#they didn’t really think they would have to—

[457gf]

hwang inho who . . inho x fem!reader

₊˚ʚ warnings : smut, dark content, age gap, naive!reader, manipulation, sexual coercion, dubcon / noncon, slight somnophilia, inho being a creepy old man for you, use of the word 'rαpe'

hwang inho who loves taking advantage of innocent naive girls, practically drooling when he spots you nervously fidgeting with your fingers, eyes squeezed shut as you silently begged for others to vote x. you wanted to go home so bad, but of course inho couldn’t let that happen.

hwang inho who can’t help but throb in those stupid cheap sweatpants when your smile drops even further from the result of him continuing to stay. obviously you didn’t know the real reason he said yes, though thinking of the look of betrayal that would form on your face after he tells you makes his grin that much wider.

hwang inho who approaches you gently, almost as if you’re a porclein doll who could be broken at any moment. you’re understandably weary because of the blue O stuck on his chest for the time being, almost as if a mockery. he’s the one that sealed your fate of staying here, after all. instead of bothering you like you initially thought, he politely invites you to sit with him and a few other people, under the ruse of “you look like you needed a friend.” in actuality, he just wanted to make sure you didn’t stray from his sight.

hwang inho who does everything in his power to get close to you. promising he’ll protect you, stick by you during all of the game, and put your safety well above his own. not like he was in any real danger with the guards on his side, though those words did give him a few brownie points from you for his generosity. it wasn’t really a lie, because he would protect you through all of the games, and he had no doubt about that.

hwang inho who watches you at night, promising to keep lookout for the whole group, though he spends most of his time staring at you. pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, pushing your hair out of your eyes so he’s able to see your pretty face better. inho can’t help but run his hands over your body, feather light touches across your perky tits and your hips, careful not to wake you up. you’re so god damn beautiful, you could be classified deadlier than the games because of the way you make his heart stop.

hwang inho who quickly pulls his hands away when you start to blink awake, eyes heavy with sleep. he’s a bit embarrassed he let himself be so reckless, but there’s nothing a little lie won’t fix. “oh, you kicked your blanket off so i was making sure you were cozy again.” “you were squirming so i thought you were having a nightmare. are you okay?” “i’m just checking on you, i’m sorry if i scared you.”

hwang inho who runs to the bathroom shortly after, unable to take more of the aching caused by your precious eyes. he’s pressed up against a stall, hand working fast over his thick cock as images of you flood his mind. you’re so cute and naive, he wants nothing more than to break you. you’re so stupid, you believed his little lie, not even questioning any further. and god, the way you called him “mister young-il” in that tired voice of yours before flopping back down, a sigh of relief escaping, made him feel even more perverted. you were so young and truly trusted him to look after you. he couldn’t get the thought of you underneath him, begging him to keep using you like a fleshlight out of his gross head.

hwang inho who can’t decide if he finds the idea of you crying out for him to stop and get off you hotter than you asking for more. definitely the former, he thinks. he wants to rαpe you, to sneak his hands underneath your pants in the middle of the night and play with your sopping cunt, the idea of your own body betraying you and giving into his sick desires and love for you makes his head fall back, roughly hitting the stall door in the process. he couldn’t care, he’s too far gone thinking about you.

hwang inho who can’t help but plot when the best time to take advantage of you will be, finally coming to the conclusion of mingle. the guards take a few minutes to clean up the bodies and some of the blood of each deceased after each round, leaving the players trapped in the locked rooms whilst doing so. all he had to do was wait for two people to be called out, tell the guards to take a little extra time, play your knight in shining armour, then push you against the wall and make you squirm.

[amdiriel]

lonely pt. 2

Azriel x fem!Archeron!reader

SUMMARY: After a vulnerable moment of comfort, Reader tries to navigate Azriel’s increasingly flirtatious behavior without assuming anything. Because she really shouldn’t. Right?

WARNINGS: FLUFF, slight suggestiveness, a bit of hurt but SO much comfort, not proofread we die like men

NOTE: thanks for so much love on part 1! I have some ideas for new Az fics, so lmk if you're interested in being on my Azriel taglist! xox diri

WORDS: ~4.2k

part 1 main masterlist

•••

It had been about a week and a half since my little breakdown in my room, my cycle coming and going just days after it. I attributed my moment of uncharacteristic hopelessness to hormones.

I hoped Azriel would too, since I had trouble fully looking him in the eye ever since out of embarrassment. After a night of deep rest post-letting-it-all-out, I woke the next morning to a spill of hindsight in my mind, grumbling at my ridiculousness into my pillow. Despite my cycle being a royal pain in my ass, it was a few days where I could hide safely in my room.

So the next few days, I was determined to be fine. I was great, living the dream, no worries here, wielding a grin and a dry joke as always.

The first day after my cycle ending, I wake up to blissful absence of pain in my abdomen, and treat myself to a long bath.

Afterwards, I take advantage of a brisk morning walk, the sunshine making the late winter weather less intolerably cold. I barely get two blocks from the River House before a shadow passes over my head.

I tilt my head back, squinting through the direct sunlight. Then the shadow descends at an alarmingly fast rate and touches down near-silently beside me. “Good morning,” Azriel murmurs.

I jump at his sudden appearance, the bubbling nervousness at his closeness making it more pronounced. “Shit—Azriel,” I gasp, calming myself with a breath. “What the hell?”

He chuckles lowly and nudges me slightly as he matches my resuming pace. “Sorry. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid,” he says, not sorry at all.

I huff and roll my eyes, even as my lips curl up as well. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You need to wear a bell.” His laugh curls around me.

“I’m not sure it would go with my leathers,” he pretends to muse. “A collar would really ruin the effect of my scariness. Not to mention the whole point of being Spymaster.”

I snort, shaking my head. He nudges me again, drawing my gaze back up to him. I find his eyes warmly on me.

“I’m glad to see you out and about,” he says. “I was worried about you.”

I let the sweet words warm me for a quick moment before I huff a small laugh. “It’s my cycle, not sickness. I’m good.”

He shrugs. “Still. I know it’s much worse for you and your sisters now that you’re all fae. You handling them alright?”

My expression softens. “You’re sweet. I’m fine. I didn’t have much pain as a human, so I think as far as fae cycles go, my pain now is relatively mild. I mostly just don’t want to do anything,” I reply with a shrug of my own.

Azriel eyes me for a moment. “Alright. But you’ll let me know if you need anything, right? I haven’t forgotten about our agreement, you know,” he says with a sly smirk.

It takes a second for it to dawn, but soon a blush blooms on my face as I remember that night. I huff a sigh, finding it within me to laugh a little at myself. “So, what, you want me to come to you any time I have a problem?” I ask dryly.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he answers plainly.

I give him a look. “Are you now our resident therapist too?” I deadpan. “Your resume’s long enough, Shadowsinger, you can take a pause every once in a while.”

He laughs again, shaking his head at me. “I may be busy, but never for you. Never for family,” he replies, and with such sincerity in his eyes that my steps falter for a moment.

Fuck. What happened to cool and collected, Archeron?

But I swallow and arch a brow. “Sweet. But you’re barely here enough to be able to do so for the many members of our ever-growing household,” I say, thinking about our nephew Nyx.

He shrugs a shoulder, his wings unfurling then furling in a subtle motion that catches my eye. I’d always found them fascinating. “Then how about this—I’ll never be too busy for you,” he says, a note saucily that my widened eyes turn upon his smirking face.

I grasp for words for a moment, and I see his eyes delight at my moment of hesitation. I shut my mouth and switch tactics, laughing. “Why Az, you are positively Rhys-like today.”

His brows raise, expression lighting in challenge. “Oh am I? Enlighten me, sweetheart.”

I bite hard on the inside of my cheek at that damned pet name again. This male just made it so bloody difficult to be dignified at all. I swear, every moment in his presence is a fight for my life. “You’re all—” I gesticulate over his person, “Swaggering. It’s unnerving. Please, for my sanity, resume your duties as our resident brooder. You’re putting me off.”

His head tilts back with a hearty laugh that startles me into astonishment. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he drawls, suddenly feeling like he’s looming over me.

Stupid, tree-like male.

I don’t reply except for a disbelieving huff at his forward behavior. His smirk is self satisfied as he halts, taking a step back with a sketch of a bow.

“You’ll have to resume your walk without me, Ms. Archeron,” he says, and I wrinkle my nose at the use of my surname. His smiling eyes rove over it, dipping to my lips before locking with my own gaze again. “Think you can manage?”

I scoff and manage to flip him off as his enormous wings unfurl and beat his figure into the air. His rumbling chuckle disappears as his shape grows smaller in the sky.

—

The following days, he wasn’t as blatantly swaggering, as I had called him, but he was…

Forward. Disarmingly so.

I couldn’t seem to avoid his presence if I tried, if merely to kick some sense back into myself. First it was the library—when I had settled into the cozy window seat, my usual perch, an hour into my reading, he had strode in his silent yet confident way of his. I had stilled, as if hoping he’d simply not notice me. Fool. He notices everything. And he certainly had wasted no time sidling up to my perch and leaning over to observe what I was reading. His warmth and masculine scent was a pleasant yet oppressive blanket to my poor sensibilities. And I barely survived when he had hummed “Any good?” practically into my ear.

Or there was lunchtime—I’d wander into the kitchen to make something quick and simple for myself, and when I walked into the dining room he’d be sitting there already, looking up with a small, unassuming smile. When he bade simply, “Sit with me”, I had no choice but to obey and eat with him. In my suspicion, I confess that I switched the times I went to get lunch by random intervals, in which each and every time he either was already there or showed up soon after.

I couldn’t tell if it just happened that way, or if he was being overly clever in his intentional variation.

Now, three weeks post-meltdown incident, Azriel had been gone a few days on Cauldron-knows-what business, so I’d loosened up, no longer bracing myself like he could walk into the room at any second.

Which is apparently my folly, since as soon as I round the corner into the dining room one morning, I found him standing at the sideboard, back toward me, making a cup of tea.

I halted, nearly rearing back as my mouth started to form the word shit, but quickly clamping it down. But even the smallest of noise alerts someone as discerning as him.

He turns and calls my name with quiet warmth, and I banish the wince from my face. “Hey,” I say simply. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” he says, abandoning his tea to draw near. My head tilts back as he stops in front of me. “How have you been?” he asks with a soft smile.

His quiet care is almost more flustering than his forwardness. “Well. Fine,” I answer. “And you? Your mission or whatever successful?”

He huffs amusedly. “My mission or whatever was just fine,” he replies. Then he returns to the sideboard. “Tea?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Just bla—”

“Just black. I know,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder at me. I blink in surprise, cheeks pink. He’s been paying close enough attention that he knows that?

Of course he has, dummy. He probably has dossiers on everyone in this city with information down to the way they take their tea, the pragmatic voice in my head deadpans. You’re no exception.

I blink again as he draws near with a second cup, passing it to me. I take it with a small thank you, sipping it gratefully.

Just when I start to squirm on my feet at the silence between us, he speaks. “About what we talked about that night a few weeks ago—” I still. “You’re alright in that regard? And don’t lie, I’ll be able to tell.”

I huff a sound between a sigh and laugh, looking down. “Well, I haven’t had a night as bad as that one since then, so that’s good right?” I say with wry self-deprecation. He doesn’t reply. “But really, I’m alright. Just winter blues, I suppose.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

I roll my eyes in a small flash of annoyance. “Alright, not just winter blues. But they certainly don’t help. But I’m fine. Really. You did really help that night,” I admit softly.

I don’t really notice my teacup is empty until he gently takes it from my hand and sets it next to his already abandoned cup. “What helped most, sweetheart?” he asks gently.

My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth—speaking my vulnerability aloud both impossible and foreign. Letting him in last time didn’t hurt. It helped, a small voice whispers in my head.

I take a breath. “Just—talking through it. Physical touch too, um…” I fight to stay steady. “It’s grounding.”

He hums, nodding. There’s a light touch to both my elbows, and my eyes shift down to find that he’d silently reached for me. I allow the touch, but don’t dare go further, suspended in the fear of the unknown.

“You don’t have to be afraid to ask for that,” he murmurs quietly. Suddenly I’m very aware of the air we’re sharing, how close he’s gotten to me. His hands slide slowly to my upper arms, my breath hitching as the warmth of his palms bleed through even my heavy sweater.

The panic sets in before I can think this interaction through, before I can rationalize that maybe, just maybe he wants to be close to me, wants to touch me. Instead my eyes find the clock and seize the subject change before me. “Don’t you have Valkyrie training in five minutes?”

Azriel stills and follows my gaze to the clock. His jaw works once before the fleeting tension is gone. “You’re right. I should go.” He squeezes my upper arms gently before letting his hands drop. “Stay warm today. Wind is supposed to get bad, and temperatures will drop rapidly once the sun sets.”

I nod, giving him a brief smile. “Of course, you too. Stay warm, I mean.”

He returns my smile before leaving the room.

A whoosh of air leaves my lungs as soon as I’m alone again. Idiot. Silly, foolish girl.

—

Azriel was at his wits end.

He’d been pulling far more stops than his usual personality allowed, hadn’t he? She was certainly clever enough to notice that he was acting much differently around her, right? Had he just not been forward enough?

And still, she did not allow him closer, as close as two people could be. He'd given her every sign he could think of without embarrassing himself.

Impossible girl. Can’t you understand that all I want is to comfort and coddle you?

He must not have taken care to erase any tension in his expression by the time he touched down in the ring atop the House of Wind, because Cassian’s brows raised upon seeing him.

Azriel just had to cast him a cool look for his brother to relent, though he caught the half-smirk on the General’s face as he turned toward the group of priestesses warming up and began training.

It was during sparring that Nesta finally deigns to sidle up beside him as he watches a match. “So. What the hell’s going on between you and my sister?”

He stills for just a moment before erasing the reaction. He debates lying to his friend, but she’ll call him on it. He doesn't think she’ll warn him off her sister either, so finally he admits evenly, “Much less than I would like.”

The eldest Archeron huffs a laugh. “I appreciate you sparing me a lie. Honestly, Az? My sister is just supremely oblivious, clever as she is. If nothing else has worked at this point, you just need to lay one on her.”

He chokes and turns his head toward her. “I would never. Not without her express permission—”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Gods, males can be so boring. At the very least you need to sit her down and make sure she doesn’t leave until she understands exactly what your intentions are. Then you can lay one on her, if she’s amenable to it.”

Azriel takes a deep breath, letting the words sink into his turbulent mind. “I don’t want to scare her,” he admits after a pause.

“You won’t,” she replies instantly. “She’s not afraid of you, she never could be. In truth, my sister is scared of very little. But based on the fact that she’s never had a romantic attachment before, what seems like indifference is likely just borne out of nervousness.”

“I don’t want to make her nervous either.”

“It’s not you that does. It’s just—being vulnerable. Emotionally intimate with someone,” Nesta says. “Years of fighting with her have taught me that she’ll hide anything behind biting wit or a laugh and joke. I think that’s what makes it all the more difficult to understand.”

He doesn’t reply.

“But speaking not as her sister, she definitely is attracted to you,” Nesta continues. “Speaking as her sister?” He looks at her cool features. “Don’t fuck it up.” Then she stalks away to Gwyn and Emerie.

Azriel forces down a growl. Tonight. He'd do it tonight or hell, he'd go crazy from this dance around the line. He'd spent too many centuries wanting this, wanting companionship for him to squander an opportunity with, at last, a female that he connected so deeply with. A female that seemed to need his touch as badly as he needed hers.

So...yes. He'd had quite enough of waiting.

—

True to Azriel's word, it did end up being very cold today.

I forgo any ideas of taking a walk, but I did end up camping out in the warmth of Feyre's study, taking turns with her to organize some of her paperwork or play with Nyx on the floor. My nephew (and his poor parents) had had some rough nights due to the last dregs of his teething pain, but it was good to see him smiling and playing despite it all. Rhysand stopped in frequently, unable to stay from his mate and son for extended periods of time, and after the fourth time Feyre shooed him out with their laughing, squirming son in his arms.

Our bi-weekly dinner fell that evening. Usually I enjoyed it.

Usually.

The dinner was fine. But I was so chilled that I took the opportunity of warmth from any hot dish passed around to me. I shiver for the upteenth time as Azriel passes me the potatoes.

"Cold?" he murmurs close beside me, and I shiver again. Not from the cold, damn him.

"Freezing," I retort instead, scooping potatoes on my plate. "Doesn't Rhys have this place warded to hell? Why is it so drafty?"

Azriel chuckles lowly. "How do you know that it isn't just you?" he teases.

I shoot him a look. "No, no, Mr. 'Stay Warm Today', I'm quite certain it isn't."

He laughs again, and it warms me only temporarily. I finish before everyone else, per usual. Not only do I tend to eat fast, but I'm also not caught up in constant conversation. Bored, my eyes travel the room, around my friends. My family. Even in my relaxed, two-glasses-of-wine haze, my mind doesn't fail to notice how paired up they all seem to have gotten.

Feyre and Rhys feed a fussy Nyx in his highchair, Rhys's eyes roaming over his mate and child with unrepressed love. Cassian's arm was slung around Nesta's shoulder, my usually stoic sister slumped comfortably into his side. Varian looked down at Amren next to him like she was the most fascinating creature alive, which...wasn't entirely a subjective statement, considering her interesting history.

Even Elain was speaking in shy tones with Lucien, who watched her with amused adoration. I had been so proud of my younger sister for finally realizing that she could just as well choose him as not choose him. They were taking it slow, she'd been telling me recently, but she begrudgingly had found that her mate was, indeed, her perfect match.

But as with all my friends and family, my happiness for them comes at a cost. To myself.

I turn and opened my mouth to chase away the tightness in my chest, but found that the Spymaster next to me was turned away, engaging Mor in conversation on his other side.

I quickly clamp my mouth shut and instead go for my wine.

Gods, hadn't Feyre mentioned there was some sort of will-they won't-they situation between the two of them? Something that had been brewing for the five centuries they'd known each other? It was none of my business, of course, and I hardly paid attention, but even I noticed that it had been pretty consistently they-won't in the past few years of living here.

Right?

Azriel laughs at something she says, and suddenly I feel sick.

Cauldron. Was I going to be the only one left?

And even worse—had I also been imagining his forwardness with me as of late?

There's a rushing in my ears and I tune out completely, going blissfully blank.

I hardly recall cleanup. Or the migration to the living room. My body seems to draw itself to the fireplace, a hand lifting to drag a blanket off the back of an armchair as I settle on the floor before the flames.

And as I wrap the blanket around myself, shivering minutely, I can't bring myself to look at what I know I'll find behind me—each couple in the house cuddling for warmth.

—

Azriel's heart aches at the sight of her vibrating form in front of the fire.

He'd taken his place behind the armchair she usually sat in, hoping to finally coax her into having a conversation in the privacy of the hall. Or if things went well, his bedroom.

But instead he watched her walk as if unawake from the dining room to the fireplace in the living room. Unblinking. Not looking at anyone else.

He doesn't know what to do.

He also doesn't realize that a shadow had flitted to her until it came slinking back to his shoulder, whispering, Upset. Crying.

His heart broke. Oh, sweetheart.

He felt suspended in air, in time for a moment. Everyone was lounging, cuddling in their respective pairs, speaking quietly with one another. Distracted. So he took a gamble.

And silently pushed forward.

—

I felt him before I heard or saw him.

I lock up as I feel his warm body settle on the rug, not quite directly behind me, but not quite beside me either.

His touch was warm, intentional.

Mother, I needed intentional touch so badly.

I hadn't realize how upset I had gotten until the first cold tear spills down my cheek. I wipe hastily at it.

"Hey," he coos softly in my ear, his arm coming firmly around me and drawing me into him. I sniff, shooting a panicked glance over my shoulder since everyone was in the room right now. I barely register that his wings block any sight of the two of us from the rest of the room before his gentle hand guides my chin back to look up at him. "No one can see, sweet girl," he murmurs. "You're alright."

The lump tightens painfully in my throat as a second, third tear spill down my face. "Sorry," I mouth, unable to get any sound out.

"Stop," he whispers gently. "You're alright. You're safe." His hand slides to the back of my head and I let myself be guided to the shelter of his embrace, once again in his lap as I silently shake. "Are you feeling that way again?"

I nod silently.

He sighs. "Sweetheart. Why don't you just let me in?"

I untuck my wet face from his shoulder to glance confusedly up at him. "I...I am," I breathe. "You're—you're hugging me."

He shakes his head, cradling my face with both hands. "I mean: why don't you let me into that head of yours? That world? Most importantly, why can't you just let me into your heart?"

Said heart seems to stutter and stop beating.

There's a long moment where my lips don't form words, don't do anything except lay parted, slack. "What do you mean?" I finally blurt, a note of tightness in my voice.

His jaw works and he sighs heavily through his nose. "Sweetheart, is it so impossible to understand that this whole time you've found yourself lonely at the sight of everyone paired off that maybe I want to be that person for you? Your person?"

"Wh—you?" I sputter on a whisper as everything dawns, hell, practically crashes down upon me. The denial comes a split second after. "No."

"Yes."

My expression shutters in emotion. "There's no way—"

"There is," he murmurs with an adoring smile on his handsome face, thumbs brushing at my tears. "And you can't change that, ever. But what you can do is let me in."

I take a shuddery breath, in and out. "Let you in?"

He nods.

"Be my person?" I croak. "And I be yours?"

The words seem to have an effect on him, his chest puffing for a moment before deflating again. His hands cradle my face like I'm precious. I've never felt more so than in his lap. "Yes, sweet girl. Mine. And I, yours."

A release another uneven breath, feeling my body go warm all over. "I—I never thought that I...that you could want this with me. Could want me," I rasp.

He smiles. "But I do. I have for a long time."

I let out a little wet laugh. "Gods, I—" I shake my head. "I don't feel like asking questions right now. I've wanted you too, for so long. I just didn't want to delude myself, to make a fool of myself in front of you when you're so..."

He raises a brow but his eyes remain warm. "So?"

"So perfect, damn you," I finish, no real malice behind my words. When he laughs this time, I feel it seep directly through my chest and into my soul.

"You're the perfect one, sweetheart," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to my hairline like he had those weeks ago. "In more ways than one." He draws back to look at me, and I return his gaze with nothing but openness, with love. Then he breathes, "May I kiss you?"

Heat blooms across my cheeks, but I give him a little nod. "You may."

He dips his chin ever so slowly, and when his soft, full lips finally meet mine, my eyes slip shut. Tentative, and so gentle with me, he dares his tongue over my bottom lip. Though I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, I let him through.

The first swipe of his tongue, this hungrier kiss sets my soul ablaze, his hands travel to wrap around my waist, drawing my chest against his.

We kiss quietly yet needy for Cauldron knows how long. All I know is that I’m breathless, fuzzy, and light by the time I draw away softly. He chases my lips a moment more before settling his forehead against mine.

Breathing the same air.

A giddy smile tugs at my features, and I giggle with blushing embarrassment. “They definitely know what’s going on,” I whisper, fighting the urge to peek. He chuckles lowly and draws me closer, depositing a kiss on my shoulder, my jaw, then my lips.

“I sent them out,” he replies. My brows raise. “I told Rhys mind-to-mind that if he didn’t get everyone out, I’d quit.”

A laugh bubbles up within me. “Liar. He just decided to have mercy on us. On me, at least.”

Azriel grins, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Boyish. Free.

“Kiss me again,” I whisper. And he does.

That night, he takes me to his room, scooping me under the covers and into his body. I’m too wired, too happy to fall asleep right away. It’s when I watch him slip into dreamland, the most relaxed I’ve seen him, that there’s a tug within my chest.

A soft glow flickers to life deep in my soul. I smile and let the tears fall as I feel what I think is the bond.

I settle in. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

•••

NOTE: i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it! i have an idea for a short series taking place post-ACOSF, where Reader is part of a group in Montesere that’s sort of adjacent to the Valkyries, and she comes to visit the Library, so I’ll start drafting if anyone is interested k love you bye! -diri

TAG LIST: @lilah-asteria @salvatoresister1 @a-courtof-azriel @thestartitaness @casiiopea2 @kk191327 @missxmarvelous @saltedcoffeescotch

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Fern x Reader PT3(Final)

part 1

part 2

a/n: this is the final part of Fern’s main story, but not the end! You can still make Fern requests and I may rewrite this mini series in the future when I have time.

Fern had been depressed lately. He was a fairy, a dainty little thing, and you were now pregnant. He watched as you waddled around, struggling to do things.

If he were just bigger, he could ensure you never had to lift a finger.

All he could do was use magic to help when he could. Vines sprouted to grab things out of your reach or play with your pussy when you were feeling needy.

Fern wanted you so badly, to properly fuck into you and stretch out your fat cunt like he had before.

At night his wings fluttered softly as he rubbed your pregnant belly, kissing it. When his child was born, would he even be big enough to hold them? It made his heart ache to even think of such a thing. How could he protect his family when he was the size of a small doll?

That’s why he made a tough decision. Fern backed a bag, kissed your forehead and promised he would be back.

There were tales of a witch that lived in the center of the forest. She’d grant a single wish for anyone that came to her… but for a price.

He knocked once on the dirty window, noticing it was cracked and the wooden frame was chipped. Did anyone even live there?

The door creaked open, an old crone beckoning him in. “Hurry, I don’t have all day. Go on and tell me what you want.”

Fern sat on an upside down teacup, watching as the witch bustled about the dusty old cabin looking through books and half empty potion bottles.

“Uh… I wanted to know if you can make me… the size of a human.”

The witch paused, glancing at him. “I can, for a price. What are you willing to give me in exchange?”

~

It had been an entire day since you last saw Fern. He wasn’t the type to be out late, always returning before dark, so it was alarming that he had been gone for more than a few hours.

It was a bit hard walking now. You were six months along, but looked like you were closer to nine. Fern liked to joke that you seemed about ready to burst while laying his tiny head on your belly.

You could tell that his size was bothering him even more lately. As your pregnancy progressed, you needed more help, the kind someone as small as him couldn’t provide.

Despite what others may think, Fern was a proud fairy and hated that he wasn’t able to help his pregnant lover.

Fern wanted to provide and care for you, but that wasn’t really possible when he couldn’t even do most things for himself.

When the second day without any sightings of him filled around, you started to panic. It really wasn’t like him to be gone so long, especially when you were carrying his child.

‘Where could he be?’

Nearly a week passed without him. It was both depressing and terrifying, leaving you nearly bedridden at times. Everything seemed harder with Fern gone.

Even if he couldn’t do much of the heavy lifting, he used his magic to keep you from getting morning sickness, always comforted you when you were hormonal, and made sure all of your vegetables stayed fresh.

Without him, the world felt cold and uninviting. He made all the gray clouds disappear, but now that he was gone the sun had left with him.

You sat in your rocking chair as tears fell down your cheeks. After crying so much, your eyes were puffy and sore.

Even knitting for your unborn child was a chore these days, and you had only finished a single foot when you heard a knock at your door.

For a moment you thought Fern would be behind it… but that was stupid. He was the size of your hand, there’s no way he could knock that loud.

You didn’t rush to greet your guest. Instead you slowly put down the onesie you had been knitting and stood.

Trudging towards the door, you slowly unlocked it and pulled towards yourself…

“Hello, my love.”

You were breathless, eyes wide and mouth agape as you looked up to see a hair of brown curls and eyes as green as fresh oak leaves.

A hand reached out, cupping your cheek and swiping at your tears as you began to cry.

“Fern…”

You sobbed into his chest, warms wrapped tightly around him. He hugged you back, his eyes softening when your baby bump pressed into his abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, love. There was something I had to take care of, something so important I had to leave you for a while.”

As your lip wobbled, Fern began to explain what had happened.

After the witch asked him what he’d give in return, Fern was quick to answer.

“My immortality.”

You covered your mouth, eyes going wide as you swallowed harshly. “You… gave that up to be the same size as me?”

He nodded, smiling fondly as he tilted your chin up. “And I’d do it a thousand times over, love.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to yours a gentle, yet needy kiss. Although it felt amazing to kiss him after such a stressful week without him, you pulled back after a moment.

“But… why did you stay away for so long?”

Fern went pale, scratching the back of his head with a nervous laugh. “Let’s just say the process to become tall was… long and painful. That old witch enjoyed it too, I’m sure.”

After a moment of simply enjoying each other’s presence, you both walked inside.

After that, Fern waited on you hand and foot. He adored you, that was for sure. Every meal, activity, and even bathroom visit was managed by him.

Fern smiled down at you as he helped you into a bath, his eyes lingering in your heavy and swollen breasts.

When you hissed and winced in pain as your hands brushed against your sensitive nipples, Fern cooed out sympathetically.

“Here, just relax.”

His wings fluttered as his hands groped your fat tits, massaging and squishing them lightly. You let out such a delicious noise that he couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss your neck.

Fern’s cock twitched to life when milk spurted from your perky buds. He always got so hard when he was reminded you were heavily pregnant with his young.

��That’s it, feels good doesn’t it?”

His hand slipped between your legs, a vine replacing the now missing one at your tit while his other continued massaging you.

“Mmph… Fern…”

You had been so needy lately, begging for him to properly fuck you since he had returned. But he was hesitant. Fern didn’t want to potentially harm you or his unborn child…

But with some reassurance from you, the fairy joined you in the tub. He settled you onto his lap, continuing his ministrations.

His cock nudged at your warm cunt, desperate to be enveloped by your velvety walls.

And you wanted him just as much.

Fern groaned against your neck, keeping a hand on your baby bump for leverage as he bounced you up and down on his cock. It felt so good to stretch you out again and have you clench around him.

The vines rubbed at your clit, making you tighten up even more. You came again and again, your body way more sensitive due to your pregnancy.

He loved getting to fill you up with his seed. Watching the hot, white cum leak out of your cunt as he rinsed you off made him want to do it all over again.

But Fern wanted to go easy on you until after your pregnancy.

~

Months passed by, and Fern held onto your hand as you gave birth. Labor hadn’t been easy, but he was by your side the entire time.

“It’s a girl…”

You held onto your baby, eyes half lidded from exhaustion. Fern was an absolute mess, his eyes puffy and red as he sniffled.

“She’s beautiful…”

Fern handled almost everything as you recovered, and as your baby girl grew, her wings started to slowly develop.

“She has wings… is she..?”

“Immortal? Maybe, but I’m not sure… I impregnated you before the witch took my immortality, but she is half human…”

You kissed her little head, letting her nurse as your now husband knelt in front of you.

“I don’t want that for her, Fern. She would outlive all of us. Wouldn’t that be lonely?”

Fern paused to think, slowly reaching out to place a hand over your belly.

“… it wouldn’t be if we… gave her a sibling.”

And so the two of you had several children through the years, slowly repopulating the fairy race. You’d grow old together, and even if your children lived forever, at least they would have each other.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[mixingandmelting]

hey so for the batboys, what kind of romantic accidents do you think happen to them? Like imagine Nightwing falling on top of s/o and you think it’s gonna be romantic but s/o just kneed him in the dick by accident and s/o banged their head on the floor?

Dick:

Ow. Ouch. Mother of all owies and her children. He’s in so much pain. A groan slips past his lips as he collapses all the while clutching where it hurts the most. To much of his shame as a vigilante and dog owner, he didn’t notice Haley’s toy lying there on the floor. And you happened to be standing right in front of him. It would’ve been more romantic had his lips landed on yours, maybe even going as far as starting a make-out session. Not getting mini-him kneed out of the reflex of your head slamming into wood. 

“Ow… Oh my god, Dick are you okay-?”

Glad to hear his misery relieves your pain from the snort you let out. Most definitely at him in fetal position, recovering from the unwarranted attack. He really does love you. Call him a sap all you want; he wouldn’t trade you for anything else in the world, all his desires and everything he dreams you take the shape of and embody. And he knows you feel the same way. Or so he hopes. Right now is the moment of truth. Whether you’ll spare him the embarrassment and comfort him like all other good significant others. He means, it is technically your fault so-

“Do, ahem, do you want ice? For you know… down there?”

Oh for crying out loud.  

“No.” He throws a feeble glare at you over his shoulder.You do realize he can see your shoulders shaking, right? Few minutes later and a nice back-patting session (much to his relief and humiliation), he’s sulking. Hardcore sulking. Leading to the repeat of what happened prior to the incident, this time with roles reserved where you’re following him around like a lost duckling and him continually walking away with his arms crossed. 

Jason:

Strings of curses leave his mouth, pain throbbing from his nose. That had to be one of the hardest headbutt he ever experienced. He was trying to prevent you from banging your head onto the corner of the table after he saw you trip. But as he pulled you toward him, his foot got stuck in the bottom ledge of the sofa that he failed to remember was right behind him.  Bet on your breath mingling with his, face too close for comfort. In all the wrong ways. 

Seems like you’re faring better than him, slowly sitting up on top of him and rubbing your head. 

“Oof, you alright Jaybi- Oh my god you’re bleeding!”

He pulls the hand that he was using to rub his nose away to check. Huh, he really is. He lets out a grunt which you mistake as him hurting when it’s from losing your warmth abruptly when you slide off him. He wanted you to stay, not leave. He can never get tired of your presence, always wanting to bask in it 24/7. Hence the scowl behind his hand when he fails miserably to grab and stop you before getting up to start the process in stopping the bleed. 

Soon you come back with tissues, ice, and wet towels. Stuffing tissues into the hand that’s cradling his nose, you hold the ice to the back of his neck with one hand while the other is wiping the rest of the blood off. 

You don’t notice the devious gleam in his eyes, too busy inspecting if he’s injured anywhere else . Good. With a satisfied smirk plasters his face, you yelp from surprise as he pulls up and plops you down back on his lap. Yep, he already feels much better. 

Tim: 

He can hear his heart beating in his ears, the other four of his senses going into overdrive. You’re so close, a sheet of paper’s width away from him. Should he do it? Maybe he should do it. Lean a little bit closer and he would have his lips on yours anyways, so why not? 

“Ow!”

“Who the- What? Ti-, no, Re-, no, Babe?”

He stumbles back and wheezes. He probably deserved getting punched in the guts. He saw you on your phone and a second away from bumping into one of Penguin’s men. So he panicked, okay? Grabbing and caging you in a random alley, against the brick wall before the worst case scenario happens. He doesn’t blame you, having everything occurred in the spur of the moment. And How would you know it was him anyways? 

Or that’s what he tells himself to feel better anyways. He used to tease you were made of stone whenever you jabbed him or did something silly. Now He’s starting to believe it’s true because man, despite you always being sweet and tender to him (to which he’ll always crave and cherish), you pack a mean punch. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was you and I thought I was getting kidnapped-“

“It-it’s fine.” Another wheeze. “I should’ve told you it was me.” 

Your eyes say otherwise when you somehow manage to lift his shirt showing Purple and blue blooming on his side. An argument ensues with him listing reasons why he didn’t need to get checked by Alfred as he didn’t need his “siblings” getting their hands on more black mail. Until you pull him towards you. Needless to say, he walks out of the alley with you hand-in-hand, heading towards a nearby urgent care. 

Duke:

The two of you are sitting by the hospital’s entrance. Your eyes are puffy with his belongings in your lab. He’s simply holding on his crutches. All he wanted was to experience his heroic moment of saving his loved one. And today, the opportunity came after school. Served on a silver platter and everything. You had slipped on the last few steps of the stairs and he, like usual, was waiting for you at his usual spot that’s next to them. He, thankfully, was able to catch you. Just. Not in his arms. 

“Duke!?” 

“I’m okay…”

“Like hell, you are!”

You were inconsolable during the ride and after he got admitted to the ER. He kept telling you it was fine, that it was on him had he not second-guessed at the very last second on what posture he was supposed to take on. But no matter what he said, you were dead silent, not making eye contact with him. It only got worse when the doctor told him he not only fractured his ribs, he sprained his ankle. His heart broke when he saw your hands pressed onto your face. All he wanted was to make himself appear dependable, someone you can always count on. 

“What?”

Oh shit. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. Slowly you got up from your chair. He braced himself for what was to come. When Bruce entered the room, he didn't know, other than seeing man nodding on the side to everything you said. Fast forward back to now, where he continues to fidget next to you.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid for the next month, cause I’ll be checking in on you everyday.”

“Everyday?”

Dammit Bruce, he should've been benched for two months! Then he could’ve had two months of getting to hang out with you! 

Damian:

“Stop hitting me!”

“You stop hitting me!”

It’s been five minutes into the game of Hide-and-Seek Bat family version and somehow he’s stuck in a cabinet under the tea display case with you. It’s only because he loves you that stopped him from kicking you out (he ignores how it was you who found this place first). But now, he’s having second thoughts. The space can barely hold a single person and yet here two of you are, cramped and squished in the most uncomfortable positions. Forget about blushing or self awareness, it’s sweltering hot and difficult to breathe! You both tried everything, rearranging yourselves in every way and the only position that was deemed better than the rest is where your backs are against each other, arms wrapped around the thighs and feet propped up against the wooden walls. 

“Stop squirming or you’re going to get us caught!”

“Not everyone is as flexible as you!”

Quickly he jabs you, signalling another person entering the dining room. Though he found it odd. Just how poorly did everyone hide to get caught this easily? A minute passes. Two minutes. The person doesn’t leave and now he’s starting to get nervous. Out of nowhere, he realizes how pressed closed he is to you. Your body heat seeping into his and his into you. He has no plans to ever reveal to you how you are the only person who can ever make him feel at peace nor how he enjoys the colors you bring to his life. With these thoughts plaguing him, he succumbs and slowly lets his arm reach behind him so he could grab your hand.

“All right you love birds, that’s enough!”

You both tumble out and see the shit-eating grins everyone has on their face. Embarrassment and dread settles in. Those jerks knew and had planned to out him this whole time!

[gay-dorito-dust]

I can't stop thinking about the batboys in a relationship and their significant other doing that trend where you call your boyfriend your husband. Like just randomly mid conversation they'd be like "my husband". I wonder how the batboys would feel about that.

I’m currently in mourning of my snakebites (they might be healed up after I took them out for one fucking day, sounds dramatic I know but I genuinely can’t get them back in) so rip to them I guess haha(laughing but crying real tears 🥲)

Dick

He acts like he knew you’d would call him husband one day but on the inside he was trying not to explode with how badly that word affected him.

Husband.

He didn’t think he would fit the mould for a perfect husband, yeah sure he’s great in many aspects when it comes down to it, but Dick still has a fear that he still didn’t measure up and that he’d end up letting you down sooner or later.

Yet hearing you call him your husband with confidence and pride only had him feeling as though he was falling for you all over again as his vision seemly became brighter, Gotham’s dark and miserable aesthetic had become a little more tolerable for Dick.

Within a blink of an eye he’s holding your face, his beautiful blue eyes shimmering like gemstones, and before you could say anything your face was being bombarded with rapid fire kisses and sweet nothings to accompany them.

‘You want to marry me? Awww you’re so definitely in love with me!’ - Dick would say teasingly.

‘Dick we’ve been dating for a while now-‘

‘Shhhh, let’s enjoy this moment sweetheart.’ Dick would cut you off as he holds you closer to his chest, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead as he felt a warm and welcoming feeling within his chest as he could only imagine the day where you got to obviously call each other mrs/mr Grayson or spouse.

It made dick impatient for the future, but he knew he couldn’t rush perfection.

Jason

Smug prick.

That’s all I’m going to say is that the moment you call him your husband, he’s got a smirk upon his face but his eyes are soft and filled with unspoken love and affection.

He genuinely didn’t think he’d ever get to a point where he would have someone to call him own, to call his home and have something that was his and wouldn’t run away when he comes back from patrol bloody and bruised.

He didn’t think a domestic life was for him but with you, there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t doing something domestic like folding clothes, or doing the dishes together; it was moments where Jason is proven wrong that makes him feel more compelled to think towards the future, or more specifically a future with you where he’d one day stop being a vigilante for good and settle down.

So hearing you call him your husband has this man on cloud nine and a hell of a lot happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. Expect to be hugged tightly from behind with his faces buried deep into your neck as he just breaths you in and reminds himself that this was all real, that this wasn’t some fantasy dream he’ll wake up from; Jason will be reminded that this is his life and it’s a hell of a lot better with you in it that was for certain.

Damian

Doesn’t outwardly show his reaction but his actions afterwards will definitely show what really thinks.

He’s doing more domestic tasks with and for you without hesitation, treating you to lovely outings with Titus and Ace within the park where he’s holding you from behind and smiling at you when your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

With Damian he doesn’t verbally say he how he felt about being called your husband, he just acts like he is your husband by spoiling you rotten with gifts and quality time with him, for he soon came to realise that his time with you was few and far between for his own liking.

He does everything he can in his power to prove that he would be a reliable husband one day, he even does chores that you put on yourself in hopes that eases the long, long list of things to do you’ve already given yourself. He doesn’t like it when you’re stressed and can’t do everything within an unrealistic timeframe that you’ve set for yourself.

However there are still some things that Damian keeps up his sleeves as he’s not found of showing all of his little tricks when there’s room for him to surprise you later on down the line. He acts like your husband because he will become your husband in the distant future, one that’ll be safer than the times you are both were living in now; he just won’t tell you but he will give you hints in hopes you’d able to see them beforehand.

Tim

He stops.

Literally.

Like he has completely stopped what he’s doing and tries to piece together whether or not he did in fact heard what you had just said.

So he waits for you in hopes that you’d say it again and when you do, he’s beaming, he’s smiling as wide as he possibly can.

So once he’s done being frozen to the spot, acting as though he’s just completely shut down from the inside, his laptop would have multiple tabs open with stuff such as;

‘How to be a good husband (with pictures)’

‘Be a better husband by avoiding these 21 common mistakes.’

‘15 small ways to be a better husband, from a marriage therapist.’

And ‘25 qualities of a good husband’

He wasn’t playing when it comes to preparing in being a husband that you can be proud of and gush about to your friends, not only that but also becoming that cliche couple that might as well still be in their honeymoon phase. He just wants to be ready and prepared when the day does become reality and he might as well have folders upon folders of advice that he had stored away for future reference.

It didn’t matter whether or not you meant it when you called him your husband because Tim was more than ready to learn how to be one for the distant future, for being married to you would be a daydream for sweet Tim and he wanted your marriage to be a long and happy one.

[rqyup]

hii ive been reading your works recently and I'd like to know ur thoughts abt the mls', reaction towards a jealous mc hehe :O

Jealous MC???!!

a/n.. will edit soon 🥹

Sylus

Oh, he’s absolutely smug. Sylus thrives on teasing, so the moment he realizes you’re jealous, he’s all sly smirks and playful comments like, “Didn’t know you cared so much, sweetheart.” But deep down, it strokes his ego in a way that has him softening toward you. He might even push it just a little—just to see if you’ll claim him

Zayne

Zayne would be confused at first, not understanding why you’re upset. Once he pieces it together, he’s quietly flattered but doesn’t want you to feel insecure. He’ll reassure you with practical logic, like, “You’re the one I’m with. They don’t matter.” He’s too rational to get caught up in the drama but will hold your hand a little tighter to make you feel secure.

Xavier

Xavier would find your jealousy both adorable and endearing, though he wouldn’t dare say it outright. Instead, he’d subtly remind you of his loyalty; soft smiles, casual touches, and reassuring words like, “There’s no one else I’d rather deal with.” He’s good at balancing reassurance and humor, so you end up feeling silly for doubting him.

Rafayel

Rafayel hates the idea of you being upset or feeling threatened. He’s all-in on reassuring you, making it crystal clear that no one else could possibly compare. “Do you really think I’d look at anyone else when you’re right here?” His sincerity and intensity leave no room for doubt. He’ll spoil you a little extra after, just to ease your worries.

Caleb

Caleb’s reaction depends on how you express your jealousy. If it’s subtle, he’ll quietly drop hints to ease your mind, a lingering glance or a soft, “You know you’re my favorite, right pipsqueak?” If you’re more obvious about it, he might chuckle and say something teasing but sweet, like, “Guess I’ll have to be careful before a certain someone gets hurt.” Either way, he’s secretly loving the attentoin

masterlist

[ferrarifinnick]

UP ALL NIGHT! | KANG DAE-HO

dae-ho x reader

warnings: implication of impending violence, mentions of squid game canon violence, weapons.

thinking about kang dae-ho insisting you sleep on the bottom bunks with him during lights out so he can protect you. one arm slung around your body, holding you so close to his chest that he’d wake if you moved an inch.

his lunch fork would be clenched tightly between his fingers, hidden under the pillow so as to not worry you to the danger lurking on the other side of the room. he’d be ready to jab the long silver prongs into anyone that dared get too close.

spare mattresses would be set up around the spot you slept as makeshift barricades, all under the guise of privacy. but really dae-ho was buying himself time to react if he didn’t notice anyone creeping over in the shadows. every second counted when it came to keeping you safe. every second.

something the games made him painfully aware of.

“dae-ho?” you mumbled sleepily, shifting in his hold. “why aren’t you asleep?”

he leaned in and pressed his lips to your hair. “shh,” he soothed. “go back to sleep, baby.”

“have you slept at all?” you asked, and he slipped a hand under your shirt to rub circles against your tummy.

“of course,” he lied, pressing another kiss to your cheek this time. “sleep,” he ordered, “now.”

you wanted to pout and protest, but the heaviness of your eyelids won. dae-ho held you as you fell back asleep, relieved that you could again be blissfully unaware of the danger in the dark. but not dae-ho. he wouldn’t close his eyes longer than a blink, too afraid of what lurked in the shadows. too afraid of what could happen to you if he wasn’t ready to leap to your defence at any given moment.

he stroked your hair, tightened his grip on the fork, and narrowed his eyes at the shadows. even with his friends all awake and alert like him, he worried that he’d need more than a fork to keep you safe.

but he was big and he was strong, and as long as you were in his arms, he would stop at nothing to keep his girl alive.

need dae-ho to hold me tight ngl. like, comment, reblog. love <3

[moonstruckme]

hi !! can i request a sirius x whimsical! reader? maybe sirius and reader meeting for the first time or him revealing their relationship to the other marauders? Whatever you like best <33 Happy New Years !!

My shayla <3333 Thanks for requesting angel, happy new years to you too!

cw: near-miss motorcycle accident

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 843 words

Sirius likes to take his bike out at night. He’ll find any excuse to do it, a shortage of sugar or a hankering for chips or an urge to visit James across town. And tonight is perfect for a ride; the wind is cool as it whips past his jacket and tangles in his hair, the roads are near desolate, and neon signs and lit windows smear across the edges of Sirius’ vision as he flies through green lights. This is to say, he’s really having a rather good night when you nearly end both of your lives. 

You’re hardly a shadowy figure stepping out into the road, gaze skyward and green traffic light casting you in ghostly silhouette. Sirius’ breath catches in his throat as his tires squeal against the asphalt. He barely manages to come to a stop. 

“Oi!” 

You turn towards him like you’ve only just realized he’s there. You probably have. The light casts a green halo around you and obscures your face, but Sirius can see your eyes fall on him curiously. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, walking out right in front of me?” he asks, heart beating a mile a minute. 

“I’m sorry.” You’re surprisingly calm for someone who’s just faced death. Your voice is like the wind whistling through trees. Sirius finds himself leaning forward to hear it. “Was I in your way?” 

He laughs, appalled. “Yeah! Yeah, I’d say so, seeing as I was going up to a green light and suddenly you were in the middle of the street.” 

“But…” You glance down at his bike. “...couldn’t you have gone around?” 

Sirius might laugh again, if you didn’t sound so genuinely curious. As it is, he’s shocked into silence. A single, disbelieving breath puffs into the space between you. 

You take a few steps toward him. Your features come more into focus, pretty and innocently perplexed. Your brows bend with concern. 

“Are you alright?” 

Sirius finds himself nodding. “Yeah,” he says. “Though I wouldn’t have been, if I hadn’t seen you in time. Neither would you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say again. You seem to mean it. 

Sirius leans his elbows on his handlebars, bike still rumbling beneath him. He finds, oddly, that the anger at your transgression has left him. The light is red now, but you hold his gaze, still standing in the middle of the crosswalk. You seem unsure of what to do next. Sirius has the inexplicable sense that you won’t leave until you feel things have been righted. 

He asks, “Why are you wandering about at this hour, anyway?” 

It’s not his business and he knows it, but this doesn’t seem to occur to you. 

“I was looking for the moon,” you say. 

Sirius blinks. “The moon.” He was expecting you to be out for milk or biscuits, not the moon. 

You nod. 

“Why?” 

“I can’t see it from my apartment,” you say, as though that explains it. 

“But why do you need to see it?” 

Your brow furrows like Sirius has said an odd thing. “I want to,” you reply simply. 

Sirius sucks his teeth, considering you. “I got a glimpse of it earlier,” he says, pointing East with his chin. “Over there. It wasn’t very impressive, I have to tell you. Only a sliver.” 

At his description, your face lights up. “Really?” you ask, as animated as you’ve been this whole while. “How thin? Was it bright?” 

Clearly, Sirius isn’t going to dissuade you. 

“I can try and help you find it, if you want.” He says it without any plan to, like the words are simply pulled from him. “My bike’s a bit faster than going on foot.” 

You smile. It’s sweeter and more brilliant than the moon could ever hope for. “Really?” 

“Sure.” 

You look eager, but hesitate. “Are you going to abduct me as revenge for crossing the street in front of you?” 

Sirius laughs, but sobers when he realizes you’re not joking. 

“I did think about it,” he says, “but I’ve decided not to, no.” 

“All right, then.” You step up to his bike, sliding one leg easily over the seat in back of Sirius. You take hold of him without him telling you, and through the material of his shirt your hands feel cool against his abdomen. 

When the light turns green again, Sirius sets off at a crawl. You press closer, winding your arms tighter around his waist. He’s going slow enough that the breeze barely catches in his hair. He turns to speak to you. 

“I have to ask,” he says, “do you really believe I won’t kidnap you just because I said I wouldn’t?” 

Your lips come so close to his ear Sirius has to fight a shiver when you speak. “I don’t think you’re a liar.” 

“So you don’t think I’d lie, but you did think I might kidnap you?” 

“You don’t seem like a liar; you do seem like someone who enjoys revenge.” 

Sirius grins into the wind. You might just have him figured out. 

[henry7931]

Carter’s Body Is A Party

Dan:

Ahhh shit! I think I fucked up. The crazy thing is— this isn’t even my body. It belongs to this 21 year old kid name Carter. Kinda a long story but I basically talked him into switching bodies with me. Well okay, I know how that sounds! Let me correct myself we mutually agreed to the swap but I initiated it. You see I’m 39 years old, single, handsome I might add. But when I met Carter, I felt like I had a chance to really live carefree again.

We were in a bar when I first laid my eyes on Carter a couple weeks back. I was sitting alone, I frequent this bar a lot since it’s in walking distance to my place and he was sitting by himself as well… l kept noticing that he was staring at me which felt good. He’s a good looking young guy. He looked liked the kinda guy I’d beg for attention from at his age.

Eventually he came up to me and offered to get me a drink. I tried to turn him down but he was so persistent. After a while of him flirting with me really hard, I decided to let my guard down.

We talked for hours at that bar, taking shot after shot. I eventually invited him to come back to my place.

That is where I had the bright drunken idea of us swapping bodies.

“Carter, you are sooooo fine,” I said to him drunkenly. “I think I want to be you…let’s swap bodies!! It would be sooo hot!”

He didn’t believe me at first but then I pulled out a magical ring that’s been passed down through my family.

We started to make out a bit and we both ended up stripping off all of our clothes down to our underwear.

I look at Carter’s young face… he said to me, “fuck, I hope this is real. I wanna be able to touch your body every morning.”

My dick got hard at the thought of being able to do the same in his. Carter ran his fingers through my chest hair and says, “you’re such a fine ass man Dan. I’d do anything…”

“Fuck well I’m about to make both of our dreams come true. You ready?,” I say putting on the ring.

“Fuck yeah!”

As I slid on the ring, I said his name aloud. I just a split second both of us passed out.

As I started to come too, I immediately knew I was Carter. I sat up and saw Carter filling up my chest.

I thought he would be freaked out. Instead he seemed so amazed.

I watch him navigate slowly with my hands… touching my chest, my nipples…

He worked his way down until eyes met my dick which was about to pop out of my underwear at any moment

“can I?,” he said with the softest tone.

“It’s your body right now.”

Carter pulled out my dick and began to fondle it in front of me.

I was so turned by his excitement about having my body. I got up and immediately started sucking my body off.

Carter watched me work my own cock for him. I felt my bigger hands run through Carter’s hair.

And I felt him pull back and grab his chin.

“Dan, let’s get in bed.”

I pull off his underwear and saw all of Carter’s naked body for the first time. His cock was long and eager. His pubes were trimmed down (unlike mine) and he had these cute tight balls.

Carter felt up and down his junk for me.

“Does your hands feel good on my cock?,” he says to me with a grin.

“Yeah it does,” I say back to him.

I look down at Carter’s legs and then at his sexy boyish feet.

That’s when Carter began to run my tongue up and down his shaft. I could feel my stubble glide across his ballsack.

“Fuck, I can tell this is going to be a long night!,” I say to him.

Carter and I fucked around for hours. We would take turns edging each other and showing one another how each other’s bodies respond. Neither one of us wanted to cum.

But I was the first one to blow my load. And he came shortly after me.

Both of us laid in bed licking cum off of each other. Shortly after I felt my naked body wrap its arms around me and we cuddled off to sleep.

By morning, we made an agreement. We keep each other’s bodies until one of us says we’re ready to swap back.

Listen, I knew I was going to go back to my life and my body at some point. I was just not prepared for the wild ride of Carter’s life.

I soon found out that was a college student who parties a lot!

I mean the schedule was already made for me. I’d go to his class which was a surprisingly easy for me. And then his friend sends in a text…

“A total rager is going down tonight boys!”

“Who wants to go out and hit the bars?”

“House party at my place tonight!”

It was nonstop and I couldn’t get enough of it.

It took me no time to get to know his friends but I do think it’s because I’m the best looking in the crew and I’m confident several want to get into my pants.

Which I may have let a few of them do so…

Although, they have noticed a difference in me. Which is that I have zero fear of showing off myself, especially this body.

Most nights I’d even refuse to wear a shirt!

I went from constant hook ups, hard core clubbing…

But then we went to a concert and I may have taken it too far…

All of us were having a good time when I came across this handsome guy.

“Sup! My names Carter,” I said to him with a grin.

“Hey, you’re cute. You wanna make out?,” said the handsome stranger.

“Fuck yeah!”

This guy and I made out for a while at the concert. Neither of us gave a fuck about anyone around us.

That’s when I felt him unbuckle my pants…

All I could think of in the back of my head was… am I really about to get my dick sucked out in the open at a concert???

Before I could even think, Carter’s dick was out of his pants and this guy was on his knees.

“Holy shit Carter!” I hear one of his friends say in the background.

The guy sucking me off was sooo good at it. I couldn’t even think straight.

“Dude! Carter!! The police!!!”

The second I came down this guy’s throat, the police came up and caught us red handed.

Luckily, I didn’t get charged with anything. But they did take me to jail along with the other guy.

We both sat quietly the entire ride.

And when they put us in a cell both of us sat awkwardly.

All I could say in that moment was, “man I messed up.”

The guy looked over at me nervously, “I did too Dan.”

It took me a second to register him using my real name.

“Carter?”

“Yeah it’s me…”

“What the fuck??!? Where is my body???”

“Well with this guy… I don’t know. It was a really dumb idea. He came over to your place. I showed him the ring and then the next morning I couldn’t find him in your body. Plus he stole your ring!”

“CARTER!!!”

“I’m sorry!!!”

I watched as the other handsome 20 something, cried his eyes out. I wanted to be so mad at him. But then I remembered just how foolish I’ve been in his body.

Shortly after one of Carter’s friends posted my bail and I ended up doing the same for the actual Carter.

Weeks passed while Carter and I tried our hardest to find my body. But unfortunately we had no luck. Carter and I eventually grew a fondness for each other.

I graduated college the following spring and Carter got a nice job with his body. It helped that the stranger that took my body was already somewhat successful in life.

Both of managed to get a nice place together. Although life seems kind of boring now, we do frequent a club on an occasion.

[theatresteph]

Cole,

I don’t know if you’ll find this, in fact I doubt you ever will. In some ways, I hope you don’t. But this is my message in a bottle.

I know you left social media for your mental health, and I understand that. I understand that you needed to get away from all this, that it was hurting you. I also understand that it was so bad that you couldn’t even tell me, couldn’t even say goodbye.

I understand all of it.

Even so, I miss you.

Almost a year ago, I reached out into the void, just to know you were alive. A mutual friend helped me look around, she assured me you were okay. She gave you a message from me. I just wanted to know you were alright, and to let you know that you could reach out any way you wanted to, any time at all. That was enough, knowing you were okay.

But it’s been 21 months since I heard from you. Not a messenger, not someone I have to just trust is telling me the truth and not what I want to hear, but you. And it’s you I miss talking to.

It didn’t matter to me that we met online. It didn’t matter that we’ve always had the entire Pacific Ocean between us. It didn’t matter because we had this invisible string to connect us together. I knew you needed to log off now and then, sometimes weeks or even a couple months at a time. It was okay, because you always came back, even just for a second, just to let me know you were okay.

But after all this time, I guess I have to accept that the string is broken. The mutual friend has gone too. They all have. There’s no trace of you left anymore. I gave you ways to contact me, but you haven’t. If you’re still alive, you’ve moved on. You mustn’t worry about me like I did about you. I’m probably just a memory in your new life, if I even mattered that much at all.

But if you’re reading this, don’t pity me. Don’t suddenly decide to re-tie the string just because you think I’m miserable without you. I’m not. I’m doing pretty well, and life goes on. That doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to miss you. Hell, if I thought it would work or that you would care, I’d write this in a letter and address it to the entire state of Arizona, just on the off-chance that it would find you. But I have more sense than that.

I guess you’re my heartworm. You’re that person that still matters to me, the unfinished friendship. I can’t pretend not to still care about you. I loved you, I missed you, I hoped for you, and then I mourned the loss of you. Of us. Because for me, there was an us. You were someone I could share everything with, someone I looked forward to hearing from. You were my friend, and I hate to think of you as something else. I can recall your face, and I still have love for you. What I can’t recall is whether you would get that folklore reference, but that’s what we’ve come to. All I have left of you is backlogged messages from dead accounts, and your name. All the proof in the world that you ever existed.

How do I end this letter then?

I suppose in the same way I left my last message to you. I’m here for you, if you ever think of me. I’m not still at the restaurant, sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light, though I am sitting in a very low-lit room with my legs crossed just cause I feel like it. I would love if you got that evermore reference, but if you didn’t, the point is that I’m not waiting for you. My life is full and happy, with or without you. But with you would be nicer.

And if you really are gone forever, if there’s no one left alive to ever find this message, then at least I said it.

All my love, girl,

Steph 🩷

heartworm

n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

[solxamber]

Hello! I, unapologetically and shamelessly, love love loveeeee buff ladies, id like to see how the second-years, + leona, jack, malleus and vil react to the only female student of nrc that can also carry them no problemo, no sweat🤭🤭🤭

added Lilia in for funsies, hope you don't mind and thank you for waiting so long!!

Second Years + Leona, Jack, Vil, Malleus, Lilia x Buff! Fem! Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would initially view your incredible strength with disbelief and a hint of skepticism. The idea of someone so effortlessly strong, and a female student at that, would challenge the traditional rules and expectations ingrained in him.

When he finally witnesses you in action—whether it’s carrying something impossibly heavy or, worse, someone else—he’d stand frozen, staring with wide eyes and a flush creeping across his face. "That is… certainly impressive," he’d mutter, trying to regain his composure.

However, if you ever picked him up, he’d be a spluttering mess. “Unhand me this instant! This is entirely inappropriate!” he’d exclaim, his voice high-pitched with indignation.

Despite his protests, there’d be a tiny part of him that felt oddly reassured by your strength. After all, it’s not often someone can lift him with such care and ease.

Over time, Riddle would quietly admire your abilities, though he’d never outright say it unless pushed. His respect for you would deepen as he realized your strength isn’t just physical but also tied to your determined and confident nature.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona’s initial reaction to your strength would be a raised eyebrow and a nonchalant shrug, he’s used to the strong women back home, after all.

But the first time he actually saw you lifting something—or someone—effortlessly, his sharp eyes would narrow slightly, and a smirk would spread across his face. "Huh. Didn’t think herbivores came that strong," he’d comment lazily, though the glint of interest in his gaze would betray his amusement.

If you picked him up, however, the teasing would take a turn. “What do you think you’re doing?” he’d grumble, though he’d make no effort to get down. Instead, he’d lean back slightly in your arms, acting as though being carried was the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re lucky I don’t care enough to make this a big deal," he’d mutter, but the flick of his tail would betray how much he actually enjoyed it.

Leona would respect your strength but wouldn’t openly praise it—he’d show his appreciation in subtle ways, like trusting you to handle difficult tasks or letting you take the lead in tough situations.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie would immediately see the practical benefits of your strength and wouldn’t hesitate to make jokes about it. "Oi, you’re like a walking moving service, huh? Betcha could carry all my shopping bags with one hand."

His tone would be playful, but there’d be genuine admiration behind his words. Seeing you carry heavy objects—or people—without breaking a sweat would make him stare in awe (just for a moment though!)

If you carried him, Ruggie would laugh even harder, playfully clinging to you. "Careful, don’t drop me, yeah? I got big dreams!"

While he might make light of the situation, there’d be a part of him that felt incredibly safe in your presence. He’d trust you more than he trusted most people, knowing you had the strength to protect and support not just him but anyone who needed it.

Over time, Ruggie would take pride in being your friend, often bragging to others about your incredible abilities.

Jack Howl

Jack would be one of the few people to respect your strength without a hint of doubt or hesitation. As someone who values physical fitness and discipline, he’d immediately recognize how hard you must have worked to achieve your abilities.

"You’re really strong," he’d say bluntly the first time he saw you in action, his tail wagging slightly as he observed you with admiration. Jack would likely ask to train with you, hoping to learn from your techniques and perhaps even find a friendly rival in you.

If you ever picked him up, Jack would be caught completely off guard. His ears would flatten, and he’d stammer, "W-what are you doing?! I can walk just fine!"

Despite his protests, he wouldn’t struggle too much, secretly marveling at how effortlessly you carried him. Afterward, he’d apologize for overreacting and thank you for helping him.

Jack would see you as a dependable ally and someone he could always count on, and he’d quietly admire the strength and determination you brought to every situation.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul would be utterly flustered by your strength, especially if he witnessed it firsthand. The logical part of him would be impressed—after all, having someone with your abilities on his side could be quite advantageous.

However, the more self-conscious part of him would struggle to process how effortlessly you could do something that would leave him winded. "You… certainly have an unusual amount of strength," he’d say, adjusting his glasses and avoiding your gaze.

If you ever carried him, Azul’s reaction would be a mix of mortification and grudging acceptance.

"W-what do you think you’re doing?! Put me down this instant!" he’d protest, but as he realized how steady and strong your hold was, his protests would fade into awkward silence.

Once he was back on solid ground, he’d clear his throat and mumble a thanks, clearly embarrassed but oddly grateful.

Over time, Azul would grow to appreciate your strength and even rely on you in situations that called for it, though he’d always try to mask his dependence with formalities and business-like excuses.

Jade Leech

Jade would be thoroughly intrigued by your strength and composure, finding it a delightful surprise. "How fascinating," he’d murmur with a small smile, studying you intently.

He’d probably ask a few pointed questions about how you developed your abilities, though his tone would remain polite and composed. If he saw you carrying something—or someone—effortlessly, he’d remark, "You’re truly full of surprises."

If you picked him up, Jade would chuckle softly, seemingly unfazed. "My, my. I never thought I’d find myself in this position," he’d say, clearly amused.

He wouldn’t struggle or protest, instead observing the situation with keen interest.

Afterward, he’d tease you lightly about your strength but would also express genuine admiration, finding your abilities both impressive and endearing.

Floyd Leech

Floyd would be absolutely ecstatic about your strength and would make it his mission to see how far he could push your limits.

"Shrimpy! Pick me up! Do it, do it, do it!" he’d exclaim, practically throwing himself at you. The first time you carried him, he’d laugh uncontrollably, flailing his legs and making exaggerated comments about how fun it was. "You’re the best! Strong Shrimpy is my favorite Shrimpy!"

Floyd would constantly pester you to carry him again, treating it like a game. While his enthusiasm might be overwhelming at times, it’d be clear that he genuinely admired your strength and found your abilities endlessly entertaining.

He’d also brag about you to anyone who’d listen, making it clear that he thought you were extremely interesting.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim would be absolutely delighted by your strength, his bright smile lighting up even more as he watched you carry things—or people—around with ease.

"Wow, you’re amazing! I didn’t know you were so strong!" he’d say with pure excitement, clapping his hands together.

Kalim wouldn’t hesitate to shower you with praise and would likely ask if you could teach him a thing or two about how you became so strong.

Uf you ever picked him up, Kalim would laugh joyfully, throwing his arms around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. "This is so much fun! You should carry me around more often!" he’d exclaim, his cheerful energy making it impossible not to smile.

Kalim would admire you deeply, not just for your physical abilities but also for your kind and easygoing nature.

He’d see you as a source of strength in every sense of the word and would look up to you as a close friend and role model.

Jamil Viper

Jamil’s initial reaction to your strength would be subtle surprise, though he’d quickly mask it with his usual calm demeanor. "Impressive," he’d remark with a slight nod, his sharp eyes studying you with curiosity.

Jamil would be intrigued by your abilities but wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, preferring to observe you quietly from a distance.

However, deep down, he’d feel a twinge of admiration for how effortlessly you carried yourself, both literally and figuratively.

If you picked him up, Jamil would tense immediately, his eyes widening as he muttered, "What are you doing? Put me down!" Though his tone might sound irritated, there’d be a faint blush on his cheeks, betraying his embarrassment.

Once he was back on solid ground, he’d clear his throat and pretend nothing happened, though he’d secretly appreciate how strong and dependable you were.

Jamil would quietly respect your abilities and would come to see you as someone he could trust in times of need, even if he never outright admitted it.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil would be both impressed and intrigued by your strength, though he’d maintain his composed demeanor as he acknowledged it. "Well, aren’t you full of surprises," he’d say with a raised eyebrow, his tone carrying a hint of approval.

Vil would appreciate your abilities as a testament to your dedication and discipline, though he might offer some teasing remarks about how you should ensure your strength doesn’t compromise your elegance.

If you picked him up, Vil’s reaction would be a mix of indignation and surprise. "Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing?" he’d demand, though there’d be no mistaking the faint flush on his cheeks.

Once the initial shock wore off, he’d sigh and compose himself, commenting, "If you insist on doing something so bold, at least make sure you’re doing it gracefully."

Despite his protests, Vil would respect your abilities and admire how effortlessly you seemed to balance strength and confidence, though he’d rarely express his admiration openly.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus would be genuinely fascinated by your strength, his eyes lighting up with curiosity the first time he saw you in action. "You possess remarkable power," he’d say, his tone carrying genuine admiration.

As someone who values strength and capability, Malleus would immediately see you as someone worthy of respect and would likely seek out your company more often.

He’d find your abilities both impressive and endearing, particularly because they set you apart from others at NRC.

If you ever picked him up, Malleus would be surprised but not offended. Instead, he’d tilt his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as he remarked, "You are full of surprises, aren’t you?"

He’d remain calm and composed, treating the situation as if it were entirely normal.

Afterward, he’d express his admiration for your strength more openly, likely sharing stories of powerful warriors from his homeland and how you reminded him of them.

Malleus would hold you in high regard, seeing you as a kindred spirit and a source of strength and stability.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia would be absolutely delighted by your strength, his mischievous grin widening as he watched you in action. "Oh, how wonderful!" he’d exclaim, clearly impressed.

Lilia would find your abilities both fascinating and entertaining, and he’d likely tease you playfully about how you could easily carry anyone who needed it.

If you picked him up, Lilia would laugh heartily, clearly enjoying the experience. "How refreshing! It’s been centuries since someone carried me like this," he’d say, his tone light and amused.

Lilia would admire your strength not just for its physical aspect but also for how it reflected your determination and spirit.

He’d see you as someone truly special and would delight in telling stories of your (slightly exaggerated) feats to anyone who’d listen.

Silver

Silver would be quietly impressed by your strength, his calm demeanor remaining unchanged even as he watched you lift heavy objects—or people—with ease. "You’re incredibly strong," he’d remark simply, his tone carrying genuine admiration.

Silver wouldn’t make a big deal out of it but would silently respect your abilities, seeing them as a reflection of your dedication and resilience.

If you ever picked him up, Silver’s reaction would be surprisingly composed. "Oh," he’d say softly, blinking in mild surprise.

He wouldn’t protest or struggle, trusting you completely and even finding the experience oddly comforting. Afterward, he’d thank you sincerely, his admiration for you growing even stronger.

Silver would see you as a dependable and trustworthy ally, someone who could be relied upon in any situation.

Masterlist

[wonsroyalty]

METER : ̗̀➛이희승

pairings/warnings: uni student!heeseung x reader, smut, >18 DNI,, not sure what other warnings to put here yet but i'll add more later

a/n: had this idea in the drafts for a longgg time but never wrote it so i finally got to work!!

“You could never.” your friend gasped from across you.

You could and you definitely would.

For context, you’d just announced to the table that you were planning on submitting a new entry into your collective, ‘Munch O Meter’.

Yes, you had a blog that ranked the guys and girls at your university based on how well they could eat pussy. It was a way of ‘taking feminism into your own hands’ as Yunjin liked to say.

If you weren’t all beautiful and popular, the cancellation of your friend group would’ve began a longggg time ago.

However, top of the list hadn’t been topped in over 5 months and your loyal followers were getting concerned.

Jake Sim had given Hyeju a ‘cosmic’ orgasm and she’d rated him a 97. Out of disbelief, you all took turns hooking up with him and truth be told he truly was as good as she’d said.

His average score was 90, placing him at the top of the list.

For the sake of your entertainment and theirs, you proposed an unexpected candidate.

Deep down you just wanted to see if he was a virgin but disguising your intrigue as concern for the list worked perfectly.

“Lee Heeseung..?” Yooyeon looked at you as if you’d just shit on her plate. “Seriously.”

Yunjin shook her head.

“Definitely not.”

You slouched in your chair sulking.

Whenever they put people forward, you encouraged their suggestions, thinking of their fun rather than the entertainment of the blog.

“I literally never suggest anyone.” you whined. “Just let me have this.”

“No.” Yunjin firmly shut you down.

Hyeju gave you a pat on the head, attempting to comfort you.

“But why?!” you sat up abruptly, slamming your hands on the table accidentally.

“Who even is he? If his name doesn’t ring a bell, he shouldn’t even be considered.” she doubled down.

You sighed exasperatedly.

Heeseung had come over to the table not even five minutes before, handing you the notes from music theory during your group brainstorming for the next candidate.

“He was that nerd.” Yooyeon explained to her. “The one with the baggy clothes and glasses that kept falling down his nose.”

“He’s really nice.” you frowned.

“Nice doesn’t cut it.” Yunjin shook her head. “If he’s a bad fuck you’ll just ruin his chances of getting with anyone else.”

Fed up with their resistance you swiped your bag off the table and announced that you were going to do it anyway.

Despite the protests sent your way you stormed off to find Heeseung.

There was only one place he could be - the library.

And that’s where you found him. Buried behind a pile of books while sipping on one of those cheap energy drinks.

You were just glad that you weren’t giving him a blowjob, out of fear that his sweat would reek.

Your fingers tapped his shoulder rapidly.

“Heeseung!” you sang.

“Shut up.” his friend who you knew as Jay, snapped at you.

You held your hands up, surrendering.

“Um.. Yn? What wrong?” Heeseung panicked. “Were my notes bad? Oh my Pythagoras, did I miss out anything!”

“Shut up!” Jay snapped again.

You shook your head.

“I just need to talk to you… over there.” you pointed towards the book shelves.

He didn’t even have time to respond before you were yanking him out of his seat, ignoring the books that toppled to the ground.

“I have a problem..” you started.

Now that he was up close in a tight space and you were asking for such a shameful act, the embarrassment caught up to you.

“Am I your last resort?” he asked.

“No!” you panicked. “My first….”

He held his hand awkwardly on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. What can I help you with?”

Your brain registered where you were and who you were with. The warmth of his hand felt nice but you had a reputation to uphold.

You shoved his arm off and he immediately gained composure, but not in the way that you wanted.

He wouldn’t hold eye contact with you anymore, feeling the weight of your different status’.

“I wanna enter you into the Munch O Meter.” you bashfully answered.

His head whipped towards yours.

“What the fuck.”

You covered your face with your fingers, curling into yourself.

“You stopped my studying for this joke? Are you kidding?” he glared before storming off.

Your fingers grasped at his jacket, pulling him back.

“I’m not joking.” you confess. “I don’t usually pick people but I wanna choose you.”

He scanned your eyes looking for any hint of doubt but couldn’t find any.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Yes. I’m definitely sure.” you stepped back.

He bit his fist to stop himself from squealing.

“Jay is gonna be so shocked.” he looked over at his friend. “One thing though,”

“Whatever you want.” you replied. “It’s the least I could do to be honest.”

“We need to get ramen, first.” Heeseung nodded calmly.

You smile dropped. “Fucking.. Ramen?”

“I promised Jay I’d get him some.” he shrugged, unbothered and not in a rush at all. “And i’m kinda hungry.”

You fought the urge to walk away then and there. Choosing to stick to the plan for your own pride. Going back to the lunch table would be way too embarrassing.

“Fine. I’ll pay.” you stormed off to their table.

Heeseung trailed after you packing up his things.

“What are you doing?” Jay huffed.

You yanked him out of his seat.

“Hurry up, we’ve got an errand to run.”

***

The whole way to the ramen place, you were forced to listen to their atrocious science jokes. You were smart enough to understand them but the quantity was overkill.

It was surprisingly close to your apartment so that was a bonus, you could ditch Jay as soon as they’d eaten and get on with what you wanted.

You paid and sat waiting for them to start eating.

Jay wasted no time but Heeseung looked skeptical.

“Why aren’t you eating?” he asked.

“Not hungry.” you shrugged.

“Eating ramen isn’t gonna make your pussy taste weird.” he deadpanned.

An old lady sat near the three of you gave you a look.

“Keep it down, will you.” you growled. “I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” Jay slurped. “If you tasted like ramen, he’d eat you out better.”

You flicked him in the head, his vulgar response had sent the old lady away.

Heeseung finally began to eat and you saw what Jay meant.

His eyes closed in pure bliss and he inhaled the food.

You hated how the noises coming from his mouth went straight to the pulsing sensation between your legs.

He didn’t even stop when he’d eaten all the noodles, gulping down the leftover soup without a care in the world. Even licking the bowl to not waste a drop.

You’d never wanted to be a bowl so badly.

“Is it good..?” you croaked out.

“Fuck, that tasted amazing.” he wiped at his face with a napkin. “You would’ve liked it.”

“Yeah..? Fuck.” you moaned out. “We’re going now. Bye Jay.”

You jumped to your feet bouncing impatiently as you watched Heeseung clean up.

“So when will I be on the list?” Jay joked.

“Idk. When we have a threesome or something.” you absentmindedly responded, pushing Heeseung’s arms into his coat.

You missed the way Jay began to choke on his spit, as you were busy shoving Heeseung out of the door.

“Someone’s needy, heh.” he rubbed the back of his head.

“No, it’s worse than that.” you sighed.

Heeseung stumbled after you as you dragged him to your apartment.

The two of you stood in silence as the elevator took you up.

"Are you okay?" Heeseung asked. " Do you still want to do this?"

You didn't respond and instead attacked his lips as soon as he’d kicked his shoes off in your apartment.

"That's not an answer." he pulled away.

"Fuck yeah. I still want this." you responded, dazed by his lips.

You bit, sucked and kissed at every piece of skin available.

He pulled you off by your hair. “Am I not here to eat you out?”

Your hands grabbed his, taking him across the apartment and into your bedroom.

He lightly pushed you onto your bed and hovered over you, placing light kisses on your lips.

His lips messily made their way down to your neck, stopping at the spot where he hear you cry out the loudest.

"Wait," you panted. "Have you done this before?"

You felt his hair brush against your cheek as he shook his head.

"Really?" you sat up.

Yes, you'd thought he was a virgin but but hearing the confirmation made your heart jump for joy.

"I've had sex before, just.. never eaten a girl out." he shrugged.

"Oh."

"Not what you thought, huh?" he squinted.

You scrambled to change your expression.

"That's not what I thought-"

Heeseung used his palm to smush your face into the mattress. Upon hearing you complain he shoved two fingers into your mouth, pushing them further down till you gagged.

"Shhh. Please just stop talking, oh my."

Your eyes widened in shock.

"Who are you talking to like that?" Is what you would've said if you didn't have fingers playing with your uvula.

He moved down to your shirt, popping each button with one hand but by his expression, you could tell he was getting frustrated. The fingers in your mouth popped out and moved to help slip you out of your shirt before unclasping your bra.

Heeseung took a second to fold the items and place them on your bedside table.

"Can you hurry up- Wait, fuck!"

He took your newly exposed breasts into his hands, twisting your tender nipples, painfully.

"What did I tell you?"

You scoffed.

"You can't actually expect me to be quiet. That's- Ow!"

He leant down and took a nipple into his mouth, biting down with his teeth, swirling his warm tongue around it before popping off.

"Shut up."

All the talk went down to where you desperately needed him the most.

Heeseung kissed down your stomach, hesitating at your skirt before unzipping it and folding it with the rest of your clothes.

You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of the wet patch on your panties as he dragged them down slowly.

"Do you always get this wet?" he asked in awe.

You shook your head feeling the embarrassment of being completely bare in front of him while he was fully clothed and composed in front of you.

"So that's your kink." he laughed. "Crazy, but I'm not surprised that you're kinda freaky."

"Shut up, Heeseung. I swear I'll-"

He sighed loudly, interrupting you once again.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your mouth closed?"

He lowered his body down the bed so that his face was eye level with your pussy, eyes wide and curious.

Cold air blew onto your clit as he watched you clench your nothing.

"Fascinating how the female anatomy works."

You sat up, resting on your arms.

"You're gonna turn me off, stop being weird!"

He looked at you as though you'd just called his mother a bitch but didn't respond.

Two of his fingers gathered the slick dripping out of you and lathered it all over your clit, switching up the tempo randomly.

Your head fell back, legs widening in pleasure.

"Cool..." he drawled. "You know you've got more that 10,000 nerve fibers here, right?"

Your arms collapsed from underneath you as you moaned out.

"Wow. When I actually want you to speak, you don't."

He experimentally slipped two fingers into your cunt, feeling around as he kept his other hand circling.

Your legs closed around his shoulders as you gripped onto your sheets when he found the spot that usually had you screaming.

You felt Heeseung speed up the pace as you gushed all over his fingers, orgasming faster than expected.

"Are you sure that was your first time?" you gasped for air.

The boy between your legs was clearly distracted.

He licked at the release leaving your pussy, closing his eyes in pure bliss before sticking his tongue in.

You rapidly fought to push his head away.

"No. No more." you sighed.

"I know you can get another one." he rested his head against your thigh.

"I really can't." you shook your head.

"Stop lying." he frowned.

"I'm not lying!" you lip dropped in shock.

"Jake literally made you cum four times and yet you don't want me to do it again. Right."

You sighed from your gut.

"But.. I'm tired." you looked away from his piercing gaze. "And since when did you even speak to Jake?"

"Good thing you don't have to actually do anything." Heeseung scoffed before diving back in.

Your fingers curled into the duvet again as he quickly found a steady pace.

"Heeseung, I really can't." you whimpered.

He picked up the tempo in response, slurping and sticking his tongue as far into you as he could.

"Hee! Please." your weak arms attempted to push him away.

He continued to ignore you, your body setting alight as you got closer to a state of other-worldly pleasure.

"Heeseung, Jake lied!" you cried out. "I can't take it- I can't."

Heeseung seemed to reach a spot even deeper than you had ever tried, the constant stimulation had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably as you got closer to your impending doom.

A loud moan left your lips as your entire body went rigid.

"Hee, fuck!"

In the midst of the best pleasure you'd ever felt you peeked an eye open to see how Heeseung was reacting.

He had his eyes closed and his tongue wide out as he tried to catch ever drop of the release you'd squirted out.

Your chest heaved as you attempted to get a breath in, causing him to open his eyes abruptly.

"Wait what." he frowned.

"Jake, he lied. I only came twice and that was because he fucking edged me for two hours. But I gave him a high score because I didn't know who told him about how I always squirt the second time." you confessed in a ramble.

Heeseung hopped off the bed shaking his head at how you picked at a thread on your duvet to avoid looking at him. He slipped off his boxers and jeans waiting for you to finish you sentence.

"I don't even recommend people for the list because my ex told me it was weird how I always squirt and since then I've just felt embarrassed so I don't fuck people, well aside from Jake because I didn't believe Hyeju, but I wanted to put you forward because, I don't know, I'm kind of admitting that I do in fact have a crush on you and this was like the only way I could get you to not be scared to talk to me outside of class and yeah I overheard you and Jay talking about it in Music Theory, truly shameless-"

Within a split second you had a dick shoved down your throat.

"Fuckk." he moaned out. "Didn't I tell you to stop talking."

He raked your hair into a makeshift ponytail for easier access to use you how he wanted.

"You just don't listen." he sighed, gagging you over and over.

If you weren't sweating before, you definitely were now.

Your hands gripped onto his thighs for dear life as he ruthlessly used your mouth.

"I can't focus on the moment when you keep speaking." he looked you in the eye. "And I know it sounds mean but, fuck, I didn't think we were ever gonna do this again, so I obviously wanted to have a good memory of right now."

His fingers left your hair, head falling back onto your pillows.

You grabbed them and pulled them back.

"You're so hot." he moaned. "And your ex is a fucking imbecilic, doltish prick. He didn't deserve you."

You sure as hell weren't letting Heeseung escape your grasp after this. You used one hand to jerk off whatever you couldn't reach while the other fondled his balls. His hips thrust up into you uncontrollably as he let himself go.

He watched in surprise as you swallowed every last drop before composing himself and walking over to the pile of folded clothes.

"Hee, where are you going?"

He gestured towards the door.

You tilted your head in confusion.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I liked you, come back here!"

He laughed in disbelief, landing on your bed and pulling you into his embrace.

"You like me?"

You nodded.

"For a while actually."

He kissed the top of your head as you reached to get your phone.

Bitchless Bitches😩

yn

heeseung lee - 100

yunjin🪼

YOU IM GONNA FWJOFNQ

hyeju🌺

OHHH so that's where you went

yooyeon🐰

how do we know that he's actually that good..

hyeju🌺

PREACH

if hes a 100 let me at him🥰

yn

no. off limits.

Heeseung laughed at your messages.

"Next time we'll actually fuck." You nodded with determination as you put your phone away.

"Next time?" he gasped in shock.

"Duh. You can't leave now."

"Wow you really want that threesome with Jay."

"What threesome with Jay?"

[mimiii-3]

Batsib being darlings favorite? 👀 Can you imagine the frustration the batfam would go through?

Oh, you will only do that if darling cuddles you? No need! They'll ask batsib for it instead! I'd love this au tbh. It's even better now (in that hc) batsib stole darling away

Good idea!

…

Saboteur: Two Most Wanted Prequel Pt.2

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: typical yandere themes, kinda funny

…

What if Batsib becomes Darling’s favorite person in the manor…

🦇 - the close bond you share with Darling caught the Batboys’ attention right away

🦇 - you had always been nice to Darling but your new behavior was confusing to them

🦇 - you were no longer Bruce’s number one source of Darling news

🦇 - there were no new discoveries of needles, batteries, or kitchen knives

🦇 - to make matters worse, Darling stuck by your side like glue

🦇 - the batboys just have to sit and watch while you braid Darling’s hair or paint their nails

🦇 - Dick is the first of the batboys to try and intercept

🦇 - he spots you and Darling hanging out in the living room, watching tv

🦇 - Darling sits perched on one side of the couch while you lounge against the other side

🦇 - he tiptoes into the room before plopping down right in between the two of you

🦇 - he’s shocked when Darling gets up and storms out of the room

🦇 - Dick looks over at you and sees you smile at him while lazily knocking your foot against his side

🦇 - this is when the shift in the manor starts

🦇 - the batboys desperately try and win Darling’s attention and affection while you sit by and watch

🦇 - your heart feels incredibly full watching them flounder while begging for Darling’s love

🦇 - now they know what it’s like to be you

…

Darling waits in front of Tim’s room, weighing their options. Darling wants a Nintendo switch but knows that Bruce will flip at the idea. Their next best solution is Tim, the psychopath.

They let out a small huff before knocking against Tim’s door. His door swings open almost instantly. Darling figures he must have been watching them through the camera in the hallway.

Darling looks up at Tim sweetly, “Tim, I was wondering if you could buy me a Nintendo switch? I really want to play Animal Crossing.”

Tim pretends to think about the request before tapping his chin. “That sounds like something I could get. But you know Bruce won’t be too happy so I’m putting my neck on the line for you.”

Darling stays perfectly still. They can sense that their older brother will ask for a pretty price for the switch.

“Tell you what,” Tim sighs, “how about an advance on my cuddle time - in exchange for the console and the game.”

Darling feels that pinching feeling at the back of their neck. The batboys have scheduled cuddle times throughout the month. Tim’s scheduled cuddle time isn’t until two weeks from now.

Darling fights the urge to cringe, “I’ll give you one hug for the switch and one hug for the game. No more, no less.”

Tim smiles at Darling’s attempt at a negotiation. He lives for Darling’s fiery spirit as they try and navigate the many rules of the family.

“Nope.” The corners of Tim’s eyes crinkle with mischief, “You either take my deal or say goodbye to Animal Crossing.”

Darling glares at Tim’s gleeful expression. Without another word, Darling spins on their heel and marches toward the kitchen.

Tim’s floored. He knew they wanted that Nintendo switch for a while now. He had found that page of the Christmas catalog tucked neatly between their mattress and the bed frame.

He didn’t understand how Darling could just walk away. His proposal was reasonable. Tim had already done the mental math and there was no way they’d pass on his deal.

Tim’s curiosity gets the better of him and he follows Darling downstairs. By the time he gets there, Darling is already taking to you.

Tim peeks around the wall to listen in on the conversation. He nearly faints at what he hears.

“Hey big sib, can you get me a Nintendo switch and Animal Crossing.”

You reach over and pat Darling on top of the head, “Sure thing, Button. You want a case too?”

Darling nods happily and wraps their arms around you, “Yes! Thank you so much!”

You chuckle at their enthusiasm before pulling out your laptop to make the purchase. Darling hangs off of your shoulder while rambling about the villagers and decorating.

Cue Tim sliding down the wall with his head in his hands.

…

Extra Notes: I wanted to write more this weekend but I was busy Oopsies😅

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats

[shrimpleton]

#legit always been confused about this having never worked stock and rarely ever worked tills#is it just that yall don’t care? like there’s obvi stock in that back room he’s showing#is he doing this intentionally against the customer in some way cause he just can?#cause he dgaf if the shop makes the sale?#cause i truly miss the days when i used to ask and they would come back with the item . idk when or why this practice ever changed#cause ik it’s a video but he headed straight back and just chilled and didn’t even imply trying to look for the item#was i just going to shops that were too bougie or was it that the shop im remembering is a co-op?#looking for genuine and sincere responses here pls

Having worked stock I can answer this question for you: Because whatever the customer is looking for is not there and he knows it's not there, but customers often need a visual reassurance that you're not trying to lie to them for some reason.

Used to be that product was bought in intervals by someone going through and logging what was low, and then ordering a lot of something they knew was high-demand just to have on hand. Now a lot of stores these days have automatic restock on most merchandise that triggers if it gets low/runs out in the system, and then we'd see it the next Wednesday shipment (or whenever the "big" weekly shipment happens for the store). Often there's also only enough to fill the shelf space for that week to avoid pile-ups in backrooms, and special seasonal stuff shows up in batches before the season even starts and never again after that, giving limited merchandise to sell that just sits in the backroom for 3 months.

Sometimes something gets stolen/broken/etc that makes everyone think it's out of stock and yet there really is something in the back—much to our surprise—but unless the backroom is in good order (and usually it's not, due to not having enough workers), it's gonna take 45 minutes to 3 hours to find exactly what we're looking for, since there's a bunch of other stock and also seasonal products that we have to shift through. And since there's often not enough workers, then whoever is sent back doesn't actually have enough time to actually look and can only pretend to look before they gotta get back to the floor to get back to their tasks on hand.

[minswriting]

nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader | unprotected sex, breeding kink

it’s time to think about fucking aaron hotchner raw.

there’s just something about the way aaron looked at you that just got you going. perhaps it was the longing gazes he’d give to you throughout the day or the fact that he was not dressed in his normal suit. he was dressed in a polo t-shirt that fit him so nicely that it made you clench your thighs the moment you saw him.

so when you had gotten to the hotel that night, it was no surprise to you when you found out that the two of you would be sharing a room. it makes the most sense with how you’re dating. when you guys got to your room, you didn’t give aaron any time to look around when you pulled him to the bed.

“sweetheart?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you when you pushed him onto the mattress. “what-“ his question was interrupted when you desperately unzipped his pants. and then he knew exactly what you wanted. he licked his lips, watching you pull his pants down enough to reveal his half-hard cock.

“i need you so badly,” you breathed out, undressing yourself completely. your movements were quick and desperate as your fingers fumbled with the button of your jeans. “don’t want to wait.”

and when you had finally undressed yourself completely, you sighed in relief as you moved to straddled aaron’s hips. “not even going to use protection?” he breathed out, his hands immediately going to your hips.

you shook your head. “need to feel you completely,” you said. just by watching you undress, aaron’s cock got fully hard which was perfect because you really just need him. your hand went underneath you, guiding aaron’s cock to your entrance. foreplay is overrated when all you want is dick.

you slowly eased yourself onto aaron’s cock, making the both of you hiss in pleasure. it wasn’t the first time you guys have done it without protection. there were times when aaron would come home from a really long case and fuck you like you were nothing but a cumslut for him. which you never really minded. if you end up pregnant with his child, well that’s just a solid win right there.

“yes,” you moaned, bouncing your hips, throwing your head back in pleasure as you rested your hands on his torso. you were finally getting the relief that you so desperately craved, having needed aaron’s cock buried inside of you.

aaron let out a groan, gripping your hips. “you’re so wet,” he said, looking up at you with a look of lust and adoration. “have you been thinking about this all day?”

you nodded your head, letting out a “mhm!” as rode aaron’s cock. your rhythm was slow and needy as your walls clenched around his cock.

“fuck,” he moaned, moving so that his feet were resting on the bed. he began fucking into you at a fast pace, causing you to gasp and stop your movements.

“o-oh my god,” you moaned, closing your eyes in pleasure as you allowed aaron to take over. his thrusts up into you were hard and fast, just what you needed. you felt the tension building up inside of you, knowing you weren’t going to last long at all. you cried out in pleasure. “i’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“go ahead, baby, show me just how much you needed my cock,” aaron grunted, breathing heavily as he thrusted his hips up into you.

it didn’t take long for you to cum, moaning aaron’s name as you clenched around his cock. aaron followed suit, groaning your name as he came inside of you, filling you up with his cum without a single care in the world. he held you against him, keeping you still as he came inside of you.

it was no wonder when you got a positive pregnancy test a month later.

[pbaz7]

ONE SHOT: FULL COURT PRESS

paige x azzi

warning: heavy drinking, suggestive content

word count: 12k

A/N: This was not supposed to be this long and it’s extremely chaotic/all over the place😭. it’s honestly a reflection of my brain. one shots are actually really hard to write and be comfortable with ending lol. they meet in a bar ✨. leave live reacts and comments if you can !!

—————————————————————————

October 2023

Paige was definitely drunk. With each shot she took the weight of everything didn’t seem to press down on her chest as heavy, it all became less suffocating. Basketball used to be her sanctuary, her place of peace. The one thing she could always count to be a breath of fresh air when she felt like she was drowning. But now, every game felt like a tsunami where perfection was the only acceptable outcome for her. She just wanted to feel normal sometimes, even if it was only for one night here and there at random bars.

The dimly lit bar she sat in currently offered the anonymity she craved. Or at least, she hoped it would. She swirled the ice in her glass, completely lost in her thoughts as she was zoned out staring at who knows what, when the door opened the bell catching her attention.

A girl walked in, exuding an effortless confidence that Paige hadn’t seen in a while. Her brown curls framed her striking face, tan skin glowing under the warm light of the bar. She was tall and had a quiet energy about her, the kind that made people take notice without her even trying. Paige found herself staring, immediately captivated, admiring every part of her face that she could see.

So without thinking, she signaled the bartender over. “Whatever she wants, it’s on me.”

The bartender nodded, and a few minutes later, the girl glanced in her direction, lifting her glass with a smile, a dimple popping as she did. At this acknowledgement Paige felt a spark of courage—or maybe it was just the alcohol—as she pushed herself out of her seat. Making her way over to where the girl was sitting.

“I figured I’d come introduce myself. I’m Paige. Paige Bueckers,” she said, licking her lips as she leaned casually against the bar, her usual confidence with women radiating off of her.

The girl smiled, setting her glass down as she extended her hand. “Azzi.”

Paige shook her hand casually brushing Azzi’s hand with her thumb, her blue eyes lingering on Azzi’s for just a beat too long. “Do you have a last name Azzi?”

Azzi’s lips curled into a playful smile. “Fudd. Azzi Fudd.”

Paige licked her lips, keeping her gaze steady as she took her in. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Azzi Fudd. You’re gorgeous.”

Azzi tilted her head, as she studied Paige before saying. “Thank you superstar.”

Paige blinked, her confident smirk faltering for just a second. “Mmm, so you know who I am?”

Azzi took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving Paige’s. “Hard to miss in the basketball world. UConn’s golden girl, right?”

Paige chuckled, leaning in slightly as her charm slipped back into place. “Yeah, sure, something like that.” She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “What, you hoop?”

Azzi nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I do.”

As Paige stood there the two of them falling into easy introductions, the world outside the bar seemed to be fading away. Azzi’s calm, confident demeanor was a breath of fresh air for Paige who was used to people throwing themselves at her. Azzi didn’t seem fazed by Paige’s notoriety, and her playful confidence kept Paige intrigued.

“So,” Azzi said, her brown eyes having a slight sparkle. “What brings you to a random bar in the middle of nowhere?”

Paige shrugged. “Maybe I needed a quick break. Or maybe I was just waiting for someone like you to walk in.”

Azzi laughed softly, lifting her drink for another sip as her eyes held Paige’s. “Someone like me, huh?”

Paige leaned in just a little, her tongue darting out to lick her lips again. “Yeah. Somebody exactly like you actually.”

Azzi’s gaze flickered down for just a moment before she tilted her head, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping intentionally. “I’m not sure you can handle someone like me.”

​​Paige met her gaze, the tension between them crackling, and without thinking, she let her eyes trail down Azzi’s body, then slowly back up before saying “I’ll be more than happy to show you.”

Azzi noticed the once over, a smile curving her lips as she watched it happen. “I’m not going to sleep with you if that’s what this is.”

Paige smirked, confidence still unwavering. “Who said I wanted to sleep with you?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “So, you just buy random girls drinks to chat with them?”

Paige hummed at this. “Touché…so what is it? I’m not your type?”

This time, Azzi’s gaze swept over Paige, pausing for just a beat longer than expected near her exposed abdomen before she replied, her voice low. “Mmm, I didn’t say that.”

At this, Paige's lips eased into another smile as she leaned closer. “Why not then?”

Azzi shrugged, her demeanor calm, even as her eyes stayed locked on Paige’s. “I don’t do one-night stands.”

Paige tilted her head, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Who said it had to be just one night?”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I also don’t sleep with someone I just met.”

Paige with her elbows resting on the bar said, “Ahh ok..so, what’s the rule? Three dates? Five? I need to fill out an application?”

Azzi glanced up at Paige through her eyelashes, resting her cheek in her hand as she replied. “You’re really persistent.”

Paige’s smile widened as she looked at Azzi before saying, “It’s not every day I come across somebody as gorgeous as you.”

Azzi’s gaze lingered on Paige, the air between them a little heavy now. Her eyes flickered between Paige’s blue ones and her lips, a silent tension building as she tapped her finger lightly on the bar.

After a moment, Azzi leaned back, breaking the spell with a soft smile. “Let’s start with a conversation that doesn’t involve you trying to charm your way into something.”

Paige pretended to look offended. “Charm? This is just me being me.”

Azzi gave her a pointed look, though her smile remained. “And that’s what makes you dangerous.”

Paige’s grin widened. “You say dangerous like it’s a bad thing.”

Azzi shrugged, leaning back slightly. “Maybe I think it is…Or maybe I just want to keep you on your toes. You seem like the type who needs to be entertained.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her voice dropping just enough to hold a playful edge. “Careful, Azzi. You’re starting to sound interested.”

Azzi smirked, her gaze still locked on Paige’s. “Never said I wasn’t. Just that you’re not going to charm your way into skipping the line.”

Paige hummed, leaning in slightly. “So there’s a line?”

Azzi chuckled, her tone teasing Paige now. “Maybe.”

Paige smiles saying, “Good thing I’m competitive. I can play the long game when it’s worth it”

Azzi chuckled softly, her eyes flickering with amusement. “That’s good to know.”

Paige smiled, a playful challenge in her eyes. “Guess I should sit down and get to know you then.”

Azzi gestured to the seat next to her, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. “Guess so.”

After this their conversation flowed effortlessly, covering everything from basketball to life outside the spotlight. Azzi talked about her experience playing for a smaller college, how she loved the game without the added pressure of constant media attention, though she still got some here and there. Paige found herself completely captivated by the stranger, sharing stories and laughing until her stomach hurt. She completely forgot about what made her show up to the bar in the first place.

Hours passed without either of them noticing. Drinks flowed between both of them, Paige making Azzi never paid for anything. By the time Paige glanced at her phone, it was nearly 2 a.m.

“Damn,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

Azzi smiled at her. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

Paige chuckled, a playful edge to her voice. “Who said I was having fun?”

Azzi tilted her head, a hint of tipsiness creeping into her expression as she studied Paige. “You didn’t have fun with me?”

Paige smirked at Azzi’s tone, her blue eyes a little glossy from her drinks. “We could have a lot more fun if you stop playing hard to get.”

Azzi’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m sure we could, but I’m not that easy.”

Paige’s eyebrows lifted, her confidence undeterred. “Like I said, I’m up for the challenge.”

Azzi tilted her head, her gaze meeting Paige’s with a spark of amusement. “Are you now?”

“Absolutely” Paige said simply as she reached for her phone, a sly grin on her lips as she began to unlock it but before she could speak again, Azzi leaned forward speaking to the bartender, catching Paige's attention.

“Excuse me,” Azzi said, glancing at the bartender. “Mind if I borrow a pen?”

The bartender passed her a pen, and without missing a beat, Azzi reached for Paige’s hand, her fingers brushing lightly over Paige’s skin as she began writing her number on the palm of her hand.

Paige watched, amusement flickering in her eyes. When Azzi finished, she glanced down at the number and then met Azzi’s gaze, laughing slightly. “You could’ve just put it in my phone, you know.”

Azzi capped the pen with a smile, standing up as she put on her jacket. “I could’ve, but this leaves more of an impression.”

She leaned in just slightly, her breath warm against Paige’s ear as she added, “And I want to make sure you’re still thinking of me in the morning.”

With that, Azzi straightened up, her eyes sparkling as she gave Paige one last lingering look before walking out of the bar.

Paige sat there, staring after her, a wide smile spreading across her face as she realized she was grinning like an idiot.

As she walked out into the cool air herself, Paige couldn’t help but smile. Tonight, she hadn’t been the golden girl, the star player, or the media’s favorite headline. She’d just been Paige, and she liked who she’d met along the way.

…

Over the next few weeks, Paige and Azzi fell into an effortless rhythm. Their phones rarely stayed silent, a constant stream of texts flowing between them from morning until night.

Dimples : What’s your pre-game ritual?

Superstar: Wouldn’t you like to know?

Dimples : I would, actually. I bet it’s something super intense like staring at a basketball for an hour to try to absorb its energy.

Superstar: Lmao. You always think you’re so funny.

Dimples : No denial though, huh? Interesting…

Between the teasing texts, there were long, late-night phone calls where their conversations would drift from basketball to their favorite movies, and childhood stories. Of course Paige made sure she flirted in between.

Paige often found herself lying in bed, the sound of Azzi’s laughter filling her ears through the speaker. “Wait, so you’re telling me you tried to dunk on your brother at eight years old?” Paige asked, barely holding back her own laugh as she tried to hear the story.

“Hey, I had big dreams!” Azzi replied. “Did I fail miserably? Yes. Did I get grounded for breaking the hoop? Also yes.”

“I need to see baby Azzi with big hoop dreams,” Paige teased.

“I’ll show you if you admit that I’d beat you in a one-on-one,” Azzi quipped back.

“That’s never happening,” Paige retorted, her grin so wide it hurt.

The banter always came naturally, but beyond the jokes, there were quieter, more vulnerable moments. Paige always claiming that nobody get’s her but Azzi as she poured out her feelings about basketball and how she didn’t really love it as much anymore.

But one evening, Azzi sent Paige a clip of her latest game with a message: Tell me what you think.

Paige opened the video and immediately dialed her number.

“Alright,” Paige began as soon as Azzi picked up. “Your footwork on that first drive? Chef’s kiss. But…”

“But?” Azzi prompted, a smile in her voice.

“You hesitated for a second on that three in the second quarter. You had more than enough space Azzi.”

Azzi sighed. “I know. I over-thought it.”

They stayed on the phone for hours, analyzing plays, discussing Azzi’s positioning, and even breaking down potential opponents going forward. Paige’s passion for the game peaked through the conversation, and Azzi soaked it all in, listening intently with a huge smile on her face hearing an unusual excitement in Paige’s voice as she talked about basketball.

At one point, Paige teased, “Maybe I should just be your coach.”

Azzi laughed. “Or maybe you could just transfer and come help us win. Imagine the headlines.”

Paige’s voice dropped into a softer, more teasing tone. “You just want me around more.”

“Maybe I do,” Azzi replied, the playful edge in her voice unmistakable.

When they weren’t buried in film, their in-person meetups were filled with just as much energy. Sitting in a booth at another quiet bar, Paige and Azzi leaned in close, the low hum of conversation buzzing around them.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, when are you finally going to admit that I have game?”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to think it over. “Ehh, I don’t know. You’re more of a fast-break kind of girl—you had a strong start, but you don’t seem to have the stamina to finish. You’ve been slacking lately.”

Paige dropped her jaw, feigning offense. “Wowww. So now you’re questioning my follow-through?”

Azzi grinned, shrugging. “I’m just saying, I’m not easily impressed.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Paige shot back. “But you keep showing up, so I must be doing something right.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “Is that line supposed to impress me?”

“Is it working?” Paige’s voice was low but still confident.

Azzi’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe.”

The line between playful flirting and genuine connection blurred more each time they were together. Azzi became Paige’s sounding board, someone she could spill her feelings to; her safe space. And with every interaction, Paige felt herself being pulled deeper into Azzi’s orbit.

…

December 2023

The glow of Paige’s phone screen lit up her dark room as she sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers scrolling through endless tweets and headlines. Paige Bueckers chokes again. Overhyped and underwhelming. She’ll never live up to the UConn legends before her.

Her heart raced as she read the brutal critiques. The game hadn’t even been bad. They’d won, she’d put up solid numbers, but the narrative didn’t care about solid. Anything less than perfection was failure in their eyes. And now, the relentless noise echoed in her mind.

She’ll never lead UConn to a championship.

She doesn’t deserve to go high in the draft.

Just another overrated star.

The pressure mounted, her chest tightening with every thought. Her breathing grew a little shallow, and her hands trembled as she gripped her phone. It felt like her ribcage was collapsing in on itself, each breath harder to take.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the panic away. She needed air, needed something—someone.

As if the universe heard her silent plea, her phone rang. Azzi’s name flashed across the screen, the sight alone lifting some weight off of Paige’s chest. Her hand trembled slightly as she swiped to answer.

“Wassup, pretty,” Paige said, her voice shaky but laced with soft flirtation.

Azzi let out a light laugh on the other end, her voice warm. “I can tell you’re overthinking just by your voice Paige.” She paused, letting the words sink in before adding, “I watched your game—you played great.”

Paige exhaled, a mix of disbelief and self-doubt slipping into her tone. “Eh.”

“Eh, my ass,” Azzi shot back without hesitation. “What are you doing?”

Paige took a deep breath, glancing around her quiet room. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

Azzi’s voice softened. “You think too much. You’re gonna give that pretty face of yours wrinkles before you’re 30.”

“I know,” Paige admitted, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the heaviness in her chest.

“How do you wanna play it tonight?” Azzi asked gently, her question open but filled with understanding.

Paige hesitated for a moment, then sighed, her voice quieter this time. “I miss you.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. “I miss you more. You wanna talk about it?”

Paige nodded even though Azzi couldn’t see her, her voice steadying just slightly. “Yeah. I do.”

Before Azzi could ask another question Paige said,. “Do you have practice tomorrow?”

“No, why?” Azzi replied, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

Paige hesitated for only a moment before asking, “Do you wanna come over?”

Azzi didn’t need to think long. “It’ll take me some time.”

“That’s fine,” Paige said softly, her voice tinged with relief.

“Ok,” Azzi said, already moving. “Tell me what’s wrong while I get my stuff together.”

Paige let out a shaky sigh. “It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about what they’re saying. That I’ll never be good enough. That I don’t deserve this.”

Azzi’s tone shifted as she put her phone on speaker to talk as she gathered some things she needed. “You’ve already proven so much. You’re one of the best, and anyone who actually has a brain and knows basketball can see that. The rest? They’re just noise. And we both know you’re more than that.”

Paige felt a lump rise in her throat, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “You always have a counterpoint to anything I say.”

“Of course I do,” Azzi teased lightly. “It’s part of my charm. Now keep going.”

Paige nodded, her voice steadier now as she began to open up, the comfort of Azzi’s presence—even from afar—slowly quieting the storm in her mind.

When Azzi arrived, Paige opened the door, pulling her into a hug that was everything Paige needed in that moment. Paige held on a little longer than usual, her grip tight as if Azzi might slip away. Azzi just rested her chin briefly on Paige’s shoulder, allowing her all the time she needed, before Paige finally pulled back.

“Thanks for coming,” Paige said quietly, her voice tinged with a little vulnerability.

Azzi gave her a small, reassuring smile. “Of course.”

Paige guided Azzi into the living room, where the familiar hum of laughter and chatter filled the space. KK and Ice were sprawled on the couch arguing about something, while Nika sat cross-legged in the armchair, her phone in hand. Aubrey leaned against the wall, lazily tossing a small ball into the air. The TV was paused on a game, though it was clear they hadn’t been paying much attention.

“Aye,” Paige began, keeping a steady hand on Azzi’s back. “This is Azzi.”

Ice gave her a friendly wave, her usual laid-back demeanor with anyone but Paige and KK evident. “Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you,” she said with a smile.

Nika glanced up, a smirk already forming. “Azzi, huh?” she said, dragging the name out teasingly. “Paige talks about you all the time.”

Aubrey gave a quiet laugh, offering a small nod. “Wassup Azzi,” she said, her tone kind although she didn’t say much else.

KK, on the other hand, wasted no time leaning forward with her trademark grin. “Girly pop, you’re way too pretty for her,” she teased, pointing a finger toward Paige.

Before anyone could react, Ice smacked KK’s arm, shaking her head. “Really, KK? Read the room.”

Paige rolled her eyes, brushing off the comment, though a faint blush crept up her neck. “Ignore her,” she muttered, looking at Azzi.

Azzi chuckled softly, her warm gaze flickering between everyone. “It’s nice to meet you guys in person,” she said smoothly.

Paige, ready to retreat from the chaos, gently tugged Azzi’s hand. “Let’s go to my room,” she said, her tone soft but insistent.

Azzi gave a small wave to the group. “See you guys later,” she said, her voice laced with light amusement at the team as she followed Paige down the hallway.

Once inside Paige’s room, the tension from earlier seemed to dissipate. The familiar scent of vanilla and a faint hint of lavender filled the air, and Azzi kicked off her sneakers by the door, glancing around the cozy space. Paige’s bed was unmade, a mix of fluffy pillows and a purple comforter that looked as if it had been hastily thrown back in place.

Azzi smiled faintly, dropping her bag by the dresser before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She leaned back on her hands, her gaze following Paige as she plopped onto the mattress beside her, remote in hand.

“So,” Paige began, scrolling through Netflix, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls. “What are you in the mood for? Something funny? Scary? A rom-com?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Rom-com? Is that your go-to move when you have somebody here?”

Paige snorted, rolling her eyes as she kept scrolling. “Please, I don’t need a movie to impress you.”

“Oh, really?” Azzi teased, shifting to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Then why are you trying so hard to pick the perfect movie?”

Paige paused her scrolling to glance over at her. “I’m not trying hard. I’m just being considerate of my company.”

“Sure you are,” Azzi replied, her voice laced with amusement. She reached out, playfully nudging Paige’s arm.

Paige chuckled, turning her attention back to the screen. “Alright, what about this one?” she asked, landing on an action movie.

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to deliberate. “Eh, too much testosterone,” she joked.

Paige huffed dramatically, tossing the remote onto the bed and leaning back against the headboard. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Azzi grinned, leaning back beside her, their shoulders brushing now. “So you’ve said but still, here you are, inviting me over and trying to impress me.”

Paige shook her head, a laugh slipping out as she grabbed her phone from the nightstand. “You’re annoying.”

Azzi just smiled, watching Paige scroll through her phone for a moment. “You good now?” she asked softly, her tone shifting to something gentler as she hints at what they were talking about a while ago.

Paige glanced at her, the teasing smirk fading into something more sincere. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Thanks for coming.”

Azzi’s smile softened, her eyes meeting Paige’s. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the TV and the occasional muffled laughter from the living room. It wasn’t awkward, though—it was comfortable, the kind of silence that felt more like understanding than absence.

Paige nudged Azzi’s knee with her own. “You pick the movie, since you’re so picky.”

Azzi laughed, reaching for the remote. “Alright, but no complaints if it’s a rom-com.”

Paige laughs saying “I’ll definitely laugh at you but sure.”

Azzi finally settled on a comedy, something light enough to keep playing in the background but not too distracting. She set the remote down with a triumphant smile and leaned back against the headboard.

“See? No rom-com,” she teased, shooting a smug look at Paige.

Paige smirked, turning her body slightly to face Azzi. “I’m impressed. You got range.”

Azzi tilted her head, her smile softening. “What can I say? I like to keep people guessing.”

The movie began, but neither of them seemed to care much about the witty banter on-screen. Instead, their attention shifted entirely to each other. Paige’s fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of her hoodie as she leaned in just enough to close the space between them slightly.

“What else should I know about you, Azzi Fudd?”

Azzi chuckled, her gaze dipping briefly to Paige’s lips before flicking back up. “I’m not that mysterious. I think you’ve got me all figured out by now.”

Paige leaned in a bit closer, her elbow resting on the pillow between them. “Not even close,” she said, her voice quieter now, a touch more serious.

“Alright, then. Ask me something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it as her fingers idly tapped against her leg. “Okay. What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

Azzi laughed, leaning back slightly. “Oh, that’s easy. People who chew with their mouths open.”

Paige laughed too, her nose scrunching adorably. “That’s fair. What about…” She paused, her tone shifting to something more playful. “Biggest turn-on?”

Azzi’s eyebrows shot up, and she gave Paige a pointed look. “Very smooth transition, Paige.”

Paige grinned, unapologetic. “What can I say? I’ve been curious.”

Azzi bit her lip, her gaze steady as she considered her response. “Confidence,” she said finally. “Someone who knows what they want.”

Paige’s smirk widened, and she leaned in just enough to blur the line between teasing and daring. “Good to know,” she murmured, her blue eyes locked on Azzi’s.

Azzi tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes as she studied Paige. “Alright, your turn. What’s your most embarrassing moment?”

Paige groaned, covering her face with one hand. “Oh, that’s not fair. There are way too many to choose from.”

Azzi laughed softly, nudging Paige’s leg with her foot. “Come on, just one. I promise not to laugh... too much.”

Paige peeked at her through her fingers, her lips twitching. “Fine. When I was in high school, I was running and I tripped trying to jump over the hurdle. Full-on faceplant in front of the whole crowd.”

Azzi burst out laughing, her hand flying to her chest. “Please tell me there’s a video of that.”

“There probably is,” Paige admitted, laughing along with her. “But good luck finding it.”

Azzi shook her head, her laughter tapering off as her gaze softened. “Okay, that’s not so bad. At least you owned it.”

Paige leaned back, crossing her arms with a mock pout. “Your turn to embarrass yourself, then. What’s something you did that you wish you could forget?”

Azzi smiled slyly, her voice dropping just a touch. “I really don’t get embarrassed easily. But...” She hesitated, her eyes flicking to Paige’s lips for a split second before meeting her gaze again. “I have been caught staring at someone a little too long before.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her smirk creeping back. “Oh, really? Who’s the lucky someone?”

Azzi’s smile grew, and she leaned in slightly, her voice smooth as she tried to move things along. “Well, right now, it’s you.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with curiosity and a hint of teasing. “Right now? So, who was it another time?”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, no, it’s not like that. The other time was a complete misunderstanding. I got lost in thought, I wasn't even looking at the person, but they thought I was checking them out.”

Paige’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Ahh, got you. So, you accidentally made someone’s day, huh?”

Azzi laughed softly, her eyes flickering with amusement as she looked at Paige. “Something like that. But this time, no misunderstandings. I know exactly what I’m looking at.”

Paige tilted her head, her gaze holding Azzi’s. “And what are you looking at?”

Azzi leaned in slightly, her voice dropping a notch. “Someone who swears she’s hard to fluster but has been blushing for the past five minutes.”

Paige felt the warmth creep up her cheeks, but she didn’t break eye contact, her confidence undeterred. “I’m just giving you the satisfaction. Didn’t want you to think you weren’t having an effect.”

Azzi grinned, her tongue brushing over her bottom lip. “Oh, don’t worry. I already know I am.”

Paige leaned back slightly, resting her weight on her hands. “Confident, aren’t you?”

Azzi mirrored her movement, leaning back as well, her eyes gleaming. “I’d say it’s justified. What do you think?”

Paige’s gaze flickered down to Azzi’s lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. “I think you like to keep me on my toes.”

Azzi’s smirk deepened. “You’re telling me you don’t enjoy it?”

The air between them felt a little charged now, their playful exchange laced with unspoken tension. Paige tilted her head, “I didn’t say that.”

Azzi’s gaze dropped to the string of Paige’s hoodie, grabbing it to twist it slowly around her finger as the air between them shifted. Her voice softened. “You know, I’ve been thinking about something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer, her attention fixed on Azzi. “What’s that?”

Azzi glanced up, her eyes locking onto Paige’s. “You’re the one who keeps saying how much fun we could have. But…” She let the word hang in the air, her fingers releasing the string and brushing lightly against Paige’s chest. “You haven’t even tried to kiss me.”

Paige blinked, her breath catching for a moment before a slow smirk tugged at her lips. “You’re the one who stopped us last time, remember? Told me I needed to figure my stuff out first.”

Azzi tilted her head, her voice growing softer, almost challenging. “That was a month ago, Paige. Don’t tell me you’re still waiting for permission.”

Paige smirked as she leaned closer, their faces inches apart. “So I take it there’s no line anymore?”

Azzi let out a soft chuckle, her gaze steady. “Paige, the line was gone as soon as you sat next to me at that bar.”

Something shifted in Paige’s expression—her smirk fading into something more serious, more intent. Without another word, she reached out, her hand cupping Azzi’s jaw with a gentle firmness. She held her there for a moment, their eyes locking as if waiting for any sign of hesitation.

When none came, Paige leaned in, closing the distance as her lips brushed against Azzi’s in a slow kiss. Azzi exhaled softly through her nose, her hand finding its way to Paige’s hoodie, gripping the fabric as she leaned into the kiss, melting into the moment.

Paige, emboldened by Azzi’s response, slid her hands to Azzi’s waist, effortlessly pulling her into her lap. Azzi let out a quiet sound at this but didn’t pull away, her arms wrapping around Paige’s neck as their kiss deepened. The air between them grew heavier, the couple of months of tension dissolving.

After some time, Azzi finally broke the kiss, her forehead resting against Paige’s as she caught her breath. Her lips curved into a small smirk, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “Should I be concerned at how good you are at this?”

Paige laughed softly, her hands settling on Azzi’s hips as she shook her head. “Nope. Not at all.”

For a moment, Azzi’s gaze faltered, a brief flicker of hesitation crossing her face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Without saying anything else, she leaned back in, her hands cupping Paige’s jaw as she pulled her into another kiss, this one a little more sloppy, filled with the kind of urgency that had been building between them for months.

As the kiss deepened, Paige’s hands roamed Azzi’s sides, her thumbs brushing over the bare skin just above her waistband. The heat between them grew quickly, and when Azzi’s hands tugged slightly at Paige’s hoodie, Paige took the cue immediately. She pulled it off in one smooth motion, leaving her in just a sports bra. Azzi followed without hesitation, peeling her shirt off and tossing it aside before their lips met again.

The contact of skin against skin heightened the tension, and Paige wasted no time shifting their position. She slid her hands beneath Azzi, lifting her off her lap and laying her down against the bed. Hovering over her, Paige’s blue eyes locked on Azzi’s, searching for any sign of doubt. But all she saw was anticipation, the flicker of trust and desire that had been simmering between them.

Paige leaned down, her lips brushing over Azzi’s once more before trailing a path down her jawline, then lower, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along the curve of her neck. Azzi’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair as her body arched slightly beneath her, silently encouraging her.

Paige’s lips pressed against Azzi’s neck with a renewed intensity, her hands roaming Azzi’s body more freely as she left soft marks on her skin. Azzi’s breath came in shallow gasps, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair, urging her on. The sensation of Paige’s lips leaving heated trails across her neck made Azzi’s chest rise and fall in a quick rhythm, and she couldn't help but vocalize her pleasure. “Fuck, you’re good at this,” Azzi murmured, the words only spurring Paige on.

As Paige continued, inching lower to Azzi’s chest, she could feel Azzi’s body tremble slightly beneath her, her pulse racing. Azzi’s hands moved to Paige’s shoulders, a firm grip on her as she suddenly pulled Paige up to meet her lips in a desperate, heated kiss. Azzi broke it after a few seconds, pulling back just enough to catch her breath.

“Your teammates are here,” Azzi said softly, a hint of amusement in her voice but also a recognition of the reality they were both avoiding.

Paige, barely taking a moment to breathe, flashed a smile. “The walls are thick.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow at her, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You sure?”

Paige laughed softly, brushing her lips over Azzi's neck as she whispered, “I swear,” her voice low and filled with a mischievous edge as she went back to kissing Azzi’s neck.

As she kissed down her neck again, Azzi’s breath caught, her body reacting everytime Paige’s warm lips sucked on her neck. She let out a soft moan, her fingers threading into Paige’s hair, pulling her closer. “Fuck, okay,” she gasped, her voice trembling slightly with the intensity of the moment.

Azzi's eyes fluttered shut, trying to keep control, but it was becoming harder with every kiss, every stroke of Paige's lips against her skin. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head slightly, whispering, “I’m still going to be quiet, though.”

Paige nodded against her, her lips brushing just below Azzi’s sports bra, a soft hum of agreement escaping her. She was about to lower herself again when—knock knock.

Paige groaned softly, dropping her forehead to Azzi’s stomach in frustration. "Please, no," she muttered under her breath.

The knock came again, this time firmer, more insistent.

Azzi chuckled softly, a breathy laugh escaping her as she ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, her smile still teasing despite the interruption.

Paige groaned, reluctantly sitting up and adjusting her sweats that were hanging low on her hips. She threw a quick glance at Azzi, giving her an apologetic smile before getting up to answer the door.

She cracked it open just enough to keep Azzi out of view. On the other side stood Ayanna, looking a little awkward. She glanced up and down Paige’s figure before pausing, her eyes widening when she realized what Paige had been in the middle of. "Oh shit, sorry," Ayanna blurted out laughing a little. "I didn’t know you were... busy."

Paige laughed softly, rolling her eyes. "It’s fine, Yanna. Wassup?"

Ayanna gave a grin, still standing there awkwardly. "I just wanted to borrow one of your chains... the long silver one?" she asked, her eyes flicking to the jewelry box that sat on a nearby shelf.

Paige nodded and stepped aside, making room for Ayanna to enter. She walked over to her large jewelry box, pulling it open to search for the chain. "Sure," Paige muttered, her voice still tinged with a bit of frustration from the interrupted moment.

As Ayanna stepped in, she glanced over at Azzi, who was still laying on the bed, a playful grin curling on her lips. "Hey, uh, I’m Ayanna. Sorry for interrupting," she apologized, raising a hand in greeting.

Azzi’s laughter rang out as she shot Ayanna a look. "Don’t worry about it," she said, her voice light.

Ayanna looked between the two of them, eyes lingering the clear marks Paige left. She paused for a second, her lips quirking into a grin as she nodded toward the bed. "Seems like you two were having a good time," she said, a knowing glint in her eyes.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle at the subtle remark. "We were," she admitted, shooting Azzi a quick glance as she found the chain Ayanna had asked for. "But I guess it’ll have to wait." She handed the chain over to Ayanna, who accepted it with a grateful nod.

"Thanks," Ayanna said, giving both of them a sheepish smile. "I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t want to get in the way."

Paige gave her a smile, relieved that she could now finally get back to Azzi. "No problem," she said with a slight chuckle. "See you later."

As Ayanna left, closing the door softly behind her, Paige turned back to Azzi with a sly grin, her eyes still a little dark. She crossed the room and climbed back onto the bed, settling on top of Azzi once more.

"Now," Paige murmured, leaning down to capture Azzi's lips in a slow kiss, "where were we?"

Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s waist as she returned the kiss, the tension between them building again. But just as the moment began to intensify, Azzi gently pressed a hand against Paige’s shoulder, breaking the kiss with a soft laugh.

Paige blinked, confused. "What’s wrong?"

Azzi bit her lip, her cheeks tinted pink as she chuckled. "That was the universe trying to save me from the embarrassment of your team hearing me," she teased, her voice light but carrying a hint of sincerity.

Paige groaned dramatically, burying her face in Azzi’s neck before muttering, "The universe hates me." With a reluctant sigh, she pushed herself off of Azzi and flopped down beside her, one arm draping over Azzi’s stomach as she stared at the ceiling.

Azzi turned her head to look at Paige, her teasing smirk softening into something more affectionate. “You know,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from Paige’s face, “I’ve learned something about you.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Azzi grinned, “You’re pretty dramatic.”

Paige huffed out a laugh, tilting her head toward Azzi. “I’m allowed to be dramatic—it’s been a long day.”

Azzi chuckled at this, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek. “Fair enough,” she murmured. Reaching over, she grabbed the remote from where it lay forgotten on the bed.

“Alright,” Azzi said, settling back against the pillows. “Let’s find something we’ll actually watch this time.”

Paige smiled, her body relaxing as she shifted closer to Azzi, the moment between them now filled with a comforting ease.

…

January 2024

Paige had always been used to the spotlight, the constant expectations and scrutiny from the media. But after a recent game—one that, in her mind, had gone just fine—she was overwhelmed by the pressure. The game had been solid, not spectacular, but because she didn’t score 30, the media called it a "bad game." The headlines came fast, and her phone blew up with comments about how she didn’t deserve her projected draft position, how she would never be the one to lead UConn to a championship.

She drowned her frustration in alcohol at the bar where she and Azzi had met months ago. Paige absolutely hated feeling this way, lost in the opinions of others, feeling disconnected from her own love for the game. She ordered round after round, ignoring the warm buzz at the back of her mind as she tried to numb the constant spiral of negative thoughts.

Azzi had been texting Paige all night, but Paige had ignored the messages. She wanted to be left alone with her thoughts, no matter how dark they were, no matter how awful they made her feel.

At some point during the night, Azzi showed up. She had been worried when Paige’s messages stopped coming, and after doing a quick glance at socials she had a feeling Paige would be at the bar. Finding her slumped over at a corner table, nearly incoherent from the alcohol, Azzi rushed over, concerned. She managed to get Paige into her car and back to her place, basically carrying her to her room.

The room is dim, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner, casting long shadows across the floor. Paige stumbles as Azzi helps her sit on the edge of the bed, her movements slow and unsteady from the alcohol. Her face is flushed, her hair messy, and her eyes, though half-lidded with drunken exhaustion, are filled with something deeper—something darker, Paige looked broken.

Azzi pulls the blankets over her, but Paige swats them away, too restless, too tangled in her own thoughts.

"Azzi..." Paige’s voice is slurred. She lifts her head, locking eyes with Azzi. "I don’t even care anymore. About any of this." She gestures vaguely, her hand trembling slightly, as if the words themselves are heavy. "Basketball. The fans. The media. All of it. It doesn't matter. It never will. I hate it now Az.

Azzi, who had been sitting beside her, quietly watching Paige’s descent, let out a soft sigh. She watches Paige closely, trying to gauge if she’s speaking from the weight of the alcohol or if this is something deeper—something Paige can’t suppress anymore.

But Paige’s next words slice through the haze of drunkenness with a clarity that leaves Azzi speechless and heartbroken for the girl she’s grown to care about so much.

"My mom… she won’t even look at me if I’m not perfect." Paige's voice cracks on the last word, and her eyes well up, her vision blurring as she blinks hard. She doesn’t try to hide it. "If I don’t score enough, if I don’t win enough, if I’m not the best, she… she won’t even talk to me. It’s like I don’t exist unless I’m this… this thing she made me out to be." Her hands are shaking now, her chest tight, breath hitching as she speaks faster, more urgently. "I hate it. I hate how everyone just looks at me like I’m some fucking… machine that’s supposed to perform. I hate that I don’t even know who I am without all of it. Without the games, without the applause, without the pressure. I’m just… nothing."

Her voice breaks as she lets out a small sob, her body trembling as the weight of her own words crashes over her. Paige tilts her head back, staring at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing, trying to hold herself together.

Azzi sat frozen for a moment, her chest tightening as she listened to Paige’s words. The rawness in her voice, the cracks of vulnerability that Paige so rarely let show, cut deeper than anything Azzi had ever heard. Without thinking, she reached out, her hand finding Paige’s and gripping it tightly, grounding her.

"That’s not true," Azzi replies softly, her voice steady but warm. "You're not a 'nothing' to me. You’re someone who’s hurting. And that’s okay. It’s okay to hurt." She lowers her gaze to the floor for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she speaks again, her voice is firmer, more certain. "You don’t have to be perfect. You’re allowed to be flawed. We all are. I know what it’s like, feeling like you’re not enough—like you’ll never be enough, no matter how hard you try."

Paige’s gaze drifts downward, her thoughts swimming in a haze of alcohol and self-doubt. She looks up at Azzi, but her words come out bitter, a defense mechanism against the intense emotions bubbling just below the surface.

"You wouldn’t even entertain me if I wasn’t who I am," Paige mutters, almost too quietly for Azzi to hear. "I’m just a player on a pedestal. If I wasn’t who I am—if I was just… me—you wouldn’t even be here right now. You wouldn’t have talked to me that night.”

The words sting, hanging in the air like a cold weight. Azzi’s heart skips a beat, the sharp edge of Paige’s insecurity cutting deeper than she expected. She doesn’t respond immediately, unsure if the alcohol has distorted Paige's perception or if there’s truth in the words that sting too much to ignore.

For a long moment, Azzi simply watches Paige, her expression softening. Despite the hurt she feels from the insinuation, she knows this is just another layer of Paige’s pain speaking through her, the doubt and loneliness that plague her when she’s this vulnerable.

Azzi leans in slowly, and without saying a word, presses a gentle kiss to Paige’s cheek. It’s soft—like a quiet reassurance, an act of comfort without expectation. Paige’s eyes flutter, and she flinches just slightly, as though the unexpected touch has made her feel something she wasn’t prepared for, a softness she hasn’t felt in a while. So she doesn’t pull away.

Azzi pulls back just enough to meet her eyes, her voice gentle but firm. "That couldn’t be further from the truth and you know that Paige. You’re drunk so we’re not going to talk about this tonight."

Paige opens her mouth to say something, but the words never come. Instead, she sinks back into the bed, her body limp from the weight of the alcohol and the emotions swirling inside her.

Azzi stands, her heart still aching for Paige, but knowing the best thing she can do right now is give her space. She takes a deep breath, turns away, and heads toward the door.

"Get some rest," Azzi says softly, her voice like a whisper in the quiet room. "You don’t have to figure all of this out tonight. Just sleep, Paige."

Without another word, she leaves the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Paige can hear her footsteps down the hallway, moving further away. When she lies back against the pillows, the room feels impossibly empty.

Azzi settles down on the couch in the living room, the silence between them thick and unresolved. She pulls a blanket over her, eyes closed but unable to drift into sleep. There’s so much she wants to say to Paige, so much she wants to reassure her of. But right now, all she can do is wait—wait for Paige to come to terms with her own truth, and for herself to figure out how to be there when Paige is ready to hear it.

Azzi exhales softly into the dark, wishing she could fix it all, but knowing that this journey is one Paige has to take on her own.

The next morning, Paige wakes up with a splitting headache, her heart racing with the sudden realization of figuring out where she was. Paige groaned, pressing her palms against her temples as the pounding in her head intensified. The faint morning light streaming through the blinds felt like a spotlight, amplifying her discomfort. “Fuck, please no,” she muttered hoarsely, her voice scratchy and weak. Her heart raced slightly as she tried to piece together the events of the night before.

Where the hell am I? What did I do? The questions spiraled, sending a wave of nausea through her as flashes of the bar, the drinks, and her overwhelming feelings surfaced. A cold knot of dread formed in her chest.

Fuck Did I… do something? With someone that wasn’t… The thought made her stomach churn, guilt clawing at her even though she and Azzi weren’t technically together. Her memories were blurry, but the fear lingered, and she refused to let herself sink deeper into the pit of self-loathing.

Forcing her heavy limbs to cooperate, Paige shifted slightly, scanning her surroundings.

She glanced around the room, disoriented, before spotting the familiar art on the wall—the same art she had seen the few times she’d been here and Azzi had shown her during their first few Facetime calls. She exhaled in relief, but the sense of discomfort didn’t fade. Her mind raced with confusion about the night’s events. Her body felt heavy, sore, and her brain buzzed with the aftermath of the alcohol.

She noticed a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the dresser and quickly took the water, hoping to ease the pounding in her skull. She shuffled toward the kitchen, the faint sound of sizzling drawing her in. As she stepped into the doorway, she saw Azzi standing at the stove, her back turned as she carefully flipped something in a pan. The familiar sight should have put Paige at ease, but something was off. Azzi’s movements, usually fluid and unhurried, were now methodical, almost stiff.

Paige’s lips parted to speak, but she hesitated, unsure how to bridge the gap between them. Instead, she moved forward, wrapping her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. “Good morning,” she murmured, her voice was a little raspy.

Azzi froze for a moment before squeezing Paige’s hand briefly in acknowledgment. For a second, Paige thought things might be okay—until Azzi said softly, “Let go of me, please.” Paige immediately stepped back, her arms falling to her sides as she leaned against the counter.

Paige’s throat tightened, guilt swelling in her chest. “I’m sorry about last night,” she started, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes flickered to Azzi, who stood at the stove, her back still turned. The silence that followed felt heavier than the pounding in her head.

Azzi turned off the burner and set the spatula down carefully before facing Paige. Her face was composed, but her eyes carried a weight that made Paige’s stomach churn. Azzi crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter as she studied Paige with a look that made it hard to breathe.

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” Azzi’s voice wasn’t harsh, but the question hit like a hammer.

Paige opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. She swallowed hard before replying, “I wasn’t in a good place. I didn’t mean to be such a mess.”

Azzi’s expression didn’t soften. Her gaze stayed locked on Paige, who fidgeted under the scrutiny. “You weren’t just a mess, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice steady but laced with an undertone of frustration. “You scared me.”

Paige’s heart dropped at the words. She looked down, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter as if it could anchor her. “I’m sorry, Az,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I don’t know how to deal with it sometimes, and I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “You didn’t want to drag me into it?” she repeated, her tone hinting at some disbelief.

“Yeah,” Paige muttered, barely audible, the weight of her own words pressing down on her.

Azzi took a deep breath, turning back to the stove. She grabbed the plates, carefully dividing the eggs and bacon between them. Her movements were measured, but Paige could see the tension in her shoulders.

As Azzi set the plates down on the kitchen island, she spoke again, her voice softer but no less serious. “What do you mean by that?”

Paige hesitated, feeling the knot in her chest tighten. She slowly walked over to the island, pulling out a stool but not sitting down yet. “I mean… we’re not even together, Az,” she said, her voice strained. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I usually just handle it on my own.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened slightly, and she sat down, sliding one of the plates toward Paige, silently telling her to sit down. She didn’t touch her own food, her focus entirely on Paige. The silence that stretched between them was a little deafening.

Finally, Paige sat down beside her, but her hands stayed folded in her lap, her appetite nonexistent. She glanced at Azzi, whose posture was relaxed but whose eyes betrayed a storm of emotions.

Azzi leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the counter. “Paige,” she said gently, “you think being a burden is the same as needing help? Because it’s not.”

Paige looked down at her lap, her voice barely a whisper. “It feels like it is.”

Azzi shook her head, her tone softening even more. “You really have to stop doing this to yourself. You don’t have to carry all of it alone. Not with me. We’ve talked about this.”

Paige’s eyes stung, but she blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. “I just… I don’t want to mess things up. You mean too much to me. I don’t want you seeing that part of my life… to scare you away,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied Paige carefully. Her silence felt heavy, almost unbearable, as if she was weighing every word Paige had just said.

After a moment, Azzi spoke, her voice calm but tinged with something Paige couldn’t quite place. “You think that part of your life would scare me away?”

Paige nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I’ve dealt with it alone for so long because… it’s messy. I’m messy. And I didn’t want to put that on you.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she sat back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. She exhaled deeply, the weight of her thoughts apparent in the tension of her shoulders. After a beat, she leaned forward, her expression a mixture of frustration and care.

“Paige,” she began, her tone steady but laced with emotion, “I keep telling you over and over—you don’t need to deal with it alone anymore. I feel like I tell you that every single day.”

Paige glanced up, the vulnerability in Azzi’s voice cutting straight through her defenses.

Azzi shook her head lightly, her hands uncrossing to rest on the counter as she continued. “You’re not some burden I have to carry. Your life isn’t too messy for me. Stop thinking you have to keep everything locked inside because you don’t.”

Paige’s chest tightened, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her fork. She struggled to find the words, her voice barely audible as she whispered, “But what if it’s too much?”

Azzi met her gaze, unwavering. “Then we’ll have to deal with it together. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, Paige. But if you keep shutting me out every time you feel like things are falling apart, how can I help? How can I be there for you if you won’t let me?”

Paige’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She felt exposed, like Azzi could see every crack and flaw she had tried so hard to hide. And yet, there was no judgment in Azzi’s gaze—just unwavering patience and care.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Paige admitted, her voice trembling.

Azzi smiled gently, the corners of her mouth barely lifting, but the warmth in her expression was undeniable. “I don’t either… but we’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “But it starts with you letting me in even when it’s ugly.”

Paige nodded slowly, her eyes glistening as she whispered, “I know, I’m sorry baby.”

Azzi didn’t reply, her hand reaching out to rest on Paige’s.

The moment hung between them, heavy with meaning, until the sound of Azzi’s roommate entering the kitchen disrupted the fragile silence.

Azzi glanced at Paige, her voice gentler now. “We’ll talk more later. Just… eat something, okay? I really don’t want you throwing up on my counter.”

Paige offered a faint smile, her heart still racing, and picked up her fork again. The food still felt heavy, but Azzi’s words lingered, a thread of hope tying her together.

…

February 2024

Azzi had a big game tonight. It was the first time Paige had attended one of her games making promises that she would find time to come to one despite her own schedule. Paige wasn’t just showing up because it was important to Azzi—she was showing up because it meant the world to her that Azzi knew she had someone there, cheering her on, no matter what. It didn’t matter that Paige was recognized by fans or that people were whispering about her presence as soon as she walked in. All that mattered to her was Azzi.

The game was packed with energy, but Paige couldn’t focus on anything except Azzi. She watched intently, her eyes never leaving her. Azzi’s every move was so graceful and confident, and as Paige watched her in her element her chest swelled with pride.

Azzi, in turn, couldn’t help but glance over at Paige every so often, her heart skipping each time their eyes met. It didn’t matter that the crowd was roaring, or that her teammates were all over her after she hit a big shot. In those moments, it was just her looking at Paige.

After the game, as Azzi made her way off the court, she spotted Paige waiting for her in the stands. She walked straight to her, her smile widening as she approached her.

“You actually came,” Azzi said, breathless, a playful laugh in her voice.

Paige’s smile was immediate and wide. “Of course I did. I told you I would. You were amazing out there.”

Azzi’s grin softened, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “It means a lot that you’re here. I know things are crazy for you with your schedule going into march, so this… it says a lot.”

Paige stepped closer, her heart racing as she reached out, pulling Azzi into a hug. The hug was deep and comforting, lingering just a little longer than usual. The crowd around them started to murmur—surprised to see the two together, given Paige’s status and the two of them never being seen together before this moment. They were close, but this moment was something else. Paige held Azzi tighter, wanting her to know just how much she meant to her. Azzi reciprocated, her grip on Paige firm as she took in the moment.

As they pulled apart, a few fans who had been watching took note of their closeness. Whispers began to circulate, but neither of them paid any attention. They were in their own world.

Paige smiled softly at Azzi, her voice quieter than usual. “I’m proud of you.”

Azzi looked at her, her eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

The two of them stood there, a quiet bubble in the middle of the chaos, just taking in the moment. Azzi’s smile was soft, a mix of exhaustion and happiness, but there was something deeper in her eyes. Paige had kept her promise. She was here. For her.

Paige pulled Azzi in for another hug and they held each other for a moment longer than most people would have expected, and it felt so right that neither of them wanted to pull away. Azzi couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through her chest. It wasn’t just the win, it was having Paige there—fully present, giving her all her attention, all her support, in a world that constantly asked for her attention in a hundred different directions.

Before they could say anything more, a few fans, recognizing Paige, began to approach. Their voices cut through the quiet, making Azzi’s smile falter just a little. But she didn't mind. That was the reality of Paige’s world. But it was still strange, seeing her become the center of attention even in this moment when it felt like it was just for them.

One fan, a young woman, stepped up, a hopeful grin on her face. "Hey, Paige! Can we get a quick picture? Big fan of yours!"

Another fan, a man holding a jersey that wasn’t Paige’s, chimed in, "An autograph too, please?"

Paige, still holding Azzi’s gaze, didn’t break her focus. She gave the fans a polite smile, but her voice was a little firmer than usual.

"Not tonight, guys. Sorry," she said, her tone calm but respectful. "I'm just here for someone else tonight." A few of the fans murmured in disappointment but ultimately understood as they gave the girls space.

“It’s okay, really,” Azzi said gently. She stepped forward, a reflexive smile on her face. “You can take a picture, I’ll wait for you—”

Before she could finish, Paige’s hand tightened around hers, as she looked at the girl, meeting Azzi’s eyes.

“No,” Paige said simply, a slight edge of protectiveness in her tone. “I’m only here for you, Az. Tonight, it’s just you and me.”

Azzi froze for a moment, her breath catching at Paige’s words. There was no hesitation in her voice—no compromise. Paige’s eyes were steady, unwavering, and Azzi realized then that this wasn’t just about a promise she’d made; it was about the space Paige was creating just for Azzi in her life, in front of everyone, despite the noise and the demands of the crowd.

Azzi blinked, her chest tightening with gratitude, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. "That was… sweet," Azzi said, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned a little closer to Paige. "I didn’t expect that."

Paige shrugged, the corner of her mouth turning up into a half-smile. "I told you I don’t let anything or anyone take me away from the important things. And you," she said, her voice dropping just a little, her eyes soft and focused on Azzi, "are important."

Azzi’s smile softened, a small laugh escaping her lips, her eyes filled with a quiet affection. “You’re incredible,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige’s grin grew, her fingers gently squeezing Azzi’s hand. “I’m not the one who just dropped 32, remember?” she teased.

Azzi laughed, the sound light and carefree, before she pulled Paige a little closer, the gym now basically empty, their hands still linked. “You know..you’re lucky because I think I’m falling for you Paige Bueckers,” Azzi said softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

There it was—the truth, as simple and real as anything they’d said. And though the moment could have felt heavy, it didn’t. It felt freeing, like something they’d both been dancing around for too long had finally come to the surface.

“Well I fell for you a long time ago Azzi Fudd” Paige whispered back, her voice steady but full of meaning.

They stood there for a beat, their faces close, breaths mingling, the tension and connection thick enough to taste. It was a moment that felt timeless—like nothing else mattered, except for the two of them.

But just as they were about to close the distance between them, a voice broke through the quiet.

"Azzi!" It was one of her teammates, jogging over to them with a small smile. "Coach is looking for you."

Azzi’s smile faltered just a little, the reality of her responsibilities coming back into focus. She sighed softly, looking at Paige with a mix of regret and affection.

Paige smiled, though her heart gave a small twinge at the interruption. “Don’t worry I’ll be here,” she said, giving Azzi’s hand one last squeeze before letting go. “I’ll wait for you by my car.”

Azzi nodded, her eyes softening, and she leaned in for a brief kiss on Paige’s cheek. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

Paige smiled back, watching as Azzi turned and jogged off toward the locker room.

March 2024

The energy in the arena was electric, the air vibrating with the sound of fans chanting Paige’s name. Her jersey dotted the crowd, worn by people of all ages, from little kids with wide eyes to older fans who clapped enthusiastically after every play. Azzi had known Paige was a big deal—she’d seen it all over social media, heard the commentators wax poetic about her talent, saw people approaching her first hand out in public—but sitting here, surrounded by the deafening adoration of thousands, was something else entirely.

It didn’t seem to affect Paige at all. On the court, she was a force of nature, her every move calculated, her focus seemingly unshakable. Azzi couldn’t look away, captivated by the way Paige commanded the game. There was a fluidity to her movements, a confidence that made it impossible not to admire her. Watching her in person was different from watching her on TV—there was an energy to it, an intensity that didn’t translate through a screen.

Azzi sat there quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself in the sea of fans, though she doubted anyone would recognize her with all eyes on Paige. They hadn’t had a chance to talk before the game, and Azzi wasn’t even sure Paige knew she was there. Part of her hoped Paige would notice her, but she knew how focused the blonde got when she stepped onto the court.

But then it happened.

It was quick—so quick that the cameras definitely didn’t catch it, and most of the crowd didn’t seem to notice. Paige sank a deep three and as she jogged back on defense, her eyes flicked briefly to the section where Azzi was sitting. She pointed in Azzi’s direction, a subtle gesture that could have been overlooked if you weren’t paying attention.

A small smile spread across Azzi’s face, her heart fluttering at the acknowledgment. She wasn’t just another face in the crowd to Paige. That quick moment, fleeting as it was, felt personal—like it was just for her.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, her smile lingering as she watched Paige fall seamlessly back into her rhythm, her focus unbroken. The way Paige could still find a way to connect with her in the middle of all this chaos, only made Azzi admire her more.

…

After the game the crowd hadn’t fully thinned out by the time Paige made her way toward Azzi, stopping every few steps to sign jerseys, posters, and anything fans shoved in her direction. Her usual easy smile and charm were on full display, but Azzi could see the subtle exhaustion in her movements. Still, when Paige finally reached her, her face lit up in a way that made Azzi’s chest tighten.

Without a word, Paige pulled Azzi into a tight hug, dropping her head onto Azzi’s shoulder and exhaling deeply. Azzi’s smile softened as she wrapped her arms around Paige, resting her cheek against the blonde’s temple. The moment felt intimate, even with the buzz of fans and cameras surrounding them.

When they finally pulled away, Paige’s lips twitched into a smirk as she licked them, her eyes glinting with mischief. “So… you want me to sign your jersey?” she teased.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the small grin tugging at her lips gave her away. “I’m not a fan,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Paige gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “Wowww, my own girl isn’t my fan?”

Azzi shook her head, her smile widening. “I’m probably your number one fan, actually.”

Paige’s smirk deepened, and she grabbed the sharpie from someone behind her. “That’s more like it,” she quipped. Without hesitation, she bent down slightly to scribble her signature across of Azzi’s jersey.

Azzi glanced down, noticing the hearts Paige had added at the end of her usual autograph. “Hearts huh?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Special treatment,” Paige murmured, her voice low enough that only Azzi could hear.

As the two stood there, fans crowded nearby, calling Paige’s name and clamoring for her attention. Paige glanced over briefly, flashing her signature smile and promising to get to them in a moment, but her focus quickly returned to Azzi.

For that instant, it felt like they were in their own little bubble. Paige stepped back slightly, her gaze lingering on Azzi. “Thanks for coming,” she said softly, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the noise around them.

“You played amazing,” Azzi replied, her voice equally soft, though there was a distinct note of admiration in her tone.

Paige’s smile widened, her shoulders relaxing as she pulled Azzi into another hug. This one lingered longer, Paige’s hands resting securely against Azzi’s back. She leaned in just enough to murmur, “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, pulling back slightly to meet Paige’s gaze. “Later,” she promised.

Paige smirked at the reply. With a quick glance at the barrier separating them, Paige reached down and helped Azzi step over the rope, ensuring she was on the same side as her.

Once Azzi was safely on the other side, Paige flagged down a staff member. “Can you take her to the back for me? I’ll meet her there in a few minutes,” she said, her tone polite yet firm, making it clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Azzi hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning Paige’s face, but Paige gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back there soon I promise,” she said, squeezing Azzi’s hand briefly before turning her attention back to the eager fans still calling her name.

Azzi nodded, casting one last glance at Paige before following the staff member toward the back. Paige stood for a moment, watching her disappear into the crowd, before turning back to the fans with her usual bright smile, ready to finish taking pictures and signing autographs.

…

When Paige and Azzi stepped into the dorm, the silence greeted them like an unspoken invitation. No one else was around yet—a rare luxury that Paige didn’t intend to waste. She dropped her bag carelessly by the door, her arm draped casually over Azzi’s shoulder as they walked inside.

As soon as the door to the suite clicked shut, Paige turned to Azzi, wasting no time. Her hands found Azzi’s face as she leaned in, pulling her into a deep kiss. “I missed you so much,” Paige murmured against Azzi’s lips, her voice tinged with a mix of longing and relief.

Azzi pulled back just enough to laugh, her hands resting lightly on Paige’s waist. “You just saw me last week,” she teased, her grin warm and playful.

Paige shrugged, her fingers gently trailing down Azzi’s arm. “Doesn’t matter,” she said with a smirk.

Azzi shook her head, her smile softening as she looked at Paige. “It’s empty in here,” she noted, her tone dropping slightly, her implication clear.

Paige’s smirk widened as she caught the hint, and before she could respond, Azzi reached for the jersey she had on. In one smooth motion, she tugged it off, revealing her bra beneath it, and turned on her heel, heading toward Paige’s room without a word.

Paige stood frozen for a moment, her lips parting in surprise before breaking into a grin. “Fucking finally,” she muttered under her breath, her heart racing as she followed Azzi down the short hallway.

When they reached her door, Paige paused briefly, grabbing a couple of hair ties from her desk and slipping them onto the outside of the door handle. She shut the door behind her with a soft click, her gaze fixed on Azzi, who was already sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her with a smile on her face.

Paige stepped closer to Azzi, her hands instinctively finding their way to Azzi’s face as she settled herself between her legs. Her movements were slow as if savoring every second. She leaned down, her forehead briefly brushing against Azzi’s before capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

Pulling back just enough to whisper, Paige’s voice was filled with a raw tenderness. “I love you so much,” she said, her blue eyes searching Azzi’s as though trying to convey everything words couldn’t.

Azzi’s lips curved into a warm smile, her hands gliding up Paige’s sides. “I love you more, superstar,” she teased softly, though her tone carried a depth of sincerity that made Paige’s heart swell.

Before Paige could respond, Azzi tugged her down, their laughter mixing as Paige allowed herself to fall gently on top of her. She buried her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent that had become a source of comfort and peace.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Paige allowed herself to fully let go. No pressure, no cameras, no expectations—just the steady rhythm of Azzi’s heartbeat beneath her and the quiet certainty that she had found something she never wanted to let go of.

Settling deeper into Azzi’s embrace kissing her deeply, Paige realized she was finally with the woman who had changed her life in less than a year.