#it's just been so long that i had a creating/editing routine and i was always happy w the result but lately i'm not :(

[wildlocks]

im having such an identity crisis about my editing lately

[luvergirl-535]

something like love

part - 7

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 10.7k

c/w - language, drinking/smoking, smut

a/n - took me five days but here’s your long chapter!! i really hope this lives up to your expectations! as always lmk how u feel and live react plsss!!! (also, this is completely unedited and i wrote parts while high. as usual. i will come back to edit later 🙂‍↕️)

There are a lot of things you can learn about somebody in ten years. There are the basics, of course: Their favorite color, and whether it changes every few weeks. Their middle name, and whether they like it. Their childhood stuffed animal, and whether they keep it hidden in a closet.

Then, as you go from knowing each other for one month to one year, and one year to five, you learn other things. You learn about their relationship with intimacy. You learn about why they occasionally stare into space for minutes on end, mind somewhere far away even though they make such an effort to stay close to you. You learn how to ask the right questions in order to crack their shell just enough that they open up to you without breaking.

Azzi knows Paige like she’s a fact—solid, unchallengeable, honest.

But this morning, she doesn’t understand a single thing about her. And that’s not for lack of trying.

After their perfect day turned weird yesterday, Azzi had woken up on high alert. She’s so used to Paige being an open book that it makes her endlessly uneasy when she does strange, mysterious things like creating an ocean between them while they’re sleeping in the same bed.

Naturally, being hopelessly in love with Paige has gotten Azzi used to watching her. Analyzing her. Prodding her and testing her reactions.

So when they first woke up, she watched: Paige, naturally, was still sleeping. She had subconsciously moved toward Azzi in her sleep, but not by much. Her lips were pink and slightly parted, cheeks flushed with sleep, back rising and falling softly. The bedroom window was open in an attempt to fight off the summer heat, and birds were singing outside, waking with the sun—which rose in gentle orange and pink hues, shining through the sheer curtains, painting Paige’s skin and hair pastel. In that moment, Azzi really couldn’t blame herself for falling in love with her.

After Paige woke up, while they methodically went about their morning routines, she analyzed: the first thing she noticed was the silence; unusual, unsettling, and oh-so loud. Paige was never a morning person but she was a chatterbox through and through—she’d always wake up talking Azzi’s ear off about nonsense, and she’d do it drowsily, but she’d do it nonetheless.

The second thing she noticed was the way Paige refused to look her in the eye. Not even once, not even for a second. There was no sleepy smile when she woke up to find Azzi next to her, no silly faces while the two of them got dressed, no lidded, sleepy eye contact through the mirror while they brushed their teeth side-by-side.

And the third thing: Paige wouldn’t touch her. Not to brush against the small of her back while she moved past her into the bathroom. Not to pull her hair back for her as she did her makeup. Not even to fix her blouse when she mistakenly buttoned it wrong.

Now, the two of them are in the kitchen, alone—Paige’s siblings are still sleeping and her parents are both back at work, which is a blessing, honestly.

It’s time for Azzi to prod.

“Paige,” she says casually, the first thing they’ve said to each other all morning, “can you make me some coffee?”

Paige looks up from where she’d been on her phone, expression almost surprised at having been addressed. She looks as if she’s about to point to herself and say, “Who, me?”

Instead, she glances suspiciously between the coffee machine and where Azzi leans against the counter not four feet away from it. Azzi almost dares her to challenge her, to say something snarky like ‘Why don’t you get your own damn coffee?’

Paige may be acting weird, but Paige is Paige. And things may be changing in ways neither of them wants it to change but she would still do anything for Azzi. So, without a word, she gets up from her barstool and heads to the Keurig, sauntering all cool and level-headed like she’s not acting odd as hell right now.

It’s a little disappointing that Paige still hasn’t spoke, but not surprising. Sometimes she needs some extra help.

“So…” Azzi trails, waiting for Paige’s eyebrow raise and ‘So, what?’ back. It doesn’t come. Paige stares intensely at the coffee machine.

“How’d you sleep?” Azzi finally asks.

Paige starts rifling through the cabinets for a mug while the coffee starts up. Azzi can barely hear it when she says, “Alright,” but it still counts because it’s something. Two whole syllables.

“Any dreams?”

Is she imagining it? Or does Paige stiffen up at that?

No, she’s definitely not imagining it. Because when Paige turns to finally look at her—for the first time this morning, mind you—her eyes are wide and—is that a flush creeping over her cheeks? “Why you askin’ about my dreams? Did I sleep talk or sum’?”

Puzzled, Azzi blinks at her best friend, wondering why idle small talk would get such a reaction out of her. “Um, no? Just asking.”

Paige narrows her eyes at her, but when Azzi just stares back, perplexed, she relaxes and turns away. “Oh. Aight.”

“Well, I had a dream,” Azzi says. “We were characters in South Park.”

On any normal day, this would’ve had Paige interested and on the edge of her seat like that. But today, Paige just hums, kneeling down to pull sugar and vanilla syrup from a drawer.

“And you sounded like Eric and I sounded like Stan.”

Paige straightens up, heading to the fridge. “They sound the same to me.”

Azzi glares holes into the back of her best friend’s head. “And we were playing basketball. But we were all short and stuff, so the ball was, like, as big as we were. I still got a ton of shots on you, obviously.”

Paige turns around with cream in her hand, Azzi flashes a dazzling smile, dimple and all. Paige barely even glances her way.

She’s not even going to argue with that? She’s not going to laugh at the sheer stupidity of that silly dream? She’s not going to fondly roll her eyes at Azzi’s grin?

Azzi’s starting to think something more sinister is going on here. Maybe alien abduction.

“P?” she asks, almost meekly, a last-ditch effort.

Paige merely hums, beginning to make Azzi’s coffee exactly the way she likes it, and that warms her a little bit.

“Hey,” she says, stepping closer, leaning against the counter beside Paige. “You good?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies. But her voice is…shaky. Not quite like herself.

Beginning to get a little concerned now—not just for the entire trajectory of their relationship but for her—Azzi lays a hand on her shoulder, gently so as not to spook her, almost like she’s a timid dog. “You sure?”

Azzi studies Paige’s face carefully. She’s gone pale, except for the blush on her cheeks, which is now brilliantly (and adorably) pink.

Paige nods, but Azzi doesn’t buy that one bit, and now she’s wondering whether this is really about yesterday like she’d originally thought. Maybe this whole time she’s been so self-centered to think it was about her. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with her at all.

The thought is so relieving it nearly makes her knees buckle.

Almost gleefully, Azzi reaches up to touch Paige’s forehead, and then her cheeks. “Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?”

“Azzi, I’m fine,” Paige insists, and she sounds so defensive that it has the opposite effect.

Sure of herself now, Azzi wraps her hands around the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her down so her best friend’s forehead is to her cheek—something Katie always did to her and her brothers when they were little. “I dunno, P. You feel kinda warm to me.”

“Shit,” Paige hisses, suddenly yanking herself from Azzi’s grasp, staring down at her hands. Azzi follows her gaze to find Paige has spilled a good amount of cream over the counter.

“Hey, it’s okay—“ Azzi begins, reaching for the roll of paper towels, but Paige holds up a hand to stop her.

“Azzi. For real. Just…listen, I need a sec, okay?” she’s still all wobbly, and her hands are shaking as she brings them up to rub at her jaw, eyes closed.

Surprised, Azzi rears back a few steps, putting distance between them. “P, what…?

“I’m fine,” Paige says, but it sounds like she’s on the verge of tears as she cups her own face with her palms and it goes against every instinct Azzi has but she begins to back away. Slowly, like she’s waiting for Paige to change her mind, for her to reach for Azzi and fall into her arms and tell her what the fuck is going on right now.

She doesn’t. And Azzi can only mutter, “I’ll be in the room,” before she’s out the kitchen, heading up the stairs and clutching at her stomach like she can somehow stop the anxiety boiling deep inside.

————————————————

An hour later, Paige is walking through the bedroom door with a jovial smile on her face.

Azzi startles when her best friend walks into the room, preparing to deal with this mood that seems to have overtaken her, and her jaw very nearly drops when she sees the expression on Paige’s face.

“Hey,” Paige says when she spots Azzi (who has been curled on the bed for the past hour, trying to stave off these new existential crises). “Watcha up to?”

Azzi doesn’t reply. She doesn’t even sit up. She just stares at this scarily bipolar form which has somehow taken the shape of her best friend.

“It’s too hot to be out today,” Paige goes on without waiting for an answer. She kneels down to rifle around in her suitcase. “So I was thinking the movies? Just me and you?”

And then she starts humming. Like, actually humming to herself.

Azzi has absolutely no idea how to approach this situation. She’s almost afraid to even move, as if Paige were a motion-activated bomb—because that’s kind of what it feels like right now.

“Yo,” Paige says at Azzi’s continued silence, standing up with a pair of shoes in hand. “You wanna go or not?”

Azzi wishes she could bask in it—the sudden normalcy, the way Paige is talking to her and looking her in the eye and no longer seeming on the brink of passing out. But it’s such a stark difference from this morning that all Azzi can do is wonder what happened in the past hour to cause such a severe change.

“Azzi,” Paige urges, and for some reason that’s what gets Azzi moving.

She sits up straight, staring Paige dead in the eye when she asks, “What is up with you?”

Paige doesn’t get defensive, and that tells her everything she needs to know. “Nothin’. Just wanna go watch a movie.”

Azzi doesn’t return her friend’s charming smile. “Don’t play, Paige.”

Paige has the audacity to look confused. “Huh?”

If she’s going to play dumb, that leaves Azzi no choice but to be direct. “I’m just wondering why you were acting bitchy to me all morning and now you’re walking in here, acting like nothing happened?”

“Oh, that,” Paige replies, but there’s nothing convincing about her clueless act. It’s obvious in the way she averts her eyes, crosses her arms. “I just didn’t feel good, like you said. But I took some medicine, so we’re up.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi replies.

“Yeah.”

“So, you didn’t feel good. That’s it.”

“Yep,” Paige replies cheerfully, kneeling down to start putting her shoes on.

“And that’s why you couldn’t touch me, or talk to me. Or even, like, look at me.”

Paige stares down at her feet, fiddling with the laces, tying them slowly to put off the inevitable moment she’ll have to stand back up again. “I dunno. Didn’t notice I was doing that.”

“Paige,” Azzi says, and Paige must sense that she’s really serious now because she looks up, watching her swing her legs over the edge of the bed. “Please, just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Paige replies simply, standing with one shoe untied to sit by Azzi on the bed.

Her detachment, her false answers and carelessness, are so frustrating it almost makes Azzi want to cry. “If you’re mad at me about—what I said yesterday, at the lake, then just tell me. I don’t want things to be weird between us just because we’re not talking—“

“Whoa, hey, slow down,” Paige says, and the hand she places on Azzi’s knee is so comforting she really could cry at this point. “I’m not mad at you. Did you think that this whole time?”

“Obviously.” Azzi widens her eyes at her emphatically. “What else was I supposed to think, when you were acting all weird towards me?”

Paige frowns at that, looking genuinely troubled at the notion of Azzi’s internal conflict. “I’m not mad at you, ma, for real. I just—“ she sighs, taking her hand off Azzi’s knee to run over her face. “I couldn’t really sleep last night, my mind was going like a hundred miles per minute for some reason.”

“About what?” Azzi asks.

There’s that same reaction from earlier—the stiffness and the blush. Like she’s embarrassed, or maybe even guilty?

Seriously, what is that about?

“Oh, nothing,” Paige replies airily, waving her off despite her mildly visceral reaction to the question. “Just a buncha stuff. And then, well…” she trails off, glancing at Azzi to see if she’ll be able to get away with it. She’s met with a stern glare that clearly says don’t you dare close up on me again, and sighs before continuing. “I’ll be real, I did have some dreams last night, once I finally fell asleep. And they were—they kept waking me up, but every time I fell back asleep they’d just come back again.”

“Like, scary dreams?” Azzi asks, brows furrowed. Paige has occasionally had nightmares while they were together, but they always have her jerking around or talking in her sleep so much that it wakes Azzi, who will wake her best friend and speak softly to her of good, happy things in order to lull her back to sleep. It’s never affected Paige so badly that she was a completely different person when she woke up.

Azzi watches Paige’s throat bob as she swallows thickly before saying, “Something like that.”

Azzi doesn’t reply. She doesn’t really know how to—doesn’t know where she stands right now, in this weird, unfamiliar territory they’ve stepped into.

Paige speaks for her, never good with lingering silences. “Hey, uh, a few of my cousins up here—they’re around our age, and they’re gonna be throwing this big party tomorrow. They invited us to go.”

Azzi hesitates. “They invited both of us?”

“They wanna meet you. Since you’re my…”

“Girlfriend,” Azzi finishes.

Paige nods slowly. “Right.”

“And you really wanna go? With me?” Azzi asks.

Paige scoots a little closer, lays her hand palm-up on Azzi’s leg. When Azzi takes it, instinctually, it’s like finding her footing again. “Don’t wanna go anywhere without you.”

One of these days, Azzi will learn her lesson. One of these days, she’ll straighten her spine and figure out how to tell Paige no, how to say what she really wants to say.

Today, though, is just like any other. That is to say, Azzi falls for pretty blue eyes and prettier words, and says what she knows Paige wants to hear: “Okay. Why not?”

Paige grins at her, and Azzi almost forgets this whole strange morning, their little argument yesterday, the kiss that preceded it.

Key word: Almost.

Because there’s this sinking feeling in her stomach that won’t quite let her forget.

————————————————

Getting ready for this party is turning out to be absolute hell.

“Azzi, just get ready at the hotel.”

“No, Paige.”

Paige sighs dramatically. While Azzi has spent the past thirty minutes stressing, carefully picking an outfit that will be cute, reasonable for the weather, and won’t wrinkle during the two-hour car ride to the next town over, Paige has been sitting peacefully on the bed, making unhelpful comments and showing Azzi TikToks every two minutes.

“At least do your makeup there. It’ll sweat off during the car ride.”

“I have a good setting spray.”

“Azziii, for real, I wanna get on the road,” Paige says, practically whining at this point.

Sighing, Azzi shakes her head, knowing she’s going to lose this argument no matter what. “Okay, fine. But still—my outfit.”

Paige, apparently deciding to be helpful, rolls off the bed and sits beside Azzi by her suitcase. “You got so many outfits to choose from.”

“None of them are working.”

“Just wear basketball shorts like me.”

Unfortunately, Azzi isn’t sure she’s masc enough to get away with basketball shorts, a sports bra, and an oversized button-up quite like Paige can. But Paige wouldn’t understand that.

“What about these jeans?” Azzi asks instead of answering Paige’s suggestion.

“Nah,” Paige says, “it’s s’posed to be hot tonight. Wear shorts.”

“Okay…” digging around, Azzi finds a little pair of shorts she isn’t really sure why she brought—she could never wear them around Paige’s family. With all the rips in the front, and the way it hugs her ass, it’s not exactly family-friendly. But for a party…

Spotting the way Azzi’s hand is lingering over the shorts, Paige grabs them up and holds them in front of her. She appraises them for a moment before putting them in Azzi’s lap. “These.”

“You think?” Azzi hesitates.

“Yup,” Paige replies simply. “Think they’re cute. And you won’t overheat.”

With some more help from Paige, Azzi finally ends up in an outfit that the two of them have deemed suitable for the occasion.

(“Are you sure it’s not too…slutty?” Azzi had asked, looking at herself in the mirror—Paige came up behind her and brushed her hands over her waist and said, “Nah, looks perfect on you,” and Azzi’s decision was made.)

Now, an hour later, only halfway through their mini road trip, Azzi highly regrets the tiny shorts and tinier top.

From the driver’s seat, Paige side-eyes her and smirks when she sees her wriggling around for the millionth time, trying to get comfortable. “You all good?”

“These are up my butt,” Azzi complains, pulling at the hem of her shorts.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Paige!” Azzi’s top begins to slip and she yanks it up, frustrated. “This is uncomfortable.”

“I told you to get ready at the hotel.”

Azzi should’ve been prepared for the I told you so, but it still makes her mad and she crosses her arms, staring out the window with what she’s sure is a mean pout.

Paige reaches over to tug on one of Azzi’s braids. “You sulking over there?”

“No,” Azzi replies, even though she very much is.

There’s a moment of silence, and Azzi is beginning to think Paige is done with the conversation before she says, “Why don’t you just take ‘em off?”

Azzi can’t help but laugh a little at that. “You wish.”

“I’m serious,” Paige replies, and with a quick glance at her side-profile Azzi realizes she’s telling the truth.

“You really want me to strip in your car?” Azzi teases, and before, this is something Paige would’ve laughed at before playfully flirting back. But now, Paige’s eyes widen and dart over to her, and Azzi is maybe not completely teasing.

“Chill,” Paige replies simply, voice betraying nothing even though the blush on her cheeks says otherwise. “Just don’t wanna hear you complaining for the rest of the drive.”

Of course, Azzi is not going to take off her shorts. Things between her and Paige are already weird and, not to mention, she’s wearing a thong. It would be crazy. It would be inappropriate.

But these shorts are really tight. And they still have an hour to go. And maybe Paige would give her The Look, the one Azzi hates and doesn’t understand but is also coming to associate with those charged moments between them, the moments where things shift and change and it seems as if any minute one of them is going to surge forward and—

Slowly, Azzi reaches across herself, and unbuckles her seatbelt.

Paige’s breath hitches. “What’re you doing?”

Azzi hums, and her fingers move to her own stomach, letting them trail down playfully to the button of her jeans, watching Paige’s eyes go from her to the road and back. “Just taking your advice.”

“Oh,” Paige says.

Azzi pulls the zipper down.

The two of them have seen each other in various states of undress countless times before—last year, Paige got so drunk that Azzi even had to help her out of her clothes completely and into the shower. But Paige was laughing and rambling and tripping everywhere and Azzi’s sole focus was on making sure she didn’t slip and crack her head on the shower tiles.

Azzi’s never given herself the opportunity to look the way she really wants to. And she’s been operating under the fact that she would never be looked at the way she wants to be, either.

But now, as she lifts her hips off the seat and wriggles out of these tight little shorts, Paige is looking. She’s looking so hard they might crash.

The shorts slide down her leg, dangle around one of her ankles. Azzi lifts her foot and delicately plucks it off. Tosses it into the backseat.

Paige’s hand twitches on the center console. Fingers splaying wide open like they need something to do.

Azzi has spent practically her whole life giving Paige whatever she wants, because that’s what you do when you’re in love with somebody, isn’t it? And so there’s really no thought to it when she takes Paige’s hand. Nothing tentative in the way she lifts their joint hands, pulls them into her lap. No hesitation when she presses Paige’s palm into her bare thigh.

Paige is staring firmly ahead now. The hand still on the wheel is fisted tight, knuckles bloodless. And when she mutters Azzi’s name, it’s quiet but unmistakable.

For the first time, knowing that Paige can see her in her peripheral vision, Azzi lets herself look. Lets herself study the flutter of her lashes, the slope of her nose, the pink of her lips. Her sharp jawline, her furrowed brows, her neck and collarbones. And then her eyes travel back up to Paige’s, admiring the blue shamelessly as she whispers, “You can touch me, Paige.”

Paige’s throat bobs. Her fingers twitch. And then, slowly but surely, they dance over Azzi’s skin. Azzi gasps softly when they brush the inside of her thigh, and that seems to encourage Paige because her hand travels higher, up to wear her shorts would’ve been covering, tips of her fingers getting so fucking close to where Azzi has wanted her for so long.

And then she stops. Straightens her shoulders and focuses more sternly on the road, but her hand stays firmly put before it squeezes just a little bit.

Azzi’s eyes flutter shut.

They may or may not spend the rest of the car ride just like that.

————————————————

Even before they step inside, Azzi can already tell how bumping this party is. Loud music blasts from behind the front door, and flashing LED lights shine through the curtains on the windows. For the first time, Azzi gets a little nervous—with parties, Paige usually finds some random people to branch off with while Azzi hangs out with whatever team members came with them. Now, with just the two of them, Azzi worries about being left in a corner with a red solo cup and a headache. The thought makes her turn to Paige.

Paige, mid-reach for the doorknob, pauses when she clocks Azzi’s anxious expression. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I just—“ Azzi sighs, then clutches onto Paige’s arm, glancing nervously toward the front door and the party that lurks within. “Don’t leave me tonight, okay?”

Paige smiles softly, and Azzi thinks briefly that friends don’t look at each other this way. “I won’t, ma. Promise.”

And Azzi believes her.

When they finally get inside, Azzj counts on them being able to slip in unnoticed, considering how many people must be crammed into this house. But, to her surprise, they’ve barely even shut the door behind them before the foyer—and the open living room beyond—absolutely erupts. People were laughing and talking and singing before, but now there’s straight-up screaming as young adults crowd around the two of them, whooping and hollering and saying things like “Lil Paigey in da house!”

Paige laughs, waving people off as she reunites with old friends, and the crowd seems to be trying to separate them but Paige wraps her arms firmly around Azzi’s waist and doesn’t let go.

After a minute, the crowd calms down, letting Paige’s cousins come up and give her hugs, the three girls squealing (Azzi doesn’t think she’s ever heard Paige squeal before) as they gush about how much they missed each other and how good they look and Azzi almost misses it when one of them says, “Oh my god, hi! Cousin-in-law!” before she’s the one being attacked with hugs.

“I’m so happy we finally get to meet you!” One of them—Avery, Azzi thinks—says quite loudly in her ear.

The other one—Lauren—squeezes her so hard she almost lifts her off the ground. “You’re so pretty! Look at her, holy shit, you’re so pretty!”

After the initial shock, Azzi can’t help but laugh, the excitement from these two girls nothing if not contagious.

After a few seconds, Paige pulls them off her, gathering her right back into her side once she’s free. “Chill on her, we just got here!”

Standing beside Paige, and in front of these two girls, all three of which have matching smiles, blue eyes, and blonde hair, it’s sort of like seeing triple.

“Sorry, we’re just—we’ve been so excited to meet you,” Avery says, cheeks flushed as she grins warmly at her.

Lauren nods in agreement. “P has been gatekeeping you, for real!”

Azzi grins quizzically up at Paige, who shakes her head, thumb rubbing over Azzi’s waist. “Nah, y’all have her social media. I just didn’t wanna share my pictures of her.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, slapping Paige’s stomach with the back of her hand before turning to her cousins. “It’s really good to meet y’all, too.”

The two girls beam at her before reaching for her, each of them taking a hand and tugging.

Paige holds fast to her waist. “Hey, where y’all tryna take her?”

“Relax, we need to give her a grand tour!” Avery says. Azzi wouldn’t mind leaving Paige’s side just as long as she’s with these two girls, but Paige seems to have other opinions about it, if the way she’s relentlessly holding onto her says anything.

“I can come with you,” Paige protests.

“No, P, how are we gonna tell her your embarrassing stories if you’re around?” Lauren jokes, dramatically rolling her eyes.

Paige holds on even tighter at this, and Azzi sort of feels like the rope in a game of tug o’ war. “No way!”

“Paigeee,” Avery whines.

“Yo, for real, gimme my girlfriend back.”

Azzi nudges Paige with her elbow. “I’m good, P.”

Paige looks down at her incredulously. “What happened to, ‘Paige, don’t leave me, I’m sooo nervous’?” Paige asks, all whiny and flirty as she mocks her.

Azzi frowns. “That’s not how I sound!”

Finally, in her moment of distraction, Avery and Lauren manage to wrench Azzi out of Paige’s iron grip. “We’ll take good care of her, Paigey,” Avery assures, slinging her arm around Azzi’s shoulder. “Don’t even worry.”

Paige glares at the two of them, arm outstretched like she’s hoping Azzi will fall right into her, and she can’t lie, she’s more than tempted to.

But she also wants to hear those embarrassing stories her cousins were talking about.

“Go make her a drink or something,” Lauren calls over her shoulder as they whisk her away. “We’ll bring her back soon!”

Azzi sends a sheepish smile and wave her way, giggling when Paige flips her off. Maybe this night will be fun, after all.

————————————————

The tour only lasts around fifteen minutes, but by the time they’re finished, Azzi is missing Paige desperately. She thinks they may be getting a little too attached, but then, haven’t they always been?

When she finally spots Paige, man-spreading on a couch holding two cups, the relief only lasts for a second because then she notices that she is sitting next to a very pretty girl. A very pretty girl with dark skin and dark hair and a gold, glinting nose ring and a laugh that tinkles all the way across the room, even over the raucous noise.

“Oh, boy, look who found Paige,” Lauren grumbles beside Azzi.

Azzi looks over at her. “Who is that?”

“That’s Amariah,” Avery replies. “She grew up in Paige’s neighborhood.”

Amariah. The name rings a bell somewhere far back in Azzi’s memory.

“She’s had a huge crush on Paige for, like, ever,” Lauren goes on.

“And then, when Paige came up during Spring break in junior year, there was this party and they hooked up,” Avery says, and that’s when it clicks.

Amariah, of course. Azzi remembers the call she’d gotten that night, the way Paige’s cheeks were bright red as she told Azzi the whole story of how she’d slept with some random girl at a party. More than anything, Azzi remembers the jealousy, hot and heavy, that had burned in her stomach, and she remembers the way she’d ended the call early only to get no sleep that night—thinking of Paige with another girl.

“Is that so,” Azzi replies.

“Uh-huh,” Avery says. “I’d go get my girl if I were you.”

That’s exactly what she does.

Smiling gratefully at the two girls, Azzi begins making her way through the crowd, marching to the other end of the living room. Paige doesn’t even notice her walking their way, apparently too engrossed in whatever amazing thing Amariah has to talk about. It’s only when she’s a couple feet away that Paige looks up and sees her, and the way she absolutely beams almost makes up for everything. Almost.

“Hey, Az,” Paige says when she gets close enough to hear. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” Azzi replies, unable to keep from smiling back at her best friend. “That my drink?”

“Uh-huh. Been waiting for you.” Paige hands Azzi’s drink to her, then pats her lap, and it takes Azzi a moment to realize that Paige wants her to sit there. Her body starts moving before her mind can catch up, sitting herself sideways on Paige’s lap, skin heating up when Paige’s arm finds its place around her waist. “My cousins bother you?”

Azzi shakes her head, wrapping an arm around Paige’s neck and looking down at her. Their faces are close, noses practically touching, and she can see every detail of Paige’s features, the makeup gracing her eyes and lips and cheeks. Azzi wants so badly to kiss her, and Paige looks like she might be leaning in…

A cough. Loud and intrusive, and it’s not even really a cough—it’s an “Ahem.”

Paige, apparently remembering herself, tears her eyes away from Azzi’s to look over at Amariah. “Oh, my bad, I forgot y’all have never met.”

“We haven’t,” Amariah says, not so much smiling as she is baring her teeth. “Who’s this, Paigey?”

“I’m Azzi,” she says before Paige can introduce her.

“You play at UConn, too, right?” Amariah asks, and Paige and Azzi both nod. “Didn’t know you were comin’ up with P this summer.”

It’s likely been at least a year since Paige saw this girl, and yet she’s calling her Paigey and P like they’re best friends. It makes her tug on Paige’s neck, pulling her head closer almost protectively.

“Couldn’t leave her,” Paige says, and this time, when Azzi looks down at her, Paige does kiss her. Just a peck on the lips, but it makes Azzi take two large swigs from what tastes like the straight vodka in her cup. “Right, baby?”

“Mm,” Azzi hums around the alcohol in her mouth.

“Cool,” Amariah says in a tone that implies she deems nothing about this cool. And even with Azzi so obviously laying her claim, and Paige so obviously all dopey for her, she still has the audacity to scoot a little closer, brushing her hand flirtatiously against Paige’s shoulder. “So, where were we? You were about to tell me that story, from school?”

“Oh, uh,” Paige gives Azzi one last long look before turning back to Amariah, “yeah. Yeah, sorry, lemme try to remember…”

She knows it’s silly, but Azzi is furious. At Amariah, for thinking she has even the slightest chance with Paige, and at Paige, for talking to this girl when she has Azzi literally in her lap.

Azzi finishes off the vodka in her cup, letting it burn her throat and warm her belly. And then, instead of asking Paige to set it on the side table for her, she shifts, swinging her leg over Paige’s and sitting up on her knees so that she’s straddling her, and she barely catches Paige’s shocked expression before she’s leaning over and setting her cup down.

“You finished with that, babe?” she asks Paige, and Paige nods wordlessly, handing Azzi her empty cup. When Azzi leans over again, she knows her tits are fully in Paige’s face.

With both their hands free, Azzi settles back down, sitting fully on Paige, arms around her shoulders. Paige smiles a little wide-eyed up at her, hands resting low on her hips. But then she turns right back to Amariah and continues her story.

What the hell?

Azzi watches Paige’s side profile as she speaks, looking at her just like she looked at her in the car earlier—and the thought of the car, the heat between Azzi’s legs and Paige’s fingers so close to her, possesses her to lean forward and press her lips to Paige’s cheek.

Paige doesn’t respond, doesn’t even falter in her story-telling, but her thumbs start rubbing circles on Azzi’s hips.

So, Azzi kisses her again. And then again higher on her cheekbone, then to the spot beside her ear, and now she’s sort of just trailing slow, sensual kisses across Paige’s jawline, completely unsure how she got here but not about to stop anytime soon.

Paige’s hands slide to the small of her back, clasping behind her like she’s holding her in place. Azzi moves Paige’s hair—which is down, and Azzi loves when Paige wears her hair down—out of the way before placing a tentative, soft kiss on her neck.

Finally, Paige falters. Just a little, probably not even noticeable to Amariah—who is glaring daggers into the side of Azzi’s head, where she’s buried in Paige’s neck.

Gaining confidence from the way Paige’s hands begin rubbing her back, Azzi trails a hot path down the column of her throat and back up, practically licking her way up to Paige’s earlobe before she sucks on it, letting out the quietest, breathiest moan into Paige’s ear.

Paige gasps, but she doesn’t stop telling her stupid fucking story.

Her hands, however, find their way to Azzi’s ass.

Pleased with herself, Azzi takes Paige’s button-up and pushes it off her left shoulder, giving her so much access. She’s on a roll now, and Paige’s hands on her ass feel so good, voice lulling so nicely in her ears even though it’s another girl she’s talking to.

It’s practically feverish, the way she latches onto Paige’s shoulder. Scrapes her teeth against it, bites it, and then sucks. Hard.

Paige stiffens, squeezes her ass.

Azzi doesn’t pull away for what must be an entire minute. And when she does, she opens her eyes, studies the bright-red mark like she’s an artist and this is the best piece of her life. She knows that’ll be purple by tomorrow, and she’s too tipsy to care.

She goes back in and soothes her tongue over the spot, tasting the salt and perfume on Paige’s skin—god, how long has she wanted to taste Paige, just like this? Since she was fourteen? And now she’s finally doing it, and maybe she should suck another hickey into her neck, just for good measure, just to show this bitch Amariah who Paige really belongs to—

“Az,” Paige says into her ear.

Azzi shoots up, and her voice is raspy when she says, “Yeah?”

It’s then that she takes note of how flushed Paige is, how her chest is heaving with each breath she takes. She looks so good like this. Azzi can’t help but lean forward, nuzzling their noses together.

“Hey,” Paige says softly, squeezing her ass which does horrible things to her mind, “why don’t you get us another drink, mama?”

Azzi pouts at her. She does not want to leave this lap.

“I know,” Paige says even though she didn’t even say anything. “I just…” she leans forward until her mouth is beside Azzi’s ear, “can’t hold it together like this. I need a sec, okay?”

And that knowledge—that she has an affect on Paige—turns her mood right around. “Okay, okay.” Reluctantly, she slides off Paige’s lap, straightening out her shorts. “I’ll be right back.” And, somewhat smugly, she looks at Amariah, who is practically fuming at this point. “You want anything?”

“Nah,” Amariah says through gritted teeth. “I’m all good.”

“‘Kay,” Azzi says happily.

She’s not sure, but she swears she hears Paige say, “Thanks, baby,” on her way out.

Fire spreads low in her belly.

————————————————

Later, they find themselves on the floor, all over each other while a couple other girls sit with them. They’re using the drinks they’ve had as an excuse to be practically in each other’s laps, flirting and giggling like nobody’s business—even if they’re kind of making it everybody else’s business with how many people have clocked them tonight.

“Can y’all stop mating for a couple seconds?” Avery asks good-naturedly, elbowing Azzi.

Reluctantly, the two of them pull away from each other, but Paige’s arm stays slung around Azzi’s hips.

“Okay, y’all know what I wanna do?” says one of the girls. There’s only a handful of them, all circled up and pressed together on the living room floor while people party around them. “I wanna play truth or drink.”

“Fun!” Lauren says. “We should do it.”

“Okay, Paige.” This is another girl—Paige introduced them earlier but Azzi doesn’t remember her name. “What’s your body count?”

Paige glances over at Azzi, then uses her free hand to take a drink from the bottle of Malibu they’ve been sharing.

“You keeping secrets from me?” Azzi teases, not nearly as bothered by this as she would be if she were sober.

Paige purses her lips, moving her head from side to side. “There mighta been a few girls I never told you about.”

Azzi gasps, even though she can’t really bring herself to care about other girls—not when Paige is all over her like this. “You gotta tell me later!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paige replies, cheeky little smile and all. Azzi wants so badly to kiss her.

“Love to see Paige isn’t in her hoe era anymore.” The last girl—Azzi actually remembers this one’s name, it’s Riley—laughs.

“It’s about time she wifed Azzi,” Lauren says. “With how damn much she talks about her.”

All the girls nod, and the one whose name Azzi can’t remember says, “Can we blame her, though? Look at her.”

And then they’re all turning to Azzi, cooing and giggling about how pretty she is and about how ‘if Paige didn’t lock you down I would’ve.’

Paige pulls Azzi into her side. “This one’s mine, y’all can get your own!”

Everybody laughs and the game continues. A couple rounds down, when everybody has gotten a chance to both spill secrets and drink a little bit, Azzi gets asked the most personal question thus far, from Avery: “Out of all the people you’ve slept with, who gave the best head?”

Everybody giggles and Azzi is tipsy and not in her right mind so, instead of making something up, she tells the truth, which is, “I’ve actually never gotten head before.”

Everybody stops laughing, looking at her like their jaws might hit the floor. And then Paige is staring at her wide-eyed and she remembers, they’re dating, and she knows enough to know that Paige is an eater, and if the two of them were actually together she’d probably be getting head, like, three times a day.

So she covers it up with a laugh, waving them all off. “I’m kidding. I think you all know the answer to that,” she says, wishing more than anything she were telling the truth.

Paige kisses her cheek. But as somebody else gets asked a question, she’s still got her brows furrowed in Azzi’s direction, and Azzi wonders what she’s thinking so hard about.

For some unknown reason, she can’t wait to get to the hotel tonight.

—————————————————

The two of them don’t actually leave the party until close to one in the morning. They get far too caught up in beer pong, in dancing—in each other.

When they finally get to the hotel, they’re drunk, but not wasted. Thanks to Avery for making them have a glass of water in between each drink.

Of course, Azzi would rather not be wasted. It’s no fun. She loves this light, swaying feeling that comes with being the right amount of drunk.

But with the way Paige has been looking at her all night, she needs to be more inebriated.

It’s only a couple minutes since they arrived at their hotel room and Paige seems to be thinking the same thing. After she takes off her shoes, she flops face-first onto the bed and says, “Wanna be more drunk right now.”

Azzi giggles, walking towards her best friend and sitting cross-legged next to her. “Me too.”

Paige lifts her head. “Think they have champagne in here or sum’?”

Azzi shakes her head.

Paige sits up and makes to get off the bed. “Nah, I’m sure they do—“

Azzi grabs Paige’s wrist. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, pulling Paige to sit beside her. “I just mean…we don’t need to drink more.”

Paige sighs dramatically. “Yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”

“No, silly.” Azzi giggles again. She is so in love with her, cluelessness and all. “I mean…” she reaches into her pocket. And then she pulls out the joint Lauren gifted her earlier. Pre-rolled and everything.

Paige’s eyes light up. “Did you…” she laughs, “steal that?”

“No!” Azzi replies, whacking Paige on the arm. “Nah, your cousin gave it to me. She’s so sweet, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige says, rolling off the bed and rummaging through her overnight bag.

Azzi lays back against the sheets. “Paigey?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing down there?”

“Nothin’, mama, just tryna find—yes!” Paige stands and Azzi leans up on her elbows to watch her get back into bed. She’s holding something square and bright purple in one hand as she crawls rather seductively toward Azzi. “Lighter,” she explains when she gets close.

Azzi smiles widely, excitement bubbling in her belly.

“Hold it up,” Paige instructs, and Azzi does, bringing the joint to her lips, making dangerous eye contact as Paige lights it.

Azzi feels herself relax even before the first puff hits her system. Paige stays close and the smoke blows right into her face, making both of them laugh. Paige stares at her for a moment before saying, “Lemme go open the windows.”

While she’s gone, Azzi takes another two drags, and Paige narrows her eyes as she hops back on the bed. “Aight, slow down. Puff, puff, pass.”

Azzi smiles slyly as she passes the joint, watching Paige smoke it. Paige leans back on her free hand and Azzi lets her eyes rove over her covered shoulders, her sports bra, her stomach.

“Eyes up here,” Paige says, handing it back.

Azzi makes a face, too inebriated to care that she’s been caught.

“You wanna see ‘em?” Paige asks.

Azzi coughs a little on the smoke, “See what?”

Paige raises her eyebrows, then begins undoing her button-up before pushing it off her shoulders. And there, on her left shoulder, are three red marks, already darkening after just a couple hours.

“Huh,” Azzi says, taking another drag, “coulda sworn I only left one.”

Paige snatches the joint back. “Quit hogging this shit!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Azzi would usually roll her eyes, but that would entail taking her gaze from the hickeys on Paige’s skin and she’s not willing to do that for even a second.

“They’re brutal, huh?” Paige asks after two puffs.

Azzi shrugs, leaning up a little more on her elbows when she realizes she’s sliding down. She takes the joint and it hovers near her lips as she says, “I’ve done worse.”

Something flares in Paige’s eyes at that. “To who?”

“Dunno.” When Paige raises her eyebrows, Azzi does it right back, handing the blunt over. “What? You’re not the only one who had a hoe era.”

“Didn’t hear too much about yours,” Paige mumbles, smoking and then giving it back, fumbling for her phone as Azzi takes a puff.

A moment later, R&B starts crooning through the room. “That’s because it’s private, P.”

“Mm-hmm.” The joint is short now as Paige takes it back. “Were you being for real? Earlier?”

Azzi closes her eyes, leaning her head back. “About what?”

“That you’ve never gotten head.”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I was being for real.”

“Hm.” Paige nudges Azzi, and she opens her eyes for another smoke. “Why not?”

“Dunno.”

“There’s no way nobody’s wanted to before.”

“Yeah, it’s not that.” Azzi’s eyes are hooded now as she looks into Paige’s red ones, hands uncoordinated as she hands the blunt back. “I just…I say no, when they offer.”

“Because you don’t want it?”

“Because it’s scary.”

Paige frowns at the joint, which only has a drag left in it now. “What’s scary about it?”

“It’s so…personal.” Azzi shrugs. “I’ve never trusted a stranger enough for that.”

Paige nods, still staring at the blunt. Azzi doesn’t think she’s listening anymore. “That thing almost gone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Paige looks at her, then back at the joint. “Here, lay back.”

Azzi grins. “Why?”

“Bro, trust.”

Azzi does. So she lays back, watching as Paige lazily crawls on top of her, straddling her legs.

Azzi’s hands move on their own accord, pressing into Paige’s stomach just to feel the muscle there.

With her free hand, Paige moves her hand to Azzi’s chin. “Open your mouth, mama.”

There’s smoke in the air, pressure between her legs. Azzi squirms to try to relieve it.

“Az,” Paige says, and Azzi’s eyes snap to her at the stern tone. “Open.”

Azzi obeys without hesitating, and she’s too groggy to be surprised when Paige puts her thumb in her mouth, humming a little.

She doesn’t even need to be told before she closes her mouth around it and sucks.

Paige sighs, blunt damn near about to go out as she rocks her hips up against Azzi’s crotch just slightly. “So good for me, hm?”

Azzi nods, trying her best to keep her eyes open as she laves her tongue around Paige’s thumb. They hold eye contact for another moment before Paige remembers the joint and takes the last pull.

Azzi feels a little betrayed, thinking this was just a trick to get the last smoke, but then Paige is leaning down, pulling her thumb out and using it instead to hold her mouth open, before pressing their lips together, shotgunning the smoke directly into Azzi’s lungs.

It’s the easiest drag Azzi’s ever taken.

Azzi is only sort of aware that Paige doesn’t pull away once Azzi inhales. She’s only sort of aware that Paige’s tongue is taking advantage of her open mouth, licking into her for the first time, letting Azzi’s teeth graze over it while they kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy.

Azzi’s heart races when Paige’s hands begin to wander, feeling them go from her throat to her shoulders to her tits, where they hover.

“You good?” Paige mumbles against her. Azzi nods.

Paige squeezes her tits, fisting them up and then brushing her thumbs against her nipples, hard underneath her thin shirt and bra.

“Love your tits,” Paige mumbles, pulling away to kiss down her neck, reminiscent of their moment at the party earlier.

“Yeah?” Azzi breathes.

“Yeah, fuck.” Paige’s breath is hot over Azzi’s neck and she tilts her head to the side, moving her braids out of the way.

“Can’t believe what you pulled tonight,” Paige says, leaning down to nip at Azzi’s shoulders.

“On the couch?” Azzi asks. She can’t help but grin thinking about it.

“You got me all worked up in front of everyone,” Paige’s hands move down to Azzi’s stomach, playing with her belly piercing while she sucks hard at the place she just bit.

“Mm,” Azzi says, closing her eyes and letting the memory, paired with the feeling of Paige’s hands and lips, overtake her. “Couldn’t help it. You were talkin’ to that girl.”

“Yeah, fuck—so needy when you’re jealous, huh?” Paige asks, kissing at Azzi’s cleavage. “That’s so hot.”

“You’re so hot,” Azzi breathes. Under normal circumstances, she’d never boost her best friend’s already huge ego like this. But this is the farthest thing from normal circumstances.

Paige smirks against her skin, the cocky bastard. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Shut up,” Azzi responds, gasping when Paige sucks a mark into the top of her breast.

“This outfit—so fuckin’ slutty,” she says, biting at the sensitive mark she just made.

“You picked it,” Azzi reminds Paige, holding onto her shoulders in an attempt to ground herself.

“I changed my mind. Don’t want anybody to look at you, ever fuckin’ again.”

Azzi laughs breathily at this. “Want me all to yourself?”

Paige lifts her head up to meet her lips again, her arms wrapping around Azzi’s back and arching her off the bed, pulling her close. “You know I do,” she says, pulling back from the kiss to look at Azzi with something like reverence. “All mine.”

Azzi isn’t. All hers, that is. Not really. Not even now. Not knowing that all of this is pretend.

But, maybe Azzi has been all her’s since the day they met. Maybe, years ago, a piece of her heart escaped her own chest and made a home happily in Paige’s, and maybe it will be there forever.

So she nods. “All yours, P.”

Paige smiles so, so big at her, and when they kiss again they’re both giggling, not even really kissing at this point.

“Wait, Paige,” Azzi laughs as Paige’s hand moves to her ass, “what’re we doing?”

“Kissing,” Paige replies.

“Duh, I knew that, genius,” Azzi says, flicking Paige’s forehead, which makes both of them dissolve into giggles again.

“But, seriously,” Azzi continues once she’s gathered herself. “You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine,” Paige says, nuzzling their noses together.

“Do you think it’s—like, okay? That we’re doing this?”

Paige licks her lips, pressing another kiss to Azzi’s. “We can say…we’re just practicing. We said we’d practice, remember?”

Azzi nods, remembering that conversation that feels so long ago now. “We did.”

“So, this is us practicing.” Paige kisses her again, “And it has nothing—“ another kiss, “to do with the fact that I love—“ yet another one, “kissing you.”

Azzi laughs, squirming away. “Paige!”

“Hmm,” Paige responds, eyes wandering down Azzi’s body.

“Hey,” Paige says after a moment, “do you trust me?”

Azzi brushes a strand of hair out of Paige’s face before cupping her cheek, smiling when Paige leans into her. “More than anyone.”

“So…” Paige smiles deviously, ducking down to press more kisses into the tops of Azzi’s breasts, “would you let me go down on you?”

Azzi laughs at the pure absurdity of the question. “P, don’t play like that.”

“I’m being so deadass,” Paige says, and when Azzi looks down, Paige is already looking at her. There’s no mirth in her tone, in her eyes.

Azzi’s stomach tumbles. “…Seriously?”

Paige nods.

“You…” Azzi furrows her brows, “want to?”

Paige leans up, kisses her tenderly on the lips. “You have no fucking idea.”

That is new information. New and insane and something she will work through tomorrow, when she’s sober.

Right now, all she can think of is the ache that’s been between her legs all night. And the way Paige could help her with it.

“Please,” Paige mutters against her lips, “wanna make you feel so good, baby.”

Azzi looks at her best friend. Her swollen lips, the hickies on her shoulder, her tousled hair.

And she says, “Okay.”

Paige’s eyes light up, and she wastes no time clarifying. Her hands go straight to Azzi’s top, making quick eye contact and pulling it off when Azzi smiles at her.

“Fuck,” Paige says, staring at Azzi’s tits through her lacy bra.

Azzi watches her with amusement, running her hands through Paige’s hair. “You’re no better than a man.”

“I’m not,” Paige agrees, leaning down to litter kisses over all the newly exposed skin. Feeling her lips over her warm skin is good, but it’s not…enough.

“Paige, can you…”

Paige’s eyes dart up to her, searching her face. “You want me to?”

“Uh-huh.”

Paige’s hands move up from her lower back to her bra clasp, and Azzi lifts slightly off the bed to make it easier. Paige makes quick work of it and then she’s sliding that down her shoulders, throwing it across the room like it’s offended her.

Azzi’s hazy as fuck, high and floaty and carefree, but when Paige looks down at Azzi and stares, everything suddenly feels too scary, too vulnerable. She moves to cover herself up, but Paige catches her wrists, pressing a kiss against each of them, eyes darting back to Azzi’s with a comforting smile. “You okay?”

Azzi nods, then shakes her head, then squeezes her eyes shut, embarrassed. “You’re just—looking at me.”

“I am,” Paige says, and Azzi hates the way she sounds slightly amused. “Az, look at me, for real.”

Reluctantly, Azzi does, and Paige’s eyes are all red and hooded and the smile on her face is dopey and she looks faded as hell, but this is still her best friend. The one who knows her, who sees her—who is seeing her like this, right now—and who still continues to be her best friend.

“I’ll stop looking, if you want,” Paige murmurs, leaning down to brush her lips against Azzi’s ear. “But I don’t think you want that, do you?”

The ache between her legs is nearly painful at this point. Truthfully, Azzi shakes her head.

“You look good, Az,” Paige responds, pulling away and leaning back down to her tits. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

She looks up through her lashes as she leans down and suckles a nipple into her mouth.

Azzi sighs at the first real contact of the night, hands fisting Paige’s hair to pull her impossibly closer, hips bucking up on their own accord.

Paige holds her down, mumbling at her to be patient while she trails kisses over to her other tit, licking around it and flicking her tongue over her nipple before she sucks a mark into the skin just beside it.

“Paige,” Azzi gasps, cradling her best friend’s head close. “Feels so good, oh my God.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, grazing her teeth over Azzi’s sensitive nipple. Azzi keens, hips fighting against Paige to reach up, looking for any type of friction. It makes her chuckle against Azzi’s skin. “She wants me so bad, huh?”

“Don’t refer to it as she,” Azzi giggles, and Paige laughs, too.

“I’ll say whatever I wanna say,” Paige replies, laughing a bit as her kisses stray further down Azzi’s chest, head bobbing a little to the music in the background while she kisses her languidly.

Azzi smiles down at the top of her head. “This is so crazy.”

“What?” Paige licks around Azzi’s belly piercing, not stopping her when she bucks up this time. “That I’m bouta go down on you?”

Azzi nods, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. “Yeah. Isn’t it crazy?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, sucking a mark into Azzi’s abs. “Knew I’d do this someday, though.”

Azzi pushes her shoulder playfully. “You did not.”

“Did too.” She smiles devilishly, wiggling her eyebrows while she kisses around the mark she’s made. “You couldn’t resist me if you tried.”

“Shut up,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes.

“Nah,” Paige replies, fingers moving to the button of her jean shorts and fumbling with it. “And you better fix your attitude.”

“What, before you fix it for me?” Azzi asks, lifting her hips to help Paige pull the shorts down.

“Careful,” Paige responds, throwing the shorts somewhere across the room. “Might have to fuck it outta you.”

Azzi nearly whines at the mere thought, and then Paige spreads her legs wide and places open-mouthed kisses on the inside of her thigh, and she really does whine.

Paige bites the soft flesh there, soothing her hands up Azzi’s stomach as she does so.

Azzi’s head falls back once again, because she’s worried if she keeps looking at Paige she’ll come just from this.

“Mm,” Paige hums into her thigh, licking a long stripe up to where she needs her, tongue stopping just shy of her core. “Watchu want, baby? Want me to eat this pussy?”

Azzi’s hips cant up at the words, a breathy moan escaping her lips. “Yes, shit, want you so bad.”

“Know you do,” Paige coos, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s cunt, clothed only in her thong. “So fuckin’ sexy.”

Azzi swears she’s actually floating at this point, levitating off the bed from Paige’s words, her touch, which has gotta be magic.

“Take them—off,” Azzi insists, hands going to the waistband of her panties to do it herself, but Paige stops her.

“I gotchu,” she mutters, kissing down her legs while she pulls the thong down Azzi’s leg, and it soon joins the rest of her clothes on the hotel room floor.

She sits back on her knees, hands rubbing Azzi’s thighs as she admires her, all spread out just for Paige.

And then she bends down and presses the flat of her tongue against Azzi’s dripping cunt.

“Fuck!” Azzi cries out, the sensation against her pussy unfamiliar and sort of odd and so, so good.

Paige licks up her one more time, gathering her wetness before she separates her folds with her fingers and sucks her clit into her mouth, eliciting a surprised gasp from Azzi.

“Good?” she mumbles, pulling back just enough to look up at her.

Azzi nods, pushing her head down urgently. “Uh-huh, just keep going, baby.”

Paige smirks, looping her arms around Azzi’s thighs and pulling her closer, Azzi gasping as she’s jerked forward. She gets back to it, kitten-licking Azzi’s cunt, eyes closed as she tastes her, and then she opens them and groans. “Fuck, Az. Such a pretty fucking pussy.”

A flush settles over Azzi’s entire body at the words, goosebumps popping up over her bare skin even though she’s the farthest thing from cold.

Paige lays one of her hands flat against Azzi’s pelvis, reaching down and using her pointer finger and thumb to keep her spread open while she places filthy, open-mouthed kisses over her cunt, tongue dipping into her like it did her mouth while they were making out. Azzi props herself up on her elbows, chest heaving, wanting to watch. Paige opens her eyes and catches sight of her—hair tossed over one shoulder, tits rising and falling, abs clenching against the pleasure in her core—and groans, sending vibrations straight through Azzi’s pussy.

Paige’s eyes stay open, all hooded and sexy, as she moves her head down and finally dips her tongue inside Azzi’s entrance, pulling a high-pitched whine from her.

Something flashes in Paige’s eyes and Azzi isn’t really sure what happens, but the next thing she knows Paige is burying her entire face in her cunt, tongue fucking up inside of her so good, and Azzi’s head falls back as she lets out a moan that’s downright pornographic. “Oh, feels so good—gonna come, ‘m so close.”

Paige only nods, doubling her efforts and moving her head back and forth, pulling her tongue out to lick repeatedly from her hole to her clit, creating a rhythm that’s absolutely deadly, and then Azzi’s legs are shaking violently, thighs clamping around Paige’s head, and Paige sucks her clit into her mouth and shakes her head, and Azzi practically screams Paige’s name as she comes hard.

Paige eats her through it, slowing down but not stopping, Azzi falling back against the sheets, unable to hold herself up anymore.

“Fuck,” Paige mumbles into her pussy, and when Azzi tilts her head she finds Paige’s mouth and chin shiny with her own slick. “So pretty, mama. Look at you,” she kisses against Azzi’s hole, “comin’ all over my face like that.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, reaching down to push Paige’s head away from her overstimulated cunt. Paige doesn’t budge, kissing up to her twitching clit, causing Azzi to jerk. “Baby, it’s too much.”

Paige’s tongue comes back out, licking delicately at her entrance. “Please, Az. One more.”

Azzi shakes her head, holding onto Paige’s hair, trying to close her thighs. “I can’t.”

“Yeah you can,” Paige murmurs against her, nose nuzzling her clit while she tongues her entrance again. “Be such a good girl for me and take it, huh?”

Paige holds Azzi’s thighs firmly open, and Azzi is already dripping again, so that’s that.

Paige digs back in, slurping at Azzi’s impossibly wet cunt, eating her like she’s a woman starved. Azzi is still so sensitive from the last one and it almost hurts when Paige suckles her clit, but it also makes her whine, hips lifting off the bed to hump against Paige’s face.

Paige moans into her, teeth grazing ever-so-slightly against her engorged clit, and that does it—with a weak cry, blonde hair fisted in her hands, Azzi comes for the second time, hips immediately trying to get away as Paige works her through it.

Wiping her face with the back of her hand, Paige crawls back up Azzi’s body, smiling proudly. “Did so good, baby,” she coos, kissing Azzi’s cheek before collapsing next to her, pulling her into her side.

Azzi lets herself be held, tracing her fingers gently over the skin of Paige’s stomach. “You’re good at that.”

“I know, mama,” Paige chuckles.

“Hey…” Azzi presses her hand against Paige’s stomach and lifts herself up so they’re face-to-face, “Paigey, I wanna do you, too.”

Paige stares at her, then shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good, baby.”

“Please?” Azzi pouts. It’s totally unfair that she’s laying here, naked and spent, while Paige is still fully clothed and untouched.

“We gotta go to sleep, it’s getting late,” Paige replies, pulling Azzi back down.

“Why can’t I?” Azzi pries, laying her head on Paige’s chest. “I’d be good, I promise.”

“I know you would,” Paige replies, and she sounds like she means it. “I just…it’s okay. Really.”

Azzi doesn’t argue any more, because Paige is tracing soothing shapes over her back, and slowly but surely she’s being lulled to sleep.

But she does wonder, vaguely, if she will ever get the chance to do this again. And, more pressingly—what this means for them.

—————————————————

The next morning, the first thing Azzi does when she wakes is reach blindly across the bed for something warm and solid and snuggly named Paige.

Her hands fist cold sheets, and her eyes shoot open.

“P?” she calls, listening for sound in the bathroom. No answer.

Azzi looks down at herself, naked and bruised from the waist down.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Paige,” Azzi tries again, rolling out of bed and reaching for her phone. No messages. No note on the bedside table.

Pulling the sheet up to cover herself—even though nobody’s around—she navigates to Paige’s contact and constructs a message:

Hey, where’d you go?

She waits a few minutes for the answer, but when it comes, it’s wholly disappointing:

Went for a run. Be back by eleven.

The period at the end is all too telling.

Paige fucked her last night. And then left her to wake up cold and alone in the morning.

There’s nothing good about this.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa @router2260 @guesswhoitsn @patri-ots87 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @ijustreadignoreme @pazzilover101

also lmk if yall want the songs i listened to while writing *that* scene ��

[joooooniecore]

After all this time - Chapter 7

Your friends have been successful enough to drag you out of your workaholic routine for a vacation out of country.

The only problem? Your long term crush who actually used to be your best friend is also going there. And he is bringing his girlfriend, your ex-female best friend.

What could go wrong? Right?

✧˖* pairing: ex-bestfriend!mingyu x f!reader

✧˖* chapter count: master-list

✧˖* genre: ex-best friend mingyu, friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow-burn, smut.

✧˖* playlist: spotify playlist

✧˖* full work warnings: resurfaced old feelings, toxic relationship(not between the main characters), angst, confusions, resentments, past misunderstandings, a very slow burn

✧˖* explicit warnings: penetration, explicit language, cursing, bodily fluids, praising, body worship.

✧˖* author's note: this chapter isn’t a progress to the story. it is more of like mingyu’s point of view throughout this trip in short. this chapter includes incidents from the start of the journey till christmas eve. it's kind of a filler chapter. i might post chapter 8 before monday because i have already edited it too. let's see. thank you to everyone who is showing love to my story. i am so glad for the comments. the ideas, the guesses you guys are making truly are good. the comments always make me laugh and smile. thank you for supporting me. on days i feel like i am drowning, your comments save me. i love you all!<3

--- love, artemis.

✧˖* tag-list: @ana-marais98 @hellosighsophy-blog @ppaia @mingyuisthevictimofsvt @tokitosun @iarayara @cheolliesvt @seungcheolsblackcard @alohacrispyrn @minhui896 @callmemadhatter @xxluvzrrrx

COMMENT TO BE IN THE TAG-LIST!<3

<< chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8>>

The moment Mingyu heard your name come out of Seungkwan’s mouth, his heart started racing. It has been ages since he last saw you. You were his ride or die in college. The person he allowed to be in his inner circle. The person he allowed himself to share his secrets and hobbies with. The salt to his pepper. The person he was once immensely in love with.

Mingyu was certainly left heartbroken when you decided to suddenly ghost him. He had tried many times to strike a conversation but you seemed to ignore him. He was lonely, and Maya resolved the loneliness. He got attached to her and made her, his anchor.

Now, hearing your name and also the possibility of meeting you, was causing a storm inside him. He thought he was over you. He thought that if he really met you in future, he wouldn’t feel anything towards you but he was definitely wrong. He dreaded this trip but seeing his friends being so excited about it, he finally gave in.

The day he again met you for the first time at Seungkwan’s place, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were wearing a sweatshirt too big for you, with your hair tied up in a bun and glasses on your nose. Your soft flushed cheeks in the winter cold, the way your eyes went wide when you saw him and he bathed in that attention of yours. He knew that you were as flustered as he was after not talking for so long. You were looking as gorgeous as ever. You were so engrossed in sorting out Seungkwan’s belongings, a visible pout on your face which only happened when you are doing something very attentively. He adored you and that scared him.

 Mingyu greeted you as normally as he could but the desperation seemingly seeped through his words.

He was this close to asking you about the reasons that made you ghost him, but Maya’s call ruined the moment. He saw your face fall, as you created some distance and he felt guilty for almost sabotaging his relationship. That night he had a fight with Maya and at this point he was just used to it. The relationship with Maya was all flowers and happy rainbows for the first year only. She was great in making him forget about you. But as the years went by, she seemed to get more desperate and greedier. Mingyu knew that she was with him for the generational wealth that he might attain someday but, in his mind, he was sure that he will more likely give it away to some orphanage.

The trip itself was pure torture. He saw you being all giggly and happy and it made his insides flip. He really thought he was over the feeling but every time you talked or even entered the room, his eyes would immediately follow you, trying to grasp in every move you make. To him, you were the most beautiful. The prettiest girl he has ever seen. If in college he fell for your youthful charms, then now he was in love with the way you held your ground. It’s the way you always stand ready to help someone, and that made his heart flutter.

He tried to strike a conversation many times, but you politely created distance. Even Maya showed annoyance when he tried to talk with you and he had no idea why. He was sure that there seemed to happen a fight between you both in college but that still doesn’t explain the fact why Maya was seemingly scared when he tried to talk with you.

That night when he saw you sitting alone in the dining area, he couldn’t control his legs as they took him to where you sat. The dimly lit bulb gave you such a soft delicate glow, that it mesmerized him as he walked towards you.

“Can’t sleep?”, Mingyu whispered in the softest voice so as to not startle you.

You looked at him, with half lidded eyes and he was surely a goner. Sucking his teeth, he decided to get a cup of tea himself as the urge to spend more time with you won over his rational thoughts. The tea being served helped as a reminder that he was just here as a friend and nothing more. He watched you slowly take sips as you closed your eyes in satisfaction. His pupils dilated as he took every little detail of you in.

Without giving it much thought, Mingyu shifted closer to you, softly dragging the chair so as to not make noise. He visibly saw you flinch as he kept his hand on top of yours. The warmth of your skin seeping through his as he basked in your presence.

“You know I missed you right?”, he said sounding almost desperate for some kind of reassurance.

“I hated how you distanced yourself.”, was what he told next, embracing you in a friendly side hug. Suddenly the distance seemed so less as he stared into your brown wide eyes which were now widened with shock. He saw you create distance and he allowed it. He saw you stand up, abandoning your half-finished tea and he allowed it. He allowed himself to let you go like every other time. He knew you will never be his and he will always be a coward in a toxic relationship. His life was way too complicated and he never wanted your life to be part of that complex web of emotions.

As he saw you walk towards your room, he simply smiled at himself. He was stupidly in love and he had no idea how to move on from this feeling.

The first seed of doubt took its home in his mind when he entered his room in the evening and saw Maya talking with someone on call, standing in the balcony that they got with this bedroom. She was giggling and laughing as she talked. At first, he thought it was one of her friends and decided to ignore it as he sat on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. The soft click of the balcony door notified him that she was done with her call. It wasn’t supposed to be a case of doubt but the moment Maya entered the room and saw Mingyu, she visibly flinched.

“When did you come back?”, she asked as her eyes looked anywhere but him.

“A few minutes ago. You were on call so I didn’t bother you.”, he nonchalantly replied.

Maya murmured something along the lines that she didn’t hear him enter and that created a doubt in his head. Why would she have to stay on guard about him entering their shared room? But Mingyu allowed it to slide off his mind as he decided to read some article he found online.

The next seed of doubt took its place when they all went to the Prague Astronomical Clock. Mingyu was busy clicking pictures when he saw Maya approach him to check the photos that he has clicked which he politely refused. He saw Maya retract as she sat on a bench, scrolling on her phone. He sighed in relief.

He hated showing the raw pictures he clicked to anyone. It was a pet peeve he had. A few moments later he heard Maya’s phone ring and when he looked at her, she was already walking to the opposite direction, laughing and giggling with the person on call.

The final blow was a day before the Christmas Eve. In the morning, they went to the market nearby to buy gifts for their loved ones. He wandered off the streets along with Maya who pointed at every pretty item, demanding him to buy it for her. He tried to refuse some of them while the others he bought for her. He was constantly getting frustrated by the fact that she was always on phone and always chatting with someone. He didn’t want to act like a controlling boyfriend so he ignored it as they hopped from shop to shop.

He even stayed silent when Maya decided to belittle you. He saw the way your face became pale and your eyes became strict, as you walked out of the shop.

“Why would you say her that?”, he asked once you were out of sight.

“She deserved it. Trust me.”, said Maya in her arrogant voice.

“I don’t think so.”, said Mingyu trying to stand his ground.

“Why are you being so soft about her again?”, Maya snapped.

“Well, she is our friend after all!”, said Mingyu, his voice sounding frustrated.

“You are seriously being pathetic Kim Mingyu. Are you seriously defending a girl who didn’t even resonate your love back?”, Maya commented wickedly and Mingyu decided to stay silent. He decided to get some batteries for his camera and Maya told him that she will wait outside the shop.

Maya was never really into the concept of photography. Yes, she did love getting her pictures clicked but she never understood how that can be someone’s passion. When Mingyu decided to become a professional photographer as his side business, Maya was disappointed. She really wanted him to take a position in his dad’s company. But Mingyu had other plans. He never really wanted to continue the legacy and his father was okay with it. His father never really forced him to do something against his will and so when he started his own business, his dad was the biggest shareholder in it.

It took Mingyu some time to find the correct batteries and when he got out of the shop, he saw Maya again talking with someone. Realizing that Maya is unknown of his presence, he decided to stand there and listen.

“Yes. Yes. He has no idea that we will meet.”, said Maya and Mingyu’s blood ran cold.

The other person on the call seemed to ask her few things which she answered in this honey dipped voice that gave Mingyu the ick.

“Yes, baby I will meet you there.”, she finally said as she ended the call.

Mingyu rushed inside the shop to take a breather and then came out as if nothing happened. He held Maya’s hand and guided her to where all the friends were supposed to meet.

The rest of the day went in a blur and in the evening, for the first time he decided to talk in your favour. He told in front of everyone how great you were in photography which left your friends in shock. Mingyu didn’t even care about Maya being upset at this point. He was so pissed off by what he heard that he was ready to break up with her the moment this trip comes to an end.

His attraction for Maya was already fading and this was the last nail in the coffin. But he needed proofs. He needed evidence of her cheating because she was a great manipulator. She will find out a way to prove that he was just doubting her for no reason.

He finally got a chance to prove himself when Maya talked about a party at a bar for Christmas Eve. Apparently, she came to know about it from a friend who lives here. She was acting all casual about it as the rest of the group agreed but he had plans. He needed to catch her red handed. He decided to approach Seungcheol and take him in this plan.

“Hyung, can I talk to you for a second?”, asked Mingyu as soon as Seungcheol opened his room’s door.

It was in the afternoon after they came home from the long tour of the palace. Mingyu was actually fucked because of how you were dressed in the morning. The short black dress drove him crazy as he couldn’t help but click your pictures in each of the locations. In the cathedral too, he was pushed against you by a crowd but he willingly stayed there, enjoying holding you close.

You seemed so mesmerized by the interior that you completely ignored when the guide told everyone to look up at the ceiling. Your eyes sparkled as you saw the tinted window panes and the main central region. Seeing how you stared in confusion at what the guide just said, Mingyu closed the distance, for his own selfish needs and dipped his head too close to your nape, taking your flowery perfume in.

“She told us to look up, silly.”, he whispered in his deep hoarse voice as he couldn’t help himself from getting close to you.

He saw the blush visibly creep up your cheeks as you nodded bashfully and looked up at the ceiling, beyond amazed at the beautiful patterns. As you admired the beautiful architecture of the cathedral, he took his time to admire you.

Maya was as usual chatting on her phone all day and barely gave him attention which somehow felt like a relief to him. The moment he heard Seungcheol talk about confessing, his heart decided to kill itself. He didn’t know that you had someone in your life and that almost left him heartbroken. He wasn’t sure if he should have asked for Seungcheol’s help, but he was the only one in this group who thought logically.

Seungcheol quirked his eyebrows as if questioning his intentions but gave in and allowed the larger male to enter his room. Mingyu sat on the bed beside Seungcheol.

“What is it?”, Seungcheol asked.

“I-I just firstly don’t tell anyone okay?”, begged Mingyu, clearly not wanting to ruin the vacation for anyone else.

Seungcheol nodded his head as he promised to keep his mouth shut.

“I think. No, I am sure Maya is cheating on me.”, Mingyu finally said as he waited for the aftermath.

Seungcheol’s eyes went wide in shock as he held Mingyu by his shoulders and ask, “What? Are you sure about it?”

Mingyu sighed, “Yes hyung. I am sure. I heard her talk to someone on call about the exact same party we are going to and she thinks that I don’t know that they both will meet there.”

Seungcheol gasped as he stared at Mingyu in shock, “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. I am fine. I just need to catch her red handed and then it...”, Mingyu’s blabbering was stopped when Seungcheol raised a hand to shut his mouth.

“I meant. Are you feeling fine? Your girlfriend is cheating on you. If you feel sad, you can share the frustration.”, Seungcheol explained.

Mingyu stared at the older man in shock. In the fog of trying to catch her red handed, he had almost forgotten to even register this feeling. Of course he was upset. He wanted to punch a wall but the thought of finally breaking up with her felt more like a relief than a sad thought. Mingyu was honestly tired of the everyday fights and the constant nagging of doing better for her.

Maya was always downplaying his achievements. She always nagged him to buy things and when he declined compiling to her requests, she would blackmail him. Till now Mingyu was weak, he didn’t want to cause any issue in their relationship but after seeing you here, his mind was always occupied by you and so letting Maya go was easy.

“Yes. I am fine. Don’t tell anyone but I am actually relieved. I was tired of the everyday fights and naggings. She always had something to say about me and always pointed some kind of flaw in the relationship. We have had broken up in the past but every time she somehow manipulates her way back into my life. I am tired. Please just help me with this.”, Mingyu practically begged Seungcheol.

“I will help you. What do I need to do?”, asked Seungcheol.

Mingyu’s eyes brightened. He sat up straight and spoke, “We will go to the party early along with Maya. Then me and you will get out to get a breather and as far as I know her, she will try to meet her partner when we do it. I will enter in and will most probably catch her red handed.”

“Do you really want to cause a scene there? We still have four more days left.”, said Seungcheol.

“Oh. No, I don’t want that. What should I do hyung?”, whined Mingyu.

“Aish this kid. Okay how about this? We act like we are going out but we don’t. I know the places in that club. I used to study here. I will keep you hidden from her while she goes to meet that man and we can click some pictures and videos and you can use them in future as you please.”, explained Seungcheol.

“Wow. You are a genius hyung.”, complimented Mingyu.

Seungcheol gave a hearty laugh as he patted Mingyu’s back. They stayed in silence for a bit and then Seungcheol decided to speak, “Do you like ____?”

The question made Mingyu stiffen. He had no idea how Seungcheol concluded that but here it was. Seungcheol was intelligent, he knew that but he didn’t know how the older man would know about this.

“I- Why would you ask that?”, Mingyu tried to deflect the subject.

“Come on Mingyu. I am not a kid. I can see the way your eyes travel to find her in a crowded room. I saw you take glances at her even when Maya was actively talking with you.”, Seungcheol said as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine. Yes, I love her. I have loved her since college. I thought I was over it but then I saw her again and I realized that I am fucked. I know she likes someone else though.”, chuckled Mingyu bitterly.

Seungcheol stayed silent as he created even more panic in Mingyu’s mind.

“Does she know about my feelings?”, asked Mingyu, clearly scared of the answer.

“I don’t think so. She is pretty much dumb.”, chuckled Seungcheol to which Mingyu nodded.

The conversation ended with Mingyu talking about you and Seungcheol happily listening to him being in love.

The night came soon as everyone got dressed and were off to the party. Maya was extremely enthusiastic about it the whole ride and that caused Mingyu to only shift uncomfortably. He awkwardly laughed and allowed his hand to go around Maya’s waist when she kept her head on his shoulder. It felt like a pit in his stomach. He was heartbroken, mad and extremely furious. He promised himself to keep his calm.

Everyone soon arrived and despite him being trying to keep an eye on his so-called girlfriend, he couldn’t resist but try to find you as the others entered the room. The moment his eyes fell on you, the world stopped around him. He could no longer hear the music or see anyone as his eyes zeroed on your approaching figure. In the short red dress, that sinfully accentuated your curves as it fell perfectly right above your knees. Your hair in its natural wavey form made him go feral. Just when he thought he was done ogling, you turned around to say something to Seungkwan and he saw the backless dress in its full glamour.

Mingyu had this carnal urge to just ignore everything and grab you by the waist to kiss you right then and there. You were looking gorgeous and tonight it felt even more irresistible. He was controlling himself. He grabbed the edge of the table too harshly which caused Seungcheol to swat his hand away before he hurts himself.

“Huh? What hyung?”, Mingyu asked, clearly flustered.

“I can smell your hormones Mingyu. Calm down.”, Seungcheol teased him with a smirk.

“God I am such a foolish man.”, Mingyu groaned as he hid his face in his palm.

He heard Seungcheol chuckle before he sipped his drink to calm his nerves down.

Before he could decipher anything else, a lot of things happened. Maya excused herself to go to the washroom and Seungkwan pulled you to the dance floor before he could even greet you. He groaned again as he pulled Seungcheol along with him to follow Maya. He felt like he was breaking Maya’s trust by being suspicious. Even though he was mentally done with this relationship, he still somehow wanted all this to be a false alarm. He was a very diligent man and he hated being used for his loyalty. Every thought came crashing down when Seungcheol pulled him behind one of the cabinets and pointed towards the corner of the hallway.

“Sorry dude but you need to look.”, Seungcheol whispered.

Mingyu’s eyes followed the elder’s fingers and saw Maya wrapped around another dude, as they kissed. His blood ran cold. He wanted to run there, and catch her red handed. The urge to see the shock on Maya’s face was too much but a grip on his shoulder stopped him. Seungcheol somehow knew his thoughts and he just silently agreed and snapped pictures and made a few videos before walking back to where his friends were seated.

The moment he walked past the dance floor, his eyes fell on you. But this time his eyes were aggressive. His jaw hardened as he saw some guy trying to get handsy with you which you were clearly saying no to. He couldn’t control himself as he walked up to the guy, towering over his height by a lot of inches as he glared. The guy was a total coward as he scurried away without even putting up a fight.

Mingyu took you out in the fresh air, and asked you about the trip. He sat in silence beside you, as the city dazzled around the entire arena. Mingyu always felt calm in your presence. Your mere presence was enough to make him feel at peace. Mingyu was always a busy kid and you were always there to make him enjoy the leisure.

After mustering a lot of courage, he finally asked you about something that has been bothering him for ages. He really wanted to know the reason you and Maya ended the friendship. You became so closed off after that, that he never found a chance to ask you.

You explained, clearly trying to sound respectful. He wanted to tell you the truth. He wanted to show you the pictures so that you could console him. He wanted you to talk about Maya with the anger that you clearly tried to suppress. The truth left him in shambles. Maya has always been a liar through and through. He has no idea how many things she has lied about but he wants to fix it all. He wants this trip to end soon so that he can start afresh.

He didn’t say much as you said every single detail. He just wanted to become friends with you again and you seemed to agree. Maybe someday he will actually be brave enough to confess.

click <<here>> to go to chapter 8!

✧˖* end notes: posting every monday! do suggest me ideas if you have any. also do like and comment!! it gives me motivation to write better.<3

[live-laugh-lenney]

omg i’ve just had the sweetest thought😭

arthurtv letting his gf sit on his lap during their streams together and just playing video games together and being all cute

please, this is adorable! i think i have a small blurb on here somewhere that has a really small scene where she goes and sits on his lap during a filming session...

newbie.

that's what her friends called her whenever they were on a stream on discord during a gaming session. even though she'd been streaming and gaming for a few months now, and knew the ropes on when the best time was to stream for her followers and what games they would enjoy seeing her play, the nickname stuck.

before she met arthur, she worked a normal 9-5 job in a local shop that was a short walk away from her london flat, getting up early in the mornings with a routine planned out for her entire day. but the more and more she was seen in arthur's videos and the more she was featured in his vlogs and the more she appeared on their friends' youtube channels, the more people wanted to see her doing her own thing.

so she took up streaming, where she held gaming nights with the two arthur's and george and chris and where she held nights where she would just waffle about her life to the camera, just to get a feel for it. to see whether she enjoyed it. to see whether it took off or whether it wasn't worth the hassle in changing to her career. coming home after a busy day at work, having dinner, before she disappeared to sit in front of her computer for a couple of hours.

george let the nickname slip.

once.

during a game of fortnite because it was a game highly requested by her followers to play in a squad match with her friends - to the point where she would even venture out of her circle and play with some of her followers who requested a chance to be in her team. and she was terrible at it; she claimed any form of shooting game or games that required skill were never her forte and that she was simply doing it for the entertainment factor as people loved to see them all in a joking manner with banter being thrown around.

and it stuck.

she couldn't shake it off, months later. not that she minded, at all. she found it quite endearing and sweet how she was loved and welcomed into arthur's circle with wide-open arms by his best friends, like she'd always been a part of something special, as if she'd known them her whole life. because the last thing she ever wanted was to be placed as an outsider by his friends, know as just 'arthur's girlfriend' who led her own life and never involved herself as a part of their group or was never included in their plans.

they loved her, and respected her, and that was all that mattered.

and they'd been her biggest supporters from the moment she chose to make streaming and content creation her new career path. they were with her the moment she quit her job, they helped her to create her own gaming setup in her spare room, and they gave her tips and pointers on making videos and editing, giving her as much help as they possibly could to kickstart her new start. and she was incredibly thankful for all of them.

there was something she loved about making money off of having fun with her friends, her boyfriend and her followers. and, as time passed, she felt lucky to have been given the platform she had been given and never took it for granted.

"i'm going to save the last two episodes of this story for the stream tomorrow," yn says to the camera propped up before her, suddenly feeling the hefty weight of the headphones sitting upon her head and she could feel her ears getting hot from the padding, "i think we did good tonight, we completed almost all of it in two hours."

she watched arthur play a couple of episodes of lego star wars on a stream, not too long before, and she found something therapeutic about re-completing a game that she had already played before. how she used to love playing it when she was younger and that it was something nostalgic for her... so she'd asked him to show her how to stream herself playing it which he had no issue with doing.

"i can smell dinner, i think arthur's cooked for me," yn grins at her screen's monitor, her belly rumbling from the wafting scent of some form of seasoned meat in the air, "he's a cutie. in case you haven't realised, this isn't my usual setup."

she took a look behind her and, if people were clever enough, they'd see arthur's setup just behind her in his own spare room.

"arthur created a little space for me in his office so we can game and film videos together sometimes," she grins widely, reading all of the sweet comments that came through on the screen; some vibing with her and how cute arthur could be to others sending in games for them to play together, "he said he had a surprise for me when i came over tonight and he showed me this. i could have cried on the spot."

her eyes glazed over the comments, flowing in constantly, and it was hard for her to keep track of what people were saying.

"maybe we'll do a little setup tour for my youtube," she suggests and shrugs at the camera with a nonchalant grin on her lips, "maybe it'll be with you guys in the next couple of days. maybe not. you'll just have to wait and see."

she closed the game from her monitor and let a blank screen fill the space, her own face appearing in the bottom corner as she prepared to close down the stream for the night.

"same time tomorrow, troops. i'll see you then. love to you all," she blew a kiss to the camera and waved, "bye!"

she made sure everything was closed down before she stood to her feet, sliding her headphones off of her head and hanging them up on their little stand beside her screen, stretching out her back from the aches and the cricks that were forming from her hunched position over the last couple of hours. she tucked her chair back underneath her desk and grabbed her water bottle before leaving the room, into the open space of his living room, which was filled with the smells of something delicious.

she noticed the table was set with plates and cutlery before she saw him standing at his kitchen island, dishing everything into bowls so they could help themselves to however much they fancied that night, pan in his hand as he scooped beef strips into a ceramic bowl.

"good stream?"

"the best," yn grins widely as she took her seat at the table, "we hit 2k viewers about an hour ago."

"oh, that's brilliant," arthur gasps proudly and he supports the most genuine smile on his lips, looking at her as she grins proudly, "i told you you'd get there eventually."

"they loved the setup, too," she smiles, watching as he set the pan down in the sink before he picked up the plate of wraps and the bowl of beef strips, leaving behind the salad on the bar that he was going to go back and pick up once he set his full hands down on the table, "i might have to stream here more often now."

"that was the plan," he admits, setting the bowl and the plate down before he went back to the breakfast, not without passing her by and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "i'm really proud of you."

"couldn't have done it without you," she says.

he sits down at the table beside her, both of them in a position to see the sun setting over london, painting the surface of the thames with oranges and pinks, the last of the sun shimmering on the windows of the buildings opposite.

"i've got a video to film tonight, do you fancy being a part of it? could do a watch-along together," he suggests, filling up a wrap with beef and some salad, wrapping it all up with a fajita-style fold before he took a hearty bite from the top, "people have been asking for you to make another appearance."

"only if you're fine with that," she says, following his actions as she filled her own wrap up, "what are you watching?"

"it's just a short video from reddit about nature and animals," he says and she laughs softly, "what?"

"nothing, i just love your little fascination with the animal kingdom," she admits and he blushes, looking down at his plate, "it's cute. i find it fascinating when you talk about anything like that. all the facts you tell me. it's like having my own walking, talking encyclopaedia."

and when it comes to filming, she finds comfort in sitting closer to him as they watch the reddit videos together. she's wrapped in one of his throw blankets, in her comfiest clothes (which was a tee from his wardrobe and a pair of black cycling shorts peeking out from the bottom), settled on his lap with his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady on his thighs.

"an orca slapping a dolphin straight out the sea," he reads from the screen and, as the two of them watch nature take its course, they're both completely enamoured by the scene before them, "oh, jeez. the amount of air that thing gets is insane."

"they're the bullies of the ocean," yn adds and she remembers arthur saying something like that previously, when they'd been cuddled up in bed with a documentary about the ocean playing as they wound down for the night, "i bet that was an incredible thing to witness happen though. being that close to a dolphin seems amazing but to be that close to an orca, too? it's a bonus, a two in one special."

"have you ever seen a dolphin?"

she shakes her head and cranes her head to look at him, "never. it's on my bucket list though. that and to see the whales off the coast of gibraltar."

"maybe we'll take a trip," he says, "one day. i think i'd love to see that, too."

she leans back a little more comfortably on his lap, her back resting against his front as she brings her knees to her chest, tightening the blanket around her body to keep her from being too exposed to the camera and to keep her a little warmer, his arm helping to bring her closer to him.

"that was probably his killer instincts coming out though," yn explains and arthur cocks an eyebrow, confused, at her, "what?"

"they don't eat dolphins?"

"they do," she nods and he's genuinely surprised by her little bit of knowledge on orca's and their food chain, "they don't just eat seals and penguins, arthur. they eat dolphins and other sea creatures, too."

"look at you, eh?" he teases softly and, in that moment, they forget the camera is rolling and that they're actually filming a video for his second channel, "you're just as nerdy as me when it comes to the animal kingdom. my interests are rubbing off on you."

"i have my surprises," she grins and brings a hand up to poke a finger into his nose, "i know it might not seem like it sometimes but i am interested in your interests, silly." xx

[pixeldolly]

Walden BACC

The whole family was present for the conversation which followed; Kate would've had to lock Aster and Nova up to keep them away.

Besides, they were almost thirteen years old. Old enough to hear what Sepal had to say.

Sepal told his story as best he could using only words: how he had not been slated to become a Pollination Technician - instead, he was initially trained to be an anthropologist, a scholar - but a routine test revealed that his genotype made him more useful as a pollinator, instead.

He had never been happy with the assigned role. He still yearned to explore, study, learn about alien peoples and civilizations. The thought of having many offspring scattered across the galaxy whom he would never meet made him sad.

"Among my people, we don't get a choice. We perform the duties assigned to us, according to our personalities and aptitudes which are assessed throughout childhood. It's supposed to help create a productive and harmonious society, where everyone performs the role they are best suited for."

"How very dystopian."

"I am not familiar with that term."

"I'm not surprised; it doesn't seem like the sort of concept they'd want you to learn over there. Basically, it denotes an oppressive, totalitarian society where people are stripped of their rights and freedoms."

If she had just insulted Sepal's culture, Kate didn't care. It frankly sounded like something straight out of Brave New Sim-World.

Sepal didn't seem offended, though.

"Our society wasn't always this way, but certain measures were implemented after the disaster which nearly made my species go extinct. It's quite effective- and we're not oppressed. Aside from our duties and reproduction, we're free to do whatever we please."

Right, Kate thought, unimpressed. Apart from having the freedom to choose how to live their lives, everyone is perfectly free!

"So why are you here?"

"I rebelled. I didn't want to be a Pollination Technician anymore. I was offered two choices: behavioral editing or exile."

Kate was outraged. Behavioral editing?! Or, in other words, brainwashing!

"I chose exile."

A long, meaningful silence greeted this statement.

"And you decided to come here, because...?"

"I...I didn't know where else to go. I know you don't remember me, Katherine, but I remember you. There was...a connection between us. I couldn't think of anyone else who might help me. I'm sorry if that was presumptuous of me."

"If you want me to leave, I will."

[semyla]

Training & Culinary Arts

Summary: A new routine has been implemented on your daily basis now, one was training Zoro and Perona to become stronger, but also making healthy meals for them.

Edit: Sorry guys if the first chapter didn’t make any sense I didn’t know how to write it properly, my bad everyone.

Days had passed and after things calmed down, a new routine has now began. Zoro, the swordsman had started training with Mihawk, Mihawk had ask you for help in the process of it.

You would do warm ups and exercise to help him with his body and help him to become even tougher. He had already told you how he train, which you expected no less when he told you he trained like a savage.

Sports became a big thing, playing basketball became a main thing. Baseball was taken out of the list, because Zoro had thrown the ball twice too hard and two fast, one hitting a window and another either to the forest or lake, and finding them had gotten Zoro lost. 

"You are getting a lot more better now" You said bouncing the ball in position as Zoro stood in front of you.

"Really? Thanks, I only learning from the best" Zoro said smirking and carefully analyzing your moves.

The moment you try making a move Zoro makes one too, but a very bad one. He decide that maybe going at full speed and force he had be able to take the ball from you, for doing both of your legs tangled up making you almost fall. Zoro  had panicked and grabbed you.

"Good job Roronoa, you just won a charge, a personal foul charge" Mihawk said as he had sat down watching the whole game, as you hang on to Zoro's hand (He would be lying if he said wasn’t ready to jump in when he saw you). You stood up from his hand.

"Sorry, you okey?" Zoro asked you, letting go.

"Yeah, but remember the rules" You said, and through out the game you won because he would shot the ball at the wrong hoop, Mihawk counted.

You stood aside to see Mihawk and Zoro training, while Perona flew next to you.

"You should be training too" You said turning to her with your arms crossed.

"Me? I don't need training!" Perona responded.

"You only use your devil-fruit, your ghost can't even affect Mihawk, even if he didn't attack you, what if he did? Or someone who had the same ability as him? Your power would be useless" You said.

Perona tries to use her ghost against you as. Petty attempt to prove you wrong, to which it didn't work. The ghost couldn't pass you, it was like a barrier only annoyingly surrounding you, to which you shush away.

"We start training tomorrow morning" You said walking away.

You discovered that Perona likes volleyball and a bit of tennis and cricket, she didn't like exercise a lot, so doing you made her a small routine to follow at least for 2 to 3 days a week max. 

You also had to always make sure to never put Zoro and Perona together playing sports because they either start fighting or do something stupid, either way fighting was always in the middle of it.

Maybe trying to do a You and Mihawk team up vs Zoro and Perona was a bad idea, and changing it to Mihawk and Perona vs You and Zoro was a better idea, nonetheless the fighting still happen regardless what team they were.

~~~

Just as much as training became a big thing so did eating. Again food was a thing you needed to make sure was enough, but also enough for you to bake things outside of your daily basis and snacks too.

Long time ago you learn how to make this protein powder, as you grew up to were able to create a different versions of it and mastering on the making of a protein shake. You would give one of these to Mihawk once in a while, but now that the new guest.

You took Zoro to the kitchen, showing the powder and how you turned to protein shake.

"You know eating well would help you just as much as training" You said putting the shake in front of him.

He looked at it and questioning it.

"Don't look at it like that, try it" You said, and Zoro took a sip, immediately liking it.

"This is actually good, how do you make it?" Zoro asked.

"Are you interested of having more? I make this for me and my lover.." You stop talking because Zoro looked at you weird.

"Don't start. Anyway, I can teach you how to make the powder and turn it into a protein, this can help you to maintain a healthy body, I can even teach you how to do different flavors" You said, at first annoyed, but letting it slide as you talk to him.

"Amazing" Zoro kept drinking it.

"I think I had like to try more of this often, you got the receptive?" Zoro asked.

"Of course, you think you had be able to do it?" You asked, very skeptical.

"No, my crew has a cook" Zoro said, relieving you knowing now that he would

"Your crew? You never talk about them much other than your captain" You pointed out, remembering a few times he had talked about him and how Mihawk had suspicious he put his pride aside for his captain.

"You know mentioning my captain he would love drinking this too. The cook and I.. don't get along, but I doubt he will refuse to make it, especially if I get Luffy to try it" Zoro said, you listened.

"I'm glad, I hope they like it as much as you do, i thought it would be very sweet for you. You have almost the same taste as Mihawk, not too sweet" You pointed out.

"No, it's the perfect like this" He reassure you.

Perona enters the kitchen, your judgment looking for a snack to eat.

"Just in time. Perona I made you something for you" You said, putting the protein shake in front of her.

"Huh? What is this?" She flew over to look at it, her drink was pink very different from the one Zoro was drinking.

"Try it, it's strawberry flavor" You said. Perona looked at Zoro seeing how he was enjoying his.

Perona tries it, and her expression show how much she liked it. Later on she had a bagel you made, also protein based.

"Love, I made you something" You said coming in to the living room where Mihawk had a book that you had brought him form your trip.

"I saw the other two with the protein shakes you made, they seem to like it" Mihawh said.

"They did, I made your favorite too, would you like a bagel too? I made sure it doesn't jelly on it" you asked him, putting the shake in front of him.

"Not now, i'm not hungry" Mihawk said looking at it, you nodded and kissed his cheek leaving the room to give him some space alone to read his book.

[always-andromeda]

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Marcus Pike x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 370

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | First and foremost!! This moodboard + drabble were created for @evolnoomym's first birthday bash!! I'm still trying to find my footing in this community so thank you for always being so kind to me!! Second of all, as I've delved deeper into my art degree, my feelings around how I create on this blog has evolved. As such, I'm changing some of my practices too. Most of us know how aesthetic images are heavily laundered on Pinterest. I've never been a fan of it. From now on, I'm going to try and source more images from commercially available stock sites and include credits for them as well as more info on the programs and fonts used in my edits. This information will be found at the very end of my fics!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | pure fluff (regardless, I am not comfortable with minors interacting with my blog, period), no reader description given aside from being able-bodied, nothing else I can think of!!

Mornings had never particularly appealed to you until Marcus came into your life. Dating a federal agent with a busy schedule made you an early bird; eager to catch the metaphorical worm that was quality time with your boyfriend. There’s a quiet rhythm to the routine that blooms. 

Marcus brews a fresh pot of coffee. He pulls out the flavored creamer he bought just for you and prepares your cup just the way you like it. The sound of you showering and getting ready for the day serves as his daylist.

From the moment you step out of the bathroom his lips are trailing kisses on your shoulders.

“You smell nice,” he compliments softly. With his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck he continues to wonder aloud about his case for the day. His breath paired with his facial hair leave goosebumps on your skin. Without caffeine in your system, he’s the only explanation for the buzz that gradually builds in your bones.

It’s easy to imagine years filled with these moments. Your body pressed against the marble countertop, Marcus’s big arms wrapped around you, warm mug of coffee in your hands, and slivers of sunlight sneaking over your figures.

The city hums to life just outside his apartment. A persistently chirping bird snaps you from the reverie of his lips.

You say, “You’re going to be late.”

“Watch the sunrise with me,” he mumbles.

“Marcus…”

“Please?”

You don’t answer with words. You lean into his chest with a low hum. Gazing towards the window, you find a wash of golden light beginning to bathe the room. The sun creeps above the city skyline, bringing the clouds to life with a rose colored hue. Just above those clouds lays the blue sky; an expanse of infinite possibilities that not even the haze of the city can mask.

You practically hear Marcus’s smile when he rasps, “Still only half as pretty as you.”

“Easy, tiger,” you snort. “Drink your coffee.”

With that, Marcus pulls away to retrieve his own mug. You taste his black coffee when he kisses you goodbye. Strong, but smooth and dreamy on your tongue long after you both part ways, ready to start the day.

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 | Inés Álvarez Fdez, Amid Hasan Emon

𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 | @strangergraphics

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 | Canva

𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 | Sloop Script Pro, Montserrat

[cherrynwinesk]

Not really a fic but any headcanons with this idea? Reader is a big streamer so quackity asked them to join the qsmp server, they kinda talked earlier so they know about each others existence but it's not like they were ever friends. How would quackity act after he started to develop a crush on reader??

🍒:It's very long, sorry

Quackity Headcanon's

Added to QSMP

Story g: sfw

Language: English/Inglés

⚠️: None

CC's: Quackity

Reader g: Neutral reader

📝: All the content is fictitious and an attempt is made to adapt the PUBLIC personality of the cc's, that is, the personality that is shown in front of cameras, I do not know the true personality and any resemblance to reality is mere coincidence.

🍒: Hello, writing requests are always open, if you want something in particular, ask without fear. I clarify that English is not my main language, I apologize for any error and accept corrections to improve the quality of the content

Master List

•The invitation to be part of the QSMP would arrive in your business email

•You would be so busy streaming, editing some videos for YouTube that you hadn't even noticed that email

•Your manager would notify you of this

•You had heard about the server, even watched some clips on tiktok, but you didn't know what the main function was or what it was about, you only knew that Quackity was the owner

•You came to feel confused, you had never had contact with Quackity, you had never spoken, you had never met at any event, so why would he invite a stranger to his precious project?

•You had friends in common, but fate had never brought you together

•You thought about the invitation, since you had many things to do, including creating your plan for the entire week's content on stream and organizing your schedules to be able to edit

•So stay at the highest level where you have always been among the biggest creators in the world

•But you didn't have many ideas currently, so you considered the invitation

•Quackity himself would immediately contact you

•You would like to plan everything directly with the server members so that there are no misunderstandings

•Both would schedule a call on Discord, trying to coincide with your free time

•There was not much communication between you until the day you agreed

•Nothing out of the ordinary, he would explain to you about the project, the creators who are already on the server, he would talk a little about the lore that some members already have

•It sounded very interesting by the way.

•You both got along very well, you were able to communicate easily and there were no problems in your first time interacting

•Agreed on a date on which you will join the server

•The day you would be announced as a member of QSMP Quackity would do his routine stream in Spanish playing a little time with Roier, Ironmouse, Forever or someone

•Then he would raid his main channel and in it he would talk about how he was excited for this new member, since you are a global content creator, and that it meant a lot to have you on his server (being humble)

•Immediately you were announced as part of QSMP, Twitter exploded

•Your name and Quackity being a trend, and it was all because no one expected this good news

•The next day you entered the server for the first time and started with the basics by playing Minecraft, wood, sticks, pickaxe, killing cows

•You immediately made a good relationship with the other members, it was such a relaxed atmosphere

•You have never laughed so much in your life

•Even outside the server that friendship continued

•But you were closer with Quackity

•You two had a humor that complemented each other

•There was no fear of saying something wrong, you could be yourself

•You might not think anything strange, for you it would just be a good friendship like with any other member

•But actually for Quackity it was a little different

•At first Quackity was a little excited that you would agree to be on his server

•First of all cause you are a big cc

•Quackity saw your content a few times, and knew that your personality would fit perfectly into QSMP

•From the beginning he liked the way you stayed active in your streams, never stopping talking, interacting with your chat even though your community was so big

•He even wanted to learn a little about you, because he knew that everything you were and had you got fairly

•You deserved everything you had and he even admired you too much

•He was so nervous about talking to you, doing something wrong or that something in the project wouldn't interest you, since he hadn't even hoped that you would accept the invitation

•Now that you were closer, Quackity started to feel different around you.

•He started to like you, but he still doesn't accept it

•At first he would think that he just likes you too much.

•But the day his sister asked him "Do you like y/n?"

•He'd notice and he'd be like "No, why do you ask that? He/she's my friend."

•Most likely, his sister had to hear about what happened inside QSMP, but you being the one he always mentions, that's why she would come to such a conclusion.

•Besides, Quackity would act very excited when it comes to you.

•"Your eyes shine when you talk about y/n" and his cheeks would be red.

•And Quackity would feel so comfortable with you

•He would really like your personality and that would be what made him fall in love.

•Also the way you bring out his true personality without fear

•Once he realized that if he actually liked you he would start to feel nervous around you.

•He would also go watch your streams while he is busy

•Over time he would also like you physically and too much

•Inside him maybe he would have this obsessive crush on you, but he doesn't want to show it.

•He would worry that you had a partner or that he wasn't your type

•More people around him would realize that he is in love and would convince him to tell you what he feels.

•He would refuse for a long time with the excuse that he is married to his job

•His friends would do him the favor (without Quackity asking) of asking you personal things

•Like if you have a partner, what kind of people do you like for a relationship, being very obvious (maybe Roier who doesn't care about anything or Baghera but she would be more subtle with the questions)

•Quackity would travel to meet you irl

•Once you were together he would try to show interest with subtle compliments

•Like saying you're smart

•Or talk about your hair color and mention that he like people with that color

•You would definitely understand and ask him if he is flirting with you

•He would get very nervous but he knows you got him

•"It's very obvious?"

•"Don't worry Quackity, Roier and Cellbit already told me everything"

[silcodependent]

Sway Chapter 7

Silco x Fem!Reader

4.2k words- Mature (but not explicit) 

Warnings: Light BDSM Vibes, Smoke Play, Suggestive Everything

Additional warning: I have doubted my ability to write so much lately that I was convinced that this would never see the light of day. It's mostly unedited but please know that If if had edited it would have stayed in the drafts folder for the rest of time. I want to tell this story, I know exactly where it's going and I'm excited but sometimes I wonder if I am capable of telling it well. So I'm putting this out here to keep me from waiting until it's perfect and posting nothing. I hope you like it and that there are other people who are still as obsessed with this little rat mat as I am.

Silco was bad for business. You knew this from the start but your small number of interactions relentlessly reminded you of this information. Last night was tantalizingly fun. Your dreams after caused you to uproot your whole routine and bumping into him during your practice time was now causing you to be late. The man was infuriating. Infuriating and dangerous.

He simply cannot be forgiven for the agony of inconveniences he is responsible for.

That thought was fresh on your mind when you tossed open your dressing room door to find a surprise that stopped you in your tracks; A single red rose with a black ribbon tied around it and a note.

You should be used to gifts from adoring fans but you always found surprises to be an eerie sign of something grim to come. This was no exception.

Placing your bag down on the opposite side of the counter you inspected the gift before you with learned skepticism, tentatively picking up the note and turning it over in your hand. It was addressed to you, your name scrawled beautifully in ink from a fountain over heavy weighted stationary. Expensive. 

You had been here before. It was enough to make you want to drop the note there with no regard to whatever message lay inside and pack your things as fast as you could.

But you weren’t running. You never ran. That was half of your problem. And even though there were things in your past that wanted to chase you, the likelihood of them finding you here was so small it was next to impossible. Right?

Beating back any other intrusive thoughts, you flipped open the card to reveal a single sentence.

“Thank you for the lovely performance. -Silco”

You stared at the letter in your hand in stunned disbelief for what would have been all night if Remy knocking at the door hadn’t pulled you back to reality.

“Good crowd tonight!” He exclaimed, poking his head through the crack in the door.

Remy’s eyes landed first on the note in your hand and then on the rose on the counter.

“What’s that?” 

“It’s nothing…Just a thank you note.” You’re certain that no one would fall for that performance but it didn’t stop you from trying. You placed the note back down on the counter and proceeded to get ready with haste. Silco was distracting you--again.

“Admirers already. I just wonder what took them this long.” Remy flashed that heart winning grin before disappearing back out the way he came but not before shouting back…

“Tonight’s going to be a great show!”

Remy was wonderful. He really was. Kind, supportive, friendly and he didn’t linger. Who could ask for anything more?

And you had a feeling he was right.

Once your first costume was on and makeup perfectly done, you picked up the rose and reveled in its sweet scent. Of the many stalls lining the streets of the Undercity you had never seen any flowers. Your fingers pulled the silk ribbon from its stem and tied it carefully around your neck. This choker was the perfect finishing touch to such an ensemble. 

Tonight was going to be a great show.

And it was - regardless of how your eyes searched the audience for a particular face each number, never finding it. 

The audience loved every moment. You even managed to create a new group of regulars out of a rowdy table of gentlemen that had posted up in the front row. Your crowd working skills were now rivaling your dancing and it certainly kept things fresh. But once the curtain fell you couldn’t help but let out a little sigh of disappointment. There was no denying that when you had strung that ribbon across your neck, you’d hope to share in a silent understanding. A small nod to your own Phantom that no one else who saw it would even notice. 

It had been a small thing, a silly thing but a mistake nonetheless and one you weren’t willing to repeat. Just another piece of evidence that Silco was distracting and eliciting sentiments that were out of bounds for how you lived your life. This pang of disappointment would serve as a perfect reminder of why you kept these rules in the first place. No investments.

And it did. Days turned to weeks and there was no sign of the infamous Eye of Zaun in the club or in your dreams. He was much harder to banish from your waking thoughts as his note still sat on the counter of your dressing room, but his absence aided you in that regard as well. You had stopped looking for his handsome features in the crowd all together. Life continued. You channeled your energy and debuted a new show with aplomb that had the audience on their feet night after night. It’s amazing what you could accomplish without any unnecessary distractions.

Your focus was at an all time high but that came with some…troubling observations. Silco’s people still came in without him but there was tension growing between them and your front row regulars, a group of three brothers. It was odd. Silco’s operation seemed to be far too big to take issue with these three nobody’s but you had noticed their minute changes in clothing and demeanor over the last couple weeks. They were certainly spending more and more money in the club each night as well. You knew that meant the heart of this dispute had to be business but the less you knew the better. It had already gotten so bad that Remy almost had to call security over a disagreement between the two groups. Things were escalating. 

Remy made every effort to work with them, keep things civil and make sure everyone was welcome here but enforced peace can only last for so long.

It was a slow night Monday night at the Sweet. You had come to show some face and perhaps try out a couple of new combinations on stage with the victrola as accompaniment. It didn’t surprise you at all to see Nox Kane, the youngest of the Kane brothers, occupying his usual table beside the stage. He was already past tipsy and barreling towards drunk with every passing moment. 

Each of the Kane brothers seemed to fancy you in their own way but Nox was the least subtle. All passion and impulse, no restraint--he was a bit of a live wire and often the source of much of the trouble between the two ‘gangs’. But after spending more than one evening talking with him in the club you saw that beneath his raw edges he was sweet, ambitious, devoted to his family, and committed to living life to the fullest. Young without a doubt, and his eldest brother intended to keep it that way. 

Gabriel, the eldest, had grown up working in the mines and was determined to save either of his brothers from such a fate, pushing them into factory work or anything else that kept them out of the fissures. He had opened to you about it once when he had first started coming to the club. The two of you polished off several bottles of champagne without any trouble and completely lost track of time laughing together as the club went from crowded to nearly empty. He told you about his brother’s and how he wanted to make sure that they never had to struggle to survive like he had in the early days. He also mentioned in vague terms that he was onto something now that would make it so none of them would have to go back to the factories, let alone the mines. That they would finally be given the better life he had always hoped and worked for. Gabriel’s green eyes were a light that night with the promise of the future. A future you were sure would have had a spot in it for you had you chosen to pursue it. His hand, warm and callused, had reached for yours that night, exposing the tattoos on his forearms, maps that detailed places he dreamed of going. You traced the letters of the city you fled lightly with your fingers down the veins of his arm, noticing how much more appealing they looked on his skin. He had eyed you so tenderly that night that the memory of it was surreal even now.

In the last city you lived in, someone like Gabriel would have left a trail of broken hearts longer than the Piltover bridge. Life here seemed crueler to its people but you suspected that someone as alluring as he was didn’t stay lonesome too long. Whether his stories and smiles were intended to cast a spell for the night or for longer you never found out. Gabriel kissed your hand as you parted that night and never pressed the issue again, but eagerly brought his brothers back every week since.

And like that, the Kane brothers were front and center for every performance. You always made it a point to spend time at their table after each show, so it was easy to notice the evolution. It had started humbly, a shirt that looked so new it could still have tags on it, then the pants to match, but over time there had been a shift in tone. Where there had been new clothes, simple and not thoroughly threadbare, now there were flashy new ensembles, jackets, hats, and jewelry. The bar tab seemed to grow each time they were in too and Nox was in every night.

Spared the hardships Gabriel had described, Nox was prone to enthusiasm, impetuousness, and excess, and tonight was no exception. So far he had asked you to marry him on twelve separate occasions, with a glance at his current state you sensed unlucky number 13 was mere moments away. Without Lucas and Gabriel to reign him in you wondered just how far this little display would go.

Before you had a chance to approach Nox, a loud BANG of Remy’s office door swinging into the wall with more force than you had ever seen froze you in your tracks. 

“Gabriel-!” Remy shouted as you saw Gabriel emerge, jaw set and tense, from Remy’s office. 

Remy called after him again but Gabriel ignored him, making a B-line to his brother and roughly pulling Nox to his feet before practically dragging him away. Gabreil brushed by you in his pursuit to the exit like you weren’t even there, his eyes empty and cold, so unlike the evening you had spent in his company. So unlike him. Nox’s hands reached from you but found no purchase as he was hauled away without so much as a word, Remy still calling after them. At least that was one problem you didn’t have to deal with tonight.

The exterior door slammed closed and they were gone, an uneasy silence stilling hanging in their wake.

You couldn’t help but stare at the scene before you, your mouth comically open in complete confusion at what you had seen. Remy hated to break the atmosphere of the club, hell--hated to raise his voice unless it was over the roar of the crowd. Something was wrong.

More movement caught your eye, as you quickly turned to spot another tall figure emerge from Remy’s office. It was Silco.

He stood in the doorway and looked disinterestedly after where Gabriel had made his exit. Remy let out a heavy sigh of exasperation, running his hands through his hair. His nervous tick.  

Remy disappeared back into his office with Silco for a brief moment. You could hear hurried exchanging of words, voices tinged with distress, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then you noticed the unmistakably cool even tones of Silco, filling in the gaps of your mental picture. A moment later they both exited Remy’s office, Silco with a nearly empty glass and Remy with his keys. He proceeded to lock the door behind him and hastily out the exit after Gabriel.

Whatever peace meeting this had been had gone poorly.

You couldn’t pull your eyes off of Silco and it wasn’t long until he noticed, his bicolored eyes locking with yours sent a jolt of electricity through your body but you didn’t look away. It wasn’t long until he took a seat in one of the back booths and you retrieved a bottle of bourbon to join him.

“Do you cause trouble everywhere you go or are we special?” You asked, brandishing the bottle of liquor in a bid for an invitation to sit. 

Silco flashed a sardonic smile in response to your words, but nodded toward the empty seat opposite of him anyway as he reached into his inside coat pocket for something you couldn’t see. Hopefully not a gun. That was a terrible joke to be shot over. 

“Rough night?” You asked in a hurry to distract him from your last comment as you uncorked the bottle and poured you both two fingers of the amber alcohol.

“You could say that.” He said, placing a silver cigarette case down on the table before returning his hands to his coat to find it’s companion; the lighter. “You keep the most interesting company.”

You knew he was referring to the Kane brothers, specifically Gabriel. But this was business and that was something you left to Remy. Keeping out of business is one of the things that made you successful in this industry. Behind the scenes Remy and you worked together to keep things running like a well oiled machine, but when it came to the ins and outs of client disputes, you kept to the safety of your rules of ignorance and neutrality.

“Not really.” You responded blandly. “I haven’t had any interesting company here in weeks.” Your eyes lingered heavily on him with the weight of your insinuation. 

The corner of Silco’s lips twitched upwards, “I’ve been busy.”

“Clearly.”

Your eyes wandered back towards the door, patiently waiting for Remy to stroll in, the picture of cool confidence. But the door remained closed. 

 A sharp sound pulled your attention back to the present. Silco was holding a lighter to the end of a cigarette, his eyes freezing on you.

“Care to join me?” He asked around an inhale before exhaling the smoke above him and leaning back into the velvet of the booth. He really was a sight.

“Remy doesn’t like smoking in here.”

“Well, fortunately Remy’s not here.” Silco lifted the sleek elegant case in your direction. An offering. An invitation. 

“I’m the reason he doesn’t like it.”

This surprised Silco, he raises a curious eyebrow at you for further explanation.

“I quit a year ago. He doesn’t want me to be tempted back down that road.” Although he was making that rather difficult. If cigarettes always looked this good you would never have quit. Even the way Silco held his cigarette was refined, he was like every suave black and white movie you’d ever watched but there was something not quite right about the image. Something about it was out of place and spoiled it, something subtle but what?

Silco Indulged in another deep inhale staring lazily at the ceiling and you couldn’t help but watch as the svelt muscles in his neck moved around the smoke, fascinated by what must be happening below the knot of his tie.

“And how are you with temptation?”

Your eyes widened and you averted them into your glass as quickly as you could. If the pause wasn’t telling enough, you were sure your grip on the glass would be. 

“Well?”

Your eyes darted up to see the cigarette case, open now, in his hand again and a wave of relief fell over your body.

He was talking about the cigarettes. Wasn't he?

“Terrible.” You made no move to accept his offer. Silco’s eyes studied you, your words contrasting your actions. 

With little effort he blew his smoke across the table, meeting the skin of your face in soft swirling spirals that only aided in the clouding of your judgment. It was impossible not to drink in. Not to allow yourself this one small enjoyment from the buffet of poisonous delights. And he knew it.

The smirk lingering on his lips was just as irresistible. 

“I’ve always found a little indulgence now and then to be helpful to my mind.” Silco extended the offer of his own cigarette. And perhaps it was the nicotine that was causing your head to spin or the company but such delicious indulgence had to be tasted.

Your fingers lightly traced his as you turned his palm to face you and lowered my your lips to take a drag from the cigarette in between his fingers. It was dizzying and delicious indeed. Taking in the last of the inhale, you glanced up at him through your lashes to only find his eyes locked on you with a burning intensity. 

Releasing the cigarette from your lips, you allowed smoke to dribble out of you mouth before releasing it fully as you relaxed into the comfort of the cushions on the back of your seat. Silco stared openly, almost hungrily as you took your enjoyment and relaxation; eyes working over your mouth, your neck, your clavicle, your chest, then further down the rest of your body.

“Like my dress?” I asked, a wicked smile forming on your lips.

“You call that a dress?” 

He had a point. This dress was nude and intentionally tantalizing, covering the most interesting parts in sparkling crystals meant to allure equally as much as it obscured.

“What would you call it?”

“A trap.” 

You chuckled, reaching your hand out to his for another drag of his cigarette as he continued to study you. Silco was a mystery and there was no telling how far this game of cat and mouse would go. Your exhale came with more force this time, blowing smoke past his sharp features before offering the cigarette back. Silcos hand reached for your but instead of the cigarette you found his fingers firmly wrapped around your wrist. There was little doubt he noticed the small jolt of surprise he sent up your spine but he didn’t comment. Instead, he turned your wrist towards him and lowered his head to take a drag from your hand, exhaling his smoke inches from your face.  A perfect imitation. No, much better.

Smoke washed over your face and clouded your mind and your senses until there was only this. Only him. Pinned both literally and figuratively to spot he wanted. His instruction was clear as he held your wrist still and removed the cigarette from your hand, raising it to your lips. The fire behind his dual colored eyes was truly mesmerizing.  You held his gaze as you lowered your lips to enjoy another drag from his cigarette in sweet surrender.

“Good girl.”

Your eyes locked, breath hitching in your chest.

Danger. There was that neon sign again saying to run. --And it wasn’t the only thing turned on.

Silco is bad for business. Bad…so bad…

But it was impossible to deny the thrill that ran through you at the sound of his words. And if the sly gleam in his eyes was any indication, he knew it too.

The smoke exhaled slowly between your lips, your last tease as it swirled into the space between us. Neither of you able to look away. 

He raised the cigarette to his lips again, revealing the tail of a scar that traced its way up the left side of his face to join the others around his treacherous eye. Its glow nearly matching that of the cigarette in his hand. 

What happened to him?

No sooner had the thought occurred than it was chased away by the loud crashing of the front door into the wall of the club. It was Nox, even more intoxicated than last you’d seen him. He spoke loud and lively as he walked through the entryway, one arm heavy over Remy’s shoulder who seemed exasperated by the evening and the company. Truly a feat for someone so agreeable. One that immediately raised your concerns.

Silco was eyeing the same situation with a precise intensity that was impossible to describe or ignore. That same danger that had drawn you in earlier had sharpened somehow. That’s when it hit you: Silco was a knife. A dagger. A blade. 

He kept himself sheathed politely in most scenarios but there was no doubt about what was under the surface. You could draw it to butter your bread or slit a person's throat but the danger was there all the same. He was not soft or warm. He was sharp, cool, precise, and deadly.

Suddenly it gave you pause to interrupt whatever dark calculations he was making. 

“I probably should relieve Remy of Nox duty” You offered lightheartedly.

Slico cast that sharp look at you briefly before returning to watch Remy wiggle out from under Nox’s weight as he placed him gently into a barstool.

“Be careful with that one.”  Silco’s warning was just above a whisper and he didn’t even spare you a look as he said it. His attention was entirely focused on Nox.

“Nox is harmless” you chuckled. But the lingering look from Silco was starting to give you second thoughts. 

“We all start that way.” Silco muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. What was it that he saw in Nox that you didn’t? The question alone sent a shiver down your spine. Did you even want to know the answer?

Before you realized it Silco had gotten up from the booth and stood at the edge of the table, still watching Nox as he harassed the last bartender on duty for another drink. 

Your fingers involuntarily gripped the velvet cushions beneath you. Was this it?

God, please, not now. You thought so loudly you were afraid you’d accidentally said the words out loud. Another conflict might actually break Remy and you certainly weren't ready to see the kind of damage Silco could inflict that had earned him such a fearsome reputation. 

You released a shuddering breath into the still air, heavy with the weight of your fear/expectation. Silco turned to you, relieving your worry and composing his features back into the perfect gentleman you knew him as.  His long slender hand reached for his whiskey and took the remainder of his drink in one go before turning back to you.

“Thank you for providing a respite from the rest of this night.” He said in low tones that only the two of you could hear as he lifted your hand to his lips.

The warmth that started in your chest spread slowly to your cheeks with a gentle blush, then to the soft smile of your lips and finally down through your core to pool in between your legs. 

“But unfortunately I cannot put off my business any longer.”

You were sure Nox was safe tonight, that Silco would leave and busy himself with other concerns. But it was the leaving part that you found harder to grapple with, even if no one knew. He’d been gone so much recently, your time together seemed to be slipping through your fingers.

“So you say.” you sighed.

“Perhaps it’s my company that’s not interesting enough for you.”

Silco’s eyes narrowed at your remark. In a flash// with out warning, his grip on your hand changed, suddenly pulling you out of your seat and into him. A startled gasp escaped your lips as your chest collided with his. Long fingers slid skillfully over your hip and along your lower back. His other hand still held your wrist firmly. Provocatively. Both a statement of control and a dare for you to defy it. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you miss me, Ms. Sweet '' Silco whispered in a near purr, his nose pressing against the shell of your ear. Silco sent chills throughout your body that rivaled surgical precision. You couldn’t see his face, but there was an aire of arrogance about the way he held you that said he knew.

“Perhaps” You melted into him, making no moves to resist him. Your fight lay in another vein.

“But I’m not sure I can remember why anymore.”

His grip on you relaxed and you withdrew, it seemed as good of time as any to make your exit. Always better to leave with the last word. It wasn’t until you had turned your back that you felt his dark presence on you again.

“Are you asking for a reminder?” He punctuated his question with the press of his body against yours. His front to your back, with an unmistakable stiffness. That felt like a win.

“I’d hate to distract you from your work. It sounds very important.” You struggled to keep the sound of your smile out of your voice. Silco’s fingers were caressing your hip, almost as though he was debating something.

Without warning a loud BANG cut through the thick atmosphere of the club, stealing your attention away from Silco’s touch. That damn door again. A long line of fresh Academy recruits staggered their way to the bar with slurred celebration on their lips. 

“Unusual crowd tonight.” You commented into the empty air beside you. Silco was gone.

[mintsbubbletea]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 - 𝐒𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Word Count: 1,173

Contains: Gender Neutral Reader,blood, ptsd,nude drawings, mentions of male private parts

Proof Read and Edited

Quirk user has a drawing tablet and stencil, can attatch to clothes or body parts. Can draw anything in the tablet and it will come to life, can be aniamls, weapons, items , anything as long as they can draw it.

You left your dorm room, clutching your sketchbook and a handful of pencils, in search of a peaceful spot to let your creativity flow. Weekends were your favorite time to draw and be alone with your thoughts. Although drawing was your quirk, you preferred it when it was freestyle and not too intense.

Exiting the elevator, you adjusted your hoodie and entered the lounge area. A few of your classmates were already there, the early birds who enjoyed waking up early. Momo greeted you "Morning Y/n," turning towards you as she waited for her tea to boil. You waved back, your mouth occupied with pencils, while your other hand held two bags of chips.

Taking a seat at the table, you placed your belongings down and let out a sigh. The lounge room was unusually quiet, especially for this time of day. Glancing around, you noticed the same five people who were always up at this hour - Iida, Todoroki, Koda, Tokoyami, and of course, Momo. Pulling your knee up to your chest, you immediately began sketching.

After a short while of doing your own thing, Momo placed a cup of tea in front of you, being careful not to disturb your drawings. You glanced up and couldn't help but smile at the girl beside you. "Peppermint?" you asked, bringing the cup to your nose and taking a whiff. "Y/n, I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't know your preferred flavor."

Recognizing the familiar scent, you took a sip eagerly. Closing your eyes, you savored the taste that brought back fond memories. Peppermint tea would always hold a special place in your heart. When you were around 7 years old, you and your parents would often sit on the couch, sipping peppermint tea on chilly days, snuggled up under cozy blankets, enjoying each other's company. This became a cherished routine until you turned 10, when things suddenly changed. Your parents grew distant, speaking formally and giving short responses. They only seemed to care about work, and one day, you woke up to find them gone. Returning home, the house remained empty. Since then, your family had never been the same, communicating in robotic, formal answers. Now, you struggled with any noise, as you had grown accustomed to silence.

Passing Momo one of your chips, you both sat there in comfortable silence. Unfortunately, your peace was soon interrupted as the rest of 1-A began to arrive for breakfast or their usual activities. Mentally sighing, you knew your tranquility was about to be shattered. "Here," Momo spoke up, offering a solution. You looked up and saw her creating earplugs from her chest. At this point, you were used to her quirks, so you didn't bother acting flustered. Swiftly, you grabbed the earplugs and inserted them into your ears, effectively blocking out most of the noise.

You did your best to ignore the rowdy bunch, but Bakugo's loud yelling and the rest of them talking loudly made it impossible. The noise was overwhelming, and you could feel the frustration building up inside you. Quickly, you packed up and stood up, giving a smile to Momo before hurrying away from the group.

"Y/n always leaves when we get here. Is it because we smell?" Denki asked, raising his arms to smell his armpits. Kirishima smacked the back of his head. "Don't be weird, bro," he said with disgust.

"It's because they have sensitive ears," Momo spoke up on your behalf. "We've been classmates for months now, you should at least know that much about them." Momo walked towards them, a smirk on her face. "Plus, you guys are just too loud. You're even making me leave." She walked towards the exit, munching on her chips.

"That's not our fault, Y/n barely responds when we try to talk to them," Denki mumbled, crossing his arms. "Even I knew that," Todoroki spoke up from behind them. Sero turned to face him. "Did Y/n tell you?" he asked. Todoroki shook his head. "No, but their body language did. They would cover their ears whenever you guys come in or when it gets too loud for them. And today, Momo even gave them earplugs." He spoke with ease. "As aspiring pros, we should know how to observe people," he added, his voice tinged with a hint of monotone.

-

The next day, you left your dorm and headed towards the lounge area to meet up with Momo, just like you did every weekend. You had your sketchbooks and pencils in hand, ready to spend some quality time together. Usually, everything was the same - you would sit down, the usual five people would be there, Momo would make you tea, and you would share your chips. But today was different.

As you started drawing, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Denki, Sero, and Kirishima standing there, with Bakugo a little further away. "Hey Y/n," Sero spoke up. You smiled softly and greeted them. "Hello. Is something wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"No, we just wanted to talk to you since we never really do," Denki replied, before noticing your sketchbook. "Wow, Y/n! I knew you liked drawing and it's part of your quirk, but I never knew you were this good," Kirishima exclaimed as he sat next to you, peering over your shoulder at your drawing. "You drew Momo so well. It looks incredibly realistic," he said in awe.

One thing you loved about drawing was capturing people's details and making them look realistic, as if someone had taken a photograph. "Thank you, Kirishima," you said gratefully, as the rest of the boys gathered behind to admire your work.

But then, in an instant, Denki snatched your sketchbook and started flipping through the pages. Panic washed over you, as you had some personal drawings in there. "Please don't look-" you pleaded, but it was too late.

"Whoa, they drew all of us!" Denki exclaimed, showing the group. "Denki, Y/n said not to look through them," Momo tried to intervene, attempting to retrieve the book. "I know, but these drawings are just too good!"

"Denki-" Sero began, but more of your classmates started to gather around, curious about the commotion. You sat there, feeling helpless as they spoke over you, not listening to your pleas. Denki continued to show the class your drawings, flipping through the pages as everyone spoke loudly.

Todoroki's voice broke the silence, "Denki, can't you see Y/n doesn't want you looking?" You kept your gaze fixed on your hands, avoiding eye contact with anyone, as the noise around you became increasingly unbearable. Suddenly, your attention was drawn to Denki, who exclaimed, "Look, Todoroki! They drew a picture of you!" Your face drained of color as you realized what the next few pages held, and you vowed to keep them hidden from everyone. Denki turned the book towards Todoroki, revealing yet another drawing of him.

"Please, stop," you softly pleaded, covering your ears. Mineta questioned, "Why are there so many drawings of Todoroki?" Todoroki chimed in, "We shouldn't be looking." With each page flip, more drawings of the heterochromia boy emerged, some of them quite spicy, causing chaos to erupt. Todoroki fell silent, his face displayed on every page of the book. As more people spoke, the ringing in your ears intensified. You removed your hands from your ears, only to feel something wet. "Y/n, your ears are bleeding," Momo gasped, capturing everyone's attention. Jiro, who could relate to the situation, offered, "Let me see." She examined your ear and grabbed a napkin to clean it up. Overwhelmed, you stood up, tears welling in your eyes. "I told you to stop!" you yelled, wincing in pain. "Didn't I tell you to stop?" Your voice resonated louder than anyone had ever heard before. The room fell silent, mouths agape, in response to your sudden outburst.

You found yourself unable to form any other words, so you turned away and made your way towards the elevator, heading back to your room. Once you were safely inside your dorm, all the anger you had been holding in came pouring out. Tears streamed down your face as your sobs grew louder. You had never felt so embarrassed in your life. You laid down on your bed, facing away from the door. After a few minutes, there was a soft knock. "Come in," you sniffled, wiping away your tears. You turned to face Momo, but to your surprise, it wasn't your best friend standing in your room. "Oh. I thought you were Momo," you spoke gently, looking down at your leg as your feet dangled from the bed.

"I'm probably one of the last people you want to see right now," he said before moving closer to where you were sitting. "Can I clean up your ear?" Todoroki asked. You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your eyes fixed on the floor. He gently pushed the stray strands of hair behind your ear as he grabbed an alcohol pad to clean up the dried blood in and around your ear. You winced slightly at the sudden action. "Sorry," he whispered softly. He finished cleaning and then taped a gauze pad on your ear, just in case it started bleeding again.

"You know," he began as he packed away the trash, "I actually enjoyed the drawings."

"You did?" you asked, feeling the embarrassment creeping back in. "Yeah, the way you captured my facial expressions turned out really well. Especially the one where I was naked," he chuckled, causing you to playfully push him. "Stop," you laughed. "No one was supposed to see them."

"I really like this one," he exclaimed, pulling your sketchbook out from behind his back. "The way the water drop is rolling down my abs onto my di-" You swiftly snatched the book and tossed it onto your pile of clothes on the floor. "That's enough of that, I'm already embarrassed," you blushed.

"Hmm," Todoroki pondered. "How about you draw me right now?"

"Right now?" you questioned. "Yeah, so you won't feel so flustered. And if you want, you can show the class a PG drawing of me," he chuckled. You nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Alright then, go get the book, my love,"

[zerocoded]

hi!! i’ve been following your work and i just want to say i admire you so much. not just for your writing style (which is chef’s kiss btw), but for how consistently you post without sacrificing quality. i’ve been trying to write more seriously, but i really struggle with finishing chapters or keeping a steady rhythm. every time i sit down to write, i either spiral about what’s “good enough” or get overwhelmed by how much i want the scene to do. how do you stay focused and keep yourself from burning out or over-editing? do you set a routine? or is there a mindset shift you’ve had to make about updating?

any advice would mean the world,, i just want to find joy in writing again without feeling like i’m always behind. I love your profile, you seem so sweet and i just checked you’re only 20 like wowww you’re a baby with so much talent!!

Hi angel!!! First of all, thank you so so much for this message. I swear I read it three times in a row with my hand over my mouth like… me?? For real?? 😭 You have no idea how much your words mean to me. This made my whole week, seriously. ++

And I get it. I really do. I’ve also been through long phases of writing burnout and perfectionism that completely paralyzed me. What helped me the most wasn’t exactly setting a strict routine, but shifting the way I looked at writing. Like, instead of thinking, “I have to finish this chapter today. I can’t do it. I should just give this up,” I try to remember what motivated me to start that story in the first place and be honest with myself: “Do I have time for this? Can I turn this into a one-shot, a drabble, or a smaller project?”

I know some people might not agree, but honestly — sometimes letting go of a project that’s draining you can be the best thing to make space for something new and better.

I’m not saying you should give up!!! I’m just saying you don’t have to feel guilty for not finishing something you created. You don’t owe anyone — and you owe yourself grace for at least starting it.

Also, I mentioned this a few days ago, but surrounding yourself with the story outside of writing is super important to keep the motivation alive. Moodboards, playlists, random headcanons, talking about the characters with friends — all of that counts and keeps the world breathing even when you’re not actively writing.

Your joy matters more than your update schedule. Writing is supposed to be something for you first. The rest is just a bonus 💛

I really hope you find your rhythm again soon, and that it feels fun — not heavy. You’re not behind. Your pace is valid. And I’m cheering for you so much. Feel free to drop by anytime <3

Also: the “you’re a baby with so much talent!!” part made me laugh out loud. Thank you for that 😂💘

[hallowgracie]

Short Story: "Alternate Universe, Slow Burn"

Author's Note: The storyline for Starfall Sleuth developed when I was creating a fictional fandom for a short story about two young adults deep into fandom spaces (cosplay, edits, and fanfic) whose catalyst for realizing they've been in love with each other is that they're about to meet at a convention for their favorite fandom in-person.

I thought it might be fun to share that story, so we might learn where certain ideas came from--and what might have changed between the version of the story depicted in this short versus what suits my writing sensibilities.

...

Sonya didn’t even bother turning on the lights in her dorm. Instead, she toed off her shoes and headed to the rigid standard desk in the trance of a routine. She slung her backpack to the unswept floor and removed her most precious possession—the laptop gifted to her by her parents for her high school graduation. Stickers covered every inch of the laptop’s translucent turquoise shell, with little chibi characters on both sides of the mousepad. 

Sonya booted it up, revealing a desktop screen with a wallpaper set to a movie poster with those same characters in live action. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she entered in her password and pulled up Discord. 

Her breath hitched. This was it.  The message that had her soaring all the way home in anticipation. 

nightshadewisdom : just got to the hotel w Will and Sam and the others. The Phantom Thieves are here!

She pushed her circular golden glasses up her nose as she took in the words on the screen. So simple, so short—only seventeen words. Seventeen words that were the culmination of five years. 

agardenofstars : Glad to hear you got here safe. I totally thought with the rain there’d be a delay to the flight. 

There was no green light next to his profile icon, an anime depiction of the character with a domino mask, a top hat, and a great purple cloak with a rose broach fastening it. So Sonya clicked to open a tab—he’d be back online eventually. 

There were several new comments in her inbox at Archive Of Our Own, all on the latest chapter of her newest fanfic. That was distraction enough, to keep her from repeatedly checking Discord and refreshing in futility. 

playinghergame : I absolutely love it! This is the ending Seele and James should have gotten!! 

seele-is-queen : What is there to say? Ugh, I love the line about the pointlessness of self-sacrifice. That’s what the writers of season 4 deserve, having James die like that and Seele end up alone. 

the-okay-detective : Oh, that scene in the tower is so beautiful, and the art by nightshadewisdom is just gorgeous, as always. I love seeing what you two come up with for my favorite ship!

The last one had Sonya’s cheeks go warm as she found herself smiling. It was only on the last two or three stories that they’d collaborated like this, posting art meant to go directly with a totally planned-out story. 

She decided to respond to that one first. 

agardenofstars : @the-okay-deective, thank you so much! Yeah, I love nightshadewisdom’s work, when he showed me that, I had to actually rewrite the scene to do it more justice. I’m so glad that you love it, we always love seeing you in the comments

agardenofstars : @seele-is-queen The season 4 finale was such bullshit, I had to bite my thumb at it. Thanks for reading and reviewing, as always!

agardenofstars : @playinghergame Thanks! Seele x James forever!

As she finished the last response, the distinct chime of a new Discord message rang out. She clicked to see several new messages from Jay. 

nightshadewisdom : Yeah, I thought so too. But we’re here, getting our wigs and everything ready for tomorrow. 

nightshadewisdom : I hope the rain wasn’t too much trouble on your campus.

Sonya’s fingers flew across the board like she was sure her heart would, in a Snow White kind of way. 

agardenofstars : It wasn’t too bad, I live on campus, so it’s not like I ever had to walk long in the rain. Still, I hate when it gets all dark and gray like this, it’s so depressing.

agardenofstars : It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow, though, so at least your wigs won’t be in danger!

She added a little chibi winking face, styled after the character in his icon. 

nightshadewisdom : Maybe we should meet up for coffee or something before we go to the convention hall. 

nightshadewisdom : Know any good places?

agardenofstars : I mean, I guess there’s always the Starbucks on campus. But I’ve heard really good things about the coffee shop in the convention center. Might be worth waiting to check it out.

nightshadewisdom : That’s fair. I guess I was just hoping to see you sooner.

Sonya leaned back and frowned. What exactly did Jay mean by that? The phrasing was strangely sentimental, it had a feeling of almost. . .yearning to it? Then again, it was always hard to tell in the written word.

It was funny, she’d spent so long learning how to write all kinds of emotions though characters that meant everything to her. And yet she still could not discern the intentions of a stupid text message on Discord. 

agardenofstars : That’s fair. It is weird, isn’t it? We’ll see each other in person for the first time tomorrow. 

agardenofstars : You, Will, Sam, all of your friends. And yet I feel like we know each other so well already. 

nightshadewisdom : Because we do know each other so well. We’ve been talking like this for what, five years?

Sonya bit her lip and thought of the date circled on her calendar, one that she only noted three or so years ago, when the feeling of sentimentality hit her. 

agardenofstars : Yeah, five years. Pretty close to today, too. I remember I was watching the livestreams of the con panels and wishing I could be there. 

nightshadewisdom : That would have been around season 2, right?

agardenofstars : Yeah, right before season 2. I think I saw your fanart of the waterfall scene with Seele and James and I just had to write something for it. . . 

nightshadewisdom : You tagged me in it, and I was still small enough then that I could keep up with everyone tagging me in stuff

agardenofstars : And the rest is history ;)

agardenofstars : And you were plenty popular then! The fandom for the reboot wasn’t that big yet. 

nightshadewisdom :  Okay, you got me

nightshadewisdom : I’d actually seen your fics before that point

By nature, Sonya was a storyteller. She lived and breathed a narrative, a romanticized sequence of events. And she prided herself in knowing her stories well, keeping track of all the miniscule details, like whether Seele Gardner’s eyes were blue or green (somewhere in-between). 

This was a detail unbeknownst to her, one that she couldn’t have known. And yet it was one that changed the narrative. A chance meeting was less than chance. The moon and the earth had been circling each other in orbit long before they could see each other. 

She sat back in her chair, considering it a moment. Then her hands hovered tentatively over the keyboards as she struggled to decode her own whirling thoughts. 

agardenofstars : Really? I wasn’t really writing anything good yet. Or getting that many hits on my work.

nightshadewisdom : That’s true, but you were also one of the only ones writing Jaseele fic. 

nightshadewisdom : I always wanted to post some of the work I’d done based on that earlier stuff but I never got up the courage.

nightshadewisdom : You never know how that kind of thing will be received

agardenofstars : Ha, I would’ve worried about that for your stuff, if you didn’t always post it with a caption saying it was okay. 

nightshadewisdom : It’s funny, isn’t it? We both were so shy then, it would have been so easy for us to never meet

nightshadewisdom : And tomorrow would be very different. Maybe it wouldn’t happen this way at all.

nightshadewisdom : I don’t know. Sorry, guess I’ve been thinking about things. I don’t know why. 

agardenofstars : It’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it too. Hard not to, I guess. 

She knew that she would just be waiting in the silence, hanging on the edge of her seat as she waited for the things that neither of them wanted to say. She couldn’t dare to bridge that gap herself. So she got up—she’d come back to this later. 

Besides, there were things to do to get ready for the Starfall Sleuth convention tomorrow. She had to get her cosplay out, double-check the wig, and give one last once-over for all of the details. She also needed to retrieve the tickets from her email and get them onto her phone, and pull some cash from the ATM in the basement of her dorm building. Then there was dinner, and a thousand other excuses she could make.

But she’d come back to Discord eventually. 

She always did, when it came to Jay. 

If there were two things that always came back to her, it was Jay and Starfall Sleuth. 

It was an hour later when Sonya returned to her computer, ready to brave the messages on Discord with a bowl of Kraft Mac and Cheese, courtesy of the microwave in the dorm’s rec room. 

“Alright, Jay,” she murmured to herself aloud. “What’cha got for me?”

nightshadewisdom : How did you get into Starfall Sleuth, btw? 

Sonya blinked. She hadn’t expected him to take the conversation in that direction. Still, she faithfully began to type out a reply.

agardenofstars : It’s funny, I guess it never came up before. My mom was into Starfall Sleuth back in the 80s, when the first show came out. I watched parts of it as a toddler, and when I was in like, fifth grade, I saw the books in my school library. 

agardenofstars : I was more into them than the original show, although I liked the first show okay. But then when the reboot came out, there was so much hype and it was hard not to get swept up in it, you know?

nightshadewisdom : Yeah, I know the feeling. 

agardenofstars : How about you, then? I know you were doing art when the reboot was announced, but I don’t think you ever told me your origin story either. 

nightshadewisdom : Really? That’s funny, it’s always seemed obvious to me. 

nightshadewisdom : But now that I think about it, I never told you my full name. It’s James.

agardenofstars : OH LIKE JAMES STARFALL SLEUTH

agardenofstars : You’re shitting me

agardenofstars : HOW HAVE I NEVER PUT THAT TOGETHER BEFORE?

agardenofstars : I feel so stupid now

nightshadewisdom : It’s okay, I actually feel better knowing that you never put that together

nightshadewisdom : So yeah, my dad ALSO liked the show in the 80s and then when he had me, what else was he going to name his kid? 

nightshadewisdom : It could have been worse though. He also liked the original Voltron, so I could’ve been a Keith. 

nightshadewisdom : And growing up in a house full of old nerdy stuff, it’s no wonder I ended up the same way

agardenofstars : You have no idea how much is clicking into place for me

agardenofstars : That’s kind of cool, though. I take it you and your dad were close? Before. . . you know

nightshadewisdom : We were. And it’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it with you.

nightshadewisdom : I mean, you were there, when it happened. Or there for me, since we couldn’t meet up yet

agardenofstars : Yeah. God I wanted to buy a ticket to fly to you then, even though my mom would have never let me fly to meet some guy I met online.

nightshadewisdom : You know, I think sometimes that it’s a good thing Dad didn’t make it to see the last season. 

agardenofstars : What do you mean?

nightshadewisdom : Dad’s favorite character was always James Atelier, and he really liked how the first show ended, compared to the books 

nightshadewisdom : But he hoped that since they made so many changes in the reboot that they might make James’s ending a little more happy.

agardenofstars : Like that he and Seele would get together this time?

nightshadewisdom : Exactly. 

nightshadewisdom : He thought even the ending in the TV show, where James wanders the world and is all alone

nightshadewisdom : That was too cruel for someone who always wanted to try and do the right thing and cared about his friends

nightshadewisdom : Even if he went about it the wrong way sometimes

nightshadewisdom : Maybe if Seele hadn’t just gone on her way after he friggin sacrificed himself for her

nightshadewisdom : Maybe if she just cared or acted like she loved him at all

nightshadewisdom : Then maybe I’d be okay with how they ended the whole thing 

nightshadewisdom : But my dad would’ve hated it regardless

nightshadewisdom : he hated unhappy endings 

agardenofstars : So do I. 

agardenofstars : The ending absolutely crushed me. I really loved reading about Seele Gardner as a kid, she was the smart and almost unlikeable kind of girl I was 

agardenofstars : And she was so alone in the world because of it, at least at first

agardenofstars : Throughout so much of the stories, she got to have adventures and to make friends and to have someone like James Atelier, someone who really understood her. 

agardenofstars : He was like, basically her soulmate, the Gentleman Thief to her Great Detective

agardenofstars : And then he just DIES?!

agardenofstars : like wtf?

nightshadewisdom : exactly!

nightshadewisdom : and you know what’s weird?

agardenofstars : what?

nightshadewisdom : I don’t think any ships I’ve had in the past few years had a happy ending

agardenofstars : OMG YOU’RE RIGHT

Sonya added a chibi image of a steampunk girl with red hair with her little hands on her oversized shocked face. 

agardenofstars : It feels like only unhappy endings are what you get right now when it comes to love

agardenofstars : Especially for female protagonists. 

agardenofstars : I mean, I think I kind of get why, since a female character doesn’t NEED a love interest but. . . 

nightshadewisdom : it makes you feel like love is dead

agardenofstars : EXACTLY!! THIS!!!

nightshadewisdom : it definitely makes you wonder. . . 

nightshadewisdom : What about you?

agardenofstars : What do you mean?

nightshadewisdom : Do you believe in love?

What the hell kind of question is that?

agardenofstars :  Of course I do. *gestures at AO3 backlog* I’d be kinda hypocrite if I didn’t

nightshadewisdom : I’m sorry, I don’t know why I asked you something like that

nightshadewisdom : I’ll stop being weird, I promise

agardenofstars : That’s a fucking lie and you know it, Jay 

agardenofstars : When have either of us not been at least a little bit weird??

agardenofstars : Are you thinking about Jenny again, then?

That seemed the most logical reason. He’d gotten oddly philosophical, in the wake of the breakup. Sonya had always been the writer between the two of them, but the words he typed in their late night chats after Jenny disappeared out of his life were practically poetry. 

Sonya only knew Jenny as a shadow, a mere image. She’d heard the name in some chats, saw the pictures on Jay’s Instagram, but not much more. But she did remember how one of the pictures had branded itself into her memory. 

It was taken on a school trip, at a zoo or something, and one of his friends must’ve taken it for him, because Jay was in the picture. He wore the Starfall Sleuth hoodie that was in a lot of his photos, an arm around Jenny’s shoulders. 

Sonya remembered seeing that photo while sitting on the couch, re-watching a Season 1 episode of Starfall Sleuth for one of her works in progress, and being overcome with a sense of longing. She wanted, in that moment, more than anything, to be Jenny. She wanted Jenny’s sunny smile, her shiny, glorious hair blowing gracefully in the breeze, and most of all she wanted to be standing where Jenny was. 

And then she felt quite cold on the couch. Ice crept through her veins, as she wondered what had given her the nerve, the desire, the feelings she didn’t want to explain. 

She’d felt it all again when Jay told her that they’d broken up and Sonya felt like the worst person in the world.

Didn’t she want one of her best friends to be happy? To live a life in the real world?

Like I’m not real? Like Starfall Sleuth and all the things we’ve made aren’t?

Sonya shook her head and dismissed the thoughts as mere exhaustion, or nervousness, or any other excuse she could come up with to deny what she was feeling. 

She decided to get up and put her empty bowl in the sink. She’d clean it later, at some point. By the time she got back, Jay had written back. 

nightshadewisdom : No, not exactly. 

nightshadewisdom : Forget about it. Want to see the Phantom Thieves unite?

Sonya grinned. 

agardenofstars : Of course—although, isn’t it a little like seeing the bride before the wedding?

Her cheeks heated up and she wished she could have taken it back. What on Earth had given her such an idea?

nightshadewisdom : haha maybe

He then attached a photo—a quick mirror selfie showing Jay and his two close friends in the costumes without wigs or makeup. All were in varying states of quality, but the love shone through. 

agardenofstars : You guys look great!

agardenofstars : I can’t wait to see you guys at the convention center tomorrow

nightshadewisdom : Me too. 

nightshadewisdom : anyway, we’re going to turn in, since long day tomorrow

nightshadewisdom : goodnight!

The light next to his Discord icon dimmed, and Sonya was left alone in the blue light of her laptop screen. She found herself reaching out, her fingertips brushing against the words on the screen, Me too.

They felt like a vow, somehow. An oath. 

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning, as the thunder rolled outside of her dorm window. 

She closed Discord and opened her word processor. A few keystrokes, and her YouTube playlist for Jaseele drowned out the rain. She would start a new story, a modern AU, enemies-to-lovers of course, where James and Seele had met online and were about to be in person for the first time, the catalyst to their immortal love of course. 

And maybe they could show her how to say “I love you” tomorrow. 

...

Saturday morning on Sonya’s campus was uncharacteristically quiet and idyllic. She strolled under the pink and white apple blooms planted around the college’s main avenue as the birds sang and the sun passed through the fluffy white clouds, giving the mid-morning a pale blue glow. Only a few other students were out and about, and they were mainly keeping to themselves. 

That said, curious eyes drifted all to Sonya in her cosplay. With the periwinkle Edwardian-inspired dress, white-blonde wig, and elaborate straw hat with fake flowers in pink, white, and aqua-green pinned to the brim, she looked eccentric, at least. 

Not that she paid them too much notice. Her mind was racing with thoughts, all about the epiphany she had had last night, tangled in with the five-thousand words of Jaseele fanfic she’d drafted last night in a frenzy. 

Today, Sonya would meet Jay for the first time.

Too quickly, her steps had carried her to the outside of the convention center, hardly a block from her campus. The modern marvel of architecture towered over her in steel and glass. The large digital sign over the great front entrance declared that SleuthCon would take place inside—the local branch of the convention dedicated solely to Starfall Sleuth. The last time one of these had been held in Sonya’s city, she’d been thirteen. It was funny, to think how much had changed since then. 

The trip through the security queue outside was short, especially as Sonya had no prop weapons on her, only a small backpack purse that was easy to check. Within a few minutes, she was through and she was inside of the convention. 

Already the cosplays caught her attention as she entered the lobby of the convention center. So many costumes from the series had been brought to life before her very eyes. Several young women donned red wigs and goggles characteristic of Victoria Kestrel, Seele’s mechanic friend who was a known flirt and a fan favorite. Jay and his friends wouldn’t be the only Phantom Thieves cosplay group: several people were dressed as James Atelier and his friends. Seele could even spot one of the complicated costumes from the 80s version of Princess Emmaline ascending the stairs to the main floor.  

There was so much to do—Seele had to grab her badge and the ticket pre-order goodies, then she needed to check the final convention schedule to figure out what she was going to do today. But she didn’t do any of that first. 

Rather, first she headed toward the coffee shop near the front, a location that did not require for Seele to acquire a badge first. That was where, according to the Discord that she’d received earlier that morning, Jay and his friends would be waiting for her. 

She thought she might have to search a bit for him, especially given that many people were wearing the same costume—James was the deuteragonist of the franchise, after all. 

But she locked her eyes onto his as soon as she entered the room. Her breath caught in her throat as brown and brown met. She thought her heart might beat faster, but it didn’t—it slowed. She found herself smiling as she floated toward him. 

This felt right, like coming home. 

He’d smiled when he caught sight of her too, she could see that as she weaved between patrons and tables. 

“Sonya, you look great!” One of his friends, Will, turned around and waved as she approached.

“So do you guys.”  Seeing the picture last night of the unfinished, thrown-together version were one thing. But this was with the proper preparation, the wigs in place and the right makeup—and the effect was arresting. One of Sonya’s favorite stories had come alive, and she was a part of it. 

“I got a birthday cake-latte for you.” Jay placed a coffee cup with her name scrawled on the side in front of the chair left open for Sonya. “I remember you mentioned that you’d tried it a month or two and you really liked it.”

“I can’t believe you would remember something like that.” Sonya sat down gingerly, careful not to crush the white under-layers of the dress. “Thank you.”

Jay shrugged and opted to take a sip out of his coffee cup instead. 

Sonya took advantage of the moment to pull out her phone and send off a text to both her roommate and her other friend on campus, Alix. 

Got to the convention ok. Let you know when I’m heading back, but don’t expect that til late. 

She then turned on the camera and put it on selfie mode, holding it high above the round table. 

“Smile!”

Everyone held up their drinks and made a goofy expression. 

With a snap, the moment was immortalized. Not that Sonya needed a photograph to remember how this felt. Like watching lightning strike the pond at her grandmother’s from the front porch when she was eight, the moment might have only been for.a second: but the memory was seared into her brain for forever. 

There was so much to talk about, so much to say. But the epiphany remained at the forefront. It was the pink elephant, the thing she could not talk about no matter what. After all, it wouldn’t be worth it, for all of her fantasies entwined with fan fiction last night to tell him what she thought. After all, the risk of ruining such a long friendship was too big to ruin with possibly unrequited romantic feelings. 

“So, did you guys see the convention schedule?” Robin asked as he scrolled on his phone. “The panels all look kinda lame, not gonna lie—they couldn’t get anyone good to come here.”

“Didn’t they get the actress for 80s Elodia to come?” Will tilted his head. 

“Eh, she was only in one episode.” Robin shrugged. “Kinda overrated, if you ask me.”

“Well, I want to go see the costume designer’s panel,” Will said. 

“What do you want to do, Sonya?”

Sonya turned her head to Jay—there was an urgency of sorts in his eyes, the kind that indicated an attempt at communication without words. She glanced down, and that was when she realized that she had slipped her hand into his. 

“Whatever you want to do,” she declared. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

The way he nodded, without looking away from her, she felt as if they’d exchanged a vow. 

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

if you’re still doing them, ❄️🪐🕯️

YESSS i am always doing ask games <3 I am a chronic yapper of course

❄️ - what is your dream theme/plot for a fic and who would write it best

OKAY honestly this has been asked to me before and I'm still coming up like...moderately empty. So many people create so much good content out on the internet, and so many things that I already love are already on the internet.

Honestly some version of a sebchalstappen long term relationship fic would be A+, or like....a fun zombie apocalypse lestappen fic. The other day I was writing something that vaguely referenced ella enchanted and now i have a background hankering for an ella enchanted-esque Maxiel fic. (which...Please...SOMEONE WRITE).

As far as who would write it best....friend i don't even KNOW. Again I follow so many talented writers writers on this damn app, and I think that all of them have the ability to write something like the above listed plots. Though I'm a filthy filthy lover of @ powerful-owl (not @-ing bc i'm a coward) and thing that Em would write the Ella Enchanted-esqe one in the best and filthiest fucking way

SORRY this is a long answer.

🪐- name three good things going on in your life right now

I'm about two weeks away from going on a really fun trip, I get to visit a handful of online friends in both Indiana and Tennessee, and then am following it up by going to When We Were Young in vegas, to see MCR and Fall Out Boy

My coworker just adopted an owner surrender because they couldn't afford treatment for her foreign body, we were mishandled by the emergency clinic, so we did it at our clinic, I ran the anesthesia for her surgery, and she's now doing SO MUCH BETTER (not that I don't have faith in my abilities, sometimes it's just nice to be reminded)

I'm surrounded by people who love me and who routinely remind me on a regular basis, and also I'm making new friends on this lovely app, all of whom I love dearly, all while I'm doing something that I love dearly (writing)

🕯️ - on a scale of 1 to 10 how much do you enjoy editing and why is that?

OH this is a LOADED question, darling anon. This DEPENDS heavily. I love editing other people's work, so for that, if a 10 means I enjoy it the most, would be a 10. This is because I love taking people's WIPs, and handholding them to bring out the most polished and wonderful version of their work. I've helped my friend edit her writings, I helped my other friend edit her phd thesis. I love editing because I have a natural talent for being able to help people unbury parts of their work that they were still in the process of figuring out

FOR MYSELF....unfortunately it's more like a 3? I use editing my work as an excuse not to write, and ALSO as an excuse to look at my writing and hate it all. I'm incredibly self-critical, and only in the last few years have started letting my friends and people on the internet see what I write (outside of RP), because I'm chronically convinced that my writing is bad. This is NOT me looking for sympathy!! please understand that. I have often edited my works to the point that I run out of all steam and motivation for them, and don't finish them.

So if you see my fanfics out in the world with spelling, grammatical and sentence structure errors? yeah that's because I don't edit my work much beyond a couple cursory readthroughs and adjusting a little wording.

If i had a beta it would be different but alas...I DO NOT

[sepublic]

Editaurus is someone who flips back and forth between talking hot shit about her own talent —and actually being able to back up her claims— as well as being her greatest critic. She's an artist after all, a designer; She's obsessed with improvement and perfectly capturing her vision. She helps fund programs to make chimera casting more accessible, not just because she knows from herself that a great caster can come from anywhere; But also, uplifting others can result in rivals who can sharpen Ed's skills like a whetstone, keep her on her toes all the time. She has no desire to be complacent, nor a big fish in a small pond; She wants to reign in a thriving ocean.

So she'll critique her own perfectly-suitable chimeras; She'll create a deeply horrific monstrosity that gets the job done, and Majikus will praise Editaurus' work. But then she'll brush aside the compliment (perhaps being a tad demeaning in doing so) by explaining how this chimera could've been soooo much better, certain aspects of it are clumsy and inefficient, its back muscles are lacking and weak.

Majikus really doesn't care, she insists that if it gets the job done, then it does. But Editaurus loathes cutting corners and isn't in the profession just for function, but aesthetic as well. She's not a big fan of having to churn out quantity over quality, and would prefer to spend extra time obsessing over every minute detail in a recipe in order to perfect it; This is of course not efficient for Majikus' agendas, and she'll have to strong-arm Editaurus into remembering who's leader of the warlocks for good reason. Ed will feel regret over a project coming out rushed and incomplete, and remind herself to revisit that recipe in the future to do it the justice it deserves.

The chimeras ARE Editaurus' magic; In a way, they're her spells. So every time the Monster Fighters take on a chimera, it's like they're fighting Editaurus herself in a very long-distance way. She's like Viracious that way; You need to consider a magician's summons and creations as part of their magical resume and feats. Such constructs ARE manifestations of their power, as much as any fireball or barrier spell would be. And so you wouldn't truly sum up, nor reflect, a magician's power without their armies taken into consideration, because it's their magic spread thin, invested into one of many forms.

In terms of individual combat, Editaurus might be less magical and more physical, making her akin to her partner Megarus; Her body is a chimera as well, so it can be quite fast and lethal. She might have summoning magic as well to bring forth her chimeras; I do want her magical fighting style to be distinct enough, she's always been one to care about individual identity. Maybe Editaurus is a blend of Viracious' long-distance combat via minions, and Megarus' on-hands approach. What Ed may apparently lack in magical attacks, she makes up for in her magic being the chimeras she creates, and has made herself into; Which could also be comparable to Kisonus transforming herself routinely by applying her magic to herself.

But this might all be fitting; Editaurus is a chimera caster, meaning she puts together different unlike parts to create a whole greater than the sum of its parts. Her own name is a chimera too, referencing the fusions that are the Minotaur or Centaur, plus the word ‘Edit’ to signify her artistic touch. So to pull from other Warlocks' styles could be appropriate; I can also see Majikus being a jack of all trades in a similar style, which tracks with Editaurus considering herself a viable candidate for leader, and thus rival to Maj. She IS responsible for the main bulk of the Warlocks' army through her chimeras, so it'd be fitting if the leader had creation and mastery over the grunts as a whole, and leading the Warlocks is an extension of that power. That’s how Editaurus would justify it, anyway.

[lyndonriggall]

Door 34

Photo by Georgie Todman.

A few months ago, I got a gnawing feeling. It felt like the slow rising of a wave of overwhelm, and that the little boat I called my life was floating somewhere in its path.

I was behind on edits working with my wonderful mentor, Mark Macleod, on my children’s novel. I was attending a series of workshops developing a brand new project for a local theatre company. I had just returned from an international holiday, and I had a job application to complete and a stack of creative writing folios to mark, not to mention all of the emails I had to answer. My house was in disarray (never a good sign), and I was recovering from a knee injury that was making running difficult. I was a busy boy, and it felt like everything that had once been a blessing had suddenly become just one more thing to constantly be worrying about.

I sat down on the couch with my head in my hands. What was I going to do?

After a moment (and a big sleep), I thought about everything a little more. What was I really doing? I was writing a children’s book, and in a month’s time I would have the opportunity to pitch its concept to some of Australia’s best publishers. I was creating an original play in an environment where I had an enormous amount of creative support, and it was growing every day. I had been to Japan, where I had driven a go-kart around the streets of Tokyo, undertaken a traditional tea ceremony, and visited the world of Harry Potter at the Universal Studios theme park. I had almost cracked a twenty-minute five km personal best in my running, and I was working at my favourite school, teaching my favourite subject and had a new leadership position. I was co-President of one of Tasmania’s largest literary festivals.

It was a lot to sift through. But, I reflected, Lyndon at 24 would have killed for the problems that I had now. For all of my challenges, I was living the dream of a younger version of me. I am living the dream of a younger version of me, even now.

Much has stayed the same for me in 2023. I wake up in my little house, largely following the same routine in which the clock might be set by coffees in the morning, green teas in the afternoon, and a cup of earl grey in the evening. Some things have changed, though. For the first time in more than a decade, I will be acting in April, in the Launceston Players’ 2024 Production of Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman, a darkly funny comedy about a writer living in a totalitarian state being interrogated about the grisly content of his stories. Georgie and I, as co-presidents of the Tamar Valley Writers Festival, will be heading up our first fully-fledged event this year in October, bringing local and national storytellers to our hometown. After six years teaching English 3, this year I will be taking my first Philosophy class, and will spend at least some of my time unpacking the big concepts of the good life, ethics, and the mind/body problem.

I have been so very spoilt on my arrival at thirty-four. There were messages that my phone buzzed with all day that spoke of me in the kind of way that seemed perhaps to indicate a person I wish I was, rather than the way that I am, but which nevertheless made me feel that I might be doing something right. There was cake, and decorations, and presents that were as thoughtful as they were generous. There were enthusiastic happy birthday declarations at school, a family member who cancelled their plans that night to be able to spend more time with me, and food… food… so much food.

I live the kind of life now where I have almost an entire year laid out before me at every turn. The school calendar ticks forward from day one to exams with a frighteningly predictable progression that always gradually increases in speed and intensity. Trips, activities, performances and adventures start filling in the gaps long before the diary has officially turned from one year to the next. It is a gift, certainly, on some days, to be busy. There isn’t time to worry about the sorts of things that used to turn over in my mind for hours: the things said and unsaid, heard and not heard, the mistakes made and the undeserved successes. There is only time to hold on tight.

Most days, when I wake up, I feel lucky. I used to think of each new day, and each new year, as a blank page, but perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it is a door… not necessarily something that I get to write for myself, but something that waits for me, and that I only need enter to discover. There are times when it all feels really, really hard. Of course there are. But through all of the challenges I’ve faced, I haven’t yet had a year where I regretted where I've found myself. I have learnt and grown so much. I think Lyndon of ten years ago, and twenty years ago, would be proud of me. I think he’d be excited that one day he would get to be me, and open Door 34 for himself.

If you’re reading this, the chances are that somewhere behind that door you are waiting. Today, as I step through and turn the lights on to face the surprises of the year ahead, I feel so grateful to be here, and so grateful that you are too.

Whatever happens, this place is home now. And as the way back closes behind me, knowing that you are in here somewhere beside me, I am excited to see, and embrace, whatever lies ahead.

[themorningsunshine]

Muffins

Pie - eyed over you - Chapter 3 

Mafia - Baker AU

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Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder, lots of fluff (gotta give the fluff before the angst for it to hurt more, yup I am evil), Steve and Sam being a menace 

Word count - around 6k 

a/n - So, after two delays, hell a lot of editing, and straight up changing the whole structure of this chapter and then combining it with another (hence the length), it’s finally here. Thank you so much to all of you for putting up with me. Please let me know what you guys think about this. Your kind words keep me going. 

You placed the muffins in a tray for display before making a note in your diary to buy more chocolate chips when you go to the market on the weekend. 

Running a bakery all on your own is a difficult job but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world. Even though you were not a morning person, the prospect of coming here and baking made it getting up from the bed every morning a tad bit easier. 

As you heard knocks on the door, you frowned before looking up, there was still some time left before it was time to open up the bakery. 

But when your eyes landed on the figure standing outside the door, looking like a complete misfit in his dark clothes and sunglasses and surprisingly, a baseball cap covering his forehead, a pathetic attempt at being discreet, you can't help the way your lips turn upward and your heart flutters. 

He was here just yesterday and yet it felt like you were seeing him after too long. 

Get yourself together. 

It's just a crush, it'll go away. 

You wiped your palms on your apron before walking towards the door to open it. 

You gave him a teasing smile before saying, "You're at the wrong place. Baseball convention is another mile from here." 

He rolled his eyes before stepping inside the bakery, bending a little, the door a little too short for him. "Hello to you too, sweets." 

You chuckled before walking towards the counter as he took his usual seat. Everything felt like a routine. Engraved in your soul as if it had always been there. 

"Gracing this bakery with your presence two days in a row. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Maybe I just missed my sweets." He shrugged as if it was obvious. 

"Continue this and you are going to get diabetic." You remarked with a smirk. 

"Not the sweets I was talking about, but okay." 

The smirk immediately left your lips as you could practically feel your heart beat out of your chest. He didn't mean it. He's just teasing. 

But no matter what you think, you can't help the way the red color crept up to your neck at his words. 

Okay, this crush is getting out of hand. 

"So, how's work?" You say in an attempt to change the topic. 

He tenses at your words. You had asked him what he did, and he had replied that he was a mechanic. It was becoming more difficult for him to lie to you. 

But maybe, he won't have to much longer. 

He was pretty sure Walker was on his way to screw things up. 

That son of a - 

"Earth to James!!" Your voice moving and your palm waving in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts. 

"I asked how was work." You said with a frown. James always got weirdly uncomfortable when you asked about work. Maybe he didn't want to talk about it, but you were no one to ask. 

"Oh, it's been fine. You know, the usual." 

"Yeah, yeah. Steve is a dorky idiot and Sam is an annoying prick. I know." You said imitating the words he had said to you not a long time ago. 

Bucky chuckles. Telling you about Steve and Sam was easier. Maybe sharing something about him which wasn't a lie, made him feel less guilty. 

He knew this was wrong. 

He was creating a web of lies that you will find out one day.

But Bucky Barnes wasn't a good man and he would take whatever time he has got before the inevitable happened. 

Which wasn't going to be today. 

He wasn't going to let Walker ruin this.

He will just sit there, hiding half of his face with the baseball cap. It would be easy. It wasn't like Walker would expect to see him here anyways. 

He was just here to make sure that he didn't hurt you. 

The both of you striked a conversation just like usual and you immediately felt better. You knew it was going to be a great day. Had started off on the best possible note, atleast.

The clock striked eight before you knew it and you got up from your chair to flip the sign at the bakery. 

"Why don't you hire someone to help you?" James asks, sipping his coffee. 

"Why, you're looking for a job?" You teased him with raised eyebrows. "Job at the garage doesn't pay enough for your baseball conventions?" 

He rolled his eyes. "When are you gonna let this one go?" 

"I think… never." 

He chuckled before asking again, "But, seriously, sweets, why not get a helping hand?" 

" 'Cause I am selfish." When he narrowed his eyes, you continued. "I know this sounds weird, but I don't like it when anybody else cooks the food. It's just never good enough." 

"So, why not hire someone to deal with the customers?" 

"That's literally the best part of the job." You half exclaimed. "People telling you whether they liked the sweets or not is the best part, James. Almost as good as getting to eat all the leftovers." 

James chuckled before setting his coffee mug down. "There is no pleasing you." 

You shrugged before walking behind the counter to get everything ready for the morning rush you were sure was about to walk through the door any moment now. 

When a few people came in, some regular customers and some students hoping to get in some caffeine to start the day, you saw as James involuntarily tensed. 

Bucky watched the front door with focused eyes as minutes ticked by. He knew Walker will be here any minute now. 

And he was proven right as he saw John Walker opening the door of the bakery and walking in with a smug look on his face, shoving away whoever came in his path. 

Bucky wanted nothing more than to pull him out of here, away from you and this warm place but he couldn't do that. There would be consequences, which he normally wouldn't give a second thought to, but the real nuisance would bring questions. 

He watched as you greet him with the same grin on your face that you used for all your customers, saying in a soft voice, "Hey, what can I get you?" And Bucky can swear Walker doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you.

"Why not start by paying off?" Walker said with a tone harsh and loud enough that a few customers turned to see what was happening. 

You frowned your eyes in confusion, "I am sorry." You were still speaking in a calm, soft voice, trying your best to get whoever this man was to calm down. You didn't want a commotion so early in the day. 

"Walker." He said as if it was enough of an introduction before continuing, "And I think you have an idea of where I am coming from. You owe us." 

James watched as realization dawned on your face and you stood straighter, your smile turning into a forwn. "I don't owe anyone anything."

He leaned towards you, keeping his arms crossed on the counter, speaking with a smirk, "Don't try to act smart, baby doll. Pay up and no one gets hurt." 

He watches as you cringe at the nickname  and almost take a small step back, discomfort clear on your face. 

Bucky almost gets up from his chair, his first instinct to slit off Walker's throat with the knife he had tucked in his jacket. He would make it less messy too, but painful. 

Control, he isn't going to hurt her. 

"I am not going to pay you a single cent, Walker. So, why don't you take your ass out of my bakery and leave me alone?" As you speak, your hand inches towards the knife that you keep below the counter for situations like these. Even though you hoped you'd never have to use it, it was better to be prepared than sorry. 

John clenches his fist as his eyes bore into your skull, "Don't make this difficult. You don't know who you are trying to mess up with. The people I work with wouldn't blink an eye before dumping your body in a dumpster. Just pay every month and we leave you alone." 

"I have said it before and I'll say it again, I am not going to pay you to let me live." It's as if something switches inside you. The slight fear or discomfort that could be seen in your features is completely gone now. 

Bucky watches as Walker growls in impatience before reaching for his jacket pocket. 

Nope, not happening

"Listen to me, you little bitch - " 

Walker is cut off immediately when a larger figure stands between him and the counter. 

James shields you from him, obstructing his view. 

"Leave her alone." The sound is almost a growl. And if Walker hadn't been too preoccupied he would have noticed how familiar that sounded. 

"And who the hell are you?" He spat. 

Bucky looks down at him and watches as all the color is drained out of his face when he recognises him. 

"S - si "

"Leave her alone and if you show up around here ever again, it will be you in the dumpster, cut into more pieces than you can count." 

Fear is obvious on Walker's face, as he completely forgets the weapon he was reaching for, trying to get his senses to work, confusion evident on his face.

Before he can ask any questions, Bucky takes a step towards him, with sheer coldness in his eyes as if he could slit Walker's throat right now and wouldn't blink. 

You watch as the man - who had introduced himself as Walker- saunters out of the bakery with quick steps. 

You frowned your eyes at whatever had happened here. 

You weren't going to pay the mob any money, you knew that. But you also knew that you couldn't have overpowered that man, especially if he had a weapon hidden under there somewhere. 

"You didn't have to do that, James." You said softly, in an attempt to get his attention away from the door he was boring holes in. 

He turned back and you watched as his expression turned into the soft one you were so familiar with. 

You walked from behind the counter towards where he was standing before explaining, "He works for the mob. Trust me, you don't want to get involved with them." 

Bucky's breath hitches at that. How could he explain to you that he wasn't just involved with the mob?

"It's okay, sweets. They won't hurt me." That was some truth. They were never going to hurt him, and before Walker could utter a single word to anyone about the events of the day, he would be fired. Bucky would make sure of that. 

"I know." You sighed, looking down at the floor as if contemplating something. It was silent for a moment before you looked up, "Thank you, James. It does mean a lot to me." You said with a soft, grateful smile on your face and your hand reached out to his. 

"Anytime, sweets." 

A moment passed before anyone of you dared to move. Your hand was now brushing his arm in slight touches. 

You broke the silence, "Come on, have some muffins. They are on me." You said before turning back and walking towards the counter. 

Bucky had to stand there for a moment because his skin had suddenly started to feel cold and empty. Like it wasn't enough without your touch, before walking back towards the counter and standing right in front of where you were taking out some muffins on a plate. 

"So, Ms Feisty, something against the mob?" He said, trying desperately for his voice to sound joking. 

You shrugged while passing the muffins to him and turning to pour some coffee for yourself. "I am not going to pay them money just because everybody else does. Why the hell do I pay taxes?" 

"But the way you were standing, you don't just want to rebel, sweets. You hate them." He said, an emotion in his voice you couldn't really place. He prayed that that wasn't the case, that he had read the situation wrong and maybe you didn't really hate the mob. 

"Hate is a strong word, James. I - despise them." You reply before looking up at him to meet his eyes, but he looks away, almost as if looking at you right now would physically hurt him. 

"I mean, they aren't really that bad, right? It's not like I know a lot about them but I have heard they protect the city." He tries.

"Uh-huh. They are not good people. You remember that day when we met? When it was raining and I had lost my way, and you were there - "

"I remember the day we met, sweets." He interrupts. Every part of that day was engraved in his mind.

"Yeah, yeah right. So, that day I was coming back from a friend's house. She has a daughter, Ellie, about 5 years old." 

He hums, nodding his head, not sure where you were going with this. 

"Both of them were switching houses. Leaving their home, that they had built, to live in a one bedroom apartment in the not so respected area of the town. You know why?" 

He narrowed his eyes. 

"Because her dad was killed." You took a deep breath, trying to keep the rage from bubbling up to the surface. "A 5 year old lost her father, James. And why? Because of some stupid mob feud." 

"What was her dad's name?" He asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. 

"Jake" 

Bucky's moments halted as images came back to his mind's forefront. He had killed that man himself. Shot three bullets straight into his chest. He had felt no remorse then. That man was a traitor. Had joined hands  with the enemy, knowing very well what the consequences could be. 

He had felt no remorse then because he hadn't given a moment of thought to the people he might be leaving behind. It made his work easier. Pretending that there were no consequences to whatever they did. 

But now he could see the consequences. In the form of rage in your eyes at the tale and the hurt he felt in his chest, thinking about the girl. He knew how that felt. Being alone, and helpless. 

"She didn't deserve that. None of them did. Nobody deserves to lose somebody they love, James. But it hits the worst when it's unforeseeable. When the people who did it are out there in the world, as if their hands aren't tainted with blood, living their life and you can do nothing about it."  You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. Thinking about your friend and Elliot always brought you to tears. You tried to help them as much as you could, but there was only so much you could do. 

Bucky looks into your eyes and sees tears in the corner of your eyes. He wants to hold your hand, to comfort you, to tell you that they are going to be fine. But how could he, when his were the hands that were tainted with blood, that had taken the life of that man without a second thought. 

So, he just sits there, listening to you talk about the lady and her kid, even though each of your words is like a sword stabbed through his chest. 

When he knows you are fine, he takes his leave, bidding you goodbye before walking out and calling Steve. 

"Steve, I need you to do something." 

"What's up, Buck? Everything okay?" Steve replied in a concerned voice. Even after everything, his concern for his best friend never faded. 

"I am sending you some details of a lady and her kid. Send me the contacts of the person who bought their house." 

"Give me half an hour. But who are these people?" 

"They are going to be our responsibility, Steve." 

He cuts the call and sends a quick text with all the details he might need. 

He can't help but turn back towards the bakery to have one last look. He has made up his mind. He was going to tell you the truth. 

he didn't care if it meant you would hate him. There were many people in the town who despised him, what's one more?

But when he turns back and his eyes land up on you, handing a cup of coffee to a middle aged lady, talking to her with a softness unique to you. 

As if you can feel his eyes on you, you turn towards the window and as your eyes meet, your smile grows wider. A smile that's only reserved for him, he realizes. 

And he would have hated himself for how quickly his resolve fades away. 

But Bucky Barnes was not a good man. 

And maybe many people in this world did hate him, but he would be damned if you were one of them. 

He wanted this. The weekly bakery visits, the warmth, the sheer simplicity of it all, even if it was all this was ever going to be. 

And it was about damn time he got what he wanted. 

Why should he apologize for the monster he has become when no one ever apologized for making him this way?

Maybe, one day you'll find out the truth and hate him more for lying to you, but it wasn't going to be anytime soon. He will make sure of that. 

So, he straightens his coat and walks away from the bakery, choosing to not pay any mind to the inevitable doom that could leave the both of you shattered. 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*

"James Buchanan Barnes" 

He turns back from what he is doing to find you, cross armed, shooting daggers at him. 

"How could you, James? It's like you're not even trying." 

He can't help the smile that finds its way to his lips at the way you look. Your christmas sweater that you had deemed "perfect" for the occasion and a scarf draped loosely on your neck, trying to look intimidating, just makes you look even cuter. 

You walk towards him and take the candy decoration from his hand, to place it exactly just an inch away from where he was going to, because it looked in your exact words, "more festive" 

Bucky just smiles at you as he watches you ramble more about Christmas decorations. 

When a week ago, he had heard you reminding Pietro that he had to come over to help you decorate, he had stepped in and offered his help. He was free that day anyways, he had told you. There was an international shipment that he had to sign off that day, but that could wait. 

When Pietro had shaken his hand and thanked him for 'saving him', he didn't understand, but now he did. You were extremely particular about how each and everything had to look for christmas and was not shy to tell the other person what a terrible job they were doing if it wasn't exactly the way you had wanted.

But if the cute pout on your face and the warmth that it caused in his chest was any indication, it was worth it. The cookies whose smell reached him even in the living room was just an added bonus. 

Right now, standing in the middle of your apartment, surrounded by incomplete decorations that signaled the arrival of a festival he wouldn't have cared the slightest about a year ago, being scolded by you for not hanging the canes correctly, he regretted nothing. 

3 hours and a lot of debates later, all of which you won, the house was finally decorated enough for the festival. 

"Here you go." You said, handing him a warm cup of coffee and placing a plate full of cookies on the table in front of him. It was your way of saying thank you. 

Bucky looks around your apartment. It's just above the bakery and much smaller than the mansion he lived in. But it felt different in a way he couldn't point out. 

A shelf filled to the brim with books standing in the corner, pictures adorning the walls, each telling a different story. Some soft music playing on the speaker, it was like a blanket of warmth stood over your house. A little messy, but beautiful nonetheless. 

His eyes then land on you, sitting across from him on the sofa, sipping your coffee with a warm, content look on your face, your scarf now lying on the table. 

As if you could feel his gaze, you turn back to look at him and your breath hitches in the throat at the way he is looking at you. 

It's as if the world could crumble around him and he wouldn't blink an eye. 

You can't get yourself to look away. So, you just raise your eyebrows, because you have suddenly forgotten how to breathe and if he didn't look away right now, you are not sure you will be able to survive longer. 

He just shrugs and turns towards his coffee, as if it was a natural occurrence. As if your whole world hadn't stopped spinning for a moment there. 

Bucky looks at you through the corner of his eyes and watches as red color creeps up to your neck and you try your hardest to not smile. 

He now recognises the feeling. 

Your apartment feels like home. 

And the next realization brings with itself questions and doubts he wasn't ready to answer. 

He wouldn't rather be anywhere else. 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩

He clenches his fist as he drags his feet towards the bakery. 

It was pretty late. He knew that. 

But he just had to be there. 

He liked his work more often than not. The impending guilt and the danger aside, the reason that had initially brought him to this world still stood. 

It made him feel something. The adrenaline of each task, the satisfaction of seeing everything that belonged to his enemies burning down till there was nothing but smoke.  

The mafia world had welcomed the darkness that he had inside of him and made him one of their own, for which he will be eternally grateful. 

But for some time now, it hasn't been enough. 

The darkness that had surrounded and consumed him for so many years now was suddenly not enough. 

Something inside him changed. 

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had thought twice before shooting that man today. The whispers inside him that asked him every time 'if there was any other way' had become louder now and even the noise of the bullets couldn't silence it. 

He knew what was happening. 

He was seeking the light.

And every single part of him knew that this could only end in disaster. In a fire that threatened to burn every single thing to the last piece. 

But that didn't stop him from taking the next step. Or the one after that. 

He was still walking to the one place that could silence away his thoughts and make it all go away. Like a moth attracted to a flame. 

Maybe this was selfish of him. Maybe he was tainting you with his darkness. 

He will think about that some other day. 

When the bakery comes into view, he realizes just how late it is. 

You would be about to close now. 

Maybe he could catch a glimpse before you retired for the night. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. But it had to do. 

As he reaches the bakery, he watches as the door slowly opens and a young boy steps out. 

He frowns before walking ahead, and his eyes almost widen with who he sees. 

"Peter, what are you doing here?" 

Peter looks up from the book he is currently holding and his eyes widen with fear at the figure who stands before him. 

"S - sir, I - I was just - " 

A voice from inside the bakery calls out to him. A voice Bucky recognizes all too well. 

"Peter, you forgot this." 

You step out of the bakery with a textbook in your hands as you hand it over to Peter. 

Peter opens his mouth to speak but then closes it. Too afraid about what was going to happen. 

You turn around and when your eyes land on James, your lips turn into a grin before you know it. 

"James, hi"

Peter's eyebrows shoot up as he looks between the both of you. You have a glint in your eyes as if you couldn't be happier by anything else and the man he had feared with everything he had for the last couple of years, had a softness to his features that made Peter wonder if he was somehow swallowed into an alternate dimension. 

"Hey, sweets." Bucky says almost on instinct, before turning towards the boy who is still looking at the both of them as if he just saw a dolphin flying in the air. 

You probably notice it too, because you then point towards Peter before saying, "James, this is Peter, and Peter, this is James Barnes." 

"James?" Peter says almost on instinct, confusion evident in his voice. 

"Wait, you know him?" You ask, looking between the both of them now. 

Peter looks at Bucky and almost crumbles with fear by the warning glare he is shooting towards him. But there is something else there too. Something, he can swear he has never seen in the mob boss' eyes. 

There is fear in them. A tiny flicker of it. He fears the answer he is going to tell you. Whatever it was, it was too important for him. 

"No, no. I don't think we have met before." 

"Oh, okay." You say, confused as to what had just happened here. "All the best for the test and tell MJ I said hi," You give him an easy exit from a situation he was clearly uncomfortable in. 

You watch as a small blush spreads across his cheeks before he bids you goodbye and glancing at James once, takes his leave. 

"He is a nice kid." You break the silence after Peter walks away, out of earshot. "Pretty smart. I was helping him with his test tomorrow." 

Bucky looks back at you and shrugs in response. "Good for him." 

"By the way, it's closing time, James." You say with a teasing voice and he is relieved that you don't ask any further questions. 

"Come on, sweets. You could make an exception for your favorite customer." 

You roll your eyes before replying. "What about this? You help me clean up, and I get you something special I made today." 

"Help you clean up?" 

"Aww. The prince doesn't like to get his hands all dirty?" You smirk. 

"This special treat should better be worth it, sweets." He huffs before walking inside the bakery. 

You walk in behind him while giggling. 

__

"And that's it." 

You look at him with a smile and silently clap your hands together with an impressed look. 

If any of his men would see him right now, wearing an apron with a bunny on it, hands covered in flour, working in a bakery with soft music playing in the background, their eyes would pop out of their heads. But he couldn't care less. 

"Great job for a first timer, Barnes. You have earned yourself a serving of something special." 

Bucky smirked before replying, "Something special, you say?" He leans in and sends a wink your way. 

You roll your eyes before turning towards the kitchen, hoping that it wasn't evident how flustered you were.

You take out something from a box and place it on a plate in front of him. 

Bucky looked at it closely with a frown. It was clearly made of chocolate and was shaped like a dome. He could swear he had never seen it in your bakery before. 

"Come on, give it a try. If I wanted to poison you, I would have done it ages ago." 

He picks up one and after a moment of close inspection, takes a bite. 

As the taste of chocolate invades his senses, he moans and puts the whole into his mouth. 

You watch as his head falls back in delight. 

Once he is done, which is faster than he would have wanted, he says, "Sweets, that was the best damn thing I have ever had." 

You chuckle, "You say that every single time, James."

"And I mean it every single time." 

You just smile at him before putting another on the plate. 

As he devours that one quickly too, he inquires, "What is it called?" 

You smirk before replying, "James." 

"Yeah?" 

"James. That's what it is called." 

His eyes widen and he takes a moment to reply, "You named a sweet after me?"

"Well, technically, you were the inspiration for this." 

He frowns. "How so?" 

"Well, It's full of chocolate and exceptionally sweet. It's exterior is hard but its insides are so soft, they practically melt in your mouth." 

Bucky looks at you, baffled and you look away, unable to meet his eyes. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is suddenly shushed by you. 

"That's my favorite song." You whisper, as if not wanting to obstruct the soft melody. 

Bucky listens to the sound coming from your phone.

Wise men say

"Only fools rush in"

But I can't help

Falling in love with you

He looks back at you and at the way you have a soft smile on your face, your features highlighted by the soft glow of the kitchen light. 

You look at him and with a teasing smile puts your hand forward, indicating to him to take it. 

He looks between your outstretched hand and your face with a frown.

"Dance with me." Your voice is so soft, he just can't get himself to say no. But, who is kidding? He will set the whole world on fire and watch it burn with a smile on his face if you asked him to. 

He slowly places his hand in yours as the music continues. 

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help

Falling in love with you

The both of you stand in the middle of the kitchen, the moonlight sweeping its way through the windows. 

Everything is brightened in a warm glow but you know nothing will ever shine brighter than the way his ocean blue eyes do right now. 

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

One of his arms finds its way around your waist while the other holds yours. 

You place your free hand on his shoulder and he gently pulls you closer. 

The both of you stay like that for the rest of the song, swaying slowly to the music. 

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

You don't know who  leans first but before you know it, the distance between the both of you starts decreasing. 

You hold your breath and your gaze move from his eyes to his lips. 

You would be lying if you said you had never thought of this before, of how his lips would feel against yours, how he would taste like. 

This man had occupied your thoughts since the day you had met all those months ago and you were pretty sure he had no idea of the effect he had on you. 

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

Just as the song is about to end and there's nothing but an inch of distance between the both of you, the door to the bakery was suddenly pushed open with a force and the sound of the bells invaded the comfortable silence that had covered the room in a blanket. 

The both of you took a sudden step away, and you needed a moment to calm your heart which felt like it was about to beat its way out of your chest, before looking up to see who it. was. 

You squinted as two men, one blonde and the other dark haired, stood at the door, looking comically too big, having no idea of what transcribed in the bakery before they had not-so-smoothly barged in. 

The blonde one speaks, breaking the silence, "I knew we'd find you here." 

You watch as he steps towards James, who looks at him with sheer annoyance. "What the hell are you doing here, punk?" 

The other man looks at you and forms a smirk before stepping towards you. "So, this is where you always sneak off to? I guess I understand why." 

James huffs in annoyance and with a sten face stops him, "Shut up, Wilson." 

You look between the men who looked like they were in a staring contest when realization hit you. "Steve and Sam?" 

All the men look at you at the same time and you feel like a deer caught in headlights before you stand up straighter reminding yourself that no matter how intimidating the situation was, this was your bakery. 

"And you must be y/n l/n. It's great to finally meet you, Ms l/n" Steve says, smiling. 

"Please, just call me y/n." 

"Or we could call you beautiful." Sam replies before stepping forwards, stretching his hand to take yours for a shake. 

You let out a chuckle before shaking his hand. "Y/n is fine." 

"What are the both of you doing here?" Bucky speaks up, shooting daggers at Sam, his fists clenched. 

"There's an emergency. We need to go." Steve replies, a serious expression adorning his face. 

Sam interjects them "What's the hurry? I have heard so much about this bakery. We could eat something before leaving." 

Bucky spats at him, "This bakery has closed, Wilson. Time's up. Get your butt moving." 

Sam pouts and you chuckle at the antics of these grown men, "Why don't you come here some other day, Sam, I have something that I think you'll like." 

Sam looks at you, a childlike smile replacing his pout, "I like her already." 

Bucky steps forward towards Sam, pulling him away. "Don't listen to him, sweets." 

Steve and Sam turn their head towards him so fast. you are sure they will get a sprain later. Sam raises his brows with a smirk on his face, while Steve looks at him with a smile on his. 

James then quickly bids you goodbye before pulling the both of them outside the bakery. 

Once they reach the car Steve and Sam had driven in, they both look at him with amused grins. 

"Back off, the both of you. What's the emergency?" 

Steve's expression turns serious as he replies, "Our shipment from Iran has been stopped at Morocco and they are refusing to comply." 

Bucky narrows his eyes at the information. Who would dare to stop their shipment and risk getting on his bad books? "Who is it, Steve?"

"It's Alexander Pierce." 

Bucky lets out a breath before looking in the direction of the bakery once more  and then turning towards Steve and Sam. 

"Get in the car. We need to leave right now. This is going to be a long assignment."

Next part

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