Beth’s Blog!
18!
she/her
lesbian ◡̈
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(for now i will only be writing for uconn wbb!)
thank you to @yailtsv for the headers! 🧞♂️

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@atimelessheaven
Beth’s Blog!
18!
she/her
lesbian ◡̈
my masterlist!
(for now i will only be writing for uconn wbb!)
thank you to @yailtsv for the headers! 🧞♂️
Stripper reader will be making a return thanks tooo @atimelessheaven
loveeee helping gab gab
@atimelessheaven is my writing muse
she fr just be using my life as inspo. basically her pinterest board at this point
Yall @atimelessheaven is the co author for this sad sob of a fic thats being written rn
ANGELS IM SORRY I SWEARRR I PLANNED FOR IT TO BE A LITTLE PICKER UPPER… i just got carried away with the plot :( please forgive me.
GAB GAB i am VERY VERY sorry for your mental health 💜
update i fear ive made it worse… oops
Yall @atimelessheaven is the co author for this sad sob of a fic thats being written rn
ANGELS IM SORRY I SWEARRR I PLANNED FOR IT TO BE A LITTLE PICKER UPPER… i just got carried away with the plot :( please forgive me.
GAB GAB i am VERY VERY sorry for your mental health 💜
It’s @atimelessheaven asking me to do s comforting pazzi x reader fic… like let me mourn my wife for a bit pazz
My mood in this order
whoops… guilty 😔
baby just needs something to make her feel better (partially at gab gab’s expense (i’m jk i luv u bby) and it will make everyone feel a tiny bit better!!
But I Want You To Be
Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader
Fandom: WNBA- Seattle Storm
Summary: A reckless night leads to confessions neither can take back
🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav , @liloandstitchstan , @kaliblazin , @marleymarleymarleymarley , @latenighttalkinqwp , @gabischeeseballs , @atimelessheaven
It started with a look.
That look Nika gives me when she knows I’m about to do something stupid and she’s trying to warn me without sounding controlling. Brows raised, jaw tight, that subtle tick in her cheek like she’s trying not to say more than I’ll want to hear.
“Y/N,” she said that night, standing in the doorway of my room, arms crossed in a black hoodie I’m almost positive was mine. “Are you really going out tonight?”
I was spritzing perfume and fumbling with my earrings, heels already on, lip gloss shimmering in the mirror’s reflection. “It’s just one night, Ni,” I answered lightly. “I need to blow off some steam.”
“You’ve had a long week,” she said. “But that crew you’re going with? I don’t like them.”
I rolled my eyes and turned toward her. “You’re not my girlfriend, Nika.”
That landed harder than I meant it to. Her expression didn’t change, but I felt something shift in the air between us. Still, she nodded once, sharp and small, then stepped aside.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “Ali želim da budeš.”
And I walked past her, my heart a little heavier than I expected.
The night was a blur—music too loud, drinks too strong, faces I barely knew pulling me into their rhythm.
I tried to laugh, tried to dance, tried to feel free.
But something in me kept tugging, a thread connected to a quiet girl in a dark hoodie who looked at me like she was trying to protect something she couldn’t name.
Two drinks became five. Five drinks became a mistake.
I don’t remember everything. Just fragments—someone’s hand on my back, a voice too close to my ear, a moment of panic when I realized my phone was dying and I didn’t feel right.
I stumbled out into the alley behind the bar, dialing the only number I could with the last 3% of battery I had left.
“Ni,” I mumbled into the speaker when she picked up.
There was a beat of silence. Then her voice, sharp and already moving, “Where are you?”
I heard keys jingling.
Doors slamming.
The sound of her car engine starting.
I tried to tell her, but I was crying now, sinking onto the cold pavement as the adrenaline wore off and the fear hit me square in the chest.qwx
When she got there, I didn’t even have to wave her down. Nika always finds me.
She threw the car in park like it had personally offended her and was at my side in seconds.
Her eyes scanned me—makeup smudged, knees scraped, dress riding up my thighs. I must’ve looked like hell.
She crouched in front of me, hands trembling with rage and worry. “Jebem ti sve, što sam ti rekla?!” she snapped, voice low but heated.
I blinked up at her through tears. “I don’t know what that means.”
She exhaled harshly, grabbing my face gently in her hands. “Glupa si, znaš to? Ali… Bože, volim te više nego što možeš zamisliti.”
“What are you saying?” I whispered, fingers curling in the fabric of her sleeve.
“Nothing you need to worry about right now,” she said quickly, lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing. “Let’s get you home.”
Home wasn’t my apartment. Home was wherever Nika was.
She carried me inside, supporting most of my weight as I leaned heavily against her.
I tried to apologize, voice slurred and shaking, but she hushed me with a look and a soft, “Later, ljubavi. First, you need care.”
She didn’t flinch at the smell of tequila clinging to me. She didn’t lecture me—yet.
She guided me straight to the bathroom, flicked the light on, and began undressing me like I was something breakable.
“Come on,” she coaxed gently, tugging the zipper of my dress down. “We’re showering.”
“We?” I mumbled, barely coherent as the panic returned.
“You can’t stand on your own, baby,” she said, brushing hair out of my face. “I’ve got you.”
And she did.
The warm water hit my skin, but it was her touch that made me crumble.
Her hands were soft, moving through my hair with a gentleness that shattered me.
I cried quietly against her shoulder, hiccuping through my shame and regret.
“It’s okay,” she murmured in Croatian, brushing my cheeks with her thumbs. “Tu sam. Volim te. Sve će biti u redu.”
I didn’t understand the words, but I felt them. Deep in my chest, tucked into the safety of her arms.
She washed my hair, then helped me rinse, whispering things I didn’t understand but clung to anyway.
When we were done, she wrapped me in a towel and carried me to her room.
I sat on the bed while she found a spare t-shirt and sweatpants, dressing me like I was her most precious thing.
She brushed my teeth, tied my hair into two neat braids, and even warmed up soup in the microwave, feeding me a few spoonfuls before I refused another bite and pressed my face into her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, eyes brimming with tears again. “I was so stupid. I didn’t even—”
“Stop,” she said gently but firmly, cradling my face. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”
I nodded, still trembling.
She tucked us both into bed, pulling me close so I could bury myself in her scent, her warmth, her heartbeat.
I whispered one last apology, voice cracking, and Nika held me tighter.
“Volim te više nego što znaš,” she murmured into my hair. “Više od svega.”
I don’t remember falling asleep. But I remember waking up.
The sun filtered softly through her curtains, and the first thing I felt was warmth.
Her arms around me.
My cheek pressed against her chest.
The slow, steady rise and fall of her breath.
Nika was already awake, watching me.
“You’re staring,” I croaked, voice dry.
“You snore,” she replied, smirking.
I groaned and rolled onto my back. “Ni…”
She turned on her side, propping her head up with one hand. “You’re okay?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Just… embarrassed.”
“You don’t have to be.”
I bit my lip. “I feel so bad for calling you. For making you come get me. For not listening when you—”
“Y/N,” she said softly but seriously, “we can talk about it in a little bit. But first, come help me with breakfast.”
Our morning routine was always easy, fluid. She made the eggs while I toasted the bread.
I squeezed oranges into juice and tried not to think too hard about the night before.
We sat close on the couch with plates in our laps, legs touching.
It was silent for a while—just the sound of silverware against ceramic and the occasional sip of coffee.
Then I put my plate down and turned to her. “Can we talk now?”
She nodded, setting hers down too. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” I said immediately. “You were right. That group sucks, and I knew it, and I went anyway. I felt like I had to prove something to myself… I don’t even know what. But you tried to warn me and I just—brushed you off.”
Her jaw tensed again, like the night before.
“It’s not just that you didn’t listen,” she said. “It’s that you made me feel like my care didn’t matter. Like I was overstepping.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” she cut in, eyes softening. “But it hurt. Because I’m not just your ‘close friend,’ Y/N. At least, I don’t want to be.”
I blinked, heart thudding. “What?”
She smiled sadly. “You said it yourself. I’m not your girlfriend. But God, I want to be. And it sucks watching you self-destruct and not having the right to stop you. To protect you.”
“Nika…” I reached for her hand. “You’ve always protected me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”
Her fingers curled around mine.
“I love you,” she said, voice quiet but sure. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”
I swallowed thickly, tears welling again but this time for a completely different reason.
“I love you too. I think I’ve been running from it, but last night… all I wanted was you. Not just to rescue me, but to hold me. To keep me.”
Her breath hitched.
“I want you to be my girlfriend,” I whispered, tugging her hand closer. “Please.”
Nika broke into a smile that made my chest ache. “God, I’ve waited forever to hear you say that.”
We both started giggling, grinning like fools as she pulled me into her arms and kissed the side of my head.
The day melted into soft movies, blanket nests, whispered promises between kisses, and laughter that filled every quiet crack between us. She held me like she had no intention of ever letting go.
And for once—I didn’t want to run.
I wanted to stay.
Right here.
In Nika’s arms.
Where I’d always been meant to be.
■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
-Thank You For Reading!💚💙
-prettygirl-gabi✨️💗
she alwaysss has the best interpretations of requests it’s insane
Sarah no
she’s literally 0 years old
i love blondes.
i didn’t hear one word that came outta that damn mouth
nika muhl with a moody temperamental fem who likes to press her every nerve until she cracks and gets mean in a kinky type of way
Trigger Point
Nika Muhl x Fem!Reader
MASTERLIST | MORE
Summary: You’re a moody piece of work—sharp-tongued, pouty when you don’t get your way, and always poking at Nika just to see how long it takes her to snap.
Word Count: ~ 1.7k
Warnings: SMUT. Emotional manipulation, dom!Nika, bratty/submissive reader, rough smut, choking, degradation, possessive behavior.
Genre: Smut, Angst, Power Play, Emotional Tension
It started with the gum. You knew better than to chew it like that around her—open-mouthed, loud, obnoxious—but something in you enjoyed the way Nika’s eye twitched every time your jaw popped. Sitting across from her in the UConn locker room, legs spread, head tilted like you were innocent, you chewed slow and wide and grinned when her knee bounced faster.
“You good?” you asked, blowing a bubble and letting it snap.
She glared, tying her shoe like it personally offended her. “Fine.”
“You sure? You’re kinda moving like you got beef with the air.”
Nika didn’t answer, but her jaw clenched. You could see it, just under the skin. She looked real pretty like that—angry and pretending she wasn’t. Tall. Mean without trying. You loved pushing her. You didn’t know why y’all were dating, but you’d die before changing a damn thing about the chaos.
She’d been patient this week. Too patient. Letting you get away with little things. You’d “forgotten” to answer her texts. You’d rolled your eyes when she corrected your layup form. You’d flirted, blatantly, with some blonde from the dining hall—short, loud, didn’t even hoop. Not your type in the slightest.
But Nika didn’t say shit. Not then. She’d just watched. Waited. Let it build like steam under the surface. Today, though, you had plans.
You leaned against her locker after practice, towel hanging around your neck. Your sports bra clung tight. She walked out of the shower, hair wet, fresh-faced, and fuming for no reason—until she saw you.
“You’re in my way,” she muttered.
You smiled sweetly. “What’s the Croatian word for please again?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Makni se.”
(Move.)
“Mmm,” you hummed. “That’s not ‘please.’ That’s not even polite.”
“I wasn’t trying to be polite.”
You raised your brows. “Damn. You always this rude after a rinse?”
“Only when I come out and see you.”
“Ouuu.” You laughed, stepping aside like it was your idea. “You missed me, huh?”
She yanked her towel off the hook and ignored you. You could see it again—her jaw. Her clenched fists. Her patience stretching thin.
“So…” you said slowly, like you weren’t about to drop a grenade. “Are you gonna be mad if I say I think I’m gonna go to that party Friday?”
She looked up, stiff. “The one I told you not to go to?”
You tilted your head. “I don’t remember that. When did you say that?”
“Two days ago.”
“Oh. My bad.” You smiled again, too wide. “I don’t be listening when you talk like that.”
Her silence was deadly. You weren’t done.
You walked around her slowly, brushing your fingers along her arm, knowing damn well what it did to her. “You know I saw that girl again today. From the dining hall.”
Nika closed her locker slowly. “What girl.”
“The blonde. The one with the…” You waved vaguely. “You know. The voice. And the eyeliner.”
Nika’s nostrils flared. “I told you she was thirsty. Why the hell are you still talking to her?”
You shrugged. “She funny. And kinda sweet, actually. She offered me a cookie…coconut.”
“You allergic to coconut.”
“I didn’t eat it. I just smiled.”
She stared at you like she wanted to throw something. “Prestani se zajebavati sa mnom.”
(Stop fucking with me.)
You blinked like you didn’t understand. “Huh? Say it again slow. It sounded cute.”
Her voice was low and warning now. “Ne igraj se sa mnom danas. Ozbiljno.”
(Don’t play with me today. Seriously.)
But your smile sharpened. “I like when you speak Croatian. It makes you sound even meaner.”
You saw the shift in her face—the twitch in her cheek, the bite she was holding back. You were winding her up on purpose. Fact-checking her. Talking back. Refusing to listen. Teasing. And now this—speaking her native tongue like a weapon.
“You’re in a mood,” she muttered.
You leaned in close, lips almost touching her ear. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just like seeing you like this. All tense and angry and holding back.”
She stepped away from you, hand clenching the towel hard.
“Nika,” you cooed. “You look like you wanna hit something.”
Her voice dropped. “You’re lucky I don’t.”
“You wouldn’t,” you smirked, licking your bottom lip slowly. “You love me.”
She didn’t say anything. Just stared. And for the first time all week, you saw it—her breaking point. Not soft. Not sweet. Not even loving.
Mean. Just like you wanted. She was getting there.
⚠️IVE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS!! WORK WITH ME!!⚠️
I knew she’d seen the post the second I stepped into our dorm. The energy was different—thick, sour, electric. Like static before a storm. I got in late, same as always, and played it off like I didn’t feel her tension humming through the walls.
I took my sweet time peeling off my jacket, kicking my shoes off like I hadn’t just posted a picture in a cropped tank and barely-there boy shorts with the caption, “Should’ve come over when I asked.”
Nothing technically wrong. But enough. Enough to look single. Enough to piss Nika off.
I was under the blanket, pretending to scroll like I hadn’t done it on purpose. Like I wasn’t still in the mood to play. But when the door clicked open and I heard her drop her keys with a deliberate thud, something in my chest stuttered.
She didn’t say a word. Not “hey,” not “you up,” not even a passive-aggressive comment. Just silence. Ominous and way too calm.
Then her shadow fell across the room. I kept my eyes down, suddenly too aware of how short my sleep shorts were. She walked straight past me, reached down, grabbed my phone off the charger, and—
Clack. Tossed it to the floor.
My mouth opened. “What the fu—” She didn’t let me finish.
A sharp tug and I was yanked straight out of bed, blanket and attitude left behind as my knees scrambled for balance on the cold tile. Her hand wrapped firm around my wrist. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t need to.
I pushed her too far. And still—my heart was racing, thighs clenching, stomach fluttering like I was scared. But not enough to regret it.
“Nik—” I tried, half-laughing, half-bracing for her to pop off. But her voice cut through me like a blade.
“Shut up. I mean not a fucking word.”
My mouth snapped shut before I could blink. Something about the way she said it—flat, deep, that dangerous Croatian tone—knocked all the smartass out of me in one breath.
I didn’t even try to pull away when she dragged me by the wrist across the dorm and into her room, slamming the door behind us.
Maybe I thought I could still be cute about it. Maybe I thought she’d pin me, roll her eyes, threaten to break up with me again for the tenth time this month.
But nah. She didn’t speak.
She didn’t even look at me when she moved to her closet, yanked her old beat-up UConn hoodie off the top shelf, and pulled a belt down from the hook inside.
And that’s when my body went still. Like…oh.
She sat down on the edge of her bed, legs open just enough, and pulled me in again by the hips. I let her. Still acting dumb. Still not believing it. Still smiling, even as she pulled me over her lap like I was a toy.
But then I felt the belt.
She looped it around both my wrists, cool and slow, tugging it tight behind my back. She didn’t even say a word while she did it. Just wrapped, pulled, and fastened it. My hands were locked. Her grip was firm. My brain? Empty.
“Nika,” I whispered, suddenly breathless. “Wait—what are you—”
“I told you not to post that shit.”
Her voice was so calm I wanted to scream.
Not loud. Not shouting. Just disappointment mixed with possessive fury. The type of fury that simmers instead of explodes. That burns.
“You live in this dorm with me,” she said, her hand running up the back of my thigh. “You wear my clothes. Sleep in my bed. Then you get online and act single?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t lie. Not tonight.”
I stopped breathing when I felt her fingers trace the seam of my shorts, lifting the fabric to expose more skin. Her thumb dragged over the curve of my ass like she was planning out a map of pain.
“You like attention so much,” she murmured, nails dragging sharp down my thigh. “We’ll give you some. Maybe you’ll learn something.”
And then—SMACK. My body jerked forward. The belt didn’t budge.
My head dropped forward with a sharp gasp. “Nika—shit—”
She tilted her head, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Count.”
“Wh—what?”
SMACK. “I said count.”
“O-one.”
She hummed like that was acceptable. Not pleased. Not gentle. Just not disappointed for a second.
SMACK. “Two—fuck, babe—”
“I’m not your babe right now. I’m the bitch that’s gonna fix your attitude.” That’s when I really stopped smiling.
Because her hand wasn’t letting up. Her rhythm was slow, spaced out. Just enough time to breathe between each slap—never enough to recover. And with my hands tied, I couldn’t even pretend to be in control. My body twitched against her lap, skin stinging, core throbbing with each hit. And she knew. Of course she knew.
By the time she got to six, I was panting, forehead resting against her knee. Then she stopped.
I blinked. My chest still heaving. She rubbed her hand slowly over the welts blooming across my skin, soothing like she was proud of her work. Her other hand reached up to grip my jaw and force my face up to hers.
“Look at me.” I did. Of course I did. I’d never not look at her.
Her brown eyes were darker than usual. All that rage, all that repressed athlete fury—it was there, simmering under the surface, but channeled now. Controlled. Sexy as hell.
“You wanted to play games?” she said quietly. “You wanted this, right?” My lips parted. But no sound came out. She gripped my jaw tighter.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Good.” She let go, let my head fall back down. “Then take it. And if I hear one more smartass thing come out of your mouth before I say you can speak again, I’ll gag you and double the count. Understood?”
I nodded, dazed. Sore. Dripping. This wasn’t a fight. This was a warning. A lesson. A blueprint. Baby, I was only on lesson one.
@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai
L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore ✨✨✨
@prettygirl-gabi @d1paigebueckersglazer @demie90s @elswhore @atimelessheaven @yailtsv @rawrdoesnotexist I love y'all
are you still writing?
i am! i’ve just been really uninspired lately :/
anywaysss guys send in requests/encouragement and hopefully i’ll get out of my slump soon 🤗🤗
I will and shall not confirm nor deny this statement @atimelessheaven posted
HEHEHEHEHE
Say it again
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader
Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings
Summary: calling Paige “daddy” on Father’s Day live—chaos ensues.
A/N: Happy’s Father’s Day to Daddy Paige……
🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav
“Okay, babes—we are officially live,” I beamed into my phone, setting it upright against a candle jar on the vanity. “Happy Father’s Day to all the dads and dad-figures out there. Especially ours because they are iconic.”
The chat was already blowing up with hearts and comments, half of them saying “Paige sighting when?? 👀”
I laughed. “She’s here, she’s just not camera-ready apparently. Even though she’s been walking around looking fine as hell in sweatpants and no shirt for the last ten minutes.”
From the other room, Paige called out, “Don’t blame me, blame the heat!”
“She’s lying,” I told the chat. “It’s not even hot. She just wants to show off.”
“Don’t hate,” she teased back.
I grabbed my makeup bag and started unpacking products for my “Get Ready With Me” while talking through our day plans.
“So both our dads are coming over for brunch. Mine’s bringing his famous French toast casserole, and Paige’s dad said he’s in charge of mimosas. And yes, we’re doing matching sweatshort sets for family time. Try not to scream.”
Right on cue, Paige strolled into frame behind me, tying her hair up, a glass of orange juice in her hand, wearing grey sweats low on her hips and one of my cropped tees that barely reached her ribs.
Her Nike pro waistband peeked out, and the arm she lifted to tie her hair showed off her toned bicep.
I blinked. Paused mid-concealer blend. Then sighed, dramatic as hell.
“You’re so daddy,” I muttered, more to myself than the chat.
Paige froze. Turned. Smirked. “Say that again?”
The chat went feral.
“SAY IT AGAIN FOR SCIENCE.”
“Y/N. MA’AM.”
“paige is blushing i swear”
“did yall forget this was LIVE??”
I bit my lip. “You heard me.”
“No, no, say it again. I dare you.”
I looked at her, then at the camera, then back at her.
“You’re so daddy,” I said again, grinning.
She blinked slowly, like that rewired her whole system.
Then she walked around to my side of the vanity and slid her hand gently up the back of my neck, the other bracing herself on the counter beside me.
“Say it again,” she whispered, forehead resting against mine.
“Daddy,” I whispered.
She gave me a soft, teasing kiss. Just a little peck.
“You’re so daddy,” I whispered again, giggling.
She kissed me again.
“I swear—” I laughed between kisses, “—you’re gonna make me mess up my eyeliner!”
“Then don’t wear any,” she said, lips brushing against my cheek.
I was giggling so hard my highlight brush shook. “Stop distracting me!”
“Say it again.”
“You’re—so—daddy,” I breathed, laughing.
She was blushing now too, hiding her smile behind her hand like a kid caught passing notes in class.
I turned back to the camera, flustered beyond saving.
“Y’all. Help. She’s being so annoying and also so hot. I can’t multitask like this.”
Paige leaned against the counter, now sipping her juice and smirking. “Happy Father’s Day, baby.”
I looked over at her, heart melting. “Happy Father’s Day to you, daddy.”
The second I said it, she choked on her drink and nearly spit it out laughing.
“Oh my god,” she laughed, covering her face. “You are so annoying!”
“You asked for it!”
She stepped back into frame, fully behind me this time, both hands on my shoulders, her face close to my ear.
“You’re about to say it one last time,” she murmured.
I smirked at the camera. “You’re so—”
“Nope.” Her hands squeezed slightly at my shoulders. “Not the full sentence, mama. Just the last word. Look me in the eyes and say it.”
My heart skipped. I turned in my seat to face her. She leaned down slightly so we were level. Her eyes locked with mine.
I looked from her eyes, to her lips, then back again. Held eye contact.
“Daddy.”
That was it.
Paige didn’t hesitate.
She kissed me deep and slow, both hands coming up to cradle my jaw, like she forgot we had parents arriving in an hour and were on Instagram Live.
When we finally broke apart, I was dazed. The chat was losing its damn mind.
“GOODBYE NOT Y/N SAYING DADDY AND MEANING IT.”
“IN FRONT OF ALL 3,000 OF US??”
“their dads bout to walk in and hear all this 😭”
“girl end the live pls for YOUR sake.”
I reached for my phone, face flushed, laughing like an idiot. “Okay okay—we’re ending this before we get disowned. Love y’all. Enjoy your brunches. And if your partner looks like mine… call her daddy.”
“End it,” Paige muttered into my neck, hiding her smile.
“BYE!”
LIVE ENDED.
Ten minutes later, our phones were vibrating non-stop.
Fan edits were already online. One had dramatic slow motion of Paige walking into the frame to the song “Earned It.”
Another used the clip of me saying “Daddy” on repeat over a beat drop. The comments were already in chaos:
“They did this on Father’s Day… poetic cinema.”
“That crop top and sweatpants combo should be illegal.”
“This is not what my Sunday service prepared me for.”
I turned to Paige on the couch, both of us still blushing.
“You realize our dads are gonna see all that.”
She just grinned, tossing an arm over my shoulders. “Long as you keep calling me daddy, I’ll deal with the consequences.”
“…You’re so daddy.”
She leaned in.
“You’re mine.”
■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
-Thank You For Reading!💚💙
-prettygirl-gabi✨️💗
fun fact: bullying and bribery works on gabi 🧚♀️
@elswhore @let-zizi-yap @yailtsv @atimelessheaven the way yall got me wrapped around every last one of y’all’s fingers it’s sickening
luv u mami
Can you please do a fic where Paige and azzi have a teen daughter
LETTER TO MOM
a pazzi series.
hey guysss! sorry ive been lacking on writing recently:/ finals, and life in general are kicking my ass. but here is this! i’ve decided to turn this request into a little series. as of now im not sure if it will be 2 or 3 parts… maybe more? idk. we will see!
fluff ◡̈
warning: mixed pov’s, probably some grammar errors (please ignore them!), and a mediocre plot. that’s all i think! let me know if i missed any.
enjoy!
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backstory: iris was born in 2027. the year of this story is 2041- making iris 14, paige 37, azzi 36. they have been in the league for 16, and 15 years. paige is still on the wings, azzi plays for the valkyries.
iris pov:
today has been tough.
i woke up late. i slipped in the shower. leaving my ankle all swollen, it hurts to move it. i made a bad grade on my science test, and one of my coaches yelled at me for being “lazy” i was in pain, and i just felt exhausted.
i am exhausted.
i feel like i can’t move.
it feels like i can’t even breath without someone getting mad at me.
life has just been hard.
to top it off i miss my mom.
i could never, and would never admit how much it really effects me. she’d feel bad, and i don’t want to put that burden on her.
since mom, and mama have jobs on two different sides of the country they decided it would be best if i stayed with mama during season, in san francisco.
it’s the longest five months of my life.
sure i see mom every now and then during the season, but it’s just not the same.
sometimes i just want to give her a hug.
have her hold me when i’m sad.
come home from school and tell her all about my day, every little detail.
or when i have something really exciting to tell her, i can’t see her live reaction unless it’s facetime.
that is not the same. not even close.
it’s all just caught up to me. right about now i just want my mom to hold me.
since that’s not possible right now, i’ve resorted to the next best thing-
crying myself to sleep wearing moms hoodie that smells like her, holding my build a bear that has her voice in it.
sure it might seem dramatic, she hasn’t died or anything, but if you were in my shoes, you’d understand.
azzi pov:
iris has been home from school for three hours now, and she’s been awfully quiet.
i mean the girl hasn’t even came into the kitchen to get a snack.
something is up with my kid.
that child is ravenous after school, i need to find out what’s wrong a-s-a-p as possible (hehehehe)
i walk to her room and knock, getting no response.
typically i’d just leave her alone but i just feel off, she’s acting off. so i go in.
when i walk in i immediately just freeze mid stride into her room to access the scene in front of me.
my sweet iris girl asleep wearing her moms hoodie, holding her comfort bear with my wife’s voice inside, a wet pillow and tear stained cheeks.
welp.. my mama heart just shattered.
i walked over and gave her a forehead kiss, taking a picture to send my wife. then left her room.
it’s about 9:00 for paige, but she still responds to the picture i sent her relatively fast considering i know she’s tired after a long day of training and would be going to sleep very soon.
from paige- “well i am now officially going to join her in the crying myself to sleep club. i miss my girls. so sad my sweet baby is struggling with me being away. i feel awful.”
right as i go to reply i hear iris headed into the kitchen where i am, so i quickly respond with a “we miss you too.”
“hi babe, how was school today?” i say as i catch iris having to physically hold her up while she completely melted into me.
“i don’t wanna talk about it.” iris mumbles, voice shakey.
“that’s okay, i’m here when you’re ready. you’ll never be forced to talk when you don’t wanna, but i do need you to recognize mom, and i are always here to listen when you’re ready, okay?”
“i know, i just..” iris began but decided against it, not wanting to be a burden.
“you just what?” azzi said encouraging her to finish her statement.
“i don’t want to be the bitchy teen who complains and makes life difficult when i’m so privileged. i mean i know you and mom have demanding jobs, and that it provides so many cool opportunities, but it’s also really hard sometimes. it’s hard having to travel around to a ton of places back to back, missing school, missing friends, missing the normalcy of a regular quiet life. on the flip side when im left behind with friends while yall go to games i feel lonely, not because i don’t like hanging out with my friends but because i miss my parents. you guys are my comfort people, i couldn’t do it without you. having mom be so far away for so long really takes a toll on me. and i promise you are enough and im not meaning you aren’t, but i just miss mom. i thought it would get easier as i got older having to be away from her, but if anything i think it’s gotten harder. i need my mom. i miss my mom. oh and also my day was just awful in general, and i was thinking about all of that and so i just starting spiraling.” iris says pretty quickly, tears showing in her eyes once again. azzi can tell this has been eating at her for a while.
“okay so how about we go get ready for bed, you can lay with me and we can finish this conversation alright?” azzi says pulling away from iris making her stand on her own.
“okay, but can we not tell mom?” iris asks quietly as they start walking towards azzi’s room.
azzi froze. “well uhm i might have taken a picture of you asleep earlier so she already knows sorta what’s going through your head. if you don’t want to explain it to her i’m not going to force you, but i think she’d like to know what’s going on completely if you’re willing to let her in on it. can i ask why you don’t want to tell her?”
“well i love mom, but i know how she is. you do too. she’s going to feel guilty when it’s not even her fault and i don’t wanna stress her out. iris says looking at azzi
“you make a compelling case, but i want to offer my counter argument. as much as that is true, i think she would feel worse if you didn’t tell her what was bothering you, and she found out it was for her sake. that would make her feel more terrible. also we both know she’s going to ask you about that picture i sent, you can’t lie then. she reads you too well. you aren’t slick enough for that.” azzi says laughing thinking of all the times her daughter has given herself away with her terrible lying skills. let’s just say she shouldn’t play poker, or ever commit a crime.
she laughs along with her mom, “you’re right, i should tell her. i just don’t know how i should. i don’t want her to see me cry, or worse she cries. i’d feel so bad if mom cried over this. mama what do i do?” iris says suddenly panicking at the thought of making her mom cry.
“okay calm down, you don’t have to explain it directly to her, you could write her a letter like you used to do as a kid, i think that would cheer her up. very sentimental, and nostalgic. perfect. she’ll love it, and you don’t have to show any emotions you don’t want to, just write what you want.”
“wait that’s a great idea. i can be like so vulnerable, and she’ll never have to see me cry, and i won’t have to see her initial reaction.” iris says feeling so confident in this idea.
“okay okay, now let’s for real get ready for bed, go lay in my room and watch a movie. how does that sound?” azzi says as she starts walking to her room grabbing iris’ hand to take her along with her.
*about ten minutes later they’re both snuggled up in bed watching tangled*
“oh iris look, paige is facetiming us!” azzi says excitedly as she answers the call, while pausing the movie.
“hi my babies! i miss you guys so much!” paige immediately says as the call connects. “omg iris i saw the cutest dog earlier and forgot to send you the picture i took, i just knew you’d love it.” is how paige started their nightly catch up of their day conversation.
“awww i wanna see the puppy, i wish i could’ve been there to see it in person.” iris replies, lighting up at the idea of a cute puppy. “mom can i get a puppy?”
“absolutely not. iris that would be a disaster. poor thing would either have to travel a lot, or stay behind with a pet sitter. not plausible sadly at the moment. maybe in the future! we can add it to our family bucket list!” paige says letting iris down as gently as possible, but trying to cheer her up in the moment.
“ugh. that’s so unfair, i would take it on walks and everything.” iris says grumbling. azzi just rolls her eyes staying out of the conversation.
“so what were you two up to before i called?” paige says curiously.
“TANGLED!” azzi, and iris respond at the same time.
“i should’ve known, you guys literally don’t know of any other movies.” paige says laughing a little at their excitement
“that’s so not true, we also watch zootopia.” iris responds in a matter of fact tone, like paige had just offended her with the movie comment. she’s very well versed in her disney movies.
“and hamilton.” azzi says agreeing with iris.
“okay, okay i get it. now i say you guys start it over, so we can press play at the same time and watch together!” paige suggests
*approximately 47 minutes into the movie iris was out cold.*
“paige, look.” azzi said getting her attention, turning the phone to show iris sound asleep on her shoulder.
“aww our little baby isn’t so little anymore is she?” paige says smiling at the sight of her peaceful daughter.
“i know. it’s crazy to think that just ten years ago all she cared about was if she could eat candy for breakfast, and wear her princess dresses in public, now she’s worried about our feelings, and feels like she’s carrying the world on her shoulders. i just wish i could save her from everything, especially her own mind sometimes.” azzi whispered to paige, while lovingly looking down at iris, gently rubbing her back.
“i love her just how she is, but i know she’s way too caring for this world. she has so much empathy. i don’t ever want it to hurt her. i just want to protect her from everything. she’s my baby.” paige says agreeing with azzi. “what happened earlier today? why was our baby so sad?” paige asks
“it has to do with her caring too much about our feelings over her own. she didn’t want me to tell you, but i can say you’ll find out very soon.” azzi says.
very soon.