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seospicybin · 9 months

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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Minho are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (7,2k words)

Author's note: Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy my gift to you ❤️

HOST: Welcome to the Too Hot To Handle reunion! Today, we're going to get all the updates on your favorite couples and what happens once they return to the real world. And I know, you're all dying to know if the couples are still together or not but in the meantime, let's find out if our sexy group of people remember all the times they broke the rules.

AGNES: Uh, I did a lot [cringes]

LUCA: I wish I had broken more rules. [Laughs]

YOU: The kiss Agnes and I did with Jack.

JAI: [Counts with fingers] There's just a lot of 'em.

BRYAN: Uhm... I'm the accountant, remember?

MINHO: The sex?

YOU: Then I broke more rules with Minho.

AGNES: Oh, the kiss with Jack!

JACK: Just once but I kissed the two hottest girls in the retreat [grins]

HOST: Here's the couple who broke half of those rule breaks and managed to win the show. Welcome back, lovebirds!

MINHO: [Waves hand]

YOU: Hi, gorgeous! [Smiles]

HOST: You guys won. Congratulations! [Claps]

YOU: Thanks, girl!

MINHO: Thank you.

HOST: So, what are you guys doing with the money? Are you guys sharing it? Or maybe... saving it for the wedding? [Chuckles]

MINHO: I make her keep all the money.

YOU: He insists that I handle it.

HOST: Uh-oh. I sense something wrong. What is it? Tell us all about it...

MINHO: [Shrugs]

YOU: Ugh!

MINHO: We were supposed to go on this trip together.

YOU: [rolls eyes]

HOST: Girl, I can see you holding back. Spill!

YOU: [Sighs] Well, since I'm taking care of the money, I thought it would be nice to go on a trip together with the money we've won. On the day we were supposed to leave, we had an argument so yeah...

HOST: Oh, no [frowns]

YOU: I booked the flights, the Airbnb... I have to cancel all of that because he canceled last minute like... [exhales air]

HOST: Minho, you want to add to that?

MINHO: That's all true. We argued on the day of the flight and I canceled.

YOU: And I texted him, you know, he could have still come, we could sort things out face to face but no, he didn't reply to any of my texts.

HOST: If I were you, I would have still gone on that vacation.

YOU: Honestly, I was looking forward to that trip, I want to spend time with him and have fun... [sighs] I was a little heartbroken by that.

HOST: Just to clarify... are you still together or not?

YOU: I'm just going to let it out of my chest that I... I will always have love for Minho and I support him, I'll always be attracted to him. I—

HOST: I'm sorry, girl but you have to hold it right there and we'll get back to you later.

HOST: If there's one thing that the villa proves is that people are complicated and one person knows this more than most... it's Zara!

ZARA: [Blows kisses] Hi, hello! That's actually the nicest way to put it, it's complicated [laughs]

HOST: Let me tell you, I was sad to see you got eliminated [pouts]

ZARA: Aww... but that's the thing, I came home not feeling sad at all, and to feel that, I usually have to go out with friends and have a few drinks. But I was sitting at my home thinking of what Lana taught me and what I'd learned... [smiles] It was all a good life lesson.

HOST: What made you feel that way about your elimination?

ZARA: I don't know, I woke up feeling like I learned enough in the retreat, obviously, I didn't want to keep hurting myself and get myself into more drama... [inhales] it's for the best.

HOST: Are you seeing anyone at the moment?

ZARA: Yeah and he's amazing, he's sweet and fun and he's just as obsessed with me as I do for him [chuckles]

HOST: I love that, yeah. You just feel like want to eat him, right?

ZARA: [Laughs]

HOST: But in regards to what happened to you and Bryan, have you spoken to each other ever since? Are you on good terms?

ZARA: He sent me some texts once the show ended but that's just that [thinly smiles] let's just leave it at that.

HOST: It was fun catching up with you but I have to go and talk to Agnes and Jai.

ZARA: Send my love for them [Blows kisses]

HOST: And I am sending you my love. Cheers, babe!

HOST: I cannot wait to find out if they're still horny for each other, it's one of my favorite couples, Jai and Agnes!

AGNES: Hi, hi! [Makes smooching sounds]

JAI: G'day! [Grins]

HOST: I never knew I missed that grin of yours, Jai! [Chuckles]

JAI: I know [grins] I'm doing it for you.

HOST: Shush it, boy! Your girl is here!

AGNES: I'm very aware of how flirtatious my man could be. But I'm watching you [squints eyes]

JAI: [Holds both hands up]

HOST: Tell us what happened after the show. Are you guys still naughty and horny?

JAI: Oh, yes.

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: She stayed with me for a while, back when I was still having a roommate and he asked me if we were alright. We kept going at it that it concerned him.

AGNES: Oh, my God!

HOST: Oh! You two are just so passionate [laughs]

AGNES: [Nods] [giggles]

JAI: We are!

HOST: Now, for the most important question, are you guys still together or not?

JAI: We had a little break then we just kind of... found a way back to each other.

AGNES: [smiles] We are still together. Yay!

HOST: Oh, thank Goodness!

JAI: A month ago, is it? We took a trip together and eventually met her sister and her family.

AGNES: It was unplanned! [Laughs] [shows hand] There's no ring yet, everyone.

HOST: Jai? Any plans to put a ring on it then?

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: Uh... to be continued?

HOST: It's been lovely, you guys. I hope you two stay happy.

AGNES: And horny?

HOST: Yes [laughs] Thank you and see you [blows kisses]

HOST: Before we get to the final interview, the guests are sharing their best moments in the villa.

AGNES: Oddly enough, I missed the dressing room, I guess that's because we gossip so much in there [giggles]

JACK: The kiss, obviously [laughs]

LUCA: The first party in the villa. That was... just wild and so much fun.

MAISIE: The final date I had with Luca was just romantic, probably the nicest date I ever had.

YOU: It's all the times Sabine and I hang out in the pool. Then there's also the time when Minho said he likes me, with the cushion and everything [laughs] that was just so special.

BRYAN: Just having with the guys, I guess, we were fooling around a lot, just lots of laughs.

HOST: Finally, we have come to the most awaited moment. Let me take a deep breath first [inhales] [exhales] Okay, we're ready now.

YOU: Where were we? [Laughs]

MINHO: The canceled trip and you were sad about it.

YOU: Yes, that... we had arguments like that not once or twice, I think that's just our love language [laughs]

HOST: That's kind of sexy, actually.

YOU: At that time, I just knew I had to be the one putting on the big girl pants, again [rolls eyes] if he didn't want to come to me then I'll just come to him.

HOST: Oh, my God! Is it like one of those movie scenes where the girl chasing the guy—

YOU: yeah, it's pretty much like that but the problem was... it was around Christmas and you know how hard it is to get a flight during holidays, it was a nightmare but I went through all that to see him.

HOST: And...?

YOU: It was cold and snowing, I dragged behind me, and knocked on his door, expecting that his face would light up when he saw me...

HOST: Oh, no, I sense a 'but' coming...

MINHO: I was just telling you to stop knocking [shrugs]

YOU: That's what he did, he scolded me for knocking on his door.

HOST: It keeps getting worse... I don't think I want to hear the rest.

MINHO: We're still together, we made up that day.

HOST: Oh, thank you Minho. I was close to having a cardiac arrest [clutches chest]

YOU: [Smiles] I didn't mean to scare anyone, sorry. We're still together, we still argue sometimes but we're still together, thank God!

HOST: That's good to hear so what are the plans now? Besides trying to be civil with each other [laughs]

YOU: Oh, before I forget, Minho also said the L word that day [giggles]

HOST: What? How could you hide it from it?

YOU: We were exchanging Christmas presents and he casually dropped the L bomb.

MINHO: Casually?

YOU: Honey... [laughs] I didn't say I don't like it. See? [Sighs] We need a couple counseling.

HOST: That's not a bad idea [chuckles]

YOU: I think it was special that there were only the two of us, it was intimate and heartfelt, and it couldn't be more perfect [smiles]

HOST: Minho, that... I didn’t know you were such a gentle guy.

MINHO: I've been meaning to say it, I just... didn't have the right time to say it.

YOU: Because we're always arguing.

HOST: [Laughs] I love that you guys complete each other's sentences.

YOU: I know, that's why I love us. That, and also because the make-up sex is just... [moans] [thumbs up]

HOST: Ugh, okay, you got me jealous now. I'll leave you two back to arguing then [laughs] Best wishes to you two, my loves! [Blows kisses]

HOST: It's been a blast catching up with all the casts of Too Hot To Handle Season 2. Thank you so much for watching, see you next time!

LAST CHRISTMAS

"I don't chase, I attract."

You say those words out loud and manifest them to the world when you meditate in the morning but here you are, getting off the plane to chase a guy who canceled your planned trip at the last minute and not replying to your calls or texts.

You might have attracted him but nobody tells you that you have to chase him around too.

The layers of clothes that should have shielded you from the cold only make your body hot and soon drenched in sweat.

Why there are so many stairs? Why Minho has to live up on the hill? Why is your suitcase so heavy? Why did you pack so many clothes? Why are you here at all?

Despite the fatigue that slowly taking over you, you manage to conquer the last flight of stairs and arrive at his house.

After hours of bustling through the airport and the traffic, not to mention, dragging your luggage through the street, you're aware of how you look and it's not how you want Minho to see you when he opens the door.

But he should be appreciative of your intentions to come here and surprise him.

Right?

Can't believe you have second thoughts when you're already standing right in front of his door, why couldn't you have these thoughts before you got on the plane?

You throw away your worries and stop thinking altogether, your hands start knocking on the door. Once, twice... no one opens the door.

Oh, God? What if he's not home? What if—

You keep knocking on his door in case he didn't hear you the first two times. Your knocking is almost turning into a banging when he finally pulls the door open.

Minho stands there and looks at you with your hand hanging mid-air.

"You can stop knocking now," he says, scolding you for the aggressive knocking.

You don't expect confetti or cake or grand entrance music, but not this either, just you and him, looking at each other in silence.

Another moment passes and Minho opens the door wider, "Why are you just standing there? It's cold, get in!" He scolds you again.

It's only been a few minutes but he has scolded you twice already and weirdly, you obey him, getting into his house, pulling your luggage behind you.

Something is beeping from inside the house and Minho runs to check it, you allow yourself to go further inside. You take off your coat and purse, putting them on top of your suitcase before continuing to look around his house.

It's not small, not big either and it's obvious that he keeps it tidy and clean. You expect nothing less than that.

It's like seeing a movie scene, except that it's real. Minho looks exceptionally gorgeous in his dark sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and one hand that is busy stirring something in a pot.

"Go wash your hands!" He orders.

You're too deep in your daydream to listen to him the first time and only get what he said the second time.

"Dinner is almost ready," he adds, closing the pot with a lid and then turning off the stove.

"Where's the—"

"The door behind you," he answers your unfinished question.

You're too tired to bicker with him and the smell of the soup he's cooking is appetizing, making your stomach rumbling in hunger.

Is it why Minho is not that happy to see you? You look horrible with your eyes looking dark and heavy with exhaustion, your hair is greasy and stuck to your forehead.

There's no time to dig into your suitcase to get your toiletry bag so you do everything to make yourself look presentable, wash your face, and brush your hair with your fingers, hoping that it's enough for now.

Minho has already set everything on the dining table when you return from the bathroom, looking at the food he's serving, your stomach is getting impatient on being filled with some home-cooked meals.

"This looks good," you say, taking a seat on the dining table.

He doesn't say anything to your compliment but goes to the kitchen to bring back a pitcher of water, then sits opposite you.

Minho immediately starts digging into his food and as much as you want to do the same, you're hoping to hear something from him other than commands.

"Do you perhaps... want to say something to me?" You carefully say.

He continues eating, taking a few things from different plates and eating them with a spoonful of rice.

"Like... 'oh, what a nice surprise!' or 'I'm happy to see you, honey'," you recite a few lines you wished to hear him saying yet he seems to enjoy his food too much to pay attention to what you're saying.

You softly sigh and pick up your spoon, "A hug would be nice," you mumble.

He glances up from his bowl of rice and looks at you, "You must be hungry. Eat!"

You cave in, obeying him again, and eat the food just like he ordered. Maybe because you were hungry, you feel less upset now that your stomach is filled.

You help with the dishes after dinner, drying your hands with a towel once you're finished then refill your glass with more red wine before leaning against the counter, watching Minho slicing up fruits, he looks so relaxed but maybe because he's in his element, in his own place.

"You're different at home," you mutter, then take a small sip of your wine.

He glances at you for a second before focusing back on the task in hand, the hand gripping the knife showcasing the evident veins on his forearm.

"Off-guard," you point out.

He pauses cutting an apple then looks at you, "Should I be on guard?"

To other people, Minho may seem like he's trying to pick a fight with you but that's just how he communicates, a bit snarky with a whole lot of nonchalance in it.

It's a good thing that you've been with him long enough to know how to handle him. You put your wine glass away and smile, "You're the one holding a knife, I should be the one on guard."

He smirks hearing your words and it took you this long to make him do that.

"So... will you put the knife down so you can kiss your girlfriend who came all the way to see you?" You sweetly ask, tilting your head to the side and batting your eyelashes at him even though you're not sure these flirting tricks would work on him.

You see that he loosens the grip around the knife and you come closer to him, "That's it, easy, easy..." you playfully say.

You take his other hand and let the knife drop onto the cutting board, turning him to face you. Holding his eyes in a gaze, you slide your hands up his arms then reunite them on the nape of his neck.

"I missed you," you softly mutter but your heart is close to shattering.

"So much," you say all of those words out while deeply looking into his dark brown eyes as they stare down into yours.

"Do you miss me?"

Minho hates it when you're insecure like this but you can't help it, it's just happens when you care so much about someone so let's hope he still knows that.

Then he leans in and kisses you, answering your question with a fiery kiss that melts your worries away until the only thing that remains is the warm feeling he brings with those lips.

When he pulls away, you forget the reason why you ever doubted him.

He then rests his hand on your back, he then slowly and deliberately blinks his eyes before saying, "I missed you too."

It's nice to hear that you're not the only one suffering from the longing. You smile knowing that he thought of you when you weren't here with him even though you're sure not as many times as you thought of him.

"Okay, good, the feeling is still mutual," you awkwardly say with a dry chuckle.

What can you say? Dating Minho is not for the faint of heart, it takes a lot of patience and courage, and it takes... a lot of things.

But is he worth it? The answer is Minho worth everything and more.

The shower helps you get rid of the stress that’s been clinging onto you and you come out refreshed, not feeling tired at all. If anything, you feel excited to spend the rest of the night with Minho, catching up on a lot of things.

Before that, you make yourself presentable this time, putting on your night dress and drying your hair real quick. You notice the toiletry bag Minho brought to the villa is on the sink and it seems like he packed it recently. You shrug it off, keeping your skincare routine brief, impatiently wanting to join Minho on his bed.

On your way to the bedroom, you also notice that he packed a suitcase in his closet, you wonder if he’s planning to go somewhere soon.

Minho is sitting on his bed reading a book, doing it so elegantly like he’s in a furniture TV ad.

“Are you going somewhere?” You get on the bed and lay on your stomach facing him.

“Huh?” He asks without looking away from his book.

You peek over to see the book he’s reading, from the cover you can see that it’s either a mystery, thriller, or horror book, it could be all of that combined.

“I saw your suitcase, packed,” you tell him.

He lowers his book to look at you, “unpacked, you mean,” he says.

Ah, that explains it but looking at how he keeps his things in his house tidy, there’s no way he lets his things stay in his suitcase for too long.

“You should dry your hair. You’ll catch a cold,” he says nonchalantly yet oozing with affection.

This is why you love him, he’s hot and cold, always keeping you on your toes, dating him is one endless thrilling ride.

“I just didn’t dry the end,” you tell him.

The talk about the suitcase reminds you of something. You roll over to the side of the bed and open your suitcase, taking two gift boxes you actually prepared for tomorrow. You bring them over to the bed, sitting next to Minho and place the smaller box first onto his lap.

“Merry Christmas,” You say with a bright smile on your face.

Minho raises an eyebrow at you then glares down at the gift on his lap, “What is it?”

“Your Christmas present from me,” you simply answer.

He seems way too calm for someone who receives a gift from his girlfriend and not sure you’re going to get used to this.

“Open it!” you impatiently say because he keeps observing the box and doing nothing to find out what’s inside.

He finally takes the lid off and sees the bracelet inside. You’re smiling as he takes it out to observe it. You hurriedly help him putting it around his wrist.

“Do you like it?” You ask once you clasped the ends together.

“Did you buy it with the prize money?” He asks with a sly grin.

Why he’s making it hard for you? You must admit that Minho makes you realize that you have a lot of patience in you. You take a deep, deep sigh and put on a big smile for him.

“I’m glad you like it and you’re very welcome,“ you respond, not going to make this supposed-to-be-a-heartfelt-moment into an argument.

It’s time to hand him the second box, instead of putting it on his lap, you drop it right on his crotch as a way to get back to him. He doesn’t flinch but pulls the box closer to his chest before opening it. You put your hand on top of the lid, stopping him from opening it.

“It’s not for you,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Then why did you give it to me?”

“Because I know you don’t have a Christmas present prepared for me so I got you one,” you explain.

It takes him a moment to process your words, “So, you bought this for me to gift to you?”

“Yes,” you answer without a beat.

He bursts into laughter and the box is shaking along with his body as he laughs, “So it- this one for you?”

You take the box from him and smile at him, “Thank you for the present, honey,” you say, then place a quick peck on his lips.

You put on an act, pretending not to know what’s inside the box and slowly uncovering it, taking the lid off with low exciting squeals coming out of your parted mouth. You tear through the wrapping paper and gasp at the sight of the content.

“Oh, my God! Honey…” You coo at him.

You take the pair of lingerie out of the box and show it to him, “This is so beautiful!” You exclaim with excitement even though you were the one who bought it.

“You like it?” He’s slyly smiling as he asks you.

“Are you kidding me? I love it!” You dramatically ask, clutching the gift close to your chest.

You lean in close and tilt your head to the side, “Ugh! You know me so well,” You sneer, then peck his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” He coyly asks.

You put everything into the box and sigh, “I wanted to put them on and show them to you but…”

You put the lid back onto the box, excessively raising your shoulders, and slump them down as you let out another dramatic sigh, “I’m not in the mood.”

Minho snorts and puts away the boxes, stacking them on the bedside table, “Yeah, you’d better rest, you must be tired.”

And Minho always picks the worst time to be considerate towards you, you roll your eyes and stomp your feet as you walk back to your suitcase, tossing the lingerie into your suitcase and angrily shut it.

“But if you’re not tired, I would love to see you in them,” he says with a devilish smile dancing on his beautiful face.

Hate that you melt right away to his sweet consolidation, your foot is tapping the floor as you pretend to consider his request.

“Well… if you insist,” you say, grabbing the lingerie back from your suitcase.

You’re giggling as you walk to Minho’s closet, changing out of your night dress and putting the lingerie on. As you’re changing, you see Minho’s backpack sitting next to his “unpacked” suitcase. You don’t mean to snoop but it’s open, you can see what’s inside. Using your fingers, you pry it open wider and see that he has a plane ticket clamped between his passport, you reach down to take a look at it when he calls from you from the bedroom.

It feels as if you got caught stealing, you scramble to leave the closet and Minho is putting something into his bedside drawer when you come back. He looks at you, confused to see you standing in a silk robe that comes with the lingerie.

“That’s not the same as what I bought for you,” he playfully says, sitting on the edge of the bed facing you.

You come up to him and stop right in front of him, “Jeez, Minho! You’re not a kid anymore, unwrap your gift yourself,” you tell him with a cheeky smile.

It’s a good thing that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating right now and it’s beating faster when he looks up, staring into your eyes as his hands reach for your silk robe, untying it until they part open.

You do the rest, sliding the silk robe down your arms and letting it fall onto the carpeted floor. You take a final step, closing the gap between you and him.

He places his hands on each side of your waist, his fingers teasing the thin straps of the lacy underwear but his eyes never stray away from yours even for a moment

“So…?” You curiously ask since he’s not saying anything the moment he sees them on you.

He glides his hands up to your back and draws you close until his lips land on your abdomen, inhaling your scent as he kisses it, making you flutter inside. After a while, he glances up at you and says, “Glad I bought it.”

That sends you into a laughing fit and at the same, he pulls you until you both collapse onto the bed.

A breathless gasp escapes your parted mouth as Minho inserts his fingers inside you, he uses two digits to find that spot that makes you let out another gasp, louder, almost inaudible.

He’s hovering above you as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace and his face is so calm, a contrast to your state: a moaning mess under him.

He presses a kiss on you with tongue and teeth clashing in your mouth, his kisses are hungry, it feels as if he wants to eat you whole.

“Oh…” You moan again, feeling his fingers curl inside you.

Minho then drags his mouth down your chest, using his free hand he yanks down the cup of your bra just so he can suck on your nipple and leave it soaked and wet with his saliva. He continues his trail of wet kisses down your body and he stops with his head hanging between your legs, watching your eyes fluttering as he keeps pumping his fingers.

He pulls your underwear to the side and keeps it there, without wasting another second, he plants his mouth on your cunt, not caring how wet it is. He lifts his head for a moment, using the tip of his tongue to trace your folds and gently, circling your clit that is pulsating with so much desire.

Minho dives down into your wetness again and this time, he lands right on your clit and sucks hard on it.

“Oh, fu-“You can’t even finish your profanity, your voice is shaking and so are your legs.

You slip your hands into his hair, tugging at it as he keeps on sucking and it’s a fruitless effort to try to stop him, the more you try, the harder he sucks on your clit and the faster he pumps his fingers, making you overwhelmed with pleasure.

The only conclusion is Minho won’t stop until you

“I’m- oh, I’m cumming…” you whine, helplessly tugging at his hair.

He hovers above you again but now, he slowly puts his body on top of you, pinning you as he presses kisses on your lips, making you dizzy as he can’t stop kissing you until you run out of breath.

“Honey…” you sigh as you gently push his chest away.

You smile at him and put your hand on the back of his head, wanting to keep him close to you. As you catch your breath, you allow yourself to take a moment to enjoy this moment with him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips and then letting out a low sigh as you pull away.

“Gosh…how I missed you!” You pour out all of the emotions you’ve been keeping inside you and seal the hole in your heart with a kiss that yet again, takes your breath away.

It’s time to show him how much your body misses him. You pull the hem of his sweater and take it off of him to continue kissing him. Slowly, you roll him to the side until he lays next to you and overlaps half of his body with yours.

Minho lets you have the pleasure of doing whatever you want to him, he puts his hands over his head as your hand goes lower and slips it under his sweatpants, palming his member before letting it out.

You glance down to see how his cock is hardening in your hand, “Oh, he’s excited to see me,” you playfully mutter to him.

“What are you going to do then?” He coyly asks.

“Mmh…” you delightfully sigh as you pretend to think of an answer all the while your thumb is circling the tip of his cock.

“I just have so many ideas,” you answer him with a seductive tone.

To execute your ideas, you first get rid of his sweatpants then sit on his thick thighs. You seductively smile at him as you take hold of his cock in your hand again, slowly stroking it with your clothed cunt only inches away from it.

You both wanted it but what’s the fun in giving in to the temptations right away?

His cock is swollen and hard, so ready for you and you are just as eager to take him but refrained yourself. Instead of that, you lean down to lick the tip of his cock with your tongue. The second time, you place a lick from the base up to the tip and then stroke it again.

“How you like that?” you tease him.

Minho doesn’t say anything, he remains calm but his body tells you otherwise, not only his cock, his body reddens all over, his chest, his ears, his cheeks… he’s completely turned on.

You tease him by rubbing his cock to your clothed core, “Mmh… yeah,” you hum in pleasure.

To tease him more, you put his cock inside your underwear, soaking it with your essence as you start grinding on him, unknowingly teasing yourself too in the process.

The yes he’s giving you… oh, it’s so intense, so full of lust, he looks at you like you’re the sexiest thing he ever laid his eyes on, making you feel so wanted, and admired. You suddenly feel a charge of confidence surging all over you and you lean down, kissing him with so much passion until you drain all the air in your lungs.

“Screw this!” you mutter.

Carefully, you push his cock inside you and ease yourself down, taking him little by little until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You just sit there to adjust yourself to his size, closing your eyes as your hands start touching yourself.

Minho gets his hands on you too, he places them on your thighs and glides them up the sides of your body. You take his hands, using them to cup your breasts and fondle them together. You’re lowly moaning as he squeezes on them.

Minho only stops just to pull you close so he can kiss you, putting his arms around you to not let you go and without warning, he starts bucking his hips into you. You can tell he’s smirking against your lips while you let out a broken moan.

“That’s not-oh, not fair!” you mumble yet pressing another kiss on him.

Minho insists on you keeping the lingerie on, he ends up being the one taking it off of you and tossing it onto the bedroom floor. He made you climax twice already but Gosh, looking at him passionately making love to you, you can already tell you’re going to climax for the third time.

“Oh, my God! You feel so good,” You murmur into his shoulders with your fingers clawing his back.

Minho crashes his lips on you, deepening his kiss as he thrusts harder into you. He can sense that you’re about to cum again, he adds intensity to his thrusts and goes as shallow as possible.

Your eyes are screwed shut, feeling the knot inside you keep tightening, getting close to your-

Minho slows down, knowing that you just cum around him and the way he kisses, it’s so gentle as if he knows that you’re already overly stimulated.

You hold him close as you come down from your high, returning his kisses while keeping him inside you.

“You’re not going to stop, are you?”

You brush his hair back with your fingers, putting all the hair covering his face and holding his jaw, “Don’t stop, honey,” you whine.

Nothing gets him off than hearing how needy you are for him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and pull him closer, “I don’t want you to stop until you cum inside me,” you whisper into his ear.

That seems to work as planned, Minho picks up the pace of his thrusts, harder and deeper, giving what you both wanted.

You give up on holding in your moans, you let them spill out of your parted mouth and as he gets closer to his release, you press a haste kiss on his mouth.

“Want you to cum inside me, honey,” you whine again.

You have to pause a few times as he mercilessly pulsates his hips against you and the bed creaks along to his movements.

“Oh, please, please!” you sigh.

“Minho, please!”

At this point, you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or keep going, the pain and pleasure start to blur into one. You hold onto his shoulders with fingers digging into this flesh and forming crescent marks on his warm, honey skin.

It takes Minho a few more thrusts to finally cum inside you, releasing all of his seed inside you as he collapses on top of you. You embrace him, holding him with so much love, and kiss him with all of your heart until it quakes inside your chest.

Minho hastily kisses your lips, then drags his mouth close to your ear, you’re already drowsy and tired from the day that you barely can keep your eyes open anymore. You can hear him mutter something into your ear but when you’re about to tell him to repeat it, you fall asleep instead.

"Honey, wake up!"

If it isn't because of the hand squeezing your asscheek, you wouldn't have budged from your sleep. When you try to open your eyes, they are heavy and you feel like taking another hour of sleep.

Then Minho bites at your arm, making you jolt on your bed in reaction.

"Minho!" You sharply gasp.

"Wake up!" He says again, now slapping at your ass cheek.

Your feet are kicking the duvet as you whine like a fussy kid, "It's too early."

You turn over on the bed, lying on your side to face him, and croak, "What time is it?"

"One."

"One a.m?"

Minho presses a kiss on your shoulder then gets up from the bed, "Come on, wake up!"

He walks out of the bedroom and leaves the door ajar. You force yourself away and rub your eyes before opening them.

The daylight is almost blinding you and you immediately shut your eyes again, scooting to the side and your hand reaches for your phone on the bedside table.

You tap the screen until it lights up, showing you that it's indeed one o'clock in the afternoon. You must be tired from the flights, dragging your suitcase up the hill in the cold, and then there was the sex, a lot of sex. You remember how you passed out not long after he cum inside you.

Oh no, you missed the whole Christmas morning and that's not the plan. You thought of how nice it would be to snuggle together with Minho on the sofa while having hot chocolate on Christmas morning.

Instead of that, you stand in front of the sink and feel horrified to see your reflection in the mirror, how tired and miserable you look after ten hours of sleep.

Instead of wearing your clothes, you stop by his closet and borrow one of his comfiest knitted sweaters. His suitcase and his backpack are still there, you assume he didn't know you were snooping into his stuff.

Well, there's another reason to snoop in further to see where he's going with the flight ticket. You check for the situation first and waddle back inside, taking his passport out of the bag.

Minho looks so hot even on a government-issued ID photo and before you forget the main goal here, you flip it open to see the details of his flight ticket and you see it.

Unless he has someone else to see in the city you live in, you can safely assume that he planned on coming to see you too, and probably wants to spend the new year with you.

"I knew it!" You exclaim to yourself with a giddy smile on your face.

You wanted to remain calm and pretend that you didn't see the flight ticket and everything but... you can't help but smile when you see him sipping his coffee in the kitchen.

Minho is what people say as one with the softest heart builds the hardest shell. He acts cold, nonchalant, and a bit mean, but that's how you know he really cares for you, and he's genuine and sincere about you.

You come up to him and throw your arms around him, not wasting time kissing his lips, putting all of your affection into this long kiss, and pull away with a gasp.

"Merry Christmas," you happily say to him.

Minho smiles and returns the kiss with a quick peck on your lips, "Coffee?"

You eagerly nod and you wait on the sofa, taking a cookie out of a plate full of them, watching the snow floating in the air through the window.

"Thank you," you mutter as he hands you your cup of steaming hot coffee.

"This is good," you tell him, taking another cookie from the plate.

"I made them," he casually says like he didn't put any effort into baking such delicious cookies.

Minho is good at a lot of things so when he said he made these cookies, you didn't doubt him even for a second.

You place a kiss on his cheek, "These are really good," you tell him again.

You might have missed the Christmas morning but there's always a time to snuggle close to him. It's quiet and warm, it's such a nice moment and to be able to spend it with him is one that you're most grateful for.

Suddenly, Minho takes something from the end of the sofa and shows it to you.

"For you?"

You stop chewing your cookie and put the rest away, "For me?"

He nods and coyly sips his coffee, watching you excitedly unwrapping the gift to find out what's inside.

You gasp as you see a necklace inside, white gold with a small pendant, delicate and beautiful.

"I love it," you tell him with a gleeful smile.

It's always the thoughts that counts. The fact that he thought of you when he picked this gift worth more than the gift itself.

"You should be. I bought it with my own money," he pokes fun at you.

You pout at him, handing him the box so he can put it on for you. You hold all of your hair up in your hands as he puts the necklace around your neck, safely clasping the ends together.

"I love it," you mutter again, letting go of your hair so you can bring his head close and give him a sweet little kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," you say as you break the kiss with a soft caress on his cheek.

He smiles and places a kiss on your cheek, then your jaw. When you think he's going to kiss your neck next, he brings his mouth close to your ear, and ever so softly he murmurs, "I love you."

Your heart shrinks and the next second, it expands twice its size, overflowing with warm feelings. You feel like flying, riding on the clouds of those three words.

"What did you say?" You ask with a foolish smile on your face.

He slyly smiles and sips his coffee, "You heard," he says.

"I heard but..." you lean in close to his side and hold his hand, "can you say it one more time?"

Your sweet smile and the fondness in your eyes are not enough to make him cave in. You should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

You pout and then sigh, but you feel the need to return those words to him. It's not because you have to, but you have known for a while that he is not just a passing fancy, you see a future with him, and as silly as it sounds, you can see yourself growing old with him.

What you have for him is real and it's powerful, it's taking over you.

You hold his jaw and turn his head to look at you, you lean in close until your noses meet in the middle, softly you nuzzle them together while softly smiling at him.

"I love you," you say back with all of your heart that it aches.

Then you place your lips against him and let your heart pour out, flowing all of your emotions into the kiss.

When you open your eyes, his eyes are staring straight into yours. He holds your gaze and lovingly, he says those three words again for you.

"I love you."

And in his eyes, you find comfort, safety, you find a home you want to live in, forever.

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thetriumphantpanda · 11 months

Text

I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike

Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader

Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.

Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)

Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.

Divider by the amazing @saradika

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.

“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.

“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.

There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.

He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.

Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.

“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”

Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”

The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.

“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”

You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”

Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.

“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”

Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”

It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.

“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.

You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”

Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.

Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.

“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.

“A few weeks, probably.”

“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.

And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.

It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.

“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.

You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”

And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”

When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.

“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.

“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”

You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.

“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.

“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.

“That’ll be a no then.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“You look well.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.

“So do you.” You compliment back.

There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”

“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”

He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”

You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.

“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”

“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.

“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.

“Second.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.

“Which room?”

It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.

It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.

He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.

Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.

“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”

“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.

Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.

A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”

You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”

“And if I asked you not to?”

“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”

You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”

You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.

So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”

“Good girl.”

It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.

His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.

Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.

Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.

He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.

“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.

“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”

He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.

Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”

Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.

“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”

So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.

“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”

“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”

And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.

“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.

“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”

He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.

“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.

“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.

“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”

Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.

He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.

“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”

It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.

Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.

“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”

“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”

She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”

There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.

“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”

She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.

“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.

“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”

When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.

“I’ve been looking at you.”

“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”

“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”

He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.

Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.

Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”

“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”

His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.

“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.

“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”

“Always, Marcus.”

He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.

Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”

He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.

“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”

“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.

It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.

“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you want?”

“Make me come?”

You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.

“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”

You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.

You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.

“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”

“Please, Marcus, please.”

Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.

He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.

You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.

You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.

It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.

“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”

He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”

Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.

“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.

“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.

“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”

“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”

You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”

“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”

“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”

You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.

“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.

“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”

He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”

“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”

“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“What are you doing Wednesday night?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”

Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

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imaginespazzi · 4 months

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Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest.

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens.

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly.

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression.

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”.

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully.

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week.

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look.

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart.

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe.

And then Paige looks away.

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air.

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together.

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times.

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige.

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams.

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome.

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get.

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere.

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words.

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin.

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this.

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith.

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically.

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back.

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow.

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever.

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against.

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home.

***

July 2024

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly.

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough.

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing.

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit.

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too.

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle.

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer.

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter.

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied.

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe.

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed.

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room.

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place.

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough.

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings.

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand.

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe.

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again.

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance.

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship.

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically.

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose.

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away.

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?”

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically.

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale.

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige.

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand.

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp.

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever.

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.

Click.

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together.

***

December 2024

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin.

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other.

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window.

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty.

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile.

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious.

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand.

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other.

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi.

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them.

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head.

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun.

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship.

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles.

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life.

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless.

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it.

“Say it again,” Paige demands.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug.

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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russellsppttemplates · 7 months

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Sharing is caring (George Russell)

A long weekend with the Russells

Note: english is not my first language. I know this is very very very overdue, but hopefully it's still enjoyable!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are you guys doing well back there?", you asked the kids as George drove the four of you up to his parents' house. According to the screen display, you still had a little over an hour until you arrived at George's parents house where you would be staying for the long weekend to enjoy some family time before the season picked up again.

"Does anyone need a bathroom break?", George asked, looking at Olivia and Arthur through the rear view mirror, "I'm fine", Olivia chirped in, "me too, I'm okay", Arthur added.

"You're doing okay, too?", George asked you, hand on your thigh as he drove, "I'm fine. I never want to say it too loud, but I think morning sickness stopped two weeks ago", you added.

"Little one has had enough causing raucous", George whispered, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

"We're nearly there, right, daddy?", Arthur asked as he recognised the streets as the car approached his grandparents' house, "yes, we just turn here and at the end there", George replied as you texted your mother in-law, letting her know to open the big gate so no one had to get out of the car.

"Guys, you're here! Did you have a good trip?", Allison welcomed you into the house, hugging the kids who immediately ran and hugged her legs, "grandma!!", they excitedly said.

"We did, it was fine. There was a little traffic at the end, but we were so close I think it barely bothered us", you said as you greeted Steve, walking inside the house and making sure the kids left their shoes by the door.

"I'm going to take the bags upstairs", George said, kissing your forehead, "I'll be right back", he smiled as you ushered Olivia and Arthur to the bathroom, "Y/N, here, darling, our some slippers on!", Allison offered.

Since Allison and Steve lived on their own again, as every child had now fled the nest, they updated the bedrooms, you and George staying in the guest bedroom with a double bed and the kids occupying the room they had for whenever the grandchildren stayed over.

"Lunch is ready, so when you can come down, we're waiting for you", George's mother called him as he helped you sort out the room for your children, "we'll be down in a little, thanks!".

After eating and helping tidying the kitchen, George took the kids out to the garden, hoping to use up their energy since they spent the whole morning inside a car.

"Is the swing alright, dad?", George questioned, "yes, me and Benjy sorted it out a few weeks ago. It's good as new", he answered, prompting George to take the kids to the renovated swing set.

When he was younger, he didn't spend too much time at home since racing required him to spend a lot of time away, but the times he did spend back home were filled with memories os this swing.

"Is this the old swing you told us about?", Arthur said, unsure of the whole apparatus since he heard stories from when his father and his uncle and aunt were much younger.

"Yes, me and uncle Benjy used to spend a lot of time here with auntie Cara, too! Who wants to go first?", he said as Olivia volunteered.

"It's safe, Arthur, see?", she said as she balanced her body back and forth, making her brother feel a little more comfortable with the whole thing, "I'll share it with you later, okay?".

"Sharing is important", George began, "and the fact that you guys always share is very nice, me and mummy are very proud of you", he said as Arthur picked some flowers from the grass and gave some to Olivia.

"We're siblings, of course we share everything", Arthur said naturally. It was true. For him, even if Olivia picked on his buttons a few times, he wouldn't ever not want to share something with her.

"Would you want to share your things with somebody else?", George tried as the kiss both looked at him like they didn't know what he was on about, "what I means is, would you mind having to share your things with someone else?", he clarified.

The pregnancy news were still between you and George, excluding your doctor. Because the kids could easily spill the news to somebody else and you had been specially careful so the news would stay between the people you wanted to until the doctor considered it was okay.

"I always share with my friends, too. But yesterday I had all the grapes mummy cut up for me because they were really good and I really wanted them", Arthur admitted as Olivia quirked a brow, "I think we could, yes. Even our toys, we share them too", Olivia added.

George seemed satisfied enough with the answers, hoping that when you broke the news they wouldn't have a complete meltdown.

"C'mon, Liv, it's Arthur's turn", George requested gently, the girl hopping off so her brother could have a go.

"What is mummy doing?", your son asked, "she was helping grandma with tonight's dinner when I asked if she wanted to come with us", George offered.

When they arrived back in time to have a quick shower and get ready for family dinner, you and George dressed them in comfortable clothes since it was just close family. Once they started arriving, the kids found their spot on the floor of the living room, playing with toys and colouring books while the adults caught up with eachother.

"Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long!", Cara said as she came up to you for a hug, "we've been busy, but we managed to sort some time out to come up here", you smiled, offering her the little pastries you had been working on with your mother in-law, "these are delicious!".

Excusing yourself from the group, you went to check on the kids, sitting on the sofa and getting a few cuddles from your nieces and nephews, "auntie Y/N!", one of them gasped, "you almost fell asleep while I was showing you my drawing", he said as Arthur snickered, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you can show me again, please", you offered, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.

"Darling, do you want some wine? We found your favourite in the shops the other day, Steve bought a couple of bottles", your mother in-law smiled as she stretched her arm to receive your glass when you were all in the dining room, "I don't, thank you for thinking of me, though", you smiled, exchanging a look with George that wasn't missed by his sister.

"I saw that!", Cara pointed out, "what was that?!", she questioned her brother, knowing he would break under her stare.

"Y/N has something to tell you", he quickly offered, passing the ball to your court as you felt everyone's eyes on you.

"This is not how it was supposed to go, but there wasn't a proper plan either, so... we are having a baby!", you announced, unfolding your leggings and letting your small baby bump show.

"Oh my goodness, another baby!", Allison cooed as your children looked at George for confirmation, "you're going to have a little brother, guys!", he said as they ran to hug you baby bump.

"I noticed your tummy was bigger, but I just thought you had a big lunch!", Arthur said, delighting everyone as they laughed, George watching everyone congratulate you before also congratulating him, "congratulations, darling", his mother kissed his cheek.

"We've been a little more careful this time around, did all the tests and in the blood test, the doctor told us were having a little boy", you smiled, kissing the top of your kids' heads as they latched onto your sides.

"Well, we can celebrate with the wine still! Some juice for you, Y/N", Steve poured in your cup.

When it came to bedtime, the kids didn't want to sleep in a separate room from you, and since the bed was big enough, you allowed them to sleep with you and George.

"That's what I'm saying, guys. It doesn't mean mummy is sick, but it means she needs our help more, she won't be able to do all things at once and it's our job to make sure she rests, as well", you heard your husband tell the kids while you brushed your teeth in the en suite bathroom.

"Time for sleep, kids", you said, lying down on the mattress, you and George brushing each of their hairs as they switched off, almost like a button, "they used up all their energy today", George began, "Did you know these two were wondering how they could help you, because they were worried that you are tired. You even fell asleep on the sofa..!", George tried his best to mimick his nephew shocked expression, earning one of your beautiful laughs.

"I love them so much", you sighed, "and I love you", you kissed his lips.

Kissing your forehead, George's hand managed to reach your bump despite the little boy latching on you like a koala and your daughter lying on top of him, drawing random shapes on it, "not as much as I love all of you".

#george russell imagine #george russell fanfic #george russell x reader #george russell fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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norrizzandpia · 9 months

Text

The Youngest Love (Chapter One of What We Could’ve Been and What We Are Now) (LN4)

Summary: A backstory to a love story.

Warnings: none, fluff

Note: this one is not that eventful bc I didn’t want to leave yall on a major cliffhanger or anything like that seeing as i am entering into my official finals week and definitely will not have time to post updates for this or anything else i hope you like it tho! And will stick around for the next chapters 🫶🏻

Series Links: Masterlist, Chapter Links, and the Playlist

“Oh, hey! I got the job!” Jon smiles from across the dinner table, his sparkling eyes meeting his wife’s and daughter’s. One hand holds his phone while the other still clutches his fork, his food getting colder by the second as he stares at the bright screen.

Amy, his wife, lets her eyebrows cinch together, “You mean the one with the Formula 3 kid?”

Jon nods, “Yeah, exactly! He’s 16, I think? Right around your age, Y/n.”

His daughter, Y/n, smiles with a closed mouth, her broccoli still being chewed on.

There’s a silence as Jon types out a message in response, his teeth shining under the low light of the kitchen while he grins at his new opportunity. There’s few things in the world that truly warm Y/n’s heart, her dad truly happy is one of them.

Amy applauds softly, a giggle emitting from her as she looks between her family, “When do you start?”

Jon draws out an ominous sound as his eyes squint to read his phone carefully, “Oh? Tomorrow, I guess.”

Amy stops chewing, “But, you said you’d take Y/n to the library tomorrow. Remember? She needs that textbook for her upcoming term.”

Jon’s mouth falls open and he nods in recognition, “Oh, sorry! Is it okay if she comes along? The library is on the way to the facility where I'll be training and really getting to know the boy. We can grab her book and then she can hang out while I’m working with him.”

Amy looks at her daughter, “You okay with that, Y/n?”

Y/n lets her head float to each side as she thinks it through, “No other alternative?”

Jon shakes his head, Amy shrugs her shoulders.

Huffing, Y/n agrees, “What’s his name?”

Jon smiles, “Lando.”

🏎️

Y/n inspects her new textbook as Jon leads her through the doors of the building. There’s loud commotion and chatter from every corner, but she’s so engrossed in trying to fix the tear in the back of her used book, that she’s not aware of any of it.

Jon mumbles to the reception, a conversation flourishing between them as he tries to sort out where he’s supposed to go. Still, Y/n smoothies down the flap that has ruined the state of her book. There’s a deep frown on her face as her dad begins to walk away, her footsteps falling in rhythm behind him.

When they enter the room, she’s lost hope for the cut and her eyes are finally returning to what’s in front of her.

Her dad speaks cordially with an older man toward the end of the room, leaving her in the presence of the boy her dad had mentioned the night before.

“You’re Lando, right?” She says softly, not truly comfortable being the one to speak first.

Lando smiles, “Yeah. What’s your name?”

She mimics his face, “Y/n. I’m Jon’s daughter.”

He nods, “Cool. Will you be around for the rest of the session today?”

“Yeah, I don’t have a ride anywhere else.” She chuckles, Lando joining her.

When their laughter dies down, Lando extends his hand in front of himself and speaks, “It’s nice to meet you, Jon’s daughter.”

She shakes his hand, “Nice to meet you, as well, my dad’s new client.”

🏎️

“Can I come along too?” Y/n pleads as Jon stands at the front door.

He frowns at her, “Y/n, the last times you came, you and Lando wouldn’t stop laughing. It distracts him. It stops the work we need to do to get him prepared for the season.”

His daughter groans obnoxiously, “Dad! I promise, it won’t happen this time.”

He squints at her, “You said that last time.”

She shakes her head, “Please?”

This time, it’s Jon who’s groaning, “Fine.”

🏎️

TWO YEARS LATER

“Yeah, and I never stopped coming after that. My dad stopped trying to fight it, I guess.” Y/n laughs into Lando’s side, her head bumping into his shoulder.

Lando smiles down at her, “I know! He just accepted it. I mean, it wasn’t like you were the only one trying to get him to bring you back to our sessions.”

Y/n’s head shoots up, tilting in confusion, “What do you mean? You were too?”

Lando nods eagerly, “Yeah, of course! I kept texting him asking if you were coming that day.”

“Yeah, it was annoying.” Jon’s voice cuts through the two’s incessant giggling. Their faces staring at him as he walks over to Lando and grabs hold of his sweatshirt sleeve.

Jon smiles down at them with pursed lips, “And look at you now, my lovely daughter! Still distracting him from his training! Making my life harder!”

Y/n smacks her dad’s arm as he pulls Lando from his chair, “Dad! Rude!”

He chuckles, placing a kiss on her forehead, “You know, I joke.”

Her cheeks warm at him, “I know.”

“But, for now!” He yelps, startling the two teens with his volume, “Let me train Lando. Stay here.”

Lando scoffs, “She makes it so much more fun, though! Jon, you are a buzzkill.”

Jon perseveres, pulling Lando out of the room, “Thank me when you’re a World Champion.”

Lando, just before his body disappears from the door, yells out to his best friend, “Meet me after! For Lunch, Y/n! You know where!”

She shakes her head as he is dragged out. She laughs as she hears his yelps to Jon down the hall, apparently her father was being too rough with him.

Lunch would be interesting.

🏎️

Lando’s head pulls to the side as Jon pulls the strap attached to Lando’s head towards himself.

“When are you going to ask my daughter out?” Jon says, quickly, a knowing smirk on his face as Lando’s eyes fall open and he leaps from his seat.

“Woah!” Lando looks manically at Jon, his mouth opening and closing at the question.

Jon takes the strap off Lando’s head, scoffing and thrashing his arms at his side, “Lando, we’ve had this conversation multiple times. Don’t act surprised.”

Lando huffs and brings his arms to cross in front of him, “Not multiple times.”

Jon slowly turns around, looking at him blankly, “Yes, we have. Don’t lie. We’ve been having this conversation ever since I started training you.”

The boy rolls his eyes and groans, “Get off my back.”

“Lando, you’ve had a crush on my daughter ever since she greeted you the first day we met. Be honest here. How much longer are you going to wait?” Jon sits down on a machine nearby. His face has hardened and he looks on at Lando with a serious expression, one that both scares and pushes Lando to do what he’s wanted to do for years.

He mirrors Jon’s stance, relaxing into a seated position as he tries to sort his thoughts, “I didn’t think I ever would.”

Jon throws his hands in the air, “Well, that won’t ever do.”

A silence overcomes them, Lando wondering when he’s supposed to put his friendship in jeopardy, when Jon’s face lights up, “The lunch! You guys are going to lunch after this, right? Ask her then.”

Lando shakes his head, “Are you crazy?! That’s too soon! I need to have time to prepare!”

Jon leans on his knees, “Prepare what? Just ask her the question!”

Lando stutters out his thoughts, “I don’t know, I just want to give her something grand. Do you understand?”

Jon nods, “I do, but I don’t agree. Y/n doesn’t want that. She just wants you to take her out to dinner, Lando. You’re over complicating it.”

Lando takes a deep breath, attempts to clear his mind, and maybe he is over complicating it?

🏎️

His hands shake as he sits down across from Y/n at the table. She’s smiling at him, a sweet grin that has his heart fluttering, when her face falls softly, “Are you okay, Lan?”

He nods aggressively, “Yeah! Yeah! Totally cool!”

She cocks her head and lays her hand over his on the table, adding to the bursting in Lando’s stomach, “What’s going on? You look like you’re going to vomit.”

He shakes his head, a beating finding its home in his brain and he blurts, “Will you go out with me?”

She stares at him for a moment. A moment, a split second, where Lando thinks he’s lost it all, but then she breaks out into the biggest smile he’d ever seen grace her face and begins laughing, “Really? Yes, Lan!”

Air fills his lungs once more and he moves his hand to clutch hers, “Oh, thank God.”

He falls into lovesick giggles with her and the two struggle to get through ordering their food with the way they stare into each other’s eyes.

When their food comes, Y/n looks at him, “Couldn’t this be our date?”

He bites his lip in deep thought before nodding in agreement, “Yeah, actually, that makes a lot of sense.”

She ducks her head, getting closer to Lando and whispers, “Can I tell you something?”

He moves his head just as close, “Always.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that ever since I introduced myself to you.” She smiles, her hand finding his once more and squeezing lightly.

“Can I tell you something?” He says all the same.

She nods and he confides, “Jon’s been nagging at me for years to ask you out. He pushed me over the edge today.”

Y/n rears back, “Jon?! My father?! A matchmaker?!”

Lando nods in astonishment, “I know! Especially with his daughter?! Scandalous!”

Y/n shakes her head as she chuckles before looking back up at Lando and saying, “I’m glad he did.”

Lando smiles at her, “Me too.”

They stare at each other for a moment more, the two growing slightly shy under the new view of their relationship and turning away. His deep green eyes are addicting to Y/n and, by the way he’d pined over her for years, she believes she’s just as addicting to him.

A blush rises to her cheeks.

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weirdsht · 1 month

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Disillusioned 7 . Truth (2)

a/n: double update this week (I'll upload another chapter tom) to lament over my fever getting higher lol (I'm actually procrastinating my school works)

tags: frustrated rosalyn, again abuse as the norm, cursing, detrimental thoughts and ways of living, unhealthy coping mechanisms and trauma responses

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Rosalyn is someone who threw away her royal position to pursue her dreams of being a mage.

A decision that removed her from her family.

The mage thinks that she would be sad by this if it wasn’t for the fact that she immediately found a new family to be with.

It's amazing if you ask her. It was as if the gods saw that she needed someone to trust after almost being killed and gave it to her in the form of a socially awkward swordsman.

And then almost right after she put her trust in Choi Han, she gained a little brother named Lock.

From there it spiralled. She met Cale and all the other people under him. She got the support she needed to make her dreams come true. On top of that, her relationship with her blood relatives is still good.

Overall it was nice. Especially when Cale seems to keep making friends everywhere and expanding this family-esc circle they have.

That was why when Cale brought another person home Rosalyn thought it would be the same thing. Thought that in a few days' time, that person would be part of their group, their family.

Well in a way they were.

Rosalyn has come to see _____ as her younger sibling, the same way she views Lock. She has taken it upon herself to help the healer acclimatize to their new group and environment in general.

However, every time Rosalyn thinks she’s making progress, _____ seems to go back into their shell.

At first, the woman thought they were just socially awkward. Perhaps shaken because their family literally just threw them to their death.

Her first mistake was assuming it was as trivial as that.

Her second mistake was not getting the full story.

If she had done that then maybe she wouldn’t be this shocked so early in the morning.

Well in her defence she was expecting Cale to talk about some sort of plan for when they meet the dragon. Why else would he gather the group this early right before they are set to travel to the dragon’s lair?

Apparently not.

As soon as everyone has settled Cale brought to everyone’s attention that they didn’t know how _____’s powers work.

This made Rosalyn confused. Because quite frankly what does this have to do with… well anything?

But oh god, the more _____ explains their abilities the more she understood why this has to be said now.

This should have been explained way earlier. Because what do they mean that _____ essentially absorbs their patients' wounds?

It made the mage look back at all the people the Medicus had healed. All the sickness and wounds they had to absorb.

And shit.

She remembered that _____ has been doing this since they were 9 years old. Maybe even earlier as she discovered that the famous story of their adoption is fabricated.

Rosalyn may have only known _____ for a short while, but that’s her little sibling goddammit.

A sibling she admires because of how helpful and selfless they are. Traits they possess that Rosalyn is now starting to resent.

The redhead shot a pointed look at the other redhead in the room. A look that says Rosalyn wants her questions answered. Cale responded with another eye contact that seemed to say “Later”.

“Just what-”

Cale put his hand up to stop Rosalyn from speaking. Everyone was still in the room minus _____. The redhead had sent them out as they hadn’t finished packing their things yet.

“To put it shortly, I need you all to keep an eye on _____.”

The man goes on to explain how the healer kind of lacks… common sense, for lack of a better term. It has something to do with how they were brought up.

“We don’t need to look after them like a child. Just make sure they won’t go overboard using their abilities. No guarding them like a hound either.”

It's a no-brainer that the last part was for the visibly enraged Choi Han. He was still visibly enraged but nodded as he understood why Cale didn't want the healer to have guards as of now.

Rosalyn is sure that Choi Han is going to be overprotective of _____ in some way. Not that she blames him.

Cale went to stand up, signifying that the meeting was over. The rest followed and started filing out of the room.

Everyone except Rosalyn.

She has questions and she’s going to get answers.

“Young master, how long have you known?”

“Since last night.”

“Were they deliberately hiding it?”

“No, they just didn’t think they could bring it up when no one was asking.”

“How are we supposed to- haaa”

“Blame their shitty family.”

On their way to the dragon’s lair, Rosalyn had a lot on her mind. Lots of puzzle pieces to put together.

Now that Rosalyn knows the full story everything started to make sense.

Made her realize just how hurt her sibling had been.

Just how much they suffered before Cale met them.

It made Rosalyn look back to some of the habits she noticed _____ has. Like how they almost seem apprehensive to talk to people in authority. How their hands and voice tremble when they thought they made a mistake. How they are so intent on healing everyone and low-key seem scared if a person’s condition is out of their jurisdiction.

How they take everything with apprehension. Like they can’t believe that they are being given things. Even when those things are basic necessities like a good plate of food. How they teared up when Raon gave them that red teddy bear from the night market. How apparently that was the first toy– no, the first thing, that they have ever received in their entire life for free. The first gift they get to indulge in.

How they are too independent for Rosalyn’s liking. How they always insist that the servants have better things to do than assist them. How they refuse to get treated when sick or injured despite them treating everyone else.

How they never speak unless spoken to first. How they will literally just stand there, bleeding and not saying a word unless they are given some sort of permission. This one frustrates Rosalyn so much. Not only does she want to hear more from the healer, but she also thinks they have so many good ideas. Before she let it go she thought they were shy, but that’s slowly going to change from now on.

How even when they were suffering from nightmares they were silent. How on one of those nights they looked more scared that Rosalyn saw them being vulnerable, as if it's a sin to have nightmares. To be vulnerable and lean on others. How on that night Rosalyn had to explain that there’s nothing wrong with asking for help after such things. How _____ nodded but seemed apprehensive. How Rosalyn knew that after that night they still suffered silently. Merely holding the mage’s hand as solace and comfort on the rare nights the healer allows themself to embrace the help presented to them.

How Rosalyn found out now that it was because _____ have been taught that since they don’t scar then they must not have pain. Since they only get a percentage of their patient’s pain then it would be arrogant and privileged of them to complain.

How they–

How–

Fuck.

Rosalyn is going to get revenge for _____.

She’s going to make sure she gets it done one way or another.

a/n at the end: i wasn't quite sure how to get the point across that rosalyn was angry and frustrated beyond belief so I made her curse as she isn't really someone who's portrayed to curse a lot

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roosterforme · 2 years

Text

Is It Working For You? Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Just in case you need to start at the beginning or visit an earlier chapter, check out my Masterlist!

Summary: You and Bradley get the opportunities of a lifetime.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter

Length: 1400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

A few weeks later....

Bradley was at the Hard Deck early Friday evening, losing at a game of darts against Hangman, but he was just too damn distracted by you to care. There you were, sitting at the bar with Cam and Maria, sipping a beer and laughing. You had just arrived a little while ago, and other than a wink in his direction, you had kept to the other side of the room.

Down a few stools sat Maverick, and the man could not be more transparent. He couldn't take his eyes off Penny. There was definitely something going on there. Bradley would get the information out of him the next time they grabbed a coffee together.

"I'll tell you why you're so bad at this, Bradshaw. It's clearly a lack of focus," Hangman drawled, hitting his second bullseye in a row.

"Nah, I think it's because he's severely whipped now," Phoenix added.

Bradley shook his head in the negative. "Nope, I was definitely bad at darts before I became whipped."

Today had been one of the best of Bradley's life. He finally got a new F/A-18 assigned to him, one with some updated controls, so he got to spend the morning in the air getting familiar with it. Being grounded the past few weeks had felt awful.

Then at lunchtime, you told him that Commander Bickel recommended you for a promotion of sorts, and you were going to take it. You'd be working in the Navy Software Development Lab on base at North Island, doing your dream job. You will soon be spending your time developing software based on what worked and didn't work well for the aviators. Bradley was planning on using this information to get you up in the air with him in the near future.

And after you gave Bradley that news, you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents when they came to visit you in two weeks. He said yes without hesitation.

But since he hadn't seen you since around lunchtime, he had some things to update you on. So he got his phone out and texted you across the room.

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

"So, what you're saying is, the straight laced financial planner is actually extremely kinky?" you asked Cam.

"Yeah, it would seem that way," he said with a slight blush.

Maria sputtered. "Are you going to see him again? Are you into that?"

"Can we change the subject, please?" Cam asked before finishing his drink in one go and avoiding eye contact.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: meet me outside? i wanna talk to you

You rolled your eyes and hopped up from your barstool. "I'll be back in a while," you told your friends and headed toward the pool tables where Bradley had ended up.

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said with a smile when he saw you coming.

"You know, Roo, we don't have to sneak outside. This is no secret," you told him, lacing your fingers through his and kissing his cheek. The two of you had spent a very long hour with Maverick, Admiral Simpson, Admiral Bates and Commander Bickel on the Tuesday after the mission was completed. And while it was slightly uncomfortable to listen to your bosses talk about workplace misconduct and basically tell you to keep it in your pants during business hours, there was nothing to hide now.

Bradley chuckled. "I know, Baby Girl, but I wanted a little privacy."

"Oh. Then let's go." You led him away from his friends who were acting like children and making kissing noises and lewd gestures at you both. You and Bradley just flipped them off behind your backs, and you let Bradley lead you outside, across the deck, and down the steps. The sun was setting on a beautiful October day, and the light made Bradley's features look even dreamier.

Once your shoes touched the sand, Bradley was all over you, guiding you back until you bumped gently into the deck pillar. He kissed you softly, brushing your hair away from your face. You reached out and pulled him closer by his belt loops with a grin.

"Oh, so you didn't want to talk, you wanted to talk. I get it now," you told him with a giggle.

"Actually, I wanted to do both," he whispered against your neck. "I had my followup meeting with Cyclone and Warlock this afternoon."

"You did? Why didn't you tell me?!"

He smiled against your forehead before kissing you gently and pulling back to look at your face. "Because I didn't want you to stress about it. Not after the awesome day you were having."

"You could have told me, Bradley! If something is important to you, then it's important to me too!"

He kissed the tip of your nose. "I know, Sweetheart. That's why I'm telling you about it now."

"Well? What happened?" you asked, grabbing him by the biceps and shaking him. Your impatience always made Bradley smile.

"They told me I could have my pick of locations."

Your eyes went wide as you reached for his face to pull him closer. "Does that mean you're staying?" you asked in the softest whisper. This was the answer you'd needed all along. This is what Bradley had been waiting for.

"Yes, Y/N, that means I'm staying." Your lips were on his instantly, and he felt needy and wonderful as he teased your lips with his tongue. He eased your lips apart with his and gently stroked his tongue against yours as his fingers tangled into your hair.

Then when you moved your mouth to his neck, he lifted you into his arms holding you against him by your thighs. "I'm staying at Top Gun, Baby Girl. I'm staying with you."

You tightened your arms around his neck and rested your forehead against his. "I'm going to be smiling all weekend, Roo." You were grinning so much as you pressed a dozen gentle kisses to his face.

"Speaking of this weekend, I'm hoping you'll come with me to... look at some houses."

"Houses?" you asked between placing kisses next to his mustache.

"Yeah, Sweetheart. I want to get out of the barracks soon. I was just waiting for a solid answer from the Admirals before I followed up with the realtor I've been talking to."

You stopped kissing him to look him in the eye, confused. "You've been talking to a realtor?"

"Sure have, Baby Girl. He's going to show us four houses tomorrow afternoon. As long as you want to come along." Bradley looked a little anxious, waiting for your response.

Your heart was pounding. "You want me to come along?"

Bradley kissed your lips. "Of course. I don't want to get a place that you don't like. And my goal is to ask you to move in with me after we've been together for a few more months."

"It would seem as though you're showing your cards here, Bradshaw," you told him with a laugh.

You felt him squeeze your thighs tighter in his large hands before he said, "Nah, just making sure I give you enough time to get used to the idea, so you're more likely to say yes later."

After a beat, you told him, "Yes, I'll come with you and the realtor tomorrow afternoon. It's what a good girlfriend would do for her boyfriend."

"Excellent," Bradley said, and you watched his face ease into a relaxed smile.

"I love you," you whispered. "And I love calling you my boyfriend."

"Yeah... that title's fine for now, Baby Girl. But you know, eventually I'm gonna try to get an upgraded rank with the Navy and an upgraded title with you. You make me feel like I can have everything I want."

You stayed like that, in Bradley's arms and watched the sunset as you talked about the future.

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

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS SERIES, BABY GIRL! You're lovely! I hope you enjoyed the ending. I'm going to continue with a bunch of one-shots for now, so I'll keep on tagging you. Here's the first one related to this series... Underneath It All. I'll keep updating my Masterlist as well.

Hit up my inbox for any requests!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfiction #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster fanfic

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clubdionysus · 4 months

Text

[BAD DECISION #29] 'Daddy'

warnings: polaroid taking, titty compliments <3, teasing, 'daddy' but not seriously lol, busan invite!!! yaaaaay!!!

a/n: last update for 2nite cos next week will be busan hehe

wc: 8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

A soft smile rests on your lips as you wake up; the heat of Jeongguk's body keeping you warm beneath your duvet. His arm is looped over your waist, and while there's nothing inherently romantic about it, you find yourself indulging in how lovely it feels. Safe. Snug. Stable.

He eventually stirs a little later than you, squeezing you closer while his legs stretch out a little bit, and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. Groans.

"Morning," he says, voice gravelly, throat a little parched from the dry winter air. Your humidifier had run out of water in the night, but neither of you had been woken by the small beep that would have told you so.

Your hand drops to rest over his, and he doesn't really think much of it as he spreads his fingers for yours to sink between. It's nice, the way his body just sort of accepts yours in any capacity; the same way yours does for him. You wouldn't say you're holding hands (even if you are). Would just say you're connected. Fostering a feeling of togetherness (even if you aren't).

"Morning," you hum gently, voice also a little croaky.

Jeongguk always thinks you sound cute like this. Likes your morning voice.

You like his, too. It's a little deeper than usual. Breathy. It's just 'cause the air has dried out his throat overnight, and his vocal cords can't vibrate at their full capacity. There's logic to his lethargic-sounding voice, but you ignore it all, 'cause you like the excuse of him just being sexy.

And yet despite the attraction that comes with a husky voice, the overwhelming adoration that irritates your heart as it bubbles through your veins comes in the form of intimacy.

Jeongguk's voice sounds like this because he slept in your bed.

He sounds like this, because he feels safe enough around you to let down any and all guards.

Sure, you're no longer hunter gathers from prehistoric times, and sleeping doesn't hold the same weight as it would have done for your ancestors. There are locks on your doors in one of the safest nations in the world. To sleep doesn't mean to risk death - and yet the cautionary tales of humanity run within your veins. You're only alive because one night, thousands of years ago, someone stayed awake throughout the night to ensure their family's safety.

Falling asleep together? Well, it only confirms one thing: you're a safety zone for one another.

Or maybe not. Guess you'll never truly know.

It's all very sickening, how sweetly you think of one another. Would never admit to it. Both as bad as one another in that regard. Made for one another, some may say.

"You stayed," you say, as if Jeongguk would ever leave.

"You know I always stay," he mumbles. He's been in your bed enough times for you to know this. Why you'd ever think he'd do otherwise is beyond him. "Plus I like your shampoo. Wanna use it."

His sleepy eyes are still shut. He's only entertaining this conversation 'cause he enjoys entertaining you.

"Show up without warning, claim my bed as your own, and now you're after a shower, too?" You affectionately scold him. He squeezes you a little tighter.

"What's mine is yours, remember?" he says, echoing a statement from the night before, lips brushing against your neck so subtly that you wonder if he even realises.

He does.

"We're not married," you tell him, to which he just shrugs. Holds you even tighter, still.

"We could be."

"Would you make me sign a prenup?"

"No."

"Okay," you airily agree. It's all facetious, and carries no weight. Is just fun to joke about from time to time. Something you've done for a while, now. Will always pretend like it repulses you. "We can get married. I'll rinse you in the divorce, though."

He pouts against your skin. Huffs. "That's not fair, B."

He'd never do that to you.

"Then don't marry me," you tease, as if it's even an option. "Problem solved."

Jeongguk doesn't like this scenario.

Also doesn't like that he's started joking about marriage, 'cause he knows it's only because his brain is doing that stupid little thing it likes to do whenever he has a crush.

See, Jeongguk is bad at the whole casual thing. Made a marriage pact with Hayun before he'd even fucked her. Fancied a friend in high school and ended up studying the same optional classes as her 'cause she told him that he should. It's why he was late applying for uni. Didn't have the right set of subjects studied to be accepted onto his course, so had to take a couple extra exams.

So now he's joking with you about getting married, 'cause he's accidentally thought about it a couple of times, and doesn't wanna be the only one of you thinking about it.

It's not like they were big dreams - just little daydreams, small snippets of a 'what if' . You hardly even feature in the daydreams. Apart from that one where he imagined you both walking into a reception room after the nuptials to a crowd of your friends cheering - but, like, everyone has silly little thoughts like that! Or at least, that's what he likes to tell himself.

He's been speaking with Yoongi a lot lately about wedding plans. Decides that's what's corrupted him. He's still young. Still single. He's not ready for any of that. Not in the slightest.

"Wouldn't wanna marry you anyways," he says. "You're so not my type."

"Gguk," you deadpan. "I can feel your boner digging into my ass."

It's not a lie. It's also not because of you, you know this. Know that morning is a particularly... hard time for him.

"It's morning," he pouts. "Not my fault. I'd get a boner even if I was hugging... I don't know. A pillow. Or Jimin."

"You'd get a boner for Jimin? Does mean a threesome-"

"No," he mumbles quickly, his sleepy voice making him sound so sweet and tepid, despite the burning heat beneath his ribs. "Shush, baby. No threesome."

Baby .

A term of endearment reserved for only the most intimate of endeavours, Jeongguk has never called you it outside of sex. He knows this. You know this.

Neither of you mention it.

You simply just pretend like he never said it; like your heart isn't beating so fast you're scared it might stop.

The rule of no pet names was put in place by you; ignored by him.

Disco Ball? Fine. Whatever.

Byeol? Excusable.

B? Well, it kinda makes sense.

But baby ? God, it gets you all sorts of fucked up.

You're able to ignore the way it makes you feel, usually. Too distracted by his lips, or the need to keep yourself from coming undone. Like this, when you're being kept warm by his body, but his touches are as innocent as his voice is sleepy, it's different.

For the first time in a long time, you feel a little bit scared. He's so good with your fears, but they still exist. You've just been holding a pillow over your eyes for a few months.

The pillow is gone now; just you, him, and the cinematic-scale fears your harbour in your heart.

"A threesome would be good for you," you say, not really believing it. "You're wasted on just one girl."

He squeezes you a little tighter, for the billionth time within a fifteen-minute window. "No, I'm not."

It's lovely to indulge in such a declaration.

It means nothing, in the grand schemes of things - just that Jeongguk thinks you're worthy of his body - and yet it feels a little weightier than it really should do. It's almost as if there are rocks tied to his words, but they're disguised in pretty satin scarves, wrapped up and hidden away, only felt when they get tied to you and drag you down. Head in the clouds, feet on the ground typa shit. The kinda feeling that makes you wanna write poetry, but you haven't written anything of any substance since Seokjin.

There's a quiet sadness to the way that your broken heart always seems to spill onto pages of notebooks, but the things you really want to shout about? The things that make you smile? They never make it onto the pages of your journals.

You keep these feelings all bottled up. Wax sealed. A daisy dried into the imprint. Just for you. Yours, all yours. No one can steal them that way. They're safe.

Like you are right now; Jeongguk holding you in such a way that lets you know you'll never be truly alone, as long as he's in your life.

You're grateful.

And it terrifies you.

You know that Jeongguk is withholding something that will only hurt you.

Have done since he showed up at your place after the last Dionysus night.

Should you rip it like a band-aid, or apply pressure to stop the bleeding? It's not a choice you wanna have to make.

Yet you know you need to.

Quietly, you muster up your courage. Untangle your fingers from his. Remain in your little spoon position, but busy your hands with picking off flakes of glitter from your forearm.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" you ask, a little apprehensive of the answer you could get.

Jeongguk's grip on you doesn't ease. He keeps you close, for fear of you wanting to leave. He won't stop you, if you do, but he wants you to know that he wouldn't like that. Wants you close, even if his past actions might push you away.

He sighs. Inhales. Loves the scent of your shampoo. Your sheets. You . Your smell , his brain corrects. Loves the way you smell. Not you. God no. Fuck. No. Not at all-

"Hm?" You encourage a response, knowing that Jeongguk is probably letting his thoughts get away from him.

When things get intimate, Jeongguk's thoughts tend to go awry. He voices the most unhinged shit he thinks of, just because he can. Says stuff he'd never dream of saying otherwise.

Contrarily, in moments of vulnerability (though his thoughts are very much still awry) he stays silent. It's a curious contradiction, but one you've grown used to. You don't mind it. Understand it. Understand him.

Eventually, he speaks up. "You really wanna know?"

Sitting, you twist your body to face his. Back against your bedroom wall, you pull your legs up to your chest. "Mhhm."

Your body language says 'absolutely not', and Jeongguk knows this. Sits up too. Lets your duvet pool around his impossibly slim waist, abs on show, and the freckle on his ribs that you adore so much says 'hello'. A teeny tiny tummy roll (thanks to how awfully he's been eating during exam season) reminds you that he's still human. Still lovely, regardless. Lovely, and warm, and a little forlorn in his gaze.

It doesn't linger on you. Drops to his fingers, which twiddle in his lap. He shakes his head, hair waving ever so delicately around his pretty features. His lips part. Words try to come out. Silence prevails.

"I already know," you say quietly, to which his eyes find you again. You're looking down, now. He hates this. Hates that it's his actions that have caused it. "I mean, I don't know know. I just know something happened with Hayun."

"How?" he asks quietly. He's not rude, nor confrontational. Just curious.

You shrug. "Intuition?"

Got a shit-bag ex who taught me all the warning signs, your brain corrects you.

He seems to accept this answer, so you don't elaborate.

He's quite forthcoming, when he admits to the truth. States it plainly, just like he did with Jimin.

"She kissed me."

"When?" You ask, wanting a timeline. Thinks it might help you understand his thought process if you know the steps that led him to your apartment that night. "Where?"

He battles with his mind for a moment, but his heart wins. Honesty is owed.

"Um, like, outside. The courtyard area-"

"New years," you say quietly, not to interrupt, just to connect dots in your own head. It's embarrassing, the way shame drowns you out. It's like you're spluttering for air, but in reality, you're stoic. Not moving a muscle.

"New years," he echoes. Hates this.Wishes the conversation would just stop. Knows it can't. "We were talking and-"

"I don't need the ins and outs," you interrupt, suddenly changing your mind.

Now that he's giving you specifics, it's just making you feel worse.

That's the most confusing part, you think. You've been feeling fine about things - and yet now, seeing his guilt? Makes you feel like maybe you should feel awful, too.

Jeongguk looks down. Purses his lips. "I know. I just don't want you getting the wrong impression."

"My impression is that you kissed Hayun and then came and fucked me," you sigh, bitterly disappointed. It's exactly what you've been assuming ever since that night, but the confirmation still stings.

"No, see, that is the wrong impression, B," Jeongguk stresses. You're so casual and flippant about things, but Jeongguk knows it was anything but. "It wasn't as linear as that. I know it sounds shitty-"

"It does."

"-But it really wasn't like that at all."

It doesn't matter.

You feel like a cheap consolation prize, regardless. Sort of like Jeongguk only came to you because Hayun decided she didn't want him after all.

It's stupid really. Your pride is getting in the way of things. Your disdain for Hayun? Even more so.

If he explained the what, the when, the why, the who, the how, you'd know that Jeongguk really didn't mean to make so many bad decisions. The only good decision that night, he thinks, was coming to see you - but even that, he managed to fuck right up.

The thing that pushed Jeongguk to leave Dionysus that night?

Wasn't Hayun. Wasn't Danbi rightfully giving him a piece of her mind. Wasn't any of that.

It was a choice that he had made earlier in the night.

Sick of his eyes searching for you in the crowd and always drawing blanks, Jeongguk had gone searching for you. Yeonjun had no clue where you were at this point, and had suggested maybe you'd already left.

You hadn't. Were just in the girls bathroom with Danbi, and some college girls who were in awe of the glitter (so naturally, you were turning them into glitter girlies too, free of charge).

Nonethewiser, Jeongguk tried his luck dipping from the club and heading to the next street over to where the arcade was. Less than a minute walk. Again, you were nowhere to be found - but the machine you had been at was currently free of punters.

Sure, maybe he spent a little too long trying to win the My Melody plushie, but he was drunk , and it felt important . He almost gave up after he got the Cinnamoroll, but couldn't. Had convictions. Was determined. Was gonna get your stupid, adorable plushie no matter what.

And he did.

Of course he did.

He's Jeongguk. There's nothing he can't do, when his heart's really in it.

Looked for you upon his return. Didn't realise you were still in the bathrooms, this time consoling a girl who had just seen her boyfriend kissing one of her friends. Classic, really. A little liquor and so many men seem to think that cheating is okay. Will cry about it being a mistake, but you know damn well the mistake is getting caught in the act, not the act itself.

His final port of call had been the staff room. Tossed the plushie down on the sofa. Sighed. Lamented the way things had changed since you'd last been together in Dionysus. Knew it was all his fault. Wondered if it was really worth it.

If Hayun was worth it.

He knows the answer, now. Had to experience it to really be sure, but he already knew. Deep down, he always has done.

But she'd entered the staff room when he was all sad and doe-eyed over you, and convinced herself that maybe it was her making him feel this way. Invited him to get some air. He'd needed a friend. Had lied to himself so well about the nature of the relationship that she was only ever a friend, he had seemed to think maybe she was. Maybe it'd be good to talk with her.

Lessons have been learned. Mistakes made. Decisions done.

"Should have told you first, I know," he says quietly, eyes on his hands. Looks up at you. Wishes you would look at him. "I'm sorry, Byeol. I'm sorry, and if I could re-do the events of that night, I would - butI I can't, so. This is where we're at. Fucked up, then I fucked you. Kinda poetic, in a way."

You snort out a disapproving laugh. "Yeah, if you were a teenager on tumblr in 2014."

"Not even gonna pretend to know what that is," he says, genuinely clueless to what a tumblr is, and why 2014 is relevant. "But B, we both know I didn't come here that night with the intention of fucking you, I never... Look, I'm sorry that I let it happen. All I can do is promise you that it won't happen again."

Men have promised they'd move mountains for you before. You'll believe it when you see it.

"What won't happen again?" you ask, a little petulantly. "You fucking me, or you kissing Hayun?"

Being childish right now will do no one any favours.

Will make you feel vindicated for a split second, mind you.

"Well..." Jeongguk begins, but stops himself from finishing.

He means Hayun.

Is done with it. Done with her.

Hates what's become of your friendship since her return. The loss of your closeness aches more than the residual pining feelings for her have ached in the last year. The way he once felt about her is not representative of who he is now.

"Well?"

"Well, kissing is intimate," Jeongguk says with a curt sense of authority. He's speaking your opinions as if they're universal truths.

"It is," you agree.

"I don't really think it's appropriate to be intimate with a girl my best friend hates."

"Hate is a strong word," you say, hiding a smile.

"I think it's just the right strength, here."

You know what Jeongguk is saying. He's speaking in tongues, but you're well acquainted with his. It's easy to decipher.

Yet you're an insolent little brat when you want to be, and so you twist his words. Not to be malicious, just to get confirmation.

"Hayun told me she was your best friend," you tell him. "And I'm pretty sure she hates me, so... you're saying we shouldn't kiss?"

"You rarely ever let me kiss you anyways, B," Jeongguk reminds you with a fond smile. Thinks he'd settle with never kissing you again if it meant he still got to banter with you. "But no, you idiot. Hayun says a lot of shit. You shouldn't listen to her. You're my best friend."

He's heard it with his own ears. Had always shrugged her mean comments off. Hasn't been able to shake the way he heard her speak about you. Tried, for a while. Just ended up making him feel like a shitty friend.

You deserve people in your corner. If Danbi was acting like besties with someone who had been cruel about you, he'd be pissed off. Thinks she had every right to criticise him in the way she had on that evening.

Despite being at his little party last night, Danbi had barely spoken to him.

Had looked at his neck. Raised her brows. Asked, "Well, are you being nice to her? I sure hope you are. And I sure hope those are from her, otherwise you're in for a world of pain, my friend," and then walked away before Jeongguk could even reply.

Danbi scares him.

Is pretty sure she scares Tae, too, but he seems to get off on that. To each their own, and all that.

"B, I don't wanna fight with you," he says, holding out his hand.

For reasons you can't, or simply won't, explain, you accept it. Toy with his fingers as your hands rest on top of your duvet. Trace his knuckles. Admire his tattoos. Relish in the serenity of him.

"Don't wanna fight, either," you sigh. Glance up at him, only to realise he's looking at you with such crestfallen need for forgiveness that it feels like the only thing you can do. "And, hey, maybe it was good. Me being mad at you gave me a little push in the right direction."

"Oh?" Jeongguk questions. His skin feels all hot. Prickly. He doesn't like it. "How so?"

You think nothing of it as you admit to the date you had last night. Jeongguk asks for his name. Nods when you tell him it. Asks for specifics. His career path - "sounds boring" ; his hobbies - "meh" ; his charms - "I have a dimple, too. See? Look, and I get dimples when I smile like this, too!"

As you're explaining the night before, Jeongguk is hunting for one of his shirts amongst your clothes. Says he wants to get a drink from the convenience store.

In reality, he just doesn't wanna have to look you in the eyes, just in case they sparkle for Seojoon.

"You're too competitive for your own good, Gguk," you laugh. "I'm not gonna ditch you for another guy. Unlike some of us , I'll keep my best friend around even if I do fall disastrously in love."

"Okay, one - I kept you around!" He protests, rummaging through the clothes on your desk chair for one of his shirts. There's definitely one in the pile. You're sure of it. "Two - who said anything about love ? I wasn't! Are you going to be in love?!"

Jeongguk can never really hide his emotions. He tries. Really hard. Always fails. His competitive edge is showing now in a way that it never has done before. He really is feeling threatened by Seojoon.

He's stupid, you think. You're not gonna ditch him. Would miss him too much.

Sure, you'll need to iron out the nature of your sleepovers, but that'll just be a small change - and fuck ! You've only been on one date. Hardly falling in love, are you?

"No!" You laugh. "Christ, Gguk. It's only been one date."

"But there's gonna be more?" He asks, still rummaging. Has already found a shirt. Just doesn't wanna face you right now. "You're gonna see him again?"

"Well maybe," you admit. "I don't know yet. He hasn't asked."

Jeongguk pretends like he isn't satisfied with that answer.

Again, he fails to compel this narrative. The little hum he chirps gives him away.

But then he's thinking about the reason you went on that stupid date in the first place, and wants to explain himself again. Really wants you to know how shitty he feels about it.

"About the Hayun stuff," Jeongguk begins, glancing over to you, but you just shake your head.

"Why waste your time explaining it away?" You ask with a small shrug and eyes so sincere Jeongguk thinks you could end world wars. Eyes he thinks he'd go to war for .

Silly thoughts, for a silly boy, who's engaging in silly conversations that makes his heart feel anything but silly.

It feels serious. Stern. Secure in his understanding of his feelings, but too scared to do anything about them. Especially now.

"I don't love your choices," you continue, not trying to be critical, but wanting him to understand why you aren't lingering on the situation. "But we learn from our bad decisions, no? We make mistakes so that in future we can make things right."

"It doesn't mean I shouldn't feel bad about it," he says quietly, eyes down.

"Well, what will beating yourself up about it do? Will just make you feel crappy - and like, don't get me wrong, I think you deserve to feel shitty for fucking me without telling me-"

"I do."

"But I'm not hung up on it," you stress. Really, you're not. "You feeling bad about it will make me feel like I should feel bad about it."

If Jeongguk was elated about his choices, enthusing about Hayun, then yes - you'd feel awful.

Thing is, his distress is written all over his pouty little face. There's nothing about even kissing her that he seems to enjoy. Not anymore.

Or at least, even if he liked it in the moment, the aftermath seems to have catapulted him into a near-permanent state of disgust. That's enough to make you feel alright about things.

"Okay," you sigh when you see his frown hasn't eased up. "Tell me one thing: do you still want her?"

The way Jeongguk recoils with a crease between his brows almost instantly says it all.

"Christ, B. No. Obviously not"

Cherry on top.

"Well, I mean she can have you," you tease, pleased to be smiling through such a conversation. Progress has been made.

"I don't want her," he insists, and it really does boost your ego.

"Should have thought about that then, shouldn't you?" You smirk with a raised brow.

Jeongguk throws his shirt at you. Whines. "Cut me some slack, B. I said I'm sorry."

The conversation dissolves into nothingness - Jeongguk asking you what you want from the shop, and you asking him what he wants to watch on Netflix when he gets back. Will only be gone for a few minutes, but it'll give you a chance to breathe and process the morning's revelations.

He slips on a pair of your jeans - mom cut, and shrugs when he looks in the mirror. Thinks they don't look too bad. A bit baggy, and loose on his hips thanks to your curves, but nothing that a belt can't solve. For a quick run to the shop? They're fine. Will do the job. Saves him from wearing sweats again, and given his near-constant state of boner this morning, sweats are not a wise idea.

The waistband of his Calvins peek out from the top of the jeans, framing his hips like they're a work of art deserving a place in the Louvre.

You sort of think they are. Think he's got a body that deserves to be admired. Worshipped. Appreciated. Know that you're more than capable of doing all of those things.

"Take a picture," he smirks, when he catches you looking.

You're unashamed.

Sure, your cheeks blush a little bit, but you just keep drinking in the sight of him. So often his body is shrouded in darkness when your hands are running over it - but you can see him, now. See the ridges of his abs, and the way they move ever so gently as he exerts a little energy.

Nodding towards the shelf just behind him, where your old polaroid sits prettily amongst some other tat, you smirk right back. "Gimmie it and I will."

You expect shyness - and get shyness, Jeongguk's smile a little scrunched as a soft giggle escapes his lips - but you don't expect for him to actually reach over for it.

"How do you work this thi- oh!" He exclaims as he presses down on the button that extends the lens.

It's not a proper polaroid, just an old instax that has seen better days, but it does the job well enough for you not to trade it in.

Honestly, you rarely use it these days. Maybe once a year, if you're lucky. You've no idea if it has any film in it - but as Jeongguk points it towards you, not bothering to adjust the exposure settings ('cause he doesn't realise it's needed) and presses down on the shutter button, it's confirmed that there is, indeed, still film in it.

"Oh, shit," he laughs, as if he wasn't the one who very deliberately took a photo.

He's not that stupid. He knows how cameras work. The mechanical whir as the photograph pushes itself out of the slot is nostalgic; a reminder of times that were simple.

He shakes the polaroid a little as he passes the camera over to you, looking at the empty photograph with a small pout.

"Takes a couple of minutes," you explain. "Put it on my desk, let it develop."

He does as he's told, believing you without hesitation. You've honestly no idea what you're supposed to do while they process.

Shake it - no! Don't shake it. Keep it out of the light. No! Give it light! No put it in the light for a minute only.

Everything you've ever been told about polaroids has been contradictory, and you enjoy the chaos too much to actually figure things out.

Holding the polaroid camera to your eye, you're smiling as Jeongguk decides to pose like an absolute tool. Muscles tensed, arms up in swan position, he looks like he's trying to compete for a place in Men's Health magazine.

"You're so stupid," you murmur affectionately.

"Stupid hot ," he corrects.

"Mmm," you hum as you press down on the shutter button, a flash lighting up your room. "Like a real-life Calvin Klein model."

He pings the top of his briefs against his skin with a teasing wiggle of his brows.

"Careful, or you'll speak it into existence," he assures you. "And then everyone will want me."

"So?" You laugh. "Am I supposed to feel threatened?"

Jeongguk's met many girls in his lifetime. Watched many on screen, and seen just as many in magazines. Gorgeous women. Beautiful women. The kind of women he'd be lucky to have - and yet, if were to be honest about his feelings for once in his damn life, he'd say 'no' .

No Hollywood star could ever compare to his star.

Instead, he deflects.

"Threatened? Huh," he smirks. Shakes his head to the side, like a dog with an itch. He's quite puppy-like, when you think about it. All doe-eyed and charming. Exquisitely cuddly and notoriously boisterous. Cute - and yet that smirk of his? The toned muscles of his chest? Sin . "You jealous?"

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. "I'm not the jealous type."

Jeongguk presses his lips together, still smiling. Nods. Eyes sparkling, his tongue toys with his lip ring a little, the freckle beneath his bottom lip on full display.

Shakes his head. "I think that's a lie."

Oh, how insufferably right he is - but you're not gonna give him the satisfaction, even if you're both well aware of it.

"I've never been jealous in my life," you say with a small giggle as Jeongguk prowls towards the bed. You lift the polaroid to your eye, and press down on the shutter button once more.

He doesn't imagine it's a great angle.

He's wrong.

"No?" He flirts, taking the camera from your hands as he gets himself between your legs.

He's sitting on his knees, with his thighs hooked beneath your legs. The hand that isn't holding your camera - the tattooed one - pushes the shirt you're wearing up a little. Reveals your underwear, and the bottom of your cute little tummy. There's a softness to you that he likes. Gets him hard .

"Shame," he shrugs. "I get jealous."

"I could tell," you assure him, as if your heart isn't beating a mile a minute. Something about Jeongguk like this - half-dressed, Calvins, body on show just for you - really gets you all hot and bothered.

The tips of his fingers stroke your skin, until they meet the top of your lace underwear. His thumb dips. Presses down on your clit, the thin piece of material the only obstruction.

You gasp, because of course you do, and Jeongguk feels vindicated. Thinks he'll never need to be jealous, 'cause no one is ever gonna make you feel like he does. Knows that he'll try his goddamn hardest to keep things as they are right now, 'cause he's had a taste of what it could feel like to lose you.

He doesn't want that - and yet he feels the need to preserve things as they are, just in case. Knows that Seojoon exists, and doesn't like the prospect of what that could mean for the future.

He raises the camera to his eye. Looks down at you.

"Chess?" He asks, giving you the option of an 'out' that only the two of you understand.

"You finally gonna teach me how to play?" You banter back, knowing that he wasn't asking you to play. He's checking consent before he presses on the shutter button.

It will produce just a single image. One for you to keep; proof that once upon a time, Jeon Jeongguk had touched you so indecently angels would weep. The sins you commit with him feel like heaven on earth, so how could they blame you? You're sure when you reach the pearly gates, they'll understand - though heaven wouldn't really be worth it, you think. Not when you've already experienced Nirvana with him.

"Not if you don't want me to," he says, his intentions thinly veiled as he lowers the camera to look at you.

There's innocence in his dark eyes; an elixir you just want to bottle up to preserve for a rainy day. His thumb is still pressed against your most intimate of areas, languid in its subtle movements, just to remind he's there. Willing. Wanting. Waiting.

"So chess, or no chess?"

He's too far away for your hands to reach him properly, so you simply tap beneath his hand to encourage the camera further up, indicating that he should realign it with his sight.

"No chess."

Slow as he makes sure he's got the perfect angle, Jeongguk presses deeper against you. Has you humming in anticipation of more substantial touches.

The camera flashes, a mechanical buzz accompanying your bated breaths. He can't have captured much, you think, knowing the camera well. Will likely just be his hand, probably, and the part of you it was taking ownership of.

The photo begins to slide out of the slot at the top of the camera, but Jeongguk's hands are full. He nips the edge with his teeth. Pulls it out. Keeps it there. Realigns the camera. Lets go of your pussy to push your shirt up your stomach.

"Up," he instructs, teeth gritted thanks to the polaroid, letting you take over the removal of your shirt. Your body is bare, save for the pair of underwear he's been toying with, your chest now his to play with - but he doesn't. Not really. Just holds one of your tits in his firm grip. Tells you to hold the other one. You comply. The camera flashes again.

He spits the polaroid between his teeth to the side. It's developing now. He doesn't dare look at it. Another, arguably worse one is printing out anyways. Again, his teeth nip at the edge and pull it out.

"You'll use all the film," you say softly, a fondness to the way you're scolding him. He discards the polaroid between his teeth, a smile on his pretty lips.

"I'll buy you more," he says as his hand strokes up your chest and sinks to where your bird should be. "Still missing a necklace."

Oh, on the contrary, you think.

"Shame."

Camera still by his eye, Jeongguk lines up the perfect shot: the top of your chest, collarbones sparkling in your bedroom light, his hand wrapped around the base of your throat. Careful not to include your face, he thinks it's a shame. Would have quite liked your pouty lips as part of the picture, too.

He squeezes his hand as the camera flashes.

Pulling the polaroid out with his fingers this time, he shakes it gently. Finds the other photos scattered around your body and tosses them in a neat pile beside your bed.

"Gimmie," you say, scrunching your hands out in a bid to retrieve the camera. There's no protest. He sort of wants you to take pictures of him, too.

Wants evidence that you once wanted him as badly as he seems to want you.

"Where do you want me?" He asks, a little shy now the camera is back on him.

Aligning focus, you hold out your hand, and let the tips of your fingers trail down the ridges of his torso. Jeongguk glances down to watch your hand, so focused on your dainty touches that he barely even notices the flash going off.

"Only two shots left," you say quite contently as you perch the camera on your bedside table, the polaroid still printing. You'll check it later. "Should save them for something important."

He raises a brow. Looks genuinely confused. "Your tits are important."

With a laugh, you shake your head, hair tangling against your pillow. Cupping your tits for a little support (and warmth) you simply say, "not if you're an ass guy."

Jeongguk's whole entire face scrunches up, to the point where his lip ring does the thing, but you can't focus on it. He looks too cute. Stroking the tops of your thighs adoringly, Jeongguk sighs.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm not an ass guy anymore, but, like - shit , B."

He reaches up to rest his hands over yours, but you slide yours out so that his are making direct contact with your tits. Putting your hands back on top of his, you encourage him to squeeze them, which earns you a whine from his prettily pouted lips.

"Love your tits. Absolutely corrupted me, they have."

"I know," you say smugly. "You're welcome."

"I'm not thanking you," he laughs, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The arching of your back gets his cock throbbing. You're so easy to work up. So is he, though. "Ruined me."

He loves your laugh, but loves it catching in your throat as he spanks the soft flesh of your chest even more so.

He doesn't let the sting linger; soothes your skin immediately. Mutters to himself, with a shake of his head. "Absolutely ruined."

"Careful," you tease. "Or I'll start thinking you're a tit guy."

"I'll eat your ass just to prove I'm not," he banters back - but then you twist beneath him. Get on your front. Ass up for him, just how he likes.

"Alright, then," you challenge.

"B," he husks, gripping onto your ass with one hand and stroking down your arched back with the other. Poised so that you can see the mirror across the room, there's something sordid about watching Jeongguk like this.

Desire becomes him. There's nothing about his mind, body nor soul that doesn't want you in this moment, and it's written all over his skin. He has to have you. Will simply die if he can't.

"Yeah?" You reply sweetly, and he just knows you're gonna be in one of those moods - a mood he loves, but a mood he knows is no good for the way you make his heart beat these days.

"Behave yourself," he husks. "We both know we shouldn't."

It hasn't been discussed, but he's got a point. You know you should be practising a little more self-restraint.

"I won't tell if you don't."

His grip gets tighter. Jiggles your soft flesh a little. Gets him gritting his teeth. Cursing.

Your body jolts forward as he spanks you, just once. It's so satisfying.

"Shouldn't play with your food before you eat it," you smirk, knowing just the way to wind him up.

Yeah, Jeongguk thinks to himself. You're definitely one of those moods.

It's the bratty type. The 'wind him up just because it's fun' type - but two can play at that game.

"Want me to eat it, huh?" He husks.

"Mhmm," you whine a little as he massages your skin.

His hands are strong, but his determination to not let your brattiness win? Oh, even more so.

"God, you're filthy for me, aren't you baby?" He husks. Knows how much baby gets you. Uses it deliberately.

"Mhmm," is all you can whine in anticipation of something, anything, to relieve the ache in your pussy. Have been horny all week, but unable to act upon it without thinking about him - and you were mad at him. Didn't wanna be thinking about him at all, let alone as you came.

"My pretty little slut, aren't you?" He praises, fingers toying with your lace underwear. The slickness of your pussy seeps through the fabric. Gets him all wet and dirty, just how he likes it. "Cunt just begging to be fucked, but it's your ass you want eaten."

"Koo," you whine .

He's rarely ever mean in bed, but it always gets you even hornier than usual when he is. It's the juxtaposition, you think. A man as kind and charming as Jeongguk should not be as unhinged as you know he truly is.

"What have I told you about calling me that?" He laughs. "Don't fuckin' do it."

It's not that he doesn't like it. In fact, it's quite the opposite. He likes it too much.

"Why not?" You ask, because again, it's one of those moods - so Jeongguk decides that if you wanna fuck with him, he's gonna fuck with you instead.

"'Cause you're gonna address me properly, aren't you, baby?" He says, thankful you aren't looking at him, 'cause a smile is tugging at his lips.

He's got a plan. Doesn't know if you'll play along. Hopes you will. Knows that there's no way you'll fuck him if it goes right - and that's sort of what he's hoping for. The pair of you simply have no self-control, so he's trying to create some.

"What am I gonna call you?" You whine as he rubs over your panties with his long fingers.

"What do you think, baby?" he teases. "Use that pretty little head of yours, baby girl."

God. You're gonna die.

"Koo," you whine, because of course you do. There's only one name that compliments baby girl - and you don't wanna say it.

What you do want? Right now? Is for Jeongguk to fuck you so hard it makes you booking the entire day off worth it.

"Uh, uh, baby," he says as he holds your cunt. Absolutely takes ownership of it. Gets you all whimpery and whiney - and when he starts being nice? Oh, fuck . You're done for. Death imminent. "Use that pretty, perfect brain of yours. You're so smart, aren't you? You know what to call me."

Jeongguk would be lying if he said his cock wasn't throbbing. Your mom jeans - the ones that were baggy - appear tight now, thanks to his hardness.

You take a second. Assess how much dignity you stand to lose from 'addressing him properly', and decide you're too horny to care.

"You think I'm smart, Daddy?"

Glorious , Jeongguk thinks. Not the name. Just that he managed to get you to say it, and mean it. His power knows no bounds. This is fucking fantastic .

"There you go, baby girl," he praises, pushing your panties to the side so that he can get a good look at just how messy you are. He thinks he'll die almost immediately. "So smart. You like being smart for me, don't you?"

You can't believe you're gonna say it again. And yet -

"Yes, Daddy," you nod into your pillows, 'cause the anticipation of Jeongguk doing something - anything - to your pussy right now is simply too much.

" Too smart, almost. I'm gonna have to fuck you so hard you can't think straight," he tells you. Smirks to himself. His breathy laugh echoes around the room. "Gonna be a dumb slut on my cock, aren't you?"

"Fuck," you moan, not willing to subject yourself to another 'daddy' - but Jeongguk pushes his luck.

"Who?" he insists. "Who you gonna be fucking?"

You roll your eyes, not that he can see it. Can't believe you're doing this. Can't believe you kinda like it, either. "You, Daddy."

"Hmm," Jeongguk hums with great satisfaction, giving you a very gentle but curt spank, before rolling back down beside you.

You're confused. Worried .

And then Jeongguk is chuckling to himself. "That was easier than I thought."

You sit up instantly.

Mouth ajar, you turn your head judgmentally, reaching a conclusion that is gonna earn Jeongguk the bluest balls he's ever had. You'll make sure of it.

"What?!"

"What?" He smirks right back.

"That was easy? " You question, still confused, but also aware that despite the raging boner he has, a fuck is not what he's after.

Maybe he wants to be blue balled.

Weirdo.

"Yeah," he smirks, then fucking giggles to himself. "I got you calling me Daddy . God, you're so willing to do anything for my cock, B. It's so cute."

His smile prevails as he giggles, finding much amusement in playing you at your own bratty game.

"Oh my God," you wail. "I fucking hate you! You know I hate 'Daddy'."

"And yet you'll do it for my cock," he laughs even harder, now. "Oh, it's adorable. Really really sweet."

"I'm ending our friendship."

"No you aren't," he tells you, reaching for your wrist to pull you back down into your sheets with him - and for reasons you (again) don't care to explain, you just let him.

"I am," you assure him, even though you're kinda now snuggling into him.

"Don't disobey your daddy, baby," he jokes.

"I'll send him to an early grave if he isn't careful," you warn, but it only cracks him up even more.

"So you admit it?" he teases. "I am your Daddy?"

"Oh my God!"

"I'm your God, too? Wow, you really are being kind today-"

He's interrupted by your dainty hands covering his mouth. "Shut your face."

Jeongguk just laughs. Knows he'll probably just make it up to you with a quick fuck, if you let him.

The cursed thing about it all?

You probably will let him.

'Cause even though you hate Daddy, and you hate feeling embarrassed, and you hate not understanding your feelings, you do understand that nothing feels quite as calm as the aftermath of time spent in bed with Jeongguk.

It's the orgasms, you tell yourself. He makes you calm when he makes you cum. There's probably a science behind it. You're not gonna google it, 'cause you don't wanna be proven wrong.

"Put a shirt on," you huff. "You're paying for the snacks this time. You owe me, like, I don't know. Three weeks worth of snacks for that little stunt."

And so when Jeongguk returns from the shop a little while later, you're pleased to see he really did buy enough snacks to last at least a month, if not longer.

"Was meaning to ask you," Jeongguk says as he unpacks one of the bags while you scroll through the Netflix home page. "When are you next in work?"

You're yet to tell him you booked the day off because of his exam. Now Wednesday, you have Thursdays off as usual. The Friday shift pattern changes most weeks depending on who needs it off, but this week, you've managed to get it off, too. Saturday will be your first shift.

"Well," Jeongguk says. "I missed a bunch of family events 'cause I was studying all the time. I'm probably gonna head over to Busan this evening just to show my face for a night or two. Keep mum happy."

"That's cute," you smile. "She'll appreciate it, I'm sure."

He nods. Knows she will. Feels bad for being a bit of a shitty son in the last few weeks.

"I know things have been a bit mad with Tae's shows, and just... Well, everything," Jeongguk staggers his words, a little unsure of himself. For once, he fears your rejection.

"Mhmm," you agree. "Been crazy."

"Yeah," he nods. "Sea air helps, though. You wanna come with?"

"To Busan?" you clarify.

For some reason, it feels like your heart is in your throat. You might throw it up entirely.

"To Busan," he reinforces. Turns to face you. "With me. Busan. You wanna come?"

"Do you want me to come?" You ask, not wanting to be a charity case 'cause he feels bad about the whole 'Daddy' thing.

Jeongguk doesn't feel bad about the 'Daddy' thing in the slightest. He genuinely just wants you to come with him.

"I'll get bored on the drive if I'm alone," he shrugs. "Plus mum keeps asking why I don't have a girlfriend yet and if I introduce her to someone as repulsive as you, maybe she'll stop insisti-

"Oh fuck you," you laugh. "Mothers love me."

"Yeah, sure they do," he teases, knowing full well his mum will think you're the greatest thing he's brought home since his first-grade report card.

"I'll prove you wrong," you say, not that you have to. Jeongguk is just winding you up. "Your mum is gonna like me more than she likes you."

"So you're gonna come with?"

You bite down on your bottom lip. Ignore the conventions of a relationship that are looming over the pair of you both. Nod.

"Yeah. I'll come with."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#bad decisions

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dq-avenquire · 11 months

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Celestrian Masterlist

I have some fittingly angelic OC's that I wanted to give a DQIX AU, so I looked through the wiki + double-checked some stuff of my own accord and felt like sharing it here too - this list will be updated as I replay through the game and do things like "counting every single Celestrian found in game" and similar fascinating tasks. This list will likely contain spoilers, as well as the birds each of the constellations the Celestrians are named after are associated with. NON-GUARDIANS: - Apus Major, leader and eldest of the Celestrians. His bird is a bird of paradise :) - Columba, presumably a librarian. Her bird is a dove. Seems to have been familiar with Corvus previously, and is close with Aquila now - Aquila, former Guardian of Angel Falls, twin brother of Pavo, the protagonist's mentor and former apprentice of Corvus. His bird is the eagle. - Pavo, the one who opens and closes the Rapportal and allows the player to use the multiplayer function. The only Celestrian to live in the Protectorate, and (younger) twin sister of Aquila. Her bird is the peacock. GUARDIANS: - You! :) Angel Falls is all yours - Tucana, one of two Guardians of Stornway. Their bird is the toucan! - Cygnus, the other of the two Guardians of Stornway. Their bird is the swan. - Vultur, Guardian of Gleeba. Their bird is, as one might guess, the vulture. - Noctua, Guardian of Swinedimples Academy. Fittingly, their bird is an owl. - Corvus, the sort-of-sort-of-not Guardian of Wormwood Creek. His bird is the crow.

OTHER GUARDIAN STATUES: - Zere - noted to be crumbling and broken. I'd assume this is because the villagers treat the tree at the centre of the village as a guardian instead. - Coffinwell - two statues, actually, but no names - Alltrades Abbey - weirdly, none. There is a statue behind Abbot Jack, but I think that looks more like Celestria, personally. Noting it regardless! - Zere Rocks - has a statue, but given the context of how it was made there's no way to know if it would even have a Guardian to go with it. - Bloomingdale - statue, no name This leaves us with Porth Llaffan (which worships Leviathan over the Celestrians), Slurry Quay, Dourbridge, Batsureg (nomadic, might not have statues because of this) and Upover (which has Greygnarl) without statues, but not necessarily without Guardians. I also made a point of checking Gerzuun (which does have a church, notably, and the bodura grass as a thing to worship) and Brigadoom, but couldn't find any there either. Beyond that, all Celestrians are unnamed (I'll get to how many of those there are later!). That being said, there are actually two major bird related constellations left (that I could find with some very surface level research) that aren't used as names within the game. Namely Grus (crane) and Phoenix (self-explanatory). I like to think that Phoenix would be a good fit for Alltrades Abbey, given the association with rebirth, though I'm still figuring out where I personally would place Grus. (I also think that Phoenix would be a very interesting fit for Brigadoom or Zere, Rocks or otherwise, for similar reasons) That being said, since most of the constellation names for birds are also just their genuses, it's pretty easy to find a number of canon compliant names that will fit right in should you choose to make your own :) happy questing !

#dragon quest 9 #dragon quest ix #dq9 #dqix #dragon quest #celestrian

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vinecradle · 1 year

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16 OMG - what was once mine, will be yours (✿)

scaramouche x fem!reader

blue is for scaramouche, green for heizou

masterlist | previous | next

"scara, what's the thing you wanted to find? is it like.. maybe another keychain? an id holder? an acrylic standee? or a phone case of some sort?"

"its a secret. you'll see later when we find it." he smiled smugly, playing around with his necklace as you walked beside him.

feigning a scoff, you then pointed towards a tall building with the words "AKADEMIYA" lighted up brightly. "we're almost there, you've gotta lead the way though. i don't know the directions to the inazuma classes.."

scaramouche nodded and continued walking, "yeah, just keep on following me." putting his hands in his pockets, his thoughts racing miles per hour.

fuck. am i really giving it to her? i cant believe this.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

"we're here." scaramouche spoke as you admired the entrance to where inazuma class is located.

..this place is so pretty..! "wow... am i allowed to take a picture of the entrance? am i?" you questioned excitedly, taking out a phone from your bag.

he shrugged, "i think it should be fine, it's not like they don't have a video published of a tour of the whole akademiya. feel free to." you smiled and nodded, taking some pictures of the place for yourself and showing him the results once done.

"do you like them? look! i even caught a picture of you here." grinning happily, you handed your phone to him as you watched the corners of his lips lift up. "yeah, they look nice. mind sending me these pictures?"

nodding happily, you sent the pictures to him.

"we should start looking now. you could start from the front of the class, i'll start from the back." scaramouche said, and began to search for the item.

you then picked up an artificial flower that's in half, showing it to him. "i guess someone in this class got heartbroken or something like that.." sweatdropping, you grabbed a cardboard box nearby and put the flower inside.

i think this'll take awhile to find..

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

"scara, it's been around 20 minutes.. did you find anything? all i found were stuff like school books, hair ties, keychains, and hairclips. what's up with people and keychains?" you questioned as he sighed softly.

"well, keychains are nice and you can bring it everywhere with you without it adding too much weight to your bag. there's one spot left we haven't checked, we should look there."

nodding, you followed him behind and began looking again. your eyes went towards a small cat plushie, grabbing it gently and showing it to the male.

"scara, is this what you were finding?"

his eyes widen slightly and went back to normal in a blink of an eye, walking in front of you. "yeah, it is.. if you look on it's back it has my nickname in cursive."

your eyes sparkled, handing over the plushie to him. "it's really cute.. and it kind of looks like you in some way. maybe it's the color?"

scaramouche gently pushed the plushie towards you again, "take it, i wanted to give it to you. it's something my aunt made for me, but i wanted you to have it now."

your eyes softened as you looked at the plushie and at him, holding the plushie near him again. "wait, i can't take this! it's yours, isn't it? i can't take this.."

the male shook his head and placed his hand on your head, "keep it, really. what was once mine, will be yours. i want you to keep it for yourself." ruffling your hair softly.

"then.. thank you. lots of thank you's. i'll update you every day with a picture of this cat plushie whenever i wake up! i'll take care of it with my whole being."

scaramouche chuckled and walked out of the class, "it's nothing, i think we should go back to our dorms now. it's kind of late, don't want our dorm advisers to scold us now do we?" you smiled and nodded, holding the plushie close to your chest as you closed the door.

and as you both walked away, you saw a flash of burgundy hair from the corner of your eyes. stopping in your tracks, you shrugged the thought away.

in a corner, a certain male put a hand over his mouth. "wasn't that yn.. and she was with scara? oh my god. a new discovery. i'm so glad i followed my intuition to find my hair tie at this hour!"

• heizou sneak.. i had to

• btw i know the plushie looks big BUT PRETEND ITS SMALLER THAN IT LOOKS

summary :: wanting to go back to your dorm from the library, and accidentally leaving a friend's book there not knowing she has the intention of making you give it to someone she's trying to set you up with, a note inside with your number. without anyone realising, the book is in the hands of someone else, and you then wake up to a message from an unknown number.

author's note :: i think starting from next week i'll go back to my old schedule of updating twice or thrice a week since i go back from school earlier now!! 🫶🏻

taglist, opened (1/3) :: @aeongiies @hrtswinter @zyilas @cofijelli @stuckinadreamland06 @elyionaa @thenightsflower @ohmyfinggod @mikctp @cherrybeomgyu @raideneiari @sakiimeo @xiaosonlybeloved @simp4bakuh03 @kunikuzushiit bolded cannot be tagged!

#genshin impact #genshin impact smau #genshin au #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact au #genshin modern au #kunikuzushi #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x female reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smau #wanderer x reader #wanderer #omg vinecradle smau #vinecradle

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samslvrgirl · 22 days

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Don't Know Why Masterlist

A mini-series based on the Dean Smith character from "It's A Terrible Life" episode. I'll update this post later when I've figured out what sort of story I'll be doing.

Coming soon...

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean smith #dean winchester #dean winchester au #dean winchester fanfic #dean smith x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #masterlist #sam wesson #spn s4 #supernatural fanfiction

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kitsuvil · 2 years

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[Reverence] — Scaramouche SMAU

v. — neither of us planned it ft. kunimouche ♡

[previous | masterlist | next]

[stream transcripts]

kunimouche: what do we event start with? what's your favorite ice breaker?

elynsian: honestly, i don't think i meet enough new people to have a favorite.

kunimouche: shit um, how about 21 questions then?

elynsian: works for me.

kunimouche: good, i'll start then, chat you should pay close attention, i think this will be pretty entertaining.

elynsian: what is that supposed to mean?

kunimouche: nothing, of course. anyway—have you ever had a crush on someone?

elynsian: why is that your first question? but to answer, no i haven't really had a crush. sure, i've seen some eye candy but no one to actually give me butterflies.

kunimouche: i see... what's your favorite childhood memory?

elynsian: oh, i know this. it has to be the one time i went on a vacation with my family, we had so much good food and saw beautiful places.

kunimouche: where did you go?

elynsian: haha, your 3rd question? i went to paris.

kunimouche: fuck, didn't know this game would trick me like that. you've got me wasting questions here. how about... what makes you laugh?

elynsian: this one is easy too, i can wholeheartedly say that people like cyno make me chuckle with every word that comes from their mouth. there's something about that sarcastic and uninterested type of humor.

kunimouche: i think that means it's time for me to look up unfunny jokes on google.

elynsian: haha, that's a whole fatality, i know you did not just say that.

kunimouche: and i know i did.

elynsian: anyways... go ask your next question.

[many kuni questions later]

kunimouche: here's my last one before it's your turn to interrogate me... do you ever think of me?

elynsian: what kind of question is that? i mean, yeah i can confidently say that i do think of you, especially with how often your attitude sets me off. i'm glad to know you though, even if you are hard to deal with.

kunimouche: i'm not sure if i should be satisfied or annoyed with that response...

elynsian: maybe both? by the way... after this, can we go on a phone call or something? try to sort out differences and just chat a little more? this isn't half bad.

kunimouche: what- huh? i mean- yeah, sure, we can call if you want, of course it's not that bad, it's me we're talking about. but uh- you should go ask your questions now—before the chat gets too impatient.

elynsian: you're right, we can talk about random stuff more after the finish the game. i think i'll start off with this, do you ever think of me?

summary; kunikuzushi only became a streamer to follow in his idol's footsteps. but now, he’s ahead of the person he idolized and they have no idea who they are or what they mean to him. due to his ego, instead of explaining the situation in natural ways, kuni has to show his affection with… different methods.

aka: the guide on how to romance your favorite streamer, y/n.

please reblog, like, and comment! it helps a lot!

taglist; @blurr3db3rry @snakeenthusiast @lovely-scaramouchie @yukiipc @monochromaticelliot @griseoo @zannivrs @yukkitosposts @linn-a-a @beriiov @llghtsnoww @shizunxie @meowlumi @mafukissu @mariaaagoesblank @gimenaverde @lxry-chxn @cherrybeomgyu @saoiirsee @plinkuro @kunikuzushiit @almoundtofu @skimm0nzz @dee-zbignuts @frzenhans @dandelion-star @sashiette @ei-ei-ou @l-l-u-x-x @layla240 @moon-z0ne @thenightsflower @p1utto @mammon-s-ring @cloudxemoji @r0ttenhearts @bluebelony @purpl3bo1 @lleoll @angryhope @valeriele3 @nymphsdomain @qwnelisa @elysiasbae @n3r0-1417 @cookichuu @dazaisfavgf @kairxse @kalims @scaranaris-lil-niko

a/n; THIS CHAPTER WAS SO MUCH MORE FUN TO WRITE THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE!! next chapter will be a sort of continuation to this!! updates might slow down now, i wanted to release the first 5 chapters daily and i might keep up with that as best as i can but i cannot make any promises! tysm for reading and i hope u all are taking care of yourselves ily

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #scaramouche genshin x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #scara #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi smau #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #the wanderer #hoyoverse #reverence

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whenyoucallmelover · 1 year

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masterlist!

by callmelover ✷

welcome! i'm june, also known as callmelover on ao3! i've written a handful of fanfics about louis & harry and figured it'd be helpful to put them all in one place for anyone who wants to check them out! x

feel free to leave a kudos or a comment! thank you, as always, for the love. <3

multi-part.

you taught me a lesson (…). ✷ fic post. 2/2. 5.1k. roommates. (sort of) enemies to more. the one where: harry and louis live together but like to ignore each other... until one day, they don't.

love is only for the brave. ✷ fic post. *cw: attempted sa. toxic/abusive relationship (not h&l). 7/7. 16.4k. exes to lovers. angst. the one where: louis and harry have an unexpected run-in that isn't quite how they planned to reunite after their breakup... and, as it seemingly always does, shit hits the fan.

one-shots.

desperate, as the night moves on. ✷ fic post. 2.3k. nsfw. light dom/sub. the one where: louis visits harry in germany, and harry really wants louis to fuck his face.

your first words (have yet to be said) ✷ fic post. 1.7k. sfw. light angst. gender things. the one where: harry just wants to be a mom and, luckily, he picked someone who was supportive.

i'll be yours forever ('til forever falls apart) ✷ fic post. 1.5k. sfw. pure fluff. the one where: louis and harry are so in love that love doesn't feel like a big enough word (ft. morning cuddles and just a little bit of kissing.

i don't ever tell you how i really feel (…). ✷ 3.5k. sfw. hurt/comfort. the one where: we see some moments throughout harry and louis’ day when harry has aphasia (and also the best friends in the world).

(twenty minutes later) wound up in the hospital. ✷ *cw: hospitals. 5.7k. sfw. sickfic. the one where: harry has the flu and louis is a protective, nervous-wreck of a boyfriend.

⭒ updated may 20, 2023.

#fics: masterlist #callmelover #larry fanfic #larry stylinson #larry fic #harry styles #louis tomlinson #hlficlibrary #thelarriefics #tracksintheam #trackinghappily #hlcreators #1dsource

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gendervapor14 · 11 months

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~ how to make a fanfiction masterlist on tumblr ~

a detailed guide for folks new to tumblr, or those who just want to use tumblr to link and organize their fanfiction :D

disclaimer: i did this on a PC, and tumblr likes to update and change the layout of everything, so some locations may be different for you. feel free to reply or DM with any questions and i will try my best to help you out!

first thing's first! locating your account. this will make it easier to find your posts. when you first log onto tumblr, there is a list of items to the left. find the one that says "account".

locate your blog. you may have to scroll a little to find it. once you see it, click on it!

that should open up your posts and reblogs. it's okay if this section is empty! mine displays my intro post, but don't worry, i'll show ya how to make one of those. for now, go ahead and click on the "create" button at the bottom left. (alternatively, there's a bar at the top center you could use. click on "text" if you prefer this option)

go ahead and select text post!

here you will be greeted to a blank text post. there's a space for a title and text. if you don't want a big title, you can just backspace and it'll default to regular text. feel free to experiment a little here. the colorful icons to the right allow you to insert photos, gifs, links, and more. if you type something and highlight the text, you'll find even more options!

enter whatever you'd like to greet people with if they visit your blog. some sort of introduction. i threw out some random basics here. you certainly don't have to format it like this! get crazy, insert some photos and use colored text if you like. at the bottom of your post, you'll see a section for tags. i recommend using tags relevant to whatever content you'll be posting, so others can find your blog easier. if you're on ao3 or another fanfic platform, i'll show you how to link that to your intro post! for now, just type something like "link to my fanfiction" or "link to my ao3", or whatever tickles your fancy.

then, highlight whatever part of the line you want to serve as your hyperlink. in this case, in the "link to my fanfiction" line, i highlighted "fanfiction". a small menu should automatically pop up above that. the second to last option looks like a chain link. that will allow you to insert a link on whatever you've highlighted. click on it.

an "http://" option will display. paste your desired link in the display bubble! for instance, i pasted the link to my ao3 dashboard.

next part is posting! don't worry, your intro post isn't done, i know. in order to move on, we need to make some more posts to link, so for now, we're just going to post this "incomplete" intro. you can always go back and edit posts, so it's no worry! the post button is at the bottom right.

in order to ensure the post stays at the top of your profile, you need to pin it. (i used a random post in my example because my intro is already pinned, but the mechanics are the same.) in the top right of your intro post, there will be three little meatball dots. click on those.

that'll open up a dropdown. click on "pin". then your intro will always remain at the top of your profile, even as you keep posting/reblogging.

next part is making the actual masterlist! create a new post (button on the bottom left --> text post) and fill it out however you wish! i listed some different things you can include to describe your stories, but i've seen people organize these by characters instead, or themes, or fandoms. basically, you're creating something that will link from your intro to this post. so write up whatever you want someone to be brought to after clicking the hypothetical "my fanfiction masterlist" link in your intro post. if that's just at temporary list of characters without any stories linked to them yet, that works! you can link stories to the masterlist later.

once you posted the masterlist (it's okay if it's incomplete), click on the meatballs for the masterlist post. (again, i'm using a random post here, disregard that)

click on the "copy link" option to obtain the link to that post.

then, find your intro post and click on the meatballs for that!

this time, you're going to click on "edit".

somewhere on your intro post, write up some text that will serve as the source for your fanfiction masterlist post. for this, i used "link to my fanfiction masterlist". then, i highlighted "fanfiction masterlist" to open the additional options menu, and clicked on the chain link to paste the link to my new fanfiction masterlist post! this process of copying links and implementing them into other posts is the foundation of making a masterlist. from here, you can make as many subcategories as you please and link them back to your main masterlist, which is linked to your intro. (or you can just make a few giant masterlists like i do XD)

BONUS LESSON: another fun part of tumblr is the tags! you can invent your own! if you're a writer, you can make your own writing tag. i use "genwrites" because it hasn't been used by anyone else, so anyone who clicks on that tag will only see posts of my writing. you can link tags to your intro post as well! i'll show you how.

creating a tag is as easy as slapping it on a post, even if tumblr doesn't seem to recognize it. that's a good sign. once you've posted something with the tag, it exists on the website. when you click on the tag, it should open up a page like this. it's alright if your tag page is mostly empty, it'll fill up as you create posts with your unique tag! from here, you're going to copy the URL of the entire page.

then, the same way you inserted your fanfiction website and your masterlist, you can link the URL of your tag page to your introduction post! linking things to posts on tumblr helps keep everything connected. you can link individual fanfics from their source site to titles on tumblr, link specific reference posts and analyses, and so much more!

this was a rather lengthy post, so it's totally understandable if you get confused or lost along the way. feel free to reach out and i'll try to help out however i can! i'm no master - i learned all this stuff by trial and error. takes some patience , but i hope this guide is at least a little helpful! ♥ happy writing and creating folks ♥

#tumblr guide #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #new to tumblr

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arlecchno · 2 years

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mission accomplished [ scaramouche x reader ]

twenty-three | thoughts and feelings

prev masterlist next

scaramouche seeks out to someone that could be of help for the case, and an encounter with the killer couple lead to him being invited to join them for the evening.

warnings: swearing, talk of abandonment issues, use of scara's real name, eimiko!!!!, mentions of killing, crime cases, etc, not exactly proofread bc i need to catch up on updating lol

a/n: sorry for the late update,, here's the long awaited chapter everyone's been waiting for! i think i like this one better than last? 5.2k words. happy reading!

grammatical errors may occur so please let me know if i've made any mistakes!

three weeks.

three whole weeks since the fight occurred.

three hellish weeks of you two avoiding each other.

and scaramouche seriously couldn't take it much longer.

“my, is there a reason why you'd be calling me, balladeer?” a woman's voice asked through scaramouche's computer screen.

the man huffed, looking away momentarily to rack through his brain. is he really going to do this?

“i'll just get to the point, miko.” he said, averting his attention back to the screen. “i... need you to do me a favour.”

yae chuckled, the signature mischievous smile adorning her face. “oh? little kunikuzushi wants my help?” she inquired. “that's quite surprising, given how you've cut ties with your mother.” scaramouche narrowed his eyes at her words.

“say, isn't it weird for you to still be in contact with her partner?” she continued further, not sparing any moment for the ravenette to reply.

scaramouche crossed his arms in annoyance. “i'd be more than happy to cut ties with you too if you keep on with that foolish act of yours.”

yae made a disgruntled sound, eye twitching at scaramouche's bold words. really, a mere detective seriously dare say such words to the renowned co-chair of the largest company in teyvat?

only someone like scaramouche would do such a thing.

“well then, elaborate.” she finally said, and scaramouche looked at her for a moment before darting his eyes elsewhere in the empty dorm.

yae grabbed ahold of her mug from the beside her computer as she waited for scaramouche to talk, taking a few sips of her drink. she looked at him expectantly.

scaramouche cleared his throat. “help me sort out my feelings.”

the woman in the screen almost spit out her coffee right then and there.

yae coughed, the bitter beverage hitting the back of her throat terribly. she took a moment to recollect herself before she replies, covering her mouth with her hand.

“you–” she coughed again. “you want to– what?” she asked in disbelief, her usual teasing tone and laid-back demeanour dissipating immediately.

scaramouche had a deadpanned look as he glared at the woman. “you obviously heard me loud and clear. i'm not repeating that.” he said, and yae almost had the urge to put him in his place, if she could even do that virtually.

it was funny to her, unbelievable, even. yae miko had never thought there would be a day where scaramouche would ever ask to help him with his feelings, or come to her for help in the first place.

she had known him long enough to know that this was probably a hard decision for him to make, going back to his old family after cutting ties with them would make her question why he'd do such a thing, but it'd be best to ask about it later.

for now though, she'd like to hear what the ravenette has to say.

yae cleared her throat. “...very well then, kunikuzushi.” she started, and scaramouche cringed at the name he deeply hated being used so casually. “get started.”

the pink-haired woman was shock to say the least.

“what?” scaramouche asked nonchalantly, pointing out her perplexed expression, wide eyes and mouth agape like someone who hasn't seen daylight in years.

“you...” she gritted her teeth, faking a smile. “you lied to me.”

the ravenette raised a brow. “did you really think i'd open up to you?” he questioned, arms crossed.

yae felt the very urge to end the call, but she simply couldn't do it due to her overly huge ego. the little bastard, she thinks. how dare he tricked her into thinking he was gonna open up to her. she scoffed at the thought.

yeah, right. as if he could even do that.

“why do you even need my help, kunikuzushi?”

“you can't fool me, miko.” he said. “or should i say... head commisioner?”

yae widened her eyes at his words. surely, he couldn't have...

she clenched her jaw. “pardon?”

scaramouche leaned in closer to his computer screen, his well-known scowl plastered on that porcelain face of his. “i'll have you know that i'm one of the best detectives you could ever find in teyvat, it wasn't that hard figuring out you were the secret head commissioner of snezhnaya police department that everyone tried hiding. despite you being the co-chair of my mother's company, it doesn't mean you don't have another job up your sleeve.” he concluded, leaning back to his seat.

yae huffed, brushing the nape of her neck with her hand. “you've got me well.” she looked at his face, one that looks a little too much like her wife's. “what do you even gain from knowing that?”

“i want you to do me favour.”

“...and that is?”

“help me on this case i'm working out. i've already elaborated the details to you a moment ago, when you seriously thought i'd ever be vulnerable to you.” he reminded.

the prestigious woman took her time on answering to his request, pondering on the thought of working with her... whatever the hell scaramouche is to her.

now, two things popped in her mind. firstly, how did he found out she was the well-hidden head commisioner of the police department? and why would he reach out to her, out of all people?

scaramouche is a professional at his job, and he's been praised over and over again for his never ending success on solving cases. so why would he even...

“don't you have that y/n of yours to help you?”

ah, yes, if yae miko recalled, she remembered you, the one that had always been giving scaramouche such a hard time during work, though still as professional as he is whenever needed. the last time she's seen you was roughly around a few years ago, when you and scaramouche had accidentally bumped into her downtown, while you two were working on a case together.

scaramouche froze at her words for a split second, and it didn't go unnoticed by her either. “she's... busy with something else.” he said, albeit a little too hesitantly, causing yae to suddenly smile, much like a cheshire cat.

“oh? something tells me you're not being quite honest to me, balladeer.” she remarked along with a soft chuckle, her usual demeanor coming back like a tidal wave had just hit scaramouche harshly.

it made the man curse himself even more for even deciding to do this.

“just get to the point. are you helping me or not?” he furrowed his brows at her, and she grinned even more at his words, resulting in scaramouche's indigo eyes glaring into her violet ones through the screen.

“no.”

scaramouche gritted his teeth, putting up a half smile with closed eyes. “what?”

“my, don't you think there should be a little price to pay, kid?” she smiled mischievously, and scaramouche scoffed at the word ‘kid’. “obviously, it won't cost that much. what kind of person would i be for asking too much, especially to my wife's only son?”

“i'm not her son. never was.”

yae looked at him. “ah, i see. you still hold resentment towards her.” scaramouche slightly flinched at her words, making him look elsewhere in pure annoyance. honestly, the nerve of this woman to even bring up such a topic baffles him.

of course, who wouldn't resent their parent for abandoning them at such a young age? scaramouche had endured a lot of struggles throughout his childhood, and none of them ei had helped him, let alone be physically there for him, always so busy with that stupid company of hers.

and now that he's all grown up, ei had the sheer audacity to come back to his life, as if she hadn't abandoned and neglected him all his life. there was absolutely no way the ravenette would ever accept her in his life again, hence why he's cut off all ties with his mother ever since he started working at the fatui precint.

the only reason he was still in touch with someone close to his mother, her one and only partner, yae miko, was due to the encounter from a few years back, and that was all yae's doing for him to end up still in contact with someone like her.

if it were scaramouche, he would've either shot himself or ran away to another nation than to ever talk with anyone close to his forsaken mother.

“what do you want from me in order to get you to help me on this case?” scaramouche said, changing the subject in an instant.

yae squinted her eyes at him through the screen, before sighing. “i'm only asking for one thing.” yae proposed, and scaramouche turned his head back to his computer, face still wary.

“fine. spit it out.”

“reconcile with your mother.”

scaramouche made a face— one that showed pure disgust and hatred, before bringing up a hand to hover his index finger over one of the keyboard key of his computer. “i'm not dealing with you anymore.”

“wait!” yae exclaimed, causing scaramouche to avert his attention back to the screen. “hear me out on this, would you?” she pleaded.

scaramouche groaned, using the hand he held out earlier to rake through his hair furiously. given how the woman had everything up her sleeve, scaramouche had previously prepared himself for this call, even went through such lengths to ready himself for the bombarded questions she would ask. yet such a favour like this was something he had never expected to come out of her mouth. ever.

it was already hard enough for him to stay out of touch from you, and now he has to deal with someone more insufferable. when will he ever catch a damn break?

“...why the hell do you want me to get along with that woman?”

yae frowned at his words. “because she was the one who cut off the news before your dear y/n's cover was blown.” she revealed, and scaramouche almost fell from his seat at the information.

“what?!” he scrambled in his chair, eyes wide in pure shock. his mother was the one who did that?

scaramouche took a moment to think, before everything became clear to him. right, his mother, ei, is the chairwoman of the largest news company in all of the nations in teyvat, she'd have all of the power to control everything that goes within the national news of each nation, snezhnaya included.

it was no doubt that she also had the power to cut off her own news channel in the middle of everything. but how...

“she found out about the trial through focalors, one of her many close friends who happened to be the chief justice of the courts in teyvat, apparently, the trial gained her attention.” yae explained, seemingly like she had read his mind. “she also found out about the case you were working on through the tsaritsa, if you've forgotten already, they're quite the acquaintance.”

oh but of course. his mother has a lot of connections throughout all of teyvat, most higher ups included. it was evident that she'd get any information she needed with just the tip of her fingers.

“why...” scaramouche trailed off, still trying to find the right words. “why would she even do all of that?”

yae smiled, one that looked genuine. “she's still your mother, kunikuzushi. she has her ways of caring for you, as much as you hate to look at it.” she said, making scaramouche the more confused.

“this– this is confusing me.” he commented, looking down on his lap. “she left me, yet she did all of those things...”

“i know it's a lot to take in, dear, and i promised ei to never talk about it to you, but it seemed like it was needed right now.” yae sighed, propping her arms on the table as she looked at scaramouche's confused expression through the screen. “it's fine if you don't want to make up with her, but i am hoping that you'd at least consider it. i'll still help you on the case whether your answer is a yes or a no.” she continued.

scaramouche scrunched his nose, before releasing a quiet huff. maybe, just maybe, it won't be so bad, right? the ravenette thought to himself. “i'll... think about it.” he mumbled, and yae simply smiled, relieved that he'd take it into consideration.

“thank you. now, what do you want me to help you with?”

scaramouche wanted to ask more questions to yae, especially the ones that revolved around her mother, but he figured that there'd be more time to do so.

the case is far more important right now.

“the campus looks quite lovely, don't you think?”

scaramouche scoffed. “get to the point. why do you want to meet up with me, miko?” he asked. “you know this is a big risk for me.” he pointed out towards the many students at the park to prove his point.

yae miko had asked the ravenette the other day to meet up, and given how scaramouche had to keep an eye on everything now that you're not with him made it the more difficult for him to leave campus whenever he liked, hence why yae had to go all the way to snezhnaya university to meet up with him.

“my, not even a greeting? how unflattering.” yae complained as she sat in front of scaramouche at the picnic table, and scaramouche rolled his eyes at her words. she had showed up in sunglasses and a hat, as per scaramouche's request, to avoid being recognised.

yae threw an a4 sized brown envelope, the manilla landing before scaramouche's arms on the table.

scaramouche raised a brow. “what's this?”

“some information i managed to gather for you. take a look.” she said as scaramouche grabbed the envelope and opened it up, pulling out the pictures and written details in it.

one particular picture caught his eye, as he laid down the others on the table, peering his eyes over the picture in his hands. it was a small cabin, of some sort. scaramouche furrowed his brows upon seeing the random picture.

“what does this cabin have to do with anything?” he questioned, and yae tapped her nails on the wooden table in boredom.

“viktor bought this cabin a few weeks ago.” scaramouche perked his head up swiftly. how did he miss such detail?

as if she had read his mind, yae continued with her sentence. “he bought it under someone else's card, hence why you couldn't have known about it.”

“do you know who the person is?”

yae smiled. “why of course. i'm not the head commissioner for nothing.” she said, and scaramouche waited for her to explain who it is. yae continued tapping her nails, clearly not even bothered to tell.

scaramouche glared at her. “aren't you gonna tell me who the other person is?”

“it wouldn't be fun if i were to just reveal it to you freely, no?” she inquired, making scaramouche click his tongue at her stupidly annoying behaviour.

“what the hell do you want now?”

yae brought up a hand to her mouth, as if in thought. it took her a moment before she looked back to scaramouche with a menacing smile. “tell me about y/n. i haven't seen her in a while.”

scaramouche flinched once again, and yae smirked even more at his actions. he darted his eyes elsewhere, looking at the many students going off on their ways instead. it was annoying how everyone else got to do their own thing without a care yet he had to be undercover for this stupid case.

“now, why do you look so tense? did i say something?”

scaramouche still didn't look at her. “i don't want to talk about it.” he said, huffing. “can we just go back to the main reason you came here?”

“should i go and meet her myself? if i remember correctly, you two are working on this case together.” she sighed dramatically, and scaramouche almost wanted to kick her out of here.

“archons– fine! i'll tell you about her, or whatever. just don't go around finding her.” he averted his gaze back to her with a furious expression.

yae clasped her hands. “excellent. now, start talking, little one.”

it had been around ten minutes now, and scaramouche finally stopped talking about you. yae miko listened intently to every single thing he had to say, whilst still paying attention to his facial expressions, ones that she had never expected he'd ever have.

after what felt like forever, yae spoke. “you've harboured feelings for her, haven't you?” she asked so suddenly, resulting in scaramouche jumping in his seat as he widened his eyes, body frozen up. the tips of his ears went red, face heating up from her words.

“what?!”

yae smirked at his embarrassed face, all red just from the mention of the possibilities of him liking you. “the way you talk about her tells me that you have such feelings for the young lady.” the more yae explained, the more he became beet red.

“i– no way!” scaramouche raised his hands to make a bunch of gestures, seemingly like he was denying of the idea. “impossible. i hate her guts. absolutely no way i would ever like her.”

yae pursed her lips at his denials. “mmm, maybe you're right... you'd never like her.” she muttered, and scaramouche sighed in relief, wiping off the sweat on his face. “because you love her.”

scaramouche jumped in his seat once again, eyes staring daggers into yae's striking violet ones. “that's– i don't– you!” he stammered, unable to form the right words, and yae simply chuckled in amusement at his actions.

it was amusing to her— the scene in front of yae miko reminded her too much of ei, with the same expressions, the same raven hair, the same signature red eyeliner adorning their eyes, everything. it was no doubt that they were the exact carbon copy of each other, yet their relationship were as broken as one's heart.

yae miko had always wished for them to go back as one, treating each other like family, but looking at how it is, it seemed like it'd take a while before either of them could even muster up the courage to be in each other's presence.

scaramouche gave up, landing his head on the wooden picnic table in frustration. “does it really look like i have feelings for her?” he asked, and yae shrugged, eyes scanning the ravenette.

“your embarrassed face says it all, kunikuzushi.”

he groaned loudly at the name, the one he absolutely hated. it was funny— whenever his family called him that forsaken name, he'd always either curse them out or wished that name never existed, but whenever you say his real name, it made his heart beat rapidly, as if that name never bothered him at all, as if you've made that name sound good with your tongue.

is that what it really means to like someone?

“...please don't tell my mother about this.”

“what? about y/n, or about the way you pleaded for me to help you with this case?”

scaramouche groaned again, head perking up to meet her eyes. “both.” he said. scaramouche sat up properly to arrange all of the needed information back into the brown envelope. standing up, scaramouche looked down to yae miko, who was still sitting on the bench.

“pretend this meeting never happened.” he informed as he turned around, already on his way back to his dormitory before he was stopped by yae's voice.

“kunikuzushi.”

scaramouche looked over his shoulder, just enough to peer over the pink-haired woman. “what now?” he asked with that signature scowl of his.

“tell her how you feel, before it's too late.” she muttered, expression suddenly turning soft, one that scaramouche hadn't expected would appear. “i'm sure she'd feel the same way.”

he furrowed his brows, turning his head away so that he'd be on his way. “that's none of your business.” said scaramouche, and after a few steps, he was stopped once again by yae's next words.

“and i'm sure your mother would want you to find someone who truly loves you.”

scaramouche didn't respond.

it was always nice to have a walk, especially after a dreadful day full of classes. the campus was as busy as ever, with students chatting up with one another whilst walking, doing small study groups outside, it was all so thrilling to see. at some point, you may or may not have wished that you’d become a student once again.

it saddens you when you realise that this is all just temporary, and that you’d come back to your usual police job once this case ends. you can't deny that adult life is hard as hell. and quite boring, if you might add.

“y/n.”

upon hearing the very familiar voice that you know so well, you immediately stopped the ongoing thoughts, snapping your head up to the man you were hopelessly trying to avoid.

you had just finished your mass communication class, and if you could recall, scaramouche had no classes for the day. so why would he come all the way down to the social sciences building, which was at least a fifteen minute walk from his dorm?

“w- what- what are you doing here?!” you yelped, holding your books and files a little tighter, snapping your head left and right to see if there were other students looking at you two. you’re not sure if the reason for it was to just keep your guard up, or the fact that you’re trying to not look at scaramouche’s annoyingly attractive face that you've slowly grown to like.

scaramouche rolled his eyes at your antics. “calm down, i’m just here to give you a copy of this.” he handed you a brown envelope, and you hesitantly took it, slowly opening the manilla and looking inside for the contents. “thought you might need them.”

due to the lack of space inside, you barely got to look at what they were, but you already had an inkling. of course, it’s probably some leads for the case, what else would it even be? this man would never go this far just to spit out nonsense, or pull out a prank even.

“where did you get these?” you asked, closing back the envelope as you tucked it in between your files and books in your arm. “someone from the precint would’ve notified me if there were any new leads they've found.” you said, eyes still avoiding the male in front of you.

scaramouche shoved his hands in his pockets. “i… have my ways. you don’t need to know where i got them.”

what? you silently said, forehead wrinkling in deep thought. where in the world did he even get such information out of the precint? and is that… even allowed?

“you’re not getting these illegally, now are you? y’know you can get your detective badge revoked from that right?” you inquired, eyes darting to the floor.

he clicked his tongue. “of course i know that, idiot.” he muttered, slowly stepping closer to you. “case-related questions aside, why aren’t you looking at me?”

huffing, you moved your gaze from the floor, opting to look to your left instead, still avoiding his stare. obviously you’d not be looking him directly in the eye, there was no way you’d be doing that after everything! and honestly, this was the first time you two have talked ever since the fight, how the hell are you even supposed to look at him without having the need to punch the living shit out of him?

“do i need to?” scaramouche heave out a breath between a laugh and a scoff, causing you to fake a cough, hand covering the front of your mouth in a fist. “w-well… i uh- i need to get going.” you stuttered, turning your body around. taking a few steps, you headed towards the other way. “see ya around then-”

scaramouche swiftly grabbed ahold your wrist, his grip on you strong enough to not make you wriggle out your way, but also still not harsh enough that it’d hurt you. “y/n.” he said coldly, making you sweat even more.

“uh- y-yeah? y’need anythin’?”

“the dorms are this way.” he stated. “you’d be going back to the building if you went that way.”

“oh.”

he suddenly let out a chuckle as he looked at your look of realisation. “come on, i’ll walk you back.” he offered, and you finally turned to look at him, the first time you ever did since the conversation started.

“ah, it- it’s fine. i can walk back on my own, there’s really n-no need to!” you exclaimed. you cursed yourself in your head, archons, why do you keep on stammering? you've never been this fidgety before!

scaramouche pointed out to the orange sky, an indication that the sun was almost setting, and that the night was greeting. “it’s pretty late. i don’t want you to walk alone this time around.”

looks like you really can’t escape from him after all.

“did you really walk all the way to the social sciences department for me?”

scaramouche shrugged as the two of you kept walking down the path. “it was the only possible way to gain your attention without you running off from me, like you always did for the past month.” he commented, causing you to slightly squeak at his statement. right, of course he’d notice that. he isn’t that dumb to not notice such minor detail.

“uh- sorry… for um, that.”

the ravenette hummed, tugging your hand. ah, right, he still hasn't let go of your hand.

you've tried different ways to get his hold off of you for the whole time you two were walking, yet his grip was still as firm as he first held your wrist earlier, no doubt that his training from the police academy trained him to be this strong. it resulted with you giving up on your feeble attempts, reluctantly letting your wrist being tugged by scaramouche for the rest of the walk.

the sky has now become darker, the faint hues of blue already drowning out the sunset. the walk back to yun jin's dorm was quite far, and you always wondered how yun jin could survive going to class every day like this.

if it were you, you would've moved out by now.

“how was viktor today? any new changes?” scaramouche broke the awkward silence, and you glanced at him momentarily. the male beside you still had his eyes looking forward, the bundle of scarves covering half of his face.

it was almost the winter season, and due to the changing weather, it was reasonable for everyone to prepare themselves for the harsh snow to hit snezhnaya.

you breathed out a huff, the action making you see your own breath appearing in the cold air. “he's the same as ever, i'm surprised he hasn't killed anyone yet.” you commented. “it's been over two months since he last killed someone, kinda weird if you ask me.”

“do you… ever think that we got the wrong person?” scaramouche asked suddenly, and you averted your attention back to him, stopping in your tracks, scaramouche doing the same soon after.

“what makes you think that?” you questioned, arching a brow. “all the evidence we've got so far leads back to him, and him alone.”

scaramouche raised a hand to scratch his temple. “not the ones i've given you a moment ago.” he stated, causing you to widen your eyes.

“what do you mean by that?”

“everything in that envelope are new evidence i've gotten, and all of it leads to a whole different person.”

you subconsciously tugged his hand, bringing him a bit closer. “who?”

“they lead to–”

“luna! is that you?” a voice interrupted, resulting in the two of you looking forward, the sight of yun jin and viktor side by side greeting the both of you. it looked like they've just got here as well.

now that you realised, you've both arrived in front of the building of yun jin's and viktor's dorm, so you were bound to meet them like this.

you quickly tugged scaramouche's hand off of you, and scaramouche instantly kept some distance away from you.

you waved a hand. “h- hey yun jin! and viktor.” you greeted sheepishly, and the both of them smiled happily as they waved you back, heading towards the two of you.

“did you two make up? it seemed like you guys were getting along pretty well.” yun jin tentatively asked.

both you and scaramouche jumped slightly at the mention of resolving your problems, awkwardly avoiding each other's gaze by looking at your opposite ways.

“o-oh, maybe not…” yun jin trailed off.

scaramouche cleared his throat, hands shoved in the pocket of his pants. “i should get going.”

yun jin clasped her hands loudly in the quiet and awkward atmosphere, causing everyone to look at her. “ah, it's still a little early, ivan.” she remarked as she glanced at you. she stared at you for a few seconds, and you wondered what she was about to do for a moment before you widened your eyes, frantically shaking your head at her for what she's about to say.

you've always seen how girls in movies or shows could telepathically talk to each other in their minds, and you really hoped that it could actually work in reality, because if it were possible, yun jin would've heard all of your refusals and string of curses by now.

“why don't you join us for dinner? viktor was gonna be visiting my dorm since i'm cooking.” she offered, and you silently groaned. “it'd be nice if you joined us!”

why in teyvat would she even do that, especially after knowing that you two haven't reconciled?! that was literally just a second ago!

you snapped your head to scaramouche, eyes scanning his face to see if he was having any sort of discomfort. seemingly knowing you were staring at him, he turned to look at you, making quite a face. it took you a second to figure out that he was silently asking if it'd be okay to join or if he should be going back.

to you, it was a sight to see. strands of his raven hair swaying with the wind, that beautiful porcelain face of his, with that awfully pretty smile that carved onto his face brightening up the night was everything you needed to see.

looking at it, this was the first time in a few weeks that you've ever got to see him in such a longing moment, and you hopefully wished you could picture this forever.

you wished you could just make everything last longer, with just you and him.

it briefly reminded you how much you missed this view. or simply to say, how much you missed scaramouche.

smiling softly, you nodded at him, and he smiled back, one that you knew was genuine. scaramouche averted his attention back to yun jin, telling her that he'd be joining for dinner.

yun jin grinned, eyes forming crescents like the moon in the sky. “splendid! let's get going now, everyone's gonna get a cold if we stay out here much longer.” she said, urging everyone to enter the building.

both yun jin and viktor went in first, leaving you and scaramouche alone outside.

you two looked at each other once again, your smiles never faltering, definitely not now, at least.

scaramouche grabbed ahold of your hand out of the blue, tugging you along with him as he headed for the building.

your cheeks heated up, taken aback.

you're not sure if it was due the cold weather, or the butterflies that were currently churning in your stomach.

clickbaiting with titles is so fun i wanna do this again

taglist; @beriiov @hopesandlegacy @cloudsandrenoswife @salamiwrites @thenightsflower @bleedingwhiteroses222 @lisiastak021 @yuuki4646 @lez-zuha @ryhie @sleepy-waffle @yoursockstinks @shizunxie @kunikame @kunikuzushiit @anonwhocried @vqqrii @luminesuprrmacy @calxb-do @sixscara @xooya @mobiussdarling @mafukissu @antri13 @ireallylikehamsters @hejtorii @moatsnow @sinnersbyfear @cloudxemoji @yashimeto @kaoyamamegami @brokensmileandtears

(unfortunately i am unable to tag those that are in bold, i'm sorry!)

want to be added to the taglist?

#h✧˖—mission accomplished #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi

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