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#i think I’m doing well even if I can only do a little a day like I’m understanding it easy so far. don’t think I’ll be able to make anythin
luveline · 1 day
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would you do a james fainting fic 🙏🙏
—James doesn’t like you, but he’ll come to your rescue. fem, 1.5k The office is hot. 
James dabs at his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Remus rubbing his eye. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
You look up from the paper on your desk. When you realise he isn’t asking you, you look away, your lips pressing into a tight line. James tries not to show he’s noticed. 
“Fine,” Remus mutters. “Fucked off ‘cos of the portal changing again. I hate these long passwords.” 
“Are you hot or is it just me?” 
You clear your throat. Usually, unless it’s Remus who’s spoken first or James has said something you find ridiculous, you won’t interrupt. “I’m really warm,” you say, “do you think I can open the window?” 
“Like you can reach it, shorts. I’ll do it.” James jumps up from his seat. Whether you’re short or not has nothing to do with it. James is taller, and he holds it against you diligently. 
He rounds your desks. The sun is worse on his skin than the heat alone. He can’t imagine how awful you must feel to have it on the side of your neck all day; in the half minute he stands there opening the window, the heat makes him queasy. 
He tugs the blinds down enough to shield you. It’ll help the entire office, he thinks. Not just you. If you thought he was doing something nice you’d only interrogate his motives until you both turned irate, and that’s the last thing anyone needs today. 
James isn’t sure how you and he ended up not liking one another. He’s never met anybody he didn’t like that wasn’t a massive wanker, and you are but you’re not, not really. When you first started he’d actually thought you were cute, and funny, if a little quiet. It didn’t matter because James is used to quiet people. But one thing turned to another, he’d used your mug without washing it, you’d left him off of the department emails for the quarter, then the snipping started. Constant nitpicking and bickering. You make it too easy, and so what if he likes how you look when you’re mad? It doesn’t hurt anybody to put your mug in the stockroom and your lunch on a different shelf. If anything, he’s keeping you vigilant. 
You don’t look vigilant. You don’t say anything as James sits back down, even though he hits his knee for the hundredth time on his desk. You usually love it. Sometimes when you’re tired he does it on purpose to give you a reason to keep going till 4:30. 
“Are you okay?” James asks finally, eyeing your face. “You look funnier than usual.” 
“I’m fine.” 
“Are you sure?” He should stop being mean. You look like you’re gonna pass out. 
Remus peeks over his computer screen. “You don’t look well,” he says. 
“I’m fine.” You roll your seat back. 
James pushes back at the same time. “Wait a second–”
You’re standing before James can stop you, but he stands up anyways, and he takes your elbow into his hand though he shouldn’t. You give him the most peculiar look, almost like you’re enjoying his touch, just for those two seconds, before your chin dips down and your eyes squeeze closed, and all of you goes slack. 
James grabs you at the precipice of a bad fall. 
You’re still as a doll in his hands. He leans back with a quick sigh, his arm curling over the small of your back and upward. Your legs aren’t holding your weight, and you begin to slip. 
James could keep you up, he doesn’t go to the gym for nothing, but Remus rushes to his aid and pushes your chair back, helping him set you down on the floor. “What do we do?” Remus asks urgently. 
James puts his hand behind your head. You’re slack. When he touches your face, your skin is as hot as the heart of a furnace. 
“Can you get some water?” he asks Remus. 
James is peculiarly calm. He knows you’re just hot, it’s not uncommon for people to faint in high temperatures, and he’s honestly confident in his ability to look after you. It’s very sad to see you unwell, of course, and his heart is beating fast as he takes in your slack mouth. 
“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cupping your cheek gently. He gives your face a little shake, reluctant to be rough with you while you’re vulnerable, even if some force would help. “Hey, can you hear me? You’re okay, can you open your eyes?” 
Nothing. He leans down a touch to listen for your breath, and it’s fine, if a tad fast. 
Remus comes back with a cup of water and Sirius, which is predictable but not super helpful. “Jesus,” Sirius says. “I’ll call an ambulance.” 
“She’ll die of embarrassment,” Remus says. 
“She’s coming around,” James says, patting your cheek, thrilled when your eyelashes twitch. “I think we should go into the break room, is it empty? We can sit her on the sofa.” 
“You don’t think we should do something a bit more drastic?” Sirius asks. 
James feels rather defensive of you. Remus is right, you would die of embarrassment if they called an ambulance, and he’s sure you’re fine. You have to be fine. “She just fainted, it’s so hot in here. Go open a window in the break room and we’ll wait for her to come around.” 
Sirius glares playfully at being told what to do, but he goes, and Remus kneels down beside James with a cup of water. Someone from the front of the office asks if you’re alright, but James misses what they’re saying as you let out a whine. 
All of a sudden, his attention is fully yours. 
“Hey,” he murmurs. 
Your eyes open slowly, lashes heavy like they’re thick with honey. You take in a deep, deep breath through your nose, and you blink, and you turn into his hand where it’s holding your cheek with all the familiarity of a lover. “James,” you mumble. 
His stomach aches. He ignores it. “You okay? Can you look at me properly? I need to make sure you’re fine.” 
“I’m fine,” you say, face pressed to his hand. 
“Just look at me. Just for a second.” 
You pull yourself with clear annoyance from his hand and open your eyes properly. He can pinpoint the moment you realise who he is, how you're touching, and he can’t explain the pang he gets when you rush up and away from his touch. “Oh, fuck,” you mumble, dropping your head, your fingers to your forehead and your thumb covering your eyes. 
“Hey, don’t move around so much.” He continues to be soft. You might have realised who it is that’s trying to look after you, and you might not want him to, but he’ll be damned if he lets your bickering stop him from making sure you’re as okay as he’d claimed to everyone else. “Are you okay?” 
“Did I…” 
“You fainted. Don’t worry, I caught you. Take it easy, okay? Have this.” 
He presses the cup of water into your hand.
Somewhere behind him, Remus has moved away, and is seemingly fending off the masses of people coming to offer assistance. 
You see them looking at you behind him and cover your face. 
James shuffles forward quickly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let anyone see you. I’m saving this embarrassment all for myself. Please drink your water.” 
“Did everybody see me fall?” 
“They saw us engaged in a loving cwtch. It was very romantic.” 
You sip your water. In truth, you don’t look much better for passing out, and James can’t get the feeling of your face out of his hand. He wants to touch you again, his fingers hesitating an inch from your knee. 
“Sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” he says. “You don’t control the weather. Do you?” 
“Of course I don’t.” 
“Then why are you sorry? It was alright. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We just want to make sure you’re okay. Sirius wanted to call an ambulance,” —you visibly baulk— “and I told him no, don’t worry. Then all the attention would be on you, and not me for my valiant rescue.” 
“Was I heavy?” you ask, your mumbling nearly friendly. 
“I can bench press two twenty.” 
“That… doesn’t mean anything to me.” 
“You’re nothing I couldn’t handle, shortcake. Do you think you can stand up? I’ll take you into the break room. You can lay down on the sofa.” 
You make a soft sound James won’t soon forget and put your hand out for his help. He doesn’t have to force you. You don’t have to ask. He helps you stand and keeps an arm behind your back, shielding you from the worried and curious gazes of your coworkers. 
You press your cheek to his chest. 
Remus looks at you both like you’ve been body-snatched, but it’s too late to wuss out now. 
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imaginespazzi · 21 hours
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Part 6: Leaps of Faith
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)
(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst and Fluff
Words: 8.0K
TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3
April 2024 
“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow. 
“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest. 
If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens. 
“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly. 
“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression. 
Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”
“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”. 
“You hate trying new things.”
“I’ve grown up I guess.”
“Azzi.”
“Mom.”
“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”
“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully. 
“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”
Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week. 
“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”
Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings. 
“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”
“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”
“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look. 
“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”
“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”
“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.  
“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”
Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.
Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”
“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”
Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart. 
“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”
“Why do you need to?”
Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”
“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”
Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”
“What if you run away again?”
“Excuse me?” 
“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”
“I didn’t choose Zoe-”
“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”
“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”
“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.
“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”
“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”
“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”
***
The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.
One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe. 
And then Paige looks away. 
And Azzi’s back to struggling for air. 
It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together. 
Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times. 
And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige. 
“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”
A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams. 
“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome. 
It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get. 
As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere. 
Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words. 
“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin. 
“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this. 
“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”
Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”
“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”
She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too. 
“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”
“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”
Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith. 
“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically. 
“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back. 
“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow. 
“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”
“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”
Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever. 
“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against. 
“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”
“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”
“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”
And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home. 
***
July 2024 
The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly. 
There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough. 
Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing. 
“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”
“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”
“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit. 
“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”
Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”
“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too. 
He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”
“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle. 
“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”
Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer. 
“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”
“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter. 
Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”
“I don’t-”
“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied. 
“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”
Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”
“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”
“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe. 
“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed. 
“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”
Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room. 
“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”
Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”
She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place. 
“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.
“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.  
“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”
***
October 2024
Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough. 
“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings. 
“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”
“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly. 
If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand. 
“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe. 
“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”
Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”
“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again. 
“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance. 
“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”
“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship. 
“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”
“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”
Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”
***
“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”
Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically. 
“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”
And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.
“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose. 
“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”
***
Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away. 
“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”
“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?” 
“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically. 
“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”
“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”
“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”
“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale. 
“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”
“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige. 
“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand. 
The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp. 
“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”
Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”
“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever. 
Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks. 
Click. 
And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together. 
***
December 2024 
There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin. 
“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”
“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other. 
“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”
“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”
It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window. 
“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty. 
“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”
“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”
“Exactly. That’s exciting.”
“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile. 
“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.
“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”
“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”
Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious. 
“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand. 
“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”
And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other. 
“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”
And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi. 
“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”
They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them. 
***
April 2025
7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head. 
The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun. 
With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship. 
Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles. 
As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life. 
Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde. 
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 
A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”
Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm. 
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it. 
“Say it again,” Paige demands. 
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”
“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. 
And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.
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cosmos-coma · 22 hours
Text
Sleep Deprived
A/N: still alive!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 1005
Warnings: Unedited, Toot-Rotting fluff :)
Summary: You are far too nice and cannot seem to say no when the team keeps asking you for favors. Now you're ridiculously sleep-deprived and Bucky is determined for you to finally get some rest. (Grumpy Bucky X Sunshine Reader)
Bucky Masterlist
Buy me a Coffee?
_____
Kindness had always been something you prided yourself on; your willingness to help and be patient with others had almost always done you well, but sometimes you were just too nice
First, it was helping Nat go through her old paperwork late one night; she had been in an absolute rush trying to find this old file before the deadline and you didn’t even think of refusing. Then it was Tony, who all but forced you to fill in for one of his lab techs in an overnight experiment. Then Steve wanted help with some confounded modern technology that Sam swore he didn’t have the time to teach him. 
On top of it all you had hardly been sleeping the last few nights anyway.
Where you once felt vibrant and bright was now filled with far-distant gazes and tired smiles. Not that you really noticed, right now you were only focused on opening your eyes again after each agonizingly heavy blink. 
“Y/N are you sure you want to come?” Steve asked, “You look like you could use a 90-year sleep…” he commented with a quiet huff of laughter. 
You barely even registered the joke, instead just smiling sleepy on instinct to his small laugh, “I’m sure, I really do want to go. I promise I’ll be okay once we get going” you assured. The team had been planning this outing for weeks now and you swore you wouldn’t miss it. Not only that but you really didn’t want to miss out on a chance to spend a little more time with Bucky outside of work. 
He had snared you at the very first moment and he didn’t even know it. His bright blue eyes had turned away from their conversation, a small frown on his lips from whatever had just been said, and turned to you instead- jolting you with a force you couldn’t have foreseen. Ever since then your heart had been hooked, its strings unwillingly tangled by the smallest interactions.
Not you’d ever admit that to anybody.
“Doll, I really think you should consider staying home and getting some rest…” your heart thrummed as Bucky spoke, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a look. 
But you only held up your hands, smiling your assurances as you spoke, “I can last a few more hours..! I’ll take a nap as soon as we get back, but I’m sure I’ll last.” 
The other members of the team only looked at each other, sharing doubtful glances but nodding nonetheless- if you really wanted to go they weren’t going to try and stop you. 
“Alright then,” Nat said with a shrug and stood up, “let’s all head out then.”
Everyone stood up at once and you followed suit, your vision swimming as you stood up far too fast. “Whoa.. um, I mean… Whoo! Yeah, let’s do this…!” You took a staggering step forward. You refused to look like you couldn’t keep up and so you pushed through, giving yourself no time for recovery. 
Thankfully there was still one person watching you. Bucky stood up to follow, lingering by your side as the others moved on ahead. He’d tell himself it was purely to watch over you, but he couldn’t deny the lingering urge to be near you. Ever since your first day at the tower when you flashed your annoyingly bright smile at him… he knew he’d never be able to think of anything else. 
You stumbled but quickly caught yourself, your breathing ragged and worn as your body begged for rest. “Doll, please-“ but he didn’t have a chance to finish as you stumbled towards the ground yet again. 
Strong hands shot out to catch you, your body almost completely limp in his firm grasp. “Oh I…” you started, struggling to keep your consciousness and your breath, “Sorry… I’m okay….”
But Bucky only frowned and shook his head,  his hands scooping you up bridal style and he turned to the rest of the team who had stopped to turn back, “You guys go ahead. We’re gonna stay here and get some rest.” He said as he walked back toward the couch, acting as if holding you against his chest was the most natural thing in the world. 
“You don’t have to do that, Bucky…” you mumbled against his chest, your body more than happy to sink into him. 
“Shh, yes I do…” he spoke quietly, the whole room settling into a calm quiet as the rest of the team headed out the door, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Doll… I know you want to be nice, but you’re only gonna wind up hurt.” He chided as he took a seat on the couch and laid back against the armrest. 
Thanks to your lack of sleep you had no shame in rolling on top of him, your cheek squishing against his chest as you let out a tired huff. “I’m not.. good at saying no…” you murmured with eyes closed, sleep coming on fast in your comfortable state. 
The grumpy ex-soldier grinned despite himself, your sweet smooshed face stirring something in his old heart. He pulled a blanket off the top of the couch, draping it over the two of you as you seemed to be in the last thralls of consciousness.
“Bucky…?”
“Yes, Doll?”
“Will you be here when I wake up…? Please..?” Your soft voice asked, your fingers curling around his shirt in an effort to make him stay- but he didn’t need any swaying. 
A grin, as bright as your own, broke through his expression, and he nodded quietly, “I’ll be right here, Doll. I promise you….”
---
And he kept his promise. 
Hours later the rest of the team had finally returned, initially boisterous and full of laughter, they were quickly quieted down by the sight before them. 
There on the couch you and Bucky continued to lay, his strong arms wrapped firmly around your frame with his sleeping face tucked into the top of your head. 
_____________________________
General Bucky Taglist:
@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions
If I missed or accidentally tagged you lmk! Wanna be added General Bucky taglist? Please ask/DM me!
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melrodrigo · 10 hours
Text
music nerds
Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.
A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.
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It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.
“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.
“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.
He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.
When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.
You sigh softly, shaking your head.
Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.
You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.
You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.
They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.
Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.
You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.
Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.
“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.
“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.
“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.
It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.
You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.
“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.
She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.
She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.
You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.
“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.
She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.
Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!
You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.
“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.
You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.
You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.
“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.
“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.
She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.
“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.
“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.
“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”
She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.
“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.
Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.
You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.
“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.
You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.
“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”
She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.
“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.
“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.
She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.
When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.
“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.
You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.
You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.
“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.
Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.
You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.
She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.
But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.
You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.
“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.
It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.
You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.
She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.
“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.
“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.
You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.
“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.
You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.
“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.
His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.
“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.
“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.
You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.
“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.
“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.
You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.
“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.
You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”
“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.
For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.
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catmiemy · 1 day
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Another Chance to Live Part 1 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)
Summary: Ana and you are both struggling with unwanted transfers, but maybe you can at least find happiness off the pitch.
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A/N: This is the first part of a story I've been working on for a while. I guess my way of processing my emotions about Ana's transfer. I've been in the denial stage for a long time 😅
The next two chapters are already written (just need to edit them) and so far it's a total of about 13k words. I'm now at a crossroad which will decide how long the story becomes. So I thought I'd publish the first part and see how much interest there is in a story like this to help me decide.
It felt like a cruel joke of the universe that now, now when you had been forced to leave, the woman you’ve had a crush on for years, joined your team, or well your former team. Words that made your heart crack a little more every time you thought them. Never in a billion years had you expected your team to become your former team.
Ever since you had first laid eyes on Ana you had been dazzled by her, not necessarily only by her looks, although you definitely enjoyed them, but also by her personality and her aura. She always radiated so much kindness and positive energy. It was impossible not to be drawn to her.
Sadly your paths didn’t cross all too often and when they did, Ana was always somewhere in the heart of whatever group you were part of, while you were lingering on the edges, looking in. So the Swiss woman was probably only vaguely aware of your existence, while you soaked up every detail you could find about Ana. The more you learnt, the more you liked her.
 And yes, sometimes when you lay in bed at night you made up little scenarios how the two of you would meet. One of your favorite ones was Ana coming to Atleti, not really knowing her way around Madrid yet, so you take her under your wing and show her everything. And of course she starts falling for you as you spend so much time together. It was your imagination after all, so you could day dream all you wanted.
Now part of this little fantasy was actually coming true, Ana really was joining Atlético, and it frustrated you to no end that now that she came, you were gone.  Although perhaps it wasn’t the universe being cruel towards you, maybe it was protecting you because even if you played for the same team there was no way the Swiss woman would ever go for someone like you.
Still, you spent a good amount of time fuming about it in your apartment. Possibly also because it was easier to focus on that rather than on the fact that your childhood club had just dropped you like you meant nothing.  Every time you remembered the conversation with the club’s managers you felt like throwing up, hiding under the covers for the rest of your life, and ripping off your ears so you didn’t have to listen to one more word from them. So yeah, it was comforting in a weird way to think about your missed chance with Ana, especially since it never had been much of a chance anyway.
It was harder to hold on to that strange comfort when training actually started and you had to go to Real Madrid’s training center every day. Most days were spent attempting to do your best and keep your negative emotions in check, while thinking nonstop about how much you hated this, how much you wanted to return to Atelti, how much you wanted to leave Madrid altogether.
So all in all you weren’t having the best time, barely getting by was actually a more accurate way to describe it. Then a few weeks after the season started you got a call from Lola.
“Sooo I heard you’re doing a lot of moping these days,” she teased you.
However there was an underlying note of worry in her voice. You had done your best to pretend as if Atleti’s decision hadn’t hurt you, that these things happen in football, and you were completely fine with it, but Lola had seen right through it.
“I’m not moping, I’m just quiet and focused like usual,” you quickly defended yourself. It was only partially true, you hated every single second you spent at the training center of Real Madrid.
“That’s not what I’ve heard, but how about you convince me over a cup of coffee. Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”
You didn’t even question how Lola knew that you had the day off tomorrow, apparently she had some spies at Real. As much as you didn’t want to continue talking about the misery that was your new club, you did want to see your friend, so you agreed.
“I might ask some other people if they want to tag along. Everyone misses you,” Lola continued, making you happy and sad at the same time. It was nice to be missed, but you wished you weren’t in a position where you could be missed.
Before you could hang up, Lola told you to bring “your moping buddy Misa”, then she ended the call with a cackle, not giving you any chance to retaliate. In all honesty there was some truth to it, both you and Misa were unhappy at Real, so it wasn’t surprising that she was the only person you had really bonded with so far.
Going by Lola’s words you expected a big group the next day when you entered the café you had agreed upon. What you found however were merely three people, Lola, Misa and no one other than Ana.
Suddenly your stomach was filled with butterflies flapping their wings wildly, making you somewhat nauseous as a result. You hadn’t expected this and you weren’t prepared for it at all. If it wouldn’t have been incredibly rude you would have walked right back out of the café.
Instead you walked over to the small group, doing your best impression of a friendly smile. You could have sworn you saw a knowing glint in both Misa’s and Lola’s eyes. There was no way they knew about your crush though, right?
Lola jumped up when she saw you, hugging you tightly. “It’s good to see you, chica, I’ve missed you,” she told you.
You had to blink a couple of times to chase away the tears burning in your eyes. There was no denying that you had missed her too, all of your former teammates really. You longed to be back at Atlético, and not only because Ana was there.
Right, Ana.
You extracted yourself from your friend and smiled at the blonde. Should you hug her as well? Or greet her with kisses on the cheeks? That’s exactly why you should have been informed that Ana would be there, so that you could think this over beforehand. Or, well, over think it.
Unlike you Ana knew exactly what to do; she got up, greeted you kindly and gave you a quick hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N. We’ve never had much of a chance to talk, so I’m glad we get one now.”
For a few seconds too long you started at her. You were torn between awe, and a little bit of envy, at how easily the Swiss woman had navigated this greeting, and shock. She remembered you? She was happy to see you? Once your heart slowed down from a wild canter to a moderate gallop and your brain was working more clearly again, you realized that this was probably just something Ana had said to make the situation less awkward, not something she truly meant.
“So, do you want to sit down?” Lola suggested with a smirk on her face. Thankfully she left it at that though and you quickly sank down into a chair. You felt too embarrassed to look at Ana, so you completely missed the reassuring smile she sent your way.
After that things went much more smoothly, mostly because Lola and Ana carried the conversation, allowing you and Misa to remain in your preferred role, attentive listener. Your former teammate as well as your crush tried valiantly to draw you out of your shell, but out of fear of saying something stupid, you kept your answers as short as possible without being weird or unfriendly. If only you could think of something witty to say!
On the bright side your relative quietness gave you a good opportunity to study Ana. She was stunning as always, but you could easily spot the signs of the toll this move to the Atlético had taken on her; her smile wasn’t quite as wide as usual and didn’t reach her eyes, her voice was a little duller, there were badly covered up dark bags underneath her eyes and she was a bit more subdued than normal  in general. Man, you really had spent way too long looking at any video of her you could find to notice things like that!
Then all of the sudden Misa let out a gasp. “I completely forgot I promised my neighbor I’d let in her daughter today. I need to leave right now to make it.”
You frowned at your teammate; it wasn’t like her to forget something as important as that. Was something more than her unhappiness with being stuck at Real bothering her? You made a mental note to ask Misa about it the next day, remind her that you were always there if she needed someone.
Misa’s departure didn’t really change anything in the dynamic, she hadn’t contributed much just like you. But then Lola got a phone call from her girlfriend who apparently needed your former teammate urgently. She looked at the two of you apologetically, however you could swear that there was some glee shimmering behind her regretful front.
“You girls should stay here and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Really I’m so sorry about this, don’t let it ruin your day,” Lola babbled, pressing a kiss to both your and Ana’s cheek before dashing out of the café.
You looked after her with confusion. The confusion however was short-lived, quickly drowned out by panic once you realized that you were now left alone with Ana. No more hiding behind other people, no more safety net. You weren’t ready. However leaving also wasn’t an option, there was no way you could do so without offending Ana, so you had to pull yourself together.
“I’m sorry about that,” Ana apologized, bringing your confusion back. As far as you were aware the Swiss woman had absolutely nothing to apologize for.
“They probably planned this because they think I need to be more social again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenni put them up to it, she’s been pretty worried,” the Swiss woman specified, leaving you reeling because you didn’t know how to deal with that much honesty.
“Oh,” you replied, praying that some more words would enter your brain. “Maybe they also did it for me. They think I’m pretty antisocial in general,” you finished, kicking yourself for making yourself look even more pathetic than you already did.
To your surprise Ana didn’t seem put off; on the contrary she chuckled and said, “Well we can be antisocial together then.”
The Swiss woman using the word ‘together’ in reference to the both of you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you could definitely get used to that.
In an attempt to take control of the situation and not end up blurting out something stupid if Ana asked you a question, you inquired how she was liking Madrid so far. It seemed like a normal thing to ask someone that had just moved to a new place.
However the Swiss woman didn’t answer right away, which was atypical for her who always seemed to have a reply ready. That combined with the guarded look in her eyes made you realize that this wasn’t a safe and easy topic for her. In your rush to make sure nothing that would be complicated for you came up, you had totally forgotten that Ana’s own move to Madrid had been anything but a happy occurence. Way to be selfish!
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything, that was such a stupid thing to say,” you apologized frantically
“No, don’t worry, it’s fine,” Ana quickly reassured you. “I just don’t really know what to say. Obviously I didn’t want to come here, I miss Barcelona. Both the city and the team. So I’m not having the best time to be completely honest. Then again I also haven’t given Madrid much of a chance yet. So…”
The Swiss woman’s openness left you stunned once again. This could never be you, sharing your thoughts and feelings so freely. At the same time you noticed with a surge of excitement and dread that Ana’s explanation gave you a good opening, not unlike your daydreams in fact.
Your fear of being annoying and overstepping was battling hard against your longing to get to spend more time with the blonde in the future. In the end you decided to go for it, maybe Ana would appreciate it and if she didn’t want to hang out again, she could just say so. Of course there was still the fear of rejection holding you back, but you shoved that to the back of your mind. If you didn’t ask the answer would always be no, right?
“If you want to I could show you around Madrid sometime. I’ve lived here all my life so I know the place like the back of my hand and know some nice places. Totally fine if you don’t of course, I’m sure there are many other people that could show you around.”
You spoke in record speed, making it hard for Ana to follow, which was why it took her a moment to answer. These few seconds were some of the most horrible ones in your life. If she said no now all your hopes would be shattered once and for all. Everyone always said it was important to know so you could move on, but honestly if the Swiss woman didn’t want to spend any time with you, you didn’t want to know.
“That sounds great, I’d love to,” Ana replied once she had enough time to process your jumble of words.
“Really?” You double checked, the words out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“Yeah, definitely,” the Swiss woman confirmed with a gentle smile. A smile that you returned happily. You hadn’t felt this excited in a while, it was a nice change from the bleakness that had become your constant companion.
The rest of your time together was spent chatting easily. You weren’t a great conversationalist, however with Ana it came much more natural. The blonde definitely did the heavy lifting, but you were happy with your own contributions. You even made her laugh a few times!
Later that day when you were back in your apartment you were much more critical, taking apart every single thing that you had said and coming to the conclusion that you must be the stupidest person on the planet. Thankfully you were going to get another chance in a few days and this time you would be better prepared. You would say interesting things and you would make sure Ana had a great time. The blonde deserved some joy and happiness and you would do your best to give her that.
Before your next meeting with Ana you actually made a plan; you would make a list of her interests and think of possible questions, some jokes and interesting facts you could mention. You spent one evening on it, working furiously and then you realized what you were doing, feeling very foolish all of the sudden. You scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it into the trash with some force.
This was pointless and unnecessary and totally embarrassing! Maybe you weren’t the best at coming up with things to say on the spot, but rehearsing everything like this was a role in a play was stupid. The urge to do absolutely everything to get Ana to like you was huge, however is she only liked this carefully crafted version of you that wasn’t any better than her not liking you at all.
Also, you shouldn’t even attempt to get the Swiss woman to like you. Just like you should keep your own crush in check. Ana’s life was complicated enough at the moment, you didn’t need to add your infatuation into the mix.
Unfortunately your noble plan to ignore your crush failed miserably. Whenever you spent time with Ana you fell a little more for her. It was simply impossible not to when she was the kindest, funniest, most interesting and on top of that most beautiful person in the world.
Like when you were out and about on one of your strolls to the city and a young couple approached you, asking if you could take a picture of them. As was typical for you, you hesitated for a moment; not necessarily because you didn’t want to, but because your mind was already working in overdrive, supplying you with every possible negative outcome.
Ana on the other hand smiled at them. “Of course! Where do you want to take it?”
And then she proceeded to take several pictures of the two, showing them to the couple, and when they weren’t completely satisfied yet, she even offered her own suggestions on how they might turn out even better.
All the way you were just watching them, well mostly Ana, with a goofy smile. You loved how much she cared, how much effort she put into random people she didn’t even know. No wait, you didn’t love that, you liked that, admired it.
Or when Ana convinced you to go into a tiny café. A place you would have never frequented on your own because the intimacy of it freaked you out. Not the blonde though. Within seconds she began chatting with the owner, a middle-aged woman who was thrilled someone showed so much interest in her small establishment.
The cake you got was very tasty as was the coffee and the homemade ice tea. You were quick to admit that Ana had made a good decision by forcing you to go there.
However what really pulled at your heartstring was that the Swiss woman went up to the owner afterwards and asked if it was okay to post about this place on Instagram. The poor woman almost started crying out of happiness and thanked Ana profusely, while the blonde kept insisting that this was nothing and really it should be her thanking the owner.
So it was safe to say that you fell deeper and harder every time you saw Ana. But it was okay, you had a foolproof way to make sure that the blonde didn’t figure it out and therefore her life didn’t get disrupted because of you. Whenever you echoed a statement Ana had made about how much she liked hanging out with you or that she thought you were a great person, you always added ‘friend’ into the mix; “I enjoy hanging out with you too, you’re such a great friend.” and “Aw thank you. You’re one of the best people and friends I know too!”
Sometimes when you were feeling particularly hopeful you wondered if the lack of specification on Ana’s part meant that she liked you as more than a friend. You always discarded the idea quickly though. It was much more likely that the thought of being more than friends was so ludicrous to the blonde, something that had probbly never even grazed her mind, that she didn’t feel the need to explicitly state it.
Despite having to resign yourself to the fact that Ana didn’t like you like that, it still made you happy that she was usually in a good mood when you were hanging out. Something you were secretly very proud of. Still every once in a while her sadness shined through, for example when she heard someone speak Catalan or when she saw something that reminded her of Barcelona.
One time a group of fans came up to her. They were friendly and excited and the Swiss woman matched their energy effortlessly. But then one of them mentioned how sad they were that Ana wasn’t playing for Barça anymore. You were forced to watch the blonde deflate slightly after that thoughtless statement. She was good at pretending though, so the fans were none the wiser.
When they were gone you gathered all of your courage. Up until now you had stayed in the shallows of easy conversation so this was a first and once again you worried about overstepping. But when you saw Ana’s sad eyes and the forcefully pulled up corners of her mouth, you couldn’t stay silent.
“Do you want to talk about it? I mean your transfer from Barça? I know we haven’t really talked about that or othe serious things yet, but I’m always happy to listen. I’m actually pretty good at that.”
The Swiss woman sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.
“That’s very sweet but honestly I’ve been talking so much about it lately. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing anyone wants to talk about anymore. So if it’s okay with you could we just continue like before? The distraction has been helping a lot.”
You had been helping! Happiness flowed through you and your smile was maybe a bit bigger than was warranted for a situation like this. However unless Ana was studying you as intently as you always studied her, you doubted that the blonde would notice.
“Yeah, of course. I’m happy to help in anyway.”
Ana and you kept seeing each other regularly and it was the undisputed highlight of your current life. Honestly it was a little worrying how few other things brought you any joy, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on that.
So when you were put into a situation where you had to cancel on Ana you were devastated. It wasn’t an appropriate reaction to something so small, but you had a ten minute crying session until you could even begin to function properly again. Calling the Swiss woman was out of the question though, you were still chocked up and sniffling.
Instead you texted her, apologizing multiple times and explaining that you were roped into doing all sorts of things last minute for your father’s birthday tomorrow. You could have slapped yourself for not seeing this coming. Sure, your parents had assured you time and time again that everything was taken care of, but you should have known better. Then you could have done it before today and weren’t forced to cancel on Ana.
Only minutes after you had sent the text your phone started ringing with a call from the Swiss woman. With wide, panicked eyes you stared at the screen. In the end your desire to at least hear Ana’s voice if you couldn’t see her won out. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice anything.
 „Hey I just saw your text and wanted to ask if I can help out with anything.”
You smiled at your phone, your heart warmed by Ana’s kindness. There was no doubt in your mind that she would actually follow through on your offer. Not that you would ever take it.
“Aw thank you so much, Ana! But it’s okay really. Most things I have to do at my parents place anyway. You know help them clean and decorate. So I’ll be out most of the day, and then in the evening I’ll have to bake the cake. Who knows how that’s going to go.”
You chuckled, even if you were feeling slightly panicked at the idea of baking. Normally your mother was in charge of that, but she had broken her arm a few weeks ago, so that was out of the question. Moments like this made you wish that you had some siblings or some cousins for that matter, just anyone to help you out.
“Not to brag, but I’m actually a great baker. So if you want some help, I’m happy to come over in the evening and help,” the blonde offered.
It would be nice to have some help, and you always wanted to see Ana. Plus she had brought up the idea of her own accord, so surely it was okay, right?
“That would be great actually. Thank you so much,” you replied, not giving your mind any more opportunity to drive yourself crazy.
Ana and you quickly planned everything out before you hung up and left to do everything else. With the prospect of seeing the Swiss woman later today you were a lot more cheerful than before.
“What’s got you so happy?” Your mother asked you while she supervised the decorating process.
It was incredibly frustrating since she kept criticizing everything you did. Every few minutes you had to step away for a moment, take some deep breaths and visualize how your evening with Ana would be, full of laughter and fun conversation.
“Not this, that’s for sure,” you muttered, low enough so that your mothers whose hearing wasn’t the best anymore, couldn’t here you.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you said louder, “I’m just in a good mood, I guess.”
There was no point in bringing up Ana. Nothing would ever happen between the two of you and even after knowing about it for almost ten years your parents still struggled with your sexuality. To avoid unnecessary conflict and awkwardness you never spoke about women you liked unless it was something serious. So never.
“You should focus on decorating and not smile so much. Maybe then we would get somewhere.”
You rolled your eyes, but kept your mouth shut. No point in pointing out that most parents would be happy if their child was happy. And it wasn’t like your mother wasn’t happy about it, she just wasn’t good at being pleasant around you. Somehow she always felt the need to criticize you.
Hours later you got into your car, quickly drove away and as soon as you were a decent distance from your parents’ house you let out a loud scream, releasing all of the built up frustration. Then you set your focus on the near future, on the fact that you would be meeting Ana in half an hour at your apartment. Baking wasn’t really your thing, but baking with the Swiss sounded like a lot of fun. Anything was fun with her really; just being around her made you so happy.
When you got to your apartment Ana was already waiting for you, leaning against her car. A big smile appeared on the blonde’s face when she saw you and she waved at you happily. It warmed your insides, swept away any remnant of frustration from the long day with your parents, seeing how excited Ana was to see you.
You got set up quickly, putting out all the ingredients and opening up the recipe you had settled on. Then you turned to the Swiss woman expectantly.
“So any baking pro tips from you before we start?” You asked teasingly.
Ana looked at you sheepishly.
“To be completely honest I don’t really know that much about baking. I usually only bake once a year to make some Christmas cookie,” the blonde admitted, scratching her nose.
You frowned at her in confusion. This didn’t really make any sense to you, but you didn’t want to make Ana feel bad about it.
“So why did you say you did?” You asked carefully. „I mean only if you want to tell me, it’s totally fine if you don’t. I’m sure you had your reasons.”
The Swiss woman blushed a little as she explained herself, “I really just wanted to spend some time with you today.”
Your heart started racing at this confession, your hopes going through the roof.  It didn’t take long for the logical part of your brain to bring you back to earth though. Surely this didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. Most likely Ana was just struggling today and didn’t want to be alone.
“Oh I’m sorry you’re having a hard time today. You know you can always tell me that and if it’s possible at all I’ll always make time for you. You don’t have to make up reasons to hang out.”
Ana stared at you with a pained expression. It hurt your heart to see her in pain and it made you wonder if something had happened today, perhaps something that reminded her of Barcelona?
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked when the blonde stayed quiet, but then you thought better of it. “Wait no I’m sorry, you already said that you’re tired of talking about it before and that you prefer a distraction. So let’s bake!”
You put some extra excitement into your voice and made sure to keep up a stream of easy chatter as you got to work. For a while Ana remained a bit distant and quiet, but before too long her smile returned and she began talking and joking.
When the blonde laughed loudly at a joke you had made you felt very proud of yourself for giving Ana what she needed, a distraction. If you continued to be helpful she would keep wanting to hang out with you and that was also very much in your interest. Even if the knowledge that it meant something else to you hurt somewhat every time you thought of it.
However it was all worth it to get to spend time with Ana. Everything was worth that.
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AITA for "forcing" my best friend to break up with his boyfriend?
🧸
I (22 cis m) and my best friend 'A' (21 ftm) have been friends since we were 10 years old and I love him more than anything. He’s genuinely the sweetest, most thoughtful, and funniest person I’ve ever met. He means everything to me and we’ve been there for each other through the hardest times of our lives so far and I plan on staying until the end.
It’s always been us two. Btw, everyone mentioned here uses he/him pronouns exclusively.
A has been with his boyfriend (21 cis m) for about 2 years now, and from what he told me, things were going great. Even if I’m not too fond of his boyfriend. A few days ago, we got pretty drunk at a friend’s housewarming party. A and I live together, and as soon as we got home, he suddenly started rambling about how he wishes his boyfriend cared about him the same way I do.
Legit felt like I was in some dumb romance movie for a moment there. I felt a little uneasy and asked him to elaborate. In short, his boyfriend essentially treats him like a doll instead of a person with real emotions. He feels as though his boyfriend just uses him to get his daily fix of physical affection and sex, that’s it. The only positive thing his boyfriend can say about A is that he’s cute, which boggles my mind. It’s true but there’s so much more to him as a human being.
A is an incredibly talented artist, super kind, super emotionally intelligent, and has a plethora of interests he loves to infodump about. I’m trying my hardest not to make this entire post about how amazing he is. He’s helped multiple friends clean their depression apartments and took them out to get fresh groceries etc. because it’s basic decency to him. He has such a big heart and holds so much love in it for everyone in his life. Being around him is just so easy and makes life worth living.
He’s just an incredible person all around and every single person that has him in their life recognizes that, except his boyfriend. They’ve had issues in the past because they’re not sexually compatible, which led to some miscommunication and made A feel like he was coerced into things he didn’t want to do. He just did them to make his boyfriend happy. He does a lot of things for his boyfriend, actually. He’s constantly buying little gifts, remembering what he likes, and plans cute dates for them to go on. His boyfriend does none of these things.
I want to mention that A has bpd and avpd. He has an intense fear of rejection and will do everything in his power to appease others so they won’t leave him. I always take the time to reassure him that I love him for who he is and not what he can give me. Basically just making sure he feels loved. Keep in mind, his boyfriend is aware of this but he just gets annoyed when A seeks reassurance from him. His behavior has made my blood boil several times in the past already, but I always kept it to myself for A’s sake. If I was vocal about disliking his boyfriend, it probably would’ve caused A a lot of distress and emotional turmoil.
Still, I don’t think this relationship is healthy for A and I know him well enough to know he won’t break it off on his own. It’s just his combo of personality disorders that makes it impossible for him. I told him about my concerns and he agreed, but said he feels bad for his boyfriend since he apparently doesn’t have any friends outside of A. From my POV, it just looks like his boyfriend knows A is out of his league and is grasping at straws to make A stay with him out of pity.
This is where I might be the asshole. I got a little frustrated and raised my voice, which I severely regret. I don’t want to blame it on the alcohol but it definitely had a hand in it. I finally told him about all these grievances I have about his boyfriend, how much I dislike him and how A deserves so much better, etc.. At one point, I essentially gave him an ultimatum. It’s me or his boyfriend. I didn’t really mean it, it was just a heat of the moment thing I spat out. I would never leave him like that.
A started crying and begged me to calm down, at which point I realized how shitty I was being and immediately began apologizing. We hugged, I comforted him, and we spent the rest of the night cuddling and talking about how he could approach the breakup.
Now that I’ve sobered up I feel like absolute shit. I know it’s not my place to tell A what to do with his romantic relationships, even if I’m his best friend. Plus, I want to be 100% honest here and say I might have romantic feelings for A. I think I have for a long time, but I always wrote it off as intense platonic love. So I may be biased in this whole conversation about his boyfriend.
I didn’t say these things because of that. I genuinely think his boyfriend is a huge dick and full of shit, no matter how sweet and loving he pretends to be. It’s all in the way he treats A. He’s one of those guys that paint their nails (nothing wrong with that but you know the kind of guy I’m talking about), pretend to be feminists, and steal their romantic partner’s personality to seem cooler. He even asked A to stop taking testosterone because he didn’t like how hairy A was getting or some shit like that.
He’s pansexual but has only ever dated girls and started dating A before A began medically transitioning. There’s obviously nothing wrong with that and changes nothing about the fact that he’s pansexual, he just pisses me off when he criticizes A for being 'too masculine'. You can have a preference for feminine people but don’t make that shit your partner’s problem when they just want to pass.
I feel like A’s boyfriend just thought A would always stay the smooth, baby-faced twink he was before going on testosterone and now makes him feel guilty for looking like a grown man. Some people don’t know how to appreciate hairy tummies.
Sorry for making this so long but I just want to be as honest and informative as possible to get proper opinions on the issue. A is now dead set on breaking things off because he now knows that I actively despise his boyfriend and he always puts my opinion above everyone else’s.
Was I in the wrong for doing this or am I just protecting my best friend? I’m glad he intends on ending things but I feel a bit like a conniving snake considering everything. It feels like I’m taking advantage of his mental state even if I’m not doing it consciously.
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just a girl 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.
Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
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It isn't your proudest moment. You don't have many of those. There is little remarkable about, nothing of note, nothing admirable. You might stand a bit taller than most but it's rarely given as a good thing. 
You never expected much of life. You resigned yourself to living in the shadows. In particular, you knew you would always bet outshone by your sister's light. You can't hate her for it; it's your own shortcoming. Besides, no one can hate Riannon, she's just that nice. 
You are dark smear on the family name. It's why you didn't even think to ask your parents for help. You didn't even ask your sister, she offered, insisted really. You could never deny her and in this instant, you couldn't afford any other option. 
It’s just for a while, you keep telling yourself. You’ll find a new job and a place soon. For now, you’ll just stay out of the way. It isn’t very hard; you take up much more room than your few possessions. 
You keep yourself holed in the guestroom as you settle into your second day. You have your laptop on your thighs as you scroll the job boards. You have the experience but you expect your reference would be any good. You didn’t exactly end on cordial terms. Starting from square one, though the industry isn’t exactly even ground for men and women alike. 
You hunker down to search through the various postings within your purview. Every classification is ticked off, even the years, it’s just that little note about contacting your previous employers that makes you nervous. Well, you at least have to try. 
A knock comes at the door as you edit your cover letter once again. You sit up and close the computer. You slide it aside and get up. You cross the room and crack the door open. You sister smiles from the other side. 
“Am I making too much noise?” You ask as your music plays music from its tiny speaker. 
“No, no, not at all. Um, so you know Andy is out of town for the day so it’s just us,” she rocks, “and there’s a barbecue down the street so... I thought you could get to know the neighbourhood.” 
You look down at her, the offer catching you off guard. You were prepared to spend the whole day hidden away and poring over job listings. Even when you had your own place, you tended to spend most of your own time inside. 
Still, she is doing you a huge favour and it would be rude to say no. You shrug, “okay.” 
“Great, I have some potato salad I'm bringing,” she chirps.  
“Uh,” you look at her blue checkered capris and pristine white blouse, “should I change?” 
“It’s up to you. I'm just going to get packed up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 
Her excitement is palpable. She probably expected you to say no. You don’t want to let her down again. You’re tired of that feeling. 
You close the door as she bounces away and you retreat to search through your still unpacked suitcase. Your clothes hang over the sides. You pick out a band shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans. You don’t have any shorts and you know your repertoire of dark colours only draws in the sun’s fury, and like of the vaunted HOA, but you don’t have many options. 
You emerge with a pair of converse in hand and head into the kitchen. Rhiannon snaps the lid onto a big bowl as she beams up at you. You don’t understand how you share the same blood, she’s so different than you. Where you’re tall and gangly, she’s small and dainty; where your dour and reticent, she’s bright and bubbly. Your parents even kidded that you must’ve been switched at the hospital. 
“Ready?” She asks. 
You nod and look down at yourself. 
“If you want to borrow a skirt or something, it’s pretty hot out.” 
“It’s fine.” 
You don’t take her offer as any comment on your choice, only genuine concern. If it was your mom, you would know it was more than that. To be fair, your mother is very direct with her critiques. Besides, even if her clothes would fit you, you don’t want to risk ruining any of her things. 
“Alrighty, well, Marge will kill me if I’m late again,” she sings and sweeps around with the bowl. “It’ll be nice to get out, huh?” 
“Mhmm,” you grumble and follow her down the hall to the front door. 
She steps into her wedged sandals as you sit to pull on your converse and lace them up. You stand and get the door for her as she prances towards it. She thanks you and you trail her out. The sun hits you like fire. It’s so hot, though you think some of the heat comes from your own self-consciousness. 
As you catch up to your sister at the bottom of the steps, you slow down to keep from outpacing her shorter legs. Even with her platformed soles, she’s still ahead shorter than you. You turn down the sidewalk as you shy away from the strange faces headed in the same direction. 
“You want me to carry that?” You offer. 
“Hey, I might be small but I can handle a salad,” she chirps. 
“I know, I wasn’t--” 
“I’m teasing. It’s fine, I got it,” she assures you as she hugs the bowl to her stomach, “I just want you to have a good day. Don’t think about everything else, okay?” 
“Mm, okay,” you keep your head down as you slink next to her jouncing steps, “sorry, I'll try not to be too grim.” 
“Whatever, you’re awesome,” she nudges you with her elbow, “you just be yourself and I know you’ll find some good friends around here.” 
You try to smile but it hurts. She always sees the best in others, even when it’s not there. You keep pace with her and turn up another curated lawn. The walk is perfectly laid and the blossom tree sways overhead. 
Rhiannon is welcomed through the open gate by one of those blonde women she has her book club with and you shuffle in with your hands in your pockets. You feel the woman’s harsh gaze and peek up. She looks at you the same way your mother does. Her name is Marge and her friend is Callie and there are dozens of the Stepford-like figures posted throughout the yard. 
“Come, let’s put your salad out,” Marge insists. 
Rhiannon looks at you and you chew your cheek, “go, I'll be fine.” 
She looks reluctant but you’re already walking away. You ignore the smell of sausage and beef rising from the barbeque and the splash and laughter of children from the pool. You aren’t going to find any friends here. That much is clear. Housewives and little kids, you don’t really fit the bill. 
You find your way to the far end of the lawn and stand by a tree you might just blend into. Or maybe you might bury yourself in the rose bushes. You pull your hands from your pockets and hook your fingers into your belt loops, swaying as you watch a bumble bee hover over the grass. 
“Foo Fighters, huh?” A low drawl brings your head up as a man approaches with a beer bottle in hand. 
“Um, yeah,” you look down at your shirt, tugging on the hem. 
“You go to a show?” He asks as he stops near you, drinking from the bottle as he waits for your answer. 
“Never been to one,” you cross your arms, “but I listen to them.” 
“Ah, yeah, well, they put on a hell of a show,” he wiggles the bottle as he talks, “lot more fun than these things.” 
You look up the yard towards the mingling of voices and sound. Despite your efforts to hide in a corner, you must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Shoot, maybe he thinks you’re trespassing. 
“I came with my sister,” you point and shift towards the party, “sorry, um, Rhiannon. I didn’t... I was just looking at the roses.” 
“Not my party,” he scoffs, “I don’t care.” 
“Oh,” you blink and look at him. He's about your height, dark curly hair, and vibrant blue eyes. His dark beard is thick and stubble prickles along his neck. He wears a plain white shirt and jeans; the bare minimum. “Right, er, well...” 
“Not a bad idea, hiding behind a tree,” he remarks, “but you're missing the key ingredient.” 
He stops and stares, crooking a brow as if you should know what he means. 
“Alcohol,” he raises his bottle, “they got a keg even. Probably the only good part about these bull—these things.” 
“I don’t drink,” you mutter, “but thanks.” 
You put your head down and stare at the grass around his shoes. You don’t know why he’s bothering you if it isn’t to make you leave. Obviously, you don’t belong. 
“Never too late to start,” he snorts and stays as he is. 
You don’t know how to make him leave you alone so you say nothing. The bee dips into a tulip’s mouth and you turn to watch it. Maybe he’ll take your silence as a hint. 
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harmonicakai · 2 days
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Was It Something I Said?
Part 5 of the "Anyone Else But You" series
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Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader
Summary: It gets harder and harder for you and Kai to pretend like there isn't something going on between the two of you.
Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni!!!!), reader is insecure, miscommunication, alcohol, injuries
A/N: ahhh this series is almost over!!! i'm gonna miss it so much, but there's still plenty to come :-)
FIC INSPIRED PLAYLIST <3
“Did I fuck it up again? Are we destined to be friends? I wanna give you more than that” —Be Around Me, Will Joseph Cook
Kai and the boys have been in Japan for two days now, but with the amount of times that he has you on the phone, it feels like he never even left. Even if he refuses to talk about what happened at the album party, things are going pretty well between you and him.
You’re about to head out the door when your phone rings. You don’t even need to check the caller ID.
“Y/N, you didn’t call! The show’s about to start and you didn’t call!” Kai’s voice rings out of your phone’s speaker. While you can tell he’s mostly joking, he’s also a little worked up.
“Kai, we just talked, like, two hours ago. You know I have that date tonight.” Oh, he knows.
“Yeah, but I like when you call right before I’m about to go on stage. You’re my good luck charm.”
“You’re just being superstitious.”
“I wish you could see me pouting right now.” His sad puppy dog visuals pop into your head.
“Ugh, fine,” you relent. “You’re going to do amazing, Hyuka. Fighting!”
“That’s my girl!” he laughs, immediately ready to give his all on the stage. “I miss you so much.” 
His affection catches you off guard and you go quiet. 
“Hello?” he asks. “Y/N, are you there?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m still here. Call me back so I can know how it went, okay?”
“You know I will,” he assures you. There’s obvious disappointment in his voice.
“Hueningie, it’s time to go!” you hear Taehyun call in the background.
“I have to go. Bye. Have fun on your date!”
“Bye,” you say. He ends the call and you feel an ache in your stomach. You miss him too, so why couldn’t you have just said it back?
When you finally get out the front doors of your building, Seongjin’s already waiting for you, flowers in hand. You note his outfit, something similar to what you have pinned on your “boyfriend manifestation” moodboard.
“Hey,” he says, holding the bouquet out to you. “These are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you smile, bringing them to your nose to sniff them. You love the smell of roses. “I don’t think anybody’s ever gotten me flowers before.”
“Well, there’s more where that came from.” Seongjin’s hand finds its way into yours. He’s bold and romantic, even dressing exactly how you’d like him to. He’s checking off all of your boxes, and yet something feels off.
As the two of you walk towards the city’s center, you actually have no clue what he’s planned for tonight until he stops outside of a restaurant that you’ve had on your bucket list for years now.
“You’re joking!” you say in disbelief. “You have to get a reservation months in advance to eat here, and even then it’s impossible.”
“I called in a few favors,” he grins, holding the door open for you. You blush, wondering what you’ve done to deserve even a fraction of the effort he’s gone through.
The dinner’s going okay. There’s just something about the way that Seongjin’s meticulously planned everything, even his responses to your small talk, that makes you suspicious. He feels too perfect, almost unreal.
You find yourself focusing more on the delicious food than on any of what he’s been saying.
“You know,” he starts, “I only went to that album party because I knew you’d be there.”
The hint of Seongjin speaking in a less rehearsed way grabs your attention. You look up to see him grinning.
“No, you didn’t,” you laugh, dismissing him. “You probably didn’t even know who I was before Yeonjun introduced us.”
“Of course I did. I’ve thought you were cute for a while now. The way you’re always running around with your arms full of clothes. I can’t wait to debut so you can dress me up.”
You can’t believe that anybody had even noticed you around the building, let alone taken a romantic interest. If only somebody else felt that way. 
“Well, does that mean you’re not a big fan of TXT?” you ask, sipping your wine. You’re mostly joking, but also curious what his honest opinion of the group is.
“I mean, obviously, I think my uncle makes great songs for them. But besides Yeonjun, I don’t think they’re the kind of guys I’d really hang out with, you know?”
Your face heats up at his answer and your energy shifts. “No, I don’t know. Care to explain?”
“The other guys just seem so dorky. Not to mention half of them were wasted at a work event. Like that Huening kid whose outburst interrupted our conversation. What was that about anyway?”
“It’s none of your business,” you scoff, setting your silverware down. “And he’s not a kid. He’s almost twenty-two.”
“Look, Y/N, I know you’re close with them. I didn’t mean to make you upset. We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”
“You’re right, we don’t,” you say, standing up and gathering your things. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you around, I guess.”
On your way home, you start to wonder if you’ve made a mistake blowing off someone so well connected, but the way he talked about your friends makes your blood boil. 
Then again, things had been going just fine before then. Maybe you should’ve just smiled and nodded like you usually do. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get asked on another date again, let alone one that was planned so well.
Suddenly, your phone rings and for some reason, you answer. “What do you want now, Kai?!” you snap into the speaker.
“Whoa,” an unexpected voice replies, dragging out the word. “Actually, it’s Yeonjun.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you groan, embarrassed at your attitude. “Hi, Jun.”
“So, I’m guessing your date didn’t go very well?”
“I think I’m going to get fired,” you huff, finally reaching your building again.
“That bad, huh? Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know. He’s handsome and thoughtful and everything I could ask for really, but there wasn’t any sort of spark. Plus he called everyone in the group except you dorky, and that’s when I just got up, thanked him, and left.”
“Everyone else is dorky, Y/N. You really couldn’t wait until the end of dinner because of that?” 
“Fine, it’s stupid when I say it out loud. But the damage is already done,” you sigh, digging through your purse for your keys.
“I’m sure he’d reconsider if you apologize,” he reasons with you. You’re not sure that you actually have anything to be sorry about.
“I shouldn’t have to! He was making fun of Kai!” That’s it, you realize. That’s the reason you’re so upset. Of course this is somehow about him.
“Ah, I see now,” Yeonjun says, dropping the issue. “Well, hopefully you won’t run into him at work much.”
“Hopefully,” you agree. “How was the show?”
“It was amazing,” he muses. “I really played off the crowd’s energy, and they loved my solo stage.”
“That’s awesome, Jun,” you smile back. Ever since you and Kai have grown closer, it’s felt like Yeonjun has taken a backseat. “Anything interesting happen?”
“Soobin tried to do the Water challenge,” he laughs. “We all ran to cover him up, though. Beomgyu played the guitar, and MOA kept mentioning how Taehyun looked like Ash Ketchum.”
“Maybe you guys need to do a Pokémon concept,” you think out loud. You don’t fail to notice that Yeonjun has conveniently left out Kai from his recap, as if he’s testing to see whether you’ll bring him up first.
“Would I get to be a fire type trainer?” Yeonjun asks. So, he really isn’t going to mention how Kai did tonight. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to ask about him.
“Yes, of course. I think Soobin would be water, Beomgyu grass, and Taehyun psychic. Actually, wait. Maybe Beomgyu would have fairy types.”
“And Kai?” Yeonjun finally relents. You breathe out in relief at the mention of him.
“He’d be electric,” you decide. “Or normal. Whichever ones are the cutest, really.”
“You wanna know how the concert went for him, don’t you?” he asks.
“No, it’s okay, Jun,” you brush him off. “We can talk about whatever you want.”
“Y/N. It’s cool. I’ve just been messing with you.” You can practically hear him smirking through the phone.
“Oh,” you twiddle your thumbs. “Well, yes, then tell me how he did.”
Yeonjun sucks in a breath. “First off, I don’t want you to get worried.”
“Okay? Why would I be worried?”
Yeonjun hesitates before answering you. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Your stomach drops.
“What?! Is that what you were hiding from me?”
“I knew it would make you upset, Y/N. It’s not a big deal. It’s probably just a sprain, alright?”
“But he’s hurt,” you sigh. “Is that the reason you called me and not him?”
“Can’t I just want to hear my dear friend’s voice and ask how her date went?”
“Mhmm, sure.” You side eye him through the phone, plopping down onto your bed. You’re too tired to change out of your date clothes.
“Okay, fine,” he continues. “Kai did ask me to call you while the doctor checks him out. He knew it would probably be all over social media and didn’t want you to worry.”
“It’s probably my fault he injured himself,” you mutter, kicking off your shoes. “I hope it’s not too bad.”
“Y/N, he’s fine,” Yeonjun assures you. “And how could it possibly be your fault? We aren’t even in the same country right now. The stage was probably just wet because of the rain from earlier.”
“I think I made him upset right before you guys went on stage. He said he missed me and I didn’t say it back, but I think he wanted me to.”
“Hmm, I guess he did seem a little down now that you mention it.”
“Well, tell him I said sorry.” Knowing that he was noticeably off tonight because of you makes you feel horrible. If you had just said it back, he probably could’ve focused on the show better.
“I mean, if you want to wait and tell him yourself, he’ll probably be back any second now.”
“I don’t really feel like talking anymore. Night, Jun. I’ll see you later.” Before Yeonjun can say bye, you’ve already hung up. You’ve never been more confused over your emotions than tonight.
Throwing a pillow over your head, you scream into it. Your love life is in shambles and all you can think about is Huening Kai’s stupid, possibly-sprained ankle.
—————-
When Kai’s plane lands, you’re the first person he wants to see. Before he even left, he made sure that you had a key to the apartment, something Yeonjun was always too lazy to do.
You haven’t brought up the disaster of a date you went on while he was away, and to your relief, he hasn’t asked about it either. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care that it happened.
Getting him to agree to watch the new Mean Girls remake for your weekly movie night was much easier than you expected. You had even prepared a whole speech for why he should relent even though it was supposed to be his choice tonight.
“It’s a musical,” you reasoned. “You’ll like it!”
You were very, very wrong. The movie was horrible, but at least that meant that the two of you could hate-watch it together.
“Those lyrics…” he starts, rubbing his temples as the closing credits played.
“And the costumes!” They were not going to age well.
“That was really bad,” he laughs. “That’s the last time I’m letting you pick when it’s my turn.”
“I have a feeling I’ll still be able to charm you in the future,” you say, batting your eyelashes.
“That is so not fair.” He crosses his arms. “Why are you so cute?”
“It’s my superpower,” you say, grinning. A few months ago, you would’ve never said something like that, but Kai makes you feel so much better about yourself.
The way you’re looking at him makes him blush, and he glances away hoping you haven’t noticed. His gaze focuses on the clock on the wall.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s past two.” Kai says. Time always seems to disappear when you’re together. “Do you want me to walk you home?”
Thunder booms outside the window and you can hear raindrops hitting the roof.
“That might be a bad idea. I can just call a car,” you say, grabbing your phone. He stops you.
“Just stay here,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You can’t sleep on the couch,” you disagree. “Yeonjun will think we’re mad at each other.”
“Well, if we sleep in here together, he’ll probably start planning our wedding.”
“I guess we’re losers in this game, huh?” you say, immediately cringing at the pun. The two of you exchange glances before cracking up.
Kai always takes longer to stop laughing than you. “Okay, how about this. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says, still giddy.
“But it’s your bed! I can sleep on the floor.”
“I am not letting you sleep on the floor. You’re my guest.”
“This is stupid, Kai. Yeonjun doesn’t know the difference whether one of us sleeps on the floor or in the bed. We might as well just share.”
“But you snore, remember?”
“There’s actually no real evidence to that claim,” you refute.
“Well, it’s a twin sized bed. I might crush you.”
“I don’t need that much space. We can even sleep head to toe, if you want.”
“My feet stink. Your feet stink.” The effort he was going through to not share a bed with you was eating away at you. You’re sure he’s slept with his group mates plenty of times before, so what difference did it make?
“Oh my god! Fine, sleep on the floor.” You throw a pillow and one of his many plushies his way, turning on your side to face the wall. 
“Are you mad at me?” he asks from behind, his voice now quiet and careful. To be honest, you’re not quite sure whether you’re being serious or not.
You turn over to look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed, petting the plushie’s head.
“Kai,” you sit up. “Kai, look, I’m sorry. I’m not mad.”
“I feel like I’m always putting my foot in my mouth when I’m around you.”
“You’re not. I wouldn’t spend so much time with you if I didn’t want to.” You cup his cheek, running your thumb over one of his moles. “I promise.”
Yeonjun isn’t afraid to check you when you’re in the wrong, but Kai is too sweet to deal with any sort of confrontation. It’s something you’ve been having to adjust to lately.
“We can share the bed. I didn’t mean to make it seem like it was a bad thing,” he says. Sometimes you think he can read your mind.
“Okay,” you say, making room for him. He turns off the lamp and climbs in next to you, making sure to leave a big enough gap so he doesn’t touch you. Even in the dark, it’s obvious that he’s lying halfway off the mattress.
“You can come closer,” you say. God forbid he falls onto the floor in the middle of the night and it’s your fault for hogging all of the bed.
He moves inward, your faces so close that your noses are nearly touching. You could probably count his freckles from here.
Sure, every once in a while, you’ll lay your head on his shoulder or he’ll lay his in your lap, but this is much more intimate. Suddenly, your heartbeat feels too fast to fall asleep anymore.
“Y/N,” Kai whispers, although he already has your full attention. You like the way he says your name. His fingers grip your waist under the sheets, bringing you even closer. 
You tremble under his touch, his eyes locked on yours. This is a dangerous game.
In seconds, his mouth is pressed against yours, desperate and hungry. You’ve been kissed by boys before, but never like this. You can’t get enough of him.
You run your fingers through his hair, still soft even after several sessions of bleach. Like that night in the cab, you feel him hard against you, except now it’s intentional. It feels good.
Kai climbs on top of you, finding his way between your legs without breaking the kiss. You wonder how often he’s done this.
“We shouldn’t,” you breathe as he presses kisses along your collarbone, although it’s lost between your heavy sighs.
His hand grazes the waistband of your shorts. Visions of him doing the same with other girls—specifically the one from that morning—pop into your head. Panicking, you pull away from his kiss, using all of your strength to push him off of you.
“Y/N?” he asks, his lips puffy and his brows knitted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go,” you say, tugging down the hemline of your t-shirt, which had ridden up during the exchange. You hop off the bed and attempt to find your sneakers in the dark.
“Please don’t go,” he pleads with you, grabbing onto your wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was stupid.”
You turn back to him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It was stupid?”
“No! That’s not what I meant. I just—I don’t want to do anything that could ruin our friendship. You mean too much to me, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kissed you, no matter how much I wanted to and no matter how good it felt.”
“It felt good?” you say, stepping towards him. It’s a relief to know he at least enjoyed it as much as you did.
“Really good,” Kai admits. “But it shouldn’t have happened. I can’t risk losing you.”
“Right.” It’s a really good point. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
“So… no kissing.”
“No kissing,” you agree.
“Anything else off the table?” He asks this in a way that you can’t tell if he’s flirting with you or not. You decide to take the risk and step closer to him. 
“I think cuddling is fair game. It would be too great a loss to our friendship.” You hold his hand.
“Mhmm, definitely.” He helps you climb back onto the bed before following suit, pressing his chest to your back, enveloping you in his warmth.
“You know, if I had you around in the wintertime, I’d save a lot on my heating bill,” you point out. 
“Go to sleep, silly,” Kai laughs, nuzzling his head into the nook above your shoulder. 
“Fine. Goodnight,” you yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, although you’re already sound asleep, your soft snores filling the room.
—————-
When you wake up, Kai is gone. He’s left a note on the bedside table that reads: Went to get breakfast. Be back soon :-)
You stumble into the living room, rubbing your eyes as sunlight streams through the balcony doors. Yeonjun sits at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and watching footage from the group’s latest dance rehearsal.
“Be honest, did you and Huening fuck last night?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Come on, Y/N. I heard some suspicious shit when I went to the kitchen to grab water and unless he’s doing some magical switcharoo, you’ve been the only girl around for the last few months.”
“Is this some weird cross examination? Are you going to compare my story to his?” You try not to smile at the notion that Kai has stopped seeing other girls, but it makes you giddy.
“I wish. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Yeonjun huffs.
“Well, if you must know, we made out for a few minutes. I panicked. He panicked. We both agreed to never do it again. End of story.”
“That’s no fun.”
“It’s not, but it prevents us from doing something we might regret and breaking up the entire friend group.”
“Do you like him like that?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
“It kind of does, Y/N. I’m pretty sure that boy is head over heels in love with you.”
The thought of Huening Kai being in love with you stops you dead in your tracks. Your Kai, secretly pining for your affection? You decide that it’s nothing more than a fantasy.
“That’s impossible,” you shrug. “It was just a moment of weakness between two friends. Nothing more, okay?”
Before you can discuss this any further, Kai is walking through the front door, coffee and pastries in hand.
“Y/N, you’re awake! I was scared I’d have to get you out of bed myself. Yeonjun was warning me how grumpy you are in the mornings.”
“She’s a monster,” Yeonjun says. You flick him on the side of the head. “Ouchie.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he giggles, unpacking enough doughnuts to feed an army. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, Y/N, so I just tried to pick ones I thought you’d like.” 
“I love honeydew, so you picked well,” you say, taking a bite of one with bright green filling. “Mmm! Where’d you get these?”
“Old Ferry Donut. It’s across town, but totally worth the trip. I go with my sisters all the time. You should come with us next time.”
“Ooh, introducing Y/N to the family. It’s getting serious,” Yeonjun teases. Kai shoots him a dirty look. He takes the hint, grabbing a couple of doughnuts on the way back to his bedroom.
“He can be such a dick sometimes,” Kai sighs.
“Yes, but he’s our dick,” you insist, trying not to let him ruin the moment.
“I suppose that’s true,” he laughs. It always makes you feel good about yourself whenever you manage to cheer him up. Usually, that’s his job with you. “I’d really like for Lea and Hiyyih to meet you, though. I think you’d all get along super well.”
“Then let’s set something up. I’m free all day,” you say, your mouth full of food.
“Really, Y/N?” Kai asks. You nod in agreement and his eyes light up at your enthusiasm. “This is awesome! I’ll text them right now!”
Maybe, just maybe, he really is in love with you.
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28  @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie @philijack @lixpixstix @reiheis
P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don’t want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to keep things separate <3
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tizniz · 2 days
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Inspiration Saturday ✨
Tagged for this day by @hippolotamus & @cal-daisies-and-briars And tagged by so many lovely people over the week :)
I'm back!!! Despite being sick for most of my trip, I had an amazing time. I did absolutely no writing or thinking about anything except being in the moment and enjoying myself. Okay, there were a few things I shared with Al, Hippo, and Caroline that screamed Buddie but they didnt' expand into anything. I simply lived in the moment. I am so ready to dive back into writing. Well, after I sleep a little more (still sick. I have spent majority of the last 24 hours asleep). But I did want to share this little moment that popped into my head before the trip and once again on the flight home.
Enjoy a moodboard of Buddie at Disneyland and a little something something under the cut ;)
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Eddie lifts his eyes from where he'd been swiping his thumb along the screen, checking the wait times, "Want to do Indiana again or—Buck?” He looks around, only spotting strangers. Pocketing his phone, Eddie forces himself to not panic, because it’s not that busy today, and Buck couldn’t have gone that far, right?
And just before he can start to actually panic, Eddie spots his missing best friend. He’s standing there with a bag of cotton candy in his hand and grinning over at Eddie.
“I thought I told you to not wander off.” Eddie half snaps as comes to a stop in front of Buck, having dodged a mom on a mission with her stroller plowing through the people walking casually.
“I went like…three feet.” Buck says, pulling away some of the spun sugar to pop into his mouth. A few strands catch on his lips, and Eddie definitely doesn’t watch as Buck’s tongue darts out to lick at them, dissolving the sugar quickly. “I wanted cotton candy.”
Eddie snaps his eyes up, “How did you even get through that line so quick?”
Shrugging, Buck pops more cotton candy in his mouth, “I got lucky. No one was there.”
“And you didn’t think to go ‘hey Eddie, I’ll be right back’?”
“You found me.”
“You’re a little shit.”
“You love me.”
“Why did I agree to come here again?”
“Because it’s fun.” Buck grins, “Come on, you’re loving this. Admit it.”
Eddie had been skeptical at first, because a day at Disneyland with just Buck? They’re adults. It seemed weird. But Buck had told him how many adults go on their own, and how fun it would be, and wouldn't the little boy in Eddie love this?
So that’s how Eddie had found himself spending the day with his best friend. Admittedly, having a great time.
Avoiding answering, Eddie looks at the bag in Buck’s hand, shaking his head, “You opened that like an animal.”
Buck also looks down at the bag, where he’d obviously torn into it and completely avoided the simple knot that would need to be untied to get access to the sweet treat. He looks back up at Eddie, “I wanted cotton candy.”
“You said that.” Eddie snorts, reaching for some, only to have the bag pulled away. “Hey!”
“Get your own.”
“I only want a little.”
“You just got mad at me for getting it!”
“I was mad at you for disappearing on me.” Eddie fires back, grabbing hold of Buck’s wrist, the spun sugary treat held between Buck’s thumb and index finger. “I’m not mad about the cotton candy.”
“You can’t have it. It’s mine.” Buck retorts, trying to pull his wrist away, but Eddie keeps his grip firm. And then, because apparently he’s not thinking rationally today, Eddie ducks his head down and is eating the cotton candy that is between Buck’s fingers. His teeth graze the pad of Buck’s thumb, tongue licking the last bit of sugar from Buck’s index finger, and then Eddie’s straightening up, staring into Buck’s wide blue eyes.
Eddie’s mind reboots and he stares back, heart hammering in his chest. The sugar is dissolving on his tongue and tastes so sweet, but he swears he can taste Buck’s skin amongst it all.
“Uh—”
“Pirates!” Eddie blurts out, releasing Buck’s wrist and spinning on his heel, marching through the crowd, cheeks burning.
What the fuck did he just do?
Tagging for sharing since it's so late on Saturday!
@actualalligator, @actuallyitsellie, @perfectlysunny02, @bidisasterevankinard, @spotsandsocks, @fortheloveofbuddie, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @theotherbuckley, @daffi-990, @exhuastedpigeon, @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming, @monsterrae1, @epicbuddieficrecs, @elvensorceress, @eddiebuckley-diaz, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @wildlife4life, @devirnis, @loveyouanyway, @smilingbuckley, @watchyourbuck, @loserdiaz, @excuseme-greentea, @wikiangela, @dangerpronebuddie, @kitteneddiediaz, @underwaterninja13, @bigfootsmom🩵
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linkito · 2 days
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Kiss Prompt Scarian 30 …as comfort? :3 -🎀
ange asked for this as well, so it’s gotta be hhau, right? ft. some unused dialogue from our Big RP™
Scar hates seeing Grian like this— curled up and miserable, wings tucked so tightly against his back that they may as well be invisible. His hands fidget with the ribbon tied around one of his wrists, body mostly hidden under the length of his cloak. He’s pressed up into the wall in a way that can’t be comfortable and Scar just can’t take it anymore.
He needs to do something.
“Grian,” Scar tries, and though his ears droop slightly when Grian barely twitches in response, he still continues. “Did I ever tell you about my idea for a cookie shop?”
Grian does perk up slightly at that, but it’s mostly to cock an eyebrow in confusion, wondering why Scar would possibly think to bring up such a thing now of all times.
They hardly ever talk about Hermitcraft. And for good reason— it usually results in nothing but pain.
But something about Scar making cookies brings warmth to Grian’s frigid, aching heart, and despite his better judgement, he mumbles, “…cookie shop?”
Scar smiles, feeling successful already and deciding to ride that high. “Yeah, and I was going to bake them myself! None of that villager crap.”
Grian doesn’t reply directly, but he nods, eyes now regarding Scar with renewed interest, glad to tether his attention onto something that isn’t his own self-loathing and despair.
Scar is happy to take what he can get. He also scoots in closer to Grian, craving the closeness, just wanting to be within his orbit. It takes a moment, but Grian returns the casual affection by idly running his fingers over Scar’s knee, which is more than enough to keep Scar going on with his daydreamy nonsense.
“I was gonna grow out my hair and have this whole elven theme going— live in a tree, work right out of my house.” Scar runs a hand through his messy hair, noting that it’s already begun to grow out quite a lot, even if it looks nothing like how he would have intended. He probably looks more like some sort of goblin than a lustrous-haired elf.
Grian chuckles softly, pulling Scar out of his thoughts. “What, like a Keebler Elf?”
“What’s a Keebler Elf?” Scar asks, entirely genuine.
That gets Grian to laugh fully, and even if Scar doesn’t understand why, it makes his heart about melt. He loves Grian’s laugh. He doesn’t get to hear it enough these days.
“You know,” Scar adds, feeling cheeky now that he’s already earned this small victory. “I had a particular cookie in mind that I bet you would have loved.”
“Tell me,” Grian says, eager for more of this delightful distraction.
Now that he’s got him, Scar begins a long-winded explanation, theatrical and exuberant: “Well, I make a delicious chocolate chip cookie, of course, but you can’t have those—“
“I’m not allergic to chocolate, Scar.”
“You’re not??” Scar gasps, earning a small eye roll from Grian (he’s still smiling though, so still a win). “Well no matter! Because I had an amayzin’ idea for incorporating chorus fruit into the icing for sugar cookie.”
“Chorus fruit, really?” Grian replies quietly, now weirdly finding himself craving the odd, purple fruit that he likely would have never eaten otherwise. He feels the edge of doomed nostalgia begin to creep in, but only for a moment because Scar keeps talking, snagging his attention back to this fantasy of a quaint little cookie shop.
“Yeah! A treat and a surprise!” Scar exclaims proudly. “One little bite and zzzzzooooop!”
Grian laughs again, weaker, but still amused by Scar’s antics. He wants to let the daydream linger, to picture bright purple frosting and a fantastical treehouse without feeling a sense of great loss of what could have and should have been. He struggles, but Scar’s smile keeps him grounded, leaves him leaning in, gravitated toward that unbridled joy he somehow manages to hold onto.
But maybe his sorrow still shows through, because Scar leans in closer, presenting that smile so it fills all of his vision. “You know what I was going to call them?”
Grian blinks, barely able to process anything other than the closeness of Scar’s smiling face. He manages a small shake of his head, eyes still anchored on Scar’s bright green ones.
Scar’s smile widens, seeming incredibly pleased with himself and whatever this answer may be.
“Elven kisses,” he coos, closing the distance and pressing their lips together, softly, like a feather brushing over skin.
The name hardly makes sense, if Grian is being honest, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. Something about the prospect of a simpler time, where Grian is surrounded by the fresh smell of cookies and a beautifully woven treehouse and the image of Scar presenting him with that name just as proudly, a shy little blush scattered across his cheeks.
He should have kissed Scar a long, long time ago, he thinks, somewhat sadly.
But Scar’s lips are on his now, and it’s possibly one of the only good things left in this wretched nightmare of a server— an uncomplicated affection, something genuine and pure. Something gentle and loving when everything else is coarse and cruel.
Grian moves, grabbing both sides of Scar’s head with desperate, yearning hands, and kisses him fully, hungry for the comfort of Scar’s breath against his own, lips intertwined, passionate and unwavering.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
He feels Scar’s mouth curl upwards into a joyous smile, pressed into his own, private— theirs alone to enjoy— and for a moment, everything feels like it might be alright.
For a moment there’s sweetness dancing across his tongue, and Grian willingly falls into the illusion of its simplicity.
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wrathofrats · 2 days
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Day 11- long distance- Swiss and aether
Thanks to @forlorn-crows as always 🫶
Tensions rise on tour, Swiss calls aether to try and make it better.
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“Hello?”
Aether answered the phone in a groggy tone. Swiss cringed at the sleepiness in his voice, rough as if he had just woken up. The time difference tended to escape him whenever he missed aether and sunny and picked up the phone to contact them, but neither minded. They were always happy to hear his voice.
“Aether? Did I wake you?” Swiss practically whispered. It was an unconscious attempt to not overwhelm him if he had actually woken him up, hoping the gentle tone could coax him out of being tired.
“Don’t worry about it, what’s up?”
Aether could hear the anxiety in Swiss’ voice. He could picture him picking at his nails and fiddling with whatever blanket was on his lap. He had always been a nervous fidgeter, one of his main tells that something was wrong.
“Well nothings wrong per say- it’s not an emergency but-“
“Swiss, tell me” aether cut him off
“How do you do it? How do you make every situation better?” There was a solemn air to the question. Aether knew Swiss well. Aether knew that something had happened and Swiss wasn’t handling it well. The pack could tend to be a lot sometimes, they all loved each other but conflict could sometimes be hard to tackle. Rain tended to retreat instead of handling issues, dew tended to blow up without thinking before he acted, cumulus got overwhelmed easily, and cirrus usually shut down, equipped with sharp sour words to ward off others.
It was always aether and mountain who would have to handle things if they got out of hand, a calming presence to drag everyone back and figure out a solution. Swiss could do this, but as much as he seemed like a more forceful figure, he was a people pleaser at heart. A pushover in the worst cases.
“Did something happen?”
Aether assumed there would be mild problems now that he and Sunny had been replaced with phantom and Aurora. Both were sweet ghouls, a little rowdy, but knew what they were doing. There hadn’t been any changes in a long time, not since ifrit and zephyr retired.
Dew had always taken it the hardest, the transition and ifrit stepping down made dew practically shut down inside. Quiet and harsh with his words for the first leg of that tour. He had processed and gotten better after a while, especially with aethers help.
But now that aether wasn’t there, there was question on how he would handle having phantom around in replace of him.
“Not exactly, it’s just been …… tense, to say the least” Swiss sighed, “nothing feels right. No one seems like themselves.”
“It’ll get better, everyone just needs time”
“No, I know, but I feel like I should be able to do something. If you were here you probably would have by now.”
Aether sighs, an ache in his heart for how hopeless Swiss sounds. There’s no solution, there’s always some kind of tension on tour. Living in a bus with even those you love the most will create problems after a while.
“It’s not your fault stardust”
“Well no, but mountain can usually have everyone happy again with a bit of time, but it shouldn’t be solely his responsibility”
“The fact that you care so much is all you need to do, you can only be you, you can’t be me. And we love you for you only”
“I know, I just-“
“I’m proud of you. You’re doing fantastic. They don’t need another aether, they need you right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you know how often I miss you guys and I look at your smile in photos and it makes me feel better?”
“You do?”
“You’re doing the best you can. You’re our stardust, remember? It’ll be ok”
“I love you aeth”
“Love you swiss”
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cerise-on-top · 2 days
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Unfortunately, Tumblr glitched out again and I didn't receive your second ask either! However, I got the notification per e-mail, which is why I took a screenshot of it, hope that's alright! @houseoftitans
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Price, Ghost and König with a Mercenary!Reader
Price: He understands why you’re doing this, it’s a pretty solid reason too. However, he will ask you, is it really the right thing to do? You could die at any point and your siblings would be left alone yet again. He won’t stop you, even if it’s plainly obvious you don’t really want to work that job, since money is important. Besides, it’s not like he can talk, he’s selling his own body to the military as well. But unlike you, he doesn’t have anyone waiting for him at home. You’re a competent mercenary, that much is true, but if you ever want to do something else, I’m sure he can find something for you. Hell, I know that he’d offer too. He knows plenty of positions that are a bit safer that also pay well. Maybe not as well as being a mercenary, but it’s money regardless. It would be a real shame to watch you waste away in a job you hate above all else. Once you’re close enough, he might offer to help you out financially, but it’s all up to you whether or not you accept his help. He really doesn’t mind, though.
Ghost: He understands what you’re going through, he would have done the same for his younger brother. But is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life? Or until the day you’re killed? While he won’t try to talk you out of it, it’s clearly your own business, he will hint at there being other options as well. He knows a few people who could get you in just about anywhere you want, there’s really no need to wear yourself down with this job you hate. However, if you ever were to need anything from him, regardless of whether it’s some money or just someone looking after your younger siblings for a bit, he’ll do it. He may seem rough around the edges, but he does have a soft spot for younger siblings, especially when they’re suffering. He’ll offer to find a solution together with you. After all, who would take care of your siblings once you’re gone? He doesn’t always have the time to do so either and just giving them to random people doesn’t seem like the ideal either. He’d much rather have you live above all else, and, of course, be happy while you’re at it.
König: At first it may seem like he doesn’t care at all. But that’s not particularly true, he just doesn’t know what to say. He wants to help you and be there for you, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries, so he may come off as uncaring at first. He has no idea at all what you’re going through with your siblings, he’s an only child himself and his parents are off well enough, so he doesn’t really have many worries, aside from the usual. But I don’t think he could even help you all that well, the military and being a mercenary is all he’s ever known. He doesn’t know very many people either since he mostly just keeps to himself, so it’s not like he could offer you a better job either. But if you ever need anything from him, he’ll do it. Doesn’t matter what it is. You need money? You need someone to take care of them? You need something else? Granted, it might seem a little bit awkward at first, but he’s being sincere when he says so. In fact, I could see him taking on a few extra jobs himself just so he could help you provide money. He’s good enough at his job, plus you seem like you could use a small break from it all.
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youcouldmakealife · 3 hours
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KS Fill: Gabe/Stephen; not on the list
For the prompt: I would say Gabe and Stephen’s wedding because I want that more than anything in the world, but I suspect that’s coming without my prompt? But if it’s not… 
It would come either way, probably, but this started the ball rolling.
More Gabe and Stephen, more lists. No actual wedding, but we get pretty damn adjacent.
Gabe knew the list would backfire the moment Stephen started making it. He even told Stephen as much, but Stephen just shrugged a shoulder and kept working on it. He got into it as it grew too, enjoying it so much that Gabe told himself he was probably worrying about nothing.
And maybe the list wouldn’t have been a problem if the only person he’d told about it was Gabe. Probably would have been fine even if knowledge of it extended to the Marksons and Petersens, which happened sooner rather than later.
But telling Gabe’s teammates — that was a mistake.
“A what list?” Jared asks when Stephen first mentions it.
“An anti-wedding list,” Stephen says.
Bryce sits up. “You guys aren’t getting married?”
From this angle, Gabe can’t see how withering the look Stephen gives Bryce is, but the kick Jared aims at his ankle is probably related.
“Obviously we’re getting married,” Stephen says, like he wasn’t panicking for a good few days after they got engaged, and only the potential wrath of Miriam Markson kept him from fleeing on the next flight out of Vancouver. “It’s a list of shit we don’t want at our wedding.”
“Um,” Bryce says.
“You know,” Stephen says. “The wedding traditions we’re vetoing.”
“We is such a strong word,” Gabe says.
“Unanimous approval or none at all, Gabriel,” Stephen says. "A veto only needs one."
He's right. And Gabe guesses he would know, consdiering he's the one vetoing everything.
“So wait, what exactly are you vetoing?” Jared says.
“Nobody’s wearing white,” Stephen says, starting to tick items off on his fingers. “I mean, white dress shirts are fine, obviously, but nobody’s a virgin here, we’re not doing any all in white shit. No flower girls or ring bearers. No little groom cake toppers. Fuck knows there aren’t going to be any garters involved. I don’t remember the rest off the top of my head, but I have it all written down."
“I like the little grooms,” Bryce says, sounding hurt. Gabe hasn’t seen any pictures from Bryce and Jared’s wedding, since it was very much on the down-low — and he truly wishes he could see how those two managed to put together a wedding on the sly when they couldn't even sit across from each other without Gabe figuring out they were married — but he bets there were little grooms on top of their cake. He also bets Bryce still has those little dudes hanging around somewhere.
“Can I see the list?” Jared asks. “I’m kind of curious how many our wedding had.”
“Sure,” Stephen says, with a hand wave. “I’ll email it to you when I’m finished. Have a few more items to add first.”
“Cool,” Jared says.
After Bryce and Jared leave, Gabe mentions it might not be a good idea to send Jared the list, but Stephen just scoffs.
“What’s he going to do?” Stephen says. “Wear white to my wedding? Put little grooms on his piece of cake? He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s not going to anything that actually fucks with the day, he’s not Dmitry.”
“Our wedding,” Gabe says.
“Oh come on, you already know what’s mine is yours,” Stephen says.
“You stabbed me with a chopstick over the last soup dumpling last night,” Gabe says.
“Stop saying I stabbed you,” Stephen says. “I didn’t even break the skin.”
“It hurt,” Gabe says, and Stephen takes his hand, planting an officious kiss on the back of it.
“Better?” Stephen asks.
“It was the other hand,” Gabe says, smiling when Stephen sighs dramatically before kissing it too.
“You’re really going to give Math that list?” Gabe says. “Blind trust isn’t usually your thing.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll lead to something hideous,” Stephen says. “But think of it this way: your idiot teammates are going to do something, so I may as well give them some parameters.”
“Huh,” Gabe says. “Good point.”
“I’m not exactly new to this, you know,” Stephen says.
“No, I know,” Gabe says.
At least whatever it is that’s coming, it won’t come out of the blue.
~
Gabe did not foresee this. Sure, when he gave Stevie and Dima and Bullet bachelor party planning rights he anticipated some variety of disaster, but he underestimated them, he thinks. Or overestimated them. There was some mis-estimation occurring.
He looks around. What initially looked like chaos seems oddly recognisable. Almost familiar.
It’s sort of wedding themed, which makes sense, considering the occasion, but everything’s slightly off, and not just because they’re in a venue more suited to clubbing than matrimony.
His eyes land on the big cake at the centre of everything. It looks more like the kind Gabe saw at Cup celebrations than a wedding one, decorated to look like a rink, with two little figures at centre ice. He’s too far to see the details, but he’s pretty sure they’re hockey figurines rather than grooms, and someone has decided to use the manipulable joints for, well, evil probably isn’t the right word, but maybe immaturity — Gabe’s pretty sure one of them is straddling the other. He guesses he should just be grateful no mounting is taking place, considering Dima’s probably the responsible party.
There are so many elements, and they don’t seem to fit together at all — elegant baskets of flowers that look almost painstakingly put together, surrounded by a scatter of rainbow confetti that feels like it's moonlighting from a completely different event. Some kind of crooner — Bublé? — playing, also from a completely different event. None of it seems to fit Gabe's picture of a bachelor party planned and attended by hockey players, even if the wives and girlfriends present also got involved in the planning.
It’s the guests themselves that help Gabe put it together. There was clearly a dress code, one that only Gabe and Stephen weren’t informed about, everyone all in white, neon bright under the black light. Like an item of a list come to life. Like one of many items of a list come to life.
He can see Stephen put it together a mere moment after he does, his eyes narrowing, mouth going flat. Playing at unimpressed for the — many — eyes currently on them, avidly waiting for a reaction.
“I’m going to fucking kill Jared,” Stephen says, and Gabe decides not to tell him just how proud he sounds.
“I wonder which one of the Canucks is wearing the garter,” Gabe says, and grins when Stephen forgets his audience and his composure for a moment, throwing his head back with a laugh.
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funnyjb · 3 days
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Don’t leave me
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………………………………….
Saturday night is my favorite night! You know why? Because I get to spend time with Joe. Joe and I have been together ever since Sophomore year. I met him when I was in eighth grade. I just recently moved to Athens and wasn’t really happy about moving. My first day of eighth grade I was so nervous. I walked into my advisory classroom and saw my fellow classmates chatting with their friend groups. The only person I saw sitting alone was Joe. Turns out he had none of his friends in that class, but he was the type of person to talk to anyone and make friends in a second, but Joe just sat alone looking at a SpongeBob comic book. Our teacher Mrs Wood welcomed me in to the class and told me to find a spot to sit so we could put on morning announcements in a few minutes. The only seat open was the one next to Joe. I walked over and sat in the seat. He didn’t even look up, he just looked over at his comic. After I put my bag on the floor and looked around the classroom I noticed Joe still hadn’t noticed someone was sitting next to him. I guess he was real deep into his comic. After a couple seconds I finally worked up the courage to say hi.
“Hi.”- you smiled
Joe looked up from his comic
“Oh, hi! Sorry I didn’t notice you there. I was deep into my comic! I’m Joe by the way,Joe burrow.”- joe smiled
“It’s ok! I’m y/n, y/n L/n!”- you smiled
“It’s nice to meet you y/n!”- joe
“It’s nice to meet you too! What are you reading that’s so good you couldn’t look up?”- you chuckle
“Oh, it’s a SpongeBob comic book! I knew it’s a little childish but don’t judge!”- joe
“Hey, I’m not judging”- you threw your hands up
“I think it’s kinda cool! I like SpongeBob too, but never really read the comics.”- you
“Really? You can look at it to if you want?”- joe
“You sure?”- you
“Yeah!”- joe
“Ok, thanks!”- you
Joe moved the book more towards me.
Ever since then we have been best friends, but we found out we both had feelings for each other the start of sophomore year we decided to start dating! It’s been amazing being joes girlfriend. He’s so lovely, loyal, funny, kind, and really cute! He just gets me and makes me laugh really hard! But ever since a couple weeks ago we have been having some little arguments, but today was the worst argument we have ever had.
“So did you?”- joe said
“Did I what, Joe?”- you said grabbing a glass of water
“Did you make a move on him?”- joe
“What? Are you crazy? No, he came on me, Joey.”- you
“Well it didn’t look like it.”- joe
“Joe, what is wrong with you? I would never do something like that. I’m so deeply in love with you it hurts and you think I would go hit on one of your friends?”- you raised your voice
“Well he was eyeing you all night and flirting with you. Then he try’s to make a move on you.”- joe raised his voice
“YEAH! And I shoved him off!”- you
I was furious that he even thought this. I know Joe has some trust issues but he really thinks I would do this to him. Never.
“I can’t believe you right now. I love you, Joe and only you. I would never go and make out with someone. I’m not a cheater Joe, it crazy that you think are thinking like that of me.”- you
I was so done with this conversation I decided to walk out. I hate having arguments. Especially if it’s with someone I love.
“Y/n, where are you going?”- joe yelled
“HOME!”- you
We decided to spend the night at joes because his parents weren’t in town for the weekend. We wanted to go to one of our friends parties then come back to his place.
“Y/n, come back!”- joe started running after you after you slammed the door and started walking
Thunder roared in the distance then just a second later it started to rain.
“Oh great.”- you said sarcastically
I stared fast walking as fast as I could in a dress and converse in the rain.
“STOP, Y/N!”- joe
He frappes my arm and pulled me towards him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking in the moment, ok? I got jealous that he was flirting with you then got furious when he tried to kiss you. I took it out on you and I’m sorry. I know you will never do something like that. I shouldn’t have doubted you or accused you of something like that. You are an amazing, beautiful, smart, funny, and insanely gorgeous girlfriend. I am truly sorry. It was a shitty thing to do and again, I’m sorry.”- joe
I pulled him in for a kiss. His bleached blond hair was wet. His clothes were soaked and he was out of breath from running and talking.
“It’s ok Joe. I know you have a hard time trusting people, but you shouldn’t have thought that I would do something like that, ever! Ok?”- you
“Yeah, I’m truly sorry.”- joe said almost on the verge of tears
“It’s ok, it’s ok, I forgive you.”- you gave him a reassuring smile
He then pulled me in for a kiss.
“I love you.”- joe
“I love you too.”- you
“Let’s go inside and dry up.”- joe
“Yeah.”- you laugh
He gives me one last kiss on the forehead and we walk back.
………………………………….
Request: @elly-grace 🩷🩷
Thx for the idea!!!
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jolieterestrial · 3 days
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THIS IS MAGIC w grace
Sorry for my prolonged ABSENCE - i will provide more soon!!! I’m not absolutely in love with this but it’s something… part 3 I’m guessing to whatever the past held. Thranduil x fem!reader Enjoy!
I live to serve, but I didn’t know what I was serving @katt-grek-kytalizia
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“Naneth!”
“What is it leggy?”
“What did you do to ada? He’s more sulky than usual…I think he isn’t obsessed with your gift… that much?!”
“Really…? And you thought I couldn’t tell” you answered clearly frustrated at yourself that you didn’t have your perfect gift already figured out. Thranduil made sure to make every Valentines special and so did you. You had even made a promise under your favorite willow tree to never stop the tradition and never become one of those people who exchange gifts just out of obligation. You hate yourself for becoming exactly that- your work had clearly out done you.
“I’m sorry my boy, i don’t know how to make this better, I already gave him the silly watch and watched his face go completely flat.” You sighed while removing your work attire.
“But I thought you knew exactly what ada wanted like on Christmas”
“This is different leggy. I’m not keeping up with adas hobbies anymore… what does he like these days. Besides you my leaf?!”
“ why don’t you ask the person i think he loves most…”
“What- he doesn’t love anyone more than you my boy”
“Yeah…tell feren that”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Legolas’ jealousy. “Ara da’isenatha, [my little dragon] Feren is one of his oldest companions, they’re like… you and tauriel or-“
“Like you and Lindir nana?”
“Not really, Lindir probably hates me” you cringe at the latest antics you and your right hand man Lindir pulled. “Thinking of Feren…can you summon him from your father, he could know just what I can do to undo my damage”
“Nana, the only thing salvaging you gifting an elf a watch is probably hiding until the next valentines?”
“Leggy, do as i asked”
“Whatever.”
You were inspired now. Whatever Thranduil had going on in his pretty head… you’d find out through his chief lieutenant…”sounds like a solid plan, your grace”
“Oh, Feren did i say that out loud?!”
“We haven’t talked since Galion last disappeared”
“Well that wasn’t that long ago”
“Yes, he keeps entertaining the thought of taking my place as chief…”
“That’s no threat to you now is it? We’ll all be long settled in valinor before he quits emptying the barrels” you humor yourself.
“Your grace, what makes you confident I can clear up the mess lindir was so-“
“Don’t start- this rivalry between you two needs so seize. Just answer my questions Feren… So, what does thran do in his free time these days?”
“Free time?” Feren turns into a laughing mess. “Your grace, Forgive me but there’s no free time for us as of late… although…”
“Great. What is it”
“Although, the king hasn’t stopped rambling to me about this pretender from your kin.”
“You mean an actor?”
“No my lady, I mean this man pretends to know the ways of our kin and of our dare i say…magic”
“Do you mean to tell me my husband is rambling to you about Houdini?” Confused as ever, you couldn’t wait to ask where he learned about the stunt man you also admired but didn’t really care for beyond the general understanding.
“Yes that’s the title! Well, your grace, what have you in mind?”
You had so many questions but this meant…you could reenact one of the tricks. It wouldn’t be so hard. you had the solution to Redeem Lindir’s perfect gift…
“You’ll see.”
“ ‘you’ll see?!’ That’s what I get for betraying my friend.”
“You didn’t betray anyone Feren… in fact you made his day so. Much. Better.”
“No it is a betrayal on my part your grace, forget what i said… i was never summoned here.” Feren bolts off nervously to the gates. He wasn’t keen on your appearance in eryn gallen but over time he grew to like you- but as time passed he distanced himself- around the time when whispers came about on his secret fondness of the queen. You. But you never considered it a threat… (like the threat it was for queen catherine of aragon and lord stafford lol) everyone admires the consort?
“Lindir we have a solution”
Lindir unimpressed as ever, waited for your next order.
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podcastkevin · 3 days
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This was a doozy to write if I'm being honest. This actually has a mix of my writing and my sisters. I hope this was okay, my sister says it's okay but I'm a little nervous.
For @buffymore , I hope it's okay 😬 🤞🏽
Tags: Cheating, bullying, french cigarette slur, squirting, smut, S.R and N.R are assholes, they belittle and degrade reader, really harsh please read with caution, angst? lmk if I forgot anything.
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You barely make it out of the lecture hall when you're shoved to the ground. Use to it, you roll onto your back, propping yourself up on your elbows. “What are you belittling today?” “Same as usual.” Natasha kicks your shoulder, knocking you off your elbow before kicking you. You grunt when she kicks your side and wait to hear her heels to step back to get up and make a run for it to your boyfriend.
“What was that?” Steve asks as you greet him while kissing your cheek. “Nothing important. It's fine. Come on.” You readjust the strap of your backpack and taking Steve’s hand, not missing how Natasha had finally made her way down the stairs of the lecture hall building and smirked at Steve, a glint in her eye and Steve mimicks it and watches her walk away. You see it and it kinda ticks you off but you shrug it off, pulling Steve along to leave.
That was two days ago, now it's Wednesday, the middle of the week and honestly you were so bored. Walking into the gymnasium building, you make your way to your locker to change out of your clothes from track and field.
After changing, you go to take your backpack out of the locker when your being shoved into it and it closes behind you. “What the fuck?” “Hey there faggot.” Sighing, you rest your forehead on the locker wall across from you. “Why are you in the guys locker room, Nat?” She ignores you, kicking the door of your locker and making you flinch. “Saw you with your boy toy. Quite a cutie if I gotta be honest, maybe I’ll steal him from you and fuck him.” “He wouldn't do that to me.” “Sure. You’ll see.” You roll your eyes as you hear her heels click away out of the room, now realizing that you’re stuck for twenty minutes until the basketball team arrives.
As you wait for the team to arrive, you feel your phone buzz, your lucky that the upper shelf is only half of the locker as your able to reach up and grab it to answer it. “Hey Babe, what's up?” “Um, I won't be able to come get you.” “What- Steve, what do you have to do to not get me?” “I-I’m just not feeling well, okay? I’m sorry. Maybe one of your friends in your clubs can drive you home?” “Steve, everyone is already gone, I stayed longer than them to get help from-.” He cuts you off quickly. “Well, maybe another club can- Listen, I gotta go.” The line goes dead and you sigh. “What?” You say to nothing as you drop your hand and lean your forehead against the locker.
You lucky it was only a few minutes until the basketball team walked in, your friend Sam letting you out as he was your locker neighbor and having some time before his basketball practice he even gave you a quick ride home.
Dragging your feet up to your apartment, you let out a big huff as you drop your bag and kick off your shoes. When you open your eyes, you’re surprised to hear the bed creaking, smiling when you think Steve is maybe humping your pillows and you get excited cause you could honestly use a release.
Walking down the hall, you start to hear moans that don't sound your boyfriends. He must be watching porn you conclude and you walk closer to the door and open it. “What the fuck!!” You immediately shout as you see your boyfriend buried deep in Natasha’s pussy in a mating press, her legs folded up to her chest as she turns her head to you and smirks before letting out a moan.
Steve turns around but doesn't stop. “What the fuck do you think your doing?! How could you do this?!” “Are you really surprised?” “Who wouldn't?! I thought you fucking loved me and now i find out your fucking the bitch that has made my whole semester here a living hell?!” “Oh my god!”
Natasha shoves Steve away, the slick sound when his cock slips out makes you sick as Natasha approaches you, dragging your chair from your desk and shoving you into it before turning to Steve who tosses her hand cuffs and cuffs you to the arm of the chair. “Hey- What the fuck, let me go!!” You pull at the cuff even though you know it'll be caught by the arm rest. You can't even turn away, your chair broke months ago from fucking to hard on it.
She returns back to Steve, crawling on her hands and knees, showing off her ass and wet pussy as she moves to face you, a smirk clear on her face as Steve positions himself behind her and enter her swiftly. You look towards the bedroom door, the sounds are torture itself. Slick, wet noises and Natasha clearly exaggerated moans.
“Fuck, She's so much tighter than you, Mn. So much better than you.” You look back over, only looking at their faces with a stern look but the tears and your reddened eyes give away your pain as your jaw clenches so tight your teeth may break. Natasha moves to her knees, a hand reaching back to hold herself up by Steve's neck, the male moaning into Natasha's neck.
A few more thrusts, Steve leans back, pulling Natasha with him as her legs are bent and spread and she cums on his cock when he hits her g-spot, squirting onto the sheets and on the floor near your feet. “Oh fuck, yes, shit. Come on, Mn, look at me.”
You've looked back to the door a while ago and you can hear her stand along with Steve. She grabs your face, turning you to her. “If you liked pussy I bet you couldn't please women.” “His dick is too small. Couldn't even please me.” Steve interjects and they both chuckle when you yank at the cuffs, getting a little pissed. “Aw pissy puppy.”
She slaps your cheek as she leans on the other chair arm, raising her leg as Steve stepped forward to do the splits sideways, Steve grips her thigh and enters her again.
She's split eagle sideways, leaning on the chair and you know they're doing it on purpose and you don't even have the energy to doing anything anymore other than grit your teeth and suffer cause that's what they want you to do. They're trying to make you feel like nothing and if you were honest, it was working.
Her moans were right next to your ear and every thrust Steve shoved into her pussy would shake the chair. “Come on, Mn, don't look so grumpy.” Steve smirks and Natasha reaches for your crouch but you flinch lifting your leg up to stop her. “Fuck off.” You snap, yanking on the cuffs again as you kick her leg, unfortunately for you, Steve caught her and she huffs. “Fucking fag, I could've fallen.” You roll your eyes and face the door again.
“Ah~ Ah fuck~ Steve your so fucking big, fuck.” You knew she was doing it on purpose and before you could blink Steve reaches down, making harsh shapes on her clit before she's squirting again, it getting everywhere including your pants and you flinch, trying and failing once again to yank at the cuffs.
“Just let me go okay!! I get it.” You yell when you watch them get into another position. “No. Not yet. You're gonna watch what you’ll never be able to do. You g-get to watch me satisfy her.” “Motherfuckers, you guys are assholes just let me go!!” “You're so pathetic and worthless. Can't even please someone enough they have to fake it and cheat on you.” “Fuck off, both of you, and let me go.”
They ignore you as Steve sits on the bed and Natasha sits on his lap, the other places his hands under her knees and pulls them up. "Watch him ruin me, looser." She's on full display for you as Steve pulls her knees up, She reaches down to insert his dick back inside her then both of her hand spread her lips wide, showing everything but you're staring at the door.
Between moans and groans they're belittling you, making you feel like nothing but you don't care anymore. “Don't cry you pathetic bitch. You did this to yourself.” “I didn't do jack shit.” “Exactly.” Steve says through a grunt. “You didn't do jack shit. Maybe if you were good at fucking I would've stayed. Your shrimp dick did nothing.” Natasha's hand moves to her clit, circling harshly before she's cumming and squirting again, the farthest so far as it reaches your shirt and her head is thrown back when she also feel Steve release into her pussy, thrusting deeply to shove it deep inside her to keep his cum in her.
When they settle, which was maybe about a few seconds, you watch as she smirks, walks over to your desk and picks up a photo she noticed when being fucked next to you. You don’t even struggle against your restraints as you watch her remove it from the frame, you've accepted awhile ago that there’s nothing you can do, you don’t even call out to Steve, your body limp and tired from struggling against your restraints and the only thing that shows how you feel is your eyes and the tears that still fall down your face.
Her hand reaches down to her entrance, shoving her fingers inside before pulling them out and starts finger her clit, Steve's cum drips onto the photo of you and Steve kissing, a New Years photo. Steve steps next to you and forces you to watch, grabbing your face roughly. “Watch her, fucking fag. Watch your counterpart ruin the photo.” He was calling you a pussy and you knew that. Natasha gasps and squeals at the sensitivity and her fingers pick up speed before she's cumming and squirting all over the photo, more of Steve’s cum drops onto the photo that's now soiled and soaked.
You begrudgingly watch as Steve walks over, taking the photo that Natasha picks up and licks it slowly, his eyes connected to your glare and he swipes some of his cum off of it and swipes it onto your cheek before ripping the photo, you flinch away before looking back over to them. “Uncuff me. Right the fuck now.” Steve grabs the key off the desk behind you, undoing the cuffs and you don't have time to rub at the raw skin as he grabs you and drags you out the room.
He opens the front door, throwing you out with your shoes and backpack. “We're done.” “Fucking bastard, this is my apartment!” “Get your shit later.” “How could you do this to me?” “You for real? I got with you to get to Natasha. I've been fucking her for six months.” “Prick. Let me guess, when I was in class she was the one to make that awful food.” “Yes, actually. We fucked over your food and she's been squirting onto them.” “Fucking disgusting.”
You finally stand up, slipping your shoes on and picking up your bag. “Good luck, shrimp dick.” “Fuck you. Fuck both of you. Good luck paying for this place.”
You walk off and make it to the exit of the apartment before you realize you have nowhere to go. Your feet end up taking you to your campus library where you enter and drop yourself into a chair at a table in the center.
“Uh, you okay? You look like someone thought you were the wicked witch of the west.” You completely forgot about the state those two jackasses left on you and you subconsciously adjust your hoodie. “I’m fine.” You look up to see your classmate James, or Bucky as you heard from other people in your class.
“Sorry for snapping at you. My jackass of an ex cheated on me with my bully.” “That sucks.” “It's whatever. Just kinda feeling like shit now.” “Need a distraction?” “It'd help.” “What kind?”
You look back up and your eyes meet his, a glint in his eyes and you release a breath you didn't know you were holding and your shoulders relax. “You have a place? Was kicked out of mine.” “I do.” You take a deep breath, just staring at him for a moment. You and Bucky were acquaintances but you still knew him enough. “Please.” You breath out and he smirks, closing his book and standing up with his bag. “Come on, cutie.” You smile slightly and follow behind him.
Might not be the best idea but you needed a distraction and Bucky was gladly offering you one. You won't pass it up.
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