look really good when you come and you sound even better.”

His words echo in your mind and you grow more aroused with every word spoken. Sunghoon speaks like he’s got the raw honest truth that needs to be shared, or else it’ll make him go mad. His voice is breathy and light. It almost makes you think he’s troubled by it. You sit upright, too. Your pillows act as a brace for your back as you cross your legs and keep your phone by your ear.

“I can’t stop thinking about eating you out in your office either. Do you know how long I’ve been fantasizing about that? I can’t believe you let me eat it during work hours.”

“You’ve thought about it?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yeah. More times than I’d like to admit.”

“H-How long?”

Sunghoon lets out a breathy laugh. “Years, maybe. Definitely when you came into the office wearing the long purple dress. You looked so good waiting for me.”

You can’t help when you clench around nothing and roll your hips in the air. There’s no doubt your cunt is sopping wet by Sunghoon’s words alone, and his confession leaves you aching for his touch.

“I don’t know what it was about that dress. It was backless. You wore high heels, too. The kind I’d never seen you wear before. You looked different than you usually did.”

You put your phone on speaker and close your eyes as you let your middle finger ghost over your covered slit, imagining it was Sunghoon touching you instead. It takes you right back to the morning he fingered you for the first time when you feel how wet you are. You almost feel shameful for getting horny over the sound of Sunghoon’s voice. But it’s deep and seductive, and you can’t help it.

“I’ve always thought you were attractive. I love assertive women. I love when you put me in my place and argue up the wall until one of us gives up. It drives me fucking crazy when you get mad at me because all I can think about it how good the sex would be.”

You whimper quietly. It catches over the phone and Sunghoon hears it.

“Are you horny, baby?” Sunghoon asks like he can’t believe you feel the same way too.

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He breathes heavily and emits a quiet moan. You’re afraid to admit how incredibly attractive Sunghoon’s moans are and settle for biting your lip while prodding your covered cunt against your opening.

“Remember when we fooled around the night you stayed over? My dick was so hard for you. I was ready to take off your clothes and fuck you right then.

But it was late and we had work. You looked at me like you wanted it. I could see how badly you wanted me. Did you see how badly I wanted you too?”

After moving your panties to the side, you take the underside of your fingertips and glide when back and forth over your soaked pussy. You pass your clit with every swipe and jolt at the euphoric feeling while pretending it’s Sunghoon’s hand. You could come from just this if you tried hard enough.

“You’re a little quiet. Are you okay?”

“I…” you trial off, finding the courage to speak. “I like hearing you talk.”

Sunghoon hums. “You like hearing how horny you make me?”

“God yes.” It comes out like you’re desperate for it.

“I can’t wait to fuck you. For real, this time. We’ll have all the time in the world for foreplay, but this time, I’ll be able to fuck you without anything or anyone interrupting.”

When you hear wet sounds on the other end of the line, you can’t help but moan. You picture Sunghoon spreading his precum all over his cock with his hand shaped like a fist, twisting his wrist so that his thumb reaches his tip. You picture him with his phone put on speaker in order to use both hands to jerk himself off.

The echoes of his wetness splashing makes you put a single finger inside of you. When you listen carefully, you hear Sunghoon’s heavy breathing and the way he’s touching himself. You picture what his face would look like with his eyes closed and mouth wide open.

“I think you want that as badly as I do. I’ve got a place by the countryside. How about a weekend getaway? I’ll fuck you for the entire weekend if that’s what you want.”

Sunghoon hisses and you picture him with his hips in the air as he squeezes himself at the base. Your reference of his print from the first time helps you imagine how big he is without his clothes on. Big and thick. You push your finger deeper inside you and pull your wrist out, just to push it in again.

“I could fuck your perfect pussy in my bed. I’ll take you on my couch while we’re watching a movie. We’ll do it in the shower and in my car.”

He wants to fuck you this badly? Sunghoon’s words falter with every passing sentence. It sounds like he’s losing his grip on sanity the more he jerks himself off. You come to the conclusion that if you can hear Sunghoon touching himself, he could likely hear you getting off too.

Why does that make you feel excited?

You feel crazy when you think about what he’s saying. Why does it sound like Sunghoon has been thinking about this for a while? And, God, how is he able to bring out this side of you?

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

Sunghoon’s hand picks up the pace and he moans, unashamed. His deep grunts push you to add another finger inside and recall the girth of his own. You think about what he’d look like touching you in the quiet of your room on your own bed sheets instead of his. You imagine Sunghoon’s naked chest hovering over you while his face contorts into an expression of pleasure when he fucks his fingers inside of you.

Thinking about him like this makes you feel exhilarated. Your chest heaves up and down and you can’t help but roll your hips and push them towards your fingers. You reach the deepest parts of yourself and moan out loud, covering your mouth when you realize how loud you sound.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Sunghoon whimpers on the other end. “Keep going. You sound so fucking good.”

It’s not hard to listen to him. Moaning against your palm is like second nature when your fingers push themselves in and out. Sunghoon grunts and you imagine himself fucking his hips up in the air while his other hand tries to chase after his balls to squeeze them. He must be jerking himself off fast and quickly by the sound of slapping.

Imagining what it would feel like to go all the way with him pushes you over the edge. Sunghoon’s words get to you, and you think about his dick ramming inside of you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you properly. He sounds mangled and desperate to touch you without interruption. Something tells you he wouldn’t care if somebody walked in on him pleasuring you, but you know Sunghoon wants you all to himself just as badly.

You come with panting breaths and Sunghoon moans, too. The way you moan together sounds euphoric. So much, in fact, that you picture him on top of you as he finishes alongside you. You scrum able to grab your phone and take him off speaker so you can hear Sunghoo’s moans directly in your ear, and pretend he’s moaning while on top of you.

“I’m gonna, shit, holy shit—”

Sunghoon moans loudly when he comes. You imagine his hand working overtime to push out every last drop with his eyes wired shut. He could either be squirting ropes out his tip until it splashes on his abdomen. Or, his come could come out like a slow fountain and drip all over his dick until it seeps past his base. The urge to see him orgasm overtakes your every desire. It’s not fair that he’s seen you naked twice and you haven’t seen him named at all.

“You’re perfect.”

You snort. “Give me a second to calm down before you coddle me, would you? And what am I, a booty call when you can’t get off?”

“You’re more than that to me, and you know it. You just like giving me a hard time.”

“Someone has to.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“When am I not?”

He chuckles. “We should probably sleep. Work, you know?”

“You can be so awkward sometimes.” You laugh and pick up the phone to put it by your ear. “And, um…you sound really good. You know, when you, like…yeah.”

“When I what?” He’s teasing you and he knows you know it.

“You know!”

“I do, but I want to hear you say it.”

Your cheeks warm up and you find your courage. “You sound really good when you moan. I just…jesus.”

“And you sound like a fucking angel every time I make you come.”

“I’m going to hang up now,” you say hastily with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He laughs. “Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

“Night, love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

Maybe you’re losing your goddamn mind.

It’s hard to keep work separate from whatever’s going on between you and Sunghoon because every moment in his office feels like a lion stalking its prey. He’s professional in all sense of the word, except when he winks at you when nobody’s looking. You can’t count the times he’s snuck a kiss when the two of you are alone in the break room.

Is this a situationship? Is it casual dating? Would he describe this as either?

These questions have circled inside your mind from the minute you let him bury his fingers deep into you. You’re the kind of girl who likes a distinct answer with a clear label. You like stability and clarity, not the back and forth that you see in Netflix dramas.

Even so, you can’t help but relish the time you spend with Sunghoon. He’s giving you the kind of attention you’ve been secretly yearning for during your years away from home. It felt scary to jump into the deep end without knowing how far you’d fall, but Sunghoon makes you think the risk is worth it.

“Did I lose you?”

Sunoo’s voice cuts through your phone and you blink twice while staring at yourself in the mirror with a tube of mascara in hand. His voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“Thinking about lover boy, aren’t you?”

“He’s my boss, Sun.”

“A boss you’re fucking.”

“We are not fucking!”

“Yet.”

You close the mascara tube. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why I bother to update you on my life when you have plenty of action back home.”

Sunoo laughs. “It’s ’cause you love me and have no friends.”

“Yah. No need to rub it in. I’m pretty sure I’m becoming friends with my neighbor who watches Pochi for me when Sunghoon needs me to stay late.”

“That’s good. See, you aren’t totally helpless when it comes to your social life.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I guess. It’s been hard juggling work and my personal life. It feels like every person I hang out with is a product of my job. Everybody wants a meeting to connect with me, but nobody gives a shit about me.”

“Don’t say that. I know I tease you a lot, but that’s because I love you. People don’t see how great you are.”

“Ha. Maybe. Quitting Park Inc. will give me more time to think about my life. I don’t care if I have to work in a library for a year. Anything is better than a job where I won’t grow.”

“It sounds like you’re doing the right thing.”

“Am I?” You sigh into the phone. “I have no backup plan. I’m quitting on a whim and the money I’ve gotten from Sunghoon will last me for a while, sure, but then what? It’s not like I can crawl back to this company if I don’t find anything better.”

“You’ve been thinking about quitting for months,” Sunoo reminds you. “This isn’t a rash decision. We’ve spent a lot of time talking about this. You’re not happy working at this company and it’s about damn time you have a life outside of work.”

“I know. It’s just…different, I guess. I’ve gotten used to this lifestyle and catering to other people, you know? I’m not alone, but I feel really lonely.”

Sunoo hums with sympathy. “I wish I could see you everyday.”

“You’d get sick of me.”

He laughs. “No I wouldn’t. But don’t tell anyone that.”

“He took me to dinner last night, you know?”

“Sunghoon?”

“Mhm. There’s a Spanish place not far from my place. We looked at it for a company event in the summertime.”

“Like a food tasting?”

“Yeah, exactly that. Sunghoon ordered all of the menu, practically. We talked to the manager about it because they knew we were coming in, but he told me to order anything that looked good.”

“How much did you eat?”

“Too much, Sun. Sunghoon kept telling me not to worry about the price because it’s expensive anyway. I’m pretty sure Sunghoon might be the manager’s new favorite person.”

“That sounds like a date.”

You click your tongue. “I don’t know. Probably not. He held my chair out for me.”

“That was a date.”

“Sure. We had a few of their signature cocktails, too. Really good. Top shelf kind of stuff. We need to finalize their menu before I leave for good.”

Sunoo chuckles from the other end of the line. “You are so in denial.”

“Shut up. Did you eat breakfast yet?”

“I’m actually walking downstairs now. Riki’s up early because he has class and then dance practice later this evening.”

“Is that your sister?” A deeper voice flows through your ears.

“Hey, Riki. How are your classes and practice?”

“I resist the urge to fall asleep on my desk,” he says, which makes you laugh. “Dance is great. We’ve got a showcase in Seoul in a few weeks. You should come!”

“I’d love to. Text me the details, yeah?”

“Bring whoever. There’s gonna be a few scouts, but it’s not a huge thing.”

“I’ll be there.”

“You two are disgustingly supportive of each other,” Sunoo says.

“Don’t act like you don’t worry about her,” Riki says, no doubt teasing Sunoo while the latter rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m kind of stuck with her as a sister, so I have to.”

You laugh. “Don’t lie. You love me.”

“Debatable.”

You smile when you hang up the phone.

***

Yang Jungwon is fifteen minutes early.

You see him sitting in the lobby of your floor by the time you step out of your office to refill your water bottle before the interview. He’s got a piece of paper in his hands and he looks like he’s reading over the material thoroughly. Jungwon sits with a briefcase by his feet and dresses like he might as well be a business partner of Sunghoon’s. The secretary lets you know he’s waiting for the interview and you’re more than pleased to know he hasn’t arrived last minute.

Sunghoon is nowhere to be found, either. Even though each candidate has no inclination as to who they’ll be working with, you know Sunghoon’s curiosity will get the better of him. You’ve scheduled a meeting with a client out of the office and he won’t come back until well into the day.

An unfamiliar feeling settles in your chest when you look at him. He looks the way you did before you were hired. Nervous, ambitious, and hopeful. Looking at him makes you think about when you arrived at the interview much earlier than the set time and how you tried to push down your anxiety to appear more sure of yourself.

The years seem to have flown by the more you focus on work. A strange sense of nostalgia and longing lurks within you as you watch Jungwon from your office. Facing the fact that you will be replaced in a month feels oddly daunting. By the time you approach him, he stands up and bows respectfully.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me,” he says, putting the stray paper away. “I appreciate your time and consideration.”

“Thank you for coming. Let’s talk inside my office.”

He follows you inside and takes a seat in front of your desk when you beckon him to feel comfortable. It feels strange to be on this side of the interview; you kept a low profile during your first few years as an assistant until working with Sunghoon was as easy as counting to three. Becoming an invaluable asset and accumulating the fine details of how this company operates and the business it does feels like you’re far too integrated to leave. But you’ve always been Sunghoon’s right hand and nothing more.

Still, facing the reality that you’re parting ways with this job feels unnatural.

“How are you, Jungwon?”

“I’m great, actually.” He puts the briefcase on the ground and smoothes over his pants. “I’m really looking forward to our conversation.”

“Thanks for coming in on a Tuesday morning.”

“It’s my pleasure. I’m sure you have more pressing matters.” You hum. Hearing corporate speak from such a young man reminds you of the person you were six years ago.

“Tell me about yourself.”

He gulps. “I’ve just graduated college and have always held an interest in being in management. I wasn’t sure what field I wanted to go into, but Seoul has so many great opportunities I was afforded to discover during my time at university.” Jungwon takes a deep breath and twiddles his thumbs.

“Throughout my years at internships, venture capitalism caught my interest the most. It was fun, if I may speak candidly. I extended my internship throughout the summer before I graduated and liked being part of a team that sets up success for clients I believe in.” He watches you look down at his resume sitting atop your desk.

“You have great experience and your university courses align with what we do here.”

“I tailored my education during my last year of university because I know this is what I want to do for the foreseeable future. I want to learn from the best and become great at what I do without losing my head.”

You hum. “This job can get hectic, don’t you think?”

“I think any job can get that way, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it. My days were long and difficult, but I loved getting the experience to solve problems and make things happen for businesses. I enjoyed being part of it, even if I only contributed a small portion.”

Jungwon talks like he’s got the entire world ahead of him. It makes you wish you could see yourself like that too.

“Frankly speaking, this assistant position is much more than filing papers and running errands. There will be elements of that from time to time, but the person you’ll be working under likes to see how well his assistant can juggle the fine details before anything else.”

“I’m not held to a position,” Jungwon says with a smile. “I really like learning from other people and the best way to do it is to surround myself in an environment that teaches me. Even if I’m getting dry cleaning one day and sitting in on meetings the next, I’d like to think all of those tasks will lead me to become great at my job.”

“It’s a stepping stone, for sure. As you know, Park Inc. is the biggest venture capitalist firm in Asia and there is little room for error. How do you approach obstacles?”

“There’s no getting around bad days or lapse of judgment. We all make mistakes and it’s up to us to learn from them. I would consider myself somebody who sees the big picture for what it is. I’m also somebody who needs to focus twice as hard when it comes to the fine details and executing steps before we reach the end goal. It’s hard, especially when I’m in the beginning stages of my career, but I have the determination and ambition to succeed.”

Jungwon gives you near perfect answers when you ask him questions. Sunghoon thrives off of organization and somebody who can keep up with his routine. It’s hard to separate who you are with this job because you’re the longest assistant Sunghoon has ever had, and you think that counts for something.

A part of you looks at Jungwon like he’s a younger version of you. It’s as if you’re peering into your past; the concept of being incredibly motivated to jumpstart his career makes you wonder where your wide-eyed ambition went. His big, round eyes look at you with curiosity and his body language shows eagerness. You ponder on all the reasons why you’re giving your job up. You don’t find this position fulfilling anymore. This everyday routine doesn’t make you happy like it used to.

There’s hesitance in leaving the company you’ve worked for during your six years living by yourself. It was lonely, at first, with the knowledge that you’d be leaving your family and grade friends behind. Your parents and Sunoo helped you pack your belongings, but it seemed like he was the only one genuinely emotional about the move. While he swayed anywhere between excited for your next chapter and sad that you’d be far away, your parents seemed eager to get you out of the house.

Calls came few and in between. They’d driven you in a U-Haul truck with everything you owned and helped put the boxes in your apartment, but that was that. They had called a couple of times to make sure you were settled in because your relatives and neighbors had asked about it. But other than that, it seemed like most of their focus shifted onto Sunoo.

It wasn’t surprising, either. The three of you weren’t that close as you grew up. Getting used to secondhand treatment and the absence of parenthood was easier when you eventually left your hometown. Long gone were the days where you’d drive past your high school and relive memories of being forgotten at pickup or after extracurriculars. The impending doom of loneliness that came with moving to a brand new city without knowing a single soul was better than living with two people who were supposed to love you, but didn’t.

Having a set routine and focusing your attention on Sunghoon was a big reason as to why your adjustment wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. Your time was spent worrying about getting the hang of your job, and eventually catering to his needs. There wasn’t any time in your day to think about how lonely you were sitting in your apartment every weekend while everyone on your social feed was out of their house.

Befriending your neighbors and people you’ve met through work was your saving grace once the loneliness started to make its presence known. By this time, you knew Sunghoon like the back of your hand and work wasn’t keeping you from sleeping. You didn’t have to worry about impressing him because you’d been working under him long enough to know what he needed and how he operated. All that was left was you and your thoughts alone. Thinking about your life apart from your career was scary.

But even with new challenges and shortcomings, you’ve grown over the last few years. You’re not the timid person you were when you lived with your parents. This job has forced you to come out of your shell and broaden your worldview, inevitably teaching you how to become a more confident person. This job is filled with entitled men who know nothing of struggle, and being able to move past harsh criticisms and sexist behavior taught you what it meant to be a stronger person.

It feels bittersweet to hear Jungwon talk about why he wants your job so much. You don’t feel as excited to come into the office and contribute to your company like you all those years ago. It’s become monotonous and predictable. You know Sunghoon’s life better than you know your own. You know his medical history (in case of an emergency), you’ve gotten to know his immediate and distant family (because his entire family is in the venture capitalist business), and you’ve spent enough time with Sunghoon to get to know his quirks and habits. It’s time to let this phase of your life pass.

Who are you when you’re not his assistant? You’re having trouble figuring that out.

“Thank you for your honesty and for your time,” you tell Jungwon earnestly. He stands when you do and bows politely.

“If I may be honest once more,” Jungwon begins, “this is the best interview I’ve ever had.”

That makes you stop in your tracks. “Really?”

He nods. “I don’t mean to come off like I’m trying to sway you, or anything. I know how competitive this business is. But I appreciated how easy it was to talk to you and I enjoyed having a conversation instead of listing all of my strengths and weaknesses over and over again.

“It’s easy to get lost in the stress of this job. It sounds like you really care about what you do. I know we don’t know each other, but I get the feeling you’ve seen a thing or two and learned from it. Maybe this is crossing a line. I don't know. But honestly, it felt like I was talking to an older version of me, in a sense? So, yeah, I loved our interview.”

“Thank you, Jungwon.” You try to remain neutral and keep your mouth shut to prevent yourself from being too honest with a candidate. “I had a wonderful time with you, too. Let me walk you to the elevator.” He follows behind you to the silver doors and smiles politely at you before stepping inside.

“For what it’s worth, I’m happy to have met you.”

The elevator doors close. Sunghoon, who apparently made his way back into his office without letting Jungwon see, is sitting at his desk and looking at his computer. It takes a few strides before you round the corner and knock on his door. Sunghoon beckons for you to come in.

“How’d it go with the candidate? Did you lay it on thick or keep it casual? Jaeyun was betting on the former, but I think otherwise.”

You’re grateful that his office faces yours and cannot be seen from the floor lobby. Sunghoon looks at you in concern when your bottom lip starts to wobble as you walk closer to him, and you can barely see a thing when tears start to gather in your waterline.

“Baby?” Sunghoon says gently. “Are you okay?”

That goddamn term of endearment makes the dam burst.

It doesn’t help that you don’t cry in front of people. Not ever. There is a mix of embarrassment and shame stirring in your chest when Sunghoon looks at you as your tears fall one after the other. It keeps you standing where you are and unable to move your feet to walk any closer to him. Sunghoon springs up from his chair and stands in front of you within three steps. He encircles his arms around your body and pulls you into his chest like he’s done it a million times before, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

You keep your voice and sniffles low, but you let the tears freefall. It feels like you’re being sheltered and comforted at the same time. You can’t help but think how odd and uncomfortable it feels to be held like this after years of healing on your own. You couldn’t name the last time you’ve leaned on somebody else for support when you’ve felt like crying. And as unfamiliar as this feeling is, you don’t want to run away from it.

Sunghoon doesn’t speak, either. He doesn’t do or say anything except rubbing your upper back with his palm in an attempt to soothe you. You don’t see his furrowed eyebrows or feel how his throat clenches at the sound of you sniffling against him. He doesn’t care if his clothes dampen with your tears, nor does he care if he has to stand like this for hours just to get you to stop crying.

It feels so good to let yourself depend on him. You allow your head to fall onto his chest and remain there until your cries subside. Sunghoon keeps you between his arms and moves his free hand to the back of your head like he’s trying to tuck you further into him. It feels nice to be comforted like this, especially when you’ve been pretending you’ve been perfectly fine all along.

“What happened?” Sunghoon asks delicately. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I don’t like seeing you cry.”

“I met with Jungwon.” You sniffle and then hiccup.

“Yeah? Was the interview that bad?” You shake your head.

“N-No. The opposite.”

“But you’re in tears, love.”

You hiccup again. “I used to be ambitious and passionate. I used to look forward to the future. Jungwon told me this was the best interview he’s ever had and I can’t remember the last time somebody believed in me.”

“Oh, love.” Sunghoon cups your jawline and gently tilts your head upwards to look at him. “You’re still ambitious and passionate. That side of you is still there, but it’s time for a change and you know it.” He kisses your forehead. “There’s so much to admire about you. I knew I wanted you to be my assistant when I knew how eager you were to learn and experience life. Do you remember the first time we met?”

You nod. “You were obsessed with that stupid orange tie.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I was, wasn’t I? Ditching it was the second best decision I made.”

“What was the first?” Sunghoon smoothes over your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Hiring you. I like being around you, and I like who I’ve become with you by my side. Jungwon isn’t the only person who believes in you, dove. I do, too.”

You let out another choked sob, not caring how your mascara is probably running down your cheeks or how buffy your face has gotten. Something about the way he looks at you while he says the most kind and caring things stirs a part of you that yearns for validation and acceptance. For years now, you’ve learned to keep yourself in check and to become as independent as possible to avoid being disappointed by other people. But Sunghoon looks at you like he’d be there for you in a heartbeat.

His pet names don’t soften the blow to your heart, either. You’ve never been keen on nicknames in the first place. Terms of endearment sounded appealing, but only in television and books. Hearing Sunghoon talk to you like you’re somebody he cares about makes you realize just how much you care for him, too.

You’ve fallen for Sunghoon, but have been keeping this realization locked away in fear of being rejected. You can handle rejection and unrequited love, but the weight of knowing you’d need to do the work in order to move on is what scares you. You’ve never felt so intensely about someone before. This is the first time you could ever say you’ve fallen in love with somebody, and you can’t help but think Sunoo was right all along.

Is this what it feels like to be in love? To yearn for somebody so much that you’d do anything to keep them within your grasp? Is love meant to feel like you’re flying high above the clouds and afraid that you’ll have to fly closer to the ground if Sunghoon doesn't love you back? Is this what others feel when they speak of being on cloud nine?

“I…”

Sunghoon locks his eyes with yours. He doesn’t pressure you to speak. The words I love you are sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t seem to get yourself to say it just yet. It doesn’t feel right with all of these insecurities floating around in your head. You don’t want to be rejected and still have to see him after today.

“I’m grateful for you,” is what you settle on. “Thank you for believing in me that day.”

Sunghoon kisses your nose. You hate that you love the way his lips tickle and you loathe the way your heart rate picks up.

“I think we should go to lunch and forget about work for an hour or two. What do you say? You’ll be proud to know I’ve taken care of all my meetings and outstanding priorities.”

“I’d like that.”

You’re honest with him, too. You want to be selfish and continue spending time with him while your heart remains fragile.

He lets you.

***

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#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enha x reader #kpop x reader #park sunghoon fanfiction #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #sunghoon #fic: resignation #my writing*

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luvergirl-535 · 3 months ago

Text

meet cute, but worse

part - 1

word count - 5.1k

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

c/w - alcohol, throwup, mostly chaos lol. very very unserious.

a/n - my first piece in all lowercase letters and tell me why it was easier to write that way😔. anyway will release the other part to this before releasing anything else. can’t tell you when that will be, i’m booked and busy for awhile but i lowkey love this so i wanna keep writing sooner rather than later! based off this prompt 🙂‍↕️

(also, live reacts and feedback are very much appreciated 😛)

(also also, very unedited)

this night could not possibly get any worse.

with a face of ruined makeup, a lost wallet, and a chlorine-soaked designer dress, azzi fudd really begins regretting her decision to come on this cruise with chad at all.

especially considering chad—aka the guy who convinced her to come on the cruise, aka her boyfriend, aka the man who’s supposed to stay by her side and lead her through crowded rooms with a steady hand on her waist and buy all her drinks—has officially disappeared. and now here she is, standing outside the women’s bathroom wondering where her boyfriend, who’d promised to wait for her, has gone.

furious, azzi whips her phone out of her purse (both of which are still miraculously on her person, despite her horrible luck) and immediately dials her boyfriend’s number. if he doesn’t pick up on the first goddamn ring, azzi swears to god she’ll—

it goes to voicemail.

with a frustrated grunt, azzi sends him a quick, casual text: if you don’t get your ass to the room right fucking now i swear to god chad we’re over.

satisfied with that, azzi stuffs her phone back into her purse, runs a hand over her wet braids, and begins to make the treacherous journey back to her suite.

it’s midnight, which means all the minors on the ship have officially been sent to their rooms and all the adults have ventured to their various adult activities: r-rated comedy shows, drunken karaoke, and, for the younger adults, the nightclub.

it’s an indoor club, with strobe lights and surprisingly good music and amazing drinks. there’s a pool, and a bar, and some nice bathrooms.

it is this very bathroom—and this very nightclub—that azzi makes her way out of. it’s slow, and difficult, the club packed with inebriated bodies who seem determined to keep her from leaving. as she moves through the crowd, a few people give her strange looks, or stop to ask her why her dress is sopping wet. she ignores them all. if she didn’t, she’s not sure she’d have nice things to say.

she’s nearly at the exit when there’s a commotion directly behind her. against her better judgment, azzi pauses, turning to see where the loud, rambunctious noises are coming from. she regrets her decision to do so almost immediately—it’s nothing interesting, really. just a group of tall, clearly wasted girls playfully fighting with each other. based off the way they’re (badly) singing, they obviously know the song blasting over the speakers. almost all of them have drinks in their hands and azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at the way they’re hyping each other up.

even looking at them has azzi overwhelmed—she needs to get out of here. needs to get back to the comfort of her room, where she can pull herself together and chew chad out and get a good night’s sleep.

but, just as she resumes her exit, a body slams directly into her. she’s knocked off guard and absolutely helpless in the heels she stupidly put on earlier this evening, and she lets herself fall back into the rambunctious girls with something akin to resignation. this is it. this is my life now.

luckily, a few hands shoot out to brace her as she tumbles directly into their dance session. this means she doesn’t land on her ass, which is a good thing, but it also means she is currently being touched by, like, 12 different hands, which is a very, very bad sensory thing.

once she’s righted, azzi rips herself away from their grasps as calmly as anyone can rip away from something, and finds herself in the midst of their little circle.

“my bad,” she calls over the music, hugging her arms around herself in order to keep from bumping into any more sweaty bodies. “i got pushed and—“

“you okay, girlypop?” one of the girls says.

“yeah, that looked scary!” another younger, wide-eyed girl yells over the music.

azzi tries to reassure them, but they all start talking over one another at once, asking if she’s okay and apologizing and wondering if she wants to hang out for a drink and azzi backs up, imperceptibly, trying to escape from these drunk girls—but she bumps into someone else in doing so.

from then on, it happens in slow motion.

azzi turns around.

she catches a vision of blonde hair, someone slightly taller than she is.

she prepares herself to mumble an apology.

and then, with horrifyingly little warning, blondie bends over and pukes.

directly. on. azzi’s. shoes.

“oh my god!” azzi can’t help but cry, jumping back instinctively, and the other girls yell out with her.

“oh, shit!” the girl from earlier—one of the shorter of the group, the one with twists—jumps over to stand in between the puker and azzi. she puts her hand on the still bent-over woman’s shoulders. “boogs! what the hell!”

azzi thinks the woman might mumble in response, but she can’t hear much at all over the music. and she’s also a little preoccupied staring in shock at the bile on her feet.

with a sigh, the other girl spins around to face azzi. “i am so sorry, girl. she been acting crazy all night and honestly—we shouldn’t’a even let her out.” she tries for a good-natured laugh, but azzi just stares at her, mouth agape.

“right, guys?” the girl continues nervously, but then looks around and apparently realizes that the rest of her friend group have ditched her to take care of the awkward moment. she makes an offended noise. “fake bitches,” she mumbles.

with a little shuffle, the girl comes to stand beside her obviously ill friend, grabbing her by the shoulder and patting her on the chest. “so, uh, p, i get you’re going through it right now, baby, i really do. but you just threw up on this nice lady so i think maybe we should focus on one thing at a time.”

it’s only then that azzi’s attacker finally straightens up. her hands are placed firmly over her stomach, and her face is streaked with mascara—not to mention her complexion is slightly green.

but azzi recognizes her instantly.

and, despite the fact this girl is obviously not in her right mind, she recognizes azzi, too.

“paige?” azzi says incredulously, at the same time paige slurs, “oh, no.”

the other girl looks between them a little nervously, unsure of what to do next.

except, no, she’s not the other girl. she’s kk arnold, azzi recognizes now. guard at uconn.

and those other girls…fuck. azzi replays the memory in her mind, now with their faces attached to her resurfaced knowledge. they weren’t just some group of college girls.

azzi has had a run-in with the uconn women’s basketball team.

and she’s just been thrown up on by none other than paige fucking bueckers.

so much for getting a good nights sleep tonight.

—————————————

“so, remind me how y’all know each other?” kk says as they walk up to paige’s room. she has an arm around paige’s waist, fully supporting her, and she doesn’t look all too fazed by tonight’s events. azzi gets the feeling paige throwing up on people might be a regular event. which is just…awful.

paige answers with a groan.

sighing, azzi rubs her temple, trying desperately to ignore the smell of sick wafting up from her feet. “usa basketball. we played together.”

“oh,” kk responds. “you play?”

azzi doesn’t answer, just waits. paige elbows kk. kk says, “ow!” paige says, “kk, get your head out of your ass and look at her.”

so, kk does. she looks at her for the first time since they left the club, now under the bright hallway lights rather than the dim, strobing club ones. and it’s only a moment before realization dawns on her face. “oh, shoot! paige!” she stops dead in her tracks, letting go of paige to face her. “girl, that’s azzi fudd!”

“i know, kk,” paige mumbles.

kk turns to azzi. “you say y’all played together, what, 2018?”

“2017,” azzi and paige correct at the same time. azzi tries to meet her eyes, but paige has had her head hung low this entire time. she’s either sick or deeply disturbed or both. likely both.

they continue walking, and azzi recalls her time at camp. the memories are a little hazy, faded as all memories are. but she remembers paige—how could she not? the only girl who really gave her a run for her money, the only girl who met her competitiveness head-on. they played—well, they played amazingly together, oddly enough. azzi remembers she never really wanted to talk to the girl, who seemed loud and arrogant and overwhelming. but their chemistry on the court, without ever speaking to each other, was incredible.

she does have one very clear memory: the plane ride back. she’d been sitting in her seat, ready for the flight, when paige had hesitated beside her while walking down the aisle.

azzi had looked up, curious. “hi.”

paige’s cheeks had flushed bright red, which seemed completely out of character for the girl azzi had thought she was. “oh, uh. hey.”

azzi stayed silent.

paige scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “hey, i, um.” it looked like she was trying to convince herself to say something—almost like she was building courage to say it. a little flicker of something bubbled in azzi’s chest. anticipation, maybe? she doesn’t know; she’s never been able to figure out what that feeling meant.

all she knows is she felt disappointment when paige had sighed defeatedly and said, “can i put my bag in your overhead?”

she’d nodded. paige had said thank you. and they’ve never spoken again.

“yeah, yeah,” kk waves them off, hauling paige the rest of the way down the hall. “whatever. basically, i’m tryna say, it’s been seven years since then, right?”

azzi presses the up button, then leans against the wall. “yeah…”

“well, paige has had a massive crush on you for about eight of them.”

in an instant, kk is turned around, paige’s front pressed to her back as they lowkey wrestle. paige has a hand slapped over kk’s mouth, but that doesn’t stop her evil cackling from coming through.

paige glances over her shoulder. “she’s lying.”

azzi watches the commotion, and thinks such a scene wouldn’t have been made if kk was really lying. “uh-huh.”

“serious,” paige insists. it’s the most emotion azzi has heard from her tonight.

“okay.” the door dings open, and azzi sucks in a deep breath, being the first to step inside. “well, uh…”

kk wrangles out of paige’s grip, walking somewhat sassily into the elevator. “yeah, let’s go. p!”

paige glowers at them across the threshold.

“c’mon, girly. get in here.”

they have to hold the doors open, but eventually, and not looking particularly happy about it, paige steps inside.

azzi begins to regret agreeing to go to her room with them.

————————————

“ok, take those shoes off, stink,” kk instructs as soon as they enter paige’s suite. azzi doesn’t hesitate to comply, slipping out of her heels without looking at them, careful not to dip her toes in any throw-up. although she’s sure there are more than a few fangirls who’d sell their soul for some paige bueckers bodily fluids.

once she’s out of them, she hovers by the door awkwardly, and kk and paige exchange a glance. they obviously have some sort of silent conversation within the second-long look, because it has kk laughing. “you’re funny.”

“please,” paige murmurs.

“hell, no. you puke it, you nuke it.”

“that doesn’t rhyme, stupid-head.”

azzi watches them, a small, amused smile coming over her face despite herself.

“wait, what?” kk says, leaning her ear towards Paige.

“i said—“

“ever,” kk interrupts with a wide grin. “now go nuke those nasty shoes, for real.” kk glances at azzi and gives her a once-over before saying, “and get fudd-fudd some dry clothes while you’re at it.”

leaning down, paige grabs the shoes by the heels and grumbles something as she disappears into the bedroom. once she’s gone, kk ushers azzi further inside, leading her into the kitchen. “so,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “you in love with her yet, or what?”

azzi scoffs. “she’s not exactly charming.”

“oh, no, she real charming.” kk glances at the closed bedroom door, then leans forward, motioning for azzi to step closer. when she does, kk lowers her voice. “she just gets nervous around you.”

“i haven’t talked to paige in years,” azzi says, a little confused. a crush, she understands—many people have had crushes on azzi before. but no way paige gets nervous around her, when they’re never even around each other to begin with.

“nah, but you notice how we’ve never won a game against y’all?” kk asks.

“yeah.” of course azzi’s noticed. most people have—uconn is the team to beat, but in the four years azzi’s been in college, they’ve never once won against ucla.

“ever wonder why?”

“because we’re better than you,” azzi responds all too quickly.

kk makes an unamused face at her. “no, it’s because paige is too busy having wet fantasies about you instead of playing the damn game.“

azzi waves this off. “excuses.”

“i’m being serious.” kk nudges her in the arm, then pulls her a little closer, once again lowering her voice. “and you wanna know something else?”

azzi sighs like she doesn’t, but really, she does—she’s always been too nosey for her own good. “tell me.”

“every girl p’s ever hooked up with is a mixed baller with curly hair and brown eyes. and if she has dimples, paige lets her stay the night.”

azzi downright barks out a laugh at this one. “i’m starting to think you’re making all this shit up.”

“just watch,” kk says cryptically. “you’ll see.”

azzi wants to ask more—like, is it confirmed that paige has wet fantasies about her?—but the bedroom door opens and azzi turns her head to see paige standing in the doorway, a pair of clothes bundled in her arms. azzi does her best to keep a straight face but she must look a little guilty because paige narrows her eyes at them. “what were y’all talking about?”

“how i been constipated lately,” kk says a little too quickly. azzi valiantly keeps her expression neutral. “azzi was giving me advice.”

azzi nods somberly. paige looks borderline mortified, which is not a look azzi ever thought she’d see on someone like her. “can you try to be cool for once?” she asks kk.

“you’re the one who puked on her,” kk says. “if she could get scared away, she wouldn’t be here.”

paige sighs, stepping closer, into the kitchen with them. her cheeks are tinged pink, from alcohol or kk’s antics or—maybe something else, azzi thinks as paige avoids eye contact with her while handing over the pair of clothes. “uh, here.”

“thanks,” azzi says. she reaches for the clothes, letting her right hand just brush paige’s own before pulling back, watching for a reaction. there’s not much, but when paige’s hands are free, she shakes out the right one as if she’s been shocked.

azzi makes a little mental note. interesting. very interesting.

“you can change, um, back there,” paige says, throwing a thumb back over her shoulder before scratching awkwardly at her neck. “or, like, wherever, i’on care.”

azzi’s eyebrows raise on their own accord. paige opens her mouth, then closes it, then says, “i mean, you could also go to the bathroom or sum’. obviously you shouldn’t change, like, here. that’d be—weird.“

“riiiight,” azzi drawls, a small, amused smile playing on her face.

“so, uh, yeah.” paige sidesteps, motioning for azzi to pass. “go ‘head.”

——————————————

once she’s on her own, she takes it in—the privacy, the quiet. it’s been a long fucking night. she cannot wait to get to her own room and just sleep.

well, she’ll need a shower first. shower, then sleep. or maybe she’ll even indulge in a bath. the mere thought of it has her shoulders relaxing.

but then, her phone buzzes inside her purse. and her shoulders are tense all over again, because that’s got to be chad—texting her back thirty minutes late—and since when does she want to deal with chad?

a bit reluctantly, she pulls her phone out of her purse. it’s only at five percent and so she ignores all her other notifications, going straight to she and chad’s messages.

sure enough, he’s just responded to her last text: sorry baby, got caught up lmfaooo. you tryna fuck tn?

and then, sry for pushing u in the pool fr

waiting for you in da room

well, fuck.

that’s the first thing that crosses azzi’s mind. because, after the shit he’s pulled tonight—and every other night in the two months they’ve been together, honestly—they’re over. she’s done. which means she’ll either have to fight with him for their room for the rest of the trip, or sleep by the goddamn pool. and confrontation has never been her thing.

tossing her phone onto the bed, azzi discards of her purse, as well, before reaching behind herself to unzip her dress. her day might have been shit, but at least she finally gets to take this stupid dress off.

she fumbles a little before grabbing hold of the zipper. she pulls, and it gives about an inch before abruptly stopping.

furrowing her eyebrows, azzi pinches the zipper harder between her fingertips. pull, give. stop.

“shit,” azzi murmurs. this time, when she tries again, it doesn’t give at all, just says firmly stuck in place.

she already knows pulling it over her head or down her hips is out of the question—the dress shrunk like two sizes in the water. no way this thing is making it over her hips or shoulders without some leeway. so now here she is, stranded in the middle of paige bueckers’ room with a soaking wet dress and a broken zipper.

she considers marching out of this place without another word, going to her own room, fighting briefly with chad over it, and then cutting the damn thing off. but then she’d have to walk, shoeless, through the entire ship. and confrontation still isn’t her thing.

sighing, azzi tucks away her pride and goes over to the door, peeking her head out. the girls are still in the kitchen. paige’s back is turned, but azzi can see kk, and she has an amused smile on her face as they speak in hushed whispers. paige sounds mad about something.

azzi clears her throat.

paige visibly tenses, and kk’s smile only grows as she slowly turns around, looking very much afraid.

“uh,” azzi says, unsure what to make of the whole ordeal. “my zipper is stuck. i need help.”

god, please let kk volunteer, please let kk volunteer, no seriously, please let—

“paige volunteers as tribute,” kk says, shoving paige forward.

paige chokes. “no i don’t!”

“least you can do after throwing up on her,” kk says.

“that’s not fair,” paige argues. azzi would beg to differ, but she’s keeping her mouth firmly shut in the hopes of avoiding a potentially very awkward situation.

kk raises an eyebrow. paige sighs. then, resolve washes over her features, and azzi lets out a disappointed breath. fuck.

“okay, fine. sure.” paige is grumbling, eyes downcast as she heads toward the bedroom, and azzi shoots kk a dirty look before closing the door behind the two of them.

paige stands in the middle of the room, playing nervously with her fingers. azzi lets them sit in the awkward silence for a few moments before realizing paige is waiting for further direction.

“uh, yeah,” azzi says, stepping up to her before turning around. she grabs once again at the zipper, pulling it to show paige how stuck it is. “it’s not budging.”

paige takes a step closer, and azzi’s entire body tenses at the proximity. she doesn’t dare look over her shoulder, but she can feel paige, the drunken warmth radiating off her body, and she can hear her breathing. it’s without warning that paige’s fingers come to fiddle with the zipper, her knuckles brushing between azzi’s shoulder blades, and her body thrums with…something.

she is not usually like this when somebody has a crush on her. but she’s fresh off a self-proclaimed breakup and maybe that’s what’s making her feel so inexplicably tense.

“yeah,” paige says after giving the zipper a few tugs. “it definitely looks broken.”

azzi doesn’t say anything. every time she thinks she’s hit rock bottom, something else gets thrown at her. first the pool, then the throw-up, then a broken zipper. and through it all, chad. none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for him, azzi thinks bitterly.

“we can try getting it off without unzipping it,” paige suggests. azzi turns her head to the side, not enough to see paige behind her, but enough to try and gain some composure. because paige implying that they will both pull this dress off of her leaves her warm.

“i already tried,” azzi says instead of agreeing, which is something she weirdly wants to do. despite knowing the dress won’t come off if it’s zipped, she wouldn’t mind letting paige try. maybe letting her pull the straps down her shoulders, or even lift the skirt over her hips…

okay, azzi. snap the fuck out of it.

in an attempt to salvage the situation, azzi blurts, “scissors.”

paige chokes. azzi closes her eyes in a silent acceptance of defeat. the universe is definitely out for her.

“wha—?” paige starts, but azzi doesn’t let her finish before whirling around with a casual smile, “i meant, we might need to get scissors. like, to cut the dress off.”

“oh,” paige says, her mouth forming a little ‘O’ of understanding. “okay. yeah. uh, you sure you wanna cut it?”

the thought of trying to save this dress is almost laughable. it may have been expensive, but it was also a gift from the very same man who ruined it by pushing her into the pool. “yeah,” she says. “positive.”

paige makes a face at the dark tone of azzi’s voice, but luckily doesn’t question it. “oo-kay,” she drawls, turning to the nightstand and rummaging through one of the drawers.

“so, uh,” paige says as she searches, “how’d your dress get like that, anyway?”

soaked. she means soaked. “got pushed into the pool,” azzi says.

“oh, shoot.” paige glances over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. “by who?”

“my boyfriend,” azzi says, nearly shuddering at the words. then, pleasantly, she remembers he’s not her boyfriend anymore—even though he doesn’t know that yet. “well, my ex-boyfriend.”

“your boyfriend pushed you in the pool?” paige asks. she sounds a little outraged, and, upon finding the scissors, she spins around with them in hand.

“ex-boyfriend,” azzi corrects. “i mean, as of a few minutes ago.”

“well, shit.” paige walks back over to her. “fuck him.”

azzi’s first reaction is to get defensive—she’s spent two months month defending chad to all her friends—but she doesn’t have to do that anymore, so instead she nods decisively. “yeah, fuck him.”

it’s then that paige smiles—the first time azzi’s seen it tonight—and it’s this shy, timid smile, so different from the overconfident, giddy one she gets in games. it’s clear she’s horrible at hiding her little crush and usually that would ick azzi out, but on paige it’s almost…endearing?

and for some reason, butterflies flutter in her tummy at the sight of it.

“okay,” azzi says, turning around in an attempt to crush the moment. “go ahead.”

“should i just cut along the zipper?” paige asks. azzi nods, motioning back towards herself. “do your worst.”

“alright,” paige says, a hint of doubt in her voice. she starts cutting nonetheless. azzi feels nothing but satisfaction at the first snip—she’s glad to be rid of this thing. when she gets home, she’ll burn everything else that fuckass man gave her, too. paige is, in a way, doing god’s work by cutting it.

“so,” paige says as she works. “what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

azzi winces. “uh, chad.”

paige pauses her snipping. “for real?”

“yeah,” azzi says sheepishly, before once again saying, “and he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“right,” paige replies, tone thick with humor. “so, chad pushed you into the pool while you were wearing this nice dress. and then you broke up with him?”

“well…” azzi trails off—leave it to paige bueckers to make her feel dumb. “i mean, he disappeared on me afterwards, and then he didn’t respond to my texts until like ten minutes ago, so…”

“so he pushed you into the pool, acted crazy, and then you broke up with him.” paige says it like a statement, which makes azzi really hesitant to disclose the whole story.

“i mean, yeah,” she mutters.

paige picks up on the way the sentence lilts guiltily. “bruh.”

“i guess i haven’t actually broken up with him,” azzi is quick to say, paige’s judgmental gaze burning into the skin of her back. “but i did it in my head.”

“in your…” paige must think better of asking more questions, because she just sighs before pulling her hands away from azzi’s dress. “whatever, girl. i’m done.”

azzi turns to face her. “stop that.”

“stop what?”

“judging me.”

paige raises her eyebrows. “i’ll stop when you actually break up with him.”

it’s supposed to come as a joke, but for some reason, azzi takes it as a challenge. almost like she’d do anything for paige’s approval. which is stupid, because paige is clearly an unexpectedly dorky lesbian who just so happens to be hot and athletic.

(it won’t take long for azzi to realize she has a very specific taste in women.)

“fine,” azzi says. and then she, who has never been one to take life advice from virtual strangers, marches to the bed, grabs her phone, and navigates once again to chad’s contact. she tells herself it’s just so she’ll be able to sleep in their room tonight rather than avoiding him the rest of the trip. it’s not really true.

he answers on the fourth ring (typical). it’s nothing but a simple, “yo.” she hates him.

paige puts her hands on her hips, clearly a little surprised that azzi’s actually doing this, but daring her to see it through nonetheless. azzi switches to speakerphone. “chad,” she says, a little unsure of how to go about this. all of her previous breakups have been mutual, cordial. this…

oh, she hates him.

“wassup, baby.” he has the audacity to sound a little annoyed at being bothered, and azzi takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“chad, we gotta talk.”

there’s a long, dramatic sigh on the other end of the line. “is this about the pool? because if it’s about the pool it’s gotta wait ‘till tomorrow. i’m too tired for that shit.”

paige’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline, before furrowing in disbelief, her mouth dropping open a little.

azzi just nods.

“asshole,” paige mouths.

“actually,” azzi says, “i’m breaking up with you.”

silence. then, a bark of laughter. “yeah. aight.”

“i’m being serious.”

“whatever you say, azzi.” he sounds equal-parts amused, equal-parts irritated. “look, just come back up to the room before it gets too late. you know i’ll make it up to you.”

paige sticks her tongue out, pointing a finger into her mouth and gagging.

azzi rolls her eyes. “you wanna know something, chad?”

“what,” he says, barely interested anymore. (he has the attention span of a goldfish with adhd.)

“we’ve been together for how long?”

“uhh…” chad drawls.

“two months,” she informs him. “and in that amount of time, how many times have we fucked?”

“shit, i’on know,” he says, sounding a little more amused now, like he’s in for a treat. he has no idea.

“a lot, chad. and do you have any idea how many orgasms i’ve had in that amount of time?”

dead silence. she almost wonders if he’s hung up. paige is looking at her like she’s crazy, or maybe like she’s an angel descended from heaven itself. azzi focuses back on the phone. “zero. you have made me come literally zero times.”

another laugh, this time more awkward. “azzi, c’mon, bro—“

“so no, i would not like you to make it up to me tonight, or ever,” she continues, gaining a little momentum now. “your tiny-ass dick could never. and if you don’t get the fuck up outta that room so i can sleep tonight, then i’m—“

“hollup, you’re being serious?” chad interrupts.

“yes,” she says—he never did take her seriously. “so you need to find somewhere else to stay because—“

“hell nah,” chad interrupts once again, this time sounding straight-up affronted. “i’m not giving you the room just because you’re deciding to go batshit on me. you can have it when you come to your senses tomorrow, baby.”

rage seethes, hot and quiet, through azzi’s very marrow. she hates being condescended. hates being spoken down to. hates not being believed. she is going to tear his ass in two.

she glances up at paige. paige has now found a seat on the bed and is watching with wide eyes, looking like she needs a bag of popcorn. looking undeniably fine, somehow, even after throwing up on azzi and then proceeding to have the most awkwardly obvious crush on her. looking undeniably edible, to be completely frank.

and then—

oh, and then.

“fine,” azzi says, holding the speaker right up to her mouth so chad won’t miss a single word of what she’s about to say. “don’t give me the room. i got somebody else to stay with.”

“yeah? who?” chad asks. she can picture his stupid smile as he says it.

“paige,” azzi says, ignoring the quizzical look paige is sending her. “an old friend.”

“paige?” he says, clearly confused.

“yeah,” she continues. “and if you don’t give me that room back…” she avoids paige’s gaze for this part, or else she wouldn’t have the balls to do it, “then i’m gonna stay here. and i’m gonna get fucked by paige bueckers.”

there’s a sharp, nervous laugh. “you’re lying through your fucking teeth, azzi.”

“wanna find out?” azzi asks, hoping he doesn’t call her on her bluff.

“yeah, actually,” he says. “i’m using the room tonight. and let’s see if you’ve fucked paige bueckers by morning.”

with that, a click. the line is dead.

paige’s jaw is on the floor.

azzi squeezes her eyes shut.

okay, so azzi stands corrected. the night has, officially, gotten worse.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wcbb #wbb #this is so stupid #don’t take this serious please #i’m just making myself giggle

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