#i think the clip was from a couple days ago

[tryandbehappy]

it's funny how we wondered how belly will end up back with Conrad after being so in love with jere...And to think that all they are doing is trying to manipulate the audience into Conrad being the better person (all of a sudden) instead of being right for Belly.. Laughable.

They are currently stripping Jeremiah away from who he is. It is in these small moments yk. Like faltering about Paris which to me, no other season Jeremiah would have faltered about no matter the circumstance. Taking his take caring moments from book 3 and putting them on Belly, even though we have had 2 seasons of him actively taking care of her whenever she opens up to him. Not that he doesn't do that, he does. But they are purposely putting more weight on the Belly of it all. Not showing their relationship in barely any flashback so that whoever is not too invested won't feel the four year weight. Taking bellyjere book flashbacks and giving them to..Laurel? Of all people?

And after years of selling bellyjere as the couple with the deep connection they have with nobody else (mind you, this isn't a switch over seasons. they said this in a literal bonus clip that aired after one of the episodes, so a few days or weeks ago) suddenly in interviews (conveniently in the ones jere's actor is not in) they are trying to sell bonrad as the deep connection vs Jeremiah being...fun.

They are flipping the narrative and atp I won't be surprised if I see a full season 2 bellyjere dialogue come out in a bonrad scene. It is so see-through and it is making me really mad rn because...how does a writer do this? And how do so many people not see it?

Jere is still there under the surface, and his and Belly's relationship I still love and it IS them...but I can't turn a blind eye on this abysmal narrative choice.

You want to tell me that you are trying to make me think bonrad is better...by somehow turning Conrad into Jeremiah 2.0? By turning bonrad into bellyjere 2.0? This is...what am I even watching?

I wonder if you see it to. To me, it is blatantly clear. Watch them make Connie baby push her for Paris...as if Jeremiah didn't already do that. And as if she can't make any of her own life decisions without other influences anymore.

Yeah, yeah, yeah — it’s total bullshit. And not just because it’s ridiculous, but because it’s not even true.

Like, they’re trying to say Jere is somehow immature — but everything we’ve seen so far shows the opposite. He’s actually been mature. (Like… drinking beer and smoking weed in college doesn’t automatically make someone immature. Immaturity shows up in things like lack of emotional intelligence, inability to take responsibility, being emotionally unstable, not knowing how to support your partner, and so on)

I already talked about the Paris thing separately — how it was entirely her decision, and he had absolutely no influence over it.

Like, if they wanted to show that something’s off with him, then show it — have him try to convince her not to go, say he’ll miss her too much, have him whine about it or guilt-trip her. That would create a totally different impression. But no. She makes the decision on her own. And he even asks her multiple times if she’s sure. She says yes — completely sure. Plus, there was already a scene earlier where he supported her about going to Paris.

And again — they’re framing Conrad like he’s the “good one,”. But where is that goodness? He hasn’t worked through anything in therapy, he hasn’t grown in any meaningful way… so even that angle isn’t well-executed.

But it does seem like they’re heading toward some huge dramatic move from Jere — something that will “discredit” him completely and blow up the relationship. And that’s how the couple falls apart: not because the love is gone, but because one side of the triangle gets written off as “the idiot.”

At least, that’s the impression I get from all the interviews and press stuff coming out right now. And also from the leaks.

I can’t think of a single love triangle where the structure goes like this:

• One of the love interests turns out to be an idiot, despite having emotional history and love with the main character

• So they don’t end up together → and she just goes with the one who’s left 😆

Usually, it’s more like:

• Both love interests are good in their own way

• And the main character chooses based on her heart — who her true love is and with whom she has a deep connection

Seriously, if this is what they’re doing — then it’s really bad. Like, really bad. No matter how you look at it, from any angle, it just doesn’t hold up. People with actual intelligence can see it and analyze it for what it is.

[day-mark]

i mean we dont know if she said anything privately too but the fact that there was definitely a chance that robbo and tubbo and whatever other fuckass man wouldve kept running with that story had the clip not been found

[born-to-lose]

The secret truly is to leave on a high note and have them give you their social media handle or number, they'll crave you forever

[cy-cyborg]

Free Manual Wheelchair Reference Models

ID: A banner with grey 3D models of 5 kinds of manual wheelchairs in a line in front of the disability pride flag and text that reads "Manual Wheelchair References" /End ID

Edit: Since this post still gets picked up from time to time, an update is available for these models

For disability pride month, I decided to release a pack of 3D manual wheelchair models.

The pack includes 5 wheelchairs:

2 Active urban-style chairs (one of which includes a smart drive)

1 off-road active chair

1 children's wheelchair

and 1 standard "hospital" wheelchair).

All the wheelchairs are based off either wheelchairs I or friends of mine have used

Downloadable here!

or on the Clip Studio Paint Asset Store (ID 2097442) (there's been an issue with the CSP version, but the models in the download folder can be imported into clip studio paint until I can fix it)

More info about the download contents below:

The first download link includes the original .Blend file with all 5 chairs, as well as individual .obj or .fbx files the chairs (All but 1 have an .obj file, as they're only meshes. The chair with the smart drive is rigged, which is why it has an .Fbx file instead so it will retain that information) as well as a "read me" file that explains in more depth what kind of disability/character/lifestyle each chair is made for (These are just what I had in mind when I designed them, they are usable by other characters who don't fit the suggestions for the most part!) I wanted to include the Read Me contents in the CSP Asset Store listing, but CS said it was too long lol.

Also, as the title says, these files are free to use! While it's not mandatory, I would appreciate credit if you use them (or even just a tag so I can see the cool art you make with them!!)

I actually made these ages ago, the original plan was to use them in a series of posts then release the pack, but I never got around to making the series and so they've just been sitting here. I took a day off from art fight attacks to clean them all up and get them ready to post. If you experience any issues, let me know and I'll try to fix it up.

I had a couple more that were supposed to be in the pack including a sports (basketball/Tennis) wheelchair and some different styles of wheelchair, but I think the files corrupted so once I fix (or remake) them, I'll probably make a second pack.

If you have any issues, please let me know!

[rotapathetic]

͏͏͏✧ ྅ ˚ . ᯇ * TWITCH STREAMER!RAFE IS LIVE ㅤ⁝ㅤ opening p.o. mail ۫ : .

❛i get why you hid her i would too❜ : bold text is stream chat! 💬

rafe cut the tape of the box, glancing at the chat. “my p.o. box is linked in discord i think, but mods, could you link it and pin it? thanks.” he looked down when he finally got the box open.

“alright, first one of the day. i’ll name this stream p.o. mail then change it later. there is a lot, and i’m opening them all because i’ve been meaning to get to it, so buckle in i guess.”

user pretty box user is it cool if i just send a letter? i don’t have any items to send right now user open mine next!!

“you don’t even have to send anything, but if you do, it most definitely doesn’t have to be an item. i love letters and i appreciate them, that’s totally fine. . and let me know which box is yours when you see it,” he addressed both chats.

rafe pulled out the first thing inside which was a little packaging. he opened it, pulling out a couple of keychains. some of them had legos attached or a little trinket, or just pretty stones. “woah, this is cool. you know your stuff, you know i like legos. this will make me use keychains more, thank you. is it okay if i give the others to someone? she’ll love them.”

user that’s my box! yes, i made the other ones for her lol

rafe read the chat, raising a brow. “oh, really? that’s so nice. yeah, she’ll go crazy. i’ll set them aside for her.”

rafe clipped one of the chains onto his pants, putting the rest away. he reached back into the box, pulling out a funko pop and a blind box. rafe chuckled when he noticed the difference. “did you make a his and hers box? one thing for me, the other for her?”

user at first i was mainly putting in things for her 😭 then i remembered i should put stuff you like too user that’s such a cute idea user she’ll love that

“that’s insanely kind you thought of her. she’ll really appreciate it.” rafe grabbed the last thing which was a note. he read it aloud, “‘hi, rafe. i just wanted to give you some things in return for giving me a new favorite streamer lol. i watched one vod a month ago and have since watched like all of your streams. you’re pretty funny i guess. there’s stuff for both of you guys in here so hope you like them,’ and then she drew a smiley face,” rafe finished the letter.

“don’t try to humble me about being funny, you know i am. but thanks so much. i keep all of these letters just so you guys know. i don’t throw them out or anything.”

user sweeettt user there he goes trying to be funny again

rafe put the items back inside the box, separating the letter, and put it to the side. “alright, next box. this is from. .” rafe tilted the box to read the name, “a crochet business. oh, that’s cool, my girlfriend crochets,” he opened it, pulling out a note. he read it aloud, “‘big fan of your streams! but i heard your girlfriend likes crochet. . so i made some things for her. hopefully she likes them!,’” rafe read.

“and this is her business,” rafe held up the box where there was a qr code and the name of their shop.

user wait this is all for her awhh

“she will really like this. i’ll let her open it.” rafe stood and walked off camera to roll over another gaming chair and put it next to his.

user wait a minute. . user awh she has her own chair

“pretty girl. .” rafe called out, “could you come here?” rafe looked to the doorway, waiting for you. when you appeared, slightly nervous, rafe held out a hand. “there’s something for you.”

you made your way to him, accepting his hand, then placing both on his shoulders, glancing over them to see what he held. “what is it?”

“sit down, you have to open them.” rafe looked over his shoulder to you. so you did, sitting in the chair he pulled over. the chair he bought when you told him you felt comfortable to be on camera now. the chair he had customized, despite your reluctance.

you sat, putting your hands in your lap, avoiding looking into the camera. that’s probably weird to do.

user dude finally user reveal!!! user wait chat don’t make a big deal or she’ll never come back user i get why you hid her i would too user prettyyy user hi!!

rafe handed you the box, giving all of his attention to you instead of the viewers. he wanted to make sure you felt as comfortable as possible and not like thousands of people were watching you.

“opening my p.o. mail and someone sent you some crochet items. want to see the note?” your eyes widened, taking in the box. “really? yeah, can i see?” you reached for the note, reading it. your shy disposition faltered slightly at seeing something cute, and it was made for you. you slightly pouted as you read, looking up to rafe. “no way. rafe, this is so sweet.”

rafe bit a smile, nodding. “it is. i said you would like it.”

you looked to the monitor that displayed the chat, trying to catch all of the chats, but they were moving pretty quickly.

user what’s your @ ?? user open it!! user i think the owner is in the chat user yeah, she’s freaking out

“um. . to whoever sent this, thank you. i will for sure check you out. i know i’ll love this,” you looked back down to the package, opening it. inside was one balaclava, a plushie, headphone covers, and a keychain.

you were in awe as you pulled out each item, showing them to the camera. “i have to wear this balaclava, it’s so cute. you know my color palette,” you put it on, looking to rafe. “cute, right?”

he couldn’t hold back his smile now, pulling out his phone to take a picture. “i have to capture this. baby’s first stream and mail.”

user i’m sooo happy for you guys love that really user is it okay if i make fan art of you??

rafe read the chat, grabbing another package, this one smaller than the first two. “if you could draw me, that’d be dope, yeah.” rafe opened it, pulling out two small containers.

user not you! sorry, her

rafe was still frowning at the items, unsure what they were as you read the chat for him. “me?” you pointed a finger to your chest. “that would be awesome, yes it’s okay. you don’t have to!”

rafe was still unaware of the chat, scrunching a brow, and tilting the item up. “are these nails? ohhh, they’re nails.” rafe showed the little containers to you. you gasped, grabbing them. “oh my gosh, these are so cute! i love them,” you examined them both, both sets nail sets you would wear. how did someone know you would like these?

rafe looked to the monitor. “do you guys want me to just leave the stream?” he partially joked, mostly serious.

user yes! user i mean we weren’t going to say it

you shook your head, “no, this is your thing. i’m sure there is stuff for you, of course.” you showed the nails to the camera. “guys, look at how adorable. is your business name somewhere?”

you turned the package around, spotting the name. “pretty and pressed, that’s so cute. i really like these, thank you so much. okay, rafe’s turn. no more me.” you even rolled your chair back a little, putting the attention on him.

rafe rose a brow, pulling your chair back by the armrest, closer to him this time. “right. . on to the next. .” he grabbed a bigger box with wording on the top. “e.l.f.? it’s not christmas time?”

your head swiveled to look at the box. “no, it’s not. .” rafe shrugged, showing the box to you. “yeah, e.l.f. you know them?”

user no way!! user hello? 😭 user not the christmas elf rafe!

“rafe, this is a makeup brand. that can’t be right. .” you didn’t want to accept another gift on a stream that isn’t even yours! “they have products men can use, skincare stuff. i’m sure that’s for you.” you tried to rationalize.

rafe opened the lid, grabbing the note that lied on top. he read aloud, “‘we heard there was a mystery girl that your chat has been going crazy over! no pressure, just let her know we have some items we think she’d love! love, the e.l.f. team,’” rafe read.

user oh she’s getting pr!!

“baby, this is for you! that’s so cool. this is cool, right? i still don’t know who they are.” rafe tried handing the box to you. instead, you sat still, staring it. “there’s stuff you can use in there, right?” you asked.

rafe looked into the box, shaking his head. “no, this looks like makeup.” he tried handing it over again.

you stammered. “but rafe. . this is really cool, yes, and i’m grateful, but where’s your mail? why do i have so much?”

rafe smiled at your upset face. “because they thought exactly what i did when i first saw you. wanted to buy you things before i even talked to you.”

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which it was time for paige to share her life to the world

The Dallas heat clung to everything—your skin, your clothes, your breath. It had been one of those dry, hazy spring days where the city buzzed with anticipation, and today that energy had a name: Paige Bueckers.

Drafted to the Wings only a week ago, your wife had already been pulled in a hundred different directions—interviews, photoshoots, press conferences, sponsor obligations. And tonight, a team dinner to cap it all off.

You knew she was exhausted. You’d seen it in the slump of her shoulders when she got dressed earlier, the tired smile she gave you as she kissed your cheek goodbye. Still, she went. Paige always did the hard thing with grace.

You stayed home with your daughter.

The dinner had started off light—wings, tacos, laughter echoing around the table at some local spot her new teammates loved. Everyone was still riding high from the buzz around the team, and Paige, though quiet at first, settled in after a couple rounds of teasing and margaritas (which she didn’t even sip, but they still joked like she was three drinks in).

“So Paige,” Arike Ogunbowale said from across the table, grinning, “you and Azzi… what’s the deal?”

It was casual, playful—just a nudge in the middle of the chaos—but the whole table paused. Even the waitress setting down guacamole looked like she froze mid-motion.

Paige blinked once, then laughed. It was genuine, warm, and more amused than anything. “Me and Azzi? Nah. We’re just close. Like… family.”

Arike nodded, her mouth full of tortilla chip. “Okay, okay. Just checking. Social media’s obsessed.”

One of the rookies chimed in, “Yeah, I mean, you’re always together.”

Paige shrugged, still smiling. “That’s what happens when you’ve known someone since you were fifteen. She’s my best friend, that’s all.”

There was a flicker of something protective in her voice. Not sharp, but final.

The questions faded, and the conversation shifted toward next week’s training schedule. Paige let herself relax again, but a weight settled in her chest. They didn’t mean any harm. But part of her still hated that people couldn’t imagine her love life without assuming it had to be another basketball player.

No one had guessed the truth.

It was late when she got home. The house was quiet, soft golden light from the kitchen spilling into the hallway. Her sneakers came off with a sigh, and she padded softly down the hall.

First stop: the nursery.

The door was slightly cracked. Inside, a small figure lay sprawled on her belly, wild curly hair fanned out against the sheets. Her favorite stuffed puppy was clutched in one hand, the other hand thrown dramatically over her head like a tiny diva.

Paige stepped inside slowly, carefully. Her heart melted instantly.

She bent down, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I love you, bug,” she whispered, so low it was barely sound. “So much.”

She lingered there for a second—watching, listening to the even rhythm of her baby girl’s breathing—then gently closed the door behind her.

You were propped up in bed when Paige came in, your face glowing in the light from the TV. A rerun of Chopped was on low volume, the judges arguing about undercooked scallops. You looked over as she entered, your expression instantly softening.

“There’s my superstar,” you teased.

Paige’s face cracked into a tired grin. She kicked off her hoodie and jeans and climbed into bed beside you, settling against the pillows with a heavy sigh. “I’m so tired I think my bones are asleep.”

You chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. “You handled that media circuit like a champ. I saw the clips.”

She groaned, turning her face into your neck. “So many questions. And they all ask the same thing. ‘What are you most excited about? How does it feel to be in Dallas? Do you think you and Azzi are soulmates?’”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what?”

Paige leaned back and looked at you, laughing. “I’m not kidding. One of my teammates asked if Azzi and I are a thing. The whole table went quiet like it was the tea of the night.”

You couldn’t help your smirk. “And what did you say?”

“That she’s like my sister,” Paige said, deadpan. “But I guess people don’t expect me to be married to someone who isn’t also a Nike-sponsored hooper.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, they can keep wondering.”

Paige reached for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours. She toyed with your wedding ring. “I don’t really care what they think. I just hate not being able to say it out loud.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But here, with us… you don’t have to hide.”

A beat passed.

Then Paige looked toward the ceiling, her eyes fluttering shut. “Sometimes I just wanna scream it. ‘I’m married to the love of my life and we have the most amazing little girl and I’m not dating my best friend!’”

You laughed quietly, running your fingers through her hair. “You’re tired.”

She nodded into your chest. “I am. But happy tired.”

For a few minutes, you lay in silence, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows across the room. Her breathing slowed. Her hand still clutched yours.

Then she whispered, “She was asleep when I checked in on her.”

“Was she curled up like a little croissant again?”

“No,” Paige said, grinning against your skin. “Starfish mode tonight. She’s dramatic, just like you.”

You chuckled, closing your eyes as Paige snuggled in closer, her voice barely a breath now. “Thanks for holding it down at home.”

“Always,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Now sleep. You’ve got a city to conquer tomorrow.”

And with your arms wrapped around her, the soft hum of the TV, and your daughter safe down the hall, Paige finally let go—of the noise, the questions, the pressure—and drifted off in the quiet comfort of home.

Saturdays had a different feel now.

In Connecticut, it used to mean quiet coffee runs and long naps between workouts. But now, in Dallas, Saturdays were noisy. Messy. Beautiful. They started with sticky pancake fingers, early cartoons, and your daughter toddling around the kitchen with one sock on, yelling that she was a “big girl” and didn’t need a bib.

You and Paige had decided early on that today was just for the three of you. No media. No workouts. No press. Just a family day under the sun.

And so you found yourselves at a park, right in the middle of downtown Dallas. It was a bright, cloudless day. Families filled the green spaces, music echoed from a nearby jazz trio, and the food trucks lined up like a mini festival.

Your daughter, Emma—two and a half years old and already a firecracker—clung to Paige’s hand like she was leading a grand expedition across the grass.

“Where are we going, baby?” Paige asked, her sunglasses perched on her head, her other hand holding your iced lemonade.

“To da dogs!” Emma shouted, pointing at the off-leash area where a dozen bouncing golden retrievers played in a chaotic fur ball.

Paige gasped dramatically. “THE DOGS? Why didn’t you say so sooner?!”

She scooped Em into her arms, spinning her in a wide circle that sent squeals of laughter into the breeze.

You followed behind, grinning like a lovestruck idiot, because no matter how many times you saw Paige with your daughter, it never got old.

After the dogs (which Em referred to as “her friends”), you found a shaded bench by the splash pad. Shoes were off. Chubby toddler legs were kicking water in all directions. Paige sat cross-legged on the concrete beside her, letting the spray hit her jeans, not caring one bit.

“Okay, okay,” Paige said, pointing at a tiny spout, “if I put my hand here, will it spray me in the face?”

Your daughter nodded, wild-eyed. “Yes! Do it! Do it!”

Paige pretended to consider. “I dunno… seems risky.”

“Do it, Mama! Be brave!”

You watched from the bench, barely holding back a laugh as Paige gave in with theatrical flair. She slapped her palm on the stream and—true to your daughter’s prediction—it shot directly into her face.

Both of them screamed.

Your daughter collapsed into giggles, falling back into your lap as Paige wiped her face and feigned betrayal.

“I trusted you!” she cried.

“I sorry,” your daughter said through giggles, not sorry at all.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a tiny little prankster, that’s what you are.”

She pounced, grabbing your daughter from your arms and tickling her belly until the poor girl was a breathless, wriggling mess.

Later, after lunch from a taco truck and ice cream melting faster than you could eat it, the three of you laid on a picnic blanket near the edge of the park. Paige was on her back, your daughter curled up on her chest, slowly blinking up at the blue sky. She was coming down from her sugar high, hair damp from the water, eyelids fluttering.

You leaned over, resting your head on Paige’s shoulder.

“Tired?” you asked.

“Like, I’d-rather-get-run-over-by-a-scooter-than-move tired,” Paige whispered back. “But this is the happiest I’ve been in… I don’t even know how long.”

You looked down at your daughter’s little hand resting on Paige’s shirt, her tiny thumb unconsciously stroking Paige’s collarbone. Paige didn’t even seem to notice—she was so used to the closeness now.

“She loves you so much,” you said, your voice quiet.

Paige turned her head to look at you. “I’d give her the moon if she asked.”

You smiled, and she kissed you softly, the kind of kiss that didn’t need fireworks or urgency—just comfort and presence. Just love.

The sun dipped lower, casting golden light across the buildings. You started packing up while Paige stayed sprawled out on the blanket, your daughter now fully asleep, mouth slightly open, cheek pressed to Paige’s chest.

As you folded up the corner of the blanket, Paige looked up at you, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think they’ll ever get used to this?” she asked.

“Who?”

“The world. The media. Everyone who thinks I should be with Azzi or still single. Everyone who can’t imagine I’d choose this—quiet Saturdays and sippy cups over spotlight interviews.”

You met her gaze and smiled softly. “They don’t have to understand it. You just have to live it.”

Paige looked down at the little bundle on her chest, then back at you. “I’m living it. And it’s perfect.”

By the time you made it back to the car, your daughter was groggy and muttering something about needing her stuffed puppy. Paige kissed her forehead, promised they’d find it when they got home, then strapped her gently into the car seat.

As she closed the door, you caught her hand.

“Hey,” you murmured, tugging her in.

She stepped into you easily, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Thank you,” you whispered against her temple.

“For what?” she asked.

“For being this. For loving us like this.”

Paige tilted her head, brushing her lips across your jaw. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

And with your daughter softly snoring in the backseat, the air still warm with sun and laughter, you believed her with your whole heart.

Sundays in Dallas were slower, warmer in every way. The city was quieter. Even the breeze felt lazy, like it didn’t have anywhere to be. Today, you and Paige had taken your daughter to the Dallas Farmers Market — your favorite spot for fresh fruit, wandering stalls, and letting your toddler explore the world in her little denim overalls and butterfly sneakers.

She held Paige’s hand as she toddled toward a booth selling homemade soaps, squealing about the ones shaped like ducks. Paige, with her signature cap pulled low and sunglasses on, nodded along like this was a very important duck decision.

You were laughing, sipping your coffee, when it happened.

“Wait… hold up.”

You turned toward the voice just as Paige froze.

Two figures stood by a booth across the path. Tall, athletic, and unmistakable even out of uniform. Dijonai Carrington and NaLyssa Smith.

“PAIGE?” Dijonai called, her eyebrows practically hitting her hairline. “Is that you?”

Paige straightened slowly, adjusting her hat like it might help her hide in plain sight. “Heyyyy... guys.”

NaLyssa squinted. “Are you holding hands with a baby?”

You tried not to laugh, especially as Paige’s eyes flicked to you with a silent help me.

“She’s a toddler, actually,” you said, stepping up and offering a warm smile. “And yes. That’s our daughter.”

Dijonai’s jaw dropped so fast you swore you heard it.

“OUR?!”

Your daughter looked up at the sound and instantly broke into a grin. “Mama!” she shouted, lifting both arms toward Paige. Paige scooped her up with practiced ease.

NaLyssa blinked. “Mama?!”

“Okay, okay,” Paige laughed, already blushing. “Let me explain.”

After the initial shock wore off—and after your daughter insisted on showing them her duck soap and a sticker she got from a face painting booth—you all decided to hang out the rest of the day.

The five of you ended up grabbing Thai food from a food stand and sprawling out at a nearby park on the grass. The energy was light, Emma chasing butterflies and occasionally tripping into Paige’s lap, then laughing like it was the best thing ever.

NaLyssa took to her like an auntie in five seconds flat, giving her piggyback rides while Dijonai tried (and failed) to braid her curly hair.

By the time the sun started dipping low, you looked at Paige and smiled. “We should invite them over.”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. They’re not gonna let this go without the full story anyway.”

That evening, with your daughter finally asleep upstairs—curled in her bed with her stuffed puppy tucked under one arm—you all lounged in your cozy living room. The lights were dimmed, music soft in the background, a couple candles flickering on the coffee table.

You poured glasses of wine, passing them around before curling up next to Paige on the couch. She stretched her arm around you, fingers gently tracing your shoulder as you sipped.

“Alright,” Dijonai said, settling into the beanbag like she owned it. “Spill. We need the entire story. Like… Paige Bueckers has a family. Who would’ve guessed?”

Paige smiled, leaning into you a little. “It’s not as dramatic as you think.”

You nudged her playfully. “Kinda is.”

NaLyssa raised her glass. “Let’s hear it.”

You glanced at Paige, who gave you the go-ahead. So you started.

“Well… we met at UConn. I wasn’t a player—I was studying sports medicine and doing photography for the women’s basketball program.”

“She had a camera in her hand every time I looked up from the court,” Paige added with a soft laugh.

“I got pregnant right around the start of my second year, basketball season was just beginning,” you said, tone quieting a little. “It was… unplanned. The baby daddy didn’t stick around.”

Dijonai’s smile dropped. “Damn. That sucks.”

You nodded. “Yeah. It was rough. But Paige… she just showed up. Not all at once. Just… little things. Bringing me food. Walking me back to my dorm when my ankles were too swollen. Sitting with me during appointments when I couldn’t reach my mom.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Paige said. “But I knew I wanted to help her. I wanted to be around.”

“And then one day, she showed up with a crib she built herself,” you continued, laughing softly. “Badly built, by the way.”

“Hey!” Paige protested. “That thing held perfectly until month six.”

NaLyssa giggled. “So when did it… become more than friendship?”

You looked at Paige, your eyes softening.

“It was slow,” you said. “But honest. I think I loved her before I realized I did. Before I even knew I was allowed to.”

“I fell first,” Paige admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I waited until she was ready. I wasn’t going to push it.”

You looked down at your wine, smiling. “And by the time our daughter was born, it was just… obvious. She was already her mama. Her name deserved to be on the birth certificate. We got married shortly after Emma was born. No doubts whatsoever.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Dijonai let out a long whistle. “So I guess the ‘Pazzi’ rumors are just rumors, huh?”

Paige burst out laughing. “Yeah. Definitely. Azzi’s actually Emma’s godmother.”

NaLyssa choked on her wine. “What?! Y’all are out here playing chess while the whole internet’s writing fanfics!”

“Yeah,” Paige smirked. “And I read some of them. Wild stuff.”

You gasped. “Paige!”

“What?” she grinned. “Some of ‘em are kinda flattering.”

Dijonai shook her head, laughing. “I love this. I can’t wait to see the look on people’s faces when they find out.”

You looked at Paige, her cheeks flushed with wine and happiness, and smiled. “We’re not rushing that. But it’s nice to finally share it with someone.”

She leaned over and kissed you softly, letting her hand drift over your thigh. “Yeah. Feels good.”

NaLyssa raised her glass again. “To chosen family. And duck soap. And a little girl with the coolest moms in Texas.”

You all clinked glasses.

And in that living room—warm with love, filled with quiet laughter and soft confessions—you realized just how full your life had become.

Not just because of what you had with Paige.

But because of everything you’d built together.

The morning started with pancakes and cartoons, as it usually did. Paige had an early shoot around, but it was her first open-practice session with the team since the season officially kicked off — and she insisted on making it a family affair.

“You sure they won’t mind?” you asked as you buttoned your daughter’s little Wings jersey, the one with Bueckers on the back and “#5” in glitter iron-on patches.

Paige gave you a look like you’d just asked if basketballs were round. “They’ll love it. Trust me — they’re already obsessed with her and they haven’t even met her yet.”

You raised a brow. “They’re gonna be obsessed with me too, right?”

Paige leaned in, kissed you softly, and murmured against your lips, “I already am.”

The College Park Center buzzed with energy when you arrived. The team was mid-practice, music bumping through the speakers, sneakers squeaking across the court. Trainers and staff bustled around, but when Paige jogged in with you and your daughter in tow, heads turned.

A few players paused their drills, doing double takes.

“Is that…?”

“Oh my god, she’s here!”

NaLyssa was the first to run over, already beaming. “Hey! My favorite tiny human!” she called, bending down with arms open.

Your daughter squealed and took off across the hardwood — all bouncing curls and flashing sneakers — throwing herself into NaLyssa’s arms.

“You see that?” Paige said proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Star player in the making.”

“You mean star recruiter,” you teased. “She’s already got the team wrapped around her finger.”

Practice paused for a bit — not because it was scheduled to, but because your daughter had singlehandedly hijacked the gym.

Maddy Siegrist taught her how to spin a ball on her finger (badly), and Teaira McCowan gave her piggyback rides down the sideline. Arike pretended to “lose” to her in a 1-on-1 dribble showdown, flopping dramatically every time your daughter drove the ball (slowly pushed it across the court while making car sounds).

Paige, watching from the bench with you tucked under her arm, just smiled like her whole world was right there on that hardwood.

When Coach Chris Koclanes walked over, hands on his hips, you tensed — but the coach just looked at Paige’s daughter, then at you, and broke into a warm grin.

“So,” he said, “this is the little MVP we’ve been hearing about?”

“She’s the real star of the family,” you replied.

Coach nodded sagely. “Well, we’ve got open tryouts in 2042.”

Later, after a water break and some light drills, the team settled into a shooting competition, and Paige brought your daughter onto the court with her.

“Alright, baby girl,” Paige said, handing her a mini basketball, “show ‘em how we do it at home.”

Your daughter squinted at the toddler-sized hoop they’d rolled out, took three steps back, and chucked the ball with everything she had.

It bounced off the rim, hit the floor, and rolled to NaLyssa’s feet.

And everyone still cheered like she just hit a buzzer-beater in the Finals.

“She’s got that dog in her!” NaLyssa yelled.

“Sign her now!” Dijonai called from the baseline.

Emma spun around, arms high in the air, and shouted, “I WIN!”

The team exploded in laughter and applause, and Paige scooped her up and spun her around.

“You always win,” she whispered, kissing her cheek. “Always.”

Practice wrapped up with team stretches, and your daughter sat in Paige’s lap, mimicking every move with a dramatic flair that had half the players in tears from laughing.

You took a few pictures — one of Paige mid-stretch with her daughter copying her pose, both of them giggling, sweat-slick and sunlit under the gym lights. Another of the whole team posing around your daughter like she was their mascot.

By the time you were heading out, your daughter’s head rested sleepily on Paige’s shoulder, a little snack in one hand and her other thumb tucked in her mouth.

“She did great,” you whispered.

“So did I,” Paige murmured back with a grin. “I was so nervous.”

You looked up at her. “About what?”

“Bringing my world together,” she said. “You, her… them. I just didn’t want it to feel weird. Or too much.”

You kissed her gently on the temple. “You didn’t bring your world together, Paige. You built one. And we’re all lucky to be part of it.”

Paige glanced down at your daughter, kissed the side of her head, then looked at you like she couldn’t believe she’d gotten this lucky.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered. “I’ve got my whole team right here.”

The next morning, you were still in pajamas, your daughter sitting in her high chair absolutely covered in oatmeal, when Paige’s phone started blowing up.

She frowned at it, brushing oatmeal off her hoodie as she picked it up. “Uh… babe?”

You looked up from your coffee. “Hmm?”

“I think… I think we just went viral.”

You raised a brow. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

Dallas Wings – Instagram (@/dallaswings) [“Golden” – Harry Styles] “The Bueckers Era has officially begun 💙💚”

The video opened with Paige walking into the practice facility holding your daughter’s hand — her tiny legs moving double-time to keep up, her jersey bouncing as she walked.

Cut to:

Paige tying her daughter’s shoes on the bench

A shot of you sitting court side with your camera in hand, smiling at them

Your daughter making a shot in the toddler hoop and doing a victory dance as the team erupts

Paige picking her up and spinning her in the air, both of them laughing

Finally, a close-up of your daughter asleep on Paige’s chest during cool-down, Paige’s hand protectively over her back

And then…

Overlay text at the end: “Family.”

The comments? Unhinged.

@/wnbastan69: wait... PAIGE IS A MOM???

@/wingsnation: WHO IS THAT WOMAN ON THE BENCH. SHE'S GORGEOUS. IS THAT HER WIFE???

@/bucketsqueen: this is not a drill. paige bueckers is a MILF. i repeat—

@/azzistan: I KNEW she wasn’t with Azzi. THE BABY IS CALLING HER MAMA.

@/uconnfan1 ok. hear me out. that woman has a tattoo of Paige’s number on her arm. go back to the February UConn Gala photos. it's her. they've been together.

The TikTok version? Hit 1.2 million views in three hours.

And your DMs? Albeit being private. Piling up with everything from “CONGRATS OMG” to “how did you pull her???” to “tell us your love story pls pls pls.”

You just turned your phone over and looked at Paige, who was feeding your daughter a blueberry while trying not to panic.

“Well,” you said, sipping your coffee. “Hard launch.”

That night, the Wings media team reached out about doing a feature for their upcoming mini docuseries, “Inside the Paint.” Paige hesitated, but you looked at her and said:

“If we’re gonna tell it… let’s tell it right.”

You, Paige, and your daughter sat side-by-side on the couch in your home, camera crew set up across from you.

“She’s my whole heart,” Paige said, glancing at Emma who was now climbing into her lap with a granola bar. “She’s not technically mine. But she is.”

You nodded. “We met at UConn. I was pregnant — alone. Paige was just… Paige. Gentle. Always there.”

The camera caught Paige’s hand finding yours.

“She helped raise her. Changed diapers. Did midnight feeds. Built cribs badly,” you teased.

“She was the first person who made me feel like I wasn’t alone in it,” you continued. “And somewhere along the way, we just… fell in love.”

“My name’s on the birth certificate,” Paige added softly. “And my last name’s on both of theirs now.”

“Mama was all she knew Paige to be.”

The crew filmed the bookshelf with framed family photos. Paige carrying your daughter on her shoulders at the beach. You three asleep on the couch in a tangle of limbs. A picture of Azzi Fudd holding your daughter at her baptism with tears in her eyes.

“She’s the godmother,” Paige confirmed, grinning. “Azzi. The real MVP.”

The episode dropped on YouTube and Instagram the following weekend. And in under 24 hours, it was the top trending topic on WNBA Twitter and TikTok.

The reactions? A mix of sobbing emojis, fan art of your little family, and people just melting over how soft Paige was the whole time.

@/bballdreams: I thought I couldn’t love Paige Bueckers more. And then she became a wife and a mom. I’m DONE.

@/fanbrushfire: [art of Paige in uniform holding your daughter’s hand, with you in the background cheering them on] “Mama Bueckers”

@/sidelineheart: Paige Bueckers being a quiet, private wife and mother and then casually dropping the most beautiful love story I’ve ever heard?? How is this real??

That night, curled up with Paige on the couch, your daughter asleep upstairs, you scrolled through the chaos while Paige played with your fingers.

“You okay with it?” she asked softly.

You nodded. “I’m glad it’s out there. You deserved to be known like this.”

She kissed your temple. “We deserved to be known.”

The Wings had just pulled off a thrilling win against the Mercury. Paige had dropped 19 with 8 assists, but the real surprise came postgame.

As the buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted, the arena lights dimmed for the usual fan-appreciation wrap-up — but then the Jumbotron lit up with something unexpected.

“Special Presentation” — the screen read, flashing between highlights of the game and a video montage.

Your daughter appeared on-screen, wearing an oversized Wings hoodie, shyly grinning.

“Hi Mama,” her tiny voice said, echoing across the arena. “I proud of you. You my favorite player ever and ever. Can I give hug now?”

The arena melted.

Paige turned, stunned, and saw you at the tunnel — holding your daughter, her eyes bright and excited.

The crowd parted like the sea as the two of you walked onto the court. Your daughter wriggled out of your arms and ran straight to Paige, who dropped to her knees to catch her.

The ovation was deafening.

Tears welled in Paige’s eyes as she kissed her daughter’s cheek, holding her tightly, forehead resting against her tiny one.

The announcer laughed through the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen… the real MVP of the night.”

@/espnW: Paige Bueckers just got surprised on court by her wife and daughter after the Wings win. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. 🥹💙

@/wnbatalk: “Can I give hug now?” I’m SOBBING. Who raised that little angel?!

@/courtsidechronicles: Paige crying while hugging her daughter, then looking at her wife like she hung the moon? Love is so real.

@/fanartfridays: [Art of the three of you walking off the court hand-in-hand, with the Wings logo glowing behind you.] “The Heart of Dallas.”

You tucked your daughter into bed, her plush Wings blanket pulled up to her chin. Paige leaned down and whispered, “You were so brave today, baby. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mama,” she mumbled, already drifting.

You walked back downstairs together, hand in hand.

On the couch, Paige wrapped her arms around you from behind, chin on your shoulder.

“I think they really know us now,” she murmured.

You tilted your head toward her. “They do.”

“And they love her,” she added, a proud smile blooming across her face.

“She’s impossible not to love,” you whispered. “Just like her mom.”

Paige kissed your cheek and pulled you closer, the glow of the moment still radiating through every room of your home.

“Thank you,” she said. “For letting me have this life.”

You turned in her arms, looked into her eyes, and smiled.

“We built this life together. And the best part? We’re just getting started.”

The WNBA season had hit its brief midseason break, and for the first time in months, the house was quiet. You were curled up on the couch flipping through a book while Paige lay on the floor with Em lying across her chest, both completely still except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Paige’s breathing.

Then Paige’s phone buzzed from the coffee table.

She carefully reached for it, glancing at the screen without disturbing the sleepy toddler snuggled into her.

Azzi: I swear to God if I don’t see my goddaughter in person soon I will riot

Paige smiled and nudged you with her foot. “Guess who’s demanding visitation rights.”

You looked up, already grinning. “Azzi?”

She showed you the screen and you snorted. “She’s obsessed. But, fair. You know we’ve been meaning to visit.”

Paige’s voice dropped to a softer tone as she looked down at the little girl sleeping peacefully on her chest. “I think it’s time we go back. Just for a few days.”

“Back to where it all started?” you asked.

Paige met your eyes, voice thick with nostalgia. “Back home.”

[dollfacefantasy]

READ MY MIND ♡

pairing: frank castle x bratty!fem!reader

summary: frank and jealousy don't mix well together... you find that out the hard way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, daddy kink, jealousy, drinking, meanie frank, brat taming, age gap (20s/40s, you know the drill)

a/n: ahh finally some more frank. reader is actually highkey dumb in this but that's ok. all my creations have a place in my heart 🫶 reblogs + comments are always appreciated <3

Frank had pissed you off a couple days ago. That was how this whole thing started.

Looking back now, you could admit it all was petty. He probably didn't deserve it, and you probably could have handled yourself better. But things like these built up. You could only nod your head and smile sweetly so many times before your well of grace ran dry.

You'd been getting ready for the day, coating your lashes in some mascara after shimmying on a black skirt. Frank lounged in your bed, one muscular arm behind his head as he attempted to rest away a rough night.

Through the mirror's reflection, you'd asked him what you thought to be a simple question. "Are you gonna be here on Friday night?"

But he answered with "Dunno. Gonna try to be."

Your glossy lips pursed together as irritation flared up inside. "Well... if you had to bet. Would you say you'll be here? Or not?" you tried again.

But still. "I don't know." This time he sounded a little annoyed himself. "Why? You got something planned?" he asked.

His tone only irked you more. Sure, maybe some would say you were overreacting, getting too upset over a tiny inconvenience, but you believed in your reasons. He'd been doing this more and more lately, and it was piling up. It wasn't so much his actual absence that bugged you — you knew he had his reasons. It was the dodged answers. Physical distance you could stomach. Emotional however? Not so much.

"No. I just like knowing where you are and what I'm gonna be doing," you said, words becoming clipped.

"You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?" he asked with a bit of sarcasm.

That earned him a harsh glare from you.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not trying to piss you off, baby, but I don't know. That's just the way it is."

Gritting your teeth, you looked yourself over one more time in the mirror before mumbling "fine."

Without further argument, you went for your bag hanging off the back of the desk chair. You slid it over your shoulder and scanned briefly to make sure you had everything you needed. After that, you planned on just walking out, maybe huffing a goodbye if he was lucky. But before you could go, he spoke again.

Objectively, he'd said: "Little cold out to wear that skirt, ain't it?"

But your disgruntled ears interpreted that as: "That skirt's a little too short to wear, ain't it?"

"I have tights on," you said and shot him another glare.

He blinked at the sharp response. His confused face worked you up further, and you were more than ready to go at that point. Though as you turned to depart, he called to you.

"You forgettin' something?"

A rigid wave of frustration flowed through you, but you still turned around. You knew what he was referring to, of course. All but petulantly stomping back to the edge of the mattress, you made your way to him and then leaned down to press a sticky kiss to his cheek.

"Bye," you said with a faint, involuntary pout.

He reached up, cupping your jaw and squishing your cheeks like he did every time he watched you leave.

"Be safe," he said. His version of I love you.

You nodded like you always did, giving him one more peck before pulling back and actually heading out the door. While the kiss may have given the impression that your attitude had been handled, one thought echoed through your mind as you walked down your complex's stairwell.

If he thinks this is short, I'll show him short.

Over the course of the next few days, Frank never gave you any word on whether or not he'd be at the apartment on Friday night. The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off.

You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?

You clenched your jaw every time that replayed through your mind.

He had some nerve. You basically lived at his beck and call. All your time together was based around his schedule. How you acted around him depended on his mood. Everything was him him him.

So tonight was gonna be about you. Well... also him. But he wouldn't come till later.

As the sun began to set outside, you proceeded with your plan. You shedded the old t-shirt and sweats you had on, fetching something more eye-catching from your closet. A skimpy little black dress. Your hands ran over the material and smoothed it out over your curves. Some shiny heels came next and then a fresh application of darker makeup. You made sure your hair was just how he liked it too.

It was in the middle of adding the final touches to your look that you heard the front door open and then close. Your heart skipped a beat. So he had ended up coming home... you hadn't planned on seeing him till you came back tonight.

A few seconds later he walked into the bedroom. He looked tired like he did a lot of the time. For a split second, you almost felt guilty about the petty show you were putting on. It crossed your mind that you could wipe the makeup off and swap your dress out for some pjs. You could get what you actually wanted all along and spend the night by his side.

But that would require a degree of humility you didn’t possess today. You’d committed to this idea, and now you were gonna stick with it.

He registered what you had on as soon as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He went to take his boots off, but his muscles stopped all movements when he looked at you.

You could practically feel his pupils raking over your body. The warm simmer that came with his attention tingled across every inch of your skin. You played it cool though, acted natural as you grabbed your coat and shrugged it on.

“Where are you goin’?” he asked.

“Out,” you replied, picking up the nice bag you reserved for actual plans rather than errands or routines.

“Mind telling me where ‘out’ is?” he said.

“I don’t know. Just a couple different bars with my friends.”

He raised his brows. “You are going out to some bars?” he asked.

You scoffed and folded your arms across your chest. His face appeared neutral, but you were an expert in Frank-isms by now. You knew he was mocking you. It was rare for you to go out purely for socialization. He’d tease you about that regularly, saying you acted older than him by staying in all the time and going to bed early.

While normally you'd get all cute about his teasing, it frustrated you right now. You didn't want him finding humor in this when you were trying to teach a lesson.

“Yes,” you huffed. “I didn’t think you’d care since you didn’t even know if you were gonna be here tonight.”

And now his expression shifted to one of irritation as well. The passive aggressive reminder clued him into the fact that this wasn’t spontaneous. It wasn’t you trying something new for the hell of it or to get out of your comfort zone. No. You were mad at him, and instead of talking that through, you were gonna pitch a fit about it.

“I always care about where you’re going. But I don’t got a problem with it,” he said.

“Good,” you shrugged.

He sighed, his gaze lingering on your face. “Do you have a problem? Is something wrong?” he asked, clearly trying to give you the chance to end this whole thing right here.

But you didn’t take it. Instead you shook your head. “No. Why?”

“Cause you got an attitude. That’s why,” he said back.

“I don’t have an attitude,” you defended.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you said. You knew you were walking a thin line. Frank was not a fan of bratty behavior to put it lightly.

He gave you another once over but ultimately decided to let it slide. "If you say so."

For once, you chose to quit while ahead and not say anything. You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror before turning to him.

"I'll see you when I get home," you said.

He nodded. And even though he wasn't pleased with your little act, he didn't want you leaving on a bad note. He forced down the irritation and pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"You call me if you need anything, yeah?" he said.

You nodded. "Yeah," you said quietly.

Regret was seeping in a little more. You'd have to get out of here quick, or you'd be kicking off your heels and hopping back into bed in no time.

You turned for the door, waving bye briefly before hightailing it out the main entry way and into the hall.

It was almost two a.m. the next time you heard Frank's voice.

You tapped his contact with a shaky thumb as you staggered your way to the exit of the club. Even pressed to your ear, you could barely hear the ringing over the music blaring all around. You pushed past people with your free arm and squeezed through the gaps between groups of guys with bad haircuts.

Once you made it outside, you took a deep breath. Finally, fresh air that didn't smell like cheap body spray or sweat. Out here, you could actually hear clearly when the phone stopped ringing.

"Hello?" his voice crackled from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Frankie," you said back, maybe a little too happily. You weren't drunk, but you weren't exactly sober either. "Could you maybe come pick me up if you're not doing anything? I was supposed to go home with my friend, but she doesn't wanna leave, and I could uber but-"

"I'll come get you," he cut off your tangent. You heard some shuffling in the background as he presumably got up. "Where are you?"

You paused, peering over your shoulder to the neon sign on the front of the nightclub. "Blackout."

Then there was a pause from him. "I thought you were just going to a few bars," he said.

"It wasn't my idea," you defended. "We were supposed to go to a couple bars, but you know how she is, I told you she never-"

"Alright, don't worry about it," he grumbled. "I'll be there in fifteen."

"Mkay, I'll be out front," you said. "Byeee."

You clicked the red circle on your phone's screen before he could say anything else.

For a moment, you pondered whether you should wait out here or go back inside. This area of town wasn't the best, but the interior of the club didn't feel much better. You sighed and leaned back against the wall. Your phone captured your attention for a few minutes, but when boredom started to set in, you just looked around, observing your company on this strip of sidewalk.

It was then that your eyes landed on a man nearby. He was watching you. That caught your attention.

His hair was dark brown, slicked back. He was around your age and had on an expensive coat with his hands jammed in the pockets. You could feel the weight of his stare shifting up and down your body. And it gave you an idea.

Under normal circumstances and sobriety, you probably would have looked away instantly. Maybe even been a little creeped out. But having gone out tonight with the feeling of neglect as your shadow, you felt a little more interested in the attention.

So you bit your lip and cocked your head, beckoning him over without ever waving your hand.

He played right along with you. Without a word, he slipped away from his group in line and walked over to where you stood.

As he got closer, you could see him with more detail, and he became a person not just a distant figure. Guilt started to well up in you, but you tried drowning it out. You didn't actually want this guy. You just wanted Frank to see him talking to you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?" he asked.

"Waiting for my ride," you answered, smiling but not too much.

He hummed and nodded. "Leaving already? That's a shame."

"Mhm, I got work in the morning," you lied.

"Oh yeah? Where do you work?"

"I can't tell you that. You're a stranger," you replied with a little added giggle.

He huffed out a laugh. You noticed how his eyes simultaneously trailed along your exposed collarbone.

"Pretty and smart," he teased. "I think I'd be making a huge mistake if I let you go without even asking for your number."

"You didn't even ask for my name yet," you said with a grin.

"Well then, what's your name?" he said, voice lowering slightly.

Before you could get the syllables out, a deep voice answered for you.

"Get in the car."

Your head snapped in the direction of the street to find Frank's car before you and him standing next to the driver's side. You hadn't even noticed him pull up, the sounds of the wheels had melded together with all the others on this street.

The moment you saw his face you regretted this whole idea. Not even just entertaining that guy, but everything, this whole night. If only you could turn back time and just force yourself to tell Frank you were upset.

But you couldn't, so you nervously shuffled towards the passenger door, not even daring to look back at your other suitor.

You got inside and slumped down in your seat. Only seconds later Frank's door slammed shut too. He didn't say a word either, not to you or that other guy.

Your eyes were glued to your thighs as he put the car back in drive and pulled away from the curb. You sat there, body rigid as you waited for him to tear into you. It would be coming any moment now you were sure of it.

But minutes passed. The car made several turns. Lights went from green to red. And not a sound.

He didn't yell, didn't lecture, didn't ask any questions. It was starting to really freak you out inside. Part of you was scared he'd pull up in front of the apartment, dump you out of the car, and then drive out of your life forever.

You dared to look over at him and just saw his eyes straight ahead, his hands clasped tight on the wheel. It was unnerving. Never did you imagine you'd be wishing for Frank to blow up on you, but this silence was unbearable.

Not wanting to start anything while he was driving, you waited till you were down the street from the apartment complex before speaking.

"Frank... I'm really sorry," you said quietly.

He didn't respond, and a long pause stretched from your last word to the moment he put his car in park. The engine went quiet as the lights on the dash faded away. Golden hues from the street lamps outside were the only thing illuminating the two of you.

"Are you now?" he said, and you could tell he was still pissed.

"I really am. I swear, I wasn't with that guy at the club or anything like that. He just came up to me while I was waiting for you, and I didn't wanna blow him off just in case and-"

"You weren't looking too eager to blow him off when I pulled up," he cut you off.

The car stayed silent because you didn't have a response for that. You bit your lip, giving the best set of puppy eyes you could manage. It was all for nothing though because he still wouldn't look at you. This was what you wanted wasn't it? Him jealous? So why did it feel so bad?

It was only after this period of quiet that he turned to look at you. His eyes were dark and stormy. You nearly cowered from a brief glimpse alone.

"Did you think you were being cute tonight?" he asked. "Getting all dressed up, being snippy with me, trying to make me jealous."

"I wasn't-"

"Did you think I'd find that cute?" he said, tone hard as ever.

You bowed your head instead of persisting with denial.

"No..."

"Good 'cause you should know better. I don't have time for shit like that. You wanna play games, you go find yourself a little boy who's willing to put up with 'em."

You just nodded, not having the courage to even verbally respond. It didn't matter to him though. He kept going regardless.

"I'm not gonna tell you this again. Don't think you can pull shit like that with me. I got better things to do, and I'm not gonna spend my time worrying about if you're out letting some other man put his hands on you."

Again, you nodded. The heat of humiliation crept up your neck and into your cheeks.

"When you're with me, you're with me. Got it?"

"Got it," you repeated, so quiet it was barely audible. Your eyes had started to sting a little bit, but you swallowed hard to keep your emotions down.

He went quiet again, and the tension nearly killed you. You weren't sure if he was gonna send you up to the apartment all alone or go with you just to lay in bed without speaking. But luckily, he did neither of those things. Instead he patted his thigh a couple times and looked over at you.

"Come here," he said, his voice low but no longer tense.

Your head popped up a little. "What?" you asked, making sure you heard right.

"Come here," he said again, this time with more command.

You didn't need to be told a third time.

He reached down between his legs to slide the seat back slightly while you climbed over the center console. One of your legs awkwardly swung over his thighs, and the other knocked into the seatbelt receptacle. You still made it work though.

His right hand came to cup your jaw, to force you to make eye contact. With a closer look, he saw your watery eyes.

"Don't give me that. You got yourself into this," he said.

Before you could blink again, he brought you in closer and put a rough kiss on your pout. Your palms landed on his chest. The strong beat of his heart pounded against one.

Soon, his grip fell from your jaw down to your waist. His fingers dug into each of your hips as he tugged your lower body flush against his abdomen.

You gasped at the sudden drag of your center on his lap. Frustration rolled off of him with every movement. His hands found the hem of your sleek little black dress and hiked it up over your hips.

The quick exposure startled you. Pulling back a little, you looked around outside to see if anyone was nearby to see through the windows. His truck wasn't tinted, and even under the cover of night, any wandering eyes would have no trouble seeing what the two of you were up to.

"What're you looking for, baby? Thought you wanted other people to see you in your pretty little outfit," he said as he guided you close again.

His lips latched onto your neck, drawing another gasp from you. Your sensitive skin fell victim to his teeth. He nipped at you before gliding his tongue over the area. You recognized it as an attempt to leave a mark. That sent a little thrill for you. He could act like a hardass all he wanted, but he still got jealous like anyone else.

"I'm just making sure no one's watching..." you said.

“Why? You feelin’ shy now?” he teased.

You just shook your head. Your hands rubbed up and down his biceps onto his shoulders and then up to his neck.

“Just don’t wanna get in trouble,” you said as you nuzzled him.

“The only one you gotta worry about getting in trouble with is me,” he said with a light smack on your ass.

You whined, but the words were enough to clear the possibility of getting a ticket or worse from your mind.

His hand mimicked your own. It slid to the back of your neck. Only he grabbed the skin tight, gave you a little tug to make you look in his eyes.

You let out a soft whimper. His stare was so intense, it was almost enough to bring those tears from your eyes once and for all. You squirmed on his lap without even thinking about it. In bed, there was so much space for evasion. You could roll over, hide your face in the pillows or blankets, even just look at the ceiling or the wall. But in the car, like this, there was just Frank.

His thumb swept back and forth on your chin before he relented and connected his mouth with yours once again.

“You’re too fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Even when you’ve been a pain in my ass, I let you get away with it.”

“Cause you know I didn’t mean it, daddy,” you whispered.

That brought a groan out from somewhere deep in his chest.

He tilted his head back against the seat. “Don’t give me that.”

Your hands rubbed up and down his chest. You rocked your hips on him too to go with them. As he gave you more lenience, you felt more comfortable fighting back a little. It was more fun to play along when you knew you weren’t on the verge of a breakup.

“I never wanted you to be mad at me. Just wanted your attention.”

You rolled your hips harder in a wider circle. Between your thighs, you could feel the start of his bulge. It was only half-hard right now, but with a little time, you knew you’d have him ready to go.

“You saying I don’t give you enough attention? That why you act up?” he said. His hands returned to your waist, gripping and massaging the skin of your torso.

“It’s never enough for me cause I want all your attention, all the time. Every single second. Just wanna be with you.”

"I swear you're gonna send me to an early grave,” he said.

You smiled a little, and your hands fell between your two bodies. They went for his fly, but he grabbed one of your wrists and kept you from getting to it.

Immediately, you looked to him with a fresh pout. But he just clicked his tongue at you.

“You think you deserve my dick after tonight?” he asked.

You huffed. “It’s not gonna feel as good for you if you don’t lemme take it out.”

That put a bit of a smile on his face too. “Oh, it’s all for me? Who knew my girl was so selfless?” he mocked.

You nodded proudly, now able to slip free of his grasp and flick open his button. From there, you yanked the zipper down and shimmied around the layers of fabric to get at what you really wanted.

His cock stuck out for you, nearly fully hard by now. With a couple more tugs of your hand, it filled out the rest of the way. You watched it, almost mesmerized. It was warm and flushed, oozing precum for you.

“If you took me inside first, I coulda sucked it for you,” you pouted, looking between him and his cock.

“We’re not gonna be out here all night. I’m sure you’ll still have some making up to do later,” he said simply.

He corralled you against his chest, boosting you enough to pull your panties aside and situate you over his length. This wasn’t gonna be on your terms, you could already tell. He reached down between the two of you, wrapping his thick calloused fingers around himself atop your own hand. With both of you guiding the shaft, you angled it at your entrance and then slid down on it.

“Fuck,” you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He hummed, an agreement of sorts. His hand rubbed up and down your back before he began rocking his hips up into you.

“If this is what you needed, you should’ve just asked,” he said into your ears. “No reason for you to throw a tantrum. You know I always take care of you.”

The rasp of his voice was enough to make you shudder. You gripped onto him a little tighter and started to aide his thrusts, bouncing up and down with what leverage you had in this position.

“Didn’t wanna ask. Wanted you to do it,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? I’ve spoiled you so much you expect me to read your mind now?”

All you could do was whine at that. You knew what you meant, and it wasn’t so petulant. There was just no other way you could articulate it at present.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, digging your fingers into the muscles there. “Shut up,” you choked out. You threw your head back as you began to bounce faster.

He gave you a harsh smack on the ass, much harder than before. This time it left a lingering sting.

“Watch your attitude. You’re not off the hook yet.”

You just kept riding him. Up and down, up and down. You were sure the car was rocking by now. Creaking and shaking under that dingy streetlamp. That didn’t matter to you. At this point, you didn’t care if someone saw. You wouldn’t care if a crowd stopped to watch. Not when you felt this good. Not when you were so close.

“Daddy, fuck, can I please cum? Pretty please?” you asked.

“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked for the second time tonight.

His hand slipped down and rubbed at your clit. The rough skin of his fingertips on your little velvet bud got you to squeal. Your hips bucked on instinct, nearly knocking your knee into the door.

“Um… Uh…” you stammered, trying to act hesitant. If you seemed remorseful, he might be more inclined to reward you. That was your thought process anyways.

“Simple question, sweetheart.” His fingers didn’t stop swirling on your bundle of nerves.

“Yeah! I do! Cause I’m really really really sorry, and I love you so so so fucking much. And you’re the only one who can make me cum like this. Can’t even think of anyone else when you make me cum,” you said, practically babbling.

Had your head been upright and your vision focused on him, you could have seen the fondness for you in his expression. But your head was still back facing the ceiling, and your eyes were still drooping with ecstasy, so you missed that and just heard him say “alright. I guess you deserve it.”

You let out a moan loud enough to pierce the interior of the car. Your head popped back up now to lay a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered before you felt the first wave of release.

That hot coil of pleasure inside you snapped. You whined and rode your way through it. Nothing could stop you from moving. You kept going and going, quivering thighs and all.

He spilled himself inside you as well somewhere during your high. You felt it vaguely, but the sensation was pretty muted compared to everything else going on.

You finally slowed down and then came to a stop when you were reaching the end of your descent. Once you’d fully come down, you slumped against his chest, your own breaths coming out ragged.

He squeezed you close without a word, planted a quiet kiss on your head.

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

You nuzzled his chest once more, saying sorry without words. It was enough for Frank though.

He slid himself out of you and fixed your clothes. You lazily made sure everything was in place before he popped open the car door and helped you out.

Your legs felt wobbly as they held you up on the asphalt, but you managed to stay upright till he was out too. His hand landed on your ass, giving it a pat. You happily tucked yourself to his side before the both of you began walking towards the apartment building.

[kkoga]

Unseen set up lara raj x fem!reader

From this ask!

Warning ! Foul words

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portrayal of themselves.

Now playing ! What do you mean by Justin Bieber

WC — 1.77K

Synopsis ! It was a normal day, getting ready for your stream, practicing before playing a match. It was all very normal. Until Lara walks in— and fails to notice you were live.

You flash your million dollar smile at the camera next to your computer, confidently waving your hands at it.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m a bit late, shit gets real when you sleep at 2 am. Anyway, I’ll be playing some Valorant today, so let’s get warmed up before we start!”

You watched as hundreds of different comments flashed by each second, squinting your eyes as you tried your best to read them. You were eternally thankful for the five second delay you decided to put on a couple weeks ago.

its fine girl js hop on get ur ahh back to ascendant!!!

LOL did u stay up late reading fanfics or smth

guys what if shes actually batman and had to save us all….

“Pfft— guys I’m not fucking batman. And yeah yeah I’ll get my ass back to ascendant don’t you worry… It was js Harry dragging me down by having me carry his six and fifteen KDA.” You mumble the last part, rolling your eyes sarcastically. Your chat was going crazy, calling you out for being late in a joking manner.

“Okay guys you’re all frying me for being late, I get it! Gosh let me live ya’ll. I’m gonna start the warmup okay?”

You confidently spent the next four minutes in the practice range, getting headshots left and right as time passed. You then looked to your bottom left, reading your chat as you continued to shoot.

get on the game u little baka,,,,,

GET OUT OF THE DAMN RANGE OMG WE GET IT UR GOOD STOP SMIRKING YOU FOOL

sigh why she smirking like shes abt to ask for my number….?

You groaned at the comments. Your fans, the “hidits” they called themselves. Apparently, they took it from an early stream of yours when you screamed “ITHIDITSELF?! IT CAN HIDE ITSELF?! IT’S A FUCKING ROBOT AI MONSTER WHATEVER MABOB FUCK YOU MEAN IT CAN STUDY ME AND JUST DISAPPEAR BASED ON MY BEHAVIOUR?!?”

Your early fans found it funny and called themselves “hidits”. In your opinion, it is the most horrendous fandom name you have ever heard, but your fans said fuck you and kept it as their official name (they also found it ugly—but the idiots kept it just to spite you). It has been like that ever since.

“Okay fine I’m getting out the range you goddamn hidits—still don’t like your name by the way—and no I’m playing alone this time. Don’t need another Harry on my fucking back.”

You could imagine Harry quoting the clip later, asking why he deserved such hate, calling you a dirty fat hater. You knew the stupid guy too well, it would honestly surprise you if he didn’t.

As you wait for the match to start, you hear your door swing open. You furrow your eyebrows as you gently take your headset off and face your door. 

There stood, in all her glory, Lara Raj. As in the Lara Raj from KATSEYE— the same Lara who you just realized, could be seen by your camera. Lara—looking down onto her phone and paying no attention to you or your set up—speaks before you could warn her about you two being live, to thousands of people.

“Baby?” It was over.

“Sorry are you gaming right now? Just wanted to ask if you wanted to watch a movie. This new netflix one came out and—” Lara’s eyes widened as she saw your camera all set up, as you sat there with a shocked face and an open mouth.

 Oh you both fucked up.

LARA JUST CALLED YN BABY AM I FUCKING HALLUCINATING?!?!

IS THIS FUCKING REAL NO WAY

OHHH YN BAGGED A BADDIE IM SO PROUD

LARA AND YN??? MY TWO FAV THINGS TOGETHER!!!

OH THIS IS MONUMENTAL FOR US HIDITS AND YN HERSELF

Before you could think of some crazy stupid cover-up, Lara sighs as she walks closer to you. You looked around the room, confused as to why she was moving closer.

The Indian grabs your cheeks, and forces you to face the camera. You stared as the chat started moving even faster— if that was even possible. Was the five second delay not enough? But to be fair, with a moment like this, you kind of expected all your fans— including the eyekons, to start tuning in.

“See this?” You sat still, confused, but still let her do her thing anyway. You just hoped she knew what she was doing.

see what?? 

whuts goin on guyz…

whats abt to happen im scared 

Lara then made you face her, as she pampered your face with kisses—kisses everywhere except your lips. After a whole minute of this shenanigans, Lara stops and faces the camera once more— leaving dozens of lipstick marks on your face.

“Yeah, that’s mine.” Lara says, emphasizing on the word “mine”. Your jaw dropped, mouth wide open, unaware on how to react. Usually you’d pounce on her the moment she pounced on you but you couldn’t exactly do that with— wait, A HUNDRED THOUSAND PEOPLE WATCHING?!

Your fans went feral, your viewer count rising by the millisecond. You froze, not knowing what to do. You just prayed you weren’t as red as you felt. This was embarrassing enough as is, you didn’t need hundreds of people making a meme out of you.

OMG SHES FUCKING BLUSHING THEY R SO COUPKLE GOALS

JHASGDASDGHAHSD DONT PLAYYY THIS WAS SO RANDOM BUT SO…. NEEDED?!?!?!

COUPLE OF THE YEAR U GUYS

oh to have a woman like lara….

i came here for valorant not to feel SINGLE you guys.

“I u—uhm.. Are you… sure?” You dumbfoundedly stared at your girlfriend as she let out a chuckle.

“Well I wouldn’t do that if I wasn’t now would I? Anyway, be done by 5pm. We’re watching a movie.”

And with that—Lara quickly left the room, leaving you with the aftermath.

EXPLAIN YN LN

HEY HEY HEY U LITTLE BAKA WHAT DOES THIS MEAN BRUH

u looked fucking stupid lol blushing like an idiot as a baddie pampers you with kisses

oh she bottoms alright…

maybe valorant was the friends we made along the way

really bro? freezing like that infront of the huzz?? u disappoint me….

do you guys have room for a third….

 You quickly snapped out of your little love daze, remembering you had to take control of the situation.

“Alright guys, let’s chill out okay? And yes we’re… dating.” You fucking hated yourself. You were telling about two hundred thousand people about how you and Lara were dating, blushing like a goddamn kid in the process.

You thought about it for a moment, and decided maybe you didn’t have to stream today.

“Okay, I know I just got on but… duty calls…?” Your chat was then split into two different categories—those who agreed and the rage baiters who told you to stay.

CMON GIRL NOT A SINGLE GAME IN SIGHT??? 

DUTY CALLS LET THE GIRL GO

its js a movie girl play like one game and hop off

she CANNOT fumble this guys dont do her like ts

GIRL JS FUCKING GO DO A DAMN STREAM NEXT TIME U GOT A BADDIE WAITING FOR U

You giggled,

“Guys c’mon, you want me to keep the girl waiting?”

YES

NUH UH IM NOT WITH THESE LOSERS GO GET YO GIRL

IF UR GOING THEN PLS POST SOME PICS

U HAVENT STREAMED SINCE LAST WEEK AND UR A FUCKING STREAMER MAN DONT BREAK MY HEART LIKE TS

You entertained them for a few more minutes before you decided it was time to hop off. You didn’t like to keep Lara waiting, and you knew she wasn’t usually the patient type.

“Alright guys, seriously, I need to go okay? I promise I’ll stream soon.” You made a cross sign on your heart as you continued,

“Cross my heart, okay?” Your chat began to say goodbye, as you closed your camera. You sighed as you shut everything off— tidying up your setup even though you haven’t even played yet.

I mean c’mon, it was either you play games alone on stream or you spend quality time with your girlfriend.  It was practically a no brainer.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to fix your appearance before going. After successfully assessing yourself, you carefully made your way to the living room.

The faint hum of your fan could be heard a few feet away, as random tiktok audios played on what you assumed to be Lara’s phone. The sound grew louder as you inched towards her— until she was finally visible.

Lara was on the couch—giggling to a tiktok—looking like she fell from heaven. 

Her hair was loose, looking like they were exclusively styled to fall that way. And her bare face? God she looked so damn cute. Or hot— you couldn’t exactly distinguish between the two right now. 

You snuck next to her, sliding your arm across her waist.

“Hi baby.” Lara leaned her body towards you, a gentle loving smile on her face. You instinctively snuggled into each other, the feeling so natural.

So familiar.

“Hi.”

You breathed into her perfume— strawberries with a hint of mint. The smell you could recognize from anywhere. You personally disliked the scent of strawberries, but you grew to love it. Strawberries reminded you of Lara— they were as sweet as her words. As sweet as her actions. And the hint of mint that always lingered around you two came from your air freshener. 

It reminded you of home. It reminded you of her— it reminded you of who your home was.

“So… you just decided to go public huh?” You say as casually as you can, opening up with a soft tone. A soft giggle left her lips,

“Yeah, I mean why not? We got caught anyway, might as well own up to it.” 

“Yeah….you’re right. I was just caught off guard.” The hesitation in your voice made Lara waver, worry now spread across her face.

“Did it bother you? I’m so sorry baby I didn’t think you’d mind—” 

“Hey hey it’s okay, don’t worry. I don’t care I was genuinely just caught off guard okay? Don’t apologize. Although I would’ve appreciated a heads up, I’m not exactly bothered. Just…. Embarrassed you had me geeking in front of my fans.” The slight shift in tone lightened the mood, as Lara responded with a kiss to your cheek.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I have nothing to be ashamed of, no reason to hide. I would never be ashamed of you, okay?” Lara sighs, as relief floods her senses. 

“I love you.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“Love you too.”

[aftersunsz]

ME AND MY HUSBAND (QUINN HUGHES)

summary: while doing press for your new movie, you call quinn your husband despite not being married.

warnings: y/n mentioned :/

an: thank you for all the support on my sidney crosby fic!! also this is a completely random movie that i came up with so yeah lol

“Is that a Sofia Coppola pin?” You pointed to the lanyard the woman, Lucy, who was going to interview you and your co-star, Ralph Fiennes, had around her neck.

“Yes! She’s my favorite director.” Lucy mentioned before the interview started.

“Mine is Spike Jonze. . .” You said quietly as Lucy gasped dramatically. “But I love Sofia as well. My husband and I watched ‘Lost In Translation’ two weeks ago and then we started ‘The Virgin Suicides’ but I believe we got halfway before he fell asleep.”

It came out of your mouth so naturally. Ralph knew whenever you said ‘my husband’ you weren’t actually talking about your husband, but rather your boyfriend of many years. Quinn had met Ralph on your first day of filming and teased that he wanted to see a ring on your finger as soon as possible, as if he was your dad.

Lucy heard you mention your husband, but didn’t want to push you to talk about your ‘marriage’. She was here to talk about your new movie.

But some people took the video clip and started their own theories.

‘Did quinn and y/n break up?’

‘She moved on too quickly if they did break up’

‘NOOOO MY WIFE IS MARRIED TO A MAN’

‘So when the fuck did they get married?😭’

It didn’t take long for you or Quinn to hear about the internet’s theories about your relationship. You found some of the comments funny.

“Listen to this one . . You’re telling me quinn and y/n got married and not one photo was leaked by either of his brothers?” You laughed as you showed Quinn the tweet on your phone.

“That would be such a Luke move.” Quinn chuckled.

“You think Luke would leak our wedding on social media? That screams Jack!” You reply.

“No, it’s definitely Luke.” He corrected.

“Babe, I love you but you’re so wrong. Jack would do it.”

“Jack would do what?”

Quinn and you turned towards the new voice, which was Jack, Luke right behind him with a bag of snacks.

“You would leak our wedding pictures on social media.” You say casually as you get up from the couch and walk towards the kitchen of the lake house to get a water bottle.

“Me? That sounds like Lukey boy over here.” Jack poked Luke’s side as he walked into the kitchen as well.

“That’s what I said!” Quinn yelled from the couch.

“Well you’re both wrong because it wouldn’t be me, it would be Jack.” Luke corrected. He then started passing out snacks to you and his brothers. You gave a quick ‘thank you’ to Luke when he gave you your favorite chips.

“Wait, why are we talking about wedding stuff? Are you two actually married and forgot to invite us?” Jack wondered, hopping on top of the kitchen counter.

“No, we were just looking at tweets. Ever since I said my husband, the internet thinks we actually got married,” You explain. “Which people who are still dating do all the time!”

“Yeah except you two are like the internet’s favorite couple. You’re like princess diana and her husband.” Luke spoke.

“Her husband? You mean Prince Charles?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his choice of words.

“Yeah that guy.”

“You do know he cheated on Diana, right? And when he was asked if him and Diana were in love, he said ‘whatever in love means’, and—”

“Okay! So I chose the wrong guy to compare Quinn to, sorry!” Luke held his hand up in defense. “But my point still stands, you’re princess Diana so obviously it’s going to be a big deal if you keep saying my husband when you talk about Quinn.”

“Firstly, thank you for calling me the people’s princess, Lukey, that was really kind of you,” You smiled. “Secondly, I’m practicing for when I’m actually married. Quinn isn’t getting rid of me that easily.” You said as you walked back to the couch.

“If I ever say ‘let’s break up’ that isn’t me.” Quinn grabbed you by your waist and placed you on his lap.

“Disgusting,” Jack started to gag loudly as Quinn layed you down properly on the couch. “Oh come on! People sit there!” He had enough of the scene that was going on in front of him so he and Luke exited the kitchen quickly.

“Maybe we should get married, you know, finally make you my wife. I did promise you in chemistry class that i was going to marry you. Remember?” Quinn flipped you over so now you were on top of him, laying your head on his chest.

“Yeah. You even promised we would have red velvet cake even though you think it’s just chocolate cake dyed red.” Red velvet cake is your favorite. While Quinn thinks it’s just chocolate cake in disguise, teenage Quinn promised red velvet at your wedding.

“And our cake will be red velvet.” Quinn kissed the top of your head.

“I’m so excited for our day.” It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in Quinn’s arms. Thankfully you didn’t feel the small box in Quinn’s pocket.

[lovelake]

His accessories are always calling your attention, practically begging for some TLC (request is from this lovely nonnie <3)

solivan brugmansia x fem!reader | 800+ wc, fluff, suggestive towards the end but nothing explicit, kissing

note: possible mistake on the piercing count for him? some pictures of him have different amounts of piercings so feel free to correct me, i can always change the numbers !! title is from ‘ever (foreign flag)’ by team sleep

masterlist read on ao3

“One, two, three, four…”

The numbers faded into a murmur as you continued counting the amount of piercings he had. Your thumb brushed against his ear, coming across different shapes and sizes of jewelry. To say you were fascinated was an understatement, his fashion was part of the reason you were so attracted to him.

You were sitting criss cross applesauce across from him on your bed, having put his hair into a low ponytail just a few minutes ago. Lot of strands from the upper layer still managed to fall out, but they didn’t really get in your way, they simply framed the new light of your life.

“Eight on your ears.” You eventually concluded proudly, missing the lovesick look Sol was giving you. 

Your gaze was now drawn to his pretty lips. They used to be chapped before you became his girlfriend. Now, they were soft. Kissable. Plush. Enticing, like a pillow inviting yours against them.

He used to get so flustered when he caught you staring at his lips that he would bring a hand up to cover his face, giving you a couple of shy peeks before he calmed down. Seems he was getting more and more used to your affection now.

You gently tapped each steel ring. “Nine, ten.”

Maybe you were a little too excited, you were practically gushing. “They’re so cool! Do you sleep with them all on?”

“I–“ 

“Where’d you get them done?”

“Well–“

“Which one hurt the most?”

Your stream of questions came out all in one go, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. The rare sound and the feeling of his body shaking under yours snapped you out of it.

“Sorry, too much?” You didn’t mean your apology, obviously.

“No, it’s fine,” he said between quiet laughter, giving your cheek a pinch. “You’re so cute…”

He called you that a lot. And beautiful. And gorgeous. And pretty. And lovely. And stunning. But the term he always came back to at the end of the day was ‘cute.’ You’d have to watch out for that cuteness aggression of his, it could strike at any time.

“Sooo?” With raised brows, you prompted him to answer. 

He wasn’t much of a talker, but it came easily when he was with you. With everyone else, he usually only gave a five word response maximum. You’re special. 

“I take them off before sleeping unless I forget, one time I woke up without a couple of them and I…learned my lesson. I did two of the ear ones myself, and got everything else at a piercer in the mall. My second lip piercing hurt the most ‘cause I got it right after the first.”

One of these days, you’d suggest getting matching jewelry. It could be anything. A necklace, earrings…knowing him, he’d like it. 

“They look good on you.” You tell him. So good that sometimes you stayed up late at night wondering how his lip piercings would feel traveling all over your skin. 

“In that case, maybe I should get more. Any suggestions?”

“I think an eyebrow piercing would really suit you. But I dunno, it might get caught in your hair since you usually have it down.”

“I can clip it back while it heals.” 

Smiling, you place a hand on his shoulder so you could lean in real close. You started with his ears, placing a kiss over every single one of his piercings. You swore you felt him shiver, his hand reached for the back of your head. So his ears were sensitive, noted.

Then, his lips. Yours met his twice, just something sweet. You whispered your explanation against them. “Ten kisses for ten piercings. Fitting, right?”

“Yeah…” He sounded dazed. Now who was the cute one?

You couldn’t just stop there. You coyly reached for his choker. “I also like this.”

His cheeks were already red, but this time, he seemed more vulnerable than usual. He wasn’t going to be ready to take it off in front of you anytime soon, if ever, so he was glad you didn’t find it weird. “You do?”

“Mhm, it brings a lot of attention to your neck.”

Goosebumps found a home on his skin, his breathing grew heavier as you continued toying with it. 

You had way too much power over him, he had to find a way to balance the scales. “You…You didn’t finish counting my piercings.”

Now that piqued your curiosity. “What do you mean?”

He took both your hands and placed them atop his chest. One palm felt his heartbeat, the other didn’t. You simply blinked until you explored a little and registered the hardness you felt.

“Oh…” Your stomach did a flip. And suddenly, the temperature in your room matched that of a sauna.

“Yup.” He was full on grinning now, glad he got you speechless for once, though his blush hadn’t died down one bit. “Wanna see them, pumpkin?”

[wcters]

10 MINUTES OF ARTHUR AND Y/N BEING CUTE (AND SOMETIMES HORNY)

pairing: arthurtv x fem!reader

word count: 3k+

summary: a compilation of cute (and sometimes horny) moments between you and arthur

warnings/contents: swearing, sexual innuendos, mentions of sexual acts (let me know if there is more)

author’s note: this is based in the beginning of 2025 to fit with the timeline, i love arthurtv

You never expected to find a video like you did on a random Saturday. You were curled up on your couch in your shared apartment with Arthur, shorts and one of his hoodies on. He was out filming with Isaac, George, Chris, and the other Arthur so you were stuck being bored. You could've gone out, but you were feeling lazy and it was raining so it was one of those days where you felt off.

You were trying to find a video watch. You had been scrolling for what felt like forever (it was only ten minutes) because no video you saw had yet to peak your interest. Along with it being one of those days, it was also one of the days where you couldn't keep yourself entertained. You had ━━ so far ━━ had a bath and did your skincare, you did your makeup for fun . . . then took it off, you made yourself a full meal for lunch, you tried reading, but this was your last resort. You weren't expecting this video to end your scrolling.

10 minutes of ArthurTV and Y/n being cute was its title. The thumbnail was a collage of photos of you and Arthur taken from both your instagrams and some from videos. It was cute and you thought of taking a screenshot and sending it to Arthur, but you didn't because you didn't want to interrupt him (he can get lost scrolling in social situations) and that the lads would chew him out.

The video was only posted recently, which made sense. You only publicized your relationship half a year ago and started appearing in videos a couple months ago. Even then, ten minutes is a lot for you appearing online recently. A lot of the clips were probably from Chris's ChrisMD but shorter channel as he posted unseen footage and small clips on there. He had a habit of sneaking some filming in without you noticing, the little bastard. Either way, you respect the dedication of the person.

You cuddled into the couch a little more and clicked on the video, the intro being played. It was cute, from a channel who didn't have a lot of subscribers but had a cute editing style. You made a mental note to look at their profile either after this or sometime later.

The first clip was one of your first appearances online and in a video. You had travelled with Arthur, Isaac, and George to the Clarkson's Farm. Because Arthur was mostly filming everyone else, you hadn't been in the view of the camera at all. At least you didn't think you did. You didn't mind being filmed, you knew he was filming and was fine with it. You just kept to yourself so the boys could do their thing.

It was around thirteen minutes into the video when the boys were hanging out at the room, or house ━━ whatever you would call it ━━ you were staying in with Arthur. They had been hanging out on the couch watching the TV. Arthur had flipped the camera to show the water that had spilt on Isaac when you were seen in the background. You were dressed in some basketball shorts and one of your boyfriend's hoodies.

If people weren't regular watchers of Arthur they would knit notice, but you had on one of his favourite hoodies that he always wears, his plain blue hoodie. He wore it for a lot of videos and was featured in a lot of thumbnails. You were seen walking in and out of the bathroom before looking at the situation taking place and laughing. When your boyfriend turned the camera around to look outside, you were heard saying do you want a towel? to Isaac.

The clip was replayed a few times to make sure your voice was heard and then it was explained that you were wearing Arthur's clothes. It wasn't one of the really cute clips, but you found it cute that the person who made the video noticed it and put it in.

Another clip was from a more recent video, the Europe pub golf video on Chris's channel. You had been invited to Germany with Arthur and you gladly agreed. You knew the main thing they were going there to do was film a video but you wouldn't pass up a free trip to Munich.

You had joined them for the day even though you were told by Arthur and Chris that you didn't have to. You wanted to drink some alcohol in a slower pace than they did, watch them get absolutely wasted and embarrass themselves, and walk around the city . . . Arthur also got very clingy when he was drunk and it would be easier to get him to film if you were there.

The clip was of you and Arthur in the background while they were making their way to another pub. You were seen holding hands, your faces very close. You were probably whispering about something or other. Arthur was animatedly talking with his free hand doing gestures. Watching the clip, you don't quite remember what he was talking about. He was already tipsy and was rambling about something that you didn't understand. You tried to listen, but it was hard when you didn't know what he was talking about. Cons of having an incredibly smart boyfriend.

After that was another clip from the same video. Well, unseen footage from that video. It was from a compilation from Chris's clips channel of Arthur being absolutely wasted. It was at the seventh hole when Arthur was just about ready to throw up. You were surprised he had made it that far without actually throwing up. The image was from the GoPro from the quality it was being displayed on. The other boys were talking as you sat beside your boyfriend, his head not looking up at you.

You put a hand on his thigh to grab his attention. You could tell he was zoning out and that meant he was getting to the point where he might pass out. You leaned towards him, "you okay baby?" He took a second before replying. "Mhm, I'm fine." He then looked up at you and leaned his head on your shoulder. Your other hand went to rub the back of his neck. "Are you sure? You're spacing out."

". . . I am pretty drunk."

"That you are. You going to be able to make it to the end of the video?"

"Yeah, just want you next to me."

It was Chris's voice that broke you out of your conversation. "Oh, he's clingy now!" You stared at him while Arthur had his eyes closed, his head still rested on you. "Mate, if you need a cuddle just ask one of them. They'd be glad to." And it was true, they would. You had witnessed the boys cuddling multiple times and have such a picture in (you say for laughs but it's actually for blackmail).

Throughout the video were shots of you when you appeared in gaming videos with Arthur and Isaac, sometimes just Arthur. You were a big fan of the horror genre, growing up watching scary movies with your dad and watching movies that he watched when he was a kid. Those were times where you could really connect with your dad. You also became a fan of horror games as well, playing games at your friend's house when you could.

It was well known that the boys (mostly Isaac) were absolute cowards when it came to anything horror, and so if, sorry when, they got too scared, they would call for you and you'd appear.

"Baby!" Arthur would call while Isaac would just scream your name ridiculously loud. You'd eventually appear in the doorway, arms crossed. You acted like you were annoyed but they knew you weren't. Arthur would have an awkward smile on his face as he said, "help us?" Isaac would reply with "He means him. I never got scared," which was obviously a lie because you heard him scream the loudest. You'd sigh, "fine," na snake your way over. You personally thought you looked horrendous with your hazardly-put-together outfit and your hair not fully brushed when you appeared on screen but apparently people really liked this look.

The first time they asked you, you were just planning to stand and play until Arthur pulled you into his lap. You were a bit flustered and shy because you weren't used to this much PDA in front of the camera, but you didn't mind. That part caused everyone to go crazy in the comments, but it was also how nonchalant he was about it.

Arthur had a stutter. Usually it wasn't too bad, only happening a few times before he got it out. But sometimes they'd be really bad and mess up his sentence. As funny as that was, because it was hilarious, sometimes you'd help him out with words if he needed it. You usually just let him figure it out on his own, but you would step in and try to get him on the right track.

There had been a couple clips put in of you helping him out. You would either be beside him and quietly say a word to help him or tell him from off camera. He'd finish his sentence and almost every time, without fail, he'd either wink or give you a look that said thank you. You had no idea the viewers had even caught this, but this person had and included almost every single clip they could find of it.

You had appeared on the Bach and Arthur podcast as one of their guests. One people found out Arthur had a girlfriend, and then you came out public with your relationship, people were begging you to come on. You always got a bit of an ego boost when looking at the comments under their videos. When Arthur finally asked you, you were a bit surprised it took him that long. You knew it would take awhile to actually plan it, but even then it was still quite a long time.

You remember you were in bed together one night, your head on his bare chest with your hands intertwined when you asked him. "Why did it take you so long to ask me?" You couldn't see his face, but from his reply you could tell it was one of confusion. "Ask you what?"

"To come on the podcast."

There was silence for a while. You made a noise. "What?"

He mumbled. Despite how close you were to his mouth, you couldn't hear him. "Arthur, what?"

"I was . . . Jealous. Well, that's not quite the right word but I wasn't ready to have you fully in a video."

You smiled and moved to look up at him, "jealous?" He rolled his eyes, "don't go taking that out of context. I just meant that I like keeping meaningful and important things to me private. You're one of those things, and I wasn't quite ready to have you not as private . . . Y'know?"

You could tell he was feeling a bit awkward admitting it. You two didn't have trouble with talking about your feelings but he his brain had tricked him into thinking you would make fun of him (even though he knew you would never). You smiled, "I know. You're important to me to, you know?"

"I know."

A couple weeks later you were sitting in the room where they filmed the podcast. You were a bit nervous. It's not like you didn't want to do it, that was the opposite, but you hadn't done anything like this before. You know they'd do a lot of the talking and take breaks when you needed to, but still.

Arthur would've rather sat beside you )no offence to his boyfriend), but he wanted to make sure you were okay. Because he couldn't be with you, he decided to give you his sweater. You tried to tell him you didn't need it but he refused to accept no as an answer. You didn't know this until he sent it to you, but Isaac had caught this before and camera. That video hasn't seen the internet but you still have it.

The clip that was featured wasn't one of you actually talking, but one of Arthur talking. He had gone into one of his scientific rants again and you were just staring at him. You were glad he felt comfortable enough in front of Isaac that he wasn't afraid to be "nerdy" or annoying when he would rant and would just go for it.

You personally loved when your boyfriend ranted. You didn't know how people couldn't. You could listen to him for hours, it didn't matter if it was information you knew or didn't know. One habit you noticed he picked up when talking to you is he would explain what different things mean if he knew or wasn't sure if you knew what that meant. This helped with your understanding but again it didn't matter.

The clip was of you listening to Arthur talk. Isaac would reply here and there, but you were silent. You were seen seated in the white chair while you stared at your boyfriend, a look in your eyes. The look screamed love, and this was definitely noticeable to viewers as it was mentioned in the comments. You were leaning closer to Arthur ━━ out of interest and because it was just natural to you ━━ and so mesmerized by him. You were listening so intently. It wasn't one of those looks or acts that people play when they are pretending to listen, no, you were genuinely interested in what he had to say.

You were a little confused on why it was included. To you, that was the bare minimum. Lots of things are bare minimum in your relationship: getting flowers, date nights, splitting the chores and rent (as much as Arthur hated the last one). Either way, you thought it was cute.

As well as being on the podcast, Arthur would mention you in passing. A lot of the time it would be "y/n sent me this" or "y/n" showed me that" but there was one where it wasn't really in passing. He asked you if you were comfortable with it being kept in and you didn't mind.

"Is there something about you physically that you don't control, that you wish you could?" Arthur had asked Isaac.

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I can't say it."

"Is it squirting again?" Arthur laughed. "Amy said breathing . . . I actually asked Y/n this question last night while we were in bed-" Isaac raised his eyebrow and Arthur laughed, "not like that. Anyway, I had asked Y/n and she said she would control physical reactions to things . . . Like not gagging when you smell something bad or jumping when you get scared." "That's quite cool actually." Isaac has replied. "Yeah, she's really good at coming up with answers for questions like that."

After a while you started to have more of a social media presence and went live for the first time. It was on TikTok and you didn't expect that many people to join ━━ only about 100-200 people at most ━━ but eventually you were sat in one of Arthur's shirts doing your makeup with over 400 people watching. You got a bit nervous because you had never been on social media a lot, but people were nice and you decided to keep it going.

You would do livestreams once a week, either doing makeup on live or cleaning. You would update whoever was watching about your life and answer questions. You built up a fan base for yourself and people would show up every week. Sometimes you'd livestream special things like you hanging out at the podcast set or give some information on things coming up, nothing too important.

Some photos and videos of you and Arthur from your friends instagrams and people who saw you put together were sprinkled in there was well. Some were of you and Arthur dancing together in a club and others were you and him holding hands.

One special one was a video that Isaac took when you convinced Arthur to dance with you. You had been sitting on the couch in their podcast set while they took a break when Taylor Swift's False God started to play. It only took a couple times of saying please before he agreed and got up with you (he had a really hard time saying no to you). Isaac had stayed to film when your boyfriend agreed, and got the infamous video of you and Arthur dancing.

After Isaac posted it to his story, it was used in a lot of boyfriend material TikTok's. Arthur was boyfriend material. You knew no other guy who would willingly dance to Taylor Swift with you in a room full of people.

There were some pictures scattered in the video where you were caught thirsting over your boyfriend . . . But who wouldn't? You were seen liking and favouring almost any edits of Arthur you came across. You also commented some . . . Not appropriate things on the hot edits. Sometimes you forgot you had a public account and that your boyfriend was famous.

When you were first commented and liked, you didn't think anything of it, but after awhile people started mentioning you in the comments of videos saying things like "y/n, babe, this is for you" and "i know you kicking your feet right now." You were in fact blushing and kicking your feet when you saw the edits. You got a daily supply of your boyfriend, but there's no harm in a little more.

You'd often leave some of your things with Arthur. A lot of the time you had no pockets on your pants and forget (didn't want to) lug a purse around with you. Your solution? Make Arthur carry it. Well, that sounds cruel but he didn't mind. It would be small things like chapstick or lipgloss in his back pocket or a hair tie on his wrist. Usually you remembered to get it back from him, but one time you failed to do that.

Arthur was filming a soccer video with Chris and some friends when a hair tie was seen on his wrist. He had taken off his sweater midway through the video and forgot the thing on his wrist. It wasn't that big of a deal ━━ people already knew you were dating.

You remember when you were asked about it on live, you joked that Chris was so small he would sometimes use it as a belt. Arthur and George thought it was hilarious, Chris just stared at you before shrugging, "it was good, I admit it."

When Arthur got home, you showed him the video. Safe to say you both loved it, and would definitely remember it in the future.

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝖄ES, SUGAR ♱ ℳ.𝓢.

✵ ❪ 𝒚𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐 ❫ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ms x f!r, katseye 7th member!au, fluff ── disclaimers: jealousy, ya’ll know the drill atp we three chapters deep (read in dark mode!) enjoy xx

ℭatalogue, pt one, two

MEGAN NOT PLAYING AROUND ABT Y/N (PER USUAL)

21.2k likes | 433k views | 19th Mar, 2025

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip one: [ TIKTOK + WEVERSE LIVE ] n/nlarz live

“Here in Katseye, we believe in starting strong. No beating around the bush, no stupid sub plot-lines, and definitely no bullshit when it comes to making our fans happy, because that is our number one priority. We make music to make you guys happy, and in turn, that makes us happy. You crazy kids always find a way to entertain us, so we do our part to entertain you.”

user01 omg this hoe is really tokyo drifting circles around the elephant in the room right now

user02 or team really said let’s get our very own shakespeare

user03 not eyekonville successfully cyber bullying y/n into addressing the tiktok yall this fandom is not real

“Oh my God, you’re stalling the hell out of this right now,” Lara snorted, head resting against her fist. The two of you sat at Lara’s desk, the violet LEDs on in the room with the older’s rnb playlist playing softly through her speakers.

You clasped your flushing cheeks into your hands, groaning. “Well, I’m not exactly excited to talk about this!”

Lara scoffed, raising an eyebrow and eyeing the live, as if sharing a knowing look with the fans watching the both of you at home. “You guys really thought you could put something like that out and not spark hellfire in Eyekonville?”

“It was so long ago! I didn’t think it would blow up like that.”

Two years ago, you posted a tiktok on your personal tiktok account of a challenge you and Megan did during your Dream Academy days. It was before the group was formed, and you were kindly instructed to remove it after your debut, but some fan who’s been following you since your predebut days seemed to have reposted it on twitter. The tweet gathered a total of 53M views and 1.2M likes from both eyekons and those unfamiliar to your music. Now fans shamelessly bombarded you with questions about it any chance they got.

The tiktok in question was the two of you doing the lipstick trend to the song “Appcalypse” by Cigarettes After Sex.

You appeared onscreen first, putting on some red lipgloss before the phone panned to black-haired Megan, staring at you, the camera going unnoticed by her dreamy eyes as she stared at you with a gentle smile. Every visible inch of skin littered with a variety of smudged or clear red lipstick marks.

[ holy fucking shit i did six backflips when i saw the tiktok ]

user04 they fr hard launched during da and forgot abt it

user05 deadass i always knew megn/n wasn’t just a figment of my imagination they been sus since da

user06 guys she’s abt to hard launch again act surprised

“You posted it during mission two?” Lara stared at her phone, definitely watching the video once again online. She shook her head, “Damn, I forgot ya’ll were rooming together.”

“Okay, before any of ya’ll put on your tinfoil hats and make up conspiracy theories about this, it was just a trend. Nothing more. We spent a lot of time together during training and we did a lot of challenges like that one, okay?” you stammered, clearing your throat. You thanked all the Gods the room was coloured so the fans couldn’t see your flushed cheeks. “Megan and I are friends—and now roommates, but that’s it.”

user07 oh yeah cuz i do couple trends w my friends too

user09 so this convinced a total of negative a trillion people

user08 i think doechii wrote a song about you honey

Lara giggled at the comments clocking your lies, glancing at your disapproving gaze as she fell back into her swivel chair. You sighed, shaking your head. “Guys, I swear on my mom, it is not what you think! We were just doing a tiktok trend!”

[ y/n baby you’re talented at a lot of things… just not lying ]

“Yeah, guys, come on, she’s being so for real right now…” Lara added in a monotonous tone of mockery. “You wouldn’t want everyone’s favourite Katz to get in trouble now, would you?”

“I do that with all the other girls too—How about this, if I promise to post this video of Sophia and I doing a couple’s yoga trend that was all over tiktok like two months ago, will you guys believe me?” You desperately sought to keep things tame, not wanting unnecessary trouble with your management team. Though, all press is good press, and the 63k people watching you try and make a bad case against dating rumours with your fellow bandmate would attest to that.

user09 kissing all over is different from doing poses tgt

user10 honey we saw the marks leading down meimei’s neck into her shirt you did not have to do allat for a casual trend

user11 i’d never let my bsf kiss me like that even for a trend

[ the look megan gave her though?? how is that platonic??? ]

“That’s the best answer you’re gonna get from my girl,” Lara chuckled, winking at the camera, “If y’all really wanna know what’s up that bad… guess you’ll have to stick with us.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip two: [ TWITCH ] d4vd x katseye streamathon

“No, have you seen this girl’s roblox avatar? She got that drip. She’s a certified gamer!” Daniela nodded, pursing her lips and giving D4vd an ‘mhm’ as his jaw dropped.

Serves him right for doubting your gaming skills. Silly D4vd.

You held your hands up as he let out an ‘ooh’, crossing your arms. “What can I say… I’m always on that bloxburg grind.”

Lara rolled her eyes playfully, “I’ll say, this bitch will stay in her room and never come out if she didn’t legally sign a contract. y/n and Megan are the most loser-coded, discord server npcs I have ever met. Like all they need is each other and their ipads.”

“Hey, why am I catching strays right now!” Megan whined.

You chuckled, a hand lifting to stroke the small of her back. She readjusted her beanie, leaning forward with a pout. She read the chat’s amused comments on Lara’s words, glancing back at you. “Are you just gonna take that?”

You shrugged, “To be fair, we are pretty addicted, Mei.”

[ it’s giving gentle husky x orange cat duo and im here for it ]

“Yeah, I know y/n’s the boss at dress to impress, we should get her on this.” Daniela moved away from the centre of the frame to make space for you. You slipped between her and the desk, grabbing the ipad from Lara. Daniela’s hands slipped up to grip your hips, locking you in place as she continued to banter.

Sat to the side just a little bit behind Daniela, Megan couldn’t help but eye the both of you every couple seconds.

The chat pointed out how she was doing her signature “laugh then lock in” bit, but in a more “show jealousy then remember she needs to lock in” way. Her eyes would linger on the two of you, on Daniela’s hands caressing your waist, a little too long with her eyebrows slowly furrowing and her smile fading. Then she would remember she was on camera.

user01 ooh somebody’s lookin a little jealousssssss

user02 megan forgot she needs to stay employed for a second

user03 bro’s fr getting war flashbacks rn

user04 what a good day to be a dann/n defender ;)

“Somebody asked if Daniela and y/n are bread and peanut butter, ‘cuz Megan is exactly the jelly they need right now,” D4vd read aloud, eliciting laughter from everybody in the room but a stunned Megan. She sometimes forget Twitch was an American platform and they were allowed to say more things they weren’t allowed on Korean ones like Weverse. But even you seemed to be going along with the teasing. D4vd sighed, “Oh my God, that’s gold, you guys have the best fan base.”

“Oh, Mei, I’m sorry for hogging the ipad. Here, you and I are both experts, if we work together, we should be able to beat these hoes at their own game.” you scorched over, peeling yourself from Daniela’s greedy fingers to make room for Megan. The redhead slid in, indirectly pushing the blonde out towards the edge of the frame, finding herself behind you.

[ y/n is so cute and oblivious oml but she loves megan sm ]

She internally cooed at your blissful ignorance, melting at you doing your best to include her. She’ll take what she could get, her mood immediately lightening up upon taking Daniela’s spot behind you, looping her fingers into the belt hoops of your baggy jeans. You two fell into your own little world, choosing outfits on the game as the others gave you input.

user05 megn/n pda i repeat MEGN/N PDA

user06 girl ain’t nobody looking at the stupid game screen rn

user07 they’re really making the most of the american rules

user08 ah yes there’s my daily megn/n fix

“So are we gonna say anything, or…?” Lara mouthed towards Daniela. She sat to your left, leaning back to gesture at the blonde so the two of you wouldn’t see. Sucked in your own world, on the virtual runway, you and Megan were too entrapped with the game and your fans to notice.

Daniela gave D4vd a look, who didn’t really know what to say. He was pretty entertained by the two of you’s intimate stance.

The blonde eventually shook her head, waving a hand. The three of them moved on to play the game with you two too. Slowly, you moved to sit on Megan’s lap, her arms around your hips and her head over your shoulder.

[ god i’ve never felt more single in my sad and lonely life ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip three: [ TIKTOK LIVE ] @meretmanon

“I think the plan is. we wake up at 6:30, we get downstairs at 7, get a coffee and maybe a pastry for breakfast, then get in the van and head for the hotel we’re getting ready at.” Manon was gathering her makeup, listing your schedule. She had decided to go live, having nothing to do as she does her makeup to ready for the seven of you heading to Sophia’s family home.

Everybody was gathered in Daniela and Manon’s room, waiting for their eldest member to finish getting ready.

The tiktok live went viral on tiktok after it ended for a couple moments in the background. This was during a time when the company was trying their hardest to manage the group’s image after some threads on twitter with the tag “#megn/n” had gotten out of hand with some unwanted attention.

You were clearly perched in the right bed behind Manon, Sophia, Lara and Yoonchae spread on the other. You rested against the headboard, entranced by the phone in your hand as the other three watched TV.

“Oh my God, don’t even talk about the early morning tomorrow, I’m absolutely dreading it.” Daniela groaned, emerging from the bathroom to stand behind Manon, gazing down at the comments flooding the chat. She caught sight of you sitting in the background, eyeing Megan, who, unknowingly appeared on camera, sauntered her way around the bed to lean over you. The blonde quickly moved to stand in the way of the view, blocking the ordeal from the live.

user01 i saw that. I SAW THAT.

user02 WAS MEGAN LEANING DOWN FOR A KISS WTF

user03 nah they trained daniela to be on it fr

user04 this is some pazzi shit all over again (pls get the ref)

user05 hold me down cuz im abt to go feral

Manon and Daniela shared a look, but neither of them dared to address the compelling topic of discussion amongst the fans.

Later on in the livestream, Daniela eventually moved off to take a call from her parents. Scurrying off, she left Manon in front of the phone, sitting on the floor in between the end of both beds. Lara was laying over the edge of the left one, talking about how excited they were to see the Laforteza’s.

Megan’s feet poked from the right side, hanging off the side of the bed. She suddenly propped herself up, laying on you, who moved just into frame as you laid on the pillow.

Knowing the group had been briefed about keeping the whole megn/n thing under tabs, Sophia nudged Manon, who then moved so her body would cover the two of you once again.

user06 show it to me please SEND IT TO ME RACHEL

user07 oml the gate keeping im foaming at the mouth

user08 so where are all the megn/n deniers now huh??

user09 nah yall can’t cover that up we saw that kiss jn

[ no cuz why were they working so hard to cover things up that live, it’s so funny cuz sophia and the girls were fighting for their lives but megn/n did not gaf like at all ]

When somebody would say things about y/n having a girlfriend or Megan having a boyfriend, Lara would very unsubtly make a face; most of the time it would be a smirk with a raised eyebrow at how ridiculous the comment was.

“y/n, somebody said they want to take you to breakfast,” Manon read aloud, not bothering to even look at your reaction.

A small, mumbled, “better not” from Megan could be heard once the fans enhanced the audio.

[ y/n definitely keeps this girl in check… ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip four: [ WEVERSE LIVE ] solo mei for the win ;)

“I wish I could read, I’m dyslexic,” Megan cackled, setting her makeup bag down. “I love audio books though, if you guys have any recommendations, I’d love to try them out.”

A knock sounded, Megan’s head snapped towards the door. “Somebody just knocked… hello?”

The door creaked open, and you popped in. “Baby, you forgot to grab your id this morning—!” The way Megan’s eyes widened, you knew you had fucked up on some level. It was only then did you notice the phone and ring light in front of her, and the extremely cautious “oh shit” look on her face.

user01 “BABY”??????????????? HELLO??????????????????

user02 IM FUCKING OVULATING DONT DO THIS TO ME

user03 oh nah oh nah i’m folding hard asf rn

user04 EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP ITS HAPPENING

user05 that has to be y/n l/n i recognize that voice

You thanked God you were still out of frame, setting the id down on the table and gesturing for you having to leave. She doesn’t react or address the situation, clearing her throat. “Anyway, I love audio books. I’m actually better at math than english, so if you guys need help with homework, I’m here.”

user06 nooooo bring y/n back we’ve missed her :(

user07 not megan acting like we didn’t just catch them

user08 WHY ARE YOU ALL SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS???

[ love how they just never talked about this after but i just know they got their ass beat by their pr team ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip five: [ COSMOPOLITAN ] Katseye Q&A

“y/n, you’ve been known to have a more impulsive tendency, and you’ve mentioned before you love getting impromptu tattoos. What’s the most recent tattoo you’ve gotten, and why did you choose to get it?” The interviewer questioned, the shot quickly cut to the seven of you. In the back row, sat Sophia, Yoonchae, you and Lara, in the front, Daniela, Manon and Megan. Six pairs of eyes turned to you.

“Oh, I, uh—” Caught off guard by the sudden spotlight burning you in place, you shifted, chuckling awkwardly. When you blanked, you began internally panicking.

You hated talking about your tattoos. It made you nervous because you’ve gotten a lot of criticism for it in the media.

“Actually, y/n and I got tattoos together. We wanted to get something that symbolized Katseye’s debut, so she got a (your charm), and I got a dual cherry on the inside of our left ring fingers.” Megan flashed the tattoo towards the camera, the editors zoomed in really quick.

You played along, showing yours as well.

“Oh, wow, that’s really cute!” The interviewer chuckled, “So will this be a ‘all seven of you’ kinda tattoo, or will this stay just the two of you for now?”

Lara groaned, “Oh, girl, trust I will be tatted the hell up in the future. I will be getting my key sooner or later.”

As the conversation shifted, you could feel Megan’s hand slide behind Manon’s to give your thigh an encouraging squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it eased your nerves. You glanced at her, and she shot you a quick wink. It drove megn/n truthers up the fucking wall. Your hashtag trending on Eyekonville.

The interview continued, but in that moment, fans knew, even if it wasn’t plastered on billboards preaching about it, the little relationship, whatever it may be, between you two was sacred.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ❪ 𝖈alliope 𝖘peaks! ❫ 。 writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet… anyway BREAKIN DISHES PART 4 COMING SOON TO THEATRES NEAR YOU!! keep sending in suggestions and ideas i dont reply to all of them but i read them all! i love you all, happy reading! xx

@sillymommy6969 ©

[writteninessence]

Backstage Pass pt. 3 idols!Hyunjin x Felix x Chan x manager!reader

Chan stepped back, and you remained frozen.

“I won’t kiss you until you ask me to,” he said, voice rough. “But I’ll be here. When you’re ready.”

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, 18+ NSFW, black!reader implied, though not directly stated, fem-aligned, polyamorous dynamics, established emotional tension, unresolved romantic tension, smut, jealousy/possessiveness, light power dynamics, rough kissing, multiple partners kissing reader, partial nudity, lap sitting, breast play, oral teasing, no penetration (yet), but heavy heated buildup, I am indeed an unreliable narrator, emotional vulnerability, reader doesn't choose-she wants them all, probably a couple that I missed Word Count: 3.5k+ Tags: @chasinghxran @aria-again @skyearby @jinniesgirl @imagine-all-the-imagines Enjoy <3 Series

Two and a half weeks.

That’s how long it had been since their confessions.

Two and a half weeks since they stood across from you in that tiny conference room, stripped bare of their pride and saying words they hadn’t dared to say until everything was too messy to hide.

‘We want you.’

‘All of us.’

‘We don’t want you to choose.’

And they’d meant it; you could see it in their eyes, feel it in your chest.

That was the problem.

You were still pretending you could do your job like none of it had happened.

That first week was brutal.

Every meeting, every rehearsal, every van ride was wrapped in a thick, electric silence—not tense like before, but still heavy, almost intimate, like a secret none of you knew what to do with.

They didn’t push, not with their words, because their bodies spoke loud enough.

It wasn’t flirting, not really. Every interaction was edged in something warm, something soft. Every glance held for just a second longer than it should have, and every touch lingered like they didn’t want to be the first to let go.

And you… You were a mess beneath the surface.

Because now you couldn’t unsee it.

The way Felix looked at you like you hung the moon, or the way Hyunjin’s eyes flicked to your mouth every time you talked. The way Chan… didn’t say anything at all, but moved like he’d always belonged near you.

You found the earrings after a long, hellish day of shoot delays and weather drama.

Gold, dainty, sun-shaped.

They were sitting in a black velvet box on your desk with no note, no name.

But you didn’t need one.

Felix had been beside you that day in Tokyo, so many months ago. You’d paused in front of a street vendor, admiring those same earrings, and said something offhand like “Those are cute.”

That was it.

You hadn’t even realized he was listening.

You found him curled on the studio couch the next morning, hoodie over his head, laptop open in his lap. When you stood in front of him, he didn’t even pretend not to notice you.

“They reminded me of you,” he said, voice soft, like saying it any louder might scare you off. “You don’t have to wear them.”

You did wear them.

Not that day, but three days later, when your hair was pulled up and the earrings were the last thing you clipped on before heading out the door.

And you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his smile lingered when he saw them.

Hyunjin gave you pure chaos.

It was a random Tuesday, and you were juggling two calls, three schedules, and a makeup artist who insisted on using the wrong foundation shade on everyone.

You were already on the verge of snapping when he appeared beside you, arm outstretched.

In his hand was a tall iced coffee, oat milk, and honey — your exact order.

You looked at him, one brow raised. “And what’s this for?”

He didn’t meet your eyes.

“It was on the way,” he muttered.

Liar.

There was no way that drink was just on the way unless he’d sprinted across the street between call times. But you took it anyway, sipped it, and let the sweetness sit heavy on your tongue while he watched you with that unreadable expression.

Your whispered thanks went unanswered, but you saw the way the corner of his mouth tilted upwards before he walked away.

Chan didn’t give you anything.

No notes. No little surprises.

What he gave was worse.

He gave you space.

He didn’t crowd you, didn’t flirt. He didn’t steal lingering touches like the others did. He just watched the way you moved. Noticed when you were overwhelmed and kept Hyunjin from pushing too far. He pulled Felix back when his emotions started spilling into his actions.

You were the manager, but he was managing you in ways you couldn’t admit.

And that made you feel seen in a way that wrecked you.

Chan let you have your little two-week break before approaching you. 

It was after a performance—small venue, high energy, adrenaline still buzzing through the air. The others had gone to clean up, but you stayed, checking on mic packs and final counts.

He’d stayed too, because of course he did.

You tried to act like it was normal. Just another post-show wind-down.

But you felt him behind you. His heat, his presence.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just… existed there. Close enough to feel but not touch.

Then—“You alright?”

You nodded. “Tired.” Busied yourself wrapping up some wires before responding, “You?”

“Yeah.” A pause, then, “No.”

You turned, already finding his eyes locked on yours.

“I hate this,” he said.

“Hate what?”

“This waiting, pretending. Walking around like I didn’t say what I said.”

Your mouth opened. Then closed. And opened again.

“Chan—”

“I know you’re scared,” he said quietly. “So I’ve been patient, I’ll keep being patient.”

“But it’s messing with your head? Mine too,” you admitted.

He stepped closer.

“I think about you all the time.”

The air snapped taut between you.

“And not just in the ways you’re afraid of,” he added, voice like gravel and silk. “I think about what it means to hold you when you’re tired, or to make sure you eat. To be someone you trust, not just someone you want.”

Your throat burned.

His hand lifted—slow, deliberate—fingers ghosting over your jaw. You should’ve stopped him.

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

You could feel his breath now.

Your noses brushed.

If you leaned in—

Someone called your name down the hall.

The spell broke.

Chan stepped back, and you remained frozen.

“I won’t kiss you until you ask me to,” he said, voice rough. “But I’ll be here. When you’re ready.”

And then he walked away.

And you just stood there.

Still wanting.

Still waiting.

Still unraveling.

And then you slipped. You hadn’t meant to, not really, but another week had passed since your almost kiss with Chan, and your walls were beginning to crumble. You couldn’t pretend anymore.

Couldn’t pretend you weren’t unaffected, or untouched.

You were already in too deep.

But you didn’t confess, didn’t chase them down, and fall into their arms.

You just started letting yourself… show it.

Little things.

Moments that slipped out when you weren’t watching yourself.

Felix noticed first.

It was subtle, very intentional.

You were in the van—he was rambling about a late-night snack he’d made with some weird combo of honey, cheese, and bread. It sounded awful. He was so proud of it.

He was mid-laugh, voice bubbling, when you reached over without thinking, plucked a crumb from the corner of his mouth, and brushed your thumb across his lip.

He froze.

Eyes wide, voice faded.

Your fingers hovered just a second too long.

And then you pulled back like it was nothing.

“Crumb,” you said, voice neutral, like your skin wasn’t still buzzing from the contact.

He blinked slowly, his entire expression shifting—open, reverent, a little wrecked.

And when you looked out the window, you could feel him watching you.

The whole ride home.

Hyunjin wasn’t as easy to throw off.

He flirted too naturally, too often.

But that day, he was painting in the lounge, headphones on, smudges of soft pink across his fingertips. You passed behind him, reading off updates from the new photo schedule.

When he looked up at you, a smear of paint on his cheek, you didn’t stop yourself.

You licked your thumb and leaned in, gently swiping the mark from his skin.

He held completely still.

Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

You wiped it away, eyes focused on his mouth, just briefly. 

“There,” you murmured. “Pretty again.”

His mouth parted, but no words came.

You walked off without waiting for a response, heart hammering, palms tingling.

Behind you, his breath hitched audibly.

And you knew exactly what you’d done.

Chan was last.

And with him, you didn’t touch.

You didn’t have to.

It was a rehearsal day, full of stress. One of the choreographers was riding him too hard, pushing for corrections mid-routine. You were across the room, watching him grit his teeth, jaw flexing, patience fraying.

He caught your eye, just for a second.

And this time, you didn’t look away.

You held it.

Steady and calm..

Your expression didn’t say I’m your manager.

It said I see you. I want you to breathe. I want you to come to me when you don’t know where else to turn.

You didn’t smile, didn’t speak.

You just gave him that look.

And something in him shifted.

His posture straightened, his movements snapping back into control, like your gaze alone had steadied him.

Later, when he passed you in the hallway, you let your fingers trail along the hem of his sleeve as he walked by.

Barely a brush.

But he stopped walking for a full two seconds before continuing.

You didn’t look back.

That night, you were barely in your hotel room five minutes before the knock came.

Hard and quick. Urgent almost.

You opened the door to find Hyunjin, hoodie on, jaw tight, breath shallow like he’d sprinted from the elevator.

“You trying to kill me?” he asked without preamble, eyes burning.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“That thing you did earlier,” he snapped. “The paint. The ‘pretty again.’ You think I’m gonna sleep tonight after that?”

You opened your mouth to respond when the door swung open again, Chan this time.

His shoulders were tense, his eyes sharp. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly calm.

“You two already started?” he said, stepping inside. “Great, let’s all talk then.”

Your stomach dropped. “What the hell is going on—”

And then Felix burst in behind them.

He didn’t speak.

Just slammed the door shut behind him, chest rising fast, curls a mess, lips parted like he was trying to catch up to his own heartbeat.

Hyunjin turned to you. “I want to know what that touch meant.”

Chan folded his arms. “I want to know why you looked at me like you could see through my soul.”

Felix’s voice cracked when he finally spoke.

“I want to know if you’re playing with us.”

Your hands went up. “Hold on. You’re all barging in here like you’re not the ones who confessed your feelings and turned my whole life upside down—”

“You touched my face like I was yours,” Hyunjin cut in. 

“You looked at me like I was your anchor,” Chan growled. “I’ve been holding back, and you know it.”

“I’m losing it,” Felix whispered, and his voice made the room stop.

All three of you turned to him.

His gaze was locked on you.

Flickering.

Pained.

“I can’t keep doing this. Pretending I’m okay with crumbs. I’m not.”

“Felix—”

He crossed the space between you in two strides.

Lifted his hands.

Placed them gently, but firmly, on either side of your face—his palms warm, trembling, framing you like you were the most fragile thing in the world.

His forehead touched yours first.

He didn’t speak.

He just breathed.

And then—he whispered it.

“Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because you were already falling forward, already chasing the heat of his mouth before he even moved.

And when his lips met yours, everything else disappeared.

There was no hotel room.

No Chan, no Hyunjin.

Just the crush of Felix’s kiss, soft and aching, his mouth moving like he was memorizing you, like he’d been waiting for this moment since the second he met you.

He pulled back slowly.

Eyes glassy, breath shaky.

“…You didn’t stop me,” he whispered.

You looked at him.

Then at Hyunjin.

Then at Chan.

And said, voice low, and shaking:

“…I didn’t want to.”

You didn’t breathe.

None of you did.

Felix’s kiss still lingered on your lips, and the weight of your confession—“I didn’t want to”—hung in the room like smoke after fire.

Three boys stood before you.

One had kissed you.

The other two?

Staring, shocked.

And then—

Hyunjin scoffed, a low and dangerous sound, almost amused.

“Oh…” he said, stepping forward, voice dark with something unhinged. “We’re stealing kisses now?”

Your heart slammed against your chest.

“Hyunjin—”

He was already in front of you, hand in your shirt, fist clenched around the fabric near your collar like he didn’t trust himself to be gentle.

He yanked you forward.

Your chests collided.

And then he kissed you.

Hard.

Hot.

Mouth crashing into yours with none of Felix’s softness—all hunger, all sharp edges and frustration and ‘God, I’ve wanted this for too long.’

He didn’t give you time to gasp.

Didn’t let you think.

Just took.

His hand slid up the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, gripping—not to hurt, but to hold you there.

Like he was scared you’d run.

Like he’d chase you if you did.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was wrecked.

“You kissed him. You kissed me.”

And then—

A hand on his shoulder.

Not aggressive.

Just there.

Hyunjin froze, breath heaving.

There was Chan.

Still silent, still unreadable.

His fingers curled tightly around Hyunjin’s hoodie, tugging once.

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched.

He let go of your shirt and stepped back, but his eyes stayed locked on yours.

Chan didn’t speak until Hyunjin was clear.

Then he looked down at you.

And oh God—

That look.

That slow burn in his eyes.

Like he’d waited.

Like he’d let them go first.

But now?

Now it was his turn.

His hand rose to cup your cheek—bigger, rougher, and steady.

“You sure you don’t want to choose?” he asked quietly.

Your breath caught. “I—”

He didn’t wait for you to respond.

He kissed you to silence.

And it was devastating.

Not rushed.

Not angry.

Just deep and possessive in a way that made your knees buckle.

His lips moved slowly, like he wanted you to feel every second of it, like he had all the time in the world but no patience left at all.

When he pulled back, you were dizzy.

Your body leaned forward, chasing him without realizing.

And from behind—Hyunjin’s voice.

“Yo,” he snapped, breathless. “No fair.”

Chan’s thumb brushed your lip, smug. “Didn’t see your name on her, did I?”

Felix, from the side—still flushed, still watching with wide eyes: “…I’d like to file a complaint.”

You actually laughed, and it was the only thing that kept you from collapsing right then and there.

Because now?

There was no going back.

Your breath was still shaky.

Your shirt wrinkled from Hyunjin’s fist, your lip still tingling from Chan’s last kiss, and you swear Felix’s scent is still on your skin.

The air feels wet with tension. Heated.

You can’t tell if your legs are trembling from adrenaline or desire.

But then Felix moves, and you forget how to think altogether.

He’s in front of you again, gently shoving past Chan. His hands are curling around your waist, eyes wild with something soft and wrecked all at once.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he murmurs.

Then his lips are on yours once more.

And they’re starving.

Not just want—but relief. Like he’s been waiting, needing, holding it back, and finally—finally—he can kiss you the way he’s been dreaming about.

His hand slips beneath your shirt—just at your waist, not going further—but his thumb traces a slow circle on your skin, and your knees damn near give out.

But a warm body presses into your back, holding you up.

Hyunjin’s taller; you feel him before you hear him—his breath on your neck, fingers curling over your hip, grounding you like an anchor tied to a storm.

You gasp into Felix’s mouth.

And Hyunjin laughs. Low and dirty.

“You let him have you first?” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “That’s cute.”

Felix growls softly against your mouth but doesn’t stop kissing you.

Hyunjin’s hands slide up your sides, over the curve of your ribs, until he tilts your face back—gently—and replaces Felix’s kiss with his own.

And his is rougher, hungrier.

He kisses like he’s trying to break a rule, with one hand fisted in your hair, while the other traces down your front until you whimper into his mouth.

That’s when Felix shifts—he’s kissing down your neck now, whispering something you can’t hear, but feel all the way down your spine.

You’re shaking, and then Chan’s voice cuts through the haze.

Calm. Dangerous. Full of command.

“She’s mine.”

Before you can blink, Hyunjin’s pulled away, and you’re yanked forward, pressed full against Chan’s chest, his hand cradling the back of your head like you’re precious.

And then—he kisses you.

Slow. Deep. Dominant.

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for the right moment to end you.

And now that it’s here, he’s going to take his time.

His tongue drags along yours in a rhythm that makes your spine arch.

Your hands fist into his shirt, clawing at his chest for something real to hold onto because the rest of you is floating.

You feel Felix still kissing your shoulder.

Hyunjin’s hands are back on your waist, mouth brushing the side of your throat.

Your brain stops, and you can’t breathe.

You barely whisper, voice wrecked: “Wait… who’s—who was—”

Someone groans against your neck.

“Does it matter?” Hyunjin murmurs, biting just under your ear.

Another mouth is back on yours—Felix this time, you think—but it’s getting hard to tell.

Your body sways. Someone’s hand is on your thigh. Another at your back. Another tugging gently at your wrist.

Three mouths. Three voices.

All saying your name in three different languages of worship.

And for the first time—

You don’t want to choose.

You want this.

All of it.

You’re not sure who kisses you next.

Lips blur together, tongues tangle.

Your name becomes a prayer in three different voices—low, desperate, and reverent.

Hands roam your waist, your thighs, your arms—like they can’t decide what part of you they need to memorize first.

You’re barely holding onto reality when a pair of arms suddenly scoop you up from behind.

Strong and solid, and your gasp is swallowed by Felix’s lips.

But your back lands against a firm chest a second later, your thighs pulled over thick legs, your body dropped straight into a lap.

And when you blink—oh, you’re in Chan’s arms.

His hoodie’s already gone, and his skin burns against yours. His thighs are spread wide under you like a throne.

His arms wrap around your waist like he doesn’t plan to ever let go.

“Finally,” he mutters into your ear. “Been dreaming of this since day one.”

Then—

His fingers curl into the hem of your shirt.

And lift.

You let him, and now your top is gone.

You’re bare from the waist up, sitting in Bang Chan’s lap, surrounded by two other men whose eyes go dark with need.

You cover yourself on instinct—but Hyunjin’s already kneeling in front of you, his mouth at your chest, his hot breath grazing your skin. His eyes drag up to meet yours as he grits out, “Don’t you dare.”

He moves your hands away with a growl, kissing you right on your nipple.

His tongue follows, flattening to drag a slow lick across the hardened peak, and it’s filthy.

He doesn’t ask, he takes.

Then Felix’s shirt hits the floor behind you with a soft whump.

He’s pressing kisses down your arm now, murmuring “So soft… so fucking pretty…” between each one.

Chan’s hand slides up your thigh, splaying across your stomach, his voice low and rough in your ear:

“Still want all of us?” he breathes.

You nod without thinking.

“No, baby. I need to hear it.”

You exhale shakily, writhing in his lap as Hyunjin’s tongue flicks.

“Yes.”

Felix nips your shoulder.

Hyunjin moans.

And Chan?

Chan pulls your head back and kisses you like he’s going to make you say it again with your entire body.

Hyunjin groans, unlatching from your breast just long enough to declare: “You taste like everything I’ve wanted.”

You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his curls, nails grazing the delicate skin of his neck, desperate to mark him as much as he’s marking you.

Your senses spiral—skin tingling, lips swollen from their kisses, your chest rising and falling too fast.

You can’t tell where one man’s touch ends and another’s begins; it’s a symphony of sensations, a dance of lips and hands and whispered names.

Chan’s mouth captures yours again, slow and demanding, tongue teasing, searching, claiming.

Hyunjin’s hands travel lower, sliding beneath your waistband, fingertips tracing the sensitive curve of your hipbone, cherishing hearing you gasp.

Felix’s lips find the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing, sucking a bruising kiss that leaves you breathless.

Your hands roam over their bodies—over firm shoulders, along hard arms, under shirts that have long since been discarded.

The heat between you all is a tangible thing, thick and heavy and impossible to ignore.

You’re drowning in desire, in affection, in the messy, beautiful chaos of being loved and wanted by three men who see you—truly see you—in every breath and every touch.

And as their lips and hands claim you again and again, you know, deep in your soul, this is just the beginning.

To be continued

-E

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Darry slams the phone down a little harder than he means to, clatterin' it against the wall 'n the pleasant everythin' is just fine voice falls away immediately.

"Everyone with a rap sheet not biologically related to me better start cleanin' or beat it now." Everyone who'd been piled up loungin' on the couch is suddenly on their feet.

"What's goin' on, Dar?" Soda 'n Pony both don't have to ask, jumpin' over each other sprintin' down the hall 'n throwin' the door open so hard it slams against the wall. Clothes fly hodge podge out into the hall, hittin' the wall 'n pilin' on the floor.

"Child fuckin' services are makin' an unexpected call the bastards." Dallas makes a sympathetic sound but grabs Johnny's collar 'n pulls him towards the door. Johnny sighs 'n digs his heels in, jarrin' Dally as he stops. He jerks his head at the laundry room 'n Dallas groans but follows him, both hastily foldin' the pile of laundry Darry had been cajolin' Pony into for two days.

"Oh shit man." Two jumps on top of the couch, flickin' his knife out 'n usin' it to unscrew the traffic signs Steve, Dallas, Two, 'n Soda had stolen months ago 'n Darry had been diligently ignorin' ever since.

"Where's the vacuum?" Pony reappears in the living room, eyes wide. Soda lurches around behind him, head 'n shoulders completely hidden behind the pile of dirty clothes.

"Closet, I'll get it, Pone." Steve ducks behind him, rippin' the closest door 'n yankin' the vacuum from its dusty home.

"Wait no- I got it-"

"Ponyboy Michael why don't you focus on doin' the dishes like you were supposed to do last night." Darry's frantically yankin' windows open to air out the house, which smells a little too much like an ashtray for comfort.

"But I-"

"Pony c'mon." Soda shifts the laundry to one arm 'n grabs Pony by the front of the shirt, draggin' him into the kitchen.

Two finally gets the sign out of the wall, shovin' it under the couch to hide it 'n runnin' into the kitchen to grab a couple of the sketches Pony's done that Darry has pinned to the fridge to cover the screw holes.

"Pony, why are their unrolled cigs under your bed?" Steve shouts 'n Darry watches Pony cringe through the doorway from where he's tryin' to make the mess of shoes 'n coats by the doorway look more presentable.

"Ponyboy Michael we talked about you rollin' your own goddamn kools." Steve snickers 'n Pony stops lookin' at Darry with big, pleadin' eyes to look outlandishly pissed.

"Go get 'em, Glory God, we gotta get rid of 'em." Pony ducks past Darry, not fully managin' to avoid the whack on the back of the head Darry sends him.

Pony disappears into his room 'n they can all hear them get in a couple solid hits back 'n forth. "Ponyboy Michael 'n Steven Thomas we do not have time for this." There's a brief pause 'n then a stingin' slap. "Ohh, Steven Thomas Randle if that leaves a goddamn mark I'm takin' it out of your ass." Pony unsuccessfully tries to hide his snort behind a cough 'n reluctantly shuffles back out, droppin' the cigs into Darry's hand. He shoves the whole mess deep into his pocket 'n clips Pony upside the head again.

"Anyone else have any illegal shit they'd like to turn in while we're on the topic?" Darry glances up 'n finds five pairs of deeply guilty eyes peerin' back at him. "Oh my God."

"Look, you have to promise not to get ma-"

"So, uh-"

"Man, maybe-"

"Everyone shut up. I'm goin' to close my eyes for thirty goddamn seconds 'n if it is out of my house by then I won't say anythin'." Darry presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, tries not to think about the poundin' migraine flutterin' in his temples.

Both the back door 'n front door slam 'n at least four pairs of feet hit the ground runnin'. Glory almighty, he didn't even want to know.

The kitchen tap flips on 'n he listens as Johnny goes to join Pony, flyin' through the pile of dishes. The door to Steve's beater slams closed 'n the four delinquents of the hour file back into the house.

Darry drops his hands from his eyes 'n shoots Two, Soda, Dallas, 'n Steve a glare that says we'll be talkin' about this later. Most of them at least have the decency to drop their eyes to the floor.

"Alright, someone's gotta straighten up this fuckin' living room, one of you needs to go get the beer cans off my lawn, 'n I need two of you to run down to the corner store 'n get some groceries so our fridge doesn't look like y'all ate me out of house 'n home."

"I'll go get the fallen soldiers, they're prob'ly all mine anyways." Two ducks back out the door with a sheepish grin, catchin' the screen door so it doesn't come off the hinges.

"Me 'n Soda can go get the groceries, we can take the beater." Steve fishes his keys out with one hand 'n grabs Soda by the shirt front with the other.

"Oh, nuh-uh. With my luck, you two would get so distracted I wouldn't see you until three hours after the lady leaves. Soda, you get started on the livin' room. Steve 'n Dallas go get the food. 'N take the truck. At this rate, your beater wouldn't start 'n you'd get stranded in the parkin' lot."

Steve shrugs a shoulder, takes the keys 'n Master Card Darry tosses him 'n Dallas nods, both of them peelin' back out the door. Soda pouts but goes to start pickin' up the clutter without a fight.

Lord, if only they were this agreeable all the time.

Pony 'n Johnny report back to Darry, shakin' the water from the dishes off their hands. "What else do you need, Dar?" Johnny wipes the back of his hands on his jeans, 'n glances around for another job.

"Yeah, Johnnycakes, can you help me with dinner? I want somethin' on that table when they show." Johnny nods 'n Darry ruffles his hair affectionately. "Pony, go get in that shower. You look like you just rolled around in the dirt." 'N he's not even that far off. He's got a smudge of ink right across his nose from whatever he'd been workin' on. Pony scowls but turns 'n goes for the bathroom.

Darry waits until he's shut the door 'n then follows Johnny into the kitchen. "Hey, wanna make that casserole they liked last time?" Leave it to Johnny to remember what meal the child services workers had liked.

"Nah, can't make them think we're doin' anythin' to fancy for 'em."

"Gotcha," Johnny nods 'n opens the cabinet, "so, pasta." Darry chuckles, rufflin' his hair again 'n fallin' in beside him to start the water boilin' on the stove.

At some point durin' their meal prep Dallas 'n Steve return, hoistin' five bags between the two of them, frantically arrangin' 'em in the icebox. Pony slides in, takin' over stirrin' the sauce, hair ungreased 'n curlin' around his ears. Darry drops a kiss to his temple 'n slicks his bangs away from his eyes. Soda takes his place in the bathroom, the shower turnin' back on.

Before Darry realizes it, dinner is plated on the table, the sink is empty, 'n the house is as close to spotless as it ever gets. Relief 'n exhaustion hit Darry like a freight train. They make quick work of packagin' up plates for Two, Steve, Dallas, 'n Johnny 'n Darry squeezes shoulders 'n musses up hair 'n makes them all promise to come back in two hours when the visit is done.

His stomach does an unpleasant twist when Steves's headlights swing out of the driveway. He hates these visits. He truly does. He runs a hand up 'n down his neck nervously, glances at the clock.

Pony's head nestles against his side 'n Darry drops an arm around him, pullin' him in. "We'll be alright, right Dar?" And Darry does what he does best: sound more confident than he feels.

"Yeah, kiddo. We'll be just fine." Soda slides back down the hall in he socks, trippin' n' stumblin' like a foal. "Glory, Soda, please don't bust anythin' before the government folks get here."

"Aw, Dar, you're always ruinin' my fun." Soda grins his wide crooked smile 'n Darry feels Pony relax against his side.

"That's what they pay me for. Now, c'mon 'n eat before it gets cold." Pony pushes himself off Darry 'n Soda grabs him rufflin' his damp hair 'n makin' Pony hoot a laugh. They've just plopped down when there's a knock at the door.

All three of them whip around to look.

Darry shoots them a grin that he hopes doesn't look as nervous as he feels. He blows out a long breath, puts his hand on the knob to open the door, glancin' around one final time to make sure nothin' is out of place when his eyes fall on-. "Oh, glory." He reaches up beside the door 'n yanks out the knife Dallas had pinned the shoppin' list to the wall with. "What am I gonna do with y'all?"

"Keep us!" Soda hollers 'n Pony dissolves into giggles. Darry watches them for a moment, Soda's eyes flashin' 'n the sound of Pony's laugh.

"I'm gonna do my best." 'N he opens the door.

also a tag for being very sweet in the tags this is one of the fics I was cookin' up at work today more to come SOON @horsegirlsodapop ilyyy 😭🫶

[alwaysanangelneverag0d]

~Fast break to your heart~Pazzi AU

NWSL Paige x WNBA Azzi

a/n: Im genuinely so sorry for the wait and false promises guys ,ive had a really stressful past couple days.I plan on releasing a one shot in a couple days to make up for it. Hope yall enjoy 😛also paige is a YEARNERRRRR agenda is real.Jeff Buckley was my biggest inspo in writing this chapter.The linked song specifically.

Wc:6.4k

Chapter 2:Curious isn’t the right word

May 2026

The familiarity of her own home was something Paige had been craving since the moment she left the arena—no crowds, no cameras, no noise. Just the soft hum of her fridge, the low buzz of the ceiling light, and the comfort of knowing she didn’t have to be on anymore.

Cam was already sprawled across the couch like she paid rent, one leg kicked over the armrest, the other resting lazily on a throw pillow that definitely wasn’t meant for feet. Paige sat opposite her, legs tucked up underneath her, hoodie sleeves pulled down over her hands

The ice clinked softly in their glasses—grenadine twisting through Sprite like a watercolor bleed—as the two of them nursed their Shirley Temples in silence, the kind that only long-time friends could share comfortably.

Cam took a long sip of her shirley then tilted her head “So…what’d you think”

Paige glanced over expressionless “Of the game?”

“No dumbass.Azzi”

Paige felt her breath catch, quickly covering it with a long sip of her drink. “I don’t know,”she shrugged with a forced lightness,setting her glass down on the coffee table ”I met her for like 5 seconds.”

“Long enough for her to not like you”Cam replied always honest

“Yeah i noticed” Paige muttered, tilting her head back against the cushion. She let the aftertaste of cherry and lemon linger on her tongue like it might drown the bitterness under her ribs”She was polite i guess.”

“Polite” Cam raised her eyebrows “She shook your hand the same way she shook the team sponsors last week.Not even a smile”

Paige shrugged “To be fair i wasn’t exactly polite either”

She didn’t say what she really meant: I didn’t know how to be. Not with Azzi. Not when she looked at her like that—and then didn’t look at all.

“You were acting like you were at a damn press conference”Cam swirled her drink in the glass “I mean i mentioned her name how many times and you still couldn’t remember who she was.”

But that wasn’t true. Not really

The name had lived on the edge of her radar, barely a whisper until two weeks ago. After Cam brought her up, Paige did what she always did when something nagged at her—she researched. And she had not been prepared.Azzi Fudd. The name pulsed through the media, interviews, and highlights .

“Generational player”

“The next Maya Moore”

Paige had heard it all.

She even out of curiosity subjected herself to a few games.To her shock—watching Azzi’s clips felt like she was tracing the same path someone else had carved through the dark. There was something in her rhythm,her expressionless focus,her devotion to the game that drew Paige.Like brushstrokes made by the same trembling hand.Azzi seemed to move through her life with the precision that came from pressure instead of peace.

She realized in watching Azzi’s highlights that maybe they were painted from the same palette.Not identical,no.But created by the same weight in the wrist.The hunger to prove,and the same exhaustion from the effort.And she hated that,hated how much a stranger made her chest ache with nostalgia.

Yet despite the similarities.Azzi didn’t even look at her,she looked right through her.And that hurt more than she was willing to admit

“She didn’t just not like me” Paige said finally “She treated me like i was nothing”.

Cam smiled “Now you know how it feels.”

Paige glared at her “What.”

Can rolled her eyes.

‘Every woman in the country would kill for you to even say hi to them.And Azzi?.She shook your hand like you were a ball boy”Cam finished off the last of her shirley”No offense but it was kind of satisfying to watch to be honest”

Paige didn’t respond.What was she supposed to say?That she hadn’t stopped thinking of the flex of Azzi’s triceps when their hand met?That Azzi’s coldness had felt like a check to the chest?

That despite her coldness,Paige couldn’t help but wonder what her voice sounded like when it wasn’t so distant?

Instead Paige put her hands together and asked quietly “Did she hear something about me?Like.. before we met”

Cam blinked.”What?No.”

Paige paused scratching at the pale skin above her eyebrow “I don’t know it felt like she was offended by just my presence.”

Cam looked over paige.Trying to read into the vulnerability displayed in her posture “Nah.Azzi can just be like that sometimes with people.”

The answer Paige had been racking her brain for was finally answered.Though it provided her no relief.She somehow felt worse.

Why was she someone Azzi barely acknowledged?

Cam eventually clocked the drawn silence,the way Paige started making both of them a second shirley instead of answering.

“Oh my god” Cam shot straight up from the sofa “You like her.”

Paige scoffed as hard as she could,as if it was rehearsed “What?No.I’m just curious”

Cam leaned in with a smirk that meant nothing but teasing “Curious isn’t the right word.You literally asked why she didn't like you,like a kid wondering why their love note didn’t get passed back”

“Cam seri-”

“No, because this is rich.You collect girls like souvenirs.Hook up,disappear.repeat.But Azzi ignores you and suddenly it’s-”Did I do something ot her?”.Cam dramatically put her hand to her chest as if offended

“I didn’t say I-”Paige paused her eyes glaring “You’re always trying to set me up with your friends.It never works.”

“Because you dont bite!” Cam snorted ‘’I mean seriously I introduced you to an actual Vogue model and you shrugged.But Azzi treats you like nothing and now you’re in complete crisis”

‘’Im not in fucking crisis”Paige snapped, taking a long, deliberate sip of her Shirley Temple like it might cool the heat rising in her chest. “I just asked a simple question.”

“You asked it with a bruised ago” Cam pointed “Thats the difference”

Paige just shot her a sharp glare strong enough to draw blood. “Fuck off.”

Cam just raised her hands and leaned back in surrender. “I got it,I got it.Loud and clear,Miss emotional my bad.”

A pause settled between them—long enough to feel pointed—.Paige crossed her ankles together.Letting out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding

‘’She just… caught me off guard’ she trailed off “That’s all”

Cam raised her glass in a mock toast at this “Welcome to the club PB.She catches everyone off guard.”

Paige let Cam’s remark linger.Fixing her gaze towards the wall behind Cam’s shoulder.These sudden bursts of silence were too long for someone who claimed to be unaffected.

Cam’s amusement flickered to small concern “You good?’

‘’You know i don’t do this stuff”.Paige stated it flat,almost automatic—like muscle memory .But the way her voice dropped and caught in the back of her throat made it feel like confession.Like she needed to remind her herself more then Cam.

“Not since highschool”

“That was years ago Paige”

“Doesn’t feel like it sometimes” Paige muttered,eyes fixating on the ice melting in her glass.

The words left her mouth.But her jaw stayed tight,shoulders stiff—as if speaking might shake something loose she wasn’t ready to deal with.She offered nothing more.She never did.Not about that time in her life.Not even to Cam, who she trusted more than most.

Cam didn’t push,instead she just swirled the cherry in her drink.Letting the silence linger before breaking it with a light tone“Azzi’s not asking for a relationship.She barely even spoke to you.”

‘’Yeah and that’s likely a good thing” Paige replied tilting back her head to down the rest of her drink.Like it would make the ache in her chest go away “People are easier when they don’t want something from you.”

Cam didn’t say anything.She just laid back and watched Paige retreat into herself,not with distance but silence.A behaviour Cam had learned meant to stop pushing

And Paige didn’t look up.She just stared into her empty glass knowing it would feel safer than eye contact.

And to be truthful it was

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, after Cam had left—promising, half-teasing, that Paige better show up courtside tomorrow—Paige found herself regretting ever agreeing to go. The season opener. A game she’d told Cam and Rickea she’d attend to “show support,” even though the thought of it now made her stomach twist.Paige sat on the edge of her sofa the tv humming a low sound to make the silence feel less loud.Her Shirley had been replaced with a glass of something with more punch.Something with a bite

Whiskey.

Her head buzzed—-not from the alcohol.But from the unshakable thought of her.

Azzi.

She hadn’t expected her thoughts to linger this long. Not over this. It had only been a handshake. A few glances. A throwaway comment about her goal. The kind of surface-level exchange Paige had been through a hundred times—empty gestures dressed up like meaning. Nothing remarkable. Nothing that should’ve stayed with her.But she couldn’t stop replaying it over and over again.The way Azzi’s voice had dropped to something cool and distant.As if she wanted nothing to do with her

Or worse—like she had already figured out who Paige was.And had decided quietly that she wasn’t worth an ounce of time.

She grabbed her phone,more in habit then intention.Her thumb scrolled aimlessly scrolling for something to drag her thoughts somewhere else.She had never been one for notifications—there were always too many.Too many likes.Too many tags.Too many people judging her behind a screen.

But something had made her open the app.Maybe it was the alcohol.Maybe it was an excuse to fill the silence.

And there it was

azzi35 liked your photo

She blinked once.Maybe even twice.It had to be her imagination.

Paige’s heart suddenly felt like it was about to escape out of her chest.

The post was old—from three years ago to be exact.

From a time that felt like another lifetime entirely. Paige in her Stanford kit, drenched in sweat, grinning so wide it made her eyes squint. Her arms slung around her teammates, the national championship trophy pressed against her side. The best day of her life—maybe the last time she remembered feeling that kind of raw, uncomplicated joy.

She remembered the game vividly. Her knee had been screaming the entire second half. But she’d stayed in. Scored the game-winning goal with less than five minutes left on the clock. She could still hear the roar of the crowd. The weight of that moment lived in her muscles even now.

And Azzi had liked it…

At 12:52am.

She tapped her own username.Scrolled past to the photo.Scanning the likes as if her life depended on it.There it was.

azzi35-clear as day

Not a mistake.Not a glitch

“No way” Paige muttered.The effect of the alcohol suddenly felt more present

She clicked on Azzi’s account.Triple checked it was her verified account—and not some sick joke.Scrolled through her account as if it had the answers to questions she was too afraid to ask in the space outloud.

Azzi had been on her page. Late at night. Deep enough to find a post from three years ago. And she hadn’t just looked.

She’d double tapped.

Her heart started doing that annoying fluttering thing.The restless electric throbbing she had come to hate——It felt like the feeling of pregame nerves. But this time mixed with something far more tender.

Why now?Why when Paige couldn’t stop thinking about her?

Was it an accident?A slip-up?

The former was likely.But Paige wanted it to be the latter.The idea that Azzi had purposefully engaged with Paige in a subtle way was intoxicating.The kind of intoxication she promised to not let herself be pulled into again.

But by now it was 12:57am and Paige was most definitely drunk.

Definitely not blackout drunk—but the loose impulsive kind,where thoughts came fast and her filter came slow.The kind where emotions felt louder.Clearer.

Her thumbs hovered over the screen with hesitation.

She shouldn’t.

She knew she shouldn’t

But she did.

I didn’t take you to be a stanford fan

She hit send before she even could second guess herself.Before logic took the phone out of her hands

She stared at what she had just done.Horrified at her drunken boldness

She thought about unsending it.Her finger even hovered over the button.

At that moment she even considered throwing her phone across the room instead—maybe even at the wall.Maybe into the ocean.Whichever one made her feel better.

Though she didn’t

Instead she dropped it on the far end end of the couch like it burned her

“Idiot” she dragged her hand down her face with a kind of shame only reserved for the stupidest mistakes.

“Drunk idiot”

There was no one to hear her words.But she said them loud anyways.

But beneath the embarrassment of her drunk actions——lingered something else.

Hope

And undoubtedly fear.

Because if Azzi responded?That would mean something.

and if she didn’t

That would mean everything.

————————————————————————-

Paige woke up with the dry taste of both regret and whiskey in her mouth.The sunlight burned through the living room curtains.Her head throbbed in waves with pain,and her mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton balls.

She groaned, barely cracking open one eye. Her apartment was a mess—half a bag of chips on the coffee table, an empty glass sticky with cherry syrup beside it, and her phone… somewhere.

She sat up slowly rubbing her fingers to her temples in the hope that she could will the ache away.Last night started coming through in flashes.Cam’s relentless teasing.Her stubbornness about the situation.The pitiful lone drinking session

And then——Oh god.

She had texted Azzi last night.Her eyes widened and she scrambled for her phone

It had fallen between the couch cushions after the chaotic night.She yanked it out screen smudged with fingerprints ,and remnants of desperation.Her thumb hesitated for a mere second before she opened instagram,she braced herself.

No message.

No dot beside Azzi’s name.

Nothing,Just the message from the night before lingering like an open wound—unopened unanswered,ignored

Maybe she just hadn’t seen it.. Maybe it got buried in message requests like so many others did. Paige had told herself that more than once already. But the rationalizations felt weak.

Still, she stared at the message like it might disappear.That id she looked hard enough,it would unsend itself.Rewrite her mistake

But no. She’d sent it.

Drunk as hell. Embarrassingly bold.

All over a stupid Instagram like.

A like that meant nothing.

To Azzi, probably.

To her, clearly too much.

She had shot in the dark,hoping for a fraction of something—anything really.Yet Azzi hadn’t even bothered to open it.

Azzi’s rejection wasn’t loud.It was quiet.Quiet in a way that stung more.Like Paige Bueckers,the star with her names on billboards and a thousand unread dms,wasn’t even a flicker in Azzi Fudd’s mind.

She dropped her phone on the coffee table with a dull thud.Letting it slide away. Then she slouched back onto the couch,

“God you’re such an idiot” she ran her hands over her face like she could rub the feelings away.

She laid there for awhile.Motionless in the loud quiet of her house.

The ache in her skull deepened, but it wasn’t from the hangover. That would fade.

This wouldn’t.

This was the kind of ache that came from being met with nothing at all.

Azzi’s silence had weight. And now, Paige was drowning in it.

————————————————————-

Hours later Paige stood in the shower,forehead pressed to the cool tiles,water hitting her back in thick unrelenting drops.It felt like punishment.Or baptism for her thoughts.Or both

Her head throbbed so loudly that it sent an ache towards her neck and down her spine.The price of one too many drinks and a drunk text she couldn’t take back.She had left her phone sitting on the sink counter.She felt as if the screen had been taunting her with silence.

She hadn’t checked again.Not since the first time this morning when her stomach dropped at what she had done last night.No reply.Like her words weren’t even worth a glance.

Paige let out a sharp breath running her hands through her hair.

What the hell was she thinking?

The water was scalding hot.But it didn't make a difference,it didn’t burn enough to distract her.Every single thought drifted back to one person

Azzi

Her face.The sound of her voice.How soft her hands were——even though they barely touched for more than 3 seconds.How her eyes didn’t have a sparkle—they stared.Intense.Knowing.Like they could read Paige within just seconds of meeting her.

And now she’d probably think of her even worse.That she was a creep who messaged her at 1 in the morning.

Paige clenched her jaw and turned her face into the water.Letting the hot droplets hit her repeatedly like a wave.

She had no right to want anything from Azzi.Not after she had sworn this off all those years ago.Feelings.Crushes.Any feeling that made her heart stutter in rhythm.

But still—Azzi liked the post.

Three years old.Buried in years of advertisements and sunburned practice captions she didn’t remember.That meant something right?

She had gone down far enough that it meant she was looking at Paige in more than ignorance.

….Or maybe it meant nothing

She shut the water off harder than necessary,droplets still streaking down her structured arms as she stood there motionless.Attempting to will the heat out of her cheeks and the pressure out of her head.

She never did this

Never spiraled.Never overthinked.She definitely didn’t obsess over girls who left her on sent.

And yet she felt the urge in her fingers to check her phone again.

Just to check.Just to see

Just to remind herself she was waiting for a reply she would probably never recieve.A reply she shouldn't want to receive.

The towel was still wrapped around her body when Paige walked into her dimly lit room,steam clinging to her skin in a way that felt like guilt.Her phone buzzed on the bed.But she already knew it was before she even reached for it

Cam⛹️‍♀️:Don’t even think about bailing on the game tonight

No greeting,no lightness.Just a demand

Shit.She was late.The first quarter was just minutes from starting

But still she wasn’t rushed.Paige huffed.Flopping onto her mattress with a loud exhale that didn’t quite land-mostly due to her chest being too tight.

She wasn’t going to bail.

She hadn’t even decided she was going to bail.But leave it to cameron brink to sense her hesitation through the phone—like some psychic with 6’4 intuition.

Paige tossed her phone beside her and tried to will her body to get up.

She had promised Cam and Rickea weeks ago she’d be at the home opener.Just to support.Nothing dramatic.Nothing personal

But now?it felt personal

The idea of watching azzi dominate the game while pretending she wasn’t waiting for a reply or an acknowledgement…it made her stomach churn.

She doesn’t owe you anything

You’re not entitled to a reply because you’re hungover and anxious and your feelings are doing cartwheels for a girl who probably thinks your a joke.

She still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way Azzi had looked at her when they first met—Like Paige wasn’t special.Like she was just a player on the field.

Which was funny.Because Paige couldn’t stop thinking about every detail of their interaction since.

She opened Instagram again.Still nothing.Just the notification

azzi35 liked your post

Three years old.She shouldn’t care.People stalked her instagram all the time.

But Azzi wasn't like other people.

Eventually, she peeled herself off the mattress .Slowly. Like gravity had decided to press a little harder on her today. Her muscles ached—not from the game, not from alcohol, but from something heavier—something like shame.

Eventually, she reached for a hoodie. The old gray one, fraying at the sleeves, soft from years of wear. She didn’t bother checking for stains. Just yanked it over her head and let it swallow her whole. The fabric clung for a moment—static and stubborn—and for some reason, that made her want to burst into sudden tears.

Next came the shorts. The black ones with the faded Nike swoosh. She tugged them on roughly, like dressing faster would make her feel less exposed. Less ridiculous. She didn’t even care if they matched. It wasn’t about looking good. It was about covering up.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—hair tousled, lips chapped, a faint flush still blooming along her cheekbones from either shame or sleep—or both.

She looked like a girl trying very hard not to care.

Which she didn’t.

At least that’s what she told herself

Even as her heart thudded in a way it hadn’t in years.

Even as she practiced looking away if Azzi happened to look at her..

Even as she checked her phone one more time before she went out the door.

Still nothing

Still waiting.

———————————————————————

She was unable to beat the traffic and arrived at the start of the second period.

The second Paige walked in the building,she felt the electricity.Fans packed into seats,camera lights bouncing off the polished court floor.Loud cheers and excitement echoing.But when Paige Bueckers walked to her seat——the sound shifted and swelled around her.

She heard the hushed whispers ripple from the people she walked by

Is that Paige Bueckers?

Why is she here?

The attention always gravitated towards her.Even when she didn’t want it to.A thousand eyes trailed her every move as she slid into her seat.Security even stopped fans from asking for pictures.But Paige barely noticed

Because Azzi was already on the court.

And the second Paige saw her.It felt like her world had stopped completely

There was no spotlight on her.Azzi wore her jersey as if it were armour,played like it was her second skin.She wasn’t smiling or showboating.Just entirely focused—-All power rhythm and silence.

God,Paige thought,she’s unreal.

Azzi caught a pass on the wing and pivoted with choreographed grace.Her body moved like poetry written through muscle memory.Her legs tensed with every motion,strong and sculpted.And yet her expression didn’t flicker.Not even once

The shot went up-clean high effortlessly

Swish

The crowd erupted with a roar.But Paige didn’t.She couldn’t bring herself to

She was too busy studying the rise and fall of Azzi’s chest as she jogged towards defense.The flex of her arms,the way her fingers twitched as she moved,calculating her next move.Every detail printed itself into Paige’s brain like her favourite scriptures.

She realized then this wasn’t like a simple crush.It wasn’t something light.

This felt like reverence to her.In the same way she studied her book of scriptures before games.The same way she felt praised by the people of the city.Yet this wasn't the kind of praise people gave her— this was something loud,shallow,and hungry.

The kind of praise that came with silence and fear.The kind that made her want to pull back into herself.

Even as the game went on and halftime passed,she had intended to sit with the crowd like a normal person.Blend into the noise,keep it casual.Keep it cool.She was there for Cam and Rickea.That was the excuse she had crafted since the morning she awoke.But as soon as her eyes found Azzi on that court again everything else blurred out of focus.

She watched from her court side seat.Elbows on her knees.Retreating into herself.But no one was looking at her anyways.They were all looking at Azzi.

And Paige couldn’t blame them.

The way azzi moved was like psalm made flesh— it was as if her body knew the secrets held in the hardwood before the ball even left her fingers.Her moves were quiet and clean—a painting that would leave you staring for hours.Even if you had no idea why

Though despite her closeness with Cam,Paige never knew the intricates of basketball the way she knew the weight of the ball between her cleats.But she understood greatness.She understood obsession.And Azzi’s game was driven by both

There was a sudden jump in play—-fast break, one defender trailing. Azzi drove straight down the middle, took the contact mid-air, and still finished with a reverse layup that kissed the glass with impossible grace.

She had 17 points

The crowd screamed again.Paige didn’t

She just stared

Observing the way Azzi landed eyes cold—-like none if it ever touched her—made Paige's throat tighten.She felt frozen as the announcer called the basket.As the arena lit up with praise.Everyone saw something that was to be put on a highlight reel.Something posted online for fans to rave over.

Paige saw hunger.Loneliness.Something she had once felt before.The first year she stepped onto the pitch

Because just like Paige.Azzi didn’t celebrate.She didn’t smile.She just turned back in.And Paige’s eyes followed her magnetically the whole way.

Like gravity

She was sure she forgot to breathe at this point.

She felt like she truly saw her in that moment.Not for the stats.Not for the perfection in her game.But for the way Azzi seemed to be holding a part of herself back even while giving everything.Paige knew exactly what that felt like.The quiet but pressured restraint.That silent type kind of fury.

She understood it in a way that made her feel more exposed then she ever felt.She felt it deep in her chest.

And when Azzi glanced her way—just once,fleeting from the bench during a timeout.Paige felt her body stiffen even more

Because it wasn’t a look of someone acknowledging a fan.

It was something else entirely

Azzi looked away just as quickly.Almost as if she hadn’t looked at all.

But Paige still felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

She felt like she had just witnessed something holy

——————————————————————

It was late in the fourth and the Sparks had lead the Wings 67-50

Azzi had 25 points

Now she stood at the sideline, the ball in her hands for an inbound. The ref bounced it to her with a snap of rubber on hardwood, but Azzi didn’t flinch.

She had to inbound tight— directly in front of where Paige was sitting courtside.

Close enough that their shoes nearly kissed the same floor tile.

Azzi didn’t look at her. Not even a flicker.Not even a glance like before.

But Paige… Paige couldn’t do anything but look.

The arena lights hit her just right—angled and sharp, like they’d been hung solely to honor the slope of Azzi’s cheekbone. Her caramel skin didn’t just glow; it radiated, like the light knew it had found its favorite canvas. Every movement cast a shifting shadow, soft and molten across her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, the curve where her neck met shoulder. Paige swore she could see the heat rising off her. Not just from effort—but from being. From existing in that body, in that moment, so unbothered by the way the world watched.Unbothered by the way Paige watched.

Her triceps caught the light like sculpture—taut and defined, the kind of strength you didn’t just see but felt. They curved beneath her skin with quiet force, flexing as she adjusted her grip on the ball, the muscle shifting like a whisper beneath caramel gold. Not exaggerated. Just exact. Paige still couldn’t look away. There was something mesmerizing about the way those muscles moved without effort, like they were made for this—— for power without apology.And she hated how badly she wanted to touch them.How badly she wanted to feel the skin where the lines wove together—-where shoulder blended into tricep.That warm tense stretch of skin that held all those connections.Paige imagined tracing it with her thumb.Feeling the quiet shift of strength beneath soft skin,the way it would flex slightly just from her touch.It didn’t even feel like lust.It was reverance—for how something could be built so precisely through dedication,yet still leave her unraveled.

And in that frozen moment,she caught her scent too—faint but devastating. It was the sharp, clean edge of cedar mingled with the warmth of skin and the subtle tang of sweat, raw and honest and unbelievably tempting, like something she shouldn’t want but couldn’t help chasing. And in those few seconds—where Azzi stood just inches from her but never once met her eyes,and time froze still.Paige understood the word restraint in a way she never had before.

It was brutal. It was beautiful.

And it hollowed her out from the inside.

————————————————————

The game had ended twenty minutes ago and most of the crowd had already left the arena,L.A for once buzzing with praise that wasn’t focused entirely on her.The Sparks had beat the wings 70-55

Paige had lingered behind on the pretense of chatting with Cam and Rickea.

But they were doing post game interviews and media—or whatever people did when they weren’t consumed by something—or someone else entirely.

She found herself walking slowly through the inner corridor of Crypto arena,down the hallway the Sparks players had disappeared into after the final buzzer.The squeak of her shoes echoed off the concrete walls,too loud in the silence.

Azzi had walked down this hallway.

Probably just minutes ago

Paige didn’t know what the hell she was doing if she was being honest with herself .It wasn’t like she could just follow her.And yet here she was feet tracing the same path—like she could trace herself to that version of Azzi she had seen on the court—so otherworldly under fluorescent lights.

The air still felt warm.Thick with the smell of cleaner,discipline,and adrenaline.Paige swore she could still feel it—the ghost of Azzi’s presence,cedar and sweat leaving a trail.She inhaled too deep,too desperate,as if pulling the essence of Azzi into her lungs might tether her somehow.The scent of the caramel skinned girl still lingered,haunting,weaving through the still air and refusing to be forgotten.

It was ridiculous

God,she was ridiculous

And then——someone stepped out of a doorway just ahead

Paige startled,almost stumbling over her feet before catching herself.Her heart jumped in her chest.For one breath—she hoped it would be her.

But it wasn’t

Just a staff member.Mid forties.With a sparks lanyard.

They gave her a weird glance,then switched to recognition with a look of shock.

Paige stayed frozen for a second longer.Letting the disappointment settle like smoke curling in her lungs.She glanced down the rest of the hallway.It was empty

Azzi probably wasn’t even here

Paige suddenly felt stupid in a deep echoing way.It was if she was chasing something she wasn’t supposed to want—didn’t have a right to want.

Still,her fingers curled slightly at the fabric of her jeans.As if they remembered the briefness of that handshake.The soft warmth that hadn’t even settled before it was torn away.

She willed herself to turn around and walk back.Wait for Cam and Rickea.Pretend like she hadn’t walked into someone's shadow hoping to find a trace of light.

But her feet didn’t move

Not yet

She stood there for a few seconds longer, wondering what it would be like to bask in that light.

——————————————————————-

Paige was standing scrolling aimlessly through her phone—when she heard them before she saw them.Cam’s voice rising through the hallway,Rickea’s laugh not far behind.

“There she is!” Cam grinned,hair still damp from her aftergame shower.

Rickea pulled her into a small side hug “Thought you were gonna ghost us for a second”

“Nah” Paige tucked her phone away,summoning a smile she didn’t feel.”Wouldn’t miss it”

Cam eyed her “You good?”

“Yeah.Just hungover”

They started walking together,Cam bumping her shoulder as always, Rickea catching her up on a tech she took in the first.

Paige laughed at the right parts.Nodded where she was supposed to.But her eyes kept flicking past them,toward every hallway,every cluster of players greeting their loved ones.Waiting

She told herself she was just being polite.Just curious…

The truth was much heavier than that.Part of her had hoped Azzi would come find her.That she’d slip into view quietly.That there’d be a nod,maybe even a small smile,even eye contact in acknowledgement.

But Azzi never came.Never appeared out of a hallway.

And the longer Paige looked around without saying it aloud,the more foolish she felt for expecting something.

They reached the end of the corridor where Cam’s car sat parked.Cam tossed her bag in the trunk,looking towards Paige “Azzi dipped after press.She doesn’t hang around post game.It's kind of her unspoken thing.”

Paige just nodded as if it didn’t matter.Like she wasn’t hoping otherwise.

Just masked it with a shrug of the shoulders.But the constant ache she had been feeling for the past few hours was still there.

She didn’t want anything to do with me.

The thought ended silently,not even dramatically.Not even with somber—-just dull certainty.

Whatever had stirred between them the time they met…It had clearly been one-sided

Paige put on a smile as Rickea climbed into the passenger seat.,Cam tossed her keys into the air

“You coming?” Cam asked

Paige shook her head “Nah.I drove here.You guys have fun”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,i’m good”

Neither of her friends questioned it.

Paige waited until they pulled away before she let her smile fall.Then she pulled out her phone and stared at the one sided message thread with Azzi.

Still nothing.

She locked her phone without typing something.

Fine.It was nothing.No big deal.

Yet it felt like something had slipped away before she ever had the chance to grasp it between her fingers.

————————————————————————

Paige gripped the steering wheel with a numbing tightness as the city lights flicked through her windshield.The hum of the engine was the only sound filling the car,not even music.Her head was already loud enough.

Forget it

She repeated the same mantra she had been repeating for the last 24 hours,attempting to force a knot in her stomach to loosen.

She was supposed to be here for her friends.Not tangled up in a rookie’s glance,or the smell of her when she had stepped close enough.It was stupid.Dangerous.And something Paige never did

Her knuckles whitened as she shifted gears,the night pressing down.She thought about Azzi —that sharp focus,the rhythm in which she moved on the court.The way her eyes settled on Paige

Don’t do this.Don’t make it more than it is.

But the memory wouldn’t detach itself.

She blinked hard,pulling into her driveway.The neighborhood was quiet.A contrast to the noise inside her head was still relentless.

Paige shut the car off.Sat in the empty seat for just a minute and whispered into the thin air

I don’t do this

But deep down.She wasn’t so sure of that anymore.

———————————————————————-

Paige dropped her keys on the marble counter,still buzzing from the weight of the day.She barely had the energy to take her shoes off when her phone buzzed.

It was probably a message from Cam and Rickea.Teasing how much fun they were having without her.

But no,the screen lit up with the username she had been checking for the entire day.

azzi35:You know… you’re supposed to cheer when you show up to a game.

Paige almost dropped her phone in shock of the reply.Part of her wanted to make Azzi wait.

See how waiting made her feel.Let the message linger

Part of her wanted Azzi to feel the same ache and anxiety that had been thudding in her head.

Though she couldn’t.She didn’t want to let this slip through her fingers.

Her hands shook as she replied:

My bad.Guess I owe you some cheers next time.Nice jumpshot though.

Sent.

Paige's anxiety came back in a rush.

She never did this.But it’s like she couldn’t control herself.Azzi Fudd was someone who made her lose every aspect of control.Then—

Read

A text bubble appeared, staying for about 10 seconds before vanishing.Paige waited,hoping Azzi had just gotten distracted.

Her eyes stayed glued to the screen, the blinking cursor mocking her like a heartbeat she couldn’t catch. She tapped the message again, then put her phone down—just for a moment.But when she picked it back up, nothing had changed.

No reply. No new message. Just the cold “Seen.”

Why wasn’t Azzi replying?Was she annoyed?Bored?Or worse—did she not care?

The feeling sank over her like a wave.

Paige’s fingers tightened around the phone.As the walls she was ready to break down built themselves more.

I can’t let myself want someone like this.Not again.

With a deep exhale,she pushed the phone aside—biting back the longing of more.Reminding herself to stay guarded

Because sometimes wanting someone wasn’t good enough.

[hardlyinteresting]

Stop in the middle

Jake Seresin x reader

Two sides of the same coin; they were joined at the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”.

So much wine by Phoebe Bridgers  Somewhere else by Indians Abbey by  Mitski

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, (call sign Angel), with no physical description, crash landing, wilderness survival, major injuries (non-graphic description), discussions of death, happy ending though (I promise!), hurt/comfort, idiots in love, possible Navy inaccuracies, (please let me know if you'd like me to add anything else)

Word Count: 4.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

 Laying in the snow she watches the sun rise inch by inch over the tree line. The sky bathed in a soft orange glow that warms her skin for what she can only assume will be the last time. He’ll hate her for leaving him without saying goodbye, but her voice has already left her and her arms are too weak to shake him from his slumber. 

In the distance the cotton fluff clouds rest on the peaks of the mountains; tremendous contrast so perfectly balanced. She feels each of Hangman's breaths expanding the firm plane of his chest as her breathing grows slower. Two days ago she never would have imagined dying in the arms of Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin. 

---

They had taken off at the barest crack of dawn breaking. 0600 hours. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Take off from the carrier. Fly over. Survey the valley below—report anomalies. Continue the flight path, and land at a nearby ally airbase. Refuel. Return to the carrier. They'd been tasked with flying similar paths for the last two weeks as part of a larger peacekeeping and security effort. As far as deployments go, they were lucky to have been selected to be the joint task force; and more fortunate to not be engaged in active combat. 

Though Hangman would loathe to admit it with his two confirmed air combat kills, she knows herself that no pilot wants to be under enemy fire or in a position to take a life; it's an unfortunate consequence and frequent reality of the job. 

In the time they’ve known each other, she’s heard Jake speak frequently about his mother and her homemade pie waiting for him in Texas. He tells stories about the boys he used to play football with in high school, and family reunions with little nieces and nephews running about barefoot. She’s heard him making plans to buy a home and settle down. He dreams of a future. Anyone paying attention knows that beneath the outwardly cocky exterior, and adrenaline rushes, he's afraid of dying. 

It wasn't enemy fire that took them down two days ago, but rather sudden major malfunctions that left them without any navigation system, defective coms, and an aircraft almost completely unresponsive to pilot commands. Their saving grace had been Hangman's quick thinking to point them towards a clearing in the tree line, and her decision to dump their fuel as they descended rapidly toward the ground. Flying too low to eject safely they braced themselves for impact, an apology for something he could not have stopped on Jake's lips. 

The sounds of alarms and rapid beeping tones woke them. The smell of burning jet fuel startled them into action again. Jake's head stayed lulled forward his eyes slipping shut again before his limbs burst into action with a level of urgency that forced her to react with equal fervour. She watched wide-eyed as Hangman pushed open the canopy pulling himself up and out of his seat, rolling sideways out the opening. Only in watching his exit did she notice the awkward angle the jet had landed at. The nose crumpled by the force of the impact, their wings clipped and lost somewhere in the trees or across the clearing; the body had slid half on its side, a couple hundred feet through revealing mud beneath and leaving a wake of burning grass melting through the powder white snow. A sharp pain threatened to make her lose her breakfast as she clambered from her seat and the tangle of buckles and straps that had saved her life. She tumbled with purpose but little grace out into the frozen valley. 

“Alright?” Hangman asked standing with his back straight as she doubled over trying hard to catch her breath. She nodded but he didn't make any effort to speak or move giving her a moment to collect herself. 

Sucking in the ice-cold air she ignored the searing pain tearing through her rib cage. Her attention drifted from herself back to Jake who swayed on his feet, the soft crunch of snow sounding beneath his feet as he tried to find a place to stand steady. Watching him pale she only grew more convinced Jake was concussed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Dizzy for sure”. 

“Well, we'll thank our lucky stars we crashed in allied territory. Once we find shelter, I'll run a concussion protocol for you.” 

Their non-functioning radios had left them no way to communicate their mayday calls. They had tried in vain to transmit their approximate coordinates as their headsets filled with static. Their navigation system ran haywire, the coordinates too impossible to be accurate in any case. 

His brows furrowed as he turned to survey their crash sight. His usually bright smile had been pulled into a firm line that confirmed to her they'd be stranded for a while. 

A gust of wind reminded them of how exposed they were in the clearing. While enemy scouts wouldn't be an issue, the potential for hypothermia would be. 

“Map. Compass. Let's grab the chutes from the seats as well,” she suggested. Hangman was uncharacteristically quiet in his agreement, giving her a nod of affirmation as they collected what they could from the jet. 

The sun was still high in the sky above them providing decent light though filtered through bare branches and evergreen limbs. Somewhat guarded from the biting wind they allowed themselves to settle for a moment hoping to find their bearings and build a solid plan for their survival. 

Before they began to plummet they had been about a quarter of an hour's flight from the air base on the other side of the valley. Plotting their estimated crash site on the paper map they found themselves nearly 250 miles away from their destination, walking sun up to sun down would still mean a 2-and-a-half day walk. 

“Look alive sunshine,” she teased as Jake's eyes began to droop. He'd let out a laugh his smile surprisingly bright as he tilted his head back to look at her. “You're so bossy,” he complained. 

“I'm about to get bossier, I've got to make sure you don't have a concussion”. 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted. 

“Don't sass me Seresin,” she warned, though she tried to keep the tone playful. 

For years they'd played this game; pushing each other's buttons skirting around the edges of flirtation and toeing the line of verbal bullying. Ribbing him was how she had learned to be affectionate towards him. Giving him a hard time made him flustered, or it made him laugh, and either reaction was a well-welcomed sight that had left a fluttering in her chest. The lighthearted back and forth they'd learned to communicate through made it easier to ignore the sidelong glances, and yearning that had begun to take shape beneath the surface. 

“Alright,” she sighed, pulling the tiny flashlight out of her belt, “eyes on me”.

“They usually are,” he smirked. 

With the light, she checked his eyes and got promising results: no abnormal dilation. Both pupils were even and responsive to light. “Today's date?” She asked him. 

“February twelfth”.

“Your date of birth?” 

“October twenty-first. Nineteen ninety”.

“Any headache, nausea, persistent dizziness?” 

He responded no to all the symptoms and she allowed some relief to fill her knowing the initial symptoms had dissipated and not worsened. Finally, she held one finger up waiting for his eyes to focus. “Follow me,” she said her hand moving to the left, his eyes followed. 

“I'll follow you anywhere,” he said as her hand moved to the right. 

“Don't flirt with me, Hangman”. 

“Wouldn't it be stranger if I didn't? I’m just proving I’m not concussed”. His point was somewhat valid but she didn't let him know she thought so, continuing her evaluation in silence.

He's like this with everyone. She'd been telling herself the same thing for years. You're not special. He'll flirt with anyone. A painful truth that's helped her ignore his beautiful green eyes and warm countenance. 

---

Laying on her back in the snow drawing her last breaths now she wishes she could see those eyes one more time as her vision begins to blur. The blue sky swirls into the emerald pines, the colours lightened by the soft sunlight. The colours like sea glass make her think of him and tears begin to gather behind her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she wants to say but only a pathetic whimper leaves her. She wonders if she would have been kinder to him if she had known she was going to die. Would she have been more honest with her feelings? Or pushed them down deeper in some foolish attempt to protect him? The sun continues to rise and she knows he will wake soon. Selfishly, she hopes she’s drifted off before then, unwilling to see him hurting on her behalf. 

---

“Not concussed, but still a pain in my ass,” she had teased him, pushing his hair off his forehead, double-checking for any wounds. He took her words as permission to keep moving. Each of them threw a parachute pack over their shoulders and continued their walk northeast through the woods. 

By 1900 hours the sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and the sky above turned a deep blue dotted by tiny spangling stars. Breathtaking and brilliant it had been easy to forget, just for a moment, where they were. She slung the chute of her shoulders towards the ground hissing at the movement. She hadn't had the time to check herself over. Best case her ribs were bruised, at worst she'd find out they were broken, and there would be nothing to help her until they had access to a medical bay anyway. 

“Are you sure you're okay, Angel?” Hangman asked, using her call sign letting her know he meant business. He was not asking as a friend, he was asking as her teammate. 

“Yes,” she lied. The pain was tolerable, only worsening with sharp or sudden movement. Nothing she couldn't handle, and nothing she would force Jake to worry about. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn't be opposed to stripping you down to check for injuries,” his flirtations softened the conversation in an attempt to get her to tell him the truth. 

“In your dreams,” she responded instead, moving along the base of a nearby tree in hopes of gathering some firewood and kindling.

“Quite frequently, actually,” the wink he shot her way repeats in her head even now piercing through the fourth wall of the masquerade they had built, an honest and boyish confirmation that their feelings for each other were something beyond friendship. 

The plethora of fresh fallen snow meant finding water wasn't an issue of concern. Finding food would be more difficult and that first night under the stars they sat watching the flickering flames of the fire they had built, their empty stomachs rumbling with nothing to fill them. 

Stretched between two trees, one of the parachutes they liberated from their wreck was used as a windscreen, protecting them from the cold. The second one lay draped around their shoulders as an extra layer. 

Proximity wasn't an issue for them. They had spent enough time in cramped cockpits together to be familiar with the sounds of each other breathing. They had sat shoulder to shoulder in briefings enough time that she had memorized the smell of his cologne. And yet, when he put his arm around her to pull her closer in their makeshift cocoon her heart stuttered. How could his hands be so strong when her own wouldn't stop shaking? How could a simple touch warm her from the inside out? His fingers brushed along her side with no real pressure, but still prompted a gasp to escape her. Tears left glass trails on her cheeks in the firelight. 

She tried to turn away from him, to feign sleep but he wouldn't have it. “Hey,” Jake caught her attention, waiting for her to look at him before he continued, “We're going to be okay”. 

She believed him. 

---

Everything about their uniforms has been painstakingly designed to keep them safe. 100% cotton undershirts and pants because the material won't melt to their skin in the event of a cockpit fire. But the surprisingly soft base layers have never stopped the blaze burning inside her. From the moment she laid eyes on Jake Seresin she knew he'd be the beginning and the end of everything. He pushed people away with his cocky attitude, somehow convinced that his refusal to be vulnerable would keep him safe from forming meaningful bonds; that he might get further ahead if he had fewer people to let down. But, he'd let her in. He'd let her break down his walls and climb over the fences he'd tried to put up. She'd held him when he got the news his father had died. On a ship thousands of miles from his home he'd told her about his brother dying when he was a child, and growing up in his shadow. He told her how badly he wanted to make his parents proud and how lonely he had made himself in the process. He'd kissed her forehead as they parted that night, and her world changed forever. 

What had been an embarrassing schoolgirl crush she couldn’t shake had become a push-and-pull relationship neither of them could do without. She knew how to put him in his place when he took a joke too far. He knew how to goad her into showing everyone what she was capable of, refusing to let her slip into the background when he knew she deserved more. 

Two sides of the same coin, they were joined a the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”. She wishes she would have said it. Lying at death’s door she remembers being told that you often regret the things you haven’t done more than you regret the things you did. “I’m in love with you, Jake Seresin,” she whispers to the wind. 

---

Their second day of walking was far more painful than the first. Jake had startled himself awake, his eyes wild as he fought to remember where it was they had ended up. The acceptance of their reality hadn't seemed to comfort him and he grew uncharacteristically quiet as they packed up their makeshift camp. The pine trees towering above them had been kind enough to shed some of their cones while they had lay sleeping in shifts. Though they hadn't offered many, they were able to harvest a handful of pine nuts between the two of them for breakfast. It was nowhere near a meal, but the snack had managed to quiet their angry stomachs for a few minutes.

The ache in her side had grown to become a constant agony. What had started as a negligible strain was now a torment that threatened to collapse her with each footfall. Despite the subzero temperatures, a sweat had broken out across her brow, and the heat spreading up the back of her neck left her wanting to strip off her cold weather jacket and flight suit. 

“Have you ever had rabbit?” Jake asked around noon. His footsteps had slowed enough for her to catch up with him. His voice had startled her after all the silence. 

“I can't say that I have,” she answered. A gunshot pulled her from her thoughts and she realized she hadn't ever answered out loud. Jake stood a few feet ahead of her, his service pistol in his hand. The world around her was spinning. The trees blurring together as a sudden wave of nausea filled her. She could hear her name being called; muffled and distorted. Jake. His face soon filled her line of vision. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he told her, but her mind still struggled to put the pieces together. For a moment it felt like she was underwater, all her breath gone from her lungs and all she could feel was the scalding pain burning from the inside out. Momentarily she entertained the idea that it was her who had been shot until she spotted the rabbit lying lifeless in the snow. 

“We need to eat,” Jake spoke again, “you're going quiet on me and I don't like that-- we’ll get some energy in you again before we keep moving”.

The very idea of eating anything threatened to leave her dry-heaving, but she took advantage of the moment to rest. He didn't mention her lack of assistance building a fire or preparing the rabbit, but she watched with incredible focus his hands moving with precision and surprising gentleness for the task at hand. 

She can recall him telling her stories about his childhood, standing on step stools to reach the countertop in his mother's kitchen rolling out pie crusts and later on slicing apples. He once told her that it was his mother who had taught him patience and gratitude while they baked together; two traits he had neglected to exhibit far too often in his adult life. 

She listened to him thank the rabbit for its life as he cut away pieces to feed to her. There was an unmistakable love in the way he moved, his eyes cast over his shoulder to check on her. Slowly, she realized that she was not doing a good job hiding her suffering. In a fleeting thought, she imagined Jake having to carry her lifeless body for the rest of their journey. In their line of work, it had never been considered morbid to have funeral plans from a young age. Flying with him for years she had learned to trust him implicitly, despite the call sign he'd earned and worked tirelessly to recover from she knew early on that he'd do right by her. Challenging authority, but always following the rules; complete and unwavering dedication to whatever task he had at hand; precision and perfection in the execution of his duties be it laundry or taking down a fighter jet midair. As her energy continued to leave her she took comfort in knowing her life would be in Hangman's hands. 

“I'm not hungry,” she said to him. 

“You need to eat,” he insisted again but didn't push any farther. With a longanimity he forgot he possessed, and a magnanimity he couldn't credit himself for carrying he cared for her; making the executive decision to make camp early as her seemingly catatonic state worsened. She managed to chew and swallow bites of the gamey meat, her body grateful for the nutrition.  

Night fell too soon after and the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustle of creatures that may have been lurking left both of them far more on edge than they had been the night before. 

“Scoot closer,” she whispered to him, and he complied without complaint. Neither of them was warm, but their proximity to the fire helped them imagine they could be. His shoulder bumped hers and she leaned her head against him. “Put your arm around me?” She asked. He complied again this time with more hesitation. 

“You know if you wanted to snuggle with me you could've just said so,” he teased though she could tell his heart wasn't in it. 

“I'm scared,” she confessed, a half-truth. She was terrified, feeling her heart rate starting to slow by the minute, her vision slipping in and out of focus. 

“We're going to make it home,” he whispered, both arms wrapped around her now, his lips pressed to her hairline. Tears blurred in her eyes and she gave up fighting back a sob, body shaking and heartbreaking. “I won't let anything happen to you,” he said so sincerely. She cried harder knowing she had already broken that promise for him. 

She had realized she'd lost feeling in her fingers and toes when he'd begun to trace shapes on her back. Her digits buzzed with needles and pins and her limbs had began to feel heavy. Bile rose in her throat choking her as she scrambled to get her distance before dinner made a reappearance. Jake didn't make a fuss, or make his worry known, but she could tell that her perturbation had begun to seep beneath his calm, cool, mien. His hand shook as he rubbed her back hoping her coughing fit might free her off the anxiety and discomfort that had overtaken her. 

She can remember almost every time Jake Seresin has touched her. The memories float suspended in golden warmth, kept safe from the things theyve done, and the things they’ve seen. She holds those moments of fleeting, passing goodness, near to her heart. The smallest reminders that Hangman has a heart; and it’s full of love to give, and on some occasions, she has allowed herself to believe she could be worthy of that love. 

He used to sit beside her in the mess hall no matter how many seats were available; his broad shoulders bumping her own, his elbow knocking at her ribs, their hands brushing as he slid his mashed potatoes onto her plate and she slid her green beans onto his. Silent and symbiotic in their bond, determined to look out for one another. 

The first New Year's Eve they were able to spend together off base was spent with as many friends as possible and too much liquor to handle. Neither of them got a midnight kiss because she was spilling her guts in the alleyway behind the bar, Jake by her side saying “I told you not to do shots after drinking a glass of wine”.  But his satisfied smirk was overshadowed by the genuine concern in his eyes and the steady warm hand he'd placed on her back. “There you go, you'll feel better once you get it all out”. He was drunk himself, his words half slurred but no less encouraging. She had thought then that he was seeing her at her worst. She knows now that she was wrong. 

By some miracle they had been deployed together more often than not. At first it was pure coincidence, but over time it became clear that together they were a dynamic duo with a combined force and efficiency they're commanding officers could not deny, and were often interested in capitalizing on. They had become two halves of a whole, a packaged pair anyone would be disinclined to separate. Still, they had not been permitted to bunk together, and neither of them had ever been interested in breaking the rules of the institution so they never pushed it. But on nights when the creaks and groans of the 900,000 pound ship kept her awake, and the rocking of the waves around them was too much to ignore she knew she'd be able to find him lurking around the corridors as well.

 “I couldn't sleep,” she'd say. “Me neither,” he'd respond. Sometimes, when the world felt too heavy on his shoulders and they'd been away from home for too long they'd find their way to the floor together, his back pressed to hers, their arms circling their knees, and he'd sync his breathing to hers convincing himself that so long as she was their he had some piece of his real life with him. A part of Jake Seresin that wasn't just a pawn in battles bigger than him, he was a man with thoughts and feelings, and dreams outside of his role worth achieving. 

---

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

The parachute that isn't being used to block the wind is still draped over the two of them and she hopes it keeps Jake warm until he wakes. His walk to the base will take him longer now dragging her weight behind him, he'll need his sleep. 

She lets the sound of the wind lull her and she finds that she's not afraid anymore. Just sad; angry even; but not afraid. Her pain is excruciating, and she’s honestly welcoming the relief of a permanent slumber. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The wind gusts come steadily, growing louder and ever closer. 

Jake stirs beneath her, sitting up her head falling to his lap. “Well would you look at that! No more walking for us,” he grins. Her eyes have shut but she can hear it in his voice, the boy like wonder bursting  the surface. “Angel, wake up,” he shakes her shoulder. The joy that had filled him moments ago has been replaced with a more serious tone, “they sent a chopper for us, honey,” he says, shaking her again, “you've gotta get up,” he pleads with her, but she cannot answer him. His hand is surprisingly warm on the side of her face, and the world goes dark and silent. 

Death is softer than she expected. It's dark still, but her head is resting on something plush, and there's a feel of woven fabric at her fingertips, it reminds her of the blanket Jake's mom had sent to her last Christmas. Her back and her legs feel stiff and she makes no attempt to move them uninterested in exploring this darken world she's found herself in. Her ribs ache but far less than they did back in the snow, the pinch she feels with each breath is like an echoed sound, a pallid reminder of her last moments. 

There's a humming; a mellifluous tune. It drifts in and out, bookended by murmuring she cannot decipher. Come back to me. The words become clear. Angel. Guilt fills her, petulant and helpless as emotion overwhelms her. She wants to move towards the voice, to apologize for leaving but she's not sure she can. I need you honey. 

Jake. Oh, it's so clear now. Jake. 

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” Jake's hands brace her shoulder, and just above her knee willing her to stop flailing her panicked limbs. Her eyes shoot open to meet his; golden green and brimming with tears she wishes she had the strength to stop. The insistent beeping that had filled the room quiets as she relaxes back into the pillows. 

The Navy infirmary isn't anything fancy, but it's far more comfortable than the nights she spent with her back up against the bark of a tree. She has so many questions but they fade out of her mind as quickly as they spark in. Blips of clarity overriden by the need to speak to Jake who is looking at her with more wonder than she's even seen. The man has seen the world from 40,000 feet but he's looking at her like she hung his stars in the sky. 

“Jake,” she manages. 

“Yeah, Angel”. 

Her throat feels like sandpaper, her voice scratchy and raw with disuse, but she fights through it, 

“I'm in love with you,” she says, sucking in a breath that makes her cough. Her lungs feel like they're on fire and she works desperately to inhale and exhale as the ache in her side is reawaken. 

Jake offers her water that manages to swallow down, and when she takes a few shaky breaths without wincing, he sets the paper cup aside. 

She gives him a gentle nod, refusing to meet his gaze. He doesn't let it slide, his forefinger tilting her chin up so she can't hide from him. She envies his confidence, his ability to simplify a scenario. 

“I'm in love with you,” he tells her too.