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#anyways it's just something I'm thinking through.
st4rfckerz · 1 day
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Late Night Call | Nerdy!Anakin x Reader
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word count: 1.8k
warnings: MDNI 18+, masturbating (both), voice kink, praise, nerdy!anakin is a whiny little mess.
summary: Your voice is enough to get Anakin all worked up.
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The silence of the night seemed to be swallowing the entire city as Anakin lay sprawled in his bed, staring at the ceiling. With a yawn, Anakin lifted the blocky landline phone off its cradle, the dial tone echoing through the receiver. As he recited the familiar numbers, he couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
"Hello?" a gentle voice answered on the other line.
"Hey, I didn't wake you up did I?" Anakin mumbled into the phone, his voice barely above a whisper. The soft sound of rustling sheets and a yawn came from the other end of the line.
There was a pause before you replied. You knew that voice. "No, you caught me at a good time. What's going on?"
"Oh, well, nothing really I just wanted to talk to you," he stammered, trying to mask his nervousness. "I'm putting off writing this paper too actually," Anakin admits almost sounding like he was ashamed of himself. "I don't know, I just don't feel like its good enough." He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he could feel the small migraine coming in through to temples of his skull.
"Hey, it's alright," your soft voice reassured him from the other side of the line, sending a wave of calm washing over his senses. It was enough to ease his nerves, even if just a little. "You're human, and mistakes happen. You can't expect perfection from yourself all the time."
As the comforting voice continued speaking into the phone, Anakin's breath hitched in his throat. His heartbeat pulsed rapidly in his ears, matching the cadence of the soft whispers. Slowly, the warmth that had started in his chest spread through his limbs, igniting a fire within him. His thoughts raced, his imagination running wild with images of you on the other end of the line, your voice painting vivid pictures in his mind. The soothing voice was a siren song, drawing him in deeper with each passing second.
"What're you writing about anyways?" your voice rings softly through the line. Anakin clenched his eyes shut, his grip on the receiver tightened, as if he could somehow draw strength from the cold plastic. This isn't right, he chided himself, yet he couldn't resist the pull.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, it's about a new tech startup in Silicon Valley, something boring like that." Anakin managed to amswer, his voice cracking slightly. His hand subconsciously rubbed against his crotch, and he discreetly adjusted his pants, feeling the bulge growing bigger. He needed to calm down. Fast.
You hum slightly, the topic taking your interest. "That's sounds intriguing, I'd read it. I'm writing about the use of real fur in the fashion industry." Anakin's heart skipped a beat hearing your reply. Real fur? That sounded controversial, edgy, something that would definitely get you a passing grade.
"Oh, really?" he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you think it's... you know, ethical?"
"Not at all, there's always faux fur y'know?" you scoff. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. This was school-related, he reminded himself sternly. "Well, I mean, if the demand for real fur decreases, the industry will eventually adapt," he reasoned, trying to sound rational. "Plus, there are ways to ensure animal welfare during the process."
"See! You're so good, it's not even your paper and you're already shooting facts." you praise him innocently. God, he could've came in his boxers if he wasn't being so careful. His head was buzzing with ideas of how he might prolong the conversation so that you could carry on speaking. He just needed to hear you voice.
"Thanks." Anakin laughed nervously, trying to deflect the compliment. "So, um... how's everything else been? Anything exciting happening in your life besides your classes?" He couldn't shake the image of you in that little skirt you decided to wear to class the other day, your tits swaying enticingly in the tight sweater you wore. If it was up to him, he would've fucked you in that classroom in front of everyone. His cock twitched in his pants, growing harder by the minute.
"Not really, my roommate's gonna be out of town for a family thing, so I'll have a whole boring week by myself." you explain.
"Oh, really?" Anakin's eyes widened in delight, his heart racing faster than ever. He shifted in his seat, his cock throbbing against his pajama pants "So, uh, want to meet up sometime? Just you and me?" He forced himself to sound innocent, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying his true intentions.
His hand reached down his pants, feeling the head of his cock peeking out from his underwear. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly, trying to calm down. He had to focus on their conversation, at least until she agreed to meet up with him. He inadvertently let a whine slip out of his mouth as he swept his fingers across his sensitive tip.
"Anakin? Are you ok?" you ignore his question. Is he? No, he wouldn't. You think to yourself.
"Y-yeah just keep talking, 'm listening." Anakin stammered. His hand continued to stroke his cock unabashedly, increasing the speed slightly. He was so lost in the mind that he didn't even think about the possibility of you being able to hear the quiet slick sounds coming from his end of the line.
He is.
"Ani, I know what you're doing." you state bluntly. His eyes spring open and his hand slows down its movement on his cock.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't help it, y-you can hang up if you want I just-" he blurts out his words but you instantly interrupt him.
"Why would I want to hang up?"
"What?" Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was sure you'd call him a sick freak and never talk to him again.
"I'm not hanging up," His heart raced wildly, his cock throbbing harder than ever. He couldn't resist your voice. "Does it feel good Ani?"
"Mhm, wish it was you." he admits breathlessly, his fingers tightening around his cock. Anakin's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking about baby." you chide. You could feel your cunt getting increasingly wetter as you continued to speak to him, it makes you squirm as the heat continues to spread through your body.
"Just you, 's always you," he confessed, his voice cracking with lust. "I wanna touch you and taste you everywhere." His hand picked up speed, and his cock twitched violently in his pants.
"You wanna taste me?" you egg him on. His voice sounded so desperate it was almost pathetic.
"Uh huh, I wanna taste you," Anakin's voice trembled with desire. "Everywhere. Mmph- your lips, your neck, your pussy, everywhere."
He couldn't help but wonder how you would sound, how you would taste, how you would react to his advances. His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing violently in his pants. He needed relief, needed you to stop teasing him.
"Are you gonna be a good boy for me Ani?" you whisper, your voice dropping down an octave.
"I'll be anything you want me to be," Anakin panted, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just please keep talking." He couldn't contain himself anymore, his hand moving faster. "I'll do anything you say, just tell me what you want."
"I wanna hear you beg to cum." you demand as you begin to slowly graze your beating clit over your panties, soon dipping your hand underneath them to be met with your soaking cunt. "You're making me so wet Ani." Your fingers swirled little circles against your tiny bud, causing you to let out a small moan.
Anakin groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please, I need it so bad." He couldn't stand it anymore, he had to release the pressure building up inside him. "I'll be good I promise," he pleaded, his voice breaking. Anakin's heart stopped for a moment as he heard the wet sounds coming from the other end. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Mhm, feels so good." you moan as you curl your delicate fingers inside your drooling pussy. His cock jerked in his hand and  his mind filled with images of you fingering yourself.
"Ah- fuck." His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He bit his lower lip, trying to control himself, but his body betrayed him. "I'm close, so close-" he panted. His hips rocked back and forth in sync with each stroke. and he could feel his orgasm building up, he knew it wouldn't be long now. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breathing became shallow and erratic.
"Cum for me pretty boy, I wanna hear you." He couldn't hold it back any longer. With one last hard stroke, he came, his balls tightening and his cock spurting a warm stream of cum onto his blankets. He let out a loud groan, his entire body shaking with pleasure.
You can feel your own orgasm creeping up inside you as you vigorously pumped your fingers into your cunt. "Shit Ani 'm cumming!" you squeal. Anakin's eyes widened, a low growl escaping his lips as he heard you ride out your orgasm. His chest heaved, little beads of sweat trickled down his face as he tried to catch his breath.
For a moment, you both sat there, panting and recovering from your orgasms. Then, finally, Anakin found the courage to speak again. "We should... we should probably hang up, huh?" he said hesitantly.
"I guess we could," you chuckle at his awkwardness. "I'm tired now." Anakin smiled weakly, wiping away the remaining streaks of sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. He looked at his watch, noting the time. "There's no way I'm finishing this paper tonight." He laughs at himself.
"Me neither, I'll do it eventually." you smile at his awkwardness, you always found it cute. "Will I be seeing you in Callahan's tomorrow?" you ask him, hoping he'll be there waiting on you with an empty seat next to his like always.
Anakin chuckled softly, feeling a bit embarrassed but relieved. He quickly cleaned himself up and took in a deep breath. "Yep, I'll be there," he replied, his voice steady once again. "Maybe we could grab coffee afterwards? If you're free, that is."
There was silence on the line before you spoke, but he hoped you'd accept his invitation. He needed to see you again, to be near you.
"That sounds great Anakin." you beam.
He smiled, grateful for the chance to talk to you without all the tension hanging over them. "See you tomorrow, then." he added, his voice friendly and casual.
You said your goodbyes and Anakin ended the call, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. As he hung up the phone, he glanced down at his sticky pants, a small smile playing on his lips. He couldn't wait for tomorrow's class.
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mattslolita · 2 days
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psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( 001. )
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in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.
ghostface!chris x black!fem oc
warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc
"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
in the comfort of charmaine's home, she sat on one of the bar stools at the end of the small kitchen table — her best friends, morgan maldonado and madison filipowicz were both with her, but occupied with separate things; morgan was on the phone with who charmaine assumed was her boyfriend ( unless she felt like cheating on him ), and madison was busy making popcorn for the film they were going to watch.
"hey char, what happened to that cheesy popcorn you always have?" madison asked, as she searched the girl's fridge, "there's like, none left."
"i'm gonna be honest madi, i ate it all," charmaine shrugged, as she scrolled through her phone.
madison shook her head, and went back to the fridge, biting down on one nail as she continued searching. charmaine looked over at morgan, who was sprawled out on her couch, twirling her dark hair around her fingers, her face painted with a rosy tint and a smirk plastered on her face. the evans girl frowned, wondering who it was that she was even talking to.
"wow, chris is making you blush that hard?" charmaine teased quietly, and morgan rolled her eyes, waving her off.
"this isn't even chris, girl," morgan whispered to her friend with an eyeroll, "he doesn't really make me blush like this anymore, anyway."
charmaine nodded, but her jaw clenched at the thought of morgan cheating on chris — christopher sturniolo was morgan's boyfriend, who also happened to be charmaine and madison's best friend, too. he had two identical brothers aside from himself, and they were both best friends with the triplet brothers. charmaine has liked chris for as long as she can remember, and it always puzzled her as to how he chose morgan over her. of course, chris never knew this, and she didn't plan on telling him — it was something bound to break up their friendship ( though charmaine knew the triplets longer ).
the smell of butter wafted through charmaine's senses, telling her that madison had put the popcorn in the microwave. the filipowicz girl came and sat down on the counter next to charmaine, a small grin settling on her face. "which horror movie are we watching tonight?"
charmaine grinned back, having always loved that she and madison loved horror movies. "oh, it's definitely a friday the 13th kinda night."
"ugh, we always watch that one," morgan whined suddenly, as she sauntered into the kitchen, her arms crossed, "can we watch the craft or something?"
"can you stop being a hoe and sleeping with every guy who gives you attention?" charmaine sneered, causing madison to snort and hold back a laugh, and morgan to give her an unimpressed look.
"you say that like it's a bad thing," morgan suddenly grinned, causing charmaine to roll her eyes and shake her head, "it's not my fault i'm sex positive!"
"whatever you wanna call yourself, morgan," madison giggled, causing charmaine to stick her tongue out at morgan playfully.
"whatever, friday the 13th is it," morgan sighed, resting her elbows on the counter, "let's play something while we wait for the food."
"what're you thinking?" charmaine questioned, setting her phone on the counter and facing her best friend.
"truth or dare."
morgan grinned, and madison and charmaine shared a knowing look. "girl, is this an excuse for you to just tell madi to make a move with that one girl already?"
madison's cheeks tinted, and she rolled her eyes. "that's not happening, by the way!"
"ugh, fine!" morgan grunted, but she sent madison a pointed look, "you don't even have to pick dare if you don't want to!"
"whatever, let's just play," charmaine said, waving both girls off, "m, truth or dare?"
morgan pretended to tap her chin in thought, then she smirked at charmaine. "dare."
"i dare you to call that one strip joint and pretend you wanna get hired there."
madison's eyes widened and morgan's jaw dropped, causing charmaine to burst out laughing. "what the actual fuck kinda dare is that?"
"it's a good one, don't lie!" madison grinned, pointing to morgan. 
"fine, whatever, i'll do it," morgan said with an eyeroll.
before she could make a move to grab the phone though, it began ringing — the three best friends exchanged a glance with each other, before morgan shrugged and moved towards it. "this doesn't count as your dare by the way!"
"it's probably just steven again," morgan grinned, as she picked up the landline, bringing it up to her ear, "hello?"
madison sat on the counter idly, and charmaine scrolled through her own phone as morgan talked to whoever it was she was talking to ( charmaine wouldn't be surprised if it was another one of her side pieces ). but from the way morgan's eyebrows furrowed, something was off.
"who is it?" charmaine mouthed her, madison raising her eyebrows expectantly.
"i don't even know," morgan mumbled, holding the phone away from her momentarily, "it's just fucking silence."
"here, let me see," madison said, hopping off the counter and going to grab the phone from morgan, "hello?"
but madison was met with silence as well, causing all three girls to share a look with each other. finally, charmaine shrugged and walked over to the phone, taking it from madison and holding it up to her ear. "hello?"
"hello? who's this?"
charmaine's eyes widened, causing morgan and madison to watch closely. "who're you tryna get to?"
"i don't know," the voice said, and charmaine felt a chill down her spine. it sounded much too deep to be normal, but something about it was highly attractive.
"well, you better figure it out," charmaine said, "bye have a good night."
"wait, don't hang up!" the voice said, and for some reason, charmaine's eyebrows rose and she didn't, "i wanna talk to you."
"yeah, they got like, five hundred numbers for shit like that," charmaine said, shaking her head, "see ya."
charmaine hung the phone before they had a chance to reply again, and both girls looked at her curiously. "so who was it?"
"i don't even know, some weirdo saying they wanted to talk to me," charmaine shrugged, and morgan grinned at the girl.
"well it's about time somebody wants to talk to you," morgan snickered, "you need to get a man."
"morgan, shut the fuck up," madison said, crinkling her nose and slapping the girl's shoulder, "she doesn't need to get anyone. just because you fucked half the school behind chris's back, doesn't mean everyone wants to do that same thing."
morgan's jaw dropped at what madison had said — truth was, morgan was always knocking charmaine for not wanting to just get with anybody randomly. she would take a dig at her about that stuff around charmaine and all her other friends too, which really upset her, being that she was supposed to be her best friend; charmaine guessed madison just finally got tired of it.
"wow, madi, didn't know you had the capability of being mean to anyone," morgan mumbled, and charmaine snorted.
"talking about everybody all the time just pisses me off," madison shrugged, turning to give charmaine a smile, "especially when it's about my girl."
before charmaine could respond to madi, the phone rang again, much to to her disappointment. with a groan, charmaine picked up the phone once again. "hello?"
"looks like i called the wrong number again," the voice said, and this time, charmaine rolled her eyes amusedly.
"yeah, i guess you did," charmaine sighed, sitting on the counter, "why did you redial it again?"
"to hear that pretty voice," he purred, and charmaine felt her cheeks get warm.
a small smile graced her features as she began swinging her feet back and forth. madison was now in the living room on her phone, and morgan; well, she was somewhere in the house. 
"huh," charmaine said, looking around.
"what's your name?"
charmaine chuckled, holding the phone away from her and looking at it in disbelief. "no way you just asked me that, dude."
"what's wrong with asking your name, pretty girl?" he asked, and for a split second, charmaine's eyebrows furrowed — she felt like she somewhat recognized the voice.
"first of all, i've seen too many horror movies to be telling you my name like that," charmaine said, as the microwave went off, signaling the popcorn was finished, "second, why do you wanna know my name?"
"cause i wanna know who i'm looking at," he said lowly, causing charmaine to immediately jump off the counter.
"what did you just say?" she asked nervously, looking around, seeing madison still sitting on the couch. morgan was still nowhere to be found.
"i said i want to know who i'm talking to," he said humorously, causing charmaine's eyebrows to furrow once again.
"yeah, nice try, that's not what you said," charmaine said seriously, beginning to grow annoyed, "look, find someone else to be all creepy with, i'm done here. bye."
"hang on-"
"it was funny at first, but you took it too far!" charmaine said.
"don't you-!"
before he could get another word out of his mouth, charmaine clicked the line off and set the phone back on its hook with a loud sigh. madison's head snapped up, and she looked up to see charmaine with her hands on her hips.
"everything okay, char?" madison asked, making her way over to the girl, "did they ever tell you who they were?"
"no, just some asshole being creepy as fuck," charmaine admitted, rubbing her temples with both her hands. "i swear-"
the phone rang, yet again.
💌 lil
i giggled when i first wrote this ngl. lmk how y'all like it so far😏.
@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @prettiest-poision @mrssturnioloo @mattsivy @mattsturniolosleftnut @e1ias3 @eyeliketoeatpoosay @breeloveschris @mayhem-72 @l0akkz @summerssover
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carmyboobear · 2 days
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Idk if you've written this but can you write about carmy and the reader arguing and he makes her cry? Idk I just feel like thatd be good angst fluff lol
AHH I got carried away as per usual. anyway this is good stuff. wrote a bunch. enjoy!!
word count: 1.3k
tags: traumatized carmy, mentally ill carmy and reader, arguing, language, HURT/COMFORT, ANGST/FLUFF, carmy being a sweetie
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Hm…i'm spending a lot of time thinking about the set-up for this. Carmy is a very careful person when it comes to those he’s romantically involved in, but at the same time, he has a hard time controlling his temper when he's in the darkness, as i'll put it. 
here's something awful i think about that i wanna write about. carmy's stressed about work, because of course he is. he's carmy. his head is whirring, spinning with anxiety and self-hatred. i think you're just like him. mentally ill for mentally ill if you will. you're also in a bad mood, and he comes home from The Bear exhausted and keyed up.
“I hate when you push me away like this,” you admit. You've been trying to get him to talk to you since he's been home. Maybe he just needs space, but separation makes you anxious. Especially when he shuts down. 
“I'm sorry that it's so hard for you,” he spits, finally snapping and turning to face you. You've followed him into the dark bedroom, lit only by the harsh moonlight through the window. You flinch. You never quite get used to seeing him like this. 
“I—I just—“ you feel pressure beginning in the back of your eyes. You will it away. “How can I help you if you don’t talk to me?”
“Why do you care so much? Does it make you feel better to take care of someone more fucked up than you?” He snaps, voice raised. His words go down bitter, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. Something in you shatters.
“How could you ask me that?” Your vision’s gone hot and blurry. “I’m your partner. I love you, that’s why I care, you asshole!” You’re stifling sobs. You hate crying in fights like this, but it hurts. You can’t help it.
“Fuck,” Carmy mutters under his breath. He’s gone still in your blurred vision. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—“
“That was so fucked up, Carmy.” You move to sit on the bed, trying to wipe your tears away, but they keep coming. “What’s your problem?”
“You know what my problem is.” His remorse has swept away the anger, leaving him quiet before you. He leans down at your knees, hands on your thighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Carmy nods quickly, and he raises a hand to your wet cheeks. “Fuckin’ asshole.”
“I know.” He takes your pain, your anger in its entirety. His other hand brings your knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.“
“Sure sounded like you meant it.” Anger flares up in your chest, hurt and betrayed, but you tamp it down, leaning into his hand cradling his face. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Damnit, Carmy.”
“I know. I know.” He’s still kissing your hand. “You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” You hate it when he talks like this, because you can tell he really believes it.
“Don’t say that. Please.” 
“But it’s true.” You look down at him in the moonlight, at his sad blue eyes. “I always find ways to hurt you. I…”
“That’s what being in a relationship is, Carm.” You pat the space next to you. “Sit with me?”
“I keep having to remind myself of that.” He sinks into the bed next to you. “I’m so sorry for talking about you like that. Like you’re only doing this out of…I don’t know. Obligation.” He drags a hand across his tired face. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I just, I just think that—that I’m—fuck—“
“Slow down, Carm,” you say quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to force it. I’m listening.” He smiles bitterly at you, and you recognize the love in it easily. He takes in a deep breath before continuing. 
“I still have a hard time believing that anyone cares about me. I can’t even believe that you—love me.” You can practically see the shame rolling off of him in waves. “And it makes me scared.”
“Love is scary, isn’t it?” You say softly. He just nods. “It scares me, too. That’s why I kept pestering you when you got home. I…” You blink quickly. You don’t wanna cry again. “It scares me when I don’t know what you’re thinking. Because…I dunno. It just does.”
“Yeah?” You nod. He has this thoughtful expression that he holds for a moment as he stews on your words. “I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry. I think…I think when you kept asking me if I was okay, it…” he sighs, scratches at his temples. “I felt like I was…getting back into a corner. I think.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” You take his hand in yours. “I can see how that must’ve felt really bad.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault that I’m like this. I think—I think it just reminded me of my mom. We would always ask her if she was okay, because she’s fucking crazy, yknow? We didn’t wanna step on her toes. But it turns out we did anyway. And the way I acted just now, I was just like…” He can’t even get the words out. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, voice choked with emotion. “I love you. So much. You know that, right?”
“You tell me everyday. How could I not?” You pull him into a hug, tight and warm, and he instantly wraps his arms around you. “You’re not your mom, Carm. You're nothing like her. Okay?” 
“I don’t wanna be like her,” he whispers. “I don’t wanna be like her.”
“You’re not,” you remind him softly. “And you won’t be.”
Carmy leans back to look at you, but he remains close. His expression is knotted with pain. You run your thumb over his furrowed brow, and it makes his mouth curve upwards in a smile. It’s fleeting, but it was there. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’ll try to open up more. Let you know what I’m thinking.”
Suddenly, you think about when you first started dating Carmy. He was so scared to open up to you emotionally, but with gentle prodding, he fell apart instantly. There was a hunger in him to be known by others, to be seen by you, and it scared him to death. You see that same fear in him now, but you also see how much he’s grown since then. You doubt you would’ve been able to have this conversation at all in the first couple months. 
That makes you happy in a way you’re not quite able to word properly.
“Thank you. But I hope you also know I don’t want to force you. I just wanna help. And…” You measure your words carefully. “I’ll try not to let it freak me out so much. Because if you’re not in the mood to talk, I want you to know that’s okay. Okay?”
“Okay. I’d like that. If I don’t want to talk, I’ll just tell you. Instead of…blowing a fuse.” He laughs dryly. 
“I’d like that too.” You let out an exhale of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. “Wow, Carm. Look at us. Communicating!”
“I know.” That makes him laugh for real this time, and you’re laughing too. “I couldn’t do it without you.”
“I think you could. But I certainly like doing it with you.” His smiles grows wider at that, brimming with affection. 
“Let me make this up to you, baby.” He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep. You let out a little noise when his lips meet yours. 
“Make it up to me?” Carmy’s tongue is on your neck now. Oh. “Aren’t you tired? You—you have work tomorrow—?”
“Don’t care.” You fall back onto the bed, and the blankets deflate under you. You stare up at Carmy, his curls hanging by his face. “You’re more important.”
“Well, if you insist…” You giggle, and your giggles get louder when Carmy pulls up your shirt to blow raspberries against your stomach. “Carmy, quit it—oh—!”
He makes it up to you in full and more by keeping his head between your legs for the rest of the night. By the end of it you can't remember what you were mad about in the first place.
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I WANT A HEART TATTOO!
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I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!
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synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.
➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader
➚ word count// 2k
contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?
notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...
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Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him. 
“You’re quiet.” 
You hum as you take a sip of your own beer. 
He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?” 
“I like watching you clean.” 
Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress). 
“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?” 
You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.” 
He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.” 
“And leave you to fend for yourself?”
“I’m a grown man.” 
“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.” 
Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.
maybe a little too much.
Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape. 
“Hey Y/N?” 
“Something wrong?” 
He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?” 
“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“ 
“I wasn’t gonna say that.” 
“Oh. then what were you gonna say?” 
“Can I give you a tattoo?” 
You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…
Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!” 
“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much. 
“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.” 
You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?” 
You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.” 
“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.
Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.
“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”
“What?”
“Getting tattooed scares me too.”
“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”
Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”
“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.
“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”
“Exactly!”
“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”
“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”
Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”
You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.
“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.
“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”
“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”
“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”
“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”
You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.
“…fine”
“fine?”
“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”
“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.
You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”
Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.
You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.
He just did that to comfort you.
That’s all.
He was just trying to be reassuring.
That's it.
At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.
The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.
Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”
You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.
Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”
You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”
“Then sit.”
And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.
“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”
“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.
He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”
“Do it like this or not at all.”
“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”
You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”
“Why like this anyway?”
“Because it’s comfortable..?”
Not really.
Like at all.
Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.
“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”
“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”
Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”
You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.
“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”
You nod sheepishly.
Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”
You nod again.
but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”
“For real this time.”
Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.
It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.
The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.
But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.
Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”
You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”
“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.
“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.
“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”
You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.
Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”
All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“
Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”
You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.
“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”
You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”
“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”
“Mind your business-“
Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.
and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.
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322 notes · View notes
suzukiblu · 2 days
Text
WIP excerpt: Billy and Damian and the whole soulmate thing.
“That could be considered a security concern,” Batman says very, very neutrally, which is when Billy realizes Batman hasn’t actually said anything to him since he said “Shazam”. 
Shit. 
“So what?” he says, edging a little bit away from Batman as he eyes him warily and debates “Shazam”-ing himself again. Like. No reason. Just this might be an easier conversation to have on eye-level, that’s all. 
Also it’s Batman, so . . . 
“It’s true,” Superman says, wincing slightly. Billy shoots him a dirty look. He still hasn’t forgotten that Superman apparently thinks he shouldn’t be allowed to risk his literal life and soul, like he thinks he’s bad at this or something? He’s really good at risking his literal life and soul, actually! Like, he’s really good at it, and it’s his whole literal thing. Superman didn’t even get hired to do this, he just showed up one day and started punching people! Billy at least had a job interview! 
Such bullshit. 
“Seriously?” he says with a scowl. “I’m good at secret identities. Nobody knew mine ‘til I told you! That’s the same track record as Batman!” 
“It’s technically superior,” Robin says. “Red Robin and Black Bat both deduced Father’s identity as children. And also–” 
“That’s unnecessary information at this time, Robin,” Batman cuts in while Billy’s still appreciating having a supportive soulmate. Robin rolls his eyes. Or Billy’s pretty sure he does–he can’t really tell through the mask, but Robin moved his head like he was rolling his eyes. 
“The list would require some time to go over,” Robin says like he’s agreeing. Billy hides a snicker in his hand. Batman eyes him. 
“. . . you do realize I'm going to be taking you in now, right?” he asks. 
“Dammit,” Billy says. 
“Holy crap, Cap swears?!” Flash yelps. 
“Oh yeah, it’s actually like a magic thing,” Billy says. “I literally can’t say bad words when I'm Captain Marvel? So no, technically, but also yes and all the fucking time.” 
“My entire life is a lie,” Flash mutters as he buries his face in his hands. Green Arrow pats him on the back. 
“You can’t ‘take me in’,” Billy says, scowling up at Batman. “I've gotta protect Fawcett. And you’ve got like, so many kids! There’s no way you have space for another one! They wouldn’t even let you, anyway, as soon as somebody noticed I was there I’d just end up in the stupid system again.” 
“I’m a licensed foster parent and there are seventeen bedrooms in my house,” Batman replies dryly. 
“Bullshit!” Billy sputters. “That’s not a house! Nobody’s house has seventeen bedrooms!” 
“Technically that count includes the servants’ quarters and guest wing, but it is accurate,” Robin says. 
“Guest wing?!” Billy demands. “Why do you have a guest wing?!” 
“For guests,” Batman replies matter-of-factly. Billy scowls at him again. Just because Batman’s funny doesn’t mean he’s gonna laugh. Or get stuck in the system again. 
Like, he’ll just run away immediately, obviously. But getting to the point where he can run away is gonna be a pain, and the League is obviously gonna be a pain about it too.
Ugh. This is so dumb.
201 notes · View notes
Note
Can u please write Luke Hughes car sex after taking a ride at night
riding | luke hughes
warnings: p in v (unprotected | be safe and responsible!), breeding kink, a pinch of spit kink, slight choking, slight subby Luke
a/n: of course I can 🤍 thanks for the request! love you ♡
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Music blares from the speakers of Luke’s car. His hand is on my thigh as he aimlessly drives us around New Jersey.
I was peacefully reading a book in bed when Luke came in the room insisting we go on a drive. I agreed and here we are, driving around Jersey for the last hour and a half.
“Wanna park up here for a bit?” Luke takes his hand off my thigh and begins to put the car in park before I can even respond.
I look out the window at the secluded area. The only lights are coming from the car and the city further ahead, as well at the moon and it’s accompanying stars.
“Come here, wanna hold you.” Luke pats his lap before unbuckling my seat belt. I crawl over to his seat with Luke’s help and he pulls me into his body. I wrap my arms around his neck and place my head on his shoulder. I don’t care if we’re at home, in the car, or on a plane. A long as I’m in Luke’s arms I’m a happy girl.
"Why'd you wanna come for a drive?" I ask, twirling one of his curls in between my fingers. "Wanted a change of scenery." He shrugs. I hum in response and press a kiss to the beauty spot beside his nose.
"I like this hoodie you're wearing. I wonder whose it is." Luke points to the Nike logo on the top left corner. "It’s mine?" He sighs and playfully rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah whatever. It looks better on you anyways." He presses his forehead against my chest and places a kiss to my clothed body. "Yeah. You look better without anything covering your abs." I slide my hand up his hoodie and poke him in the stomach. "Oh yeah? Do I?" I nod and give him an mhm in response. I decide to get bold and I begin to grind myself into his lap but he stops me before I can even fully rub against him.
"Babe.. I would love to but I don't have a condom. I didn't think we were gonna have sex but I should've known you'd find a way to get flirty." He fidgets with my gold 43 necklace that he gave me “just because”. I think about what I’m gonna say before nervously suggesting something to Luke that I’ve wanted to do for a while.
"Well.. we've been together for a year and I'm clean and I have an IUD but I understand if you don't wan-" Luke cuts me off. "I want to. I'm clean. You're the only woman I've had sex since we started dating." I laugh. "I would hope so." I press a kiss to his lips. "You have nothing to worry about." He whispers against my mouth before pressing our lips back together.
He slides his hands under my hoodie and gropes my breasts as our tongues tangle. I palm him through his sweatpants, feeling him grow harder in my hand. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum.” He mumbles against my swollen lips. I squeeze his cock harder at his dirty words and he groans into my mouth. “Please just ride me already.” He pulls away, looking at me with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some patience” I mumble before sucking on the sweet spot near his collarbone.
His hands find my ass, gently squeezing before slipping his them into my sweat pants. He squeezes my ass harder as I grind myself against his bulge.
Our lips find each others again as I tug at the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear. He lifts his ass off of the seat, allowing me to pull them down until they bunch around his ankles. I grab hold of his cock and run my fingertip along the sticky precum that drips from his pink tip. He sighs and then whimpers, grabbing my hand to stop. “Wanna cum inside of you, not all over your hand” He whines, looking at me with a desperate expression.
I sit up, beginning to pull my underwear and sweatpants down. I’m done with the games, I need him inside of me.
“You’d look so pretty with my baby inside of you.” Luke suddenly blurts out. I stop what I’m doing and look at him. His eyes are wide and his face is turning red. I don’t think he meant to say that.
“Luke… we’ve only been together for a year and we’re only 20” I laugh nervously. “No, I know. I just- I dunno. It’s just kinda hot to think about.” He slightly shrugs his shoulders, avoiding eye contact with me. “It is.” I whisper. “So hot. Please fill me up, Luke. Need it so bad.”
A big, toothy grin spreads across his face at my suddenly neediness. “I’ve been ready to fill you up, babe. You’re the one whose been teasing me.” His eyes trail down to his hard, exposed cock that he slowly strokes. I’m quick to push my bottoms down, exposing my soaked pussy. He reaches forward, running a finger through my folds before holding his cock for me to sink down on. I use the headrest of the seat for balance before pushing his dick into my aching heat. He lets out a loud whimper when he’s fully inside. It’s his first time fully feeling me.
I adjust to his size, grinding back and forth before I begin to steadily bounce up and down, using Luke’s shoulders for support. He tightly grips my hips, his head tipped back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.
I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He brings his thumb down to my clit and starts rubbing steady circles along the begging bud. “Wanna cum inside of you so bad.” Luke mumbles, nuzzling his head into my breasts. “Can’t wait for you to fill me up, Lukey.” I moan, tilting my head back.
I feel Lukes hand gently wrap around my neck, lightly squeezing. "Look at me." He pulls my hips forward and I weakly tip my head forward to look at him. "Hey pretty girl." He smirks as I stop bouncing, now just gently grinding back and forth. "Open that mouth for me, babe." He runs his thumb along my puffy lips, pulling the bottom one down. I open my mouth, slightly sticking my tongue out. I know what he wants.
Luke leans forward, hand still wrapped around my neck. He lets spit fall from in between in his plump lips and onto my tongue. I smile at him before swallowing his it. "So good for me." He mumbles.
I bounce up and down a few more times before Luke helps me grind back and forth, seeing how I've gotten tired and worked up. My chest is heaving as his tip consistently hits my sweet spot. "Babe, hold onto the headrest." Luke grabs my wrists, bringing them above his head. I grip the headrest and Luke lifts my hips up. He holds me there as he begins to use his strength and stamina to fuck up into me.
He rapidly bucks his hips up, slapping his balls off of my ass and the backs of my thighs. I scream into his neck, digging my fingers into the leather of the headrest. My orgasm is quickly approaching.
With a few more bucks up into my pussy, Luke’s hips begin to stutter and slow down. I push his hands away, taking control again to bring us to our highs. I grip his biceps, bouncing up and down. I clench around him, ready for him to fill me up with his salty, warm cum.
“Cum inside of me Luke. I need it.” I whimper into his neck as my pussy tightens around his shaft. My legs gently shake as I let myself go. “Cumming baby, I’m cumming.” Luke whines, digging his fingers into my hips.
I feel his cock twitch inside of me, releasing his warm, white substance into my tight hole. He paints my walls as needy, sexy moans spill from his lips.
I look at him, taking in his used, worn out form. His cheeks are red, sweat shining around his hairline. His curls are a mess and his eyes are tightly squeezed shut. He holds onto my hips like he never wants me to get away.
I run my fingertips along his warm cheeks before pressing a soft kiss to his nose. I hold his beautiful face in my hands until he slowly opens his eyes a few moments later. He blinks a few times, bringing himself back to the present. A smile spreads across his face before he pulls me in to kiss him. He softly peppers kisses along my jaw as I twirl his curls in my fingers. “Let’s get home, love.” I whisper against his skin. He nods.
I carefully pull him out of me, and reach to grab a tissue from the glove box. “No.” Luke grabs my wrists. “Want you to be filled with me till we get home.” He throws the tissues into the back seat before pulling his bottoms up. I do the same, his cum immediately pooling in my already wet panties.
He helps me get into the passenger seat, doing my seatbelt for me. He presses a kiss to my hand, squeezing it before buckling his own seat belt.
I rest my head against the window as Luke’s hand finds a place on my thigh. He pulls out of the secluded area, driving us back home as I drift in and out of sleep to the sound of Luke quietly singing along to his favourite country songs.
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minkyungseokie · 2 days
Text
When Nothing Goes Right | LS2
synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be
warnings; none
note; requested
note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother
Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
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It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.
Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.
Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.
Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.
                     •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•
Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.
As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"
Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.
Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.
"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.
She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.
It wasn't hard.
She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.
The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.
The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.
Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.
"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed
Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.
“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.
“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.
•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•
Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.
Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.
“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.
Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.
“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.
Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.
He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.
Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.
“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That’s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”
“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.
James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”
“But—“
“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.
Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology
“I love you.”
“Love you too. Now let’s go.”
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demonsword586 · 1 day
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Beelzebub Attacker part 2
Damn,I'm working fast these days! Anyway,here's more Beel being...Beel. You will see what I mean
(Pg: Inside the shelter)
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Happy-looking Male devil: Haaa...Hnn...!
Happy-looking Female devil: Hn...Hnnn-haa!
Glistering chanting echoed throughout,and the room was hotter than outside from ghe heat of the bodies.
No matter where you moved your gaze,the tangled mass of skin bounced up and down,bumping into each other and making popping noises.
The walls and the floor of the shelter were blue,the lights were white and neon,and there was some kind of pink smoke going through the place.
Actually seeing the things you were used to seeing inside your monitor,made you feel crushed by it's power.
You had seen various types of roleplay before,but the actual voices and scenes made it feel even more obscene.
The sight of flesh shaking,the sound of it slapping against each other,the obscene odor,rhe hot air,the energy transferred to your skin. These things stimulated you and elevated your mood.
Mc: (It's embarrassing,but I want to see...)
Sweat tickled down your cheeks from the heat of the room and your own excitment as you squinted at the sights around you,unable to settle your gaze.
Slip-
Mc: Ugh!
Just then something warm and wet fondled your temple.
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Beelzebub: It's cute that you're looking around. It's not unusual for you,is it?
Beelzebub licked your sweat and whispered in your ear.
He hugged your shoulders and licked the sweat from your temple as if he would not miss even a single drop.
Beelzebub blew out hot air and put his tongue in your ear.
Mc: Ugh..ah..ah!
Beelzebub: Ah...Delicious.
In one ear you could hear Beelzebub's lustful voice and the sound of his saliva dripping from his mouth,
And in the other,you could hear such pathetic cries that one would never think would come from the intercourse going around you. You found yourself screaming at the top of your lungs with uncharacteristic ease.
Mc: Ugh,ugh..ahh!
All that he had done was lick your ear,but you were already moaning patheticlly.
Meanwhile you heard a strangers voice.
Waiter: Welcome,your Majesty. This is your usual drink as you requested.
A handsome,middle-aged waiter approached as though he was used to the sight of you being sqashed and stood next to you with a silver tray with four glasses of white liquid on top.
It looked like he wasn't affected by Beelzebub's spell unlike the other devils,as he naturally called Beelzebub 'your Majesty'.
Waiter: Which one would you like today?
The waiter who seemed to be serving at the shelter smiled,his sharp,long eyes narrowing even more and without changing his complexion as though he was accustomed to the strange sight.
Standing with a noticeably upright posture,he glanced at the drinks on the tray with familiarity.
Beelzebub: Ahh,thanks. What shall we do?
Beelzebu receded from your ear and straightened a little to look at the drinks.
Beelzebub: Mc,which one would you like?
Beelzebub let you choose,but they all looked like white liquid to you.
Mc: ....What is this? Whats the diffrence?
As you pondered,you made eye contact with the waiter who smiled skillfuly.
Waiter: Welcome Daughter/Son of Solomon...I was waiting for you.
Waiter: The glass on the right is fresh,100% pure milk from his Majesty's horn.
Mc: Huhh?!
You widened your eyes and mouth at the unexpected drink,but neither the waiter nor Beelzebub seemed at all concerned.
Waiter: And the glass on the left is fresh,100% pure semen from his Majesty's wonderful,strong penis.
Waiter: These are all specialty items that have been sealed and specially preserved to ensure that they taste as fresh as they came out of his Majesty's body.
Mc: (Beelzebus's se...What?!)
Beelzebub pointed left.
Beelzebub: Hmm,shall I take this one today?
Mc: Eek,you asked me!
Beelzebub asked you but chose the drinks (?) himself,and you stared at him incredulously. But he didn't seem to mind at all.
Beelzebub pulled himself up from his position on top of you and knelt down on the couch,
Then,he picked suddenly up the two glasses on the left,popped one into his mouth without hesitation,and held the other out to you.
You slowly sat up to take the glass.
Mc: (Beelzebub's fresh,100% pure cum. It's just cum,)
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Mc: (I'm apready used to it because of Minhyeok's cum...)
Mc: Ok?!
You tilted your glass as if the mood called for it,and were shocked when the viscous white liquid slowly flowed into your mouth.
It was nothing like the feel or taste of cum as you knew and imagined.
The moment it entered your mouth,the sweet,rich flavor was felt directly in your brain and not your tongue! It was a transcendent taste experience like the part of your brain that tasted the most delicious things was absorbing it directly.
The king of gluttony. If these were all the foods Beelzebub recommended,you thought you might as well be his slave for life.
Mc: What is this?! I've never tasted anything as delicious as this?!
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Beelzebub: What do you think? My sperm,they're delicious and healthy,right?
Beelzebub rumbled his throat in amusment at your reaction.
....But before you could even finish it,something strange began to happen to your body.
Mc: Ah..huh?...Uhm...
You start to feel hotter and hotter like you had a fever,your breathing became ragged,and sweat began to break out all over your body,soaking you.
Beelzebub placed a large hand on your shoulder.
Mc: Ahhh!!!
Beelzebub: Keke..
Mc: ( Ah...Why?...)
All he had done was place his hand on your shoulder,but it turned your vision white for a moment.
Whether it was because of the excitment or Beelzebub,your whole body felt damp.
Mc: Beelzebub...Ha,what's happening?...
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Satisfied with your reaction,Beelzebub lightly pressed your nipple with his fingertip.
Mc: (Ah,what's this?! He only touched me!)
The sweet stimulation made you nervous between your legs,and you found yourself biting and rubbing against Beelzebub's firm thighs against your will. Beelzebub noticed and chuckled.
Beelzebub: It looks like you have something to say!
He asked joyfully,with an expression of know-it-all.
Mc: Beelzebub...
You felt so embarrassed that you coudn't say it out loud.
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22ayla19 · 3 days
Text
Sunday x Reader
Marriage of convenience
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I arrived in Penaconia to relax with my sister, her husband and their daughter, my niece. Being the head of one of the most famous corporations, I took upon myself all the expenses of my vacation to Penaconia. I really wanted to please my loved ones with a vacation in a place like Penaconia, but who knew that I would almost meet death during this vacation...
The mercenaries followed us even to the Hotel of Dreams. Unfortunately, the sister and her husband died protecting their daughter, but... But these bastards did not even spare the child!
I can understand when an adult is killed. No matter how you look at it, an adult will always have sins that he will hide, but this is a child! The little angel that my sister has been waiting for so long! What did this little angel do wrong?!
I would have died too if the hotel staff hadn’t found me. They provided first aid to me and tried to save my niece, but it was all to no avail. She died...
While I was in the hospital, Sunday himself from the Family visited me. It’s understandable why; No matter how you look at it, this is a case of greatly affecting the reputation of the Hotel, but to be honest, it doesn’t matter to me, I just want the heads of those mercenaries and the customer who so wanted my death and the death of my family.
- Please accept my condolences, Lady (Y/N). We are able to compensate financially for the damage, but it seems to me that you will not accept it...
- You are not to blame for what happened. I myself should have been more careful, because I have many enemies, but who could have thought that these scum would kill even an innocent child!... - anger stupefied me. I wanted the death of these bastards and guessed who it could be, I was ready to rush into them right now and strangle them.
- Please, lady (Y/N), pull yourself together. I understand your anger, people like this shouldn’t live anyway. Now the best option would be to lie low and prepare a plan to expose your enemies. They probably think that you, as the head of your corporation, are already dead, so why not play on their self-confidence? As the head of the Family, I will help you and provide everything to help you,- Sunday’s words carried weight. I really need to pull myself together, and no one knew about my trip except my deputy, which means he is involved in this.
I had no choice but to accept Sunday's offer. I'm not in the best situation right now and I need any help I can get. I see what a hypocrite he is, looking for benefit from this situation, but to be honest, I don’t care. I already have nothing to lose, my hands are free from the shackles of family and nothing stops me.
With the help of Sunday, the right people found out about my “death,” which helped me recover physically and find out that my deputy was to blame for this whole situation. So I was right... All that remains is to find evidence of his guilt and then my revenge will be accomplished.
- Milady, I apologize if I disturbed you, but I would like to offer you a deal. I hope you don't mind? - again that nasty fake smile.
- I have nothing to lose anymore. So talk about your proposals.
- You see, my friends and parents really want me to get married, but to be honest, I don’t want it. Since your revenge will soon be accomplished, you will be able to return your corporation, but the position will be very precarious after what happened. I would like to offer you an arranged marriage where you will receive support from the Family and I will get rid of all the talk about marriage.
The offer is more than good, because I really need support and yet, looking at it, you can understand that he is up to something. Well, it doesn’t concern me, if he wants to get my corporation through a marriage of convenience, then you’re welcome. I don’t even want to work after everything that happened.
A couple of months later, we found the necessary documents about who killed my relatives and that they tried to frame me. You should have seen the face of these scum when you saw me alive. It’s a joy for the soul to see how they lost everything in one moment, just like I once lost everyone.
After the trial, Sunday and I got married. I had to forcefully squeeze out my emotions so as not to ruin the event with my indifference. My corporation was under the wing of the Family, received the necessary support and I felt calmer, just like Sunday. He was no longer pestered with questions about marriage; now he is a family man himself.
Children from this marriage... To be honest, this topic is quite painful for me, after everything that happened. No matter how you look at it, there is no love in our marriage. We respect each other, but this is not love. The child was not conceived out of love, he may be injured in the future, but I don’t want that.
- What are you thinking about, my wife? - It’s disgusting to hear something like that from his lips, but I need to get used to living with him until I’m old.
- About children. Even though this is an arranged marriage, you will need an heir, right?
- Of course, an heir for organizations like the Family, this goes without saying, but until you feel better morally, I will not insist on children. After all, you will carry the pregnancy and you will also have to endure all the hardships of pregnancy. Let's put this topic aside for now.
It was unexpected...
In fact, in many arranged marriages, children do not grow up in love. They were literally conceived by force. In such marriages, men do not even think about how difficult it is for a woman during pregnancy. Simple respect and understanding that it would really be difficult for me during pregnancy was for me the beginning of respect for such a person as Sunday.
Yes, he is still a hypocrite, but at least he respects my interests and consults my opinion. I’m his wife, even though it’s under contract, but I’m still his main priority. This was a revelation to me, because I thought Sunday was arrogant and a hypocrite.
After a couple of years, I was able to let go of deceased loved ones and became a trusted person in Penaconia. Even if it was an arranged marriage, there were many people who did not trust me, but after a while I corrected this situation. Resurrection and I have a close relationship, we respect each other, but there is no love as such. The topic of children was never raised, but my heart feels that this conversation is not far off.
An heir is needed not only for the Family, but also for my corporation. It's only a matter of time before I get pregnant, but preferably soon, because there are already unpleasant rumors going around.
- Wife, why were you so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice me? - Sunday apparently just returned from work, since I didn’t notice his presence.
- Yes, I just remembered some unpleasant gossip, nothing like that.
- Is this a coincidence, not those rumors that you are still not pregnant?
- Still, I heard... - the conversation, of course, had to begin sometime, but not on such a note...
- It’s hard not to pay attention to them when they strive to pay attention. Of course, I wanted to talk to you about this topic, but I didn’t think it would be on such an unpleasant note, - sitting next to me on the sofa, his expression showed dissatisfaction. He didn't like the gossip about our marriage. It was clear that some wanted our divorce.
- It’s worth starting to think about conceiving a child, isn’t it? - we did not look into each other’s eyes, each looked at the ceiling and thought about his own. And although I did not receive an answer, but by the way Sunday’s wings began to twitch, one could assume that he agreed with me, - Will you fulfill one of my wishes?
- What? - Apparently, I was taken by surprise by Sunday. Until today, I have never asked him for anything, let alone desire, - Yes, of course...
- When the baby is born, please give him all your parental love. Both my sister and I were unwanted children. The father needed a son to be the heir, and the mother hated us. I literally replaced my sister's mother. I can live in an arranged marriage, but I cannot live with a person who will hate his child. I just ask... Love our future child just like I do...
And although Sunday himself should have gotten to the bottom of my past, because I didn’t tell him, such a desire came as a shock to him.
- I promise. I will do everything possible to ensure that our child grows up in love.
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freckliedan · 1 day
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wait can you talk more about christmas 2018?
Anonymous asked: Just what you said in your post! "the first christmas where they publicly spent that much time together" did they usually keep quiet about where they were?
i can't speak to the 2014-16 era because i fell out of touch with the fandom at that time, but i was absolutely around during 2017 & 18. both of those years marked HUGE shifts, and both of those huge shifts came at the tail end of gamingmas/dilmas. you can check out my original frog theory post and my frog theory tag for elaboration on the function of gamingmas irt all of this. as just like. prerequisite framework reading.
ANYWAYS. the thing that was such a big deal was that dan was openly visiting the lesters with phil. yes, you can visit friends' families during the holidays. but it's much more frequently something you do with a significant other. so the ruckus was because dan and phil knew the conclusions people would jump to if we knew dan visited the lesters at christmas, and they still let us know that it happened.
(this got disgustingly long, so i'm putting the rest of this post under the cut.)
part of what made that such a big deal was having that happen after the no homo/closet era, the "we're not together we're not even that close of friends we're just roommates" era. the significance of their trust & openness was MUCH more tangibly felt. a way larger percent of the fandom at that time had been present when the vday video leaked/had joined shortly afterwards when that was one of the biggest things impacting both phandom culture and our relationship with dnp.
so in 2017 when we got a glimpse of dan up north at the lesters' in a couple of cornelia's instagram stories? we lost our fucking minds about it. it was only 2 (i think) background cameos, but it was quite literally unprecedented. it's not something that qualifies as openly spending time together at the holidays because of the method throug which we found out about it, but like. there's no way they didn't know that cornelia was posting those, and no way that they didn't know we'd know about it.
when i say we, i mean dedicated phannies. people who could possibly be reading this post, not casual subscribers to the gaming channel. because when it comes to casual viewers, or even people who aren't a part of dan and phil's usual audience at all? there's a lot of methods of communication that they just plain aren't paying attention to and won't be aware of.
the most direct, permanent methods dan and phil have for communicating are videos on either of their individual channels or on dan and phil games, and after that is instagram grid posts or tweets, as well as videos on their side channels. twitter replies, insta stories, livestreams, and their public likes on any social media platform? those are for a more private audience. their appearances in other people's posts reaches a similarly small audience.
knowing that they were starting to be more and more open through the communication channels only open between them and dedicated fans, and that it was a trend - december 2017 is also when phil, in a liveshow, read out someone's "you and dan are so married" comment and just.. laughingly said "it-it's a useful thing". (link to gifs of that). it wasn't a one-off. it was a trend.
and compared to 2018, it was dust. they spent the whole year becoming increasingly open with us, through increasingly direct methods. it was a whirlwind. even for people who've watched all the videos and liveshows, you don't have the whole picture. the onslaught was coming at us from every angle at all moments. you'd have to also explore the full archives of social media posts, insta stories, meet and greets , social media likes, and like.. the archived recordings of every interactive introverts tour date. it was batshit.
it was genuinely one of the most insane years of my life. i was having physical symptoms. we all knew what was coming, we all could tell they were working up towards coming out, but nobody wanted to trust that we were right about that. my dashboard was regularly at a fever pitch.
and december 2018 was the culmination of everything. and then they were talking directly to us in a liveshow and being. insanely open. they told us that dan was going with phil to visit the lesters. and they told us that pinof was ending. and then dilmas started dropping, aggressively cementing the fact that dab and evan were sim-universe proxies for dnp, while dan and phil posted instagram grid and story updates about visiting the lesters. and then dab and evan came home to the howlter house for the holidays. and got engaged.
and then they went on hiatus, and we pretty much did not hear from dan until he came out.
the point is. we knew there was a fucking insane energy. we KNEW something big was coming. we fucking knew. it was a two year build up to dan and phil being the most publicly gay they'd ever been on the gaming channel and every single other platform - and part of that insanity was them being open about dan visiting the lesters, which coincided with them having their proxy sims get gay engaged while visiting family.
"did they usually keep quiet about where they were?" anon, the last time before all this that they had openly acknowledged dan visiting the lesters during the holidays was 2009.
the way they were acting over christmas of 2018 had me experiencing shrimp emotions to such an intense degree i was having verifiable psychic visions.
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cinnamonest · 3 days
Text
Also on note of that “bone breaking” post I believe Xiao is an absolute menace to the innkeepers because of his inability to gauge human sickness and injury. He's thoroughly convinced any slight discomfort you experience is a near-death situation.
Human life is incredibly fragile. Their bodies are nearly unbelievably susceptible to death from even very mild injuries and sicknesses, they die so easily it's frightening. Which is why he has to be very vigilant with you.
You once got a bit nauseous from eating something a bit past expiry date — you insist it's just food poisoning over and over, but he practically drags you to a pharmacist anyway “just in case,” because there are many deadly pathogens and parasites humans can die from that begin this way, and you will drop dead before you even know something is wrong.
If you have a headache, it's probably an oncoming aneurysm that will cause sudden death. You may think you have a mere common cold, but he is well aware that many very dangerous and severe illnesses begin as symptoms of common colds, some of which progress so rapidly you may not have time to notice before sudden death.
You try to explain your throat hurts because what you ate is giving you heartburn, but if it has the word heart, which is a very vital organ, that can only mean you are at great risk of, you guessed it, sudden death.
More than once now you've been sleeping a little too deeply — your breaths are so slow that it looks like you're barely breathing at all, so he has to shake you awake to ensure you are still alive. Any cough or sneeze is met with this head-jerk in your direction and yellow eyes wide open staring in panic, and you have to swear up and down you just got swallowed the wrong way or inhaled some dust.
Not even period pains are safe — it's normal, so you insist, you can't hide your discomfort so you're all but begging him not to worry about it, but this one time he remembers about seven hundred years ago he once heard a villager mention a woman who had internal bleeding mistaken for just that and died, so it must be seen professionally (yes, each month). The whole concept bothers him — you're bleeding and in pain, those things are bad, how can you be sure it's the normal amount of bleeding and pain and not too much, that you're not actually five minutes away from dropping dead? That's right, you can't know, which is why you have to let him carry you to the harbor for the third time this week.
Injury is even worse — yes, he's aware that human flesh bruises easily, but this bruise is on your ribcage, and you don't recall how it got there, there are organs underneath there and you could very well be internally bleeding out.
Both innkeepers are, at this point, used to him coming bounding into the main lobby in full-fledged panic, demanding to hand over the emergency medical kit kept by the front desk so he can save you from bleeding out (you accidentally cut your finger on a splinter on the baseboard), and they no longer bat an eye or ask where you're going when he comes barging through carrying you (protesting, at that) out the door without a word before vanishing in the direction of the nearest village with a doctor… even when you try to get their help to please tell him I'm fine, they just ignore you at this point, knowing it's futile.
There's a death at the inn once — you try to be reasonable and explain that it was a very elderly and sickly man who most certainly died of natural causes, but see, you don't know for sure that he didn't have some kind of rare rapid-onset deadly illness that can spread from the bottom floor all the way up to where your room is, so it is imperative that you be disinfected professionally.
He annoys the doctors too — they're all used to it at this point too, but many of them are aware of him, and none of the humans really want to oppose or risk upsetting one of these beings they have a degree of reverence for, so much to your dismay, all of them continue to treat his concerns as legitimate, even though it's very blatantly clear to you that they're faking taking it seriously.
On the bright side, having some pity on your suffering perhaps (or being tired of dealing with the same thing over and over), the harbor pharmacist managed to convince him that an over-the-counter mild painkiller was a miracle cure for a wide variety of ailments, so unless you feel that you need more, he says, then that should be enough… which cuts down on the frequency of your unnecessary emergency care visits, but only somewhat.
At this point, surely at least one of the concerns has been legitimate, he has definitely saved your life more than once by now. And yet, you have not thanked him for this, you continue to be so naive to your own fragility and do nothing but complain about it when you literally owe him your life. Unbelievable.
But rest assured, your ungratefulness will not deter him from continuing to take the utmost care of you, he'll continue to save you, regardless of how unappreciated these life-saving efforts are.
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Rites: St Patrick's Day
It's a day celebrated by many people, especially Irish community. And in such a blessed festivities, several Irish-descent gained some kind of magical development blessed only on the time window of St. Patrick Day.
I've been hella distracted all day long, and it's all because of my roommate Patrick. He's always been a rather sporty guy from the get go, and I'm pretty much used to the fact that we're not necessarily that close as a roommate since we have totally different interest anyway. But, ever since he walked back in to the dorm after his shower this morning only rocking that towel, I simply couldn't take my eyes off him.
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He's pale as fuck, yes, and not like that muscular or anything, but it's just super enchanting to see him glide around our dorm and dress himself up for the day. Since we have separate bedroom and only connected by this study-common section, we have our privacy and moments to ourselves rather easily. He decided to be a bit loud with all the oohs and aahs as he probably checked himself out. I was sure I heard him say something about his "slightly tanned skin" or "veinous muscular arms that make people feral" or even "my fat and girthy uncut cock" but well.....I think I would be a bit proud too over my body development if I have a studly physique like his
I remembered some of our final convo before we left for our respective schedule as he exited his bedroom and ready to leave earlier than me
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"Clean the bathroom before you leave for your class, okay?"
"Can you take care of my laundry first? You don't have class till 2 PM, right? You can sniff it if you want HAHAH! Nevermind, just do my laundry, okay?"
"Come and watch me play with my buds after your class, okay? We'll play in the outdoor field, then we can head back to the dorm together, sounds nice, right?"
And I simply said yes to all of that. On top of that, even when he left, the obsession remain for me. I bet I spent most of my day daydreaming about him rather than putting on any substantial work whatsoever to my classes.
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I found myself scrolling through IG and rewatching his stories upload about his workout session before I eventually dashed to the basketball court to watch him play as my classes wrapped for the day.
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I followed all Patrick's movement on the court and practically ignored the other players, it's like as if he's my world and I need to focus all my attention to him. Eventually, when the sweating, post-basketball-reek Patrick brought me to his car, he simply put me in my place as he said
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"Now be a good faggot and start huffing. This is the shit that keeps you going, this gives you satisfaction when you can prove that you served me well, right?"
And just like that, I accepted that as my truth
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scarletwinterxx · 18 hours
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fool for you - mark lee dad scenario
a bit late to this but OH MY GOD MARK LEE GIRL DAD😭🥺😭🥺 we already know he's going to be the best dad to his kids in the future🤍🤍
you already know my feels went through the roof after seeing that cli[ so here's another mark dad scenario and can you believe this is the 10th one OMGGGGGG anyways i hope you like it!
part1: day with dad mark lee
part2: another day with dad mark lee
part3: a day with the lee's
part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs
part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's
part6: first love and kisses
part7: naps and baby kicks
part8: then there was three
part9: just like you
For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.
and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
"in my next life, I think I'll become a fool for my daughter"
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"Lovie, can you stay with Minjee? I'm just going to the mall with Minjung to get new shoes and a few other stuff for the baby" you tell your husband who is currently on the sofa resting.
It's around that time again when you're counting down the days until the new baby comes, this time the two of you choose to keep the gender a surprise. You won't find out until you give birth. There's an on going bet in your household whether it'll be a girl or a boy.
"Why don't I come with him? You sure you okay to go out?" he asks, watching you struggle putting on your shoes. He chuckles before walking toward you, kneeling down to put it on for you even double tying the shoelaces just to be sure.
"It's okay, besides the doctor said it's healthy to walk around. And we both know it'll be easier to look after Minjung then Jee" you laugh, your husband agreeing with you
"She's the main character, we're all just living in her world" he says
You smile at Mark, giving him a kiss before getting your purse and keys.
"Call me if you need anything" he tells you
"Minjung, let's go" you shout, your son appears from the staircase ready to go
"You already know, buddy. Take care of mom, okay? Call me if something happens" he gives his son a quick hug before watching the two of you drive away
The two of you finished the errands and is now getting a quick snack before heading home. You like having one on one time with your kids. It helps you keep a closer relationship with them. And even though you know the two siblings get along very well, you still make it a point to spend time with them one by one. And so does Mark.
"Is there anything else you need, buddy?" you ask your son
He shakes his head, taking a bite of his sandwich. You smile watching him, it feels just like yesterday you were sitting in the backseat with newborn Minjung in the baby car seat on your way home from the hospital and now he's 13.
"How do you feel about getting another sibling?"
He looks at you, it's like looking at Mark's eyes. They same round, adorable chocolate eyes you love so much.
"Excited. It'll be cool if it's a boy. I'll teach him to play basketball and bike. It's okay too if it's a girl" he shrugs
"You know mommy and daddy loves you very very much"
"I know, I love you too" he smiles back at you
When you get home, Minjee welcomes you excitedly asking if you got her a cakepop which Minjung hands over to his sister
"Wah thank you, oppa! Dad look oppa got me a pink cakepop!" she screams excitedly, running to wherever Mark is. You and Minjung follow her, Mark in the kitchen getting dinner ready
"Cool, but you can have that after dinner okay? Na uh don't give me that look, missy. I ordered chicken just like you asked" the father-daughter banter continues
The two siblings help set up the table while you stay in the kitchen with Mark, "How did it go?" Mark asks you
"Good, we had fun. You sound like you had fun too" you joked
"I swear she knows how to make me says yes" he mumbles, you walk towards him, giving him a side hug
"You love her" you tell him with a chuckle and a kiss on the jaw
"That I do. I'd do anything for our kids" he says, looking down at you. He kisses you on the nose, eliciting giggles from you before breaking away
"Okay, dinner time!"
After dinner and everyone finished with their night time routines, it's finally time to call it a night.
You lay on your side of the bed, getting the pregnancy pillow ready
"Can I keep that after?" Mark asks, you watch him step out of the shower. Towel hanging on his hips while he dries his hair with another
"No" you tell him with a tight smile, Mark laughs before walking towards the dresser to get clothes
"Oh come on, let me enjoy the view some more"
"Woman, you are already pregnant" he tells you, playfully throwing the towel he was drying his hair with towards you. He puts on his sleeping shorts, leaving the shirt behind. He goes out the room to check all doors before going to bed
He turns towards you, the two of you face to face.
"Just a few more days and it'll be five of us" he whispers. His hand resting on your belly
"I'm calling it, this one will look like you again" you tell him
"You love us"
"That I do, I love you and all versions of you. Especially the little humans we made" you smile at him. He scoots closer to kiss you. Kissing you on the lips then on your cheeks a few time until you were laughing.
"Okay, time to rest. Goodnight, baby. I love you" he tells you
"Love you"
Minjung woke up to something poking his back, groggily looking to see Minjee
"Jee? What?"
The girl hiccups, still crying. This woke Minjung up more, sitting up on his bed and turning the bedside light on,
"Why are you crying? Did you have a bad dream?" he asks
"Will mom and dad not let me live here when the baby comes?" she asks, her tiny voice breaking
"What? of course not" her brother immediately answers. He gets out from under the blanket to hug his sister, wiping a few tears running down her face
"When you were born, I was so excited. Dad took me to the hospital to meet you. You had this big bow on, you were crying a lot too" he tells her
"You were there?" she asks
Minjung smiles "Yea, dad even helped me to carry you. You were really tiny. When the new baby comes, we'll go together to meet them"
"Will you still play with me when they come?"
"Of course I will, we're bestfriends right? You gave me this" he says, showing the beaded bracelet Minjee made for him. Similar to what she's wearing.
"You promise? You'll still get me cakepops?"
"Of course, pinkypromise"
The two siblings lock pinky fingers, the younger one finally smiling.
"Wait here okay?" Minjung says before going out of his room and carefull walking towards his parents bedroom. Knocking lightly before going in.
He walks towards Mark's sleeping figure, tapping him awake
"Huh what wha huh?? Minjung? Are you okay? What's happening?" Mark asks, sitting up immediately
"What time is it?" he asks, looking for his phone to see it's 2am
"Minjee woke up crying, she's in my room now"
Mark stands up carefully, looking over at your sleeping figure before quickly putting on a shirt and walking out with Minjung
"She okay? bad dream?"
"No uh it's about the new baby"
His son didn't need to elaborate anymore, already getting a hint why his babygirl was crying.
When the two walks back to Minjung's room, Jee still sitting there.
"Hey, Jee. Come on, dad will come with you. Goodnight buddy, thank you for being a good brother" Mark tells his eldest, kissing him on the head before stepping out of the room with the younger one
"Do you want warm milk before going back to bed?" Mark asks the 6 year old girl, getting a no from her
When they get to Minjee's room, the two sat on the bed
"Are you sad right now?" Mark asks his daughter
"Will you still love Jee when the baby comes?" Jee asks and Mark crumbles
"Oh my girl, of course I will. I'll love you longer than forever and that's a long long long time. You'll always be my princess. Even after the new baby comes, mom and dad might need to spend more time with them but that doesn't mean we love you and your brother any less" he tucks her hair behind her ear, pinching her cute round cheeks she definitely got from you.
"Can dad have a hug?" he opens his arms, Minjee scooting in her father's embrace
"Always remember, dad loves you so so much. I'd give you the moon and all the stars if you want. If you ever feel sad you can come and talk to me okay?"
He feels the younger one nod. Tucking her in bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead before calling it a night (again)
When he gets back to your room, he slides under the sheets then he feels you search for him
"Min?" you mumble
"Here, baby. Go to sleep" he leans over to give your temple a kiss. He sees a sleepy smile on your lips before your heads goes down on the pillow again.
Just like that everyone was asleep again, but before he fades into dreamland he says a silently thank you to heaven for this life. Ready and excited to face tomorrow with his family.
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imaginespazzi · 14 hours
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Part 4: The Art of Letting Go
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
Only know you love her when (she lets you) go
(In which a still very sadistic writer make things a lot worse but only so they can get a little bit better)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt with very little comfort
Words: 7.9K
TW: Car Accidents, Panic Attacks, Swearing
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I know I'm very, very late with this and I love you all for being so patient. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter but it is what it is. Logistical details are probably a little off but I need things to work for the plot, so try and ignore that. Per usual I did edit (very loosely and I'll probably go back over it later), there are probably typos anyways. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading lovelies and let's get a W this weekend. <3
December 2023
A week or so after they get back from the Cayman Islands, Azzi feels like she’s been sleep-walking through life, everything around her hazy and dull. She religiously sticks to a routine of eat-study-practice-sleep. Except well, sleep isn’t really sleeping. It’s her brain conjuring images of blonde hair and blue eyes and Azzi forcing herself to wake-up from a nightmare that used to be her favourite dream. 
She doesn’t tell anyone what happened, lying to herself it’s because it would be embarrassing and not because it would mean having to face the truth. Still, it doesn’t mean that her teammates can’t piece together little bits. There must be something quite sinister about the air around her, because none of her normally nosy and eager-to-help sisters try to weasel any information out of Azzi. They act like they always have, only sharing worried looks behind her back when the façade of i’m doing fine slips momentarily when she thinks no one’s watching. 
And then that façade goes to hell over the span of a couple of hours. 
It starts with the inevitable breakup with Zoe. At first Azzi avoids it, making up excuses as to why she can’t see her girlfriend. Selfishly, there’s a part of her that wants to keep Zoe, keep a girl who would never leave, never make her feel anything less than (or more than) just content. But it’s not fair, Azzi knows that, and it’s why she practises her it’s not you, it’s me speech to perfection in front of the mirror. When she goes to message Zoe that she's coming over, the text chain causes a pinch of guilt in her heart at the contrast between her girlfriend’s hopeful tone versus her own nonchalant one. And Azzi thinks that Zoe will never really understand just how similar the two of them are, stuck at wanting someone who would always let them down. Only, Azzi will let Zoe free but when it comes to her herself, she’s pretty sure she’s destined to be trapped forever. 
It’s embarrassing to admit that Azzi remembers the apartment in Storrs that she’d visited barely a handful of times a lot more than she remembers the apartment she’s currently in, the one that belongs to her girlfriend. Zoe sits rigidly on the couch with the same reserved, guarded expression she’s had since she’d opened the door, clearly aware of what was about to happen. Her foot taps incessantly as the silence between them drags on.
“You deserve better,” Azzi says finally, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor. 
“No,” Zoe’s voice is cold, “don’t say shit like that. It’s a cop out. It’s the shit people say to make themselves feel better-”
“Zoe-”
“Don’t be a fucking coward Azzi. Look me in the eye and say it, say exactly what you’re here to.”
Azzi doesn’t want to do any of that. She wants to crumble to the ground and let it swallow her until she’s buried so far away from the mess she’s created. But she owes Zoe this. When she does look at Zoe, there’s this look in the other girl’s eyes that Azzi had never thought herself capable of evoking in anyone and she has to swallow away the bile that rises in her throat, disgusted by her own self. 
“I’m breaking up with you,” Azzi whispers. Her words linger in the air, like shrapnel after an explosion. Zoe flinches, a single tear trickling down her face. 
“There it is,” the Californian says quietly, the ghost of an ironic smile playing on her lips, “I knew it was coming but damn- there it is.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“For what-” Zoe cuts herself, “no actually don’t- don’t answer that. I think I know.”
Azzi draws in a deep breath, ready to confess, “I need to tell-”
“Please-”
“Z-”
“Please,” Zoe sobs, “please don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear it okay? I don’t- I don’t want to hate you Azzi. It’s too much and I don’t- I just- I’m so tired of feeling so much for you when you don’t- when you feel so little for me.”
“That’s not true,” Azzi counters helplessly, her words ringing hollow to her own ears. 
“Fucking hell you just ended it Azzi, you don’t have to pretend anymore. And it’s okay because I get it. You can’t feel any more than what little you do for me because- because you’ve already given the rest of it away. And it’s not- it’s not like I didn’t know you know? I only ever met you because you were crying over her. You only let me into your life because you missed her. And now you have her,” Zoe says wistfully. 
It’s terrible the way everything else becomes white noise as Azzi’s ear latches on the last sentence, a sentence that couldn’t be any further away from the truth. She was prepared for the accusations, for Zoe to hurl every curse word in the book at her, but this, the unintended reminder that she was giving up on soft, sweet, gentle Zoe for something that she didn’t have, hurts far more than any words could. 
“This isn’t about-” 
Zoe’s quick to cut Azzi off, pushing herself off the couch they had been sharing, trying to put even more space in between them, “please do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence. I deserve that much at least.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are because I know- I know who you are Azzi and I know you’re a good person and that’s why- that’s why I don’t wanna know okay? Whatever you did- whatever happened- just let me- just let me have this. Let me remember you as someone good- someone great,” Zoe pleads.
“If that’s what you want Zo,” Azzi answers weakly, the guilty clawing at her heart. She doesn’t think she deserves to be remembered like that, doesn’t think she’s worthy of being thought of with fondness, not anymore. 
Zoe doesn’t make any acknowledgement of Azzi having spoken as she starts to pace, “I should have known. You know the day I met her this summer, I got it- the appeal- I got it immediately. She has this aura, this charm. She just- she just fucking glows you know? And she’s just- she’s this huge entity and so are you and I’m just,” she lets out a hollow laugh as she shrugs,  “I’m just a girl from Stockton, California.”
“And you’re amazing,” Azzi puts up a hand when Zoe tries to cut her off again, “you are. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you did for me last year. You could have walked away that day and maybe- maybe one day you’ll think you should have. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Zoe. You do deserve better. It’s not a cop out. It’s the truth.”
Since she was younger, Azzi’s always hated endings. This time is no different. The bitter truth is that she probably won’t miss her girlfriend, but she will miss the friend that had gotten her through one of the toughest years of her life. Slowly, Azzi picks herself off of the couch and walks over to a still Zoe, squeezing her left hand once before heading towards the door. 
“Azzi,” Zoe calls out, just as Azzi has one foot out the door, “I hope it works out for the two of you. You and Paige always did just seem inevitable.”
***
She blames the fact she’s currently stuck in the terrible LA traffic, with the word inevitable ringing in her ears, for the way her fingers continuously flicker over the green call button under Paige’s name. Zoe saying her name had been the first time in a week that Azzi had even let herself, in consciousness at least, think of the blonde properly. And now that it had been unleashed, whispers of Paige, Paige, Paige echo through every crevice of skull. The pain and anger that she’d been trying to shield herself from, come barraging into her heart as she’s held captive once again by thoughts of her best friend. 
It would be a lie to say that Azzi hadn’t been hoping for a call or a text to come through. She’d waited two days with bated breath for a friendly quip that would lead them back to their safe haven of just pretend. Instead it was as if they were back to being who they had been before summer of 2022 all over again. Back to being nothing. But this time Azzi had been adamant that if Paige was going to cut her off again, she wouldn’t fight it, not this time. Apparently that resolve was never meant to last and Azzi feels a little pathetic with how desperately she needs to hear Paige’s voice, how desperately she wants to try again. 
The traffic clears just as she presses call and maybe that should have been a sign. Azzi’s not a bad driver per say, but as her dad always said, no one’s a good driver when they’re distracted. The phone rings for too long and she should take that as her next sign and accept it as Paige not wanting to talk, but she lets it continue to ring anyway, as she turns onto a more secluded road. And then-
“Hello,” the voice is unfamiliar and Azzi doesn’t really know Paige’s teammates, beyond Caroline, that well but she’s pretty certain this one doesn’t belong to any of them. 
“Hi uh- who is this?” she manages to get out as her grip tightens on the steering wheel.
“Oh um- this is Rose, Paige’s friend” comes the reply, the word friend said with a sultry lilt and Azzi feels her skin prickle. Hang up. 
“Why are you answering Paige’s phone?” her tone is far more accusatory than she’d like it to be. 
“She’s in the bathroom but she told me to,” Rose answers defensively. 
Azzi hesitates, she doesn’t need to know more except, “does she know who called?”
Because surely if she did, if Paige knew it was Azzi on the other line, she wouldn’t let one of her likely random hookups answer the phone, surely Paige would know what it would do, how it would make her feel. 
“Uh yeah- I told her Azzi called and she seemed pretty sure she wanted me to pick up.”
Maybe Paige does know what it would do, does know how it would make Azzi feel, maybe that’s the whole fucking point. Through the phone she can hear quiet footsteps walking closer, towards Rose. When Paige is close enough that Azzi can make out the sound of her breathing, can almost picture the way her chest is heaving, that’s when the tears finally fall, blurring her vision. 
She doesn’t see the blinking headlights rushing towards her until it’s too late and then she’s swerving. The world around her erupts in motion and light and noise, everything spinning and spinning and spinning. For one moment, as she loses complete control of her car, Azzi thinks maybe this is it. And the most terrifying part of it, is that for a second, she’s not all that opposed to the idea of this being the end. It’s a singular image of her parents in her brain that has her regaining her senses and hitting the brakes as hard as she can. Her tires screech as her car barrels into a tree and her entire body jerks around in her car, her seatbelt leaving burn scars against her neck. Azzi feels her heartbeat going haywire, as everything comes to a halt. 
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rose’s panicked voice echoes. 
“What?” and there’s Paige and even in this wreckage, Azzi’s heart stutters at the sound of her best friend. 
“I think she crashed-”
“WHAT?” there’s frantic shuffling until, “Azzi? Azzi? Hello? Are you there? Fuck. Azzi are you okay? Please say something. C’mon Az. I know you’re there. Can you hear me? Please be okay. Azzi? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Azzi?”
Azzi opens and closes her mouth, trying to answer to the call of her name, but nothing comes out. She feels hot and cold all over at the same and she swears there’s a hand curled around her neck because she can’t fucking breathe. 
“Azzi,” Paige says again desperately, “please say something.”
“P-Paige,” Azzi finally manages to stutter, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. There’s blood rushing to her ears and everything around her feels hazy. 
“Azzi,” and that one syllable is wrapped in so much emotion, “I’m here okay, are you okay?”
No, Azzi thinks, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay. 
“I c-can’t breathe. I think” she grasps at her neck, “I th-think I’m having a panic attack.”
Paige curses under her breath, “okay, okay alright listen to me breathe okay? And try to match it okay?”
“O-okay,” Azzi whispers, pressing her head to her steering wheel as she tries to mimic Paige’s exaggerated deep breaths on the other end of the line. 
“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me Azzi, just keep breathing okay,” Paige’s voice is far calmer than she probably is in reality, “just keep breathing with me okay.”
Azzi closes her eyes as she feels her chest slowly start to loosen up and lets herself be immersed by Paige’s soothing words of comfort. And for a second, it almost feels as if her best friend is right there with her. For a second, Azzi imagines that they’re on a whole other planet, just them in their little world, like it always should have been, like she’d once been so sure it would be. It’s a beautiful dream that reality is quick to gatecrash. 
“Babe, is she okay?” Rose asks, and Azzi’s eyes fly open at the term of endearment. She’s not on a different planet. She’s alone. And Paige isn’t. 
“I’m fine,” Azzi breathes out and then more firmly, “I’m fine.”
“Thank God,” Paige lets out a sigh of relief before her tone turns sour “what the actual fuck Azzi?”
Azzi winces at the loudness, pretty sure she might have a concussion from the way her head had crashed back into her headrest as she’d crashed into the tree in front of her. 
“I’m fine,” she repeats assertedly, as everything around her slowly starts to make sense again. It’s not a lie really, at least not physically. There’s the potential concussion, and the litany of bruises she’s starting to feel all over her body but she’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong internally. Well except for her stupid fucking heart but it wasn’t the accident that had fucked that organ up. 
“You just crashed your fucking car, no you’re not fucking fine,” Paige yells, voice thick with tears. 
“What the fuck do you care?” Azzi bites back, “sorry I interrupted your fucking night Paige. I swear it won’t happen again.”
She hangs up before Paige can say anything else, sitting deathly still for a second. And then she lets herself completely break apart. 
***
74 missed calls from Paige
did u go to the hospital 
pick up ur fucking phone 
dude
azzi
this is not the time for this stubborn bullshit 
PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE 
AZZI 
just say ur ok at least
please 
called ur mom 
said u had a concussion and some bruising 
thats not too bad 
ur so fucking stupid 
it could be so much worse 
please pick up 
AZZI FUCKING FUDD PICK UP UR PHONE 
so u can call carol and not me ok 
thats just fucking perfect
dude i feel like an accident > stupid fights 
so maybe just pick up 
or call me back
u wanna play this stupid game fine 
ignore me for now
but i’mma be in dc for christmas
ur gonna have to talk to me 
i know where u live 
***
The box in Azzi’s arm feels freakishly heavy, like she’s holding the whole world inside of it. In a way, maybe she is. The walk up Paige’s dad’s driveway feels longer than it ever has and she’s fighting the urge to turn back with every step. As soon as she’d seen the vaguely threatening text message, Azzi had decided she would beat Paige to it. The night of the accident had put several things into perspective and Azzi was determined to finally grasp control of her own life. 
It hasn’t been that long since the Cayman Island and so it hasn’t been that long since Azzi’s seen Paige. But when the door opens and she’s face to face with her best friend, despite the dread and anxiety that’s drowning her heart, Azzi still feels that beat of it’s cold but you always make me feel warm flutter in her chest. Paige smiles and Azzi’s arms wobble, drawing the blonde’s attention to the box in her arms. 
“Still a couple of days till Christmas Az, a little early to give me my present,” Paige smirks lightly and Azzi feels a river of hot anger slide around her veins. After everything she’d put her through in the last couple of weeks, the fact that Paige could act so frivolous, as if they were still fine, makes Azzi see red. 
Her voice is icier than the sheet of frost on the ground when she replies, “it’s not a Christmas present.”
Paige’s eyebrows knit together questioningly, “then-”
“It’s all your stuff I had lying around,” Azzi cuts in, trying to keep her voice confident and stable. 
The smile disappears from Paige’s face as she studies Azzi's face, looking for some semblance of emotion beyond the blank stare. 
“What?”
“All the things you’ve left at my house over the years, a couple of t-shirts, a hat, a book and a couple other things, they’re in this box,” Azzi says pointedly. She tries to hand it over but Paige is quick to move away from it, staring at the offending object as if it’s a ticking time bomb. 
“What the actual fuck is going on Azzi?”
“I might have missed some things. Let me know if I have and I’ll mail them to you in the future,” Azzi recites clinically, keeping her demeanour stoic as possible “and of course I would like my things back as well. Not right now of course. You can mail them to me whenever it suits you.”
“Mail back your things? What? What the fuck are you going on about?” Paige asks, a bewildered expression taking on her face. She reaches out as if she wants to shake Azzi but seems to think better of it. 
Azzi doesn’t say anything, as she sidesteps Paige into the house, putting in the utmost effort to make sure no part of herself brushes up against the older girl, knowing the inevitable burst of electricity when they touch would be enough to break her resolve. She places the box of Paige’s stuff on the coffee table in the living room, before turning back to Paige. 
“I’m giving you your stuff back,” Azzi repeats, “I’m giving you what you want.”
“What I want? When did I ask for my stuff back?”
Azzi draws in a deep breath, fighting desperately against the screams of you don’t want this in her own head, “I’m giving you a clean break Paige. I’m letting you go.”
Saying those words feels a lot like free-falling. Her stomach lurches at the way Paige’s features scrunch up in pain and she’d never meant to do that, but Azzi’s so tired. She’s so tired of this push and pull, the way they seem to hurt each other every fucking time, the way things get so close to going right and then go wrong any way. The bitter truth of life, Azzi has forced herself to admit, is that it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, sometimes the darkness wins out anyway. 
“You think-,” Paige stutters, clutching at her chest, “you think this is what I want?”
“Well isn’t it?” 
“Of course n-”
“If I hadn’t called you that night would you have called me first Paige?  If I hadn’t gotten into that stupid accident, would you even have texted me ever again?”
Paige’s silence is an answer in itself . And although Azzi had known it, she can’t deny that there’s a part of her that had posed the question hoping against hope that Paige would have answered it with a resounding yes of course. She thinks maybe she should be used to the singe of disappointment that burns her skin by now but she’s never been immune to Paige’s fire. 
“That’s what I thought,” Azzi says quietly, “I’m tired of running after you Paige. I thought I was done after the Cayman Islands but then I- I don’t know- I don’t know why I called you that night when you- you clearly didn’t want that.”
“Azzi c’mon-”
“It’s my fault really. Because you've always been clear about it and I- for some reason- I just don’t listen. You were clear with it when you told me to go to UCLA and get out of your life. You were clear when you didn’t want me to come into your air BnB. You were clear when you told me to get out of the bathroom last summer. And when you left that night-,” Azzi pauses as Paige’s eyes widen, the words catching in her throat, “when you were gone that morning- every time you didn’t call- every time you didn’t text- you were always clear about it Paige and I- I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”
“You’re being really fucking unfair right now,” Paige accuses, “you’re mad because I didn’t want to be your fucking side whore? I’m so sorry I had more self-respect than that Azzi.”
Azzi blinks rapidly, her face still completely neutral, “excuse me?”
“You wanna blame me for those first two things, fine. But you have a whole ass girlfriend and you wanted me to be what? Just a girl you can fuck occasionally because you feel like it? Who the fuck do you think I am? I deserve so much better than that.”
“I don’t-”
“You wanna know why I left that morning?” Paige asks icily, “I woke up and the first thing I saw is your girlfriend’s fucking i miss you text. All that shit you said to me when I kissed you in LA about not wanting to be one of my groupies or whatever but what did you want me to be Azzi?”
When they were young and naive, the largest fight they’d ever had was about whether or not one of them had cheated in a game of horse. The allegations of cheater from a 15 year old Paige had seemed massive back then, but they pale in front of the accusations of cheater from a 22 year old Paige. It’s not that Azzi thinks she’s some prime example of a good samaritan and she can deal with people thinking she’s not all that, but it’s different when it’s Paige, it’s different to know that Paige could ever think so low of her. 
“You really think I’d do that you? That I’d make you my sidepiece or whatever?”
“What else am I supposed to think about you fucking me while you have a girlfriend?” Paige asks exasperatedly and Azzi flinches at the repeated use of the profanity. 
“Had.”
“What?”
Azzi grips the hem of her shirt, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but Paige, “I had a girlfriend. Past tense.”
“You- you broke up with Zoe?” Paige’s expression morphs from anger to confusion before finally settling on realisation. 
“I never wanted you to be a side piece. You think I don’t know you deserve better than that?” Azzi rubs her temple, as she tries to keep herself steady on her feet, “I know seeing that text hurt you but it’s not like you didn’t know I had a girlfriend. But- but if you’d just waited for me to wake up, god if you’d just talked to me once instead of jumping to conclusions then-”
“Then what?” Paige breathes out and Azzi doesn’t miss the little spurt of hope that’s taken birth on the older girl's face. 
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Azzi shakes her head, “that’s also past tense now.”
The thing with Paige is that anger is her protective mechanism. When she gets a little close to losing control of her emotions, or feeling too much, it’s what she falls back on so it’s not surprising that her tone is harsh when she speaks again. 
“How the fuck was I supposed to guess you were gonna break up with your girlfriend Az c’mon,” Paige takes a step towards her, “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”
“I never asked you to read my mind. I just- all I’ve ever wanted- is for you to just have a little faith in me- in us,” Azzi’s voice breaks on the last word. 
“That’s not fair. I was really fucking  hurt Azzi-” Paige begins, her voice pleading.
“And then you tried to hurt me back on purpose,” Azzi spits out as the façade of neutrality completely slips off, “you knew it was me calling and you had that girl pick up any way knowing exactly how it would make me feel.”
“Azzi,” baby blue eyes sparkle with tears and Azzi has to force herself to look away, because no matter how much she’s convinced that this is what needs to happen, seeing Paige break, will drown Azzi and she’s barely floating as it is. 
“I don’t enjoy hurting you Paige,” Azzi says softly, “and I don’t think you enjoy hurting me but for the last couple of years, I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing and I- I can’t do it anymore.”
It’s not something she’d ever admitted out loud, or even to herself, but once upon a time Azzi used to think her and Paige would have one of those stories, one of those soft, sappy fairytale-esque stories that had no chance of an ending that wasn’t happily ever after. And she hopes that maybe in another universe, maybe they did have that. Maybe in a universe where she chose UConn and things never went wrong in the first place. Maybe in that universe, they’re happy. But in this universe, they seem to be destined for misery. And Azzi thinks the saddest tragedy of it all, is that it feels like she’s ending a story that never even really got the chance to start. 
“So that’s it then, you’re walking away- you’re just- you’re fucking giving up?” Paige says bitterly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and Azzi feels a flicker of annoyance light up against her ribcage. 
“Isn’t that what you did?” she accuses, “Is that not what you do? You walk away every. single. time. because you can’t deal with things getting just a little too fucking hard. And what? I’m just supposed to wait until you come back? Or chase after you like a pathetic little puppy?”
Paige flinches at the hardness in Azzi’s tone, mouth opening and closing but nothing escaping. 
“I’m so fucking tired of always being the one calling, the one showing up, the one trying. I’m so fucking tired of fighting for us when it feels like you’re fighting against me,” Azzi pauses,trying to blink away the tears she’d tried so hard to keep locked behind her eyelids, “if you wanna call that me giving up then okay, but I don’t think you realize just how fucking hard I want to hold on.”
Azzi’s not sure if it’s the way her voice cracks, or the absolute misery behind every word she says, but Paige's hard and cold expression is gone so fast it gives her whiplash. And then her Paige, the girl with the warm eyes and soft heart is back, looking at Azzi in a way that makes her want to believe in them all over again. Arms outstretched, Paige takes a step forwards and there’s nothing more Azzi wants then melt into them. It takes everything in her to step away instead. For a moment there’s nothing but them staring at each other in silence, a moment where Azzi tries to memorise everything about Paige just in case this is the last time. And then-
“What if,” Paige begins softly, “what if I entered the draft?”
Azzi looks at her in confusion, “what does that have to do with anything?”
“The Sparks have the second pick, it’s where I’m projected to go,” Paige bites at her lips, peering at Azzi through her eyelashes. 
The Sparks. The Los Angeles Sparks. 
“Is that what you want?” Azzi asks quietly, trying to prevent her brain from already coming up with dreams of stupid picnic dates at the park during sunset. 
Paige hesitates. And it’s enough for those dreams to crumble, because Azzi knows Paige just a little too well, knows exactly what that little bit of hesitation means. 
“I haven’t decided yet but if- if there was a reason that I should-”
“There isn’t,” Azzi says firmly, “it’s not what you want.”
“I don’t even fucking know what I want,” Paige argues and that doesn’t make it any better. 
“Then figure it out,” Azzi yells, frustratedly rubbing her hands over her face, “I won’t deal with you fucking resenting me and running away again in a couple of years- hell in a couple of months- because you regret your fucking decision.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“Please just stop. It's done. I’ve made up my mind” Azzi begs, exhaustion flooding into her body, “just- just let this go please.”
Paige meets her eyes with a stubborn fire, “I don’t fucking want to.”
“Well tough luck because I do.”
“Azzi,” Paige pleads desperately, trying to block Azzi as she beelines for the door, but the younger girl is quick to push past her. 
“Goodbye Paige.”
***
December 2024 
azzi please just let me in 
ur parent are saying u dont wanna see me 
and i get it 
but i can fix this i swear 
i know u know im here
please fucking let me in 
i fucked up 
i know 
im so fucking sorry
but dude we can fix this
just 
can u just fucking let me in
i really wanna see u 
i really wanna talk 
can we just fucking talk 
please 
merry christmas az
u know what fuck u actually 
didnt mean that sorry 
i was just mad 
u make me really fucking mad 
christmas breaks almost over 
i have to go back soon and ik u do too
we should talk before that 
ur so fucking stubborn 
but so am i
im not giving up 
i won’t 
January 2024
hi 
i miss you
ur really fucking annoying
not texting me back
but its fine
i’ll just fucking spam 
i had an ok day today 
practice was kinda ass 
not me tho
i was great
as always 
bet i made more threes than you did 
bro im watching ur game
and
what the fuck kinda airball did u just throw up 
get in the gym az jfc 
oh that was a good pullup
not better than mine
but decent 
been a fucking month azzi 
just fucking call me back 
or text me idk 
i miss u 
sooooooooooo
hows ur day
good? good.
hows mine?
oh kinda shit 
lets see
we lost in front of all these uconn legends
to their fucking rival 
everyones saying uconn fucking sucks 
some people are saying i suck
they might not be completely wrong 
now would be a good time to reply az 
like maybe make me feel better
fuck u actually 
what the fuck am i doing 
idk if u even read these 
February 2024
idk maybe i should stop 
like maybe only fucking psychos do this 
but idk bro 
i feel like ur gonna text me back eventually 
well sc was a shit show 
i mean we knew it but holy shit 
i really wanna talk to you about it
it’d mainly just be me fucking yelling 
and u giggling 
fuck i miss ur laugh
i miss you
idk if u just ignore these
so idk if ur gonna even see this 
but 
i wanted to tell you first 
before u saw it from somewhere else 
im staying at uconn 
u were right
i didnt want to leave yet 
i want my 4 years
but 
just dont think it means i didnt mean what i said
that i dont wanna be in la with u
i do
its not about that
i just need to do whats best for me
and thats staying here 
fuck
i get what u meant now
u didnt pick ucla over me
fuck fuck fuck 
im sorry az
is this how u felt 
when i didn’t text u back 
because it’s actually fucking hell 
i miss you so fucking much dude
i’m so sorry 
i’m really fucking sorry azzi 
for all of it
please just call me back
March 2024
last pac-12 tournament mvp!!
dude i’m so proud of you
we also won 
idk if u heard 
it wasnt easy either 
everything just always fucking goes wrong 
fucking pisses me off 
but oh well 
u know i dont even like texting 
idk how many messages ive sent u 
its gotta be hundreds atp 
insane shit on my part 
tf is wrong with me 
did u see the bracket
see u in the final 4 azzi 
April 2024 
i fucking told u 
i told you id see u in the final four
fucking meant it
fuck 
gonna kick yalls ass
revenge szn
we’re built different in march
cleveland here we fucking go 
but also
cant avoid me anymore 
i cant fucking wait to see you az  
***
UConn 87     UCLA 84 
There’s six seconds left to go and UCLA has control of the ball. The game today had been completely different from the on down in the Cayman Islands. That one had featured a UCLA team that had dominated from start to finish versus a UConn team still reeling from multiple injuries. This time around, UCLA seemed to have lost some of their shine and UConn had been on a tear. She would never give Paige the satisfaction of knowing it but her stupid goading, her incessant smirking because UConn seemed poised to win handedly, had gotten in Azzi’s head for most of the game. The fourth quarter had seen UConn enter with a 11 point lead that had held study until the last two and a half minutes when something had finally clicked for Azzi. 
“Told you, you should have fucking come to UConn,” Paige had sneered while casually dribbling the ball and that had been enough to break Azzi out of whatever funk she’d been in. All of her anger and frustration at Paige seemed to culminate into that one moment as she’d swiped the ball straight from Paige’s hands, narrowly avoiding a foul. An easy steal-and-score layup was followed by two signature three pointers, created by her team’s defence, and suddenly the lead had been cut down to three. On the other side, Muhl had been called for an offensive foul and immediately Coach Close had called for a timeout to advance the ball. 
When both teams get back on the court, Azzi, with her competitive streak in full control of her emotions, relishes in the way Paige’s face is contorted up in frustration. But it isn’t just this game that has Azzi irritated. Paige had been relentless since both teams had landed in Cleveland in trying to corner Azzi. She’d known it was gonna happen since she’d read the text but still Azzi had hoped that maybe the blonde would just let it go, would understand just how much Azzi didn’t want to have to deal with this. Because seeing Paige hurts. All the missing and yearning of the past few months seemed to have blended into this ball of tight hot pain that had burst the minute Paige had smiled at Azzi. She knows Paige means well, and it’s taking everything in her to ignore the part of her that’s secretly enamoured by how hard the point guard is trying finally, but Azzi just can’t do it again. She can’t let Paige in again and then spend every other second scared that Paige will run away again. 
The whistle blows and Charisma gets ready to inbound the ball. The play call had been to just get it to Azzi but it’s clearly one that UConn had anticipated, because she finds herself swarmed with Paige and Muhl both trying to make sure she doesn’t get the ball. Instead, it’s Kiki who gets the ball and the countdown starts, as Azzi fights to get herself free, running off of screens, to get herself open on the three point line. It takes too much time and they don’t have any more timeouts left. Kiki throws it inside to Lauren who misses the layup but gets her own rebound and somehow the ball finally finds its way into Azzi’s hands. And with barely a second left to go, and Paige’s hand firmly in her face, Azzi throws up a prayer. The arena goes deathly silent as the ball hits the back and then circles every inch of the rim before spilling over the edge and falling straight into Edwards’ hands. 
The crowd erupts in deafening cheers as the UConn bench rushes to the court, jubilantly hugging each other with Paige in the middle. Azzi blinks rapidly, refusing to be caught shedding a single tear on camera. Her teammates look distraught and Azzi feels disappointment curling into every crevice of her skin she’d almost had it. In the grand scheme of things she knows that, that shot would have only guaranteed overtime and not a win but still, it wouldn’t have meant a loss. And she knows this one isn’t completely on her either but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the burden of it on her shoulders any way. 
But despite it all, seeing Paige’s bright smile stretch all over her beaming face as she celebrates with her team, soothes the sting of the loss just a little bit. Azzi still remembers late night calls and Paige’s broken voice too well, her brain imprinted with the misery of a girl who had just wanted to play the sport she loved and couldn’t. And even if everything between them resembles the remnants of an earthquake, Azzi can’t help but be just a little bit happy for Paige. 
The handshake line is better this time around with no one being unnecessarily hostile. One team is too happy to care and when Muhl briefly hugs her, Azzi can’t help but be a little shocked by the affection. Her team is too despondent to be mad, and Angela briefly nods at Paige when shaking her hand, and gets a reassuring grin in return. Azzi has to force herself not to run away, if only for decorum’s sake, once she and Paige finally get to each other. Trying to keep herself steady, she reaches out her hand to counter Paige’s outstretched arms. The smile falls a little bit from Paige’s face as a more resigned expression takes its place. 
“Good game Bueckers,” Azzi manages to muster out. 
The last name stings but Paige does her best to not let it show, “good game Az.”
***
When there’s a knock on the door to her hotel room a little bit after 10pm, Azzi knows exactly who it is. The look that Charisma gives her as she goes to open it, suggests that she does too. 
“Oh thank fucking god, I thought maybe y’all left already,” and there it is, Paige voice echoing through her room and from where she’s perched on the edge of bed, her feet dangling over the side, Azzi catches a brief glimpse of the UConn point guard. 
“Had a little bit of a transportation issue. We’re not leaving til tomorrow morning,” Charisma explains, “what are you doing here Paige?”
Paige shuffles her feet nervously at the doorway, peering over Charisma’s frame in the doorway to catch sight of Azzi, “can I talk to Azzi?”
“First you kick my ass in the final four, and now you wanna kick me out of my own room?” Charisma asks, voice light but there’s an edge of seriousness to it. 
“I-uh-” 
“Az,” Charisma turns to Azzi with a questioning look, and Azzi sighs at having all the attention on her, “you wanna talk to her?”
Say no. Say yes. Her head fights with itself. And for the last few months, Azzi’s done well with listening to the logical part of her brain, diligently sticking to letting go. But that had only been easy to do because Paige hadn’t actually been there. Now that she is, with bright hopeful eyes fixed on Azzi, well, this time the emotional side wins out. She nods her head in yes at Charisma and Paige seems to glow all over. 
“You’re lucky it’s me and not Angela or Kiki or any of the other girls,” Charisma warns, “but I swear to god Bueckers if I come back and there’s a single tear-”
“Then you have my permission to fucking murder me,” Paige vows, her face a paragon of sincerity. 
Charisma nods once, stepping aside to let Paige in. The Bruin’s point guard looks at Azzi once more for confirmation and then, satisfied by the small smile Azzi shoots at her, she leaves the room, letting the door shut behind her. And then it’s just Paige and Azzi and the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seem to always linger between them. 
“Hi,” Paige says softly. 
Azzi stares up at her with tired eyes, “shouldn’t you be celebrating or something?”
“Still one more game to go. Gotta lock in for that first.”
“Then go do that. What are you doing here?”
Paige flinches at the harsh tone and Azzi feels a wave of guilt come over her. She doesn’t mean to be so hostile but she’s scared that if she gives in just a little, all of her will go tumbling down. 
“Sunday is the most important game of my life,” Paige says quietly. 
“I know- I know it means a lot to you.”
“It does,” Paige nods, as she takes a step forward, hesitating for a second, before she drags a foot stool over, so she can sit right in front of Azzi, “will you stay for it?”
“That’s not-,” Azzi sucks in a deep breath, her senses muddle by having Paige so close to her again, “I thought I was clear about- about us.’
“You were but I thought I was clear with my texts,” Paige counters. 
“Paige please.”
“I just-,” Paige pauses, leaning forward and staring intently at Azzi, “I don’t know how the national championship is gonna go. I don’t know if we’re gonna win or lose but I just- I know that no matter what happens, I want you there. Because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. I just- I just want you there. With me. Always.”
Everything else floats away and for a moment, all Azzi knows is Paige, and the warmth that reverberates through her body at the earnestness in those words. If she could, she’d capture that feeling in a bottle and keep it forever. Because moments are fleeting. And when her brain catches up to her heart, and that voice in her head is back to echoing it won’t last, Azzi feels cold all over again. 
“You don’t believe me,” disappointment echoes in Paige’s voice; she’s always been a little too perceptive of Azzi’s emotions, “you think I don’t mean it?”
“I think you mean it now. I don’t think you’ll mean it forever,” Azzi shrugs. 
Paige is quiet, nerves on full display, as she cautiously reaches for Azzi’s hands with both of her own, an audible sigh of relief floating out of her lips when Azzi lets her. 
“I know I fucked up,” she begins quietly, thumb caressing Azzi’s palms, each trace sending jolts of electricy through the younger girl’s body, “like really fucked up and I get why you think that. I get why- why you’re so scared to believe me. And I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
A teardrop rolls down Paige’s cheek, falling onto their intertwined hands, and Azzi feels herself flinch, her own eyes beginning to glisten. 
“If I could go back in time, I’d change so many fucking things. I’d go back to the beginning- back to your room the night before you went to LA and- and I’d tell myself to shut the fuck up. I’d tell you that I supported you- that I understood that you weren’t choosing UCLA over me- and I’d- I’d tell you that it didn’t matter how many fucking miles away from me you were- we’d survive it. But I can’t- I can’t change the past. I can’t change that we fought. I can’t change that- that I was a fucking idiot for ignoring you for a year. I can’t change that I was a dumbass for leaving that morning.”
Tears are freely streaming from both of their eyes now as they grip each other’s hands tightly. There’s something cathartic about finally being able to cry, about finally being able to mourn the loss of what could have been together.And it feels a little bit like healing. 
Paige looks up at Azzi through watery eyelashes as she continues to speak, her voice wrecked with emotion, “and I’m not gonna make promises about how I’ll never do shit to hurt you again because god knows I can be really fucking stupid.”
They let out simultaneous giggles at that and Azzi can feel something in herself unravelling. 
“But what I can promise is that if you let me, every day- every fucking day that I live- I will try. To not hurt you. To make it up to you. To fix this. To fix us. And I can promise, that I will never ever fucking run away from you again. I know- I know it’s gonna be hard but I swear- I fucking swear- that I will stay right here and face it with you.”
“Paige,” Azzi whispers helplessly. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear and it’s too much. The voices in her head are too loud again, screams of she’ll hurt you, she always does, let her go colliding with shouts of it’s Paige, it’s your Paige, hold on to her. 
“You said- you said you were tired of fighting alone but you never- you never have to do that again because- because I’m here now. Fuck- Azzi I’m here. And I know- I know there’s so much we have to talk about and so much we still have to fucking deal with. But we can do that- we can- we can deal with anything. Because it’s us. Paige and Azzi. We can do anything. Together.”
Paige presses her forehead to Azzi’s, pulling their interlocked hands to her chest. They’re breathing in sync and Azzi can feel the thrum of Paige’s heart beat against her fingertips. Azzi’s eyes close of their own accord, as Paige’s lips brush over hers, her next words coming out in a breathless whisper. 
“Believe in me- believe in us just one more time, please.”
64 notes · View notes
maraudersmyloves · 1 day
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hiii, congrats for the 750 followers!! 🎉 the event is so creative and adorable too, i'm in love with it <3 can i please get a thornless rose, pink, with statice and tree fern (the prompt being "can we stay just like this?") thank you anyways, i love your blog!!
thank you for requesting!!
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CUT AND ARRANGED JUST FOR: anonymous
⊹˚₊˚꒰🌹・꒱ THORNLESS ROSES ; James Potter, golden retriever x black cat, Fluff
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⊹˚. ౨ৎ can we just stay like this?
Pairing: James Potter x reader Warnings: cussing Word count: 739 Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!! "lazy mornings". :☆。゚. ───
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You often wish for the morning to last longer. Your dorm mates wake up expecting to hear you grumbling about how it's way too early and the air is too cold. The only thing that gets you to shut up about it is the breakfast, even though it's not the best you appreciate any warm food in the morning. So, when you decide not to show up to breakfast on waffle day it raises some questions.
You, however, haven't bothered to think about something as mundane as breakfast when you're in James' warm arms. You've been awake for at least an hour but chose to stay still listening to the calming heartbeat in James' ever-rising chest. He's been awake for even longer than you, but can't bring himself to do more than mumble quiet "I love you" s into the warm and slightly stuffy air. He pulls you impossibly closer, knowing what's about to happen.
His last-minute alarm is going to go off in about five minutes, meaning he really has to get up. But then he wouldn't be hugging you anymore, so… Instead of thinking about the breakfast he's missing and the places he has to be he opts for simply looking at you. Your face is snuggled into his chest, hiding your gorgeous face from his view. Since he can't admire your beautiful features, he lets his eyes scan your relaxed posture.
Your legs are intertwined with his, with one hiking up higher than the other, while your arms circle his waist and he can't help but sigh in adoration as you wiggle around to get even more comfortable,
James loves moments like this, but sadly it is disrupted by a high-pitched alarm going off from his desk. It's a good trick, really. To have the alarm far enough away that he has to stand up to stop the disgustingly loud beeping but god does he loath himself for doing it. You don't seem too fond of it either as you release a muffled but originally very loud scream into his chest.
"God, James! What the fuck kind of alarm is this. Put it out, won't ya??"
He chuckles. He goddamn chuckles at you as if a war crime wasn't being committed to your ears. God, you hate him.
"Can't love," he says with a big smirk as if the alarm isn't even bothering him. Of course, it isn't. Nothing bothers the great James fucking Potter. You would've thought he cared more about still having fine hearing when he's thirty but guess not. Then again if this continues he won't even live till twenty-one if you've got something to say about it.
You breathe out through your nose, irritated as you answer, "Why the fuck not?" And he looks like he just found a pot of gold under a goddamn rainbow. God, you want to kiss slap him!!
"You're laying on me, darling."
Oh.
Well, guess he really couldn't.
Maybe you should apologize. You do feel a bit bad, nonetheless, you roll off him with a huff and a small glare. Can't let him know he's defeated you.
He stands up after giving you a small kiss on the nose and walks over to his desk to put an end to the noise. When he does, he can see and hear you calm down. You exhale and your whole face relaxes, you're eyebrows unscrunch (is that even a word??) and your eyes go from squeezed close incredibly tight to slightly open. You're lying on your back now, body covered in his oversized shirt and giant blanket.
You look at him sweetly and he knows he's going to have to ask Remus for notes later because he wants nothing more than to spend the day here, cuddled up with you.
Apperantly, you don't agree.
You move to get up but before you're able to do more than put away the blanket James is covering you in his body instead. And he will not let you go. "Jamie," you whine. "We have to get to class."
He kisses your neck, "class is boring."
You try pushing him off you even though you know you won't be able to lift his muscular body off you. The fact that you don't really want to doesn't help either. Sadly, though, you have common sense. "For you maybe. I actually have to study."
"I'll help you later. Can't we just stay like this?"
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72 notes · View notes
queer-n-here · 3 days
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UHM-UHM-
Yeah I have no shame to just not ask anonymously- anyways!
May I please request a 6'1 reader who is stoic, bold, also handsome as Dazai but ain't a womaniser, and is VERY quiet. With Dazai. He works at the ADA with him. He follows Dazai around like literally, he acts and opens up more to Dazai than he does with others, he literally doesn't care if Dazai was In the pm (they met at 14) or abt his crimes, he can read Dazai's emotions And can see through him, they R lovers, he is loyal asf to Dazai. He Also is rich asf and has better fashion tastes! Pls make both a oneshot or hc or ANYTHING ABT THEMMMMM
(I'm very desperate BC of a certain fantasy of mine)
Ah, I gotchu you bruv.
[ Also, let's do a little quiz. What country do y'all think I originate from? Like, based on my language and writing and just... Yeah.]
And yep, I'm double posting today!
Canonically, there are no mentions of Dazai's past before the Port Mafia, so I made stuff up. Hope you like it!
Contents: Uhh...a lot. I got... *winces* I got carried away.
Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, suicide and violence, Dazai's life is sad and so are these hcs.
You and Dazai met when you two were 14 each. It was a chance encounter, really. Both of you were orphans, and both of you were ability users, even though Dazai knew more about his ability than you did yours.
Both of you currently had no one in the world. That was the key factor that brought you two together. Struggling to get by and find a place of your own in the world, you met.
Neither of you opened up at first, cautious and calloused as you both were. It just happened; it didn't happen one particular day, and before you two had realized, you'd become each other's sole support.
You turned fifteen, and three months later Dazai met Mori.
He told you about it later, describing in the sort of detail no one else would get to hear how he'd rescued the Port Mafia leader from an enemy gang, unintentionally impressing him and securing Dazai a place in the Mafia.
You didn't like it. The job was dangerous, and you didn't want Dazai's hands to get stained with blood. When you told him this, he laughed it off, and said that he could handle it. You dropped the matter.
He was wrong.
You watched as Dazai changed, despite his promises and assurances. He grew ruthless, cruel in a way that made you ache as you watched him, silent. He started hating everything, even himself, and sometimes you thought he hated you, too.
He had a beautiful heart, you knew. But Mori was destroying it.
You talked to Mori about it, too. You might not have anything on him, yes, he was richer and way more powerful, but you had your ability, and you were ready to fight to death. Before you could, however, Dazai intervened.
That was the first time you two fought. After that, you went to him and told him you wouldn't care if he didn't want you to. If he wanted to keep going down the path that he'd chosen, you wouldn't stop him.
Sometimes, you look back and wonder if there was something you could have done for him other than what you did. You still can't think of anything.
You opened up a small business after that, and it slowly grew to a scale larger than you had expected.
Then you two turned eighteen. Finally, you were able to register your enterprises under your own name, being a legal adult. You and Dazai got wasted that night, and you watched fondly as he tried and failed to put his coat on so you two could go and meet Ango and Odasaku.
They had probably begun then, your feelings for Dazai. You were only comfortable enough with him to actually talk, and not just say what was absolutely required and then shut up.
He knew you in a way no else did. No one else knew what it looked like when you smiled, or threw your head back and laughed freely. No one else knew what it was like when you cared, when you brought over Dazai's favorite refreshing drink every time you visited him in summer. Or when you helped him change his bandages, touch gentle and careful against his soft skin.
And you knew him the way no else did. No one else knew what it was like when he was genuine, when he'd look up at you with earnest eyes. No one else knew what it was like when he flushed slightly, the red of his skin always starting from the tips of his ears and descending to his cheeks. No one else knew what it was like when Dazai protected, when he offered to use his contacts in the Mafia to get rid of your competitors, even though you declined every time. He had enough blood on his hands without you pitching in.
Eight months after that, he left the Port Mafia. He came to your apartment crying that day. His face was ashen, his shirt was covered in blood and his lips were trembling. The tears that had been collecting in his eyes for who knows how long finally spilled when he saw you, and the only thing you could do for him in that situation was open your arms and let him cling onto you. He kept saying 'Oda's dead... He's dead...'
That night, Dazai changed. Thankfully for the better. That flame in his eyes was gone now, the one that made you worry if he would burn himself and the world.
Dazai slowly stopped hating after that. You and Ango were the only two he trusted, the only two he would be genuine with. He didn't close up in a way that hid his smile, or in a way that made him withdraw from people. Quiet the opposite. He pushed himself outward, adopting a cheery persona that joked around and bewitched everyone.
The only smiles that weren't created but slid across his face on their own were ones that he smiled with you, and Ango.
You couldn't help but feel slightly bittersweet. Dazai was out of that hellhole, that cursed gang that was making his heart black. But Odasaku was dead.
After that, as your twenties arrived, Dazai joined the Armed Detective Agency. You were happy, then.
You two celebrated at a lavish restaurant. Your business had grown to be Japan's No. 1, and the money that spilled in with it was something neither Dazai nor you had expected.
But your hopes for the ADA were too high. Sometimes, Dazai still wanted to leave. He said he wanted to kill himself, and even though he would always laugh it off, you couldn't help but notice that his eyes would always grow hollow when he spoke of it.
And so the only thing you could do was love him. You loved him and tried your best to let him know, buying him unnecessary gifts and putting him on top of your mental priority list. Even your staff knew you loved him; it was apparent and obvious.
Dazai was probably the only one that didn't notice it, that genius dumbass.
And so you tried harder. You had never been good with words, but you tried to be vocal about your feelings, telling him he was cute when you thought so, and saying that he looked good when he did.
Dazai still didn't notice. The day he found out was when you got drunk and blurted it out.
You still don't have a lot of memories from that night, and Dazai says that you passed out soon after confessing. He finds it funny now, even though he didn't back then.
Your confession made Dazai pull up a wall against you. This surprised you, hurt you, and you tried apologizing, tried to get him to just talk to you. You told him that it didn't matter if he didn't return your feelings.
Something was hurting Dazai, you could tell. But he just wouldn't talk to you, going so far as to changing his phone number without telling you.
So you showed up at his workplace. Kunukida knew you by sight; you often came to pick Dazai up from work. You two had a big fight, shouting in one hallway of the agency building, making such a ruckus that Ranpo and the others came over to watch.
It ended with Dazai turning around to leave, and you were planning to let him go. But then you saw a tear glisten at his cheek last moment, and hence gave chase.
You chased him down all the way from Yokohoma to Kawasaki, only stopping when Dazai collapsed in the middle of a street, his frame shaking with sobs as he started hyperventilating. You crouched down beside him and pulled him to your chest, rubbing his back and conducting his breathing, your voice soft as it told him to inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale....
He fell asleep on your shoulder, in the middle of nowhere. You carried him back to your house, and tucked him into a warm bed. The next morning, he wouldn't meet your eye.
Usually, you would have let him; there was hardly anything that Dazai would do that you would disapprove of. But lately, you had been going against his wishes a lot, so you decided to do that one more time.
When he tried to leave, you pinned him to a wall and forced him to look at you. It wasn't difficult, Dazai had never really worked out, even as a part of the Port Mafia. His fighting style was more quick and clean moves than brute strength.
It worked well in your advantage as he tried to struggle against your hold and failed miserably, tears collecting in his eyes and threatening to fall.
It was alright after that. You asked Dazai why he tried to run away, and the only thing he said was that he got scared. He chose not to explain, and you chose not to push him.
"Dazai," You said. "If you want me to disappear from your life, I can do that." He looked up at you, eyes wide and blurred. "But there's one catch. You have to say it. Say it to my face, tell me to leave, and I swear on my own life, I'll vanish. You won't ever see me again." And then the tear that had been collecting in his eye all this time fell, sliding down his cheek and onto the collar of his shirt. His arms went limp in your hold, and he wobbled forwards. You caught him as he fell, and he sobbed into your shoulder again. His hands were clutching at your shirt as if for dear life, and even as you rubbed his back, more tears fell from his eyes. You held Dazai through his breakdown. The next time he spoke to you, he said the words, "I like you too much." It was a silent confession, almost muffled into your shoulder as the post-crying exhaustion overtook. You pulled him closer and pressed a kiss into his temple.
Now, everything is good. Dazai's job at the ADA does worry you sometimes, even if it's for the good, it's dangerous, but you know he loves his job, no matter how many jokes he makes about Fukuzawa's violation of the Labor Laws. And he loves you, that's all you've ever needed.
Being in a relationship with him is not always easy. He still speaks of dying, and the thought of him leaving you makes you panic. Sometimes, you still don't know what to do to make him feel better. But you manage to work through it.
You love Dazai, after all. You have ever since you two were kids.
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