#also I looked down at my phone for one second and looked back and it had vanished

[ecrivainsolitaire]

You lost me at "commonly advertised". Marketing people are idiots, I am not concerned with the bullshit they spew, but if I had to I would say people still have free will. Choosing to cheat regardless of method is a decision about personal values, not advertising.

There's this thing called checking, which is when you click on a thing and see if it's real or not. Takes like half a second plus loading time. That too is a choice.

The expense is a factor of newness; it's getting faster and more efficient by the day because that's the only way to make it profitable. You get half a point that will be deducted in due time.

Even so, what's the expense of one AI search versus the expense of having your computer on for hours until you finally reach the 14th page of google? All those websites loading as well. That's harder to quantify, but it's not zero.

Precisely because you can't know which technology is going to succeed is that the answer is always trying more things, not less. That's a point on my favour.

I was a teenager when smartphones were invented and there was absolutely tons of backlash. To this day there are multiple multi billion dollar corporations trying to invent a compromise between old phones and smartphones because a lot of people still hate them but cannot function without them in today's society. This too will be true for AI in due time.

2023 studies are four AI generations old. They get less relevant by the minute. Try something post Deepseek, and hope they don't invent a new LLM before it gets peer reviewed.

People have predicted five apocalypses within my lifetime. Not an argument.

That is also a matter of choice. People can choose to think, with or without AI, and they can choose to let their brain atrophy, with or without AI. This is the third time you've made an equivalent argument to "you won't always have a calculator on you". Guess what, I have four of them within arm's reach, but I can still do division on paper, because I choose to use that skill. And that's true for millions of people. Fuck, China still has abacus competitions. That's 2000 year old technology that can save people thinking. Guess what discipline China also outcompetes the West in during global competitions?

I still haven't said AI should replace any other tool. My argument from the beginning has been that it is a complement.

I pay zero for AI, I only use the free version because thanks to open source software what normally would've taken decades of trade warring between corporations got swept away by a free alternative. The solution to corporate tools taking a hold of people's lives is not to destroy the tools, it's to destroy the corporations. And the easiest way to destroy corporations is to ensure everyone has access to their services for free. Abstain from AI for the brains is just as effective as abstain from meat for the cows. It won't work and also it makes you look like a douche.

Plato was against writing because it atrophied long term memory. Now we write everything down, and our memory has definitely suffered. Would you say that we'd be better off as a species if we gave up writing now that we have it and went back to doing things Plato's way? Or did releasing the brain off the burden of memorising everything allow for other areas of human cognition to develop?

Do you have an argument that doesn't depend on most of humanity being lazy degenerates who don't give a shit about the consequences of their actions, or do all your points come straight from the mouth of Margaret Thatcher?

"what did students do before chatgpt?" well one time i forgot i had a history essay due at my 10am class the morning of so over the course of my 30 minute bus ride to school i awkwardly used by backpack as a desk, sped wrote the essay, and got an A on it.

six months later i re-read the essay prior to the final exam, went 'ohhhh yeah i remember this', got a question on that topic, and aced it.

point being that actually doing the work is how you learn the material and internalize it. ChatGPT can give you a short cut but it won't build you the the muscles.

[averyisnotpresent]

long time coming family-friend!pazzi au

𓇼 in which: azzi fudd has been counting down the days until her summer vacation begins and she gets to reunite with her best family-friends. but something feels different about this year. why are her quiet moments with paige so loud, and why does her stomach curl when they embrace like it never had before? (slightly TSITP inspired)

𓇼 warnings: swearing, sexual content (fingering- both receiving)

𓇼 wc: 8.8k

𓇼 avery's note: hi! this is my first time writing smut so i hope it's not too bad. some events in this story are kinda childish i guess you could say, but obviously i wasn't gonna make them minors so just ignore that! also imagine azzi's like 5 inches shorter than paige (it's for the plot😉) live react if you can! | my masterlist

The cool breeze combs through Azzi’s curly hair and the beaming sun lights up her tanned skin. The light illuminates the smile plastered onto her face, the one she’s been wearing this whole car ride. These summers were the things Azzi had been counting down the days until, getting more and more eager as the “days until” countdown she had on her phone got lesser and lesser.

She begins to pack up the things splayed around her as she passes the bright blue sign: “Silver Lake, MI”. The best memories Azzi can think of come from this place, on the beach, fruity drink in hand, but most of all, the people she spends it with - the Bueckers.

From the very first Silver Lake getaway, Azzi and Paige stuck like glue. Azzi might have only been 8 years old, but everyone surrounding them knew those two were inseparable, and would continue to be. 10 years later, Paige just finishing her freshman year of college and Azzi preparing to start hers, their bond was no different. The two girls had been texting nearly every day of the school year, not being able to contain their excitement until they got back to where they were happiest.

Azzi messily folds up the blanket she had been wrapped in and stuffs it in the backpack laying at her feet. The warm Michigan air floods Azzi’s skin when she rolls the window down further and breathes in the salty smell of home. She peels the navy hoodie she had been wearing over her neck, leaving her outfit to be made of jean shorts and a flowery tube top. Strings draw two lines from the hem of her tube top over her shoulders and back down: her pink bikini top peeking through. 

Jon, Azzi’s young brother, elbows her in the side from the seat next to her: “Who you tryna’ impress, huh?”

“Nobody. This is just how I dress, weirdo.” Azzi shoots back, rolling her eyes and tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “It’s like 90 degrees. I just don’t wanna melt into a puddle the second I step outside.” Jon smacks his lips, giving Azzi an eye roll of his own before kicking the back of his dad’s seat.

Before Jon can even open his mouth, Tim lifts his hand, quieting Jon down before he can pester him. “Three minutes tops and we’ll be there. Bob just texted me saying he and everyone else got there a little bit ago.” Azzi and Jon both grin wider than they were before, excited to see their loved ones after much too long of a time apart.

The three minutes pass slowly, agonizingly even. Azzi unbuckles her seatbelt before Tim has even got close to the white house’ driveway and her door is open before he can even think about shifting into park.

Sitting on the porch is Paige, long blonde, slightly wavy, hair cascading down her pale back and lips curved into a smile just as big as Azzi’s. Blue swirly basketball shorts cover her legs and a plain white t-shirt hangs off her tall frame. Paige slams down the phone in her hand, letting it topple over to the ground when it flips off of the table she set it on, and runs over to Azzi.

Azzi chuckles a little under her breath, giggling at how funny Paige looks running over to her, but doesn’t seem to care much when Paige wraps her arms around her waist and embraces her in a tight hug. Paige rests her head on Azzi’s shoulder as her breath fans into Azzi’s ear. “Hey, Az.” Paige whispers, excitement filling her voice, but also some sort of relief. Like she couldn’t stand another minute being away from the curly head.

Azzi goes to greet Paige back, but before she can get any words out, Paige lifts Azzi up, spinning her around by her waist and watching as Azzi’s smile grows, despite her groans of protest and the look of annoyance in her eyes.

“I was about to say I missed you, but y’know what? I’m not so sure I do after that.” Azzi says, and while her voice has a tone of sass, Paige knows underneath it all she’s joking. Or at least she hopes so.

“I would argue back, but I’m actually a kind person and am happy to see you. I swear the school years seem longer every year.” Paige answers back, finally surrendering Azzi to the ground and letting her out of her grasp.

She takes this time to fully drink in the picture of Azzi. She looks about the same as last year, but she seems to be glowing in a way she never had before. She seems to carry a newfound confidence with her. Paige knows Azzi never would have worn something like this last summer, at least not anywhere where her brothers could see her, that is.

Azzi brings her head up from smoothing out a wrinkle in the flowered fabric and her dimples pop out as she smiles from Paige’s sentiment. “Maybe I missed you too, Bueckers. But only maybe.” Azzi admits, a purplish blush flushing her cheeks with her slight white lie.

“Hey, Paige!” Tim hollers from behind his family’s car, “You wanna give me a hand with these bags or what? Put those empty hands to work?”

“I gotchu.” Paige accepts, leaving Azzi in her flushed state to go grab a bag or two from the Fudd’s trunk. She daps Tim up before he pulls her into a hug.

“Good to see you kid.” Tim greets, used to being ignored during these trips for his daughter. Paige agrees, then hoists Azzi’s backpack from the backseat over her shoulder and grabs the matching duffel bag in her free hand, the other holding Katie, Azzi’s mother,'s beach bag.

Paige trudges forward with the bags weighing down her arms, Azzi shamelessly letting her eyes follow the Paige's flexed biceps. Her sleeves are slightly rolled after the straps of Azzi’s backpack moved them, and the slopes of her arm knot with every step.

“Did you wanna carry any of your things or am I your butler now?” Paige teases, already halfway into the house, Azzi following suit.

“Y’know what, I think I’m okay actually. Thanks for offering though.” Azzi jokes, letting Paige carry her things up to the room she designated hers a decade ago.

“Yeah alright, princess. Don’t be expecting me to do anything else like this.” Paige scoffs, and Azzi knows she’s rolling her eyes in front of her. Once Paige sets Azzi’s stuff down on her bed, leaving Katie’s beach bag at the top of the stairs, she grabs Azzi’s hand and tugs her right back down the stairs.

“That your suit on under there?” Paige confirms, earning a nod from Azzi as well as a knowing look. She does this every year.

Paige grabs two towels from atop the kitchen table downstairs and folds them over her shoulder. “We’re heading to the beach!” Paige calls up to her parents, she gets no response and just shrugs before grabbing Azzi again and rushing outside.

“Be safe!” Katie yells, still helping her sons get their things out of the car and trying to settle an argument between Jon and Jose over God knows what. Azzi rolls her eyes, annoyed with how protective her mom still is, but can’t be bothered for long.

Her and Paige start down the worn-grass path down to the beach, birds around them singing, like they’re just as happy as Paige and Azzi to be back.

“So,” Paige starts, “UCLA, huh? They’re lucky to have you.” Paige sounds a little bitter as she says the last part. She had been hoping Azzi would come to UConn with her, so they could finally see each other without having a year break in between. But Azzi was striving for somewhere with better academics. She had always been smart, and so had Paige, but never like Azzi.

Azzi got into UConn of course, but she knew she’d be doing herself a disservice if she went there. And thought it hurt Paige, she understood.

“I’m sorry, P. I wanted us to live out our little eight-year old dreams, but it just wasn’t gonna work.” Azzi admits. Her voice is sorrowful, like she truly means everything she’s saying.

“We’ve got all of summer. And when these summers stop, we’ve gotta promise we’ll still see each other.” Paige pleads. She knows she sounds immature, but that’s always what these summers are. She can be a kid again. She can be herself again. And she gets to be herself with Azzi.

“Agreed. Now stop being sentimental, we just got here!” Azzi scolds, punching Paige lightly on the shoulder without any malice behind it. Both girls smile at the contact and the grins stay put as they keep walking.

“So,” Azzi begins a new line of questioning. “How has college been? You finally find yourself someone special?” Paige has always been a fan-favorite everywhere she goes with… well, everyone. Guys and girls basically fall at her feet whenever she goes out in public and while Paige never complains or really turns them down, she never says yes either.

Paige has the kind of demeanor where you catch her eye from across the room and immediately are sucked in. She has the most genuine eyes, and if you see them once, they’re pretty hard to forget. She’s attractive, there’s no getting past that, but in a sort of mysterious way. Where you wonder why she doesn’t say yes to all the people offering themselves up to her. Not that Azzi’s been wondering or anything. ‘Cause she definitely hasn’t.

“Unfortunately I’ve been pretty busy with, you know, the academic part of college.” Paige laughs at Azzi’s question and slightly giggles while she answers. “A couple people tried, but no one stuck. What about you? I saw that guy you went to prom with on your Instagram. What’s up with him?”

Azzi scoffs out of what Paige interprets as disbelief, like she couldn’t believe Paige would even think that. “JD? He’s just a friend. One of his friends was going with Miranda, you know Miranda,” Paige nods along, “and I needed a date, so.” Azzi pauses, swallowing and breathing in for the first time since before she started her explanation. “End of story.”

Paige nods, not really having anything much else to add to the topic. “You look different this year, Az.” Paige admits after a few moments of silence. Not awkward though, it never is with them. At least before now.

“Different?” Azzi repeats, not sure if she heard Paige right. Paige nods and Azzi racks her brain for what she could mean. “Good different or bad different?”

“I dunno.” Paige starts to explain casually. “More - I don’t know - sure of yourself, I guess. Less shy.” Paige looks over at Azzi to see her facial expression which she can’t read. Paige has always prided herself with being perceptive, knowing how people are feeling, but she has no idea what Azzi’s thinking. To clarify, she speaks again, “Or maybe I’m making it all up. It’s been a while since last summer.”

Azzi knows what Paige is saying. She is different, I guess you could say, than last summer. Less scared. I mean, she’s an adult now. She can’t be scared to go to a party or wear a crop top anymore. Or maybe she can. But her friends from back home are very confident that she can’t.

“Azzi?” Paige breaks Azzi’s dissociation. “You in there?” Paige asks, waving a hand in front of Azzi’s wide, brown eyes. “I asked if you wanted to jump off the dock.”

Azzi blinks quickly a few times, bringing herself back to focus at the sound of Paige’s slightly raspy voice. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.” Azzi mumbles out, trying not to stumble over her own feet.

The two girls reach the beach, the sand hitting their feet and sticking to the bottoms of their sandals. “Race you to the dock?” Paige suggests, the little kid competitiveness she never grew out of shining through.

“Oh, you are so on.” Azzi challenges, counting down to three and sprinting like her life depends on it. Just like when they were little.

Some things never change.

Paige reaches the dock first, just like she’s been doing for the past ten years and Azzi groans as she arrives just a few seconds too late. “You’re like five inches taller, this is not fair!” Azzi complains, pouting like she did when she and Paige did this the first time.

As Azzi bends over and catches her breath, her hands falling to her knees and her breaths short and loud, and Paige watches her, hard. The way her chest rises and falls, and her teeny little bikini top poking through more and more with each breath. The way little sweat beads wet her forehead and collarbone before she quickly wipes them away.

But, before Paige can allow herself to get too wrapped up in the brunette, she places her large hands on either side of her shoulders and pushes her into the water.

Azzi lets out a squeal as she falls into the water, clothes on and all, her side hitting the water with a splat.

As she swims back up the surface she pushes a loose curl out of her eye and catches her breath from her unexpected entrance. She pulls a hand up from under the water and flings a big splash of water at Paige, soaking through her white shirt and getting in her eyes.

“Chill, I was gonna get in anyways.” Paige says as she strips her clothes, peeling off her now very wet shirt and dampened shorts. She’s wearing a black bikini, though it’s not as feminine as Azzi’s is. The top is cut with a straight line rather than Azzi’s triangle bikini, the two girls’ personalities showing out in their styles.

Azzi studies her as she strips, and thinks that maybe Paige is the one who seems different this year. She looks at Azzi like she’s never done before, and Azzi smiles wider than she ever had. A year is a long time I guess.

Time to change.

“Throw me your clothes, Az.” Paige offers, holding her arms out to catch Azzi’s drenched clothes. Azzi struggles to unbutton and slide down her shorts while she treads water, her legs being just barely too short to stand in the deep blue water.

Once Azzi’s left in her bikini she throws her clothes up to Paige, who catches both pieces with one hand like it’s nothing, balling them up and lying them next to her clothes.

“Watch out, princess.” Paige warns as she jumps into the cool water, cannonballing and drenching Azzi, if it’s even possible for her to get wetter than she already is.

“God, you’re so annoying, Paige.” Azzi says as she spits water out of her mouth, coughing slightly when Paige comes to the surface.

“Yeah, but you still love me.”

“Can’t seem to figure out why.”

☀︎༄.° two weeks later ☀︎༄.°

Azzi is scrolling on her phone in bed when a knock arrives at her door and she knows who it is even before the blonde strolls into her room.

Cooking book in hand, smug smile on her face, and hair pulled back into a low bun, Paige hangs in Azzi’s door frame, leaning against the wood like she wants something Azzi has.

“Can I… help you, Paige?” Azzi laughs, pressing her phone into her white comforter, shutting away Instagram and zoning into Paige.

“Can you help me bake? I was ‘sposed to make cookies for tonight but I might have burned them. Only like hypothetically, though.” Paige’s cheeks flush, slightly embarrassed with her cooking skills, even if she claims it’s not her fault.

“How do you even mess up cookies? Put the ingredients in, put them in the oven for like 8 minutes and you’re done. They’re like the simplest dessert.”

“Are you gonna gloat or actually help? ‘Cause I can make you eat burnt cookies if you want.”

Azzi pushes herself off her bed, pushing a few empty candy wrappers to the side and brushing off the invisible dust on her tank top. “I’ll help.” Azzi grudgingly agrees. “Only because I’m terrified for what you might make me eat.”

Azzi and Paige wind down the stairs of their beach home, finding their way to the kitchen with giggles and smiles shared between them along the way.

As they arrive, Azzi sees the tray of Paige’s first baking attempt, the ashes falling through the slots of the cooling dish and landing on the marble counter.

“Again, I pose the question: How do you even mess up cookies this badly?” Azzi laughs, not even trying to hide her disbelief with Paige’s… lack of talent, we’ll say.

“I think I forgot a couple things. Like y’know the eggs… and maybe the flour and baking soda.” Paige comes to the conclusion that she forgot at least half of the ingredients and left them in the oven for double the time they needed, but Azzi’s just grateful she didn’t burn the house down.

“Open up that book and find the recipe. Then you're gonna let me tell you what ingredients to get and I’m gonna double and triple check you actually got all of them.” Azzi orders, her voice stern but still partly playful.

“Yes, ma’am.” Paige smirks.

Azzi’s stomach churns. She doesn’t know why.

Paige flips through the old cooking book, its pages yellowed and filled with oily fingerprints from all of the times her and Azzi did this in years past. “We wanna do chocolate chip right?” Paige asks and Azzi nods her head to confirm.

“Alright, I got the page. Oven goes to 375.” Azzi walks over to the silver oven, making a tone out of the beeps as she punches in the numbers to preheat the oven.

Azzi walks back over, Paige’s eyes along with her, and steals the cooking book from Paige. “Go to the pantry and get both sugars, flour, baking soda and powder.” Azzi demands, Paige leaving her side to go get the ingredients.

Paige comes back with the containers balanced on various parts of her body, the large bags of flour held tightly in her oversized hands. Azzi’s watches as her fingers flex from the weight of the bags.

Her stomach continues to churn. Reason still unknown to Azzi.

Azzi’s leaned against one of the set of cabinets, reading the manual for what materials for Paige to get next. “We need vanilla extract and chocolate chips, too.”

Azzi, not realizing she’s in front of the cabinet that holds both of those things, continues to engross herself in the cooking book, mind forgetting Paige and the organization of their kitchen.

Paige, not finding it necessary to ask Azzi to move, reaches her hand over Azzi’s head, her hand meeting the cabinet handle with ease. Paige’s hands are now full with more cooking supplies as she comes down, and Azzi, who still hasn’t realized the precarious position they’re in, is stagnant in her position from earlier.

Paige begins to tip off balance, leaning away from Azzi as to not hit her, but out of sorts from the way she’s leaning. As she starts to slip she quickly lets the bag of chocolate chips drop the counter to free up one of her hands, which falls to Azzi’s bare waist for stability.

“Thanks for moving, princess. Almost knocked me over.” Paige thanks sarcastically, her hand still wrapped around Azzi’s hip bone, her cool hand heating up at the contact with Azzi’s warm skin.

Azzi looks up from her book finally, her eyes first finding Paige’s bright blue eyes, then her pale hand on her, then up to her eyes again. Paige looks deep into Azzi’s brown eyes, staring with some sort of uncertainty and nervousness. Her hand shakes ever so slightly, so minimally that Azzi barely even notices it, goosebumps forming under Paige’s calloused palms.

Neither girl moves, cooking book still in Azzi’s arms, vanilla in Paige’s free hand, slight perplexed smile on both girls' faces. Paige breathes in, her grip on Azzi tightening as she does, not in a harsh way, just like she wants to be closer.

Paige is the first to break the silence: “You’re so pretty, Az. You know that?”

Azzi breathes out shakily, her and Paige’s trance broken and suddenly the silence between them is loud. Uncomfortable.

She can hear the air conditioner purring, the fridge buzzing, her parents talking faintly with Paige’s on the porch on the opposite side of the home.

Azzi’s the first to pull away, Paige’s hand falling to the counter, the contact making a loud ‘slap’ noise as its descent finishes.

“Did you get the stuff?” Azzi asks, ignoring Paige’s compliment and focusing back in on the task at hand.

“Yeah.” Paige says slowly and softly. Her voice has a slight tone of surprise, like she was expecting Azzi to say something different. Or maybe less expecting and more so hoping. “Yeah I got ‘em.”

☀︎༄.° three weeks later ☀︎༄.°

Azzi was shoving a few of her clothes and as many blankets as she could find into her duffel bag as the sky began to turn from a light blue to a deeper navy. The birds were loud, the sun was hot, and the bugs were buzzing, but she didn’t care.

This was always the best part of summer.

One night a summer, the Bueckers and Fudds slept under the stars, sometimes in tents if it was raining, but no matter what: the last day of the vacation, this was their tradition.

The kids played a game of flag football that grew much too competitive much too quickly and the adults played cornhole and sipped on their beers.

Tim and Bob self identify themselves as chefs, and cook every typical barbecue food you could think of, and nothing more than a grain is ever left over.

The beach house sat atop a hill, the backyard stretching at least three acres, with a clear path down to the beach that was just their own, until their younger neighbors tried to sneak in occasionally.

Azzi loved the privacy: loved feeling like she had a place that was just her own, and her family’s of course.

As Azzi finished packing in an extra pair of socks, Paige walked in through the open door, her navy backpack slung over her newly tanned shoulder.

Paige’s bright red, burned skin finally turned to a tan, her pale skin never tanning easily. Like clockwork, Paige gets a near third degree burn halfway through the summer when she’s decided “sunscreen isn’t for her” and everyone else groans, knowing they’re in for at least a week of her complaining after.

“Do you know if it’s supposed to rain tonight? Your dad was asking if we should grab the tents.”

Azzi shook her head, knowing her weather app told her there was a 0% chance from when she checked earlier. “Just bring our sleeping bags from the laundry room. I’ll be out in a second.”

Paige nods, leaving Azzi to zip up her bag and turn off her lights. The kids made a rule years ago, much too outdated at this point to still be following, that they couldn’t bring phones, and once outside, they couldn’t go back in. Hence, sleeping in a gross tent rather than in their warm, more importantly, roofed, beds.

The families piled in outside, throwing their bags and blankets to the couches on the back porch and leaving to go set up the games. Azzi shook the can of washable spray paint in her hand, drawing poor wavy lines in the grass to make a makeshift field with a halfway line and some uneven end zones.

The teams had been the same as long as Azzi could remember, and once Drew, Paige’s much younger brother, was born, he just joined in with Paige, not really being old enough to contribute anyways.

Azzi played a quick game of rock-paper-scissors with Jose, the boy winning the game and awarding himself the position on offense. He stood behind Jon, who held the football in his hands, bent over and ready to throw.

Jon threw the ball to Jose, who caught it with ease. Jon ran out into the field waiting for Jose to pass it back, Paige sticking to him like glue, her tall figure towering over his. Azzi instructed Drew to count to five and then run over to Jose and pull his flag.

Drew counted softly, Azzi holding him in place as he counted to five in less than two seconds. “You little cheater.” Azzi teased before letting him go after a real count of five.

Drew chased after Jose, trying to pull at his red flag. Jose managed to pull himself away from Drew, throwing a rushed pass to Jon near the halfcourt line. Jon threw himself forwards in an attempt to catch the pass, pushing Paige over with him and both of them toppling to the ground.

They both fell to the hard dirt with a bit of a groan, the grass not very forgiving after it’d been run around on and mowed so many times. Azzi rushed over to Paige, Jon already being helped up by Drew. Paige sat up slowly, lifting her shirt up at the hem to see if a bruise was forming.

Azzi watched intently at the reveal of skin, irritated but not purpled yet. Azzi saw a flash of Paige’s soft ab lines, the ones that had seemed to distract her all summer long. Azzi offered her hand out to Paige, the older girl accepting with a slight grimace.

She stood up with ease to Azzi’s relief, and let her shirt fall out of her grasp as she did. “Don’t worry, Az. I’m good.” Paige responded before Azzi could even ask, seeing a look of worry painted across her face.

“Second down!”

-

The girls, finally out of breath and sweating, too tired to keep going in their football game, take to the porch where their dads are calling out frantically that dinner is ready and that they have to “rush over before their burgers burn.”

Jon and Jose sprint over, pushing each other as they do so, trying to get first pick for their dinner. Azzi and Paige take their time, Paige’s arm casually swung over Azzi’s shoulder, giggling in her ear about how badly they beat Azzi’s brothers.

They both grab their paper plates, filling them up with various dishes: corn, mac and cheese, hot dogs - the barbecue basics.

As they take their seats, the girls waste no time before digging into their meals, Azzi messily biting into her ketchup drenched hamburger. As she pulls her food away from her mouth, a swatch of ketchup stays on the corner of her lip, accentuated even more when she looks over to Paige who’s laughing at her.

“What are you laughing for, weirdo?” Azzi teases, slapping Paige on the bicep playfully.

Paige, not seeing a need for explanation, leans in closer to Azzi, her hand finding the crook of Azzi’s neck and her thumb caressing the corner of her plump lips.

Her thumb swipes the ketchup out of the slit, before bringing it to her own mouth and licking it off.

“Ew!” Azzi exclaims. “Paige, that’s disgusting.” She continues to complain. “You are such a child, my God.”

Paige just chuckles, her stomach beginning to hurt from laughing for so long. “Shut it, princess.”

-

Eventually the night slows down, the clear sky starting to form bright stars and the families setting up for bed. People’s t-shirts were replaced with hoodies, for the most part, which all had “Silver Lake” plastered across the chest or the sleeve, another one of their traditions.

“Paige, will you throw me my sleeping bag?” Azzi asks as she throws her curly locs into a bun above her head. She forgot to pack her bonnet, so a simple high bun will have to do.

Azzi watches as Paige pushes through the pile of sleeping bags, looking for the ones she brought for herself and Azzi, however she comes back up with a guilty and embarrassed face.

“I… may have grabbed the big sleeping bag and thought I grabbed two.” Paige scratches her head, holding up the queen sized sleeping bag and pointing to the otherwise bare couch cushions, all the other sleeping bags already claimed.

“Whatever, it’s fine. Jon is totally gonna kill me if I go back inside to get it.” Azzi sighs. “I swear, Bueckers,” Azzi points, but Paige cuts her off before she can continue.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill you. Yeah I know.” Paige rolls her eyes having heard that phrase spoken by Azzi a few times more than one.

Paige and Azzi drag their sleeping bag out to the top of the hill, near the path to the beach, like they’d always done. Paige takes off her t-shirt, crawling into the sleeping bag in just her shorts and sports bra.

She catches Azzi watching her, her eyes not watching her face but her figure and how it moves. “You good over there, Az?” Paige asks, trying to swallow back the smile that is tempting to form on her face.

“Just get in the bag, Bueckers.”

Paige obliges and Azzi follows, doing the same. Azzi lies facing the opposite direction of Paige, their backs grazing but not pressing against each other.

“Good night, Az.”

“Night, P.”

-

It’s silent outside, all animals have gone to bed, even the annoying hummingbirds that always seem to want to bother Azzi while she sleeps. Jon and Jose are fast asleep, as are Paige and Azzi’s parents. The stars still shine and they seem to be the only thing awake at this ungodly hour.

Oh, and Paige along with them.

She stirs in her sleeping bag, not wanting to move too much as to wake Azzi up, but unable to find a comfortable position.

Around two hours have passed, it’s probably a little past one in the morning and Paige has officially given up. Sitting up in her sleeping bag and pushing her pillow behind her, to the back of the tent, she breathes in loudly.

No movement from Azzi.

Paige clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth, trying to be obnoxiously loud.

Still, Azzi sleeps silently.

Paige leans down to Azzi’s shoulder, blowing on the crevice between her neck and jaw, hoping the breath of air will jolt the curly head away.

Still, nothing.

Paige rolls her eyes and gives in, tapping Azzi on the shoulder and watching as her eyes flutter open, turning towards the blonde.

“What the fuck, Paige.” Azzi groans, rubbing her eyes open and sitting up, knowing she’s now gonna be unable to fall back asleep.

“I can’t sleep.” Paige explains, not making eye contact with Azzi and fidgeting with her fingers.

“Tough luck. Go on a walk or something.” Azzi complains, annoyed with Paige for taking away her precious sleep.

“Let’s go to the beach.” Paige blurts, watching as Azzi turns to her with an annoyed look.

“No way, Paige. My mom would kill me. It’s also, not sure if you’ve realized or not… but the middle of the god damn night.”

“C’mon Azzi, it won’t kill you. Let’s have some fun. It’s our last night together for a while.”

Azzi stirs in her position, contemplating if she’s actually going to agree to this or not. She knows she’s not gonna be getting back to sleep anytime soon, but it’s also basically the witching hour and though she won’t admit it to anyone, Azzi never really got over her fear of the dark.

Azzi knows Paige does have a point. She probably won’t see her until at least winter break, minimum, after this and she doesn’t really want them arguing about who gets to go back to sleep to be their parting memory.

“Alright, fine. But we’re coming back quickly and going so quietly that we won’t even wake up a fly.”

Paige nods, already agreeing in the silent part that Azzi wants her to oblige to and starts to stand up. She pushes her sandals over her feet and throws Azzi her flip flops from beside her hoodie.

The two girls tip toe out of bed, sneaking past their families and suddenly very grateful they chose to put their sleeping bags so close to the beach path. They start down the trail, not saying much until they’re excessively far away from the house and their families.

“What are you thinking about?” Azzi ponders aloud, reading through Paige easily. She’s still whispering, though she’s not sure who she’s trying to stay quiet for.

“How do you know I’m thinking about something?” Paige challenges back.

“‘Cause it’s the only time you can’t sleep. Otherwise you’d be keeping me awake with your snoring.”

“I do not snore!”

“Oh, yes you most certainly do.” Azzi giggles, recalling the annoying, yet somehow fond, memories of Paige keeping her awake and forcing her to go sleep in a different room with the soft sound of her snores.

“Whatever. I wasn't thinking about anything. Just couldn't sleep, ‘dunno why.”

“Liar. But I'm not pushing because I’m still barely awake.”

At this point, the girls are walking on the beach, sand curling between their toes as Paige directs them forwards towards the ocean rather than turning so they can walk further in the sand.

“Paige Madison, we are not swimming in this lake right now.” Azzi looks over to Paige, abandoning her whispers and talking, more like scolding, at a normal level.

“C’mon princess, lighten up a little bit. We used to do it all the time.”

“Swim at night?” Paige nods. “Uh huh. Usually while the time has a PM after it, though.” Azzi fights back stubbornly, still not wanting to allow herself to give in.

“Neither of us even have suits on.”

Paige plasters a knowing look on her face and Azzi immediately allows her lips to draw a face of fear. “No way. I’m not going skinny dipping right now. This has not gone well in any horror movie and I don't want a true crime documentary made after us.”

“Alright, well I’m getting in. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Paige pauses as her and Azzi get further and further onto the dock. “But, please don’t make me swim by myself.”

Paige pouts, jutting out her bottom lip and tilting her head slightly at Azzi. Even in the dark, dimly lit sky, Azzi can see the sparkle in her bright blue eyes and can feel herself giving in bit by bit.

Azzi sighs, dropping her shoulders in silent agreement and beginning to strip her clothes. She watches as Paige rids herself of her clothes first. First her basketball shorts, then her sports bra, and finally her boxers. Azzi watches with intent, sucked into the vortex that is Paige Bueckers.

Azzi follows in the undressing task, going slowly while Paige climbs down the ladder and into the water that’s only gotten warmer along with the summer air. Azzi strips herself of her athletic shorts and underwear, then her maroon hoodie, and finally her teal bra.

Paige has to stop herself from letting her jaw drop as she watches Azzi unclasp the bright colored bra. It pairs so well with her dark, tanned skin, and Paige can’t help but find herself glad Azzi can’t see her expression.

Once Paige is off the ladder and Azzi is bare, the brunette starts her own descent down the ladder, climbing down slowly, inadvertently teasing an already flustered Paige.

Azzi suddenly has a realization that she should have had before she agreed to get into the water, or when she undressed, or even before she submerged herself in the deep water.

She can’t stand here. Her feet touch the sandy ocean floor and the water sucks in her mouth and nose along with it, her eyes and forehead barely protruding through the water’s surface.

“I can’t stand, Paige.” Azzi groans as she swims her body back to the ladder, beginning to tread water along the way. “I’m getting out. We’re going back.”

“No way, we just got here. I’m not walking half a mile back after not even being in here for a minute.”

“Alright, well that’s great for you, but I’m not treading water for half an hour, so you can walk back on your own.” Azzi’s already begun to start climbing back up the ladder when Paige blurts it out.

“Just c’mere.”

Azzi turns around while on the ladder, half of her body freezing in the cool air and the other half still covered by the water. “Excuse me?”

“Swim over here. I’ll hold you.”

A look of bewilderment and disbelief is painted on Azzi’s face because… what?

“Are you crazy? I don’t have a bathing suit on, Paige! That’s weird, even for us.” Azzi adds the last part, knowing that even for a decade-long friendship, that’s a bit much.

“How long have we known each other Az? Ten years. It’s nothing I haven't seen before. I promise. Just let me have a good last swim here. Preferably not alone.”

Azzi’s never been able to say no to her. Never in their ten years has she ever learned how to not give in to Paige, how to look away from her warm eyes and decline whatever ridiculous thing she wants from her.

Azzi, sighing once more, climbing back down the ladder and swimming over to Paige, her curly bun fallen down her back, hair tie sunk underneath the water, never to be seen again.

Azzi wraps her arms around Paige’s shoulders, her fingers intertwining at the nape of Paige’s neck, bumping the bottom of her low, messy bun.

Paige brushes the bare skin of Azzi’s thigh, wrapping one leg around her waist, Azzi bringing the other to match by herself.

They both know this is weird. They both know this isn’t something friends do. But neither of them are moving. And neither of them seem to be disgusted with the other.

Paige tries to ignore the fact that she can feel Azzi’s clit against the skin below her navel.

Paige tries to ignore the fact that she can feel Azzi’s nipples, hardened from the cool air, palming her own chest.

Paige tries to keep her eyes locked on Azzi’s, and Azzi tries to do the same, but both girls are failing miserably, their eye contact growing weighted and heavy.

They just stand there for a few minutes, Azzi wrapped around Paige with care and Paige holding her up with ease. They both study the night sky, the stars rendering a beautiful picture above their heads.

It seems impossible, but the girls seemed to have grown closer than before Paige first picked up Azzi. Azzi seems to be more pressed into Paige’s stomach, and Paige’s hands have seemed to travel closer to Azzi’s ass from their former placement on her thighs.

Azzi meets Paige’s eyes, this time firmly locked on hers, and they both just stare. They have the same expression mirrored on either side of each other, salacious and hungry, yet also fearful. Both girls seem to shake a little with each breath before Paige finally speaks.

At a whisper so low that Azzi can barely make out the words, Paige breathes out, “Can I kiss you?”

Azzi just looks deeper into Paige’s eyes, trying to stop herself from letting her eyes flicker down to Paige’s lips. But she can’t.

Like she physically can’t.

So she leans in, pulling Paige’s head closer to her with the hand around her neck, and slots their lips together. Paige tastes faintly of salt and vanilla, probably from the chapstick she’s always applying and Azzi can’t get enough of it.

Azzi kisses her like she’s starved and Paige kisses her back just the same. They breathe into each other, chests pressing further and further into each other as they do so, voracious and needy.

Their senses are heightened from their bare states, no skin of Azzi’s left untouched as Paige’s hands begin to wander around Azzi’s shaky body.

The two girls only pull away occasionally to catch their breaths, like they can’t take a second away from each other’s lips.

Paige is infatuated with the way Azzi tastes: better than she ever could have imagined.

Paige slips her left hand out from under Azzi’s thigh, catching the little drop with her right forearm, which is now laid out under Azzi’s ass.

Paige’s left hand slides up between their chests, palming one of Azzi’s breasts, earning her a quiet whimper from the curly head. Its noise is swallowed by Paige’s mouth, but all that does is urge Paige on more.

Her hand continues to graze across Azzi’s body, pinching her nipples, and Paige grows more and more hungry with each soft moan from Azzi’s mouth. Paige is in utter disbelief with how pretty Azzi sounds and she can’t imagine she’s gone so long without being serenaded by its sound.

Paige’s kisses begin to trail down Azzi’s jaw and quickly find her neck, Azzi mindlessly tilting her head so Paige has more area to work. Paige’s tongue touches every inch of Azzi’s neck, trying to find the places to suck on that make Azzi go mad, and trying to memorize them for later.

Without even realizing she’s doing it, Azzi begins to slightly push herself onto Paige’s stomach, trying to give herself some relief against the ridges of Paige’s abs.

Paige quickly realizes what Azzi is doing and is grateful to see that she seems just as needy as Paige is right now.

At the same time Paige finds a particularly sensitive spot towards Azzi’s collarbone, Azzi catches her clit on just the right part of Paige’s stomach and she lets out a loud moan as Paige sucks the skin and lets it go with a ��pop’.

“Do you need me, Azzi?” Paige whispers against Azzi’s neck.

Azzi nods promptly, forgetting about embarrassing herself and being consumed by the need pulsing inside her.

Azzi feels Paige smirk against her neck as she kisses back up from her neck to her lips and continues to play with her chest.

Paige positions her right arm, the one that’s balancing and holding Azzi up, so that she can reach where Azzi needs her the most.

Paige wastes no time, beginning to draw slow, tantalizing circles over Azzi’s clit, and Azzi begins to melt like putty into Paige’s hands. She can’t silence the pathetic noises that are coming out of her mouth and she can’t help her want for more.

She presses herself further down into the pads of Paige’s fingers, wanting, scratch that, needing more pressure from the blonde.

“Fuck Paige-” Azzi murmurs out, her words coming out jumbled and broken up, Paige removing her ability to form coherent words.

Paige shifts her hand down from Azzi’s clit to the bottom of her lips, her finger splitting them open and taking a dive into the wetness.

Azzi’s slick mixes with the lake water around them and while water surrounds them, Paige knows the slick her fingers are feeling is not that kind of wetness.

“Holy shit-” Paige murmurs, in disbelief with Azzi and herself for how wet she is. “You this soaked or is it the lake?” Paige asks, though she already knows the answer.

“Jesus-” Azzi whimpers out, unable to breathe properly. “It’s for you, P.” Azzi admits, squirming under Paige’s touch, desperate for any kind of contact from the blonde.

“For me, huh?” Paige gloats, never missing a chance to feed her own ego. Paige traces her finger around Azzi’s wetness, gathering it with her fingers and dragging it along her center.

Azzi twitches as Paige drags the slick up to her clit and presses deep on either side of the sensitive bud. “Paige… fuck- just-” Azzi tries, she really tries to get her words out, but she chokes on her own moans and can’t take the throbbing much longer.

“What do you need, princess?” Paige taunts, her movements getting slower and softer, her kisses still peppering down Azzi’s neck.

“You.” Azzi manages, chasing Paige’s fingers as they move slowly, trying to press herself down harshly.

“You already have me.” Paige smiles against Azzi’s skin, knowing that’s not what she meant.

Before Azzi can open her mouth to clarify more or to protest, Paige shoves her fingers inside Azzi’s center, pumping them in and out slowly to start, but gaining more urgency as she goes for longer.

The harsher she presses down, the louder Azzi is for her, and Paige has never been so turned on in her life. Azzi is a jumbled mess. The only words she can get out are broken swears and “please”, though she doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.

“Paige-” Azzi pleads out, grinding down on Paige’s fingers as she strives for the release she’s hungry for. “My god.”

“Say my name again, Az. Say it again for me.” Paige asks, though she’s not really asking, more so demanding.

Azzi obliges and lets out another string of curses as well as a moan that Paige makes out to have her name written underneath the breathy sounds.

“You’re-” Azzi pauses to swallow and tries to breathe. “Fuck, you feel so good, P.” At this point, Azzi’s nearly blacked out. She barely knows what she’s saying, just mumbling out whatever comes to her brain and letting herself be handled by Paige.

“You’re doing so good, Azzi. So good for me.” Paige whispers into Azzi’s ear, the sensual tone making Azzi more needy and starved for Paige’s touch.

A few more minutes pass, and Azzi can’t stay like this forever. Her movements have become completely broken up and she’s a mess. Her hair is flipped over to one side, and Paige is still moving with the same urgency.

Her head is thrown back and Paige is still attacking her neck, leaving marks she’s sure will still be there in the morning.

“I can’t… last much longer, P.” Azzi groans out, her words so broken that Paige can barely understand what she’s trying to say.

“It’s okay, Az. Let go for me. Let me feel you.” Paige slows her words at the last part, trying to make herself sound more sensual and less nervous than she really is.

With that, Azzi taps out, leaning into Paige as she collapses, Paige’s movements not slowing until Azzi’s fully come down.

Even under the water, Paige can feel the shaking of Azzi’s legs, and with Azzi leaning right into her ear, the pretty sounds she’s making are louder than ever.

Paige feels herself growing wetter with every moan from Azzi and every whisper of her name.

“Oh my god… fuck-” Azzi moans out with her climax, too spent to be ashamed of how loud she is at this point.

Paige works her through it, her fingers still pumping, harder than ever, as Azzi continues to shake and press into her shoulder.

Eventually, Paige’s movements slow and she slowly pulls her fingers out of Azzi. Her hands return to their previous position on either side of Azzi’s thighs, a much more stable way to hold her, as she leans in for a kiss to her lips.

This time it’s slower, less rushed. Less hungry and needy. But there’s still a hint of that underneath: Paige now desperate for a relief of her own.

They kiss slowly for a few moments, Azzi catching her breath against Paige’s lips and readjusting to the silence she created with the halt of her whimpers.

After a while of their chaste kisses, they heat back up again, this time Azzi initiating the harshness of it all. She starts to explore Paige’s mouth like it’s a piece of art she’s trying to memorize and store for later, and Paige just lets it happen.

She lets Azzi control what’s happening, hoping if she lets this happen, she’ll get the same release Azzi did.

But Azzi’s not as quick moving as Paige, she likes to take her time getting to know Paige deeper. Her lips tattoo the skin of Paige’s neck and chest and Paige groans, partially out of pleasure, and partially out of frustration with Azzi’s pace.

Not being able to take it anymore, Paige tightly grips Azzi’s hand from behind her neck and slides it down her stomach. Azzi traces Paige’s abs along the way before she gets down to Paige’s wetness, and even then, she goes painfully slow.

She immediately inserts a finger inside Paige, but the one isn’t enough, and she’s going so slow that Paige barely feels anything except a little pressure.

“You’re killing me, Az.” Paige complains, though the whimper at the end of her sentence tells Azzi that annoyance isn’t the only thing in her tone. “You’ve gotta let me feel good.” Paige pleads.

“But I am making you feel good.” Azzi whispers innocently, tilting her head with a bit of a mischievous grin. “Patience, P.”

Patience is something Paige has never had, and now is definitely not the time she’s going to acquire it. She takes a hand out from under Azzi and reaches it down to her own clit, circling it with urgency and finally getting some relief: the kind Azzi’s refusing her of.

Azzi quickly notices and pushes Paige’s hand away, much to Paige’s chagrin. “That bad, really?” Azzi teases. “Fine.”

Azzi shrugs before pounding three of her fingers into Paige, the inside of her wrist palming Paige’s clit as she does so.

Paige is so worked up that she barely lasts two minutes of this, her body surrendering to Azzi quickly.

“Fuck.. Azzi…” Azzi cuts Paige’s babble off with a kiss. She can already tell Paige is about to unravel for her.

Azzi swallows the moans that pour out of Paige’s mouth, smiling as she does so. She finally slows her fingers when Paige seems to stop her shaking and calm down slightly.

Azzi can’t believe Paige managed to hold both of them up while doing that, and she sits back for a moment before realizing that she can’t believe what just happened as a whole.

As Paige finally comes back to Earth, she seems to have the same realization as Azzi. Both of them looking at each other with concerned looks on their faces.

“I- I’m sorry.” Paige is the first to speak. “I wasn’t trying to… do this when I woke you up. I promise.” Azzi can tell the statement is genuine, and she knows Paige too well to think that’s something she would do.

“Don’t apologize.” Azzi breathes out, Paige sighing a sigh of relief at her response.

It’s silent again, Paige still holding them up as they look into each other’s eyes, trying to get a sense of what just happened.

“Did that mean something, P?” Azzi questions, asking what she knew Paige was wondering too.

Paige sucks in a deep breath of the cool air before answering with a look of sincerity. “Yeah. I ’dunno, Azzi. I’ve been tryna’ read you all summer.”

“I love you.” Azzi blurts out and though the girls have been saying that for years, it carries a different weight now. And Paige knows that. She can tell in the way Azzi refuses to meet her gaze after she says it.

Paige pulls Azzi into another slow kiss, this one pure and wholesome in a way their others weren’t. “I lov-” Paige starts but Azzi quickly interrupts.

“I knew. I know.”

A beat of playful silence waves over the two girls. Paige joking rolls her eyes, accompanied with a large smile as she lets go of Azzi and swims closer to the ladder slowly. Azzi peels herself away from Paige's hips and follows behind, both of their legs sore, lips swollen, and necks bruised with kisses.

After Paige and Azzi have dried themselves off as best as they could without towels, Paige circles back. “You knew? And you made me wait all summer for you to say something?”

Azzi grins a little while nodding, chuckling at herself as she does so.

“You are so fucking infuriating.” Paige crosses her arms jokingly.

“Am I? Do you remember the lake about three minutes ago or?”

“Oh, I could say the exact same for you, Azzi.” Paige challenges back.

Paige stumbles over something rough at her feet, a pile of towels someone had left on the beach from the day prior. She leans down to pick two of them up and hands one to the girl beside her.

Ignoring their theft, they wrap their bodies in the stolen towels and Paige reaches down to grab Azzi’s hand.

They walk back to their families and sleeping bags with wide grins and fingers intertwined, the moon smiling down at them as they walk.

Long time coming.

[hereforuconnwbb]

The Study of Us - CHAPTER 11

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

word count: 7.7k

warning: language, injury

hey guysss heres chap 11 !! sorry for a bit of a delay as ive been sick with a fever 😭 ntm to say other than it's not edited. lmk what u guys think !! hope u guys enjoy 😽🫶🏽

‼️‼️this wasn’t edited

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Paige slumped into her seat by the window, the duffel dropping to the floor by her feet. Caroline scooted in beside her, stretching her long legs out, while Aubrey claimed the other corner of the last row, pulling up her hood and immediately nestling against the window like she was prepping for hibernation.

Paige pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and quickly opened her messages.

Paige: js sat down

Paige: alrdy missing u a lil too much 😅

A beat later, the typing bubble appeared. Paige blikned down at it, her stomach fluttering.

Azzi: im still standing outside like an idiot

Azzi:  miss you alrdy too 

Azzi: stay safe ‘lover girl’

Paige’s face flushed, and she turned slightly toward the window to hide it.

Caroline leaned in and nudged her with her elbow. “So… what exactly did I walk in on back there when I yelled your name ?”

Paige didn’t answer at first, just grinned quietly and kept looking at her phone.

Aubrey snorted from her side. “Please. You saw her. She was two seconds away from proposing to Azzi in the bushes.”

Paige groaned, letting her head fall back against the seat dramatically. “Bruhhhh can you not ?”

Caroline smirked. “We’re just saying, that looked like a goodbye scene straight out of a movie.”

“She kissed your cheek,” Aubrey added.

“And you looked like you forgot how to breathe after,” Caroline chimed in.

Paige threw a hand over her face. “Oh my god. I hate both of you.”

Caroline grinned. “Anywayss, I have a question.”

“No,” Paige said automatically.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say !”

“I know.”

Caroline ignored her. “When are you going to actually ask her out ?”

Aubrey perked up. “Yea, I’ve been wondering that too. Especially after what happened today…”

Paige groaned louder. “Don’t bring it up.”

“What ?” Aubrey feigned innocence. “The part where prof casually called Azzi your girlfriend ? That part ?”

Caroline laughed. “I swear he didn’t even blink. He just said it like it was common knowledge.”

“Because it kind of is,” Aubrey added.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Paige muttered, covering her face again.

They all laughed and Paige let the moment settle. The truth was, she didn’t mind the teasing. Because under it all, there was something warm and real growing in her chest, something that didn’t feel one-sided anymore.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Paige mumbled, half-heartedly.

“Yet,” Caroline and Aubrey said in unison.

Paige glared at both of them. “Can I breathe for like five mins ?”

“You can breathe after you grow a spine and ask her out,” Caroline said.

“I’m working on it,” Paige said, quieter now, eyes back on her phone.

A new message buzzed through.

Azzi: u better kill it this weekend. 

Azzi: but also come back asap 🫠 

Azzi: sitting on the couch is gonna feel weirdly quiet without u

Paige smiled to herself, thumbs hovering over the screen before she typed:

Paige: weirdly quiet huh ? 

Paige: sounds like someone is getting used to having me around 🥹

The typing bubble popped up almost instantly.

Azzi: maybe i am. 

Azzi: dont make me admit it twice 🙄

Paige’s heart stuttered. She read the message twice, then 3 times, before tucking her phone into her pocket and exhaling a long, slow breath.

“What ?” Caroline asked, noticing the look on her face.

“Nothing,” Paige said, lips curling despite herself. “Just… maybe I’ll ask her when I get back.”

Aubrey let out a slow, exaggerated clap. “Growth.”

Caroline threw an arm around her shoulder. “Finally. Took like five years.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but her smile never left.

She didn’t feel nervous anymore. She felt ready. Well, mostly.

She let out a quiet sigh, tilting her head back against the window again. “Ok, but like… real talk ? I lowkey wanna kiss her so bad sometimes, it’s patheticn.”

Caroline snorted. “Lowkey ?”

“I’m serious,” Paige groaned. “Every time we’re close I just… I pussy out. Like full body shutdown. Brain empty, confidence gone, nothing left but static.”

Aubrey cracked a grin. “Just say you wanna fuck her too while your at it.”

Paige sat up straight, face blazing. “No ! I mean—what ?! No !”

Aubrey held up her hands, laughing. “Relax, it's a joke.”

Caroline was wheezing. “God, your face. That was amazing.”

“Yea, it’s because I don’t wanna—” Paige stopped herself, fumbled for words, then covered her face again. “Bruh, I’m just gonna not say anything about that.”

The laughter softened a bit. Caroline shot her a sideways look, gentler this time. “Anyways, stop overthinking it. If you feel it and you think she does too, just don’t wait forever.”

Aubrey stretched out, grinning. “Yea. Worst case scenario, she beats you to it and you end up the nervous mess.”

Paige groaned. “Perfect. Encouraging and embarrassing.”

But underneath the teasing, something settled in her chest. Maybe this time, she really was ready to stop holding back.

—------------------------------------------

The team dinner that night after they landed in Knoxville had finally wrapped up, the noise of laughter and clinking plates fading as Paige slipped back into the quiet of her dorm room. KK and Ice were sprawled on the couch, scrolling through their phones, while Paige tossed her jacket on the bed and pulled out her phone.

She thumbed open her messages, her fingers hovering for a moment before typing.

Paige: heyyy dinner was pre wild with the way kk was trying to steal the last pizza slice off ice

A few seconds later, the typing bubble appeared.

Azzi: 😭 sounds like a disaster

Azzi: hope ice survived the invasion

Paige smiled, then glanced at KK and Ice.

“Hey, you guys gonna keep sitting there or go to annoy the others ?” she asked.

KK stretched and smirked. “Damn right. We’re gonna go stir up trouble with the others. They’re probably bored without us.”

Ice grinned. “Catch us later, peace out.”

They got up, grabbing jackets and tossing a “Later, P boogers !” over their shoulders as they headed out.

Paige settled back on her bed, fingers itching to type again. She paused, then went for it.

Paige: wann ft ? 

Paige: i kinda wanna see ur pretty face before i knock out

Her heart skipped when the typing bubble popped up almost immediately.

Azzi: nawww sure 🤭

Azzi: lemme js find my charger 

Paige grinned, already imagining that smile lighting up her screen.

The Facetime screen connected with a quiet ding, and Paige propped her phone up against her pillow, settling back as Azzi appeared.

Azzi was curled up on her bed, wearing a loose tank top and soft grey pj pants, her hair tossed up into a messy bun that somehow looked effortlessly perfect. A pair of glasses perched on her nose as she adjusted her charger.

Paige blinked. Her brain stalled for a second.

“Hey P,” Azzi said, voice warm and casual as she sat back and pulled her blanket over her lap.

Paige smiled a beat late. “Hey.”

“You good ?” Azzi asked, 1 eyebrow raising behind her glasses.

Paige cleared her throat, shifting slightly against the headboard. “Yeayea, just… tired. Long day.”

Azzi gave her a look that said uh huh, sure, but didn’t press.

Paige reached for her water bottle, more for something to do than out of thirst. Her fingers fidgeted with the cap. She couldn’t stop looking at Azzi. Something about the way her collarbone peeked out from the tank top, the lazy slouch of her posture, her bare legs tucked under her—it was casual, normal, completely innocent.

But Paige’s thoughts were anything but.

She tapped the edge of the bottle nervously. “You look pre comfortable.”

Azzi glanced down at herself, then back up with a small grin. “It’s pajama hour. You know how it is.”

“Right,” Paige mumbled. Her eyes dipped for a second too long before she looked away quickly, pressing the cold water bottle to her cheek like it might ground her.

Azzi tilted her head. “What time’s final practice tomorrow ?”

“Uh—” Paige blinked. “Eight I think—Oh wait, nine. Then a quick film right after.”

Azzi nodded, shifting her weight and adjusting the blanket again. “And the game’s Sunday, right ?”

“Yea. Early.” Paige tapped her knee restlessly. “We’ll head straight to the airport after. Should be back on campus around like… nine or ten-ish ?”

Azzi’s expression softened. “So I get you back Sunday night ?”

That made Paige smile, even as her stomach flipped. “Yep. Lucky you.”

Azzi smirked. “Lucky me.”

There was a small pause. Paige chewed her lip, trying not to stare too hard at the soft lines of Azzi’s neck or the way her glasses kept slipping down her nose only for her to push them back up with one finger.

It was stupid how hot she looked while doing absolutely nothing. Just existing.

“Hey,” Azzi said suddenly, her tone light but curious. “You sure you’re ok ?”

Paige blinked again. “What ?”

“You’re just… fidgety. More than usual. Did you drink like four gatorades at dinner or something ?”

Paige let out a sharp laugh, then immediately regretted it. “No, I—I’m just tired. Brain fried. Also KK dared me to eat a pepperoni slice with ranch and chocolate syrup on it, so I might still be recovering.”

Azzi winced. “That’s foul.”

“Yea, she’s a menace.” Paige shifted again, tugging her hoodie sleeve over her hand. “Anyway, I’m just kinda out of it.”

Azzi hummed, still watching her. “Well, I’m glad you called.”

“Yea ?” Paige asked, quieter now.

Azzi nodded. “It’s nice. Seeing your face. I feel like I haven’t really seen you in days.”

Paige’s throat tightened. “Same.”

The silence between them wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt like the kind that only happened when 2 people were a little too aware of each other.

Azzi glanced down at something in her lap and then looked up again, blinking slowly. “You should sleep soon tho. Big weekend ahead.”

Paige exhaled. “I know.”

“You’re gonna kill it,” Azzi said firmly. “Like, I have zero doubts. I wish I could’ve come.”

Paige smiled faintly. “Me too.”

There was another pause, softer this time. Azzi yawned quietly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. The movement made her tank top slip slightly off 1 shoulder. Paige’s eyes darted away instantly.

Focus. You’re just friends. You’re not allowed to think about kissing her. Or holding her. Or—

Azzi’s voice broke through her thoughts again. “Alright, lover girl. You should get some sleep.”

Paige froze, then narrowed her eyes. “You did not just call me that again.”

Azzi grinned. “I absolutely did.”

“Disrespectful.”

“Affectionate.”

Paige couldn’t stop smiling even as she groaned and dragged a pillow over her face. “Ok, goodnight before I combust.”

Azzi laughed. “Night, Paige.”

“Wait—”

Azzi raised her brows. “Yea ?”

Paige peeked out from the pillow, cheeks pink. “Thanks for answering. I… kinda needed that.”

Azzi’s expression softened again. “You don’t have to thank me. I always want to see you.”

Paige swallowed.

“Goodnight for real,” Azzi said, almost in a whisper now.

“Night,” Paige echoed.

The screen went dark, but Azzi’s image lingered behind Paige’s eyes like a brand.

That tank top. Those glasses. The way her voice dipped when she said goodnight.

Paige groaned softly and flopped fully onto her back, draping her arm across her eyes like it might shut her brain off. It didn’t help. If anything, it made things worse.

Her mind wandered back to how Azzi looked on that screen. The low lighting. That lazy grin. The way her tank top slipped off her shoulder like gravity itself was teasing Paige. And the glasses ? Unfair.

She shouldn’t be thinking about how warm Azzi’s skin probably was under that blanket. Or how soft her lips looked. Or what it might feel like to have Azzi curled up next to her in real life instead of on a screen.

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, dragging her hands down her face.

Get it together, P

She turned over, yanking her blanket up, as if hiding under it might smother the thoughts threatening to spiral. Her stomach was tight with heat and longing, a low buzz under her skin that made her feel restless and kind of insane.

She flipped again. Huffed into her pillow. Tried counting down from 10.

She made it to 7.

And then—

The hotel room door swung open with a loud click, and KK’s voice burst into the quiet.

“P BOOGERSSSS ! You still alive in here ?”

Paige practically jolted off the bed, heart slamming as she shoved her phone under her pillow and sat up like she hadn’t just been having thoughts she shouldn’t be having.

Ice followed behind, holding a half-finished smoothie and kicking off her crocs. “Damn, she really was gonna fall asleep without us.”

KK flopped onto the other bed dramatically. “You facetiming someone ?” she asked, eyeing Paige’s slightly rumplef blanket and pink-tinted cheeks with too much interest.

“No,” Paige said too quickly. “Just… laying down.”

Ice smirked but didn’t say anything, already scrolling through her phone as she pulled her hoodie off.

KK raised an eyebrow. “Right. Totally laying down and not thinking about someone.”

Paige threw a pillow at her. “Shut up.”

KK laughed, muffled behind the pillow now clutched to her chest. “I’m just saying.”

Paige shook her head, trying to keep her face neutral even as her heart still raced from both the Azzi thoughts and the sudden intrusion.

The girls settled down eventually—Ice plugging in her charger, KK kicking her legs under the covers and the lights went out with a soft click.

Paige turned toward the wall, blanket pulled high, letting the cool fabric soothe her skin.

Her pulse slowed, her body finally settling, the storm in her head dulling to a quiet ache.

Azzi’s voice still echoed in the back of her mind, soft and close.

I always want to see you.

Paige exhaled, eyes fluttering shut.

She let herself fall into sleep with that sentence cradled against her chest like a secret.

—------------------------------------------

The next morning, Paige’s phone buzzed quietly beside her bed. She blinked awake and smiled when she saw Azzi’s name glowing on the screen.

Azzi: morning p💗

Azzi: did u end up sleeping straight away ?

Paige smirked, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Paige: morning az💗

Paige: js stayed up for a few more mins thinking abt some stuff 🙃

Azzi: mhmmm sameeeee 😭

They kept texting between breakfast, break, and before Paige’s practice, lil messages popped up such as a quick joke, a reminder to drink water, and a few goofy selfies.

Later, after practice, Paige found herself scrolling through Azzi’s messages during downtime, the corners of her mouth tugging up at every text.

Finally, unable to resist, she typed out:

Paige: i miss u azziiiiiiiiiii poo poo

The reply came almost instantly:

Azzi: i miss u too paigeeeeeeeeyyy pee pee

Paige’s chest warmed with a quiet joy. She wasn’t sure how this whole thing had happened but she didn’t want to question it. Instead, she let herself enjoy it.

That afternoon, while wandering around Knoxville with a few of the girls, Paige’s eyes caught something colourful behind a shop window. A gigantic stuffed unicorn, its pastel pink mane, Azzi's favourite colour, shimmering faintly under the sun, stared back at her with oversized, glittering eyes.

Without thinking, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, then sent it to Azzi with a message:

Paige: this giant majestical beast of a unicorn reminds me of u 

Paige: too magical for words

Her phone buzzed quickly:

Azzi: NAWWWWW THATS ADORABLE🥹

Azzi: + ure impossible🫠

Paige smiled, then slipped inside the shop while the others continued chatting outside. She paid for the unicorn quietly, tucking the receipt in her pocket. It would be a surprise for Azzi—something sweet and silly she could bring when she returned back to Storrs.

—------------------------------------------

By the time dinner was over and the team had trickled back to their rooms, Paige had changed into her favorite green pj pants and a black nike sports bra as the room was a little humid, and she couldn’t be bothered with a shirt. Her hair was still damp from the shower as she crawled into bed, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the warm air.

KK was in the corner chair with airpods in, humming along to some song, and Ice was already passed out, hood up and blanket over her head.

Paige reached for her phone. 

Paige: u up ?

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

Azzi: always

Azzi: everything alr ?

Paige grinned, thumb hovering for a second before she typed again.

Paige: i js wanna talk to u

Paige: if ur not too tired obviously

There was a pause this time, longer than usual, and then—

Azzi: ofc js gimme 2 mins

Azzi: ft ?

Paige’s stomach did that stupid thing again.

She typed back:

Paige: yes pls

Paige glanced over at KK

“KK,” Paige said, low but firm.

KK looked up, pulling an airpod out.

“I’m about to be on a call,” Paige said, stretching her legs out and crossing one ankle over the other. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

KK grinned immediately. “Define stupid.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “KK.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Don’t start,” Paige warned, holding up a finger just as her phone rang with the incoming facetime. Her stomach flipped as she tapped her screen to answer.

Azzi’s face filled the screen, her curls were tied up messily, skin glowing, sweatshirt slightly slipping off 1 shoulder.

“Hey,” she said, voice a little raspy, eyes immediately locking on Paige.

Azzi had fully intended to say more. Something casual. Chill. Maybe a sarcastic comment. But her brain short-circuited the second she took in the sight before her.

Paige, leaning back against her pillows in those familiar green pj pants, the waistband riding low on her hips. Sports bra hugging her just right. Skin still a bit wey from her shower. Collarbone and shoulder blades defined, arms resting behind her head like she didn’t even know what she looked like right now.

Azzi blinked. “Um.”

“You good ?” Paige asked, eyes twinkling, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. She knew.

“Yea,” Azzi cleared her throat, shifting slightly on her bed. “Just—long day and that.”

“Mhmmmmmm,” Paige said, smug as hell.

Azzi was about to retaliate with some smartass comeback when KK launched herself across the room and popped into frame behind Paige grinning.

“HEY GIRLYYYY.” KK yelled, nearly knocking Paige’s phone out of her hands. “Wus good ?”

Azzi laughed, recovering fast. “What are you doing ?”

“I just had to come say hey,” KK said, like it was her duty. Then, without even pausing for air, she turned to Azzi with a wicked glint in her eye. “Yo, did Paigey here tell you what she said earlier ? To me and Ice ?”

Paige froze. “KK, shut the fuck up—”

“She was staring at one of your ig posts like she was in heat,” KK continued gleefully, ignoring Paige completely. “She said—‘How is she real, like be fucking serious. She’s actually so fine it pisses me off.’”

“Kamorea.”

Azzi blinked fast. “Wait, what ?”

“Oh, and then Ice was like, ‘She’s so obsessed she’d legally change her last name without even dating her,’ and Paige just groaned and rolled off the bed like she couldn’t take it.”

“You’re actually gonna die,” Paige muttered, reaching for her pillow.

“Oh nonono,” KK said, backing up but laughing hysterically. “The world deserves to know the truth. You’re so gone for her—OH SHIT !”

Paige had flung her pillow with precise aim, hitting KK square in the face. But KK just doubled over, cackling.

Across the room, a muffled groan came from under the blanket.

“You idiots are too fucking loud,” Ice said, voice groggy.

KK whipped around. “Ice ! Back me up ! Tell Azzi what Paige said earlier.”

Ice pushed her hood back with a dramatic sigh, rubbing her eyes. “Paige said Azzi looked so good it made her want to walk into traffic.”

“What the fuck,” Paige said, propping her phone onto the bedside table as she lunged at KK.

Azzi burst out laughing, nearly dropping her own phone as the chaos on Paige’s end escalated instantly. Paige tackled KK to the floor, both of them shouting and wrestling, tangled in limbs and blankets and limbs.

“Take it back !” Paige yelled, straddling KK and trying to pin her down.

“NEVER,” KK wheezed, laughing uncontrollably. “THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE—PAIGE, STOP—I’M TICKLISH !”

Paige took full advantage, fingers jabbing at KK’s sides mercilessly. “Say you’re lying.”

“I CAN’T—YOU DID SAY IT—FUCKEN STOP—ICE HELP ME !”

And because Ice was Ice, she stood up, stretched like she had all the time in the world, and said, “Yea, ok,” before walking over and joining the pile. She plopped down on KK’s legs and poked at her ribs while Paige continued her tickle attack.

The 3 of them were a mess on the floor—yelling, laughing, tangled up like idiots.

Meanwhile, Azzi had flopped onto her back from laughing so hard, the phone now propped up against her pillow as she watched the absolute trainwreck unfold on the screen.

But in between fits of laughter, her eyes kept drifting. Kept finding Paige.

The way the hotel light hit warm and low, casting soft shadows on her. Her back arched slightly as she wrestled KK, the definition in her arms and abs on full, distracting display. Her cheeks flushed from laughing, from moving. 

And Azzi. 

She was not ok.

She was laughing, sure, but also not at all paying attention to anything KK or Ice were yelling now. Her face was warm, throat tight, and she had to actually look away from the screen for a second to collect herself.

When she looked back, Paige had finally pinned KK down and was breathless from laughing, hair a mess and a wide grin on her face.

Azzi swallowed.

“You guys are so dumb,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray how flustered she actually was.

Paige leaned back onto her heels, pushing hair out of her face, and grinned at her. “And yet you still called.”

Azzi shook her head, cheeks aching from smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re hot,” Paige said without missing a beat.

Then, almost immediately, her confidence cracked just a little. “Wait—shit, I didn’t mea—”

KK screamed. “SHE ADMITTED IT—”

“SHUT. UP.” Paige grabbed the pillow again.

Azzi just laughed harder, covering her face with her hand as KK yelped and Ice casually sidestepped the next flying pillow.

—------------------------------------------

After a while, Paige finally sat back on the bed, still catching her breath, hair wild and cheeks flushed from the fight. KK and Ice were still grinning like idiots, exchanging glances.

Azzi wiped a tear of laughter from her eye and shook her head. “You guys are terrible.”

KK grinned. “Hey, we’re just the entertainment. Don’t blame us.”

Ice nodded solemnly. “Yurrr, somebody’s gotta keep the mood light before you two decide to get all sappy n thsat.”

Paige shot them a mock glare but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She glanced back at the screen, catching Azzi’s eyes again.

“So,” Paige said, trying to sound casual but failing, “whatchu wanna talk about ?”

Azzi smiled, cheeks pink. “I dunno. Just… stuff. How your day went. How you’re gonna annihilate that game tomorrow.”

Paige rolled her eyes but felt her chest swell a little. “Stop buttering me up. I’m already feeling the pressure.”

“Good,” Azzi teased. “Means you care.”

They talked quietly for a while, sharing dumb stories from the day, swapping low-key jokes, and just… existing in the comfortable silence between words.

KK’s voice cut through softly from behind Paige. “Hey, Azzi, you hearing this? Paige is basically melting over you.”

Ice snorted. “Dude, they’re basically a puddle over there.”

Azzi laughed. “You two are awful.”

Paige laughed too, then looked back at Azzi, her smile a little softer now.

“You should sleep,” Azzi said gently. “Big day tomorrow. Gotta show out.”

Paige smirked. “I will. Eventually.”

Azzi gave her a look. “No scheming. Just sleep, ok ?”

“Bossy,” Paige teased, but her voice was warm.

Azzi grinned. “Only cause I care.”

Paige’s heart did a tiny flip. “Ight. I’ll go to sleep. Promise.”

“Good,” Azzi said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Night P. You’re gonna kill it tomorrow.”

“Night Az,” Paige said, voice quieter now. “Thanks.”

Azzi ended the call leaving Paige smiling at the quiet glow of it, the room finally still.

KK poked Paige’s side, smirking. “You’re blushing.”

“Piss off, KK,” Paige muttered, but the smile didn’t leave her face.

Ice stretched and yawned dramatically. “Alrightyyyy, I’m out.”

KK threw an arm around Paige’s shoulders. “Same. Let’s get our beauty sleep, girly pops.”

Paige rolled onto her side, sighing. “Yea. Goodnight you assholes.”

“Night Paigeyyy,” KK and Ice chorused, already pulling their blankets up as they all driftrd off to sleep.

—------------------------------------------

The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that came in the early morning. The ac hummed softly, and Ice’s light snoring filled the space like background noise.

Paige blinked awake slowly, groggy and warm under the covers. For a second, she just laid there, listening to the stillness.

Then she reached for her phone, screen lighting up instantly with a few unread notifications. 1 at the top stood out.

Azzi: morning superstar 💗

Azzi: go be great tdy 

Paige stared at it for a second, then buried her face in her pillow with a muffled groan and a grin so big it hurt.

She rolled over, thumbs flying.

Paige: morning az 💗

Paige: u rlly tryna make me soft before a game huh

Paige: it’s working btw

Azzi’s typing bubble popped up almost immediately.

Azzi: naww 😭 

Azzi: wellllll u better cook smth up 

Paige laughed quietly, the nerves from earlier already starting to ease into something steadier. She stretched once, then tossed the blanket off and sat up, already feeling more awake.

Behind her, KK cracked 1 eye open. “Lemme guess. The bae texted you.”

“Shut up,” Paige mumbled, but she didn’t deny it.

Ice rolled over. “Better get moving, game day. Time to be that dawg.”

Paige grinned, already heading for her bag. “Damn right.”

—------------------------------------------

The team had just finished warming up and was now huddled in the locker room, 5 mins before tip-off.

Paige slid her phone quietly out of her bag, careful to keep it hidden from coach and her teammates. Her thumb flicked open the screen.

A new message from Azzi lit up the screen:

Azzi: goodluck p 💗

Azzi:  rdy to watch u cook :)

Attached was a photo of her ipad propped up against her pillow, the commentators of the game and clear—Tennessee Lady Vols vs. Uconn.

Paige smiled, heart kicking up a notch. She typed back fast:

Paige: thank u az 💗

Paige: i will try my best 🙂‍↕️

Paige tucked the phone away, took a deep breath, and looked around at her teammates. Time to bring everything she had.

—------------------------------------------

The buzzer sounded sharp and final as the starting 5 stepped onto the court. The energy inside Thompson-Boling Arena was intense—orange everywhere, the Tennessee crowd loud and relentless. But Paige didn’t flinch. She bounced on her toes, laser-focused, eyes scanning the court.

The ball went up, Jana slapped it back cleanly, and Uconn took the first possesssiob.

Paige caught the ball from Kaitlyn and immediately pushed. Tennessee set up quick, but Paige hesitated only for a second before attacking the right side. 1 hard dribble, crossover left which made the defender bite and Paige glided past her into the lane.

Eurostep. Bucket.

First 2 points on the board.

The next few minutes were a blur of high-level basketball. Tennessee punched back hard. Their guards were quick, aggressive. Their bigs boxed out relentlessly. But Uconn held their ground, moving like a unit.

Ashlynn hit a smooth corner 3 off a drive-and-kick from Kaitlyn.

Sarah snagged a tough offensive board and put it back with authority.

Jana swatted a post-up layup into the stands.

And Paige ? Paige was locked in.

She drove baseline and finished with a reverse.

She pulled up off a screen and drained a smooth midrange.

She stripped a pass clean and went coast to coast, finishing through contact for the and-1.

By the end of the first quarter, it was tied 19–19.

In the second, Tennessee started to press. Their guard picked Paige up full court, trying to wear her down. But Paige didn’t panic. She used her handle like a weapon—tight and quick.

Behind-the-back, change of pace, then a no-look pass to Ice who subbed in for the finish.

In their next possession, Paige hit Kaitlyn on a cut with a bounce pass so sharp it split 2 defenders.

The crowd was loud, but Paige was louder with her game. She scored again on a step-back 3 with a defender draped on her. Net barely moved.

Still, Tennessee wouldn’t go away.

They ran the floor. Hit back-to-back 3s. Got physical inside. At halftime, it was neck-and-neck: 37–36, Uconn up by 1.

In the locker room, everyone was dripping sweat and adrenaline, gulping water and breathing heavy. Paige sat, towel draped over her shoulders, staring down at her shoes for a second before glancing at the screen of her phone. No new message from Azzi this time, but just knowing she was probably busy watching ?

That was enough.

She stood, tossed the towel aside, and looked around. “We got this,” she said simply. Her voice didn’t have to rise. They all felt it.

In the third, Paige came out firing.

She hit a 3 on the first possession, then found Caroline who was now on, trailing for another 3. Uconn built a small lead, but Tennessee clawed right back, feeding their post and pushing transition. The crowd roared with every bucket.

Still, Paige didn’t blink.

The fourth quarter started 59–59.

Every possession mattered now. Every cut. Every switch. Every box out.

—------------------------------------------

Azzi sat cross-legged on her bed, blanket wrapped loosely around her waist, ipad balanced on a pillow in front of her. The stream was clear, commentators in full swing, and the arena noise roaring through her airpods like she was courtside. Her heart pounded with every play. Paige was everywhere, lighting it up, finding teammates, talking on defense. She looked locked in.

Azzi couldn’t stop smiling.

She watched as Paige threaded another pass through traffic, then hit a pull-up jumper like it was nothing. “Let’s go,” Azzi whispered to herself, biting her lip as she stared at the screen.

When the third quarter ended, she stretched her arms overhead, exhaling. “You’re killing it, P,” she muttered like Paige could hear her.

But then midway through the fourth—everything shifted.

Paige caught an outlet pass and took off in transition. She cut right, planted hard and crumpled.

The stream cut to a different camera for a beat, but Azzi had seen it. Paige grabbing her ankle. Wincing. Staying down.

Azzi’s heart dropped.

“Nonono—” she whispered, sitting upright now, her hand flying to her mouth. The broadcast cut back to Paige being helped up by trainers, limping slightly, jaw clenched. She wasn’t putting full weight on it. Azzi could see the pain and the frustration on her face.

Paige didn’t return to the game.

Azzi didn’t even register the rest of the fourth. Tennessee went on a run. Uconn looked shaken. 

Final score: 74–68. Tennessee win.

The buzzer sounded, but Azzi’s attention was on her phone now, thumbs flying.

Azzi: what happened ???

Azzi: r u alr  ???

Azzi: paige PLEASEEEEEEE text me when u can

Azzi: im so sorry abt the game as well

Azzi: but fk that cs i needa know if ur ok ??

No response.

Azzi sat there frozen, refreshing the messages, staring at the read receipt that never came. She paced her room, then tried calling. Straight to voicemail.

Half an hour passed. An hour.

Then just as she sat down again, her phone lit up. Incoming call: Paige.

Azzi snatched it up. “Paige ?!”

There was a pause, then Paige’s voice came through which was soft and a lil scratchy.

“Hey.”

“Are you ok ? I was freaking out—what happened ?”

Paige sighed on the other end. “It’s just a rolled ankle. Not bad. Swollen, yea, but the trainer thinks it’s minor. I just… couldn’t go back in.”

Azzi exhaled, heart still in her throat. “I was so worried. You didn’t text. I thought—God, I thought it was worse.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” A pause. “I just… needed a min.”

Azzi could hear the weight in her voice—the frustration, the sting. “No need to apologise P. I get it. You played your heart out. That loss wasn’t on you.”

“I still feel like shit,” Paige admitted. “I hate being on the bench. I hate watching us lose. And now this ankle’s gonna be a thing for who knows how long…”

Azzi was quiet for a second, then said gently, “Where are you now ?”

“Back of the bus. Heading to the airport.”

“You by yourself ?”

“Yea. Wanted space.”

There was a pause on the other end—then, Paige’s voice, barely above a whisper:

“Can I come straight to yours when I get back ?”

Azzi didn’t even let her finish the sentence.

“Of course,” she said. “Always.”

There was another silence, but this one felt different. Calmer.

“I’ll see you soon,” Paige said.

Azzi nodded, even though Paige couldn’t see it. “I’ll be up.”

—------------------------------------------

The bus rolled quietly into Storrs later that night, headlights cutting through the dark as the team filed off 1 by 1, tired and low after the tough loss. Paige stayed close to the back, wincing slightly as she shifted weight off her injured ankle.

Aubrey and Caroline caught up to her as she gathered her things, their expressions softening when they saw the way Paige moved carefully.

“Hey, we got you,” Aubrey said, stepping forward with a warm smile. “Let us carry your stuff.”

Caroline nodded, already reaching for Paige’s duffle bag. “And what’s that for ?” she asked, gently lifting the oversized, sparkly unicorn plush peeking out from the top.

Paige hesitated, then gave a small, tired smile. “It’s a gift for Azzi.”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Caroline. “Azzi ? Oh, ok. That’s sweet.”

Paige shrugged, “Yea. I’m actually heading to her dorm, if that’s cool.”

“Totally,” Caroline said, slipping the duffle onto her shoulder. “We’ll help you get there before we head to ours.”

The 3 of them stepped out into the cool night air, the campus mostly quiet except for the gentle souns of the breeze through the trees. Paige leaned a little on Caroline as they walked toward the dorms, her ankle throbbing but manageable.

When they reached Azzi’s building, Aubrey smiled again. “Alright, P, we’ll drop this off with you. You sure you’re good ?”

Paige nodded, cheeks flushed from the day and the long ride. “Yea. Thanks for helping.”

Caroline and Aubrey gave her supportive grins before heading off to their own dorms, leaving Paige standing at Azzi’s door with her duffle and the giant unicorn tucked under her arm.

Paige shifted the weight of the unicorn in her arms and pulled out her phone, fingers moving quickly.

Paige: im outside your door :)

A second later, the door opened.

Azzi stood there in a hoodie and shorts, eyes immediately locking onto Paige and then the massive, glittery unicorn she was holding out like some kind of ridiculous offering.

“What— ?” Azzi blinked, then laughed in disbelief. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Paige said, her voice low and a little sheepish, lips twitching into a tired smile. 

Azzi reached out and took the unicorn like it was made of glass, hugging it close to her chest. “This is… insane. And perfect. Thank you. Seriously.”

She glanced down at Paige’s ankle, the compression wrap still snug with some ice, and then quickly stepped aside. “Come in.”

Paige stepped past her, limping slightly, and Azzi followed, grabbing the duffle bag from her shoulder without a word.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Azzi turned and wrapped her arms around Paige.

Azzi’s chin tucked over Paige’s shoulder, Paige burying her face into Azzi’s neck. They didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stood there, breathing in each other’s presence.

“I missed you,” Azzi whispered.

Paige’s fingers curled into the back of Azzi’s hoodie. “Missed you too.”

They pulled back only slightly, still close.

“I was so worried,” Azzi said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Paige’s face. “When you went down… I couldn’t think straight.”

“I’m ok,” Paige murmured. “Just needed to see you.”

Azzi nodded, eyes shining, then motioned gently toward the bed. “Come on. Get off that ankle.”

Paige made her way over slowly, lowering herself down onto Azzi’s bed and leaning back against the headboard, legs stretched out, ankle elevated on a small pillow. Azzi adjusted it carefully, eyes focused.

“Imma grab a new ice pack,” she said, already heading for the mini freezer.

“Thanks,” Paige said, her voice quieter now, the exhaustion catching up with her as she finally let herself relax in the place she’d wanted to be all day.

Azzi came back a moment later, a fresh ice pack wrapped in a towel. She knelt at the foot of the bed, gently replacing the old one on Paige’s ankle.

Azzi stayed there a moment longer, her hand lingering on the new ice pack, like letting go too soon might make Paige wince again. Then quietly, she stood and climbed up onto the bed, easing in beside Paige with a quiet sigh.

She leaned back against the headboard just like Paige, their shoulders brushing, the soft rustle of blankets settling around them. Without a word, Paige lifted her arm, and Azzi tucked into her side like she belonged there, resting her head gently against Paige’s shoulder.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The room was dim and quiet, lit only by Azzi’s desk lamp, casting a soft glow over the unicorn now perched on her chair.

Paige was the first to break the silence, voice low. “We should’ve won that game.”

Azzi nodded lightly against her. “You were unreal, though. The way you moved and hit those jumpers, ran the offense… it was all you. Everyone saw it.”

Paige gave a quiet breath, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “Doesn’t mean much if we lose.”

“It does to me,” Azzi murmured, lifting her head just enough to look up at her. “You were locked in tonight. It was—God, it was so good to watch.”

Paige’s jaw tensed. “I felt it too. Like, I could feel the rhythm of the game. And then…” She trailed off, glancing down at the bandaged ankle. “I planted wrong. One second I’m flying, next second I’m on the floor.”

Azzi was quiet for a beat, then said softly, “When you didn’t get up, my stomach dropped. I thought—I don’t know. I was just really scared.”

Paige looked over, eyes catching on the concern still etched into Azzi’s face.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I know,” Azzi whispered. “But it’s you. You’re not supposed to be the one getting hurt. You’re the one who gets back up.”

Paige turned her face away, voice cracking just slightly. “I hate that I couldn’t finish.”

“You gave everything you had,” Azzi said, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers, thumb tracing gently along Paige’s knuckles. “No one who watched that game would say you didn’t.”

Paige leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. “I just wanted to win.”

Azzi squeezed her hand. “I know.”

They sat in silence again, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled.

Then, quietly, Azzi whispered, “You’re here now. That’s all I wanted tonight.”

Paige opened her eyes, turning to her.

She tightened her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her a little closer.

“Me too.”

The room stayed quiet.

Azzi stayed tucked into her side, her weight warm and grounding, her head resting just below Paige’s collarbone. Their fingers were still laced together, and Paige could feel the slow, steady rhythm of Azzi’s thumb brushing over hers, over and over like it was the only thing keeping them both tethered to the moment.

But Paige’s mind wasn’t still.

It was spinning—softly, slowly, with a kind of ache that sat somewhere between fear and wanting.

She could feel it rising, curling in her chest, in her throat.

The urge to make a move on her.

She didn’t know when it started. Maybe it had been building since that first night Azzi pulled her into a hug that lingered a second too long. Or maybe since the facetime call, when Azzi’s voice softened just for her. Or maybe it was this exact second, when everything felt a little cracked open and unguarded.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, so loud she was almost sure Azzi could hear it.

She glanced down.

Azzi was looking ahead, quiet and calm, completely still against her.

And beautiful. Not in the way people always said it like a compliment, but in a way that made Paige’s breath catch, like Azzi was the only thing in the room that felt real.

Paige lifted her hand free from Azzi's grasp slowly, hesitating only for a heartbeat before brushing her fingers under Azzi’s chin.

Azzi turned her face up at the touch, eyes meeting Paige’s.

Something shifted.

A silent, slow gravity pulling them in.

Paige leaned down just a little, her hand guiding Azzi’s face toward her. Azzi didn’t resist as she leaned  too, just as slowly, her eyes flicking down to Paige’s lips, breath catching.

There was a pause and then they met.

Soft.

Paige’s lips brushed against Azzi’s like she was testing the edge of something she wasn’t sure she deserved. Azzi melted into it instantly, her hand coming up to rest lightly on Paige’s chest, right over her heart feeling the way it raced beneath her palm.

The kiss deepened gently, their mouths moving in quiet sync, slow and warm and aching with everything they hadn’t said. Azzi’s lips parted slightly, and Paige followed her lead, her tongue just barely slipping past the edge, tasting her—soft, patient, nothing rushed.

Azzi sighed softly into her mouth, a small sound that made Paige’s whole body pulse.

They stayed like that, kissing in slow rhythm, breaths mingling, hearts loud in their chests.

When they finally parted, it wasn’t sudden. Just a slow, natural pull away, foreheads nearly touching.

Neither of them spoke.

Azzi smiled first—just a tiny, breathless curve of her lips.

Paige smiled back, eyes soft, thumb still brushing along Azzi’s cheek.

Azzi then tucked herself back against Paige as they intertwined their hands again and they just sat there in the stillness, pressed close, eyes shining, lips swollen and hearts steady in the quiet hum of something new.

Paige swallowed once, her eyes flicking down to their intertwined hands. Her thumb rubbed lightly along Azzi’s again, slower this time, almost nervous.

“I never really told you…” Paige’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I kept telling myself it was nothing. That you were just a friend, or my tutor… someone I could lean on.”

Azzi’s eyes stayed fixed on hers, patient and steady.

“But… I think I’ve felt something more for a while,” Paige admitted, the weight of the truth loosening from her chest. “I tried to ignore it. I thought maybe it was just me, or that it would pass.”

Azzi’s lips curved into a soft, understanding smile. “You’re not alone,” she said quietly. “I’ve been feeling it too. More than I wanted to admit.”

Paige’s heart skipped, the tension breaking in a fragile kind of relief.

“So… maybe,” Paige said, breath catching a little, “maybe we should stop pretending this is just friendship. What do you think about… going on a date ? Like, really going out ?”

Azzi’s smile widened, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I think that sounds perfect.”

They both laughed softly, a mix of nervousness and happiness blooming between them.

Before they could say more, Paige reached up, cupping Azzi’s face, and kissed her agin slowly and tenderly.

Azzi leaned into it, returning the kiss with the same gentle warmth. 

When they finally pulled apart, foreheads brushing, Paige let out a small, sheepish breath of a laugh. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I probably should’ve saved the first kiss for after the date.”

Azzi smiled, her voice soft. “It’s ok, I’m glad you didn’t.”

Their smiles lingered, quiet and full.

Then Azzi shifted just slightly, her voice a low whisper against Paige’s skin.

“Wait—before we fall asleep,” she said, pulling back with a small smile. “I gotta take a picture. For the memories. First kiss deserves some documentation.”

Paige blinked, then let out a quiet laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

Azzi was already slipping off the bed, grabbing her camera from the shelf by her desk. “Cmon,” she said, eyes gleaming as she held it up, walking back toward the bed. “We’re doing two. So we each get one.”

Paige rolled her eyes affectionately, but sat up straighter as Azzi climbed back beside her, camera held out in 1 hand as she leaned in again.

Their lips met just as the first flash went off—soft and smiling into the kiss, the moment sealed in light.

They kissed again for the second photo, slower this time, just as full of warmth. Azzi clicked the shutter and they parted again, both of them breathless with quiet laughter as the second polaroid whirred out of the camera.

A few minutes later, once the pictures had developed, Azzi grabbed a pink gel pen from her desk drawer and took 1 of the prints carefully in her hands.

She wrote the date in tiny numbers at the bottom of the polaroid’s border.

Then, she stood in front of her combo board in front of her desk, where other polaroids were already pinned—all of them including Paige.

She added the new 1 right next to them. The kiss. The beginning.

Paige watched from the bed, quiet, something soft blooming in her chest.

Azzi turned back to her with a grin, holding out the other photo. “Yours to keep.”

Paige took it, smiling down at the image in her hand. Then she looked up at Azzi.

“Thanks Az,” she whispered.

They crawled under the covers together, lights dimming, the world softening as they both drifted to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[lazysoulwriter]

behave. - pedro pascal. ── .✦

requested! thank you. content: public teasing, dirty texting, flustered!pedro, tension-building, established relationship, soft chaos, implied smut at the end

---

the group’s out for drinks — you, pedro, a few friends, someone’s birthday — but you’ve been stuck across the table from him all night.

he looks obscene.

the shirt’s unbuttoned just enough to show a glimpse of chest, and his sleeves are rolled up in that lazy, dangerous way that drives you insane. his fingers wrap around his glass like he’s doing it on purpose. and his voice — god, the voice — keeps dropping into that low, soft register when he laughs.

you can’t take it anymore.

so, like the menace you are, you pull your phone from your bag and send him a text under the table:

you’d let me sit on your face the second we get home, right? 🖤

across the table, pedro’s phone buzzes. he checks it casually… and freezes.

his jaw clenches. eyes flick down again. then up — straight at you.

you smile.

he looks away. tries to look away.

his ears turn red.

he types something back.

are you insane

you lean your chin in your hand, reply without blinking:

no, just really really needy. and you look so hot. this shirt should be illegal.

he exhales slowly. adjusts in his seat.

you send one more:

also. i’m not wearing anything under this dress. :)

he chokes.

literally chokes on his drink. coughs. waves off concern with a shaky, “i’m fine. just… went down the wrong pipe.”

your friend next to him pats his back.

you sip your wine and wink.

-

he corners you the second you’re alone in the hallway near the restrooms.

his hand goes to your waist, jaw clenched, eyes dark.

“you’re evil,” he whispers.

you grin up at him. “didn’t tell a single lie, though.”

his fingers tighten. “you’re really not wearing anything under this dress?”

“wanna check?”

he groans. leans in, presses his forehead to yours.

“when we get home,” he mutters, voice low and wrecked, “you’re not gonna get off my face for hours.”

“promise?”

he nods, breath hot against your mouth.

“but until then,” you whisper, “we behave.”

he closes his eyes like he’s in pain.

“you are killing me.”

you kiss his cheek. “that’s the idea.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @joelmillerpascal @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure@barnes70stark @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512 @alltounwell @libbyaller @beaagiannelli @broad-shouldrs @oceanmcu @kysosa @melloispunk @jollycupcakeblizzard @angvlicsoulll @needz1nk @daddypascal17 @agustdpeach @mrsbilicablog @k4t13ispunk @hotdadlvr95 @lnnysnts @pedropascalfan221 @queenofklonnie22 @christinamadsen @ilovecheriies @stvr-bloom

[rafesstar]

ｑ＆ａ

“wait, are we starting? are you recording already?”

“yeah, i told you i’d roll before you sat down. you always do something dumb right at the beginning and i need that.”

“wow, thank you, baby. that’s so loving of you.”

“mhm,” you grin, settling back against the couch cushions, thigh pressed to his, the warmth of his skin bleeding through his sweats. you hold the camera remote in one hand, the other draped low across your stomach, fingers twitching. “say hi to my subscribers.”

“hi, y/n’s subscribers,” he says, leaning toward the lens like he’s about to confess something, his hand ghosting over your leg before he snorts and flops back. “i’m drew, and apparently i do dumb shit at the beginning of every video.”

“yes you do.”

“and we love that,” he says, mocking your voice with a crooked smile. you roll your eyes, but your mouth won’t stop tugging up. the video’s just started and you already feel that tight coil pulling somewhere low, the anticipation of sitting next to him with lights on your face and cameras rolling. he always knows when you’re shifting under your skin, even when you don’t speak it.

“okay,” you say, scrolling through your phone, “i asked for questions this morning and they went hard, drew. they want the tea.”

“they always want the tea. they’re obsessed with us.”

“and for good reason. we’re hot.”

“so hot,” he agrees, fingers crawling subtly over your thigh, dipping between the folds of the blanket just far enough to make you look at him.

your breath stills, but your voice doesn’t. “okay, first question: who said ‘i love you’ first?”

“you did.”

“bullshit, i did not.”

“you did,” he insists, already grinning, eyes dropping to your mouth. “in the kitchen, that night you were drunk off two glasses of wine. you looked at me and said, ‘i love you so bad,’ and then you tried to kiss my eye.”

“that never happened.”

“babe.”

“i said that in my head.”

“you said it out loud. you also cried because you thought the garlic bread burned and you didn’t want me to think you were bad at cooking.”

you narrow your eyes. “you’re lying to make yourself look good.”

“no, you make me look good,” he says, and you hate the way it lands — flat and too sincere — and you hate even more the way it makes your stomach clench, all warm and sharp at once.

you flip to the next question, heart beating against your ribs now. “who’s more jealous?”

he barely thinks about it. “you.”

“fuck off.”

“no no no — don’t even pretend. remember that one assistant on set?”

“you mean the one who touched your arm every time she passed you and giggled like a schoolgirl?”

“exactly. you wouldn’t let go of my hand for three days.”

“because you let her touch you.”

“i did not. she brushed past me once. maybe twice.”

“twice every hour.”

he turns toward you now, that lazy smirk curving up again, his thumb pressing in just above your knee through the blanket. “admit it. you like when people want me and you know they can’t have me.”

you shift, the heat between your legs sparking under the way he says it, soft and low, almost private. the camera’s still running. you haven’t even made it past the second question. “i like reminding you that you’re mine.”

he hums, tilting his head. “remind me again.” your hand drops the phone into your lap. you lean in, slow, until your lips brush his, and the second they do, he’s pulling you in harder, mouth parting, teeth scraping at your lower lip. his hand slips under the blanket, palm landing hot and wide over the inside of your thigh. you shift, straddle him, the camera still pointed dead on—crooked now, catching only the top half of his face and your bent knee.

“you’re gonna fuck me on camera?”

“no,” you lie, breath already shaky, “we’re just answering questions.”

his laugh breaks warm against your mouth. “then ask me the next one.”

your phone buzzes once against your leg, but your hands are on his jaw now, holding him steady as you roll your hips over him, slow and grinding, chasing that friction. he’s already getting hard under you, and you swear under your breath when he lifts his hips just enough to meet you.

his fingers tug your tank top up, exposing skin inch by inch, his knuckles dragging along the soft slope of your stomach. your head drops against his shoulder, lips at his ear.

“i’m not wearing underwear.”

he growls and you feel it all the way down, a tight bolt snapping inside you. his hands are on your ass now, dragging you forward, pushing the blanket away without looking, like he doesn’t give a shit if the camera’s recording or not. your legs tremble where they cage around his waist, heat burning up every inch of you.

you grab at the hem of his shirt, tug it up and off, lean down and press your mouth to his chest, biting just hard enough to make him curse.

his fingers slide between your legs and you flinch when he touches you — swollen already, and slick. you’re dripping onto his sweatpants, and he drags one finger through the mess and brings it to his mouth.

“fuck, baby.”

you don’t wait — you can’t. you shove the waistband down, wrap your hand around his cock, thick and flushed, tip already leaking. you angle your hips and sink down in one slow motion, breath caught in your throat until you’re full, until your thighs are shaking from the stretch.

his hands dig into your hips, nails biting down. “god, you feel — fuck, so fucking tight—”

you rock, pace uneven, grinding against him with your head thrown back and eyes fluttering. he’s everywhere, under your skin, burning through you.

“say it,” he growls, voice rough. “say you love me again.”

you bite your lip, ride him harder, sweat slicking down your spine. “i love you — fuck—so bad it’s disgusting —”

he grabs your jaw, pulls you down, kisses you so deep your knees nearly give.

and then he flips you, slams you back into the cushions, your legs over his shoulders as he thrusts into you fast and brutal.

you reach up blindly, dragging your nails down his back, moaning his name over and over.

“mine,” he mutters, teeth at your throat, tongue dragging over your pulse.

the couch is shaking, the blanket on the floor, the camera still blinking red.

none of it matters.

only him. only this.

the heat. the sweat. the sounds. the fact that when you come, you sob into his shoulder and he holds you so tight you see stars.

he follows seconds later, hips stuttering, voice breaking on your name.

you lay there panting, tangled together, chest to chest, thighs sticky and trembling, the video still recording, catching nothing but the aftermath — hair matted and sticky, bodies ruined, breath gone.

you blink up at the ceiling. “…well that was a good q&a.”

he laughs, still inside you, still holding you close. “best one yet.”

you reach for the remote and kill the recording, a big smile covering your face.

[super-cold]

Lois got Clark the shirt while they were dating. She said his chest was bigger than hers. He'd laughed it off and never worn it.

Clark had been running short on clean laundry; his washing machine had broken, and his building manager basically ran for the hills anytime he called about repairs.His jobs had been keeping him busy too, with back to back deadlines and rescues. There was no time to get anything done.

So there he was, scrounging around for anything to wear on his day off in a while, before tackling the mess his apartment had become.That was when he found the shirt and the tiniest running shorts in the world. The only clothes that were still clean. He wasn't going outside. He wasn't expecting guests either. No one would see him.It was either wear what he had… or wear nothing at all.

That's how Bruce found him when his meeting in W.E's Metropolis branch ended hours early and he decided to drop in on his long time crush/best friend.

The door opened to Clark, hair disheveled, wearing the tightest outfit Bruce had ever seen him in (barring the Superman suit). And in bright red scrawled font, right across his perfect chest, the words:

“Big tits. Bigger dreams.”

Bruce had to be dreaming. He must have fallen asleep in the car, because this? This wasn't something he thought he'd ever get to see. He sent up silent gratitude. If he really was dreaming, his mind was feeding him the best.

'Bruce!? I wasn't expecting anyone.' Clark shrank back slightly, like he wanted to cover himself.

'My meeting ended early. I sent you a text.'

'My phone....I don't know where I left it.'

Bruce just stood there, not making any move to go inside. All he could see was Clark, the shirt clinging to his chest, the curve of his pecs, broad sculpted shoulders, the lettering arching perfectly across the swell of muscles. Bruce felt dizzy with the amount of chest he was being blessed with. He hadn't even bothered to look lower.

Clark stepped aside waving him in with a lazy arm, which made the hem of his shirt ride up a bit higher.

'You can come in. I was trying to get the place cleaned up. Sorry about the mess.'

Bruce's eyes trailed down slightly to see to his surprise (or delight he wasn't quite sure), Clark was also wearing the tiniest running shorts imaginable. They clung to his thick, muscled thighs like they were a second skin.

Bruce finally moved, feeling proud that he hadn't walked right into the doorframe.

He stepped past with a muttered, ‘Nice shirt.’

He couldn't help it , his brain to mouth connection had completely stuttered somewhere between the words ‘Big tits’ and the plains of Clark's thighs.

Clark looked down at his outfit, a flush creeping up his neck.

'Right..I was running low on clothes. Lois gave it to me as a joke a while back.'

'I'm sure... ' Bruce suddenly felt like he needed to send Lois a gift basket.

'You alright? You seem a bit off…Is it hot outside or something?' Clark asked, glancing over with concern. Bruce was uncharacteristically red in the face.

Bruce's mouth moved before his brain could catch up, again.

'Yes. That sure is hot… Outside.'

'What?'

'I need some water.' Bruce sighed.

[bvidzsoo]

Hii! First of all congratulations on 3.5k! Secondly, for your prompt ask, can I request a fluff one-shot with jongho and number 46? Maybe the plot can be that jingo isn't big on physical touch but he comes home quite drunk and is feeling cuddly?

coffee-stained love

Pairing: athlete!Choi Jongho x gender neutral reader

❀ TW: none, just tooth-rotting fluff ❀ Word count: 2.6k ❀ Genre: fluff; established relationship; meet cute; coffee shop au; soccer captain!Jongho; university setting, and post-uni setting @cromernet ❀ Rating: pg-13 ❀ Prompt(s): 46: You come to my room and wake me up at 4 am, to cuddle?

A/N: Ahh, hello my lovelies! It's been long since I posted on here, huh...well, surprise, I'm back with a short event that you can still participate in until the 8th of June! Here are the prompts from which you can request, please read the criteria carefully! Thank you for all the requests so far, I was really happy to see so many of you interested! I hope that this story is to your liking, anonie, thank you for requesting and for the love! Feedback is always much appreciated, happy reading! ^^ divider

Meeting the love of your life happened quickly and in a very mundane way, which completely skewed your perception of love. Now, don’t you get it wrong…you’ve always been a romantic at heart, it’s just that you have watched one too many rom-coms and read perhaps an excessive amount of romance books to know that a love like that only happened in fictional stories. There was no way you’d meet the love of your life on the subway on your way home, exhausted out of your mind listening to the same song as you—and bam, you are suddenly bonding over it, and then the next second you find yourselves taking the next big step. You also knew there was no way you’d find the love of your life at a library, reaching for the same book at the same time. All it would’ve taken was just the brush of your fingertips—and there you have it; you are giving birth to your second child four years later. And yes, you also knew there was no way on Earth you’d find the love of your life at a coffee shop because he spilt his drink on you—of course not, what kind of fairy-tale would you be living in if it happened like that?

Except that…well, yes…the day you met the love of your life you had been running late, half of your lecture already over, but you knew without a strong coffee you wouldn’t make it through the day, so…priorities first. It just so happened that a guy you knew in passing from campus was running late, too, rushing and completely missing the person approaching from behind, eyes glued to their phone. And you guessed it again…that person was you, freaking out over the fact that your friend texted you about a term paper you had completely forgotten about. Before you could type back, though, something hard crashed against your chest, followed by a hot sensation. You gasped and jumped back; eyes wide as you stared down at your now coffee-stained shirt. The deep brown looked ugly against your once pristine clear ironed shirt, and for a second you were dumbfounded. The guy who had spilt his whole cup of coffee on you was spluttering in front of you, his eyes wide and his cheeks a deep red.

“I am so sorry!” He said rushed, not knowing what do to with his hands next. You tried to reign in your annoyance as you sighed, finally looking up at the guy. And even though you’d never admit it—not even all these years later—it was love at first sight. His chubby red cheeks, his pretty brown eyes all round and frightened, the downturn of his pink plush lips and his cute nostrils flaring…you were endeared despite the hot liquid slightly burning your skin, “Oh, I’m such a mess this morning. I’m so-so sorry…”

You gulped and looked down at your shirt again, realising that you’d seen this guy on campus before. So, to mask your annoyance, you said the first thing that came to your mind, “Hey, you’re on the soccer team, right?”

The guy in front of you looked taken aback and confused as he tilted his head, “Uhm, yes…I’m the captain of the team.”

“Huh, thought so,” You muttered to yourself, his expression adorable as he looked at you in confusion, “We go to the same Uni.”

His eyes widened in realisation as he nodded, glancing down at the coffee stain again, “So, uhm, about your shirt—”

“Right, don’t worry about it—”

“No, no!” The guy was quick to cut you off, shaking his empty hand to physically stop you from brushing this matter off so quickly, “Let me dry clean it for you, it’s the least I can do after I ruined it.”

“It’s not ruined,” You muttered as you pulled at the material, realising you’d have to head home and change. That meant you wouldn’t show up to your first lesson at all today…great, just what you needed, “A little bleach and it’s all new.”

“Don’t bleach it,” The guy frowned, leaning in to take a closer look at the shirt, “I think it’ll ruin the fabric.”

The guy didn’t seem to realise that he was staring straight at your breasts as the stain covered the left side of your chest, and when he glanced up with innocent eyes, you burst into laughter, making him confused once again. He took a second to realise where his eyes were, and he gasped as he stood up straight, blushing even more furiously, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that! I’m so…God, this morning is just terrible.”

“Aw, I’ve run into people under silly circumstances but nobody has called it terrible before.” You pouted as you teased the guy, watching his expression morph into terror and embarrassment, “I’m just joking, hey!”

“Right…” The guy muttered, fishing his phone out of his pocket, “So, uhm, here’s my number for when you want to reach out…”

He turned his phone around, his number on display, so you went into your contacts and typed it in, realising that you had no idea what his name was. You hummed and looked up at him, smiling at him almost shyly as you pursed your lips.

“So, uhm…I don’t know your name…” The guy then grinned and stepped back, straightening his back as he reached a hand out for you to shake. You were taken aback but reacted quickly.

“I’m Choi Jongho, nice to meet you!” And the grin on his lips made you forget what you were about to do or say, and you jumped when he finally shook your hand. You were blushing furiously, you felt your cheeks burning as you chuckled, nodding to yourself. You typed in his name as Jongho—soccer captain, and cleared your throat before telling him your name. Jongho looked abashed as he typed in your number too, saving it so that he could reach out to you when the shirt was all clean and dry.

“So, uh,” Jongho stared at the ground as he rubbed his nape, almost reminding you of that one meme of Kevin James standing abashedly with a grin on his face, and you had to fight all demons inside you to not laugh at him, “Do you often come to my games?”

“Oh, no,” You shook your head, frowning a bit, “I hate soccer but my friend always drags me with her—no offence! It’s just…I find it boring, I guess.”

Jongho’s expression fell a little and you felt bad for being so honest, so you quickly tried to do a bit of damage control, “But! You are a great player, last time your team won because you scored in the last minute, right?”

“Yes, exactly!” Jongho answered quickly with an excited smile, “Well, tell me next time if you plan on coming to the game and maybe I can make it less boring for you.”

“Yeah?” You raised your eyebrows at Jongho, who nodded with an excited glint in his eyes. Your heart was racing and you hadn’t even noticed it until now, but as the silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but focus on your thundering heart. Jongho was really cute as he stood in front of you, dressed in shorts that reached below his knees, white socks covering his calves and a light rain jacket over his clothes as the sky promised a downpour anytime now. His duffle bag was slung over one shoulder and his empty cup of coffee was still gripped in his hand. He wore one ring on the forefinger of his right hand, the infinity symbol engraved into the silver, and pretty, small, white gemstones glinted in it under the ceiling lights, “So, it was nice talking to you, but I should get to the library since I missed my first lecture.”

“Oh my God,” Jongho’s eyes widened, his expression panic-stricken, “Am I the reason you are late?!”

“No!” You laughed, finding Jongho cuter by the minute as you reached out absentmindedly, patting his forearm, “I was already late before coming here.”

But you forgot to retract your hold on his arm right away and Jongho noticed, and so did you when you both looked down at your hand gripping his arm, “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Both of you noticed the shy smiles on each other’s faces as you blushed, chuckling to yourselves and looking to the side. And even though you’ve told the story of how you two met numerous times to the world, you could never grow tired of it as it always made you smile. It was a fond memory which you liked to recall from time to time.

Even though the two of you met ages ago under rather unusual—almost fairytale-like circumstances—your relationship was still standing, more than stable. I mean, with a ring on your finger, it would’ve been jarring to be any other way. Jongho has been a sweetheart to you from the very beginning of your meeting, but don’t be fooled…underneath all that cuteness and softness hides a dorky and silly man, with tricks up his sleeve or dumb pranks that either have you laughing for hours, or chasing him around the house until you’ve tackled him to the ground, his punishment being getting tickled.

It’s always been like that with Jongho, though: easy and loving. He’s always been straightforward with you and playful, not scared to be vocal about his love for you…maybe because he wasn’t too fond of physical touch, he found alternatives to express it. It wasn’t a great issue for you since you preferred quality time spent together rather than sharing kisses and hugs randomly or cuddling up on the couch while watching a movie. You both liked your space, so even the smallest of touches shared between the safety of your walls were cherished greatly. You had gone to sleep early after Jongho’s game as you were tired from the road trip, declining the invitation to hang out with Jongho and his team, the other wives tagging along, too.

You loved the celebratory dinners, but you could barely keep your eyes open by the time you were driven back to the hotel, so with a swift kiss from Jongho, you retreated to your room. When Jongho was on tour with his team and you could take days off from your work to follow him, you’d always book two rooms adjacent so that Jongho wouldn’t wake you as he had to get up early in the mornings. It’s what worked best for you as you valued your sleep, and Jongho wasn’t an exactly quiet person as he bumped into things half-awake, groaning and muttering curses under his breath as he woke you on accident too, making you chuckle before you’d go back to sleep.

On the mornings he’d have to leave early, Jongho would brew you coffee and put together a quick breakfast. It was sweet and it always made you smile as you read the note he’d leave plastered on the fridge. You’d write one back as sometimes he would return before you did from work, baking him his favourite cookies even if he wasn’t allowed to eat them during the tournament season. It was a small habit you had developed once you moved in together after university.

He had proposed half a year ago and the wedding was in two years, and Jongho was way more ecstatic than you, taking care of things attentively. Just today, you had gotten an email about the venues Jongho had chosen—something simple by the sea since you both loved the beach. You planned to check all the links and descriptions about the venues tonight, but you had been so sleepy after the game that the second your head hit the pillow, you were out cold.

The sheets were soft and silky, cold when you had gotten wrapped up in them, pulling your body into it as your muscles relaxed. You had no idea for how long you had been asleep, but as you groaned and tried to blink your heavy eyes open, it was still dark in the room. There was a creak in the doorway and then a groan, and you hummed as you flipped onto your back, rubbing your eyes before you sat up. Your fiancé, clad in nothing but his t-shirt and boxers, was hopping on one leg as he tried to pull the pantleg of his jeans off. You chuckled as your eyes adjusted to the dark and the figure in your doorway, hair all mussed up.

“Jongho,” You said when he was finally free from the clutches of his jeans, “What are you doing?”

Jongho pouted as he looked up, trudging towards your bed sluggishly, “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, you weren’t exactly quiet.” You raised an eyebrow as Jongho huffed, then got on your bed, slowly crawling towards you. His cheeks were red and you realised he had changed his t-shirt before coming to your bed, “Are you drunk, babe?”

“Wasted.” Jongho giggled as his face came close to yours, his breath fresh and his cheeks still damp from having just washed up, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You chuckled as you kissed Jongho’s puckered lips, his eyes closed, “Tired?”

“Yes, now,” Jongho giggled before he tackled you down into the sheets, making you gasp as he landed on top of you. Jongho’s body was sturdy and well-built due to him being an athlete, and you struggled to hold his weight as he was crushing your lungs, but you couldn’t say anything as he started peppering your face with kisses, giggling to himself and making you snicker too, “Let’s cuddle.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, cupping his cheeks to stop him from giving you more ticklish kisses, “The Choi Jongho…”

You glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, eyes widening, “Came to my room and woke me up at 4 am, to cuddle?!”

Jongho giggled again then got off you, kissing your lips tenderly before he settled down next to your side, “So, what are you waiting for? I want to be the little spoon.”

You laughed and shook your head, settling behind Jongho as he turned on his side, humming in contentment once your arm was around him, a leg thrown over his hip and your chest pressed into his back firmly. Jongho then sighed and you felt his body relaxing, his breathing quiet as you raised your head to kiss his nape softly. You cherished moments like this one dearly, your whole being so fond of the man in your arms that sometimes you didn’t know what to do with such an overwhelming feeling. It was consuming in the best way possible, intense as it made you feel lively. You had no idea what you’d do without Jongho in your life, and you hoped you’d never find out now. He was yours, and you two were meant to be…that’s one thing you were completely sure about.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Jongho whispered and you felt your heart swell, your grip tightening around your fiancé.

“And I love you, my Joongie.” You whispered back into his skin as you felt your body grow heavy once again, sleep coming even faster than earlier in the evening now that the love of your life was in your arms, his warmth the most comforting feeling ever, his cologne and soft breaths familiar. And maybe you weren’t in a fairytale or rom-com, but you were sure you had gotten your happy ending with Jongho by your side.

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[gldwing]

Stay?

Warnings: no warnings, just angst and fluff. A/N: this is my first fic ever, i've taken inspo from other lovely writers on this platform. i also just felt like writing something so enjooooooooooooyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -------------------------------------------------------------------- The door clicked behind you harder than intended. Billie didn’t flinch.

She was sitting on the couch, phone face-down on the armrest, eyes blank, arms crossed like she’d been sitting in the same position for hours. The TV was still playing something no one was watching.

You didn’t bother easing into it this time.

“Are you seriously gonna keep ignoring me?”

She didn’t look up. “Not ignoring. Just done talking.”

“Cool,” you muttered. “That makes this way easier.”

Now she looked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m sick of being in a relationship with someone who clearly doesn’t want to be in one.”

Her laugh was short, humourless. “Right. Because I’m not giving you a fairy tale, I must not give a shit.”

“No. Because I ask what’s wrong and you shut down. I try to help and you treat me like the enemy. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she snapped, standing. “You’re not responsible for how I feel.”

“No,” you said. “But I’m affected by it. And you pretending like I’m not just makes this worse.”

Billie was already pacing. “You want me to bleed out in front of you every time I’m off just so you can feel better about yourself?”

“Jesus, no. I just want to not feel like a stranger in my own relationship.”

The room was still for a beat.

She ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t ask for this conversation.”

“Yeah? Well I didn’t ask to feel like I’m fucking begging for scraps.”

Billie looked at you like she hated you for a second. Not really. Not truly. Just that flash of I want this to hurt less, and right now you’re the closest target.

“Maybe you should just leave,” she said.

You didn’t move.

She blinked. “Go on. Door’s right there.”

You stared at her. “That what you want?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“You want me to leave? Then say it like you mean it.”

She looked away.

“Billie.”

Still nothing.

You exhaled, slow and shaky. “I’m not playing chicken with you. I’m not standing here hoping you’ll stop me. You either want to figure this out or you don’t. But I’m not gonna keep showing up for someone who doesn’t show up back.”

For a long time, the only sound in the room was the buzz of the fridge. Then:

“I don’t know how to let people stay,” she said flatly. Not emotional. Not dramatic. Just tired. “I’m always waiting for the day you stop trying.”

You walked over, slowly. Sat down next to her without touching her.

“I already tried. Every day. Still doing it.”

“I know,” she whispered.

You looked at her.

“I’m not asking you to magically be okay,” you said. “I’m asking you to stop punishing me for giving a shit.”

She didn’t respond right away. Just stared at the wall like it held all the words she didn’t want to say.

Then she shifted - just barely - leaned her shoulder against yours.

You didn’t move.

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

“Then stop pushing me like you do.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I’ll try.”

She didn’t move for a moment. Then, with a quiet, almost hesitant breath, she curled into you. Full body. Not just a lean, but like she was exhausted and letting herself give up the weight of everything she’d been holding. Her head tucked into your chest, her hand found your hoodie and fisted into it like she needed something solid.

You wrapped your arms around her immediately. No hesitation this time.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice small, muffled. “I mean it.”

You kissed her hair. “I know.”

“I just get scared. Even when nothing’s wrong.”

“I get it,” you said. “I really do.”

She pulled back enough to look at you, eyes glassy but open for once - really open. “I’ll get better at saying it. I’ll stop making you guess.”

You nodded. “And I’ll stop treating every silence like a threat.”

She gave a soft, broken laugh. “We’re a mess.”

“Yeah,” you said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “But I like you. Kind of a lot.”

She smiled - tired, but real. “You like me, huh?”

You shrugged. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Billie leaned in and kissed you. It wasn’t slow or dramatic - just warm. Familiar. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for forgiveness, just offered peace.

When she pulled away, she whispered, “Stay?”

“Always,” you said.

She grabbed the blanket from the couch, draped it over both of you, and burrowed into your side like she finally let herself be soft without apology.

The TV kept playing in the background, but neither of you paid attention. She fell asleep with your fingers laced in hers, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like something had actually shifted.

Not fixed. Not perfect.

But hers. And worth it.

[sevsbunny]

Can you write a sevika fic where the reader purposefully makes sevika jealous and they have rough sex and the reader gets spanked (＞人＜;)

I’m so embarrassed asking lol

I also loved your sevika fic, as smn who also smokes I rlly enjoyed it♥️♥️

hehe thank you!

sevika is very, very protective of you.

where you guys are out a restaurant and she has to sit next to you in the booth

or you’re walking the streets of zaun at night after a movie, and her arm is wrapped tightly around your shoulders — keeping you tucked snug under her armpit

you love when she would show her protective and jealous side. she got obsessive, handsy

ever since she had been appointed to be councilor, the two of you hadn’t really found time to just be with each other

it was starting to make you feel a little insane, really

you craved sevika’s touch. you needed her hands all over your body, your skin

she worked late most weekdays, coming home after dinner has been well warmed and gone cold from sitting in the fridge

you’re usually already tucked away and in bed by the time she gets home, back facing her side and your nightstand lamp shade off

she hates seeing you when you’re already asleep, she never has enough time with you.

one night you thought the same

you knew she was going to be coming home late that night and you were just so high strung out from being touch deprived and used by your girlfriend, you wanted to take matters into your own hands

it was a simple rule you had to follow, really: if sevika was away, no touching yourself

you obeyed. most of the time.

this time you didn’t. you needed her, and you knew she wasn’t going to give you what you wanted. you knew it would make her jealous, mad.

it felt like the only way to get her hands on you.

you looked over at the time on the clock on your nightstand. only about an hour or so before she got home.

perfect time to warm yourself up and tease her.

taking your shirt off, you pull it over your head and go to reach for sevika’s pillow, before placing it between your thighs

you hunched over the soft pillow, the scent of sevika invading your nostrils and making your brain feel fuzzy already

you slept without underwear, so you already had your cunt pressed snug against the fluffy pillow

you let out a soft moan as you added some pressure, your hips pushing into the pillow as you gripped the sheet in front of you

pulling out your phone, you angle the camera to take a picture, exposing your entire left nude side

you blush darkly as you hover over the send button, knowing she’ll get home the second she sees that

and she does.

she’s on you in an instant, you’re sprawled over her lap with your panties shoved down and she’s swiping her fingers through your slick folds

“shame you already came.” she grunts as she smacks your wet pussy. “would’ve gotten you to cum on my dick.”

you whine. shit.

she grins as your response before taking her fingers away and smacking your ass. “you’re going to count how many spanks yoj think you deserve for cumming with out daddy’s permission.”

you feel her strap nudge against your side as you’re on her lap

“sev..” she tuts, another smack.

“who am i?”

“se-sev—“

another smack

and you’re in tears by the time you finally brat it out, ass red and having already been spanked and counted at least 15 times

“‘m sorry daddy…” you sniffle as she rubs your ass, kissing the back of your head.

“i know pretty baby. but i hope now you’ve learned your lesson.”

[cloudedangels]

Extended Leave ♡ (PT 2) 18+

Read Part One ♡

▪︎ Fem!Caleb x Fem!Reader ▪︎ AU ▪︎ 18+ No minors pls ▪︎ inspired by this drabble I wrote on my other acc ▪︎ 2,293 words

fic playlist 🎧

She heard you last night. You know. She knows you know that she knows. You wake up without her. Something's gone missing. But she's not going to mention it. It's like she's waiting for you to snap or maybe she's wanting you forget...

Tags/cws: fem!Caleb, fem!reader, AU, pilot!caleb, childhood friends to whatever this is, slow burn, domestic intimacy, teen years flashback, soft butch x soft femme, mutual pining, unspoken feelings, quiet yearning, hurt/comfort, fluff?, tension and tenderness, soft dom!Caleb, sapphic romance, military leave, found family, period comfort, implied masturbation, repressed desire, emotional intimacy, subtle possessiveness, soft angst, slice of life, bed sharing, love languages (acts of service), fem!caleb the panty bandit, she's a perv of the highest degree—understand and expect it, fem!caleb barely hiding the level of her obsession–for now >;), she's a lowkey yandere

The next morning, when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the emptiness in the right side of your bed. You grab your phone to see that it's eleven in the morning, and you already got one of Caleb's classic texts half an hour ago. Your heart skips as you open it.

you usually don't wake up before noon, so i will be back then

but if you do, don't freak out! i just went to the gym and the store.

i'll be back all sweaty and with gifts (／▽＼)♪

also laundry is already done and in folded into your drawers

pls close ur conditioner if u shower again (｀_´メ)

♡ jie jie ♡

You let out a breathy laugh at her messages. So she's not going to talk about last night again? It only takes a small scroll upwards to see her messages from the night before and your cheeks grow exponentially hotter.

Let me help next time. (≡・x・≡)

Classic Caleb. She'll tease you like this and then disappear. Act like nothing even happened. It's the same way she acted after the first time she kissed you.

☆☆☆☆☆

You were 14. She was 16. You'd gone with her to this party one of her friends from the varsity girls’ basketball team was having. She said you were too serious. Needed to learn to have more fun. You didn't play sports, but you went to every one of Caleb's games and eventually everyone knew you as Caleb's yes-girl and cheerleader, a title you wore with pride. You'd been saying how she never let you into her cool-girl world. So she brought you along.

Your crush was there. The lanky guy from the JV boys’ team. You were lab partners and he was relatively nice in class, nice to look at too—that was all a crush needed, you thought. When a group announced they'd be playing a frankenmesh of truth or dare and spin the bottle, you looked over longingly. Caleb took one look at you, you looked up at her, and in a split second she grabbed your hand and pulled you over with the rest of them.

“C’mon I'll go with you, if you want to do it we'll do it together.”

JV boy went first and your breath stopped when the bottle stopped at you, like a movie. You felt Caleb tense next to you. There was a short yet suspended moment between, where you wondered: would he kiss you, pick a truth or a dare?

Then he made a face. A disgusted face to be precise. But he leaned in anyway, with no time for you to process and kissed you before wiping his lips and muttering “gross”. You weren't even thinking as you got up and ran out through the back porch's screen door, tears singing in the corner of your eyes, Caleb trailing behind you.

“Mei mei, wait up!”

Your back was against the side of the house, your chest heaving up and down as tears you were trying to suck back in streamed down your face. The November air was too cool against your skin and it made you shiver.

Caleb appeared in front of you almost instantly, hands on either of your shoulders begging you to look at her.

“Hey, look at me, pipsqueak, that guy's nothing, you hear me? Boys are dumb—you can't let that get to you. He was probably trying to impress some other bitch, don't think about it too deep.”

None of that cheered you up, you started crying harder. She grabbed your face then. Two hands on either cheek forcing you to look at her. Her shoulder-length hair shaggy and brushing the tops of her shoulders.

“Close your eyes for me. Don't open until I say so, alright?”

You sniffled out a snot-nosed okay and closed them, confused at what she was trying to do. You felt the sleeves of her varsity jacket wipe your gross face, the sudden weight of it as she placed it over your shoulders. Felt her kiss on your temple. Then, like it was meant to happen, you felt her lips, soft and careful, on yours. Your heart almost stuttered its way out through your throat and your eyes flew open. As fast as it happened it was over.

“That was just so you’d know what it should feel like. Okay? You don't deserve to feel like that."

When you blinked at her, dumbfounded and a little confused, she shrugged it off.

“Don’t make it weird. I just wanted you to know. You can keep that jacket if you want. It looks better in you anyway, and it's cold, mei mei."

Then just like that, she grabbed your hand and she drove you back to her grandmother's house. Like the party never mattered anyway.

She never brought it up again, but she was gone in the morning. Texted you that she had to take care of something, came back in the early afternoon, and asked to watch a movie with you. The next day in class, your lab partner came back with two black eyes, a split lip, a refusal to tell anyone how he got them, and an inability to look you in the eyes. But you knew.

☆☆☆☆☆

You sit up and rub the heels of your palms into your eyes and will yourself to get out of bed.

“God, I hate her.” You don't. There's clothes laid out on the end of your bed, for after your shower you guess. A pair of jean shorts and a cute blue t-shirt. Looking at it the thought almost passes before you catch it.

‘The shirt's the same shade as—’ Your face goes hot again. You look in the drawers where she said she put your laundry. It's all so neat, reorganized, and color-coded. That's what makes it obvious. The sky-blue panties from last night aren't there. You run to your bathroom and check the laundry basket, your heart rate erratic and impossibly warm in the face. Nothing. It's empty.

You think about her hands touching them, you think of her laying in bed while you struggled to muffle your moans in your late night shower. You think of her texts.

trying to make me crazy…

let me help you….

“Fuck, Caleb. What are you doing to me?” You whisper out loud. Barely loud enough to even hear yourself. You brush your teeth and splash as much cold water as you can onto your face before walking into the kitchen. It's strange without her here, telling you to eat some elaborate curated-just-for-you meal. The air conditioner and the refrigerator hum as if to replace the sound of her shuffling around in her absence.

You open the fridge and the first thing you notice is a glass Tupperware with a sticky note on top.

I made you these ⚡️reheat 22 seconds if you're hungry ⚡️

rice is in rice cooker. should be warm!

♡, C xx

There's two badly drawn cats on it that make you laugh because they're obviously supposed to be the two of you.

Soy eggs!~ You don't bother warming them up but you eat them cold with chopsticks eating rice directly out of the rice cooker. ‘How does she manage to be everywhere at once?’ You wonder, but the food is so good it's hard to care.

You catch a glance at her unopened duffel on the couch. You could open it, see if… if what? If she took your underwear and put them in her duffel bag? You shake your head, and instead put her hoodie on. She left it lying on the back of the couch, and as you pull it over your head you notice that it smells good. Like her. Like her muscle balm and lavender deodorant, mixed with your body wash. You sneak an inhale, pulling it to your nose and telling yourself it's nothing.

But it smells so good…

You startle at the sound of an opening door. It's exactly 11:50, and Caleb's walking in. Shiny and strong, with bags and more bags in both of her arms.

“You're up early, pips. Trying to impress me?”

She's already zooming through the kitchen plugging items in their place, barely acting like you're even there. You clear your throat.

“Um… Thank you for cooking, the eggs were really good.”

You sound like a much smaller version of yourself than you mean to. She whips around and you get your first bagless look at her. She's glistening with sweat, sports bra and basketball shorts, her abs shiny and washboard-impressive. She's got the laziest smirk on her face. She walks over to you swiping a little pink gift bag off of the counter.

She leans in too close to you with one hand flat on the countertop and the other dangling the bag above you. She's so close you could… oh god. Even her sweat smells intoxicating and confusing.

“Of course I cooked for you, who would I be if I let you starve in a cold bed?” She coos low and saturated, still too close.

“I got you something.”

She dangles the bag just a bit too high for you to grab. You reach for it and she pulls it higher.

“Ah ah ah!~ Nope. You have to promise not to open it until the next time I go out, mmkay?”

“You're a sadist.” You mumble.

“Ah yes, a sadist who waits on you hand n foot, there are plenty of those…”

You stick your tongue out as if it's easy to be this silly with her chest and her bicep in your face.

“Ugh fine, you bossy bitch,” you retort. It comes out sharper than you meant for it to but she just grins even wider regardless.

“Woof.” She hands you the bag then.

There's a frozen moment. She's looking at you like it's a dare. You look in her violet eyes and you can't help but wonder what she's seeing. You feel like a cornered prey animal, and your eyes flick across her face. Eyes, lips, eyes again. You still can't read her expression. There's something underneath it, that you know. But what? You look away and turn to take the bag when she grabs you by the wrist and whips you around.

“Didn’t know ovulation was hitting you that hard, mei mei.”

“Keep looking at me like that and I’d think you wanted me.~”

Your jaw falls slack in… shock? Yes, shock.

“I-I'm not—”

She scoffs, her hands still gripping your wrist almost too tight.

“You definitely are, but whatever. I'll take those red cheeks as a compliment.”

“You're... intense, Caleb.” You practically whisper it.

“Tell me I'm wrong, then,” she challenges.

There's another frozen moment before you yank away your arm and shake your hand out, nervously blurting the words, “You're sweaty. You should shower.”

She bursts out laughing at that. “Not before I get my sweaty… preshower…. hugggg.”

Your face lights as she starts to open her arms, and you quickly put down the gift bag and dodge to the other side of the counter. “Gross!”

And suddenly you're kids again. She's chasing you in circles around the kitchen, long arms and grabby hands. You run almost too fast, half-tripping over your own bare feet when you barrel towards the bedroom and hop onto the bed as she chases you.

The two of you are wrestling like you did when you were kids and she'd say, "Kicking is CHEATING, mei mei!” And you would say, “Not when you're stronger, you ANIMAL!”

And here you are, giggling with a pillow between you and your feet in defence mode, as she's squealing and laughing with you. Eventually you feel yourself getting tired, a losing fight.

And just like that, with just that little bit of give, in your second of catching your breath, she's got you. Pinned under her, then wrapped tight in her arms, then spun around. You're on top of her, trapped in her iron embrace with her lying beneath you. Your face is buried in her chest. You stop laughing before she does, her giggles shaking through her, through you.

She rests her chin at the top of your head, her grip loosening a bit as you feel her inhale. You take that opportunity to get more comfortable and look at her, squirming a little to get into a better position. Her head buries into your neck.

She hums. “You smell good, pips.”

“N-no, it's probably your hoodie, I haven't showered yet, either. I didn't know when you'd be back and… I didn't want to use up the hot water.”

Her laugh sounds… pleased. “Hmm, so we're both gross. I’d almost think you wanted to shower with me, then.”

You don't have time to cover up your gasp before she's flipped you over and gotten up. She's already headed towards the door with you on the bed. Her back is towards you as she walks out, and her shorts have ridden down a bit—enough for you to see it—an unmistakable band of sky-blue lace.

She whips her head back in that sly, charming way of hers before she leaves the room.

“I’ll be quick. Don’t sweat.”

She heads into the shower, leaving you on the bed. You're flushed, aching, and unsure if you’re more or less sane than when she walked in earlier. You press your palms to your cheeks... as if it’ll cool the flush that hasn’t gone away since she walked in. You can still smell her on the hoodie you're wearing. You can still feel her… not on your skin, but underneath it, spreading herself into places you’ve tried to keep safe. But what from? How?

Tags 🏷: @chewbrry @grlpartdoll @jetterdonna

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series lmk in comments or reblogs! (Must have age in bio)

[eddiazx]

at last i see the light - eddie diaz x reader

Based on this request: Can we have a cute and fluffy Eddie confession fic? At a lantern festival! Reader suggests taking Chris. There's food and music and you can decorate your lantern before sending them up in the sky. Chris has been trying to convince Eddie to confess to her for awhile and after seeing her literally glow from the pretty lights, he figures now is the best time? + first kiss 😘

"Guys, we should go, it sounds like a lot of fun!" You exclaim one night, sat on the couch between Eddie and Chris, waving around your phone.

The fun in question was a lantern festival. Eddie admits that it did look cool, but truthfully, Eddie would find filing taxes cool if he were doing it with you.

The revelation that he was in love with you, his best friend, was a relatively new one. Although according to Chris, it was a long time coming because Eddie had definite "heart eyes" for you. In fact, Eddie was probably looking at you with said eyes right now, if the smirk on Christopher's face was anything to go by.

Remember when Chris was an innocent little child and not a sarcastic teenager? Yeah, neither can Eddie.

"We should go." Eddie assents with a nod. You pump your arm with enthusiasm, before heading into the kitchen to grab some more popcorn.

"Dad, when're you gonna tell her you love her?" Chris asks.

"Christopher!" Eddie hisses, whipping his head back to make sure you hadn't heard.

"Come on, Dad. What's the hold up? Just tell her already." Chris bemoans.

"It's just...not the right time, okay?" Eddie sputters.

"There isn't a right or wrong time to tell someone you love them, Dad." Chris states, wisely and seriously.

Eddie stares at Chris, impressed and in awe. God, he loves his kid. "Alright there, Dr. Phil."

"Who?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The night of the lantern festival, the sky was clear, filled with a quiet excitement. Light music floated all around you, and you're pretty sure you had eaten your weight in baos and dumplings.

"Come on, it's time to write our wishes." You note, tugging gently on Eddie's arm. The two of you were alone; Chris abandoning the two of you the second he had spotted Denny and Mara with Karen and Toni.

Eddie nods fondly, letting you drag him to wherever you wanted. If he stares longingly at the spot where you had pulled on his arm, that's between him and his lovesick heart, alright?

"So, whatcha wishing for?" You tease Eddie, tapping the pen against your lips while you think of a wish.

"Isn't that against wishing rules?" Eddie teases back.

"Fine." You harrumph. You eventually scribble something on the lantern, before bending down and releasing it into the water. Your gaze follows it through, watching as it cascades down with the water, an awestruck smile gracing your face.

Eddie's positive he has a similar smile on his own face, as he stares at your profile, a profile that was lit aglow by dozens of lanterns floating around the two of you.

"True love." He says, after a few minutes.

"What's that?" You question, turning to face him with a soft smile still on your face.

"I know it's cheesy... but that was my wish. True love."

"It's not cheesy. I wish that for you too, Eddie."

"I.. uh, also have something to tell you. And... I'm not sure how to." Eddie stammers.

"Eddie. It's just me. Don't be nervous." You coax gently.

"You're probably the only person who can make me nervous, to be fair." Eddie laughs breathlessly.

You don't laugh with him, your eyes questioning and urging him to come out with it.

"I love you. I know we're best friends, and I don't mean to make things awkward, but I really do-"

Eddie's words are cut off with your lips on his, slow, hesitant, but a perfect kiss, nonetheless.

"I love you, too." You whisper.

"Good, because otherwise that kiss would've made things weird." Eddie jokes.

You smack his chest playfully, before resting your head against his neck. Eddie leans down to drop a kiss on your head, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Chris giving him a thumbs up and a beaming grin.

Eddie smiles, knowing that the warmth that he was feeling was independent of the lanterns around him.

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

I need more dad bill with a daughter fics I love them they are so good

(YES YES YES!

Title: "Main Charater Energy"

You’re chopping onions when you hear the front door slam. Your daughter storms past you — coat half-on, backpack dragging, face red and splotchy — and vanishes into her room.

Bill looks up from his laptop, one boot propped on the coffee table. “That’s not normal,” he says like he’s narrating a crime scene.

“She didn’t say anything?” you ask.

“Not a word. Just a grunt. Sounded like something outta The Exorcist.”

You wipe your hands and follow her down the hall. Ten minutes later, she’s in your lap, tear-streaked, small fists clutching your shirt. You stroke her back, ask her to breathe. Eventually, she tells you.

It was a boy at school.

He called her a “stupid bitch” who “only likes Star Wars ‘cause she wants attention from boys.” He told her she was “flat,” and that “no one will want to marry her unless she gets a boob job like Pokimane.”

You sit frozen, rage boiling under your skin. And Bill — Bill — is standing in the doorway now, face pale. Silent.

You’ve never seen him silent.

Then he turns on his heel and walks straight into the kitchen.

CRASH.

You find him three seconds later — the cabinet open, a glass shattered in the sink.

Bill grips the counter with white knuckles. His jaw’s clenched so tight you think he might crack a molar. You touch his arm.

“Bill—”

“I’ll kill him,” he says, voice low and shaking. “I swear to Christ, I’ll f***ing kill that mouth-breathing, Twitch-watching, Fortnite-brained sewer spawn—”

“Bill, you can’t—”

“Don’t you dare tell me I can’t. That feral little proto-Incel said that shit to my kid? My daughter?!”

You stay quiet. Let him rage. He has all the right too and you well you are trying to hold yourself back as well.

He slams a drawer shut.

“I get bullied. I get called names. I grew up eating cafeteria pizza with a fucking paper towel because the lunch lady said I ‘chewed like a lizard.’ But she’s nine.”

He finally turns. His eyes are glassy. That scares you more than anything.

“She’s not like me,” he says. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

You put a hand on his chest.

“She is like you,” you say gently. “That’s why she’s gonna be okay.”

Bill swallows hard.

“I wanna burn his fucking Roblox password and tell him his favorite streamer’s getting sued for tax fraud.”

You blink. “…That’s oddly specific.”

“He was probably repeating something that acne-riddled YouTuber. They’re all the same. Little boys with microphones and no dads.”

Then he stops, eyes distant.

“I’m gonna go write a list.”

You raise a brow. “Of what?”

He points at you like it’s obvious. “Creative, legal revenge tactics. Obviously. I mean its not like I can burn down another building."

---

Later That Night

Bill sits beside your daughter on her bed, a stack of comics beside them.

“You’re not gonna get in trouble for what he said,” Bill mutters, flipping a page. “You’re gonna grow up and be a fucking legend. He’s gonna grow up and make apology videos for his Twitch ban.”

She smiles, just barely.

Bill ruffles her hair.

“Also, if anyone ever tells you to get a boob job before you’re old enough to rent a car, tell them your dad says they are fucking stupid with worm brain.”

“What’s worm brain?”

“Exactly.”

———

The next Monday

It starts with a phone call during lunch.

The school secretary’s voice is cloyingly calm, like she’s about to offer you a coupon for coffee, not tell you your daughter got sent to the office for violence.

Bill’s chewing on a piece of beef jerky when you hang up. “What happened? Did she finally snap and go full Carrie?”

“She punched that boy.”

Bill’s eyes go wide. Then he grins.

“No shit.”

---

At the School

You both sit on the uncomfortable little plastic chairs across from the principal, who looks like she’s never had a single thought not approved by HR.

Your daughter’s beside you — arms crossed, face red, knuckles bruised.

The principal sighs. “While we understand emotions can run high, physical violence is never acceptable behavior in our school.”

Bill leans forward, voice dripping sarcasm. “But sexual harassment and verbal abuse is fine, right? Long as you do it without leaving a bruise?”

“Mr. Dickey—”

“She was being harassed for weeks. A kid called her flat, told her to get a boob job."

“Those are serious accusations.”

“You think? Maybe if you’d handled it the first ten times she reported it, we wouldn’t be sitting here!”

The principal clears her throat. “Regardless, your daughter did throw a punch, and the student in question was injured.”

“Good,” Bill mutters.

“Excuse me?”

“Good,” he says louder, sitting back with his arms crossed. “I hope he cried. I hope he called his mommy and she took away his gaming chair. I hope the other kids laughed when he ran off with tears on his Minecraft hoodie.”

You elbow him. But not too hard.

“She defended herself,” you say firmly. “She didn’t start this.”

The principal gives you a tight, polite smile. “Be that as it may, we’re assigning her in-school suspension for the day.”

Bill scoffs. “You’re punishing a kid for not taking shit from a future failed podcaster. Real inspiring.”

You reach over and squeeze your daughter’s little hand. She looks worried — scared, even.

So you kneel in front of her, meet her eyes.

“We’re not mad at you,” you say. “You stood up for yourself. You did what we taught you.”

“Violence isn’t—” the principal starts.

“—the first option,” you interrupt. “But it is an option. Especially when adults won’t help.”

Bill pats her on the shoulder. “Next time, go for the stomach. It’s more humiliating.”

“Bill.”

“I’m just saying.”

---

In the Car

Your daughter sits in the back seat, chewing on a Capri Sun straw like a toothpick. “I’m gonna be in trouble at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, probably,” Bill says. “But he’s gonna be too scared to talk to you, so that’s a win.”

You glance at her in the rearview. “How hard did you hit him?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. He started crying. And he called me a name I didn’t understand.”

Bill grins like Christmas came early.

You sigh, but you’re smiling too.

She’s learning the world’s ugly. But she’s not going to be small in it. Not afraid.

Not with you two in her corner.

[jacksonsturniolo]

warnings — heavy heavy angst, crying, parties, nostalgia, maybe brief mentions of smut? Broken heart, not a happy ending.

a/n — god someone get the fucking tissues, low-key worked on this for a week.

"Unrequited love."

Summary — it started years ago when they were just kids, a silly little childhood crush on his best friend. clearly his feelings ran deeper than just a silly little crush, because here he is twenty-one years old and crying over a man like he's in middle school.

Christian, god he was just perfect in nicks eyes. his stupid blonde hair, those beautiful green eyes that he could just stare at for hours.

there was just one problem, well two problems. Christians not gay, and they're best friends - childhood best friends at that.

at first the crush was small. the boys were fourteen - sophomores in high school, nick had also just been coming to terms with his sexuality.

yet as the years went on the crush grew bigger, he truly loved Christian - no he was in love with Christian.

present day -

the triplets were all lounging in their living room, it had been a crazy week filimg videos, nick editing, they all just needed a breather.

"bro i am so fucking tired." Chris mumbled out running his hands down his face. "I second that." nicks tired voice murmured from where he was burried under a pile of blankets, comfortably sprawled out across the couch.

all the boys' heads turned when their front door opened, Christian made his way inside - he had been staying at the triplets for about three days by now, visiting from Boston.

Christian let out a long sigh as he sat down between Chris and matt his gaze flickering to nick before giving him a small grin. nick smiled back softly his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink before he looked away.

matt let out a small sigh before sitting up straighter. "im goin' to bed." he grumbled out before standing and shuffling down the hallway. chris let out a small hum before standing up "m' sleepin' in his bed tonight." he muttered as he made his way behind matt.

Christian leaned back against the couch letting his head tip back before looking at nick. "y' remember that one time we built a fort and slept in it for almost a whole week?" he questioned, an almost nostalgic smile appearing on both the boys faces.

nick nodded and sat up, the blankets piling around his waist. "yes oh my gosh and chris knocked it down because he was running away from matt," nick said between soft chuckles. "god we were so sad." he continued.

"yes i was so upset i called my mom crying and made her pick me up early." Christian added on letting out a small chuckle.

they fell into a comfortable silence for a while, nick scrolling on his phone and Christian typing away on his own before Christian spoke up interrupting the silence. "do you remember that maya girl i talked to a while ago?"

nicks eyes flickered up from his phone, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before he nodded. "yeah why?" he mumbled, chrstian let out a hum before grinning widely. "turns out she moved out here a while ago and she wants to meet up at some party," christian started not noticing nicks face drop. "i thought maybe it would be nice if we all went out before i left yknow?"

nick let out a hum, shrinking back into the couch before shrugging. His face showing a distant look before speaking up. “If Chris and Matt want too I’m down.” He muttered

Christian nodded and let out a small sigh before typing away on his phone again. “m’ goin’ to bed.” Nick mumbled as he shuffled towards the stairs.

Christian nodded not sparing a glance up from his phone, a big annoying smile plastered on his lips. “Night.” He muttered.

Nick let out a small sigh before making his way upstairs mumbling a quiet “goodnight.”

—

Nick knows he should be used to this by now.

Yet every single time this happens he can’t help but stay up all night wishing, just wishing he were a girl.

He always had the thought that if he were a girl Christian would want him, they’d be happy. Nick would be with the man he was in love with and Christian would want Nick as much as Nick wanted him.

Yet he’s not a girl, he never will be. He’ll never have the boy he’s been in love with since he was a kid, he’ll never have the chance to live the life he wants and it makes him absolutely sick.

He shifted again, for the millionth time. The blankets stirring around him as he wrestled with his thoughts.

He was never good enough, he never will be.

—

Nicks ears were ringing, the party was going on around him yet all he could focus on was Christian. His arm wrapped tightly around mayas shoulders as he talked to Chris and Matt, that stupid smile that nick loves and resents so much.

Nick shifts from one foot to the other, his eyes stinging. It’s like this time hurt than any other. Like he was coming to the harsh truth that it’s never gonna be them.

He always wished they’d be endgame.

before nick could get lost any further in his thoughts he watched Christian whisper something to maya making them both laugh before sneaking away from the crowd.

Nick let out a shaky exhale his fingers flexing around his cup before he slumped against the wall, letting a few tears fall from his eyes. His bottom lip wobbled as he quickly wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand.

Before nick could even let out any more tears he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he looked up to meet Matt’s concerned gaze. Before Nick could even say a word Matt was pulling him in tightly cradling him in a warm embrace.

Nick let out a shaky muffled cry into his brothers shoulder, his hands tightly gripping onto Matt’s hoodie.

Matt shushed him gently before starting to lead the two of them outside. “I know, I know it hurts bud.” Matt whispered once the two were out the door.

once the two of them made it to a quiet safe spot on the side of the house nicks sobs grew a little louder, muffled by Matt’s shoulder.

Matt ran a comforting hand through his brothers hair, his own chest aching.

Matt was the only one who knew about this, he’d seen it first hand. He noticed he always noticed. The way Nick looked at Christian, how Nick always seemed to light up when Christian was even mentioned. He knew just how bad it hurt for him.

“I need you to breathe nick.” Matt whispered, his forehead pressing into the top of nicks head rubbing his back soothingly. “In and out, go to your calm place don’t think about him.”

—

By the time Nick had calmed down they were sat, backs pressed against the house and Matt’s hand resting comfortingly on nicks knee.

“I just, I don’t get it Matt.” Nick mumbled out weakly, his vision blurring again. “Why am I like this I don’t know why I love him so much.” He continued, his bottom lip wobbling and his voice shaky.

“Because you just do nick.” Matt breathes out. “It’s hard, so hard I know it is.” Matt mumbled, his own voice wobbling. “I hate seeing you like this, I know you love him but Nick please for the sake of me you need to try to move on.”

Nicks head tipped back before biting down on his lip. “I have tried Matt I try so hard.” He cried out. Matt immediately pulled Nick into his arms rubbing his back soothingly.

“I know, shhh I know you do.”

Later that night —

Once they all got back home everyone went their separate ways, except for Nick and Christian.

nick let out a small sigh as he leaned back against his headboard, Christian was sat at the edge of nicks bed his gaze flickering across all the stuff on the wall.

“Christian.” Nick started, his voice hesitant. Christian’s gaze flickered to him shifting to fully face Nick. “Yeah?” He muttered out, tilting his head and giving Nick a dopey grin.

Nick smiled before looking down at his lap. “You know the other day when you brought up the fort incident?” Nick said quietly his eyes meeting Christian’s as the blonde boy nodded. “Well I just uhm, I want to tell you something that I’ve wanted to for a long time.” Nick muttered.

Christian let out a curious hum, sitting up a little straighter and muttering a quiet “yeah?”

“The night we made that fort, I think it was the first time I really.” Nick cut himself off letting out a shaky exhale before hesitantly continuing. “I think it’s the first time I realized I— it’s the first time I realized that I love you.”

Christian let out a small laugh before tilting his head. “Well I love you too Nick.” Christian said softly. “No.” Nick muttered, his eyes meeting Christian’s green ones. “I’m..I’m in love with you.”

Christian stopped laughing, his eyebrows furrowing before looking down at his lap. “Like, you like me?” Christian muttered in a confused tone.

Nick nodded slowly, his eyes flickering up to see Christian who was already standing up.

“Nick you know I’m not…gay right?” Nick nodded quickly and stood up as-well. “Ofcourse I know — I’ve always known I just, I wanted to get that off my chest.” Nick breathed out, his eyes wide and lip wobbly.

Christians expression hardened before he sat down again, covering his hands with his face. “Well maybe you shouldn’t have.” He muttered out.

Nicks face fell, his eyebrows furrowing and hands balling up at his sides. “Why shouldn’t I have?” Nick whispered out.

Christian let out a chuckle, an annoyed tight one. “Because it’s just, why would you ever admit that?” Christian snapped causing Nick to flinch at his tone.

“I just, I thought if I got it off my chest—“ Nick started before being cut off by Christian. “Just save it Nick, you’re crazy and this whole thing is fucked up.”

Nick went to speak again but Christian stood. “You know I don’t even know how I can look at you anymore.” Christian continued, his voice raising.

Nicks expression hardened before he snapped. “You know I don’t know how I ever even fucking loved you.”

“Well it seems like you can’t help that.” Christian practically yelled out.

Before nick or Christian could get out another word nicks bedroom door opened, Chris and Matt standing in the door frame.

“The fucks goin’ on?” Chris questioned, rubbing his eyes.

“Nothing.” Nick snapped out before Christian shoved past Chris and Matt leaving the triplets in nicks room.

“The fuck did you do?” Chris snapped out towards Nick before quickly following after Christian.

Matt’s concerned gaze fell onto Nick, before Nick could even get out another word Matt was pulling him into his embrace.

There was a beat of silence the only sounds coming from nicks cries muffled by Matt’s shoulder and some noises coming from downstairs before Nick spoke up.

“He’ll never love me back.”

taglist— @grace-sturnz @kier-with-a-k @sturnsblogs @urloveanaa @bernardsbendystraws @princesspinkkk23 @urfavvbilliemunch @emely9274 @nessabarrettswhore @oopsiedaisydeer @thenickgirl @nickssidewitch @queenbreana @chriss-slut @rriverscuomo @lezleeferguson-120 @ev1ldeadboy @milosturns @etherealsturns

[morgana-larkin]

Here's the next chapter of Mine! Happy Pride Month to everyone! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Summary: Amelia starts making friends

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Mine - Part 22

Warnings: Smut, Swearing

Words: 4.6K

“So Amelia is only here for the week and then 2 days a week after that?” The daycare person asks and Melissa nods. 

“She’s going into pre-k but it only starts next week and my wife is already looking after newborn twins and don’t want to add to that.” Melissa explains and they nod. “Also for Amelia, she’s been starting to show signs of ADHD, so I made a list of things that could help her.” Melissa tells them and hands over the paper.

“Alright, thank you.” They tell her and Melissa bends down and hugs Amelia. 

“I love you, Tesoro. I’ll pick you and your siblings up when I’m done with work.” Melissa tells her and Amelia nods.

“I love you too, Mamma.” Amelia tells her before she runs off and talks to her friends.

Melissa walks into the breakroom and sees everyone already there. She sits down next to Barb and sips her coffee from her mug before getting her phone out before she starts a conversation with Barb.

“So Caty was diagnosed with autism and Amelia with ADHD?” Barb asks and Melissa nods. 

“We both knew there was something and we were right.” 

“Well she’s your daughter, of course you’d know if something was different.” Barb says and Melissa nods.

3 hours later they’re all coming out of the gym with a list of things they have to teach this year. Melissa looks at the trio talking excitedly about their students this year and Melissa is looking at the second grade curriculum.

“So how is Y/n doing?” Barb asks.

“She’s good. A lot more rested when we started using the breast pump and I’m feeding them before bed and in the morning. Amelia was also happy when she was able to catch up with her after not seeing her for a little bit.” 

“That’s good, I remember her being upset about not being able to see Y/n.” Barb says and Melissa nods. 

At lunch, Melissa is showing off all the photos she took over the summer with the trio and Barb. Janine and Jacob keep making comments on every photo while Gregory just nods, and Barb keeps saying “aw” or “oh”. When she’s near the end of her photos she sees you’re FaceTime-ing her and she accepts it.

“Hey Amore.” She says and you see everyone there looking at you. “Alright photo show is over, go back to your seats.” Melissa says and they all obey. “I was just showing them all the photos, what’s up?” She asks and sees you holding one of the twins.

“Bella doesn't want to sleep, I was wondering if you could sing that lullaby they like.” You say and she smiles before she grabs her lunch and walks to her classroom. 

When she gets to her classroom she starts singing La Siminzina and by the end of it, Bella is fast asleep. Melissa smiles at seeing her daughter asleep in your arms and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. I’ve fed her twice and hasn’t slept since you left.” You tell her. “I think she misses you.” 

“I know she caused you to get less sleep but I actually find it cute that she misses me.” Melissa says.

“How is it that I carry them, push them out and breastfeed them and yet over half of them end up preferring you?” 

“Cause I’m extremely lucky.” Melissa says. “Also technically these 2 you didn’t push out.” She adds and you glare at her. 

“Well I also stay home to take care of them.” You say.

“They do love you but I guess they must feel comfortable with me because I talked to them everyday that you were pregnant.” Melissa tells you.

“I know, and you helped a lot during all the pregnancies.” You say as you put Bella in her crib. “So how was it this morning?” You ask her.

“I met the substitute teacher that’s filling in for you until the Christmas break.” She says.

“Oh ya? What are they like?” You ask.

“He sat beside me and kept flirting with me.” She tells you, annoyance in her tone and you start laughing.

“I feel bad for him. He wants you and can’t have you.” You say and Melissa smiles. “I’m not surprised that you got flirted with. You’re perfect.” You say and she blushes.

About 2 hours later, Melissa was making her bulletin board when your substitute teacher came over.

“Need any help?” He asks her and she shakes her head as she holds the tape in her mouth. She sticks the paper on and then takes the tape roll out of her mouth. 

“I’m good, I’ve done this many times.” She tells him.

“It does look like you have experience, better than mine.” He says and she looks over at the one that he did. 

“Yours is pretty good.” She says and then she goes back in her classroom and he follows her. 

“So I was told that my students were in your class last year and was wondering if you got any tips for me about them?” He asks her and she looks up at him and he hands her the list. Melissa then goes to explain a few tips and tricks she learned last year and then gives the list back to him. “I was wondering, since we’ll be working close to each other, if maybe you wanted to hang out after work today?” He asks and she sighs as she realises he hasn’t figured out she’s not interested or married.

“I can’t as I have to go home to my wife and 5 kids.” She says and she sees him look down and sees her wedding ring. “The teacher you’re filling in for is my wife as she had twin girls over the summer.” She explains and she watches as he turns to embarrassment real quick.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He says and then almost runs out.

“Should have done that sooner.” She says to herself and turns to her whiteboard.

At the end of the day, she puts her purse in the van when the sub comes up to her and she sighs again.

“Just wanted to say I’m sorry again and I hope we’ll be able to work together over the next 4 months.” He tells her. 

“Just don’t flirt with me again as only my wife can do that without getting a bat to the head.” She says and he nods before he walks off. 

Melissa drives to the daycare and sees Amelia talking with another 4 year old girl. Melissa walks up to her and taps her on the shoulder. 

“Hi Tesoro.” Melissa says and Amelia nods.

“Hi Mamma! This is Paige.” Amelia tells her.

“Hi Paige. I’m Melissa, one of Amelia’s moms.” She introduces herself. 

“Paige also has 2 moms.” Amelia tells her and Melissa smiles just as one of Paige’s moms comes up to her. 

“This is one of my mommy’s. Mommy this is Amelia” Paige says and Melissa shakes her hand. 

“I’m Melissa.” 

“Beverly.” Beverly says. “I guess our daughters became friends. Maybe we can have Amelia over some time or Paige over at your house so they can hang out.” Beverly suggests.

“Ya, that sounds great. I’ll have to ask my wife though. She’s at home with 2 newborns right now.” Melissa tells her and Beverly nods. “Come on Amelia, we have to pick up your other siblings and get home.” 

“Alright. Bye Paige!” She exclaims and Paige waves at her. 

Melissa, Amelia and the twins get home and you’re nowhere to be found. Melissa then hears footsteps upstairs and sees you at the railing. 

“Hey Amore.” She tells you and you come downstairs. 

“Mommy, guess what?” Amelia says as the twins immediately go to their toys. 

“What?” You ask her.

“I made a friend, her name is Paige.” Amelia tells you and you smile.

“Oh, that’s great!” You say. 

“Ya, I met one of her mom’s today and she suggested a play date.” Melissa tells you.

“Oh, she has two moms as well?” You ask and Amelia nods.

“We were drawing our families today and saw her drawing 2 moms.” Amelia explains.

“Well if you want then we can arrange a playdate with her.” You tell her and Amelia nods with a smile.

At night, you lay between her legs and have your head on her chest and Melissa is giving you a shoulder rub. When she’s done, she gives your arms a couple of gentle rubs and places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Rest up.” She says softly and you nod.

“I love you.” You say tiredly and she wraps her arms around you.

“I love you too, Amore.” She tells you.

On Friday afternoon, Melissa picks up her kids and confirms the play date for tomorrow with Amelia and Paige. Paige is coming over as Melissa doesn’t want to leave you alone with 4 kids to look after. Beverly confirmed that they’ll be there at noon tomorrow. 

“Excited about tomorrow, Tesoro?” Melissa asks as you all sit down at the dinner table. 

“Very excited!” Amelia exclaims before she takes a bite of dinner. “Paige and I have been playing together all week at daycare.” 

“Ya? What have you two been playing?” Melissa asks her, smiling at her daughter’s excitement. Amelia then talks all about her week with Paige with a big smile. 

In the evening, Melissa is humming to Bella as you feed Mia in the rocking chair. Melissa watches as you put Mia back in her crib and then she puts Bella back in her crib. 

“Goodnight my little loves.” Melissa says to both of them and then you head back to your room. 

When you get to the bedroom then you get a sudden urge to fuck Melissa. You grab her shirt and she yelps in surprise and then moans when you kiss her. Melissa attempts to take control but then you push her onto the bed and get on top of her. Melissa takes the hint and lets you touch her all over.

“Oh Y/n.” She moans out before you take her shirt off. You then wrap your mouth around a nipple and she arches her back and her clit rubs your thigh. “Oh my god.” She says and then you take her pj shorts off. “What are you planning to do?” She asks and you go to the nightstand with a smile. 

“Something I haven’t done to you in awhile.” You tell her and take the dildo out. She widens her eyes as you get on top of her. “Now spread your legs.” You command her and she obeys. You then circle her clit as you put lube on the dildo. You then go on your knees and get her to go on her knees. You grab her hips and then you insert the dildo inside of her. She gasps out and then you do a hard thrust and enter her fully. 

“Fuck.” She breathes out and you smile. You then start pumping inside her and she falls forward on her forearms. 

“Think you can take it?” You ask her and she whimpers. You then start going faster, pounding into her and she lets out a loud gasp. You take her shorts and put them in her mouth to silence her. You then have to start going harder and you can tell she’s close to an orgasm. You then both hear a knock on the door and you both look at it. 

“Mamma? Mommy?” You hear Amelia ask and Melissa takes the shorts out of her mouth. You keep going but you slow down. 

“What is it, Tesoro?” Melissa asks breathlessly. 

“I woke up from a weird noise.” Amelia says and Melissa has to cover her mouth to prevent a gasp. 

“It was just me and mommy, go back to bed, Tesoro.” Melissa says.

“Alright, Mamma.” Amelia tells her. 

You then start going faster and Melissa voluntarily puts her shorts back in her mouth. You keep pounding into her and hear her breathing gets deeper and deeper the closer she gets to an orgasm. 

“Are you close, my love?” You ask her and she nods. She then puts her head down and you see her clench her fists. She lets out a muffled gasp as she comes. You then keep going for a few more seconds until you come. You stop moving and lean on her as you catch her breath and she seems to be catching her breath as well and takes out the shorts.

“So what spurred this on? Not that I mind getting fucked really good by my wife.” She asks as you pull out of her and she lays down on her back. You take the dildo off and throw it on the ground and lay down beside her. 

“Just something that hit me and so I did it.” You tell her and she smiles. She then lets out a cough and looks at her nightstand to see an empty cup and she sighs.

“I need to drink but I don’t think I can move.” She complains and you get an idea.

“You know, my body does produce milk and I’m right here.” You tell her and she looks at you. “And it’s not like you haven’t done it before so you know what it’s like.” You add.

“Again, it was an accident as I forgot.” She says. “And also if I sucked on your nipple, then I’d just want to fuck you.” 

“Well I would never say no to that.” You tell her and she looks at you before she smiles. 

She then straddles your hips, still has to keep off your stomach as it’s still shrinking. She takes your pj top off of you and she looks at your body for a second. She then lowers herself to your nipples and puts one in her mouth. She glances at you before she does anything and you nod, confirming your consent. She then starts sucking, milk coming out of you and you moan out as she flicks her tongue, the way you like it best. 

She trails her hand down and puts it under your pj shorts and feels your entrance. She finds that you’re still wet from when you fucked her so she slips a finger in your entrance. Melissa then pulls away from your nipple and goes to the other one, not wanting to leave you lopsided. She puts the nipple in her mouth and starts sucking milk out of it. She looks up at your face and sees you enjoy it, how your eyes are squeezed shut and mouth open and she can’t get enough of the sight. At the moment she’s basically getting dinner and a show. You put your hands in her hair and squeeze it tight, knowing she doesn’t mind it. 

“Oh, I love you.” You say and she lets go of your nipple and kisses you. You taste some of the breast milk on her lips and she was right, it’s not bad. 

“I love you too, Amore.” She says before going back to kiss you. She feels you clench around her fingers and she goes harder and faster. You bite down on her lip to stop a moan from slipping out as you come.

The next day you’re feeding the twins when you hear the doorbell ring. When you’re finished you put them in their crib and then go downstairs. You see Amelia and Paige running downstairs and Melissa talking to two adults. 

“Amore, this is Beverly and Heather.” Melissa says and you go up to them. 

“Hi.” You tell them and shake hands with them. “I’m Y/n.” 

“I’m happy our daughter made friends with someone who also has 2 moms.” Beverly says. 

“Mommy.” You hear and see Caterina running up to you. You pick her up and she lays her head on your chest.

“This is Caterina.” You tell them and they smile. “Our son over there is Nico, and we have another pair of twins upstairs, newborns, named Bella and Mia.” 

“How do you manage to take care of 5 kids?” Heather asks you.

“We do it together, as a team.” Melissa says with a smile and wraps her arm around your waist. 

“Mommy!” Amelia says and you turn around. “This is Paige.” Amelia introduces to you and you bend down.

“Hi Paige, I’m Y/n, Amelia’s other mom.” You tell her. 

“Is it true that Amelia is leaving daycare?” Paige asks you.

“It is, she’s going to start pre-k on Monday but it’s just for 3 days a week.” You tell Paige and Melissa and Beverly nod.

“Let me show you my room.” Amelia says and Melissa opens the baby gates for them and follows after them. You go over to the couch and put Caty down and she stands up and peeks over the back of the couch. 

“Here, sweetheart.” You tell her and give her your phone and put on her favourite show.

Upstairs, Melissa is leaning on the doorway of Amelia’s room, with her arms crossed and smiling at her daughter and Paige.

“And this is the toy Mamma got me when Cat and Nico were born.” Amelia says as she shows Paige her toys. 

Both of Paige’s parents are talking to you downstairs as you watch Nico and Caty. Melissa is watching Amelia and Paige playing in her room. Melissa switched to sitting on the floor, leaning on the door and watching the playdate with a smile. 

A few hours later, Paige and her parents had to go and you watch as Amelia hugs Paige goodbye. You’re feeding Mia when you say goodbye and have a blanket covering yourself. 

A couple hours later Melissa and Amelia were in the kitchen when you hear the doorbell ring. You get up and open it to see that the kids fairy and LED lights have arrived and you smile as you pick it up. 

After dinner, you’re feeding Bella as you watch Melissa hang up the LED lights. You watch as she’s on a stool and sticking it to the wall near the ceiling. When she’s done she gets off the stool and looks at her work and smiles. 

“What do you think?” She asks and then you turn it on. 

“I like it.” You tell her. “We should see what Caty thinks of it.” You say and she nods before she goes downstairs. A few minutes later you’re putting Bella in her crib when you hear footsteps come up. You go out of the room and follow them into Caty’s room. 

“Alright Caty, so this light should be easier on your eyes and we want to know what you think.” Melissa tells Caty and Caty nods. 

Melissa then goes and turns on the light and Caty gasps in awe. You then watch as Caty chooses the colour that she wants for the room. Caty ends up choosing the light blue and you smile as Caty smiles at the light while holding Teddy. You then turn towards Amelia and Nico.

“So do you guys want lights like this as well?” You ask them and they nod. Melissa then goes and puts the lights up in Nico’s room and then in Amelia’s.

Melissa then flops down on your bed, tired from putting up all those lights and you smile. You then get on the bed, on your side, hold your head in one hand and look at her with a smile.

“What?” She asks and you thread your fingers through her hair with your free hand.

2 days later Melissa is carrying Amelia’s pink school bag that you both got her as she walks in to where she’ll be starting pre-K. Melissa then sees the classroom number that she was told to go to and she walks in with Amelia holding her hand. 

“Hello, and what’s your name?” A woman asks Amelia.

“I’m Amelia.” She says and the woman looks at her list.

“Amelia…Schemmenti. Yes I have you right here. Welcome to pre-k.” She tells her and Amelia looks around. Melissa then bends down and gently puts the school bag on Amelia.

“Now you have your lunch and your favourite toy in there.” Melissa tells her and Amelia nods. “If there’s any issues and you want to leave, then tell one of the adults. They’ll contact mommy and she’ll come and pick you up.” Melissa explains and Amelia nods.

“Ok Mamma.” Amelia says and then Melissa hugs her.

“I love you, Tesoro.” She says and Amelia hugs her back.

“I love you too, Mamma.” Amelia tells her.

“Now I’ll be picking you up first after work and then your other 2 siblings.” Melissa says and Amelia nods. “Have a good first day.” 

“Bye Mamma.” Amelia tells her and then Melissa waves to her and leaves.

A couple hours later Melissa is watching all her new students find their seats and she checks her phone. She sees she got a message from you half an hour ago and opens it up.

You: no calls from your little mini me or the t-twins. The other 2 are having fun seeing how much they can cry until I scream

Melissa looks at it and smiles, she always loves your updates. 

Melissa: T-twins?

You: Toddler twins

Melissa: Keep me updated and call your parents if you need a break from our daughters

She sends the message and then she looks up at her little eagles and smiles before she takes attendance. 

At the end of the day Melissa goes to pick Amelia up and sees she’s talking to a few other girls and she smiles. The teacher sees Melissa and goes up to her.

“Amelia is your daughter right?” She asks and Melissa nods.

“Is that a good thing? Did something happen?” Melissa asks her.

“Nothing happened. Amelia is actually a very smart girl and quite social. Does she have any siblings?” The teacher asks.

“Ya, 4 siblings. 2 of them are newborns though and Amelia is the oldest.” 

“Well that explains how she’s so social with the other kids. And are you teaching her stuff at home?” 

“Only what she asks us to learn. My wife and I aren’t used to having kids who want to learn before they have to. My wife and I are both elementary school teachers.” Melissa tells her.

“Well Amelia is lucky to have you both as parents.” She says and then goes to talk to other parents. Melissa goes up to Amelia and bends down.

“Hey Tesoro.” Melissa says and Amelia turns around and hugs Melissa.

“Mamma! Wait, is it the end of the day already?” She asks and Melissa nods.

“I take it you had fun?” Melissa asks and Amelia nods enthusiastically.

“This is Olivia and Evelyn.” Amelia says and Melissa smiles.

“Well it is very nice to meet you both. We gotta go pick up your siblings from daycare.” Melissa tells her and Amelia nods.

“Come look at what I get. They call it a cubby.” Amelia tells Melissa as she grabs Melissa’s hand and drags her over. “They come with 2 hooks so I can put my backpack on one and on the other one I can put my sweater or jacket when it gets colder.” Amelia says and then she grabs her bag.

“That is very cool. When we get home then you can tell me and mommy all about your day.” Melissa says and Amelia nods.

All of you were eating at the dinner table a couple hours later. You just fed the baby twins and the toddler twins are happily eating what Melissa and Amelia made. You and Melissa are listening as well as trying to keep up with Amelia as she’s talking a mile a minute.

“And then the teacher picked me to name all the colours and I was able to do that and she gave me a sticker! Then after that we got free time and I played with this dollhouse with Olivia and Evelyn. The dollhouse is fun to play with but it’s so much more fun when you’re playing with other people.” Amelia says and you both smile at her.

“Sounds like you had an amazing first day.” You tell her and she nods. “So you’ll love going there every Monday, Wednesday and Friday then.” You add.

“I can’t wait for Wednesday! When is Wednesday again?” She asks.

“It’s in 2 days Tesoro.” Melissa tells her.

After dinner you got the 3 toddlers to watch a movie while you sat with Melissa at the dinner table as she goes over her lesson plan. 

“So how was meeting your newest little eagles today?” You ask her and she smiles at you. 

“They were just bursting with excitement today.” She tells you. “Your students told me that they can’t wait until you come back.” She adds and you smile.

“And has that sub flirted with you again?” You ask her and she shakes her head. 

“Not since I told him that I have a wife and 5 kids.”

“I’m still confused as to why you didn’t tell him sooner.”

“He’s a sub, he didn’t need to know my business.” She tells you. “I thought me showing no interest would have made him catch on and stop, but apparently not.” 

“You’re too hot for that. Obviously he would have kept trying.” You say and she chuckles. “I think putting Amelia in pre-k was a really good decision.”

“Ya, she loves it.” Melissa agrees and you nod.

At night you put your 3 toddlers to bed while Melissa feeds the babies. When you get back to the bedroom, Melissa walks in and falls down on the bed.

“Tired?” You ask with a smile and she nods.

“Like I said earlier, students were excited today.” She tells you and you get on the bed and crawl over to her. “Can I help you?” She asks as you’re looking down at her with a smile.

“Not really.” You say as you lay next to her and she smiles at you.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks and you look at her and nod. “Why are you with me?” She then asks and you look at her confused. “I’m much older than you, I have anger issues and I wasn’t nice to you when you started.” She says and you turn on your side to look at her, using your arms as a pillow.

“You aren’t really nice to anyone when they start.” You say and she quirks an eyebrow at you and you smile before grabbing her closest hand. “I’m gonna say exactly what you told me when I once asked the same question 5 years ago.” You tell her and she looks into your eyes. “I’m with you because it was impossible to stay away from you.” You tell her and she starts playing with the wedding ring on your finger. “Why are you asking?” You then ask and she looks up at you.

“I don’t know, I’ve kinda been thinking about it since my birthday.” She says softly. “Thinking about how lucky I got but then it turned into thinking about why are you with me.” She admits. You then lift your head and move her arm to be under your head before resting your head on her arm. After, you shuffle closer to her and she wraps her arm around you. 

“We fell in love, it’s as simple as that.” You tell her before kissing her and she smiles. 

“I see you’re quoting me.” She says. 

“What you said is true and you can’t say no to yourself.” 

“I love you.” She says and cups your cheek.

“I love you too.” You tell her and then kiss her.

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[avocado-writing]

chapter 1: Times of Turmoil

a/n: a longer copia x reader fic I’m working on. reader is a revenant who works in the archives, a forgotten miracle raised by papa nihil. This fic is inspired by @writingjourney and the fic “I Knew Nothing But Shadows” (a truly remarkable story which has had me squealing at my phone) and the beautiful art of @wendi-g0 whose resurrected sibling of sin OC gave me the idea for the reader character! Please go and give them both some love! this fic is also on ao3.

words: 4.4k

rating: T for now, eventually E. this chapter contains graphic violence.

At night, when the world is quiet and still, you can still feel the moment of your death.

It plays before your tired eyes when sleep slips your grasp, a miserable reminder of your grisly fate. It had been a dark evening as you made your way back from the shops. When Sister Imperator had appeared in your dorm and asked for a volunteer, your hand was the first in the air despite not even knowing what the task was. You were young, new to the church, eager to please. Turns out someone needed to go into town to purchase some groceries for the siblings who ran the kitchen, a mistimed delivery meant they were short on ingredients for the next morning’s breakfast. Not exactly what you’d hoped - you’d been imagining yourself stepping up to a dark altar with a candle and a sexy habit - but still, you grabbed your coat and went.

You’d noticed someone was following you on the way back from the 24-hour supermarket. A feeling of fear run up your spine, a deer noticing that it’s been stalked by a pack of wolves. Looking over your shoulder you’d seen a group of men, caps slung low on their heads, slowly closing the gap between you. You’d tried to run when you’d realised you were the subject of their hunt but it was too little, too late. 

The paper bag fell from your hands, groceries tumbling to the sidewalk in the quiet of the evening as they’d dragged you into an alleyway, kicking and screaming. At first you tried to fight them off, flailing and striking out, crying out for help… but you’d gone dead still when one of them revealed the knife. Silver, hungry, glinting in the dim orange streetlight.

“Devil-worshipping scum,” the leader had said, “this world is better off without you. Jesus, guide my hand.”

It sank into your belly as you screamed in fear, in pain, in the injustice of it all. You hadn’t done anything. Your only crime was being from that strange monastery on the hill. Warm crimson flowed across your body as you desperately fought against your attackers but there was no point. It went into your heart next, and you felt yourself fading... Then, finally, the tip caught one side of your neck, digging into your carotid artery and carving along the soft meat of your throat. You’d choked as blood bubbled up, your hands raising in a useless attempt to clamp the wound shut, fingers scrabbling at wrought flesh. Your last memory was their smiling, victorious, vicious faces down at you as your little life had been snuffed out.

And then nothing. Not that you can remember, anyway. Just a feeling of calmness, of rest.

Of Him bringing you home.

You’d been Papa Nihil’s final miracle. Proof that he still had power, the desperate act of an old man who knew that the time of his real importance was coming to an end. When he’d heard about your unfortunate demise it was just too tempting for him to ignore. So he’d gathered the siblings in the sanctuary and, in the light of a thousand black candles, asked that the Dark One deliver you back to your body. 

Apparently there had been a flash of lightning and every single one of those thousand little dancing flames went out at the same time, and you’d sat bolt upright from the altar. The congregation cheered so loud it was heard throughout the town. They’d danced and cheered, lifting you high into the air on their shoulders as the shudder of existence entered you again.

And so came the second part of your life.

You were celebrated for a while, true proof that the power of a Papa was His will done on earth. Miracolo, they called you. Miracle. The centre of every festival; in the front row of every Black Mass; asked for blessings by your fellow siblings. Not a figurehead but a mascot, for certain, and Nihil paraded you around every chance he got, like a prize pet that had a pedigree. 

The issue was that the longer and closer they looked the clearer it became that you’d come back… wrong.

When they touched you to receive a blessing, they recoiled. Your skin was cold, too cold to be a creature of thrumming blood. Your eyes were too sunken, too haunted, and they blinked far too little - meaning looking at you was a challenge. Your chest only rose and fell with a breath every once a minute, if that.

You were alive, yes, but you were certainly not human. And then there was the matter of that scar cut across your neck. Red raw and slick, always looking like it was weeping no matter how the doctors of the ministry tried to dress it. A constant reminder that Papa Nihil had done his best with you but that was not good enough to imitate real life.

So everyone just began to avoid you. You were once the centre of celebrations, but people acknowledged you less and less at each gathering, and eventually they totally forgot about you altogether. You seat in the front pew was no longer reserved on Sunday so you just slipped into the back instead, with the older Siblings who barely seemed to register you were amongst them at all. And those who did? Well, they would avert their eyes when they saw you coming, cross the corridor so as to get away from you. 

Maybe it should have hurt, but how could you blame them? You were off-putting. You wouldn’t want to look at you either, and you hardly did - pointedly avoiding every mirror hung in the monastery, eventually memorising the way around your home that kept you clear of every reflective surface. Each time you caught sight of yourself it was another nail in the coffin of how unhuman you were.

Sister Imperator sat you down one day and, with the only time you had genuinely heard remorse in her voice, suggested that you might want to go and take the position down in the ministry’s archives. The last archivist had just passed into His arms, so the post was available. And perfect for someone nobody wants to be around, was the unspoken addition to that.

So you did. You took your things from your shared dorm room - trying to ignore the relief on the faces of your roommates - and hid in the basement with the books and the artefacts. 

Alone.

Papa’s little forgotten miracle. 

The hum of your coffee machine fills the air with noise and the smell of freshly ground beans. For not the first time, you marvel at the fact you were able to recover it before it went into the trash. It’s a nice one, expensive! And, yeah, it may not work one hundred percent of the time, but that doesn’t mean it’s broken. It’s just… quirky.

On cue, the machine screeches. The first time it did that it almost gave you a heart attack. Nowadays, you know you just have to slam it really, really hard with the meat of your palm a couple of times to get the nozzles to behave. Thump, thump, and finally an espresso begins to drip into the little glass you have ready.

Here goes another day.

You have a television down here, and though it only picks up a couple of channels, you like to have it on to fill your morning with some noise. The breakfast show presenter chats inanely to her boring guest - which you immediately tune out - and you make a mental list of everything that you need to get done today.

You’ve got to finish digitising those documents that were sent down to you last week. Every day you’ve been getting messages from Secondo asking when they will be done and you can tell he’s getting less and less patient. The words never come directly from his mouth, of course, he always sends a Sibling down with a note and a pained expression on their face. He’d never deign to come down here himself. 

“Why does he even need them?” you ask yourself. “I’m sure he doesn't know how to use a computer.”

In your lack of company over the years, you’ve found the most willing conversationalist to be yourself, so often make little remarks out loud. Also it helps to make sure that you talk as often as you can. When the knife hit your throat it did something to your vocal chords, so if you don’t keep them warm your voice can become strange and scratchy from misuse. It’s already daunting enough for the poor Siblings to come down and talk to the odd archivist, they don’t need you croaking at them like some monster from a 50s B-movie.

You down your coffee, letting its liquid heat run down your oesophagus and settle comfortably in your stomach. It’s the only way you feel warm any more. Even with the thick jumpers you wear over your habit your skin is always cold and clammy. Sometimes your fingers will brush someone else’s when you’re handing over a pile of books from the archive, and you can see them try to repress a shudder at the feeling.

It isn’t a nice way to be reacted to. Just sort of reminds you why they shoved you down here.

The little espresso cup is washed up immediately and put back next to its pair. You wonder why you have two of them when only one of them ever gets used. Decoration purposes, you suppose. It would just look sad if you only had one of everything, and Satan knows it’s sad enough down here as it is.

You head into the shower, ignoring the discoloured patch of wall where the mirror used to hang, and enjoy your usual luke-warm low-pressure morning wash. One of the good things about living down here, at least, is you no longer have to share amenities with other Siblings. It might be old and out of date but at least it is all yours. You wonder if they had this installed for the previous archivist, or the archivist before her, or before them. You haven’t found any architectural plans for the monastery that reveal that particular secret yet. It doesn’t really matter anyway. All you know is that you have your ensuite, your own small kitchen - with an oven! - and a comfortable enough cot to sleep on every night. There are a few pieces hanging on your walls, copies of old prints you found to be interesting, particularly beautifully penned bits of old prayer. 

One day it will belong to someone else, but for now, it is yours. Your own little sanctum in this cold world.

You dry and dress and head down the corridor to the archives. There are only three keys to this room, and one of them hangs around your neck, which makes you feel particularly important. One hangs in Sister Imperator’s office, and the final one…

Well, it belongs to whoever is Papa at the time, so you suppose Copia must have it.

Not that he’d come down here, of course. No. He is far too busy doing Papa things, whatever that involves. He can’t waste his time in the bowels of the monastery.

It is a shame, though. He’s always seemed… kind. You still go to Black Mass every Sunday because it is expected of you, but ever since Copia succeeded Terzo, you’ve actually been enjoying them a lot more. He seems to really care about what he preaches. His mismatched eyes are so full of life as he reads from his carefully-prepared sermons, and you find yourself smiling when he talks about how to find joy when worshipping in His name. It’s come to be the part of your week you find yourself looking forward to the most. Maybe it’s because of Copia, or maybe it’s because you get a couple of hours where you don’t have to deal with people sending you shitty emails just to follow up, as if you have a whole damned crew in the archive and not just you on your lonesome, running between the shelves like fucking Pac-Man.

You’re grinding your teeth.

“Don’t do that. It’s bad for you,” you say to yourself, sliding the brass key in the lock and opening the archives for the day.

This place is immense. People don’t perhaps realise how vast the archives are, but they take up most of the basement floor under the monastery. It is sort of thrilling to be in charge of something so large but it also means it’s exhausting to try and find anything. Up until you came along the previous archivist had been organising everything by paper. There are dozens of tomes worth of information, each with hundreds of pages about where to find each specific object down here. You’re slowly turning everything digital but it’s hard work. Your computer is worse than your coffee machine sometimes, screeching every time you turn it on and freezing for minutes at a time if you deign to switch a tab too quickly. Still, you work with what you have, because they haven’t okayed you getting a new one yet.

You sit down heavily at your desk and drag over the pile you’re working on for Secondo, start the fight to turn on your monitor, and get ready for another day of busy-work. For a moment you pause, your lungs seizing as you fall into a coughing fit, one which has your eyes watering and clutching for the box of tissues you keep on-hand. Annoying, they seem to be getting worse lately. You’d go see the Ministry doctors if you thought they could do anything to help, but any of your ailments are usually chalked up to “well you’re kinda dead”. You just sort of just ignore things until they go away, and today is no different. 

The first couple of hours pass without incident. Your keyboard is old and loud, so the only sound echoing around the archive is the heavy clack clack clack of your typing. You’re considering going to make yourself another coffee when you hear a scratching noise coming from some shelves behind you. 

You spin round. If your heart could beat more than a couple of times a minute, it would be racing. Eyes racing left and right you scan the scene. Your mind slingshots itself to the worst possibilities: someone’s broken in. They’re coming to finish the job. Down here, nobody will hear you scream, and this time they won’t bother about bringing you back. Maybe nobody will even find your corpse, not immediately, you’ll just be lost in the archives, bloody and broken…

“Stop catastrophizing,” you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing yourself to calm down. Realistically, nobody has walked through that door all morning, and it’s the only way in here. Well, there is a back door too, but it’s bolted with crates of old paintings stacked up in front of it - a fire hazard for sure, but definitely not going to open without you hearing it.

Maybe it’s one of the Ghouls. Sometimes they find their way down here and in order to mess with your stuff; you’re pretty sure it’s some kind of game to them. You chased one of them out of here less than a fortnight ago, broom in your hands, swatting at them as they run around with some sort of chalice in their hands. It had taken you all afternoon to return it to its place on the designated shelf and you do not want a repeat of the situation.

You grab the broom (you have a vacuum to deal with the dust, it truly is just for removing unwanted guests) and head into the labyrinth of shelves.

“Dewdrop, I swear on His name, if I find you down here again—!” you shout, thwacking the bristles against a stack of crates as if trying to shoo a raccoon. The noise stops for a moment before picking back up. You frown. It’s coming from a box you use for old papers, things you no longer need to archive but haven’t got round to throwing away yet - and if a Ghoul can fit in a two-foot box you’ll eat your sweater.

You lean your make-do weapon against a shelf and carefully grab the lid of the box, lifting it and peering down into its contents. You’re met with a tiny little face. Pink twitching nose, huge eyes, grey fur. Small claws that were being used to rip your out of date documents into shreds. The rat squeaks and grabs onto the edge of the box, lifting itself up to inspect you.

“Oh!” you gasp, enchanted. This isn’t a wild rat, the colouring is all off - besides, it looks too well taken care of. It’s probably a pet! That should mean that it’s friendly. You pick up the whole box and return to your desk, gently setting your guest down as you search for one of the little seed-and-nut mixes you keep in your drawer for stamina when you hit that mid-afternoon sugar crash. It sniffs the air curiously as you open the bag and greedily snatches the proffered peanut. 

“You’re a hungry little guy, huh? Probably didn’t find much to eat down here…” you hum, scratching the top of his head - because he is obviously a boy - with the tip of your finger. He begins to boggle in delight and you have to hold back a squeak of joy. This rat is Cute with a capital C.

For a moment, visions dance across your brain: getting a cage in your room next door; filling it with tunnels and hammocks and pipes, all things for him to explore; getting him a mischief to hang out with; carrying them to work every day in the hood of your favourite pull-over…

Maybe not being so alone all the time. Maybe finally having someone to talk to, even if it is a pet. Or five.

You’re getting ahead of yourself, and your sense of reality pumps the brakes hard on this imagined scenario. If he’s a pet, realistically, he belongs to someone in the Ministry, and you can’t just keep him for yourself. That would be kidnap. And, as much as one is encouraged to sin here, you think it might be a step too far even for the Dark One. With a sigh you wiggle the mouse on your computer, wait for it to boot up, and click on your email app.

From: archivist@theministry.com

To: all

Subject: lost pet

Good morning everyone,

A pet rat has made his way into the archives. If he is yours please come and collect him.

Best wishes,

The archivist

With a sigh you force yourself to click the ‘send’ button. You wonder how many Ministry members will get a jumpscare when they see it pop up in their inbox, forced to remember once again that you actually exist down here.

“If nobody comes to collect you, you’re going to live with me, alright?” you tell the rat as you pass him a raisin. The rat seems ambivalent about your words, probably because he is a rat, but enthusiastic about the snack. You try and force yourself to get back to your work for Secondo, but it’s really hard when you have such an adorable little coworker. You spend the next hour watching him run around your deck and steal more of your trail mix, bursting with joy when he runs up your arm and plonks himself down on your shoulder. Eventually he just falls asleep there and when you feel his little body rise and fall as he dreams, you think you might just explode.

Then there is a gentle knock at the door.

You almost fall off your seat in shock, having been far too focussed on your new friend to remember that there was a world outside of this desk. It’s probably one of Secondo’s staff, sent down yet again to bother you. You try and keep the sigh out of your voice when you call out.

“Come in!”

A leather glove holds the archive door as it pushes open. That’s… unfamiliar. You trace your eyes up the sleeve, along the chasuble, to the neck and white face paint…

“Hi, hello. Sorry, you are the archivist?”

It’s Papa Emeritus IV. Of course it is. You’re glad you’re wearing a jumper with a high enough collar to cover that horrid scar across your neck.

“Oh, fuck me,” mutter. Papa furrows his brow.

“Eh, what was that?” he asks, confused. You quickly clear your throat and stand up, not sure if you should bow, or kneel, or show some other display of respect. In fact your body just freezes and instead you stand there, staring at him, a deer in the headlights.

A moment passes as neither of you speak and you wish that the ground would open up and swallow you whole, Satan welcoming you once again into His arms and fucking keeping you there this time, just to get away from the horrid awkwardness of this moment. But then the rat on your shoulder stirs and his gaze is drawn there, and his body visibly relaxes.

“Oh! Beelzebub, there you are. I’ve been looking for you for three days, piccole pesti.”

The rat squeaks as if he knows he is being addressed.  It is enough to bring you back to the moment and you quickly adjust your posture, making sure you’re standing straight and proper in front of your Papa. You manage a smile even though you’re shaking in his presence.

“Sorry, your Dark Holiness, I wasn’t expecting to see you down here. I haven’t had a Papa visit me since…” you quickly count the years and then give up with a “...ever, I think. Welcome to the archives.”

Papa hits you with a genuine smile at your warmness that almost knocks you clean off your feet. He looks around the room, taking it in for the first time.

“This is where you work? It’s very big. Do you… do you have other members of staff?” he asks, eyes searching for company. You shake your head.

“No, Papa, it’s just me.”

“You must be very busy, eh?”

“Oh, I am, but it keeps me out of trouble!” you try to laugh and you’re worried he hears how forced it sounds, but the chuckle he gives you back seems sincere. 

“Well, I’d like to thank you for all you do. I’m sure this Ministry would be a mess without you keeping on top of these things.”

Something in your chest stirs, and you think it’s your heart. You’re not sure of the last time anyone actually thanked you for your work. And, indeed, you probably have earned it - you can only imagine what a dump this place would be if you weren’t organising every item that came down here, cataloguing it, putting it in its proper place.

“Thank you, Papa. I appreciate you saying that,” you say, your voice a little thick with emotion from the honesty. Are the tips of his ears going pink? No, it must just be a trick of the darkness down here. The rat squeaks on your shoulder and you’re ricocheted back into the moment.

“Sorry, he probably wants to go home, right?” you ask. Papa rolls his eyes at the creature good-naturedly.

“Oh, he never wants to go home. This one is always trying to escape his brothers, giving his poor papa a heart attack.”

The fact he just referred to himself as a rat dad is not lost on you, and once again, your heart thumps in your chest. You’re not used to it. It’s making you feel a bit dizzy.

“Do you have many rats?”

“Just three at the moment. This is Beelzebub, and there is also Astaroth and, eh, Macaroni,” he confesses. The grin which passes your face threatens to rip your cheeks open. “Macaroni is from a previous mischief, I got the others so he wouldn’t be lonely.”

“And you fell into the perpetual rat problem?” you ask with a laugh. His eyes light up.

“Sì, yes! You know it. Do you have any?”

“Not at the moment. I did in my childhood. People always think you’re strange when you have rats, they don’t know that they can be just as affectionate as other animals. Little bodies, big personalities!”

“Exactly!” Papa agrees, clapping his hands together in delight at your words. Something passes between the two of you, something sweet and electric. You hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, and you’re overcome with the desire to ask him to stay with you, sit down and share a coffee as you discuss this shared interest. 

But that wouldn’t be proper. Your computer pings, and you drag your eyes away from Papa’s beautiful mismatched ones to check your notifications. It’s from Secondo. He’s clearly fucking worked out how to bother you digitally now, too. You groan.

“Ah, I am sorry. You must have work, no?” Papa asks. NO, you want to scream, I WILL THROW THIS COMPUTER OUT THE NEAREST WINDOW IF YOU WILL STAY DOWN HERE WITH ME FOR JUST TEN MORE MINUTES.

You don’t scream that. Instead, you nod.

“My apologies, Papa. If I don’t finish this, your brother…”

You trail off. It’s enough for him to understand what you mean. He gives you a sad smile.

“I will stop distracting you, then, and get this one back to his cage.”

You carefully scoop the rat off of your shoulder and deposit him into Papa’s outstretched hands. Your little finger grazes his as you do, and you’re delighted at how warm you find him to be even through the gloves. The two of you lock eyes again. Neither of you want to look away.

“Goodbye, Papa,” you force yourself to say.

“Goodbye, Miracolo,” he replies. It’s a name you haven’t heard yourself called for many, many years. Not in sincerity, anyway, always with the twinge of an insult behind it. Mockery. But there is no such unkindness from Papa’s lips. You think he means it. 

He gives you one last smile as Beelzebub skitters up his sleeve to sit on his shoulder, and he closes the archive doors behind him. You are left in the quiet once again.

It hurts you to know that you’ll probably never see him again.

tags (lmk if you want to be added): @belilwen @circle--of--confusion

[reijisteacup]

imagine a blonde sacrificial bride and reiji is talking about how dumb shu is and she says “duhh its bc hes blonde!” and then she remembers and is like, “oh!!” how would the boys react LOL

LOL

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Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

He hears it from the other room. Yells, “I HEARD THAT, YOU DUMB BARBIE.” Then shuffles in, lazy grin, flops down on your lap. “You and me both, huh? Guess we match~” He 100% starts calling you his “Blonde Clone.” You’re never living it down.

Reiji Sakamaki:

He’s mid-lecture, glasses glinting with righteous rage, until you drop that bomb. He stops. Stares at you. “…Are you implying you’re also intellectually inferior, then?” He says it dryly. Like he’s begging you to take it back. You don't. You just blink. He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters, “Unbelievable. Two blondes. Double the suffering.” Still makes you tea five minutes later like nothing happened, but he’s pouring it aggressively.

Laito Sakamaki:

GASPS. Overly dramatic. “Ara~ Bitch-chan!! Are you saying we’re both… dumb and sexy~?” Pulls you into his arms. “We should form a blonde alliance and destroy the smarties.” Absolutely turns it into a roleplay scenario later. “Oops~ I forgot my homework, Sensei~” You unlocked a new kink and a new inside joke.

Kanato Sakamaki:

Slow head turn. “…You’re blonde. And you just said that.” He’s silent for ten seconds. Then starts giggling. A weird, unsettling giggle. “Maybe Shu should take you to his dumb corner.” Threatens to dye your hair brown while you sleep. Do not test him.

Ayato Sakamaki:

Bursts out laughing. HARD. “PFFFT! Chichinashi, did you just roast yourself?! HA!” He points. Teases you for days. “You’re lucky you’re cute, dumbass.” But the minute someone else calls you dumb? Ayato’s suddenly grabbing collars and growling, “Only I get to call her that, got it?!”

Subaru Sakamaki:

He stares at you like you just admitted you eat glue. “Did… did you seriously say that?” You nod sheepishly. He puts his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I fell for a blonde bimbo…” …But he’s blushing the whole time. Still squeezes your hand and mumbles, “Don’t say that around the others. You’re smarter than Shu. Barely.”

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

His soul leaves his body for a full five seconds. “You…” he mutters slowly, looking like he’s re-evaluating your entire existence. You wait nervously. He finally sighs. “…I suppose beauty has its price.” He immediately starts assigning reading material to help you “balance your radiance with intellect.”

Kou Mukami:

Laughs so hard he drops his phone. “Oh my god, Babe, you really are my sunshine idiot~ I LOVE IT.” He makes you a TikTok with a soundbite of the line. It goes viral. He buys you a shirt that says: “I’m Blonde, What’s Your Excuse?”

Yuma Mukami:

Stares blankly. “…Yer lucky I like dumbasses.” Pats your head like a confused farmer petting a duck. Later tries to explain what “self-drag” means while planting carrots. He still doesn’t get it, but he’s proud of you anyway.

Azusa Mukami:

“…That was… deep…” “Wait, really?” “Yes… it’s like… you understand yourself… and accept it…” (the subtle insult lol) He thinks you’re a philosopher now. Calls you “wise and soft.” Probably starts journaling your quotes.

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

The air stills. He looks at you with the slow, precise grace of a man trying to determine if you are joking, cursed, or simply… doomed. “…You realize what you just said, correct?” You nervous giggle “Oops?” He closes his eyes. Inhales deeply like a king meditating through the pain of a thousand plagues. “Even a gem can have flaws. Perhaps yours… is simply terminal airheadedness.” He immediately adds “Blonde Logic Management” to your curriculum. You now have logic puzzles and deductive reasoning games every morning before breakfast. Still calls you “my little sunbeam of chaos” when no one’s around.

Shin Tsukinami:

He chokes on his drink. Falls over. Wheezing. “BAHAHAHAHA! You just absolutely destroyed yourself, what the hell!” He’s crying. Rolling on the floor. “Best. Self-own. Ever.” Points at you for the rest of the day and says things like: “Don’t listen to her, she’s on blonde time.” “The blonde hive mind strikes again.” “She’s cute, but you need subtitles to follow her logic.” But, if anyone else dares insult your intelligence? He bares his fangs instantly. “You wanna die, punk? That’s my dumbass. Back off.”