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cherryxbooo · 4 months ago

Note

Please a “the rookie” Tim Bradford fluff. For Valentine day, when Tim and Lucy are patrolling, Lucy is surprised that Tim is dating for couple days and Lucy wants to meet her. The end of the day, lucy saw Tim walking towards shy!reader. Couple minutes later, Lucy caught Tim and Shyreader making out in the breaking room. https://youtu.be/7MqzwaO-eQE?si=K1M4TDlFaIehiDoU

You deserve all of this and more

Summary: Lucy is shocked to discover that Tim isn’t single and sets out to uncover the mystery of his girlfriend.

Note: I'm back! Thank you for your request! Even though I still have one more exam to go, I decided to give you all an early present! You know me by now and how I like to put my own spin on the stories I write, so it’s not just a direct copy of the original scene. Hope you like it!

Shy reader x Tim Bradford

Genre: Fluff

The morning sun shone down brightly, casting a soft golden glow over the city streets.

The sky stretched out in a crisp shade of blue, unmarred by a single cloud.

It was one of those perfect mornings, cool but not too cold, with the promise of a calm day ahead.

As Officer Lucy Chen approached the patrol car, she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief.

After the chaos of the past few shifts, today seemed like it might be a breeze.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Lucy clicked her seatbelt into place with a practiced motion.

She shifted in her seat, adjusting herself for comfort as she stole a quick glance at her training officer, Sergeant Tim Bradford.

His presence, as always, was commanding.

Even though they were just about to start their routine patrol, Tim had that same focused, unflappable demeanor that made him so intimidating to most.

But Lucy had been through enough shifts with him to know there was more to him than the steely exterior he projected.

Tim was staring down at the patrol car’s navigation screen, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel.

The sound of his fingers drumming lightly filled the car, a sound she had become intimately familiar with over the months of riding along with him.

It was his way of staying grounded, of keeping himself in control.

He wasn’t the kind of person who liked to feel rushed or out of sorts, even on a simple day like today.

"Alright, Chen," Tim said without looking up from the screen, his voice flat and businesslike as usual.

"Looks like we’re covering the usual sectors today. Try not to get distracted."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Distracted? Me?" she asked with mock innocence.

"Never." She leaned back in her seat and grinned, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

Tim shot her a quick, side-long glance, his lips twitching just slightly. He was trying to hide it, but Lucy could tell, his mood was a little different today.

Normally, he was calm and collected to the point of being nearly emotionless, but today there was a subtle shift in his energy, a lightness to his presence that didn’t quite match his usual serious tone.

Lucy, ever the observant one, picked up on these small changes faster than most.

She studied him a bit longer, trying to gauge what was going on. Something was off, no, wait.

Something was better.

The way his posture was just a little less stiff, the way his eyes seemed more focused on the present moment rather than scanning the horizon for potential trouble.

Tim wasn’t just going through the motions today.

There was something in his demeanor that told her he was… happier?

Her curiosity piqued, Lucy narrowed her eyes, leaning forward slightly.

"Okay, what's up?"

Tim sighed, but it wasn’t the usual exasperated sigh he gave when Lucy’s questions got too personal.

No, this time it felt almost... indulgent? He didn’t answer immediately, instead focusing on pulling the car away from the curb with a smooth, practiced motion.

His eyes were still locked on the road ahead, but the subtle hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Nothing’s up," Tim replied, but Lucy wasn’t buying it.

She studied him intently, her brow furrowing.

Something in the way he said it, the slight change in his voice, told her that something was definitely up.

"You’re different today," she pressed, her tone more inquisitive now.

"You seem... I don’t know. Lighter? Did you actually get a full eight hours of sleep for once?"

Tim scoffed and glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his lips curling into a small, wry grin.

"Yeah, right. Like that ever happens."

Lucy smiled to herself, but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily.

She tilted her head, her gaze lingering on him as she continued to study his expression, trying to unlock the mystery of this odd shift in his usual mood.

Tim wasn’t the type to be so… light. He was always on guard, always the professional, always a little bit closed off.

But now, there was something different. She could feel it in the air between them.

Regardless she decided to let it rest. For now.

"You know Angela asked me earlier who I thought was more difficult. Her or you."

Tim frowned at what Lucy said, before rolling his eyes.

"Of course you're going to choose me."

Lucy laughed at his behaviour.

"You know, Angela knew you were going to say that. Now I understand why she said that you're the most stubborn person alive."

Tim looked offended. "Me? Stubborn? Yeah sure."

Lucy couldn't help but annoy him more.

"Yeah, she also said that was probably the reason why you're still single."

Tim looked once again very offended before defending himself.

"First of all, I'm not stubborn like she makes me out to be, and second of all who said that I'm still single huh?

A sudden thought hit her, sharp and startling. Her eyes widened in realization.

"Oh my god," she whispered, the realization dawning on her like a flash of lightning.

"You’re seeing someone?"

Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened just a fraction, his jaw clenching for a split second before he forced his muscles to relax.

But Lucy saw it, the small, almost imperceptible shift in his body language that confirmed her suspicion.

Lucy’s mouth dropped open, unable to contain her surprise.

"You? Tim Bradford, the man who never lets his guard down, is in a relationship?"

Her voice was tinged with disbelief and excitement. She smacked his arm lightly, unable to help herself.

"Why didn’t you tell me?!"

"Because it’s none of your business,"

Tim said flatly, his usual deadpan tone back in full force.

But Lucy wasn’t having it. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, pressing him for more.

"Oh, come on. How long has this been going on?" she asked, crossing her arms in mock indignation.

"A week? A month?"

"That doesn't concern you Chen," Tim admitted reluctantly, his voice quiet and almost defensive.

Lucy’s eyes grew even wider. "Yes it does concern me!" she repeated, stunned.

"And you don't want to tell your best friend?"

Tim scoffed and shot her a dry look. "You’re not my best friend."

Lucy put a hand to her heart in mock offense.

"Fine. Your work best friend," she corrected with a grin, clearly enjoying this newfound tidbit of information.

"So, who is she? Someone I know? Ooh, is it a nurse? You do have a thing for tough women."

Tim let out a slow, controlled breath, clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"You’re relentless, you know that?"

Lucy just grinned wider, her curiosity burning with every new question.

She wasn’t going to let him get away with being so mysterious.

"You know you’re going to have to introduce me, right?"

Tim’s lips quirked into a smirk, but he didn’t answer.

He just shifted the car into gear and pressed down on the accelerator, clearly choosing to leave the conversation there for now.

But Lucy wasn’t done yet.

She knew better than to let something like this slide. No, she was going to find out everything.

After a long, relatively uneventful shift, Lucy still couldn’t shake the feeling of curiosity off.

She had spent the entire day trying to crack the mystery of who Tim was dating.

Every time she threw a playful guess at him,

"Is she a dispatcher, a nurse, oh no maybe a fellow officer? No no that seems unusual. A firefighter perhaps?".

Tim just gave her that same tight-lipped response, his eyes flicking to her for just a moment before his expression slipped back into its usual mask.

But Lucy had been riding along with him for long enough to know when he was holding back, and right now, everything about him felt different.

He was still the same Tim, the solid, reliable training officer, but there was an unfamiliar lightness to him.

And she needed to know who caused it.

When they finally finished their last call and the end of the shift was in sight, Lucy was practically bouncing in her seat.

Her mind was racing with possibilities.

She threw out her last guess of the day:

“Someone from the gym, right? Is that it? Did you finally get tired of the ‘no-strings-attached’ thing?”

Tim didn’t even look at her, his eyes firmly on the road ahead, his jaw set in that familiar way.

He didn’t respond, not even with his typical sarcastic quip.

That only fueled her curiosity more. The silence was unbearable.

As they pulled into the station parking lot, the car’s tires made a soft hum against the concrete, signaling the end of another long shift.

Tim parked with his usual precision, and Lucy immediately hopped out of the shop, stretching her arms over her head to shake off the fatigue.

The cool air nipped at her skin, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still on him.

“Alright, I’m calling it now. You are introducing me to her at some point, right?”

Lucy asked, her voice light but with an edge of excitement.

She wasn’t about to let this drop, not when she was so close to the truth.

Tim shot her a quick glance, lips barely twitching.

“See you tomorrow, Chen,” he said in his usual deadpan voice, but there was something a little too… casual about it, like he was almost trying to brush her off.

Lucy narrowed her eyes, but before she could reply, Tim turned and started walking away toward the parking lot.

“Hey, wait-!”

She was about to call after him when something or better said someone, caught her eye.

There, standing a little off to the side, was a woman.

She was fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater, her posture slightly hunched like she was nervous, waiting for something or someone.

The moment Lucy noticed her, a jolt of realization hit her hard.

No. It couldn’t be…

Lucy’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Tim’s figure slow as he approached the woman.

There was no mistaking it now.

This had to be the woman he was seeing.

Lucy lingered near the door, pretending to check her phone, but her eyes never left the scene unfolding before her.

She wasn’t trying to spy, but she was trying to understand.

Tim’s steps grew slower as he neared her, and Lucy’s breath caught in her throat when she saw his expression shift.

The usual, ever-present stoic mask that Tim wore like armor, shattered in an instant.

His face softened as he looked at the woman.

He wasn’t the unapproachable Sergeant now; he was just… Tim.

Lucy blinked, her mind racing.

“No way…” she muttered under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

She couldn’t take her eyes off them.

She watched in amusement, having never seen Tim like this before.

The woman looked up, her face lighting up like the sun at the sight of him.

She smiled, shy but warm, and Lucy felt a pang of something unfamiliar at the sight.

Something inside her, a strange blend of awe and curiosity stirred. It was as though she was witnessing something sacred.

Tim’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles in return. His hand, which had been at his side, moved slowly toward the woman.

Lucy saw his fingers brush against hers, tentative at first, as though testing the waters.

Then, with a smooth, fluid motion, he took her hand completely, holding it gently.

His thumb moved across her knuckles in a soft, comforting motion as he squeezed her hand, his touch reassuring and intimate.

Lucy’s mouth went dry. She had to blink a few times to process what she was seeing.

This was a side of Tim she hadn’t even imagined before.

The stern, unflappable Tim who had always been so professional, so untouchable, was now showing a side of himself that was raw, unguarded, and, dare she say, in love?

It was like she was seeing him for the first time.

The woman looked up at him, her eyes full of something that Lucy didn’t quite understand but recognized immediately.

Adoration? Trust? The kind of quiet affection that only came from knowing someone in the most real, vulnerable way.

Tim’s voice, when it broke the silence, was lower than usual, softer somehow.

She couldn’t hear the words, but the tone was unmistakable, a kind of tenderness that had never been directed her way.

Lucy could almost feel the warmth between them, and for a brief moment, she felt like an intruder, a third wheel to this incredibly private moment.

Should I walk over? Should I say something?

The thought crossed her mind, but as quickly as it came, she dismissed it.

No, she couldn’t interrupt this.

Not when it was so obvious how much this moment meant to both of them.

She stood frozen, watching Tim lean down a bit, his voice even softer now as he spoke to her.

The way the woman’s face lit up when he said something, there was a spark in her eyes, a knowing smile that made Lucy’s heart flutter.

The connection between them was so palpable, it almost felt like something she shouldn’t witness.

Lucy could feel the curiosity still eating away at her, she was dying to know more, to meet the woman who had somehow unlocked this side of Tim, this version of him.

But something told her that now was not the time.

No, if she interrupted this moment, if she said anything, it would ruin it.

She wasn’t sure why, but she knew in her gut that this was their time, not hers.

With one last lingering look at them, Lucy stepped back toward the door, a plan forming in her mind.

She didn’t need to rush this.

She could wait. But she was definitely getting answers later.

No one keeps secrets from Officer Lucy Chen for long.

Meanwhile, before Lucy started spying on the both of you:

The clock on my dashboard blinked 6:30 PM, casting a soft glow in the otherwise dim interior of my car.

The day had stretched on longer than I’d expected, and now, the world outside was slowly shifting from the golden light of late afternoon into the cool, gentle hues of evening.

The city lights were beginning to twinkle in the distance, like tiny stars scattered across the darkening sky, and the air had a slight chill to it, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier.

I was standing next to my car in the parking lot of the police station.

My fingers nervously drummed on the steering wheel as I glanced back at the clock again.

I had been waiting for a little while now.

6:30, Tim should be done soon.

The thought of seeing him again had my stomach fluttering in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

I had spent the whole day surrounded by the chaos of my kindergarten class, the kids bouncing off the walls, asking questions I could barely keep up with.

But now, here I was, finally getting a quiet moment.

A moment with him. The thought was enough to make me smile softly to myself.

It wasn’t just the anticipation that had me feeling all soft inside.

It was him. Tim.

Ever since he’d stepped into my life, things had felt... different.

Better. His presence was like this quiet anchor that grounded me, even in the most chaotic moments.

I remembered how shy and awkward I’d been at the start, fumbling over my words, avoiding his gaze, terrified that I wasn’t good enough for him.

But he never seemed to mind.

Tim had a way of making me feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

And with each passing day, I grew more comfortable around him.

I was still shy, so shy, but Tim made it feel like being myself was exactly enough.

His words, his gentle touches, his quiet but steady affection, it all added up to something that made my heart race every time I thought about it.

And tonight, I was lucky enough to be spending time with him, just the two of us, away from the noise of the world.

As I sat there, staring out at the parking lot, I couldn’t help but feel my heart pick up its pace.

It was ridiculous how excited I was to see him.

I was probably blushing just thinking about him.

But it was impossible not to.

Tim had a way of making everything seem so effortless, yet so real.

I was in love with him. It was that simple. (real girl so so real)

A soft sound broke through my reverie, the rhythmic tap of boots against concrete.

I snapped my head toward the sound, my pulse quickening, and there he was.

Tim. Walking toward me, his figure cutting through the soft twilight as if he belonged in this moment, like everything in the world was right because he was here.

I couldn’t help but stare.

Even in his police uniform, looking all serious, he had this effortlessly handsome way about him.

His jacket sleeves were rolled up, giving him a slightly more relaxed look than usual.

Yet, even with all of that, the power and authority in his stance were still there.

He was... just Tim, and in his presence, I felt both completely small and incredibly safe at the same time.

His eyes softened when they met mine, and that subtle smile, oh, that smile, stretched across his face.

My heart skipped a beat.

The usual confident, almost stoic Tim had this side to him that he only ever showed to me, and it made me feel like the luckiest person alive.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted me, his voice low and soothing, as he came to a stop in front of my car.

There was a softness there, a tenderness that never failed to make my insides flutter.

“Sorry I kept you waiting. I was wrapping up some stuff. Didn’t mean to make you hang around.”

I smiled up at him, my cheeks flushing a little.

“It’s okay, Tim. I didn’t mind. I’ve been thinking about you, actually.”

His brow quirked, and he stepped closer, his body just barely brushing mine as he leaned against my car.

“Oh really?” His voice dropped an octave, and I could hear that teasing edge.

He was so good at it. “What exactly were you thinking about, hmm?”

I could feel the butterflies swirl in my stomach, and I dropped my gaze for a moment, my heart thudding harder in my chest.

“I—uh, I don’t know,” I muttered, too shy to meet his eyes.

“I’ve just been thinking about... us. About how happy I am when I’m with you.”

Tim’s gaze softened immediately, and he stepped even closer, his hand brushing against mine as if by accident, but I knew it wasn’t.

Tim was never the type to do anything by accident.

Every touch from him felt deliberate, and that made my heart race even more.

“You make me happy too, Y/n,” he said, his voice so sincere it almost took my breath away.

“I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

His hand found mine, and his fingers interlaced with mine, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of comfort through me.

There was this quiet moment where neither of us said anything, just stood there, fingers intertwined, breathing in the cool air of the evening.

I felt like time had slowed down, like the world outside us didn’t matter anymore.

It was just him and me in this little bubble we had created for ourselves.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be here with you, Tim,” I whispered, voice barely above a breath.

I didn't know where this was coming from, but for some reason, my insecurities spilled out just like that.

“I didn’t think someone like you would even notice someone like me.”

Tim’s eyes softened, and he gently cupped my face with his other hand.

His thumb brushed across my cheek in a slow, comforting motion.

“I notice you, sweetheart. I see you. And I’ve been wanting this... wanting us... for longer than you think.”

His voice was so steady, so sure, that it melted any lingering doubts I had.

“I’m really lucky,” I murmured, my voice small but sincere.

“I don’t deserve you, but I’m really lucky.”

“Don’t say that,”

Tim murmured, his gaze intense and warm.

“You deserve all of this and more.”

He smiled again, and his thumb brushed my lip this time, sending a jolt of warmth through me.

“You’ve got no idea how much you mean to me, babe.”

My heart fluttered in my chest, my face burning as I looked up at him, not sure if I could handle the weight of his words.

But just the fact that he was saying them, just the fact that Tim Bradford, this strong, serious man, was sharing his heart with me, made everything feel right.

“I... I feel the same,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Tim’s eyes never left mine. “Yeah? You feel the same?”

His tone was soft now, teasing, but there was a quiet edge to it.

“Good, because I’m not letting you go, Y/n. Not now, not ever.”

My stomach flipped with a combination of nerves and excitement, and I couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped me.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” I said quietly, the words leaving my lips before I could stop them.

Tim chuckled lowly, his hand sliding from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer until our foreheads were nearly touching.

“Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.

“Because I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

Tim suddenly took a step back as if he just remembered something.

“I just remembered that I still have to change and get some things from the break room. So what do you say? Mind joining me inside for a bit?”

I nodded, grateful for his company, even though I felt my cheeks flush a little.

He had this effect on me, making me feel both nervous and at ease at the same time.

We walked together into the station, the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above creating a steady, almost comforting rhythm.

The sound was oddly relaxing, predictable in its way, like the background music to a peaceful evening.

My steps naturally matched Tim’s, and I found myself gravitating toward him, enjoying the steady pace of his stride as he led me through the hallways.

There was something about the way Tim walked, so assured, so composed, that made me feel small in the best way possible.

Like I could follow him anywhere and feel completely safe doing so.

His presence seemed to fill the space around us, creating an invisible bubble of calm that I didn’t want to escape.

As we turned corners and passed through doors, I realized how easily I’d fallen into step with him.

It wasn’t just his confidence that made me follow; it was the way he made me feel.

Like everything was just right, even when things weren’t perfect.

When we reached the break room, Tim reached for the door handle, holding it open for me with that familiar soft smile of his.

I stepped inside first, taking in the simple surroundings. The room was nothing special, just a standard break room.

The coffee machine sat against the far wall, the usual clutter of papers scattered across the table.

But with Tim here, everything felt different.

Warm.

Personal.

Like the room had been transformed by his presence as if it was no longer just a mundane spot to take a break, but a space where something... special could happen.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tim said as he closed the door behind us, his voice smooth and reassuring.

“I’ll just be a minute. Need to finish up some last details from the shift.”

I nodded, settling into one of the chairs at the table as he moved to sort through some papers.

He always looked so focused when he worked, his brows furrowing slightly in concentration, yet there was a gentleness to his movements, as though nothing about this, nothing about me, was ever a chore.

I watched him for a moment, taking in the way he moved with a quiet grace, confident but never rushed.

There was something magnetic about him, something I couldn’t quite put into words.

I sighed quietly, half from contentment and half from the nagging realization that I was once again struck by how lucky I was to be here with him.

It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling, this peaceful, giddy joy that washed over me whenever Tim was near.

But it was real, and every moment spent with him only deepened the warmth in my chest.

I glanced up, finding Tim’s eyes on me.

His lips quirked into that mischievous little smirk, the one that always made my heart skip a beat.

“What?” he asked, his tone playful, his voice lowering just enough to make me feel like I was the only one who mattered in the room.

“Nothing,” I mumbled quickly, my face heating up as I averted my gaze, looking down at my hands folded in my lap.

But Tim wasn’t about to let me off that easily.

He took a few steps toward me, his boots making a soft, rhythmic sound on the floor, and I could feel his presence all around me.

When he stopped beside me, I couldn’t help but notice the way his tall frame seemed to fill the space.

His body language confident and sure, but there was that warmth in his eyes that made me feel like he was looking at me in a way that was all his own.

He leaned in just enough that I could feel his breath against my cheek, his voice a soft, teasing whisper.

“You’re so cute when you’re shy,” he murmured, the affection in his words sending a flutter of warmth straight to my heart.

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt the heat flood my face, turning me into a blushing mess.

“I’m not… I’m not shy,”

I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper, but my trembling hands were betraying me, making it obvious that he was right.

Tim chuckled, the sound low and warm, like a comforting melody I never wanted to end.

“You are,"

He said gently, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch soft and deliberate, sending shivers down my spine.

“And I like it. I like everything about you.”

The world seemed to tilt just a little bit as my heart skipped a beat.

How could he do this to me?

How could he make my chest feel so full and my stomach feel like it was filled with butterflies every time he touched me, every time he spoke?

“I—” I started, but the words caught in my throat.

I swear he does it on purpose.

I didn’t know what to say.

Tim’s gaze softened as if he could read every thought that flickered across my face, and without another word, his hand moved to cup my cheek, gently guiding my face toward his.

I looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted in surprise.

He smiled tenderly at me, and his thumb brushed along my cheekbone, a quiet caress that made my pulse race.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, his voice low and full of sincerity.

“You know that?”

I could barely breathe, let alone respond. My words tumbled out in a rush, shaky and uncertain.

“You’re… too nice,”

I whispered, not feeling like I deserved such sweetness from him, even though every fiber of my being longed to believe him.

“I mean it, Y/n,” Tim said, his expression unwavering.

“You’re perfect. Every little thing about you is perfect.”

Before I could respond, before I could say anything more, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, timeless, almost, as if he was savoring every second of it.

I felt my whole body go warm like the world around us had disappeared, and there was nothing but the two of us in this quiet room.

His lips were soft but insistent, and I couldn’t help but melt into him, my hands instinctively finding their way to his shirt, gripping it as if I were afraid I might float away.

Tim’s other hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me in closer, and I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the strength of his arms, the tenderness in his touch.

I was lost in the feeling, in the sweetness of the moment, the connection we shared.

This kiss soon turns into a make-out session.

But just as I was about to lose myself completely in him, the door to the break room slammed open with such force that it startled both of us.

The loud crash echoed through the room, and I gasped, pulling away from Tim in shock.

I blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just happened.

And there, standing in the doorway, was a woman.

Her eyes were wide with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, her mouth hanging open in a perfect expression of

"I can't believe what I'm seeing."

Her gaze flickered between Tim and me, and I felt my face go bright red in an instant.

I instinctively took a small step back, trying to hide behind Tim, but I could still feel the heat of my embarrassment creeping up my neck.

“Aha!” Lucy’s voice rang out, filled with mock triumph.

“I knew it!” she added, a teasing lilt in her tone that made my heart race even faster.

Tim groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated by the interruption.

I could feel the tension in his body, but it didn’t seem to bother Lucy in the slightest.

She was practically glowing with amusement.

“Well, well, well,” she drawled, taking a few steps into the room.

“So this is the mystery woman who’s been making Tim Bradford smile.”

My heart thudded in my chest, and I peeked out from behind Tim, too shy to look her in the eye directly.

My voice was a soft whisper as I managed a tiny “Hi,” my cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

Lucy’s expression softened as she looked at me, and a warm smile spread across her face.

“Oh, you’re adorable,” she said genuinely, her voice much kinder than I’d expected.

“I’m Lucy, by the way. Tim’s very annoying work best friend as he likes to call me.”

I smiled shyly, feeling the weight of the moment, but I managed to squeak out,

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

Lucy’s gaze flickered back to Tim, and her eyebrow raised playfully.

“What did you do to him?” she asked, her voice dripping with exaggerated curiosity.

“I’ve known this grumpy guy for years, and I’ve never seen him this soft.”

Tim groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“Lucy, leave it alone,” he muttered, but it was clear he wasn’t actually mad.

He was just trying to hide the softness I’d seen in him.

But Lucy wasn’t about to let this go.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” she teased, shooting us one last playful glance.

“You two are too cute.”

I couldn’t stop the soft giggle that escaped me, my heart still racing with nerves and happiness.

Tim’s arm went around me instinctively, pulling me a little closer to his side as he shot Lucy a mock warning glare.

“Alright, Chen,” he sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes.

“Leave us alone.”

Lucy flashed me one last, teasing smile before she backed out of the room, her voice carrying through the door.

“Fine, fine. But I’m getting the full scoop later, you two. Oh everyone in the station is going to love this! Especially Angela!”

As the door clicked shut behind Lucy, the room felt quieter, and I finally exhaled.

Tim turned to face me, his gaze softening as he took a step closer.

He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle but deliberate.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice low and smooth, almost teasing.

There was no real apology behind it, more like a recognition of the awkwardness in the air.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded, looking down at my hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

My heart was still racing, and I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “Really.”

Tim chuckled softly, that familiar glint in his eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d be so shy even after everything we’ve been through and how long we've been together,”

he teased, his hand still resting lightly on my shoulder, just enough to make me feel grounded.

“I’m not shy,” I muttered quickly, though the way my cheeks burned probably said otherwise.

I tried to meet his gaze, but I quickly found myself looking down again.

“I just... don’t like being caught off guard.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Tim said, his voice full of amusement.

He gently cupped my chin, lifting it so I had to look at him.

“It’s okay, Y/n. You know I don’t mind seeing you blush.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, and I felt my face heat up even more.

I was sure I looked like a mess, but I didn’t want to pull away.

He was so close, his presence overwhelming in the best way.

“You’re impossible,” I whispered, but the words had no real bite.

It was hard to stay frustrated when he was standing there, looking at me like that.

Tim’s grin only widened.

“You like it, though,” he said softly, his thumb brushing along the curve of my jaw.

“Admit it.”

I shook my head slightly, trying to hold onto some sense of control, but the way his hand was so steady on me made it hard to think straight.

“I—" I started, but the words seemed to get stuck.

Tim leaned in just a little, his breath warm against my ear as he murmured,

“It’s okay baby. You don’t have to say anything.”

I took a deep breath, feeling my hands shake slightly.

“I’m just not used to... this,” I confessed, still unsure of how to explain the mix of feelings I was experiencing.

“Not used to being... with someone like you.”

Tim’s smile softened, but there was still that playful edge in his voice when he spoke again.

“Someone like me?” he repeated, teasing.

“You make it sound like I’m some kind of monster.”

I gave a small, nervous laugh, finally managing to look up at him.

“No, it’s not that,” I said quickly, though I wasn’t sure if I was making it better or worse.

“It’s just... you’re so... confident.”

Tim’s eyes softened a little, and he stepped even closer, his hand now resting lightly on my waist.

“And you like that about me,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and I couldn’t help but nod slightly.

“Yeah... I do,” I admitted, the words feeling more natural than I expected.

Tim’s grin returned, and he brushed his thumb over the back of my hand, his gaze warm but filled with that teasing spark.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Because you’re the only one who gets to see this side of me, Y/n. The side that doesn’t mind making you blush.”

I couldn’t hold back a small smile at that, and for the first time, the awkwardness of the situation didn’t feel so heavy.

I liked this, the way Tim knew just how to make me feel at ease, even when I was a mess of nerves.

“You’re lucky I’m still standing here, huh?”

I said quietly, but there was a hint of a smile in my voice, something I couldn’t quite hide.

Tim chuckled, the sound rich and easy.

“I’m lucky every time you’re here with me,” he said softly, his hand now settling more firmly on my back, pulling me in just a little.

I looked up at him, heart beating faster but with a little more steadiness now.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” I murmured, not really meaning it, but not sure what else to say.

Tim leaned down just enough to place a quick, soft kiss on my forehead.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said, his voice warm, but still carrying that edge of playfulness.

“Not anytime soon, at least.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that.

Even though we’d just had a somewhat awkward moment, everything felt... okay.

It felt like it always did when I was with him, comfortable, easy, but still full of that undeniable connection.

“I’m just glad I’m here with you,”

I whispered, and this time, it felt like I actually meant it, fully and completely.

Tim’s hand lingered on my back, and for a second, the world outside the break room felt distant, irrelevant.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he said quietly, his voice steady and real. “Me too.”

The end

#tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim x reader #tim bradford #the rookie fanfiction #the rookie fanfic #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #the rookie fic

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hcneymooners · 2 months ago

Text

౨ৎ to be dangerous and blooming, to eat of you.

ceo!paige x architect!azzi. men & minors dni.

synopsis: azzi is a sought-after architect known for her quiet intensity and near-spiritual approach to space. paige—a former wnba star turned sports tech ceo—didn’t expect much when her assistant picked her to design the house. but months pass, walls rise, and suddenly paige can’t stop thinking about her architect.

cw: mentions of parent death, fluff, slow-ish burn, strangers-to-lovers, aged-up!pazzi.

notes: this would not leave me alone, it was like a ghost against its own grave. fully inspired by @pbaz7 in general, but more specifically their beautiful, recent pazzi "finding peace in you" series which i want fed into my blood via an iv. as always i hope you enjoy. feel free to tell me what you think. i try my best to respond to everything. i love you.

the sky was still the color of ink, streaked thin with lavender and powder-blue light—a fragile morning that seemed to apologize for arriving at all.

paige hadn’t meant to be early, but she’d barely slept. her hoodie was inside out, an old relic from her uconn days, and her sneakers were unlaced; there was the familiar tension in her jaw from clenching through dreams she couldn’t remember. she tried to lose some of it, stretching her mouth into strange shapes as her white mercedes eqs rolled over the gravel beginnings of her destination.

the lot was quiet but not still. the wind picked at the edges of the tarps. there was the smell of fresh earth and wood dust, and something more subtle underneath—clay maybe, or sage. parked off to the side was a mercedes g-wagon, its body dipped in a deep green that pushed against the world's noise and begged it to be silent. the bottom of it was edged with a light layer of dirt. whoever drove it put it to its full use.

good taste, paige thought to herself. she stepped out of her car, closing the door softly. her phone buzzed with every step she took toward the skeletal structure looming just out of reach and eventually, she stopped, tilting her head back in annoyance.

she turned back, tossing her phone into the cup holder and leaving it behind. she walked again, back toward the specter of her future house, and tugged her blonde hair into a loose ponytail. her roots were dark and peeking through; she needed ingrid to book her an appointment at the salon before she flew to toronto for whatever conference she’d agreed to speak at.

paige stepped into what would be the front room, fingers brushing the frame of the temporary doorway. the beams still looked like bones. she stood there, one sneaker slightly sunk in the soil, letting her eyes adjust.

and then she saw her.

the woman was crouched at the far end of the lot, alone, barefoot, her hand in the dirt as if communing with it. she wore a cardigan in a soft, worn orchid purple that hung open, and beneath it an off-the-shoulder top, same color, thinner from wear. the fabric clung delicately to her chest and revealed its swell—not tight, not deliberate, just honest. it wasn’t sexual; it was a mere acknowledgment of her body. her pants folded at the waist like they were meant to, easy and fluid in motion, a smokey blue that matched the sky around them.

paige didn’t speak. just watched, leaning back against the doorway with a titled head.

the woman was tracing lines into the ground with the side of her hand, slow, rhythmic, not unlike a person stirring honey into tea or braiding hair without thinking. her braids were swept back—french curls, spinning down to the waist, a bath of dark brown—and clipped in pl.ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･ace with an amber claw clip engraved with a delicate gold design.

for a moment, paige forgot she’d come here to meet anyone. her keys were still in her hands, but she couldn’t remember pulling them out. there was something inside her—a little itch behind the ribs, a breath trapped hot in her chest—that bloomed forward.

the woman didn’t look up right away. when she did, it was brief—just enough to clock paige, then return to the dirt, brushing her hand flat over the lines she’d made.

paige stepped closer and cleared her throat. “didn’t know anyone would be here this early.”

the woman looked up again. her gaze landed on paige and stayed, not exactly warm, but not unkindly either. only curious. quiet.

“neither did i,” she said. “but sometimes it helps to listen to the house before it starts lying.”

paige raised a brow, folding her arms. “houses lie?”

“all the time,” the other woman said, straightening slowly. she brushed her hands against her thighs, light swipes that somehow managed to look graceful. “to clients, to inspectors, to light. you learn to read through it. even hear it.”

“mm,” paige said. it was a noncommittal sound. “i don’t think my ears are tuned for that. you must be azzi.”

azzi crossed her arms, a smile flickering around her mouth. “and you must be ingrid.”

that startled a smile out of paige, her eyes brightening at the tease. it was a slight jab, but fair.

paige had been wielding her executive assistant like a shield when it came to this whole process. she’d be loath to part with her “bachelor pad” as her brother called it, to step further into her adulthood and put her name on a deed and a house but her family just wouldn’t leave her alone. she’d given in, mostly because she loved them, but had kept her distance until now.

“touché,” paige said. “unfortunately, ingrid couldn’t make it because she is not one to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. so, i had to show up. hope i haven't disappointed.”

azzi took a few steps toward paige, feet bare against the gravel like it didn’t matter. paige tried not to notice how the cardigan slipped further down her shoulder as she moved, exposing more soft, brown skin. she tried not to notice a lot of things.

“you haven’t,” azzi said.

paige could smell her, could feel the notes of her perfume begin to snake inside of her head like the smoke of a flame. gardenia, honey, hints of sticky peach, and milk.

“didn’t think architects got their hands dirty,” paige said, teasing lightly.

azzi tilted her head. “and here i thought executives stayed in their cars.”

that got a low laugh out of paige, caught off-guard. “you always this charming?”

azzi didn’t smile, but her voice softened. she stepped back. “no,” she said. “i don’t flirt. i build.”

there was a beat of quiet. the breeze tugged at the hem of azzi’s cardigan, and paige watched the weak, watery strips of sun land along her collarbone. then azzi nodded toward the frame of the house.

“you don’t know what you want yet. that’s okay. we’ll find it.”

paige looked over at her. “how do you know i don’t know?”

“because your questionnaire was surface level at best,” azzi said simply. “you keep using the words house, building. never ‘home.’ you are unsure if you even want this, let alone what you want to be inside of it.”

azzi crouched again, touching a spot near the beams, then gestured for paige to join her. she hesitated, then stepped forward, crouching too. azzi turned, her lips plump and wet with gloss. they parted, two pink petals. this close, paige could see the dirt on the fat of her fingertips and a thin ring of it underneath her nails.

“can i ask you a question?”

paige paused, then nodded.

“what was one thing in everyone else’s homes that you loved as a kid?” azzi asked quietly. “that you kept thinking about when you left? the thing that made you go ‘fuck, i wish we had that.’”

paige looked at her, startled for a second. she smiled wryly.“you ask everybody that?”

“only people who need it. my job is to be the nudge, not the push. given your history, you already push yourself.”

“so you looked me up?” paige asked, smiling cheekily.

azzi gave her a look, but paige saw the amusement settle across her face. “to work with you, i have to know who you are.”

“what do you know?”

“nothing,” azzi said. she smelled more like summer peaches the longer they crouched together. “i learned what your brand is. pro-athelete-turned-tech-mogul with a focus on health and mentorship. the body as a temple. the real you? that’s private. i’ll learn as we go, i think.”

something flickered behind paige’s eyes. not quite a smile, not quite defense. just something soft.

azzi didn’t press. she just touched the earth again, palm flat, grounding herself. “i don’t want to erase you. tech’s good,” she added. “you’ll most likely want it in an everyday sense based on what you sell. maybe a smart fridge, but we’ll build around it. we cover it with wood cabinets so it doesn’t reflect the flash when taking photos. or if there are kids one day, it doesn’t get cracked.”

paige blinked. “you think ahead.”

“i listen,” azzi said. “to the house. to you. sometimes to the light.”

she looked up at paige one last time, that long, quiet stare like a lighthouse beam—patient, unwavering.

then she stood. “i’m here to work with you, to give you what you want, paige. what i know of you, i like.”

paige opened her mouth, but words escaped her. azzi didn’t wait.

“i’ll see you at a normal hour,” she said, already walking off. “you, not ingrid.”

paige still didn’t say anything. just watched her disappear into the half-formed spine of the house. she was left alone with a strange fluttering in her ribs. not nerves. more of a mapping out.

it felt like a blueprint.

.ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

paige didn’t hear a word of what the man across from her was saying. she only watched his mouth move, saw the whistles of air and speckles of spit leave the dark cavern of his throat.

he was old and patronizing, his face sagging with the weight of years gone past. ingrid sat next to her, diligently taking notes. she’d seen her boss's body become more tense with every passing minute and knew paige’s focus was more on not losing her mind rather than the supposed merits of the business deal being pitched.

the room was too warm. or maybe it was just the buzz of her body: tight at the shoulders, jaw stiff, throat dry like she’d swallowed chalk.

the man—walter? wally? fuck, she couldn’t remember—kept talking. words like incentivize and pivot floated up from his side of the table like gnats. paige thought vaguely about swatting them. maybe she could get away with a quick pop against his shoulder, a good silencing hit.

she blinked. realized she’d been gripping the stem of her water glass so hard her knuckles had gone pale. across the table, ingrid gave her a small, practiced glance. she did it often, instructing her to breathe without actually saying it.

paige appreciated it. ignored it.

her phone buzzed once on the table. then again. and again.

group chat. family. her brother, maybe, asking if she remembered their lunch reschedule. her mom, probably weighing in on the countertop debate with the same energy usually reserved for national elections.

her fingers twitched toward the phone.

william caught it. “everything alright, miss bueckers?”

she smiled, a slow, flat thing. “peachy.”

he laughed like he was supposed to. ingrid stopped writing.

paige tuned out again. she thought of the house lot. the bones of it. the hush of early morning pressed against her skin. azzi’s voice still lingered in her ears, velvet-wrapped steel: i don’t flirt. i build. her language was sexual in a hidden way, a psycho-phantasmic layering of words that ate your body in the moments when you were alone and could think of her.

paige looked at the window. not through it. just at it. the glass reflected her in pieces. hair up, newly blonde. blue eyes dark and tired. hoodie swapped for a navy knit blazer she didn’t remember putting on. she missed her sneakers.

missed dirt. missed quiet. missed—she barely knew the woman. still, the first impression ran deep, a little too fast to catch.

paige cracked her neck, the pop vicious. “goddamn,” she muttered.

“paige?” ingrid again, this time gentler.

the room had emptied. she hadn’t noticed. her eyes slid to ingrid, who closed the leather folio with a soft snap. she watched as the woman looped the polyester band over the body of her ipad, shutting its violet-colored case with a final, soft ‘plip.’

“you looked like you needed a minute,” ingrid said, already standing.

“thanks.” paige stayed sitting.

ingrid hesitated, then offered, “i’m unsure if you’re up to it, but azzi fudd is downstairs.”

that jolted something loose in her. not nerves. something cellular. like her blood shifted direction.

“in the lobby?” paige asked.

“in your office,” ingrid corrected, and then, almost conspiratorially, “i let her get settled. plus she had a bag of groceries. well—a vintage fox fur birkin of groceries. she brought you plums.”

paige blinked. laughed, small and confused. “like… actual plums?”

ingrid grinned. “dark purple. one already half-bitten. she said you needed fruit, not noise. i’m kind of jealous.”

paige stood without another word. on her way out, she touched ingrid’s shoulder. the younger woman turned, her auburn hair tumbling down the hill of her shoulders.

“maybe i can convince her to give you one.”

ingrid laughed.

paige’s office was mostly glass and light. minimalist and clinical, by design. she never liked clutter. still, sometimes her world got away from her and resulted in an impressive mess. she felt dread as she realized it was one of those times.

azzi was bent against the windowsill. she hadn’t touched a chair. she never did unless invited. her body moved like it always did—controlled, efficient, and humming with withheld energy. a saw that never needed to be against wood to prove its sharpness.

her outfit was issey miyake—a voluminous, sculptural black pleated mock-neck top that swirled around her torso with every breath. the pants, a tepid, banana yellow that warmed her skin, whispered across the floor. it appeared effortless, but was also clearly precise, carefully chosen to avoid any unnecessary fuss. her braids were tugged into one large plait, tied by a creamy, ivory bow sitting low at its end.

the bite of her perfume was softer this time—an amber lead, gardenia sandwiched between dripping honey and that same sticky, wet peach. spiced and rounded. in her hand: a plum, bitten once. the skin split like velvet, the flesh inside red and glistening.

“did i catch you at a bad time?” she asked.

the question was innocent, devoid of the typical ingenuity it held when asked by people who didn’t care about bothering her.

“nah,” paige said. “just in the middle of losing my shit.”

azzi offered the plum. paige waved it off. azzi shrugged. took another bite, her teeth flashing quickly.

“you’re doing too much,” she said between chews.

“you sound like my mother.”

“i sound like someone watching a client she kind of likes spiral for no reason.”

“kind of likes? there’s hope for me after all, huh?”

azzi snorted a laugh, her lips curling wide and fruit-stained. god, paige wanted to eat her. the thought was so surprising that paige choked in the middle of her next sip of water.

azzi’s eyes darted around the clutter of paige’s desk, politely ignoring the rising red of paige’s skin as the executive coughed. papers were sprawled across it in chaotic arrangements. aftermath, fragments of a brainstorm that never really took off.

her gaze was quiet, absorbing. a beat passed before she stepped forward and nudged aside a few of the design magazines and mock-ups that paige had been staring at like they held the answers. the silence stretched between them, thick but not heavy. azzi set her plum gently in a glass dish like it mattered. her fingers skimmed a stack of fabric samples that had appeared in the last week, all neutrals and beige-on-beige.

she didn’t say anything. just swept the whole stack into the trash.

“i appreciate you redoing the questionnaire for my firm,” azzi said, staunchly ignoring paige’s open mouth, “but it still felt inauthentic. there are other people in your ear. shut them up.”

paige blinked. “that’s not—”

“you’re not getting anywhere,” azzi continued, her tone light but the words cutting through the noise, unbothered. “you’re too tangled in everyone else’s version of what you should want.”

“okay, first of all—” paige tried again.

“you don’t want any of it,” azzi cut her off again. “i can hear it in your voice every time you talk about this house. it’s all noise. white noise in a dentist’s office.”

she picked up paige’s tablet and placed it in front of her.

“you will live in this. so start easy. and alone,” azzi said. “find something you like. you called yourself an ipad kid. so, maybe look on pinterest again. tunnel vision, just yours. email me when you’re done.”

“what if it’s still not me?” paige said finally.

“i’ll tell you. i’m capable of emailing you back.”

paige didn’t speak. just stared at her. at the braid thick against her back. the faint pink smear of plum on her thumb. the steadiness of her. the kind of woman who knew how to be still, who could hold paige down.

“you drive me crazy.”

the confession slipped out, but azzi didn’t mind. it was good—something paige wanted.

azzi looked up from beneath her lashes. paige liked that she was taller than her, that azzi would slot under her chin if they hugged. she watched as the other woman sucked in her bottom lip, rolling the skin beneath her teeth before letting it go.

“you’ve only met me twice,” was her response. then she was gone.

paige stood there. still vibrating from the closeness. still aching with something she couldn’t name.

ingrid, the ever-astute assistant, appeared in the doorway. she glanced at paige, then at the space azzi had left behind.

“i’m glad you picked her,” ingrid said with a knowing smile, her voice light, almost teasing. she left, closing the door with a gentle click.

the plum in the dish caught the light.

paige sat. picked it up and put her mouth around it, sucking azzi into the space behind her teeth.

it was sweet. her thighs clenched.

she put it down.

opened pinterest.

typed slowly, as if it mattered: big windows.

.ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

things got easier for a while.

the next questionnaire paige filled out garnered nothing but a short email back. “good. more like you.” paige had grinned to herself, tossing her phone onto her nightstand with a little wiggle of victory. she figured she was finding a way to fit into the flow of things, by taking on this project.

so, she called up her parents. despite them living separate lives now, she wanted both of them there. her mother was ecstatic, so much so that paige held her phone from her ear with a grimace before putting the woman on speakerphone for her health. her father was less enthusiastic but promised to show. paige let it be enough.

but fuck if she wasn’t perfect at being self-destructive because thirty minutes in and paige wanted to slit her own throat. it was all turning into a bright blur. paige couldn’t remember half of what had been said by now, her mind swirling with the push-pull of her parents’ well-meaning but suffocating expectations.

they’d stood there in front of the lot, her dad pointing out ideas that sounded more like demands, his voice firm and authoritative, as if he could will the house into being by sheer force of will. her mom was quieter, watching the land with an expression that was half curiosity, half concern like she was seeing something paige couldn’t.

nothing felt right, despite how much paige liked it. the house, the project, it all suddenly felt like it was slipping through her fingers, and every suggestion from her parents only piled more pressure on her chest. every detail seemed to make her feel smaller, her ability to control anything vanishing in the shadow of their expectations.

she redid her bun for the sixth time, and her dad caught sight of her fidgeting only to push harder, talking about how this was going to be her legacy.

"you just want this to feel like you, paigey," he had said, but it sounded more like a reprimand than anything else.

“it does, dad. i like it. doesn’t that matter? why the fuck are y’all so invested anyway?”

“paige, don’t speak to your father like that,” her mother said absentmindedly, flashing her a look.

paige scoffed. her chest tightened and her breathing went shallow. the wide open space of the lot, the unfinished house—it threatened to swallow her.

"i gotta go," she muttered, turning away.

her mom called after her, but paige was already walking. she didn’t get very far before someone was beside her. she turned slightly, blue eyes catching on brown. minutely, her body relaxed in the face of azzi’s immovable calm. the woman didn’t say anything for a moment, just reached down and grabbed paige’s hand.

“come with me.”

it wasn’t a question. where else would paige ever go?

azzi's g-wagon truly was a tank of a car, dark green and unassuming, with a subtle sheen like it was meant to be a part of the landscape rather than stand out. the inside smelled of black cherry, and a pink-capped sonny angel dangled from the neck of the mirror.

it hummed quietly in the makeshift parking lot, parked off to the side like an afterthought. the house was in the distance, looming like a skeleton in the desert, half-birthed and still waiting for life. loomed, yes, but it had lost its monopoly on paige’s attention. what held it now was the woman sitting next to her, and the way she swayed to the soft music from the car’s stereo playing in the background.

the sun was starting to dip lower, but the light was still warm, flooding the space between them. azzi sat self-assured and uncompromised as she drove, the side of her face warm, almost covered in flame by way of the dying daylight. her curls were out, the braids undone momentarily for the time being. paige wanted the image of her burned into her mind forever, the heat of her desire so potent that it threatened to turn her brain into a pink molten mass; a pulse of nerves and pain.

they only stopped twice: once to pick up food and again, to sit and eat.

paige leaned back into the seat, her legs stretching long across the bench, the worn denim of her patchwork jorts fraying at the edges. her hair was falling from its messy bun, stray strands falling against her forehead as she absently picked at the edge of a fry, her eyes flicking between azzi and the world around them.

the trunk had been opened to create more space, the seats put down as well, and warm summer air gently invaded the backseat. a tangle of takeout bags sat between them, food half-eaten, the quiet hum of the forest just outside the window. azzi had driven them to a park but had made no effort to get out and join the throng of people in the center of the green.

she made it clear the car was their fortress, and everyone else must stay out. paige was grateful. she needed the boundary.

"tell me what’s holding you back," azzi said quietly, her eyes fixed on the grass ahead, though her hand was resting lazily on her thigh, fingertips drumming against it as she waited for paige to answer.

she was in stark contrast in her white scoop-neck halter top, her body leaned back a little too, like she was trying to make herself comfortable, but paige could see there was something tight in her posture. she had on low-rise jeans—old school, real low-rise that cupped the moonish curve of her hips—and they fit her perfectly, baring the cool jewel of her belly piercing every time she shifted.

paige couldn’t help it, her gaze lingering on the way azzi’s hips moved when she shifted, the soft line of her stomach that made paige’s heart skip a little each time she saw it.

paige chewed on a fry, squinting slightly out into the world, pretending to consider the question before shrugging. “i don’t know. i guess… it’s just a lot, you know? like, what if i can’t make it mine? what if i can’t figure out how to feel about it?”

azzi nodded, her profile sharp in the half-light, and paige noticed the tension in her jaw, the way she softened her gaze when it shifted back to her. “with what i saw of your parents, i imagine it can feel like a pressure cooker. you were right to ask why they are so…invested.”

paige snorted. “i’m a brand, ma. it’s about the pictures of my house, not the living in it.”

azzi said nothing of the pet name, but her eyes flickered to paige’s face. they were so dark and wide, a deer’s gaze from the middle of the road.

"you’re slowly getting into it though,” azzi added after a moment, her voice low. "there’s been a change. you were… distant before. but now? you’re letting it in."

paige looked back at her, meeting her eyes over the cardboard box housing her boneless wings, something wry pulling at her lips. she laughed lightly.

"mm, i’m gettin' more into something alright." she let the words hang in the air, a playful grin creeping up on her face. "but it ain’t the house."

azzi’s eyes widened just the slightest, and paige caught the moment before she could hide it. a small flush appeared on azzi’s cheeks, the softest blush of color. she tried to laugh it off, but paige felt the power in it—felt like she’d just forced a crack in the calm.

"okay, paige. do you always flirt like that?" azzi asked, voice not quite steady. she looked away, her lips tight, but there was an undertone of warmth underneath it. like she didn’t know whether to be annoyed or charmed.

paige chuckled, reaching for another fry, but keeping her gaze on azzi.

"nah," she said casually, "but you do something to me."

azzi scoffed, shaking her head in a way that was both endearing and disarming. "you know what they say. too much confidence isn’t exactly good for you."

paige couldn’t help the grin that pulled at the corner of her mouth. “i’m good with it, trust.”

the air between them thickened, charged, in that brief second before they both turned their attention to the bags of food between them. azzi let her breath out slowly like she was trying to regain control of herself, but paige could tell—she’d gotten under her skin.

she felt an electric wave ripple through her. this could become addictive.

azzi shoveled a spoon of quinoa and grilled chicken into her mouth, her cheeks bulging adorably.

"so," paige said, popping a fry into her mouth, "you’re telling me you don’t sneak a little unhealthy snack every once in a while?"

azzi shot her a sideways glance, eyes flicking to paige’s takeout container with a raised brow. "i don’t know what you’re talking about," she replied, but her voice gave her away.

"you really don’t think i’m noticing how you’re eyeing my wings?" paige teased, leaning forward slightly, her chin resting on her palm. "you’re practically drooling over them, ma. and i don’t blame you because that," she pointed a fry at azzi’s chicken bowl, “looks like it hurts going down.”

azzi laughed, her eyes widening as if she were surprised by the sound of her own joy. it was a good sound—soft and easy. paige smiled and added another tally to the scorecard in her head.

paige: 2 | the most beautiful girl in the fucking world: 0.

"i don’t know what you mean," azzi repeated, though her eyes flickered to the box again.

without waiting for permission, she reached over and stole a wing, taking it in one fluid motion, her fingers brushing against paige’s hand. the touch was fleeting, but it landed somewhere deep in paige’s chest. she froze for a moment, and then, almost without thinking, she giggled.

"you’re sneaky," paige said, mock exasperated, though her voice softened when she said it.

azzi bit into the wing, a little too casually. she was pretending it was no big deal, but paige could see through the act. azzi was revealing herself through this act.

"you’re not even a little mad?" azzi asked, her voice lighter as though she was testing the waters.

paige glanced at her, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"i’m mad, but i’m also gonna let it slide," she said, leaning back again. she felt a grin tugging at her lips. "i’m just gonna remind you every time we’re together that you owe me, alright?"

azzi smiled then, a small thing that barely touched her lips but made something warm web through paige’s chest.

"i’ll make it up to you," azzi said, voice velvety. paige could tell she meant it.

there was a long pause, and for a second, paige was lost. the world around them felt muffled, like they were in their own bubble, floating in the warm glow of the late afternoon. paige found herself leaning in, watching as azzi wiped her mouth. she propped her elbows on her knees as she spoke, her voice quieter now, more serious.

"i think… i think i’m scared. of this whole thing. i’m scared of what happens if i let myself care about it. about the house. about the project."

“why?” azzi asked, her tone careful.

“before, when i lived on my own in my ‘bachelor pad’,” paige rolled her eyes as she said it, “i don’t know. it felt like a good barrier between the public and my life. with this house, as stupid as it sounds, i feel like it's going to open up more opportunities for people to feed on me. it’s going to be headlines about me purchasing and building, speculation about the next steps like kids and marriage, and shit. ‘why is the condo not enough? you know?”

azzi hummed, still leaving room for paige to speak. she set the finished wing down in the container, reaching for her water bottle, but not looking away from paige. she was listening—really listening.

“then there will be the interview requests. the architectural digest tours, the vogue spread. like fuck.” paige drew the curse out and azzi shifted as she did, her stomach surging with heat at the growl of it. “i hate the media, az. i hate it. i hate talking.”

"i think you’re scared of a lot of things, paige," azzi said quietly, her tone more serious than before. “but you have more control than you think. an interview request is a request, not a court order.”

she looked at her, her gaze needling deep into paige’s skin. she could feel the puncture, but there was no pain. only release.

“you don’t owe anyone anything.”

paige swallowed and closed her eyes. she shifted in her seat, uncomfortable at the feeling of being seen so closely. she shook her head slightly, trying to push the feeling away.

“it’s not that easy.”

azzi made a noise of disagreement, and paige opened her eyes. “most of the time, it only feels that way.”

for a brief moment, their faces were close, too close, the air between them crackling with something unspoken. paige didn’t know when they had moved closer, but she didn’t want to move away. azzi was perfectly still, lips parted slightly, and for a moment, paige swore she could feel the weight of the entire world resting in that space between them.

then a child’s yell tore into the silence, and the spell broke.

“you like to give me nicknames,” azzi said lightly, beginning to clean up their meal. “ma, az. i didn’t know we were so close, ms. bueckers.”

paige shot her a knowing grin as she hopped out of the trunk and stretched.

“you’d complain if you hated it. i don’t think you’re the type to not say shit.”

azzi blinked, her face flushing with a mixture of surprise and something else. it was that familiar pull from before, the one that made paige’s heart run that race, send that thread through the needle.

"you're impossible," azzi muttered, but the softness in her voice told paige that it wasn’t an insult.

paige felt a small victory then, a little spark of something inside her. azzi liked her. and that felt like something.

“come on,” paige said, her voice thick with affection. “i’ll drive back.”

.ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

the sky was ink-dark when paige next turned into the driveway, her headlights sweeping across what was no longer just a skeleton. the house had skin now—walls and windows and the beginnings of a life. she killed the engine and sat for a moment, letting the silence settle around her. no elevator music. no neighbors' footsteps. no security guard nodding hello in the lobby. just… stillness. maybe this was what the whole house thing was about.

her flight from san francisco had been delayed twice. the flagship launch had gone well, honestly better than expected, but she'd spent the entire day surrounded by people wanting pieces of her: reporters with their hungry questions, investors with their anxious eyes, and fans with their phones already raised for selfies. by the time she boarded, her smile felt painted on.

but the closer she got to home, to azzi, the more settled her blood felt in her body. and now, stepping out of her car, paige felt something give and fall through her.

the house was dark except for a faint glow coming from somewhere inside—probably the temporary construction lights. she hadn't expected anyone to be here. she’d only wanted to come on her own, see it before she went to sleep. feel it, feel azzi, before she went to sleep. her key slid into the new front door lock, and the sound it made was satisfying in a way she couldn't quite name.

inside, the smell of fresh paint and sawdust hung in the air. most of the rooms were still unfinished, but they had walls now, and the concrete floors had been poured. her footsteps echoed as she moved through the entryway, following the source of light. a trail of tiny splatters—paint, probably—led toward the kitchen.

that's where she found her.

azzi was lying flat on her back in the center of what would be the kitchen, arms extended slightly from her sides, eyes closed. she looked fowlish, a bird trapped in the act of flight. the construction light cast long shadows across her face, catching on the high points of her features.

she wore faded jeans rolled at the ankles and a once-white tank top now streaked with gray-blue paint that matched the swatch on the adjacent wall. the same paint had somehow found its way onto her skin—a streak across her forearm, another on her stomach where the tank top had ridden up slightly.

paige stood in the doorway, strangely afraid to break whatever spell she was under.

"i can hear you breathing," azzi said without opening her eyes.

paige smiled despite herself. "that's low-key creepy."

"the house told me you were here."

"now you're just fucking w’me."

azzi's eyes opened then, finding paige's in the dimness. "maybe a little." a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "how was the launch?"

paige sighed, dropping her bag near the doorway. "exhausting. successful. the usual."

"congratulations, paige."

paige felt her dna rearrange as azzi said her full name, as she took in the way her sweet mouth moved around it and pushed it out.

"thank you, az."

silence settled between them, comfortable rather than strained. paige moved closer, sinking until she was sitting cross-legged beside azzi's prone form. she let her hand rest lightly on the cool concrete, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from azzi's skin without actually touching her.

"what you doing?" she asked, nodding toward azzi's position on the floor.

"what you hired me to do, bueckers. working." azzi's eyes drifted closed again. "the kitchen needs a skylight."

"is that right?"

"mm-hmm. the overhead light we planned won't work. too…" azzi gestured vaguely with one hand. "artificial. morning light should come from above in a kitchen. you'll want that when you make coffee."

paige snorted. "bold of you to assume i make coffee."

"you will, here." the certainty in azzi's voice sent something warm through paige's chest.

"how do you know that?"

"the house tells me things."

"you're so fucking weird." but paige was smiling as she said it, her fingertips inching closer until they just barely grazed the side of azzi's hand.

azzi opened one eye, the brown of it piercing even on its own. "lie down."

"what?"

"lie down, paige."

paige hesitated only briefly before stretching out on the concrete beside azzi. the floor was cool and hard against her back, but not uncomfortable. above them, the ceiling was still exposed in places, wooden beams intersecting with electrical wiring. she watched it swing, never looking away as she let her arm press against azzi's, skin to skin, the contact electric even through her exhaustion. she felt azzi press back, her body shifting to apply equal pressure.

"close your eyes," azzi instructed.

"we meditating?"

"we're listening."

paige closed her eyes with a loose grin, feeling slightly ridiculous but willing to play along. for a while, all she heard was their breathing and the occasional creak of the new structure settling. her awareness shifted to the places where their bodies connected—shoulder to shoulder, the sides of their arms, the occasional brush of azzi's pinky finger against hers.

she breathed in deeply, letting azzi’s smell web along her bones and veins. it was borderline erotic, how the peach note wept all over azzi’s skin and clothes. how the gardenia got stuck, how the cinnamon seemed to crawl and transfer over onto paige. she felt it like ants and her mouth parted, like she would’ve let them in if they were real. she wanted azzi all over, azzi inside of her, azzi all the time.

was this normal? she needed to read the reviews for this firm. or maybe she needed to test out that psychic ingrid was attached to. she’d know.

"what am i listening for?" she whispered finally.

"the house. how it moves. how sound travels. where the light wants to be."

paige turned her head slightly toward azzi and opened her eyes. "where did you learn to do this?"

the question hung between them for a moment. paige could sense azzi weighing her answer.

"my dad," she said finally. "tim. he took me to work with him when i was little."

"he an architect too?"

"contractor. he built things other people designed." azzi's voice softened with the memory. "we'd play hide and seek in the houses before they were finished. empty rooms, no furniture, just possibilities. he'd tell me to hide, and i'd have to listen for his footsteps to know where he was."

the image settled in paige's mind: a small azzi crouched in empty rooms, ears attuned to the subtle sounds of movement.

"i got good at it," azzi continued. "not just hearing him, but hearing the houses too. how sound bounced differently in different spaces. how light moved through the day. i saw the desire for purpose. dad noticed. started asking what i thought about the designs he was building." her lips curved into a smile. "i usually had opinions."

"nah, really?" paige murmured, and azzi's smile widened. her teeth were like pearls.

"once, when i was about nine, we were working on this huge house in greenwich. all glass and chrome, very modern. the owners wanted everything sleek, minimal. but the house didn't want that."

"the house told you that, huh?"

"it did." azzi's tone was matter-of-fact. "i told dad the living room was too cold, that it needed wood, not tile. he thought i was just being a kid, but the next week, the owners came by and said the exact same thing."

"so your dad listened to you after that?"

"he started to. said i had good instincts." azzi turned her head then, meeting paige's gaze. "he died when i was sixteen. heart attack."

"fuck, azzi. i'm so sorry," paige said softly.

"me too.” azzi's eyes glistened, wet and large. she shuddered with the weight of grief, turning her head and drifting back to the ceiling. "but by then, he'd already taught me what i needed to know. it's what made me want to be an architect. to create spaces that speak."

something about the vulnerability in azzi's voice made paige's chest ache.

“i wish it was different. that he’d been here longer, but then again, who would i be?”

paige watched the subtle shifts of emotion across azzi's face, the way the construction light caught in her eyelashes when she blinked. slowly, deliberately, she moved her free hand to rest on azzi's forearm, feeling the goosebumps rise beneath her touch.

"this house speaks to you?" paige asked, her thumb making small circles on azzi's skin.

"all of them do. but this one…" azzi paused, seeming to search for the right words. "this one's been waiting for you, i think. even when you weren't sure about it."

"that's a nice way of saying i've been difficult."

azzi laughed, the sound echoing in the empty kitchen. "you haven't been difficult. you told me yourself—you've been afraid."

the word landed with unexpected weight. paige felt stripped bare by it, exposed in a way that should have made her uncomfortable but somehow didn't.

"maybe," she admitted.

"it's okay to be afraid of how much you may want something. i spend a lot of time that way."

azzi turned onto her side then, propping herself on one elbow to face paige properly. a smudge of paint marked her cheekbone, and without thinking, paige reached out to brush it away with her thumb. the touch lingered, her hand cupping azzi's jaw.

"is that why you keep pushing me away?" paige asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "because i want you?"

azzi's eyes darkened. "i'm not pushing you away."

"you're not exactly pulling me in. been leaving me on read."

"i wasn’t aware we’d been texting.”

“you know what i mean. emotionally.”

i'm trying to be professional."

"and how's that working out for you, ma?" paige shifted closer, the full length of her body now pressed against azzi's side, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing, the subtle tension in her muscles.

the corner of azzi's mouth lifted in a half-smile. "not great."

their faces were close now, close enough that paige could feel azzi's breath against her lips. the space between them seemed charged with possibility, with wanting. it was a raw pause, a silence that held as their bodies communicated chemically. at a primal level, they ached. they needed one another.

paige's hand slid from azzi's jaw to the nape of her neck, fingers threading through the short curls there.

"tell me to stop," paige murmured, her nose brushing against azzi's.

“no, thank you."

that made paige laugh quietly. and it was all the permission she needed.

she closed the distance between them, her lips finding azzi's in the dim light. the kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, but quickly deepened as months of tension dissolved into hunger. azzi's hand came up to curl around the back of paige's neck, pulling her closer.

paige thought of azzi’s plum from that day in her office, of that first split of velvet skin, the sweet flesh inside. azzi tasted like that—like something ripe and perfect finally broken open. a sound escaped her throat, half-groan, half-sigh, as azzi's tongue slid against her own.

azzi let out an odd, fractured mewl as paige rolled them over. now, azzi was on top of her. her body pressed down into paige’s grip, letting the older woman snake a hand down her back and under her tank. she shivered as paige dragged her nails across her skin, her palm coming to rest over the lace cup of azzi’s bra.

azzi loved the way she touched her: urgent, desperate to explore but restraining herself and her necessity until azzi allowed her to break. and azzi would’ve fucked her right there, would’ve let paige suck and lap at the dark peaks of her nipples as her hips bucked.

but it wouldn’t be sanitary or comfortable.

when they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, paige rested her forehead against azzi's.

"been wanting to do that since i saw you barefoot in the dirt," she admitted, her thumb tracing the line of azzi's collarbone. "you got in my fucking blood. you’ve been driving me out of my mind."

azzi smiled, coy and sweet. "i know."

"you know? that's it? that's crazy, bruh."

"i wanted you too," azzi said, her voice soft in the space between them. her fingers traced a path down paige's cheek, leaving a blush in their wake. "but i needed to be sure you wanted the house first. not just me."

paige pulled back slightly, meeting azzi's eyes. "why?"

"because i build homes, paige." azzi's fingers found the hem of paige's shirt, slipping beneath to rest against the warm skin of her lower back. "not temporary spaces. i needed to know you were interested in any sort of permanence.”

"i am," paige said and was surprised by how much she meant it. "for real. i'm, like, really interested."

azzi laughed then, a full, unguarded burst that transformed her face. it was crystalline, an external expulsion of light.

she leaned in, kissing paige again, slower this time but no less intense. paige felt herself melting into the touch, her body responding to every point of contact—azzi's hand on her back, their legs intertwined, the soft press of breasts against her own.

above them, the moon was full, a white eye with no pupil or iris. it stained them silver, bled through where the skylight would eventually be.

.ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

the house was near its end.

the contractors appeared less and less, and the house filled more and more. paige let her mother have free reign on the quality of furniture, sending her a rather massive pinterest board alongside ingrid’s number if she had any opinion that contradicted her daughter’s.

azzi stood by the window in what would be paige's bedroom, her silhouette outlined in late afternoon light. her burgundy sweater caught the golden glow, giving her an almost ethereal quality against the unfinished walls. the black maxi skirt she wore pooled around her feet like ink, making her seem taller than she already was. dust motes danced in the air between them as she turned toward the sound of paige's footsteps.

"i'm thinking maybe the bed should face this way," azzi said, gesturing toward the east-facing window. "so you wake up with the sunrise."

paige leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, taking in the sight of azzi in this space—her space. something about seeing her here, planning and dreaming, made paige's chest tighten in a way that wasn't altogether unpleasant.

"bold of you to assume i wake up before noon on days off," paige replied.

azzi's mouth twisted in amusement, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "you will, here. this room wants light."

"the room wants light," paige echoed, pushing off from the doorframe and moving into the space. "what about what i want?"

azzi looked up at her from beneath dark lashes, her head slightly tilted. "what do you want, paige?"

the question hung between them, layered with meaning beyond just furniture placement. paige moved closer, stopping just shy of touching her.

"i want to know why you chose burgundy today," she said, gesturing to azzi's sweater.

azzi blinked, clearly not expecting that question. "i—what?"

"the sweater. why burgundy? do you like that color?"

a small smile played at the corner of azzi's mouth. "i don't know. i mean yes, but…it felt right."

"and the skirt?"

"are you interviewing me now?" azzi asked, her voice lilting with humor.

paige shrugged, her expression serious despite the lightness in her tone. "if you're gonna be in here with me, i need to know what you like."

"in your bedroom," azzi clarified, one eyebrow arched elegantly.

"in my life," paige countered.

azzi's smile deepened, a shy curve across her face. she turned back toward the window, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the glass. "that's rather presumptuous, isn't it? that i'll be with you forever."

paige moved behind her then, close enough that azzi could feel her warmth but not quite touching. "nah, it's not."

"no?" azzi turned her head slightly, just enough to catch paige's eye over her shoulder. “the amount of times we’ve been together, or gone on dates, still fits on two hands.”

“so? you and me?" paige said, her voice dropping lower. "that's forever."

azzi's breath caught, but she maintained her composure, that same amused twist returning to her lips. "and you know this how?"

paige closed the distance between them then, her chest pressing against azzi's back, hands coming to rest lightly on her hips. she could feel azzi's slight intake of breath, the way her body instinctively leaned back into the contact.

"god, maybe," paige murmured, her expression intense and unrelenting as azzi turned to face her fully. "i just—i just know."

the simplicity of her faith hung in the air between them, as solid and real as the walls rising around them. azzi studied her face, searching for any hint of doubt or artifice. paige gazed back, met her there. finding none, azzi slowly tilted her head back, exposing the long line of her neck in a gesture of surrender.

"my dad used to tell me that there would be times in my life when i’d get the closest that god would ever allow to what i wanted. no matter if it was good or bad. when i did, i had to reach out and hold on, or i’d be fucked over it for the rest of my life. i’d always be full of regret.” she tilted her head, and azzi watched her ponytail dip with it. “i don’t want to regret you.”

paige's lips found the sensitive skin of azzi’s neck, pressing gently at first. then the kiss grew teeth, swelled with intent. azzi's hands came up to grip paige's arms, steadying herself as her eyes fluttered closed. she knew it would leave a mark. blushing and bruising had the same internal mechanisms.

"so certain," azzi whispered, the words vibrating against paige's mouth.

paige smiled against her skin. "always have been. about the things that matter."

azzi turned in her arms then, bringing them face to face. her eyes were serious now, the playfulness replaced with something deeper, more vulnerable.

"forever is a long time," she said softly.

paige reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind azzi's ear, her touch lingering on the curve of her jaw. "not long enough."

the late afternoon light stretched across them, painting stripes of gold and shadow on the unfinished floor. in this half-built room, with walls still waiting for color and windows still missing curtains, they stood on the threshold of something neither had fully expected to find.

"you still have more to learn about me," azzi told her, the words quiet and full. “you still might regret me.”

"i won’t,” paige said. “i won’t, azzi.”

azzi reached up with one hand, cupping paige’s chin as she pulled her down. she didn’t close the gap, just held her there. azzi’s eyes never left her. they were two dark planets, heavy with inescapable gravity.

“i won’t,” paige repeated, her voice decisive. “i know it. like i know my own name.”

and azzi trusted that she did.

#mine ; 🐎.#pazzi fics #pazzi #paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #lesbian #sapphic

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valentinebugzee · 4 months ago

Text

Sonic Boom! Agent Stone AU (pt.1)

(This is kind of an outline thing for the fic I plan on writing in the future btw!!)

Chapter 1 posted!

•On one random Tuesday, a coffee shop named "The Mean Bean" appeared in the middle of town, with no construction and no posters for the place, as if it fell from the sky.

•It probably did since it's sonic boom and all.

•Sonic and friends had different opinions on the place, but all of them went in anyway.

•Sonic thought he wasn't really a coffee guy but it wouldn't hurt to try something new.

•Amy admired how beautiful and modern the place looked, unlike the rest of the establishments in their formerly unnamed village.

•Tails questioned how they had managed to construct a cafe that quickly without anyone noticing.

•Knuckles wondered why this bean shop smelled like coffee.

•Sticks, however...had her theories.

•Upon laying her eyes on the establishment, she started coming up with 50 theories per second; her friends dismissed her to get the plot going.

•Sticks's suspicions didn't subside one bit once entered the shop and made eye contact with a grinning barista with the name tag "Stone"

•What really got Sticks paranoid is how nice and friendly the barista was, and how he was the only person working there.

•Stone served them and said their orders were "on the house"

•Sticks refused to order anything, claiming it was a trap and the food had microchips in it to read the villager's thoughts and know the village's most crucial secrets.

•Right in the middle of Stick's yap session, Eggman initiated a very well-timed attack.

•Cut to Shoujo vision-eyed Stone laying his eyes for the very first time on the village's one and only villain (or the only one that matters)

•He quickly snapped out of it, adjusted his clothes, and cleared his throat, then walked out of his coffee shop to greet the villain.

•He had politely asked Eggman to take the fight somewhere further away from his coffee shop and Eggman surprisingly obliged (not without blowing up in Stone's face ofc) (Stone didn't look like he minded) (He actually looked even more love-struck) (weirdo)

•The fight ended, and the gang went back to the coffee shop, where Stone inquired about the evil doctor who almost blew up his shop.

•That was Stick's last straw; she started screaming about how Stone was a government agent who would doom the entire village if they didn't stop him.

•She ran out screaming when her friends still didn't believe her.

•Girl, get better friends.

•She figured that if she was going to foil the evil government agent's plans she needed someone else helping her, another pair of eyes to look out for the village if the government agent decided that she was an obstacle in his way and kidnaps her to a work in a secret underground trees-that-are- actually-spy-cameras-factory.

•And that's when she found Shadow in a cave that he definitely doesn't live in.

•He reluctantly agreed to help her because he was also suspicious about that guy, not that he cared about the village but he didn't like being oblivious about evil happening on his turf.

•He didn't believe stick's microchipped food theory, but Stone being a government agent didn't seem too far off for him...

•They both had their separate attempts at getting answers out of Stone.

•First was Sticks, she set up a trap.

•ofc Stone fell for it because how else would the story progress.

•She interrogated him as he was upside down hanging from a tree outside her home.

•He denied all claims and feigned innocence, claiming he was just a barista that came from far far away to simply serve people happiness in the form of coffee.

•She opted for more efficient interrogation techniques, she turned around and entered her home to..grab a feather and tickle him idfk

•Once she returned outside she saw the net was burnt to crisp and the human was nowhere to be found.

•Now she's sure she's not paranoid.

•She reported her findings to Shadow.

•Now it was Shadow's turn, seeing how Stone definitely had some special equipment/weapons on him the idea of there being microchips in the food didn't seem too uncanny.

•Shadow showed up to The Mean Bean, Sticks intently staring at him from behind the glass doors (creeping everyone in the shop out)

•Shadow thought he shouldn't interrogate him as that would end up as fruitful as Stick's efforts.

•Instead he chose to just behave as a normal customer, he was the ultimate life form after all, if there was something odd about the food then he'd know (I'm pulling this shit outta my ass okay)

•Just like the badger had described him "Very sweet with an evil aura", and something about trees.

•Stone felt somewhat nervous/awkward towards the hedgehog, so far all his customers were either stupid or friendly excluding the badger that kidnapped him because she wasn't a customer at all)

•The Hedgehog chose a cat muffin, glaring at stone the entire time.

•That was the best goddamn muffin he has ever had in his life.

•He slammed the money on the counter and returned back to a very distraught badger.

•"ARE YOU OKAY?! ARE THE RADIATIONS GETTING TO YOUR BRAIN?! ARE YOU BRAINWASHED?! DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR TRAGIC BACKSTORY?! DID THE MUFFIN DO SOMETHING TO YOU?!"

"Raspberry jam..."

"huh?"

#Zee writing #agent stone #sticks the badger #sonic boom #sonic #shadow the hedgehog #stobotnik #This wasn't about Stone as much as it was about Sticks #the next part will be Stone-centric tho I promise!!#Im open to critiques btw #and questions #and anything #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #knuckles the echidna #miles tails prower #writing

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greynatomy · 11 months ago

Text

worth the wait?

leah williamson x reader

i know i said that i retired from writing but i couldn’t not put one out for a pretty girl’s birthday, even if it’s a bit very late. happy birthday @totaly-obsessed <3

also credit to the show ‘scorpion’ for a bit of the plot and dialogue. it’s what inspired me to write this

———

The last three years was nothing short of a roller coaster. You moved to England from your small apartment in New York to work for the government — after being caught hacking into all their data, only telling them that you’d tell them exactly how you did it and wouldn’t be charged with anything.

In the first couple of weeks of getting settled in your new place, you’ve been going to the same little diner every single day. The diner was busier than normal, but you still took up a whole table to yourself, folders littered on top as you typed away on your laptop.

You didn’t mind how busy it was, all in your own world until a figure slid into the booth right in front of you. You look up, eyes blinking rather quickly.

“Uh, I don’t know you. Why are you sitting there?”

Shocked by your words, she spits out a venomous apology, sliding out of the booth.

“I can see by your facial expression that you aren’t rather pleased by how I talked to you. People have told me that I have a very low EQ and don’t know how to deal with… emotions because I do not feel as one normal human does.”

The woman sits back down in the booth in front of you, face now showing an amusing expression.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/LN.”

“Well, Y/N, it’s interesting to meet you.”

“It’s interesting to meet you too.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence as you kept staring at her. She shifts in her seat, not knowing the reason for your stare.

“You never told me your name.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh! Sorry, it’s Leah, Leah Williamson.”

“Okay.” You give her a tight lipped smile, going back to your work.

Leah was unsure of what to do. All she knows was that she saw a pretty girl in a crowded diner taking up a whole booth and next thing she knows, she’s sat across from her.

As she works up the courage to start a conversation, she’s lightly shoved deeper into the booth.

“Jen has a case for us so pack up.” The person is gone before she could steady herself.

“I apologize for Natalie’s demeanor, but this is urgent. Goodbye.”

Both of you didn’t know, but that would be the start of a very complicated relationship. The pair of you have gotten close over time, you even going to games to support her even if it’s not your favorite place to be.

You’ve also gotten close to some of Leah’s teammates, well you tried to keep your distance, but they keep popping up beside you.

“When are you gonna ask the skipper out?”

You were currently doing a crossword puzzle — not really a puzzle because all the answer were much to easy for your very smart brain — when one Katie McCabe came up to stand next to you after the game.

The team had just won against Aston Villa and are getting showered and dressed before leaving the stadium.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on man! Stop being a wimp and ask her to dinner.”

“Right now?”

“Yes! Right now!”

Standing by the locker room, you wait for the blonde to make an appearance.

“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” She walks up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling you into an embrace.

“Of course. You gave me tickets and- and you’re playing. You played great by the way.” You stutter a bit, always getting taken aback when she hugs you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Hey, uh, listen. May-maybe you’d want to—”

“—Hey, Leah!”

Your words were interrupted when a girl who had on gear from the opposing team walked up to where you stood with the girl mentioned.

“Jordan! What’s up?”

“Just wondering if you were still up for later?”

“For sure.”

“Okay! It’s a date!”

“It’s a date.”

Watching her walk away, you were frozen. Your plan was now thrown out the window.

“What were you saying?”

“Oh, just that I am, uh, going now. Goodbye.”

You turn your heels and speed walk your way out of the building, leaving a confused Leah behind.

Heating footsteps catching up behind you, you see Katie beside you.

“So? How’d it go?”

“Great, in fact. She has a date.”

“That’s amazing!”

“With Jordan.”

“Wait, what?”

You didn’t say any more, hopping into your car and driving off.

The Arsenal women hadn’t seen you in a week since you told Katie about Leah’s date. No one bothered to ask Leah because one; they didn’t know how to approach the situation and two; you asked them not to say a word.

You were stuck in your apartment as far as anyone knew, locked yourself away from everyone and everything other than your work and coworkers.

Leah and Jordan’s relationship didn’t last long, couple months at most and everything was mostly back to normal between the two of you.

As much as Leah’s friends love and care for Leah, they grew fond of you too and didn’t like how she was treating you like some second option.

Of course you were completely oblivious, emotions are difficult for you to understand, not knowing why people keep telling you to be cautious with your heart.

Going into year two of knowing Leah, you’ve been to your fair share of dates of your own. Failed dates are what you would say they were because they never understood how your mind works/never took the time to understand you.

“Hey, mate! It’s good to see you!”

Turning around, you spot Katie with a shopping basket of her own.

“It’s been a while since you’ve come around.”

“I have been very busy as of late.”

Before Katie could say a reply, she was interrupted by a familiar person.

“Hey, Katie! Did you happen to already grab the tomato sauce?”

Leah Williamson in all her glory, except she wasn’t alone. Your eyes tracing her figure from her eyes all the way down her arm to where her hand was, clasped with another.

“Y/N! Didn’t expect to see you here bud!”

‘Bud?’ You thought. ‘A very platonic name to call someone.’

“Leah.” You turn back to Katie. “It was very nice to catch up with you Katie. Goodbye.” With that you walked away.

“What’s her problem?” Leah asked, eyebrows furrowed as she watched your figure become smaller. Katie just sighs, rolling her eyes and also walking away from Leah.

This year was already starting way different from the last. You’ve locked yourself up, not bothering to leave your apartment unless it was for work.

And Leah? Well, she’s been preoccupied with her new relationship, pushing you off to the side once again.

You were spiraling, not that you knew, not understanding what you were feeling so you hopped in your car to go for a drive.

Gripping onto the steering wheel with tears streaming down your face, you step on the pedal harder, not aware of anything around you. Next thing you knew, all you saw was black.

Back at the warehouse, Natalie was wondering where their leader could have gone, surprised how you weren’t there with them as you’re always early. The rest of the team had no idea where you were so she called the very last person she wants to call.

“Nat?”

“It’s Natalie, Williamson.”

“Uh, Okay. Natalie? Why are you calling?”

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No. Why?”

“Goodbye.”

Leah quickly gets out of bed where her girlfriend laid with her.

“Where are you going?” She asked, only to be ignored, the sound of the door slamming echoes through the house.

“Have you found her?” Was the first thing Leah asks as she barges into the warehouse where the team, minus you, gathered.

“You are not welcome here.” A man walks up to grab her arm.

“Let go of me. She��s my friend.”

“Some fucking friend you are then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

The arguments escalate, voices are being raised not noticing a figure walk through the door on unsteady feet.

“What is with all the shouting?”

That’s when they see your disheveled face, eyes bloodshot from what looks like crying. It was silent for a moment before they all started shouting again, this time directed at you.

“Where have you been?”

“We’ve been trying to reach you for so long!”

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“Shhh! You’re all too loud, thank you.”

Leah stomps over to you, grabs your hand and pulls you up to your room.

“Why are you trying to pull my arm out of its socket?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes? You were pulling too aggressively.” You state, walking to your closet to grab a new shirt.

“Everyone was worried about you.” You exclaims, hands waving to show how angry she is. “I was worried about you!”

“You were?” You ask, your fingers stopped buttoning your shirt halfway up.

Taken aback at your confused expression, she carefully steps towards you, trembling hands helped you finish the last buttons of your shirt.

“Of course I was! You’re my best friend.” She runs her hands from your chest, past your neck, resting on both of your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothingly.

“If you are, then have you noticed this is the first time you’ve said a word to me in about three months?” Your voice was soft, tears on the verge of falling as you looked into Leah’s eyes.

“What?”

“You’ve not even looked my way when we happen to be in the same room together.”

“What-what do you want me to say here?”

“What I want you to say is why you always avoid me once you get into a relationship? And don’t give me that shit where-where she’s your girlfriend and-and she comes first because I was always pushed to the side with Jordan and now with whoever you’re with now.”

“That’s not true!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. But don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.”

You grab your jacket and walked out of the room, leaving Leah with her thoughts.

The drive home was quiet, the sounds outside of the car muffled. The key twists to unlock the front door, closing it behind her. Walking into the bedroom, she spots her girlfriend who’s sat on the bed, seemingly has not moved from when she left her.

“You okay?” Leah heard the question, but didn’t answer. So the woman pushed. “Where did you go? What happened?”

“Leave.” It was whispered too softly to be heard.

“What?”

“Leave!” Her voice stronger.

“What do you mean leave?”

“I mean leave my apartment. I-I don’t. I don’t know, but I wanna be alone.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“Please.” Vulnerable. That’s how she sounded, almost pleading for the woman to do as she says. Getting the hint, she hastily leaves, grabbing all her things.

Finally alone in her apartment, Leah lets the tears fall, the weight of the day felt heavy on her shoulders.

‘I was always pushed to the side.’ Your voice echoes in her head. Did she push you aside? But she didn’t mean to. Right?

She doubted herself, unsure of what was true or not, even if she was the one who lived it.

Months passed with no communication between the two friends former friends. Well, Leah tried, texting, calling, sending letters and was met with nothing but radio silence. Leah isolated herself. She barely slept, went to training and home right after, not going out with friends to celebrate after a win. If she did go out, she finds herself staring at the entrance, hoping you would walk through.

You were the same.

You stared at the computer screen, eyes flicking from one thing to another. The numbers and letters blurred together, seemingly losing all meaning, but that was okay. Meaning wasn’t the goal. Distraction was.

Your coworkers, your friends grew worried. They could see the dark bags that formed under your eyes, knowing you haven’t been sleeping much.

They never brought up Leah. She was the she-who-shall-not-be-named.

An envelope being placed on the keyboard snaps you out of working, seeing it was addressed to you. Opening it up, you see it was an invitation. A wedding invitation from two of your friends.

‘It was about time.’ You thought.

So here you were, sitting in your seat, which was conveniently right in front of Leah’s. Of course she’d be here. The guests mostly consisted of her friends as this was a teammate’s wedding.

Leah couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, even if it was just the back of your head. The bride stood at the altar, tears falls down her face as she sees her bride walk down the aisle.

At the reception, you stood off to the side, a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people around you.

“Would you like to dance?”

Turning towards the voice, you find yourself standing face to face with Leah and man does she look beautiful.

“I-I don’t know how to dance.”

“That’s okay. Just follow my lead.”

She grabs both of your hands, placing them on her waist as her arms rest over your shoulders.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for months.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t bother replying back? I even sent letters. Who even sends letters to anyone during this time anymore?”

Your purse your lips, not knowing what to say.

“Why? I’ve been trying to-to hopefully right my wrongs, but I can’t do that when you won’t even talk to me.” Leah’s voice held desperation. “I mean you can’t even look at me.”

Your eyes flick up to meet hers.

“Do you remember what I told you the last time we talked?”

‘…don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.’ She nods.

“I was tired of being the second choice. Tired of being pushed aside everyone some other girl catches the slightest bit of attention from you.” You remove your hands from her waist and take a step back to distance yourself a bit.

“I want to state for the record that I am not under the influence of any substance. I’m just stating an irrefutable fact. I pushed you away… because I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since shortly after we met. And I’ve spent years trying to process how that should be handled. Perhaps it’s not something that is supposed to be handled. Maybe it-it’s something that just is.” You take a breath shaking your head, a bit overwhelmed with the confession you just made. “And I-I know you-you don’t feel the same as I do. And that’s okay. But I-I just wanted you to know.”

“Y/N.” Leah says softly, taking a step closer. “I’m in love you to too.”

You lick your lips. “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“I have an idea.”

The married couple decided to sneak away for a bit, finding a supply closet in their venue. Opening the door, their eyes go wide.

“I guess Leah is no longer Voldemort.”

“Close the door.” Leah says, putting the shoulder strap of her dress back in place.

“Hey, guys. Why’d you guys sneak—” Alessia gasps. “What am I looking at?”

“Close the door!” You state louder, buttoning up your shirt, hair disheveled.

“What are you all looking at?” Katie asks walking towards the group, looking into the closet. “Well it’s about damn time.”

“Anyone else want to come by? How about Kyra?”

“What’s up guys?” Kyra comes up, biting into a pastry that was provided.

You both quickly fix yourself up, a bit embarrassed with getting caught. Leah gives them all a stare, her captain stare, to let them know that they need to leave.

Once they’ve left, Leah wastes no time pulling your back in, her lips easily finding yours as she closes back the door.

“Glad Leah got her head out of her ass.” Katie states, walking up to the bar with the group.

“Right!”

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