burningcheese-merchant · 18 hours ago
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Little thank-you post!
I have over 100 followers now! Don't really know why any of you are here, I am not funny nor am I interesting, nor do I actually post anything cool lol. But regardless, I'm really grateful for you guys and for your support! (As well as all the anons that reach out to me! Thank you to you all, as well! I enjoy when people actually talk to me, nobody wants to feel like they're rambling into a void lol)
As a sort of mediocre, I'm sorry thank-you, I want to outline what I've got in store for you all next:
Gonna release the BurningCheese playlist soon, it's over 30 songs long now lol. I want you all to jam with me. Rock out to the BurningCheese vibe. (And send me more song recommendations if you want, a lot of what I have now is thanks to homies making suggestions)
PART 2 OF "Mine Forever More" IS COMING VERY SOON! Now that I've played through episode 6 (and had a massive meltdown because BURNINGCHEESE IS CANON OMG /jk), I know what I want to do for the story now. Expect it to be posted within the next day or two! (And also look forward to more short stories, I have a lot planned)
Remember those BurningCheese fankids I've mentioned more than once before? Get excited, you're gonna see and hear about them again soon 👀👀👀
I've gotten asks about my "Reformed Beasts AU" that I've been tinkering with. I promise there will be a masterpost on the subject in the future. I kind of want to iron out my thoughts on the Beasts in general first, and how I headcanon their corruptions (like that "a thought about Burning Spice" post I made). Will probably write about Shadow Milk next, or maybe Silent Salt (I've made up a whole ass character for this guy that I've gotten attached to already lol)
I know I have a bunch of asks in my inbox I still need to answer. I'm sorry for the delay, I promise I will get to you all. I inhabit the real world and have real-world responsibilities like everyone else, unfortunately haha
Gonna remind you all again that my AO3 username is sleeping_mouse_1011, because people have asked me that, too. Do be careful, a lot of my works are NSFW to some degree (that's where I indulge in Yandere Spice lol). I encourage minors to stay here and enjoy my SFW stories instead.
Got a bunch of meme edits to make now, hope those make you laugh. I gotta cope with having no artistic talent somehow
I have thoughts and headcanons I'd love to share about other characters and ships besides Burning Simp and Pretty Cheese Lady lol. I'm actually NOT entirely insane, I am capable of rational discussion about things other than BurningCheese, I swear
Thanks again to everyone who takes the time to rifle through my nonsense posts and read my stories. It really means a lot to me that my works bring people joy. I know I'm still just some nobody on here, but even so. I hope I somehow manage to put a smile on your face. Even if it's more at my own expense than anything else.
That's all from me for now. Merchant out. Later, haters
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camels-pen · 10 months ago
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(i haven't read Whole Cake in a while, and i never really watched it, so bear with me)
I'd love to write a fic with Usopp on Whole Cake. it'd be sooo fucking long and i'd need to refresh myself on the entire arc, but god i'd probably be so satisfied when it's done. specifically for having brought a single moment in my head to life, but we'll get to that.
On Zou, he insists to be taken along on the Sanji rescue team and has worked himself up with a whole bunch of very good reasons as to why he should go there instead of helping in Wano, but of course Luffy just immediately accepts with a "yeah sure"
With Whole Cake, I think he'd be flipping between having fun as part of the idiot trio/quartet (Luffy, Chopper, Carrot), and being terrified with Nami. There wouldn't be that many differences in the arc as a whole, though; some things would be easier/better and some things would be worse- I don't necessarily think Usopp's presence would be overall an advantage or disadvantage, just different. Like, major events would stay mostly the same, but little details would change and maybe those little details would build to a far more drastic change-
for example, maybe one of Big Mom's kids considers themself a great sniper and wants a match with Usopp, or is motivated to work harder because Usopp is around and they want to take him out and boast about it. Maybe it means Sunny takes more damage than canon, or maybe Usopp's help means less damage to Sunny. (idk if i'd really do smth like this, but it's just an example)
skjdhf fuck i'm really not equipped to try and figure this out when i don't remember shit from Whole Cake aaaa
I do know that, despite his penchant for talking and rambling, I'd probably have Usopp be dead silent after his initial shock when Sanji fights Luffy. Everything about that is the same, except Usopp is just watching Sanji the whole time- not panicking, not moving, and not speaking. He doesn't say a word the entire time, doesn't even make a sound, and that, along with Luffy's words and Nami's begging, stick with Sanji.
(Usopp is thinking of his own fight with Luffy in Water 7, he's partially wondering if this was what it was like- if it was this painful to watch from the sidelines- and partially knowing he doesn't have to say a word, because he knew, like he knew back then, that it didn't matter what was said. It wasn't quite the same, but he could tell in the way Sanji moved, in the way he spoke and held himself, that he was putting on a front, trying to be brave in all the wrong ways. Usopp didn't say a word to Sanji because there was nothing he could say that Sanji himself didn't already know. Should've known. And his quiet, direct stare, was more than enough.)
the singular moment i really wanna write, is a scene where Sanji is apologizing for dragging them into his mess- either during the big meeting in Bege's castle or some other time- and Usopp's like "I'll do what you can't, you do what I can't, right?" and Sanji pauses, a little confused, until he remembers Enies Lobby and a stupid mask and cape and-
and tears are gathering in his eyes now, fuck, but he laughs a little. It sounds wet and his face is itchy and they're surrounded by tentative allies, but he- he laughs again and he says, "Fuck, you remembered that?"
Usopp shrugs, a little smile on his face. "They were some wise words from a wise man."
Sanji laughs a third time. "You think I'm wise?"
And they banter a little more before Bege tells them to quit it since they're on a time constraint or something. Quietly, Usopp will ask, "It-it helps. On bad days. And I figured, 'what's a worse day than this?' Ah, not that you getting married would ever be bad per se-"
"Usopp," Sanji says, looking more relaxed and settled. He smiles fondly and grabs his friend in a one armed hug, crushing him to his side. "Thanks."
And yeah, don't remember much beyond that, except the whole "hiding and then busting out of the cake" bit, which would mean Usopp in a cute little tuxedo or smth- maybe with a fedora aaaaaa <- loves fedoras- helping out with the fighting and eventually sailing with everyone to Wano.
He would be so distressed about fixing up Sunny now that the whole thing with Whole Cake is over. Maybe there'd be a gag about him promising Franky to take good care of Sunny while they were gone and being confident, after being Franky's tinkering partner and learning from him over time, that he could handle minor repair work much better than he did the first time around with Merry. And so when he finally takes in all the very-not-minor repairs he has to do, he's certain Franky is gonna strangle him for not keeping his promise. Probably also try to write in some nostalgic 'repairman Usopp' vibes from pre-Water 7.
Also something something, Sanji, wanting to do more for the crew bc he still feels guilty about Whole Cake, decides to take it upon himself to help Usopp not fall into a whole anxiety spiral about the ship. In turn, Usopp ends up helping Sanji not feel so guilty- usually by handing his own words back to him on a silver platter. And, yknow, having the two of them bonding and being buddies again like they so rarely get to be in canon nowadays qwq
#one piece#usopp#whole cake island#nemotime#that bit in bege's castle isn't exactly how it would go. just kinda. trying to get the vibe. also it's wayyy too short lol#the sanuso bit can be platonic or romantic. originally when i was gonna write out this idea a while ago i was thinking romantic with my#'they get engaged/married b4 dressrosa' au but tbh platonic works just as good#im- these guys man. i hate them so much (affectionate)#i'll get to rereading whole cake and finding a way to put him in there but for now. this.#if anyone's got other ideas im all ears#edit from like march 7: thinking about this again#maybe usopp being silent is an indicator for sanji that usopp's really fucking disappointed or shocked or w/e#but for usopp himself it's like being back in water 7. he doesn't even mean to be silent. he's got words built up on the tip of his tongue#but none of them come out. and despite sanji being Right There all he wants to do in that moment. is run.#at the very least he stays and watches the whole confrontation through. but afterwards he probably feels like shit#because he's the guy who's great with words right? he's the guy that can relate the most out of the group who went to WCI. he should be abl#to make a significant difference and help convince sanji to come home. but he feels like he failed. like he's going to lose another friend#and it's going to be all his fault. (again)#[not really. we all know merry wasn't his fault but we love old insecurities rearing their head in this house]#later he'd probably end up saying the words he wanted to say. and maybe it's better that way. that he ended up waiting#until luffy's had a proper shot at scolding sanji first. because then usopp can act as support and reinforcement. which. yknow.#a sniper's duty and all#anyway i got other shit to do so i'm cutting myself off here#wci usopp
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itsahotminuteinbetween · 1 year ago
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so I think after y/n's first encounter with Sun in Narnia (I haven't actually written my vision for it but please bear with me here I'm a bit all over the place this week), they find themselves feeling a bit under the weather for a few days. After they deem themselves well enough, they throw on a coat and some mittens (last time they weren't prepared, and they don't wanna get sick and miss more work days) and step into the wardrobe. Real quick for those of you who have read the Chronicles of Narnia-makin it so that y/n can go through the wardrobe whenever they want because it'd just be much harder to write around that specific plot point.
Anyways, they trudge through the snow and stumble upon the little clearing with the lamppost. Seeing no sign of Sun and not remembering the way to his cave, they decide to wait for a little while. And who should stumble upon them but our silent wolf, our guardian and protector, our dearest Mr. Moon, who had been out on patrol before spotting a visitor of the strangest sort.
He watches through the evergreen trees, hidden behind branches that sag with the weight of the snow. He can't remember the last time he's seen a human before.
Well.
He supposes a quick stop wouldn't hurt.
He walks out and introduces himself to a surprised but unbothered y/n, who gives their name in return. They walk and talk for a bit, with y/n asking questions and Moon dodging answers. Occasionally he'll give an odd, shrill little laugh at a point in the conversation they wouldn't deem funny, but they think nothing of it. He asks where you're from, and you tell him about the wardrobe and the human world, to his intrigue. He flicks a sharp wrist and mentions his own line of work, something about tending to a statue garden for his employer. He offhandedly suggests stopping by sometime. Just as you're about to answer, his ears twitch, eyes going from a soft red and black to a blank darkness. His pupils return momentarily, fixed on you before he tells you he has to leave, and, without another word, slips into the shadows.
You go from the company of one to another, predator to prey, for as soon as the wolf disappears, the smooth, yellow hands of the fawn tap you on the shoulder. You look up, smiling at Sun before noticing that his own soft smile is absent. His attention is on the dark trees and underbrush that Moon just disappeared through, then it drifts back to you. He pulls you along suddenly with rushed greetings and a quick change of topic as he leads you to the cave.
All the while, the trees listen.
Red eyes watch the pair retreat.
It seems an investigation is in order.
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wretchie · 10 days ago
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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago
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Show me where it hurts (part 1)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
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(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist
summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.
warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo
a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D
(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)
edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(
wc: 3.6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You think Miguel is avoiding you. 
One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 
"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."
She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 
"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"
"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 
"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 
He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 
"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 
"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 
"I don't have time for this-" 
"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 
"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 
"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 
"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 
This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 
"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 
"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."
"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."
He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "
Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 
When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 
"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 
Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 
~~~
Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 
He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 
Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 
"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 
Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 
"What happened?" He strains. 
"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 
"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"
"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"
Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 
"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 
"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."
Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 
"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."
When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 
You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 
"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."
You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."
"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."
You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 
He shrugs. " 'Course I was."
"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 
"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 
He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 
"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 
"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"
"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 
"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 
"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"
"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 
"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "
He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 
"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"
Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.
"I don't… I d-don't…?" 
"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 
Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 
"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."
"Miguel-"
"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."
"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 
Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."
You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 
"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."
You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 
~~~
The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 
The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 
You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 
"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"
"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 
You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 
The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 
"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."
"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 
"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"
"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."
"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."
"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."
"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 
You hum.
"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"
"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."
He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 
"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 
"Naturally…"
"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."
"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"
"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."
"Shit."
"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."
"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "
"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 
" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."
"Good to know. I'll see you around."
He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 
Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 
You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  
On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 
"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 
"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 
"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 
"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."
"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 
She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."
Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 
"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."
You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 
"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."
"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 
She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 
"Did I do something? Not just today but��� last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"
"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 
"I'm a little confused, Lyla."
She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 
It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 
Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…
"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "
You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 
"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."
Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 
"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 
"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."
"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."
"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."
"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 
"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"
"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."
The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."
"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 
With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.
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queers-gambit · 11 months ago
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Love What You've Done with the Place
song by Rascal Flatts
prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.
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It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.
So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.
It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.
Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.
His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.
Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.
He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.
Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.
He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.
"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."
"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.
"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."
He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.
"What?" You giggled.
"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."
You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.
Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.
But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.
This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.
He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.
It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.
When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.
How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.
The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.
"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."
"Fuck off with that!"
"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"
Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "
"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"
It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."
This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."
Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.
It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.
However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.
Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.
It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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ericshoney · 5 months ago
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Sweetheart ~ Sturniolo Triplets
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Warnings: mentions of mental health, coping mechanisms, implied ADHD!Reader, slight innocent!reader, use of pet names (kid, sweetheart, petal, bub) in a platonic way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today you woke up at twelve full of energy. It wasn't unusual for you to wake up as a bundle of joy, but the time you woke was. You usually wake up at around two or three in the afternoon, not twelve.
You had slept in Nick's bed for the night, your own room being too "boring", or that's what you told Nick as you climbed into his bed to sleep. Not that it was unusual, you and Chris both struggled to sleep alone, sometimes you'd both share a bed, giving Nick and Matt a break.
When you woke, you saw Nick still asleep besides you. Not wanting to wake him, you slowly get up and go take a shower, getting ready for the day. After a bit, you heard Nick shout.
"You in the shower, kid?" He called.
"Yeah! Nearly done!" You shouted back.
You heard him mumble an okay before you quickly finished and got out, drying your hair as you walked back into the bedroom, seeing Nick sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
"Morning sweetheart." He said softly.
"Morning, how long was I?" You asked.
"Bout twenty minutes." He answered, making you nod.
Nick then went to shower and get ready as you headed downstairs to the kitchen, seeing Matt and Chris both awake. The two greeted you as you sat on the counter, swinging your legs.
"Your wearing odd socks." Matt mentioned, noticing your pink and blue socks.
"I got bored trying to find a matching pair." You confessed.
"Don't worry, petal. I'll sort it out later." He said with a soft smile. You returned it as Chris started showing you some edits on TikTok.
Nick soon joined the three of you as you then began discussing what you wanted to do for the day. The guys had a pre-filmed video so the day was yours.
"What about Target? Or the park? Or mini golf! Or what about bowling!" You rambled on quickly, making the triplets smile.
"We can do all of them bub, where to first?" Chris replied.
"Umm the park! No bowling! No mini golf! Target! Wait we haven't eaten so food!" You answered quickly.
"Sweetheart, take a deep breath. How about we go to Target, get some food and head to the park first?" Matt suggested calmly.
"Then we can go to mini golf." Nick continued.
"And end the day with bowling." Chris finished.
"Sounds good! Let's go!" You cheered, rushing to the stairs down to the car, the trio laughing softly.
"I'll get her shoes." Chris mentioned, grabbing a pair of your Converse.
By the time the triplets made it to the car, you were already sat in the back having unlocked the car, and playing a game on your phone.
"Bub, your forgetting something." Chris said, as Matt started the car. You looked up and realised he was holding your shoes.
"Oh right." You giggled, slipping them on and putting your feet on Nick's lap, letting him do your laces.
"To Target!" You cheered.
Music began to play as you looked out the window, watching the world go by and before you knew it, you had arrived at Target. The guys got out first before you, something they always did, in case you walked out in front of a car from being distracted.
"I'm gonna get some sour gummy worms!" You said, already excited for the sweet treats.
"Kid, you don't need anymore sugar." Nick said with a laugh. You stuck your tongue out as you all went into the large store.
You all started looking around, grabbing some stuff you wanted for now or later, Chris grabbed a large case of Pepsi saying he was running low, but you knew there were at least ten cans in the fridge. You then drifted away from the guys, a few fidget toys grabbing your attention.
~~~~
As you looked at the different toys, Nick, Matt and Chris started to panic, not seeing you by their side. The trio were protective over you and knew you didn't like being alone, so losing you in a large store wasn't good.
"She was just here!" Matt exclaimed.
"Where would she go?" Chris questioned.
"There!" Nick shouted, pointing out your small figure by the end of the toy aisle. You had a good handful of fidget toys now.
The three rushed over to you as you looked up at them with a sheepish smile. Knowing you made them panic.
"I got distracted..." You mumbled, holding the fidget toys.
"It's okay, petal, but tell us next time. Or grab one of us." Matt said gently, running a hand through your hair.
"Yeah bub, we don't wanna lose you in Target." Chris added.
"We're not mad." Nick reassured you, knowing you were thinking that.
"Okay! But look at these! They light up too!" You cheered, showing the brothers the toys you found. They smiled, knowing you were happy.
"We'll get all of them, sweetheart." Nick said, taking them to hold, in case anything else caught your interest.
You smiled wide as you all continued shopping before heading off to the park. The guys cherished days like this with you, knowing you'd get a lot of your energy out and be extra happy.
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hauntedrain · 11 months ago
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New Year, New me | Charles Leclerc x fem! reader | 
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Summary: Charles cares about your opinions, even when it comes down to a new haircut. 
A/N: so of course this is about his new haircut, and personally I like it <3 so I based a lil something off of it. Also this is badly written cuz I was half asleep writing it but I hope you like it.
Warnings: the normal; not edited, really short, more of a Drabble tbh (500 words).
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 He was scared—most definitely scared. He liked the haircut—a new change for the off-season—but nonetheless, he was scared. He didn’t tell you about his plans for his haircut; he didn't even bring it up that he’s going to get one. So on his way back to the apartment, he was stressed. Would you like it? Hate it? wish it was different?
He knows you would never downright say you hated it, disliked it, or even commented on it if he enjoyed it. But he wanted your opinion; he knew how much you liked his hair before, and he’s seen a lot of stuff on social media about people's significant others getting a haircut and not liking it or them the same as before. So now that he was walking to the apartment he was preparing for the worst. 
    “Ma chérie, are you there?” He called out while closing the front door and facing an empty entryway and living space.
  “I'm over in the room, Char!” You called out.
    He put down the few small bags he had in his hand along with his keys as he walked over to your shared bedroom. He didn’t initially see you as he walked into the bedroom, but once he noticed the lights on in the bathroom and the slightly open door, he found where you were. He moved over and slowly opened the door, and he was met with you putting on what he assumes is a form of lipgloss or lipstick. You didn’t immediately notice him as you were too focused on your makeup; however, once you did, you turned around and hugged him, not noticing immediately the major change he made to his hair. He nuzzled into your neck and shoulder while returning the hug. You guys stayed like that for a bit until he pulled back a bit, looking down at you.
    "Oh my god, you cut your hair!” You said this while looking up at him and finally noticing it. You ran your hands through the top part of it that was still fluffy while smiling a goofy but surprised smile.
 “Yeah, do you like it?” He asked sheepishly while holding you.
    “It’s pretty cute, you didn’t tell me you were gonna cut it. Was it a spring of the moment type thing?” You asked pulling him over to sit on the bed while you stand in front of him.
“I mean yeah, kinda. I wanted something new for the new year.” 
    “You took ‘new year, new me' seriously huh?” You said smiling at him while running your hands through his hair again. “It’s pretty though.” 
��Thank you, ma chérie. I was worried you wouldn’t like it.” He said messing with the bracelets he was wearing. “But I’m glad you do. Now we just have to see what the fans think of it.” 
“Bet they’ll like it, for the most part.” You said slightly laughing while going back to get ready for the event later that evening. 
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speakergame · 8 months ago
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Progress Update - 3/4/24
Hello and happy March!
It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 😅 Well, I finally have some good news for you this time: I have some actual news!
I'm happy to be able to announce at last that an update is on its way! I’ve still got some assets to make and code cleanup and testing to finish, but I should finally have something to show you soon.
I’ll put a cut at the end of this and go into more detail about the what and why of what I’ve been working on during this long and unintended hiatus, but the tl;dr is that I hope to have an update out by the end of the month, and that said update will break any saves made in Chapter 4. Unfortunate, but unavoidable, since Chapter 4 had to be recoded from the beginning 😞
I just want to thank all of you once again for sticking with me through my extended silence! Especially to my patrons who’ve put up with me putting everything on pause month after month while I dealt with my real life shit, and to everyone who’s sent me kind and supportive messages to let me know Speaker hasn’t been forgotten. It really means a lot to me.
Okay, enough of that sappy shit! I’m gonna get back to work finishing this up 😁 I’ll put out another update later this month once I have a more definite release date.
Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re having a fantastic 2024 so far, and that the rest of the week treats you kindly. See y’all soon! 💙💙💙
(For those who want a more detailed breakdown on what’s been happening and what to expect, hit the readmore)
I won’t go into the personal life stuff I’ve been dealing with this past year that has slowed down my work, but as far as the actual game goes: 
To put it simply, I just wasn’t happy with it. Some of it could be because of how many times I had to reread the same section while I was coding the scenes that would’ve taken place after the last update, but no matter how much I edited or rearranged it, I didn’t like how that scene turned out. There was something… formulaic that had been happening with the way I always laid out scenes, and a bit of stagnation in the story, character, and relationship development that bothered me.
So I rewrote it. And when I still didn’t like it, I rewrote it again. And I still didn’t like it. I thought about scrapping the whole thing on more than one occasion as I struggled to get out of the corner I’d written myself into.
Inspiration finally struck at the beginning of this year, thanks in part to another interactive novel I follow, and I really like the direction I’ve taken it now. 
Instead of the RO split scenes happening where the last one left off, Speaker, Seer, and Gavin are gonna have a chat about Things™ to move the next story arc forward. Then Speaker will get some downtime, by themself at first and then in an extended scene split with the RO of their choosing. 
All the Big Plot Things that were going to happen in Chapter 4 will be moved to Chapter 5 instead, and 4 will be a bit more of a filler episode. A deep breath before the plunge, as it were.
This split won’t just be a quick conversation/reaction from the RO, but a full on different direction for the rest of the chapter based on who you choose. Most of them will involve leaving the house; all of them will involve actual one-on-one time (or one-on-two time, as the case may be) away from the others. And though romance isn’t required, all of them will have the potential to really move the romance forward if you so choose. One or two might even have a lock-in choice (maybe. I’m not 100 percent on that, so don’t hold me to it) 
These scenes won’t be in the next update, because they’re all very complex, but the update will definitely have the Seer chat and at least some of the by-yourself stuff. The update after will have the rest of the alone time stuff (including the clothes/body CC you’ve all been waiting for), and then the one after will start the RO scenes. I think.
I may actually split the RO scenes into separate updates, and let my darlings over at Patreon vote for the order they’re released. That way I can focus on one at a time instead of trying to split my attention six ways at once.
Okay, that’s enough rambling for me today. Time to get back to work! Still got a lot to get done before this is ready, but it’s so close now.
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kaliforniahigh · 3 months ago
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casual - n.s.
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Inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan. Noah is your friend but not your best friend if you know what I mean.
Warnings: angst, Noah is kind of an ass, sad thoughts, neither one of them know how to express themselves and deal with ~feelings~, curse words.
WC: 1.677
Part 2.
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My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch
You were used to the title of "friend". You were friends with the band. You met Nick first, some years ago and he introduced you to everyone else, and after that, where everyone was, you weren't far behind.
You graduated with a degree in photography a couple of years ago, and when the chance of touring with the band and learn from Bryan was presented to you, you couldn't refuse. Who would?
You don't exactly remember when things changed so drastically. Granted, you couldn't call Noah your best friend, but you talked to him everyday, you joked around together and even had a secret sign whenever you were at a party, to tell the other one of you was feeling a little overwhelmed, and was going to step out for a bit.
Looking back at it now, you realized these moments only held significance to you. You thought back to the night everything changed. How he was talking to you so smoothly, how he looked you in the eye and payed attention to every word you were saying, how his hands touched your thighs and finally, how he asked you if you wanted to get out of there and maybe go up to his room.
You also remembered how he asked you to leave not even 15 minutes after you were done, how he laid there scrolling on his phone as you gathered your clothes and put them back on, saying goodbye but not sticking around to hear his response. Pain clawed at your chest, but you pushed it down.
So when it happened again at a house party they were throwing, you left before he had to tell you. You told yourself you could do this, you liked him as a friend and not as something more. Besides, you were having fun and he was good, and by the way he was the one seeking you out everytime, you figured he felt the same.
You just didn't consider the fact that you were totally not the only one he was having sex with. Because right now, you were sat at a table at a bar the boys saw not too far away from the venue they were playing at, deciding that a night of drinking was in the cards to commemorate the sucess of the tour so far. And he was at the bar chatting up a pretty blonde. You wanted to know if he was telling her the same things he told you that first time.
"Looks like someone is getting lucky tonight, huh?" Nick sat down next to you, nodding towards Noah and the pretty blonde.
"Looks like it", you acted nonchalant, if any of the boys knew about this thing going on between the two of you, none of them mentioned anything. "He does this often?", you asked him, fishing for information. You had the priviledge of this being the first tour you were embarking on from beggining to end, so no one really thought anything more of your questions.
"Only when we have a hotel room. Can't really do much on a tour bus, you know?", you hummed in agreement, Nick said he was getting more drinks and excused himself.
Later that night, Noah left early (with the pretty blonde) and you went to bed alone.
I thought you thought of me better Someone you couldn't lose
So you decided to do what you did best: distance yourself from him. Every night, you always showed the boys the pictures you'd taken on your camera. Now you told them you wanted to wait until you edited them. You just didn't want anyone to notice you started taking less and less photos of Noah.
Nights out also became less frequent, but everyone just thought the exhaustion of being on tour was finally catching up to you. You didn't bother giving them any other explanation. You had to remind yourself that you were here working, this was your job and you were not gonna let him distract you from that.
You were currently working on some photographs you took on the previous nights, the chatter on the tour bus filling the space. You saw a can of White Claw appear in your field of vision. You didn't have to look up to see that Noah was handing it to you.
You took it from his hand and thanked him, popping it open.
"Is everything good?", he questioned you. He was used to you asking him to sit down, sometimes he would even observe you working because he found it just so relaxing. This time, you barely aknowledged him, just taking the beverage from his hand and going back to work.
"Yeah, just concentrated, you know?", you said, not diverting your eyes from your screen. He thought it was weird, but if you didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't gonna push you. He observed you for the rest of the night.
You honestly didn't know what you expected. For him to take your hands in his and tell you how concerned he was about your sudden distance? For him to notice you were hurting from the decision you made yourself? How much you didn't want to accept that you were like the other girls he banged on a weekly basis? Deep down you knew there was no way for him to know those things if you didn't communicate with him. But he acted like he already forgot what happened, you didn't want to be the one hung up on something that is never going to evolve.
You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss, I have anger issues
The guys played a festival today. The atmosphere was so different and exciting that it actually took your mind off of things. You met so many other professionals and exchanged so many experiences.
You were talking to Liam backstage as the boys were getting ready to go on stage. You noticed he used a camera different from yours and was excitedly asking him all kinds of information. You were interested in modifying your set up and try other things.
He showed you some pictures he took from earlier in the day and explained to you all the different settings and how he liked to adjust them. You were so distracted that you didn't notice Noah coming up behind you.
"We'll be up in 5 minutes", he told you, startling you quite a bit.
"Ok, I'll take my spot shortly", he nodded, but said nothing else, walking back to the band, the boys going over some last-minute details.
You found it weird, no one ever had to tell you what time you had to do your job, because you know. You decided to exhange numbers with Liam so you could continue this conversation later. You grabbed his phone and started to type your number.
"C'mon, Y/N", you heard Noah again, his behavior starting to piss you off. You signaled for him to wait.
"You're gonna be late, we're going on stage now", he wouldn't leave you alone. You handed Liam's phone back to him and bid him goodbye.
"What the hell are you on my ass about? I know what time I have to do my job, you don't have to remind me", you didn't wait for a response, grabbing your equipment and making your way to side stage.
The interaction put you in a sour mood for the rest of the day and everyone noticed. Your smiley and excited self was now gone, your face serious as you kept your conversation with other people short.
With the festival ending, you made your way to the tour bus, as you waited for the equipment to be loaded so everyone can hit the road again.
Noah was the first one to be back, as he took a seat in front of you. Both of you stayed silent until he decided to speak up.
"Seems like you and Liam were having a pretty good conversation", he noted, not looking at you, picking on a loose strand from his sweatpants.
"Yeah, he was pretty attentive", you responded, not knowing where he wanted to go with this conversation and why Liam was relevant.
"Oh, I bet he was", he let out a low chuckle.
"Yes, he was. Is there anything wrong about a professional conversation?", you crossed your arms in front of you, getting a little bit defensive.
"Professional conversation? Please, tell me you're not this dense", you were in disbelief, catching on to where this conversation was headed. "You honestly didn't notice that this guy is just trying to get in your pants?"
"Please, Noah. Don't compare every man to your shitty self", you scoffed, getting up to leave.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?", he got up after you and you could feel his presence on your back. You turned around to face him.
"Didn't you do just that to get in my pants not too long ago?", your eyes were fierce and held a fire to them.
"Oh, so that is what this is about?"
"I don't know, is it? You're the one who all of a sudden came here telling me who wants to get in my pants", you needed him to enlighten you, because you had sex twice and not even once he came looking for you to talk about it.
"I just thought you wouldn't be so easy", your opened your mouth in shock at his words. Surely this can't be the same person you knew.
"So now you're calling me a whore as well? You weren't complaining about how easy I was when I was sucking you dick"
"That is not what I said", he tried to defend himself.
"Well you might as well have", there was a pause in conversation, but you weren't planning on letting him say anything else. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you. Just because we fucked twice doesn't mean you have a say in who I can involve myself with. Besides, you're the one who takes girls to your room every week. So please, spare me hypocrisy"
You turned around and left for good now.
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Part 2 maybe???
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copinghex · 3 months ago
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From his tenderness | T.S
Summary: After a long and tiring day, Tommy tucks his wife in bed. 🔞
A/N: Saturday smut hehe
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Tommy knew she was in a bad mood the second she entered his office. The windows of their shared house were all closed to keep the cold out, but she still felt her hands shaking.
She plopped into the sofa and left out a sigh, covering her face with both hands.
"You didn't answer any of my texts," Tommy started, "why did you get a phone if you're not gonna use it?" 
"Tommy-" she complained, "I must've turned off the notifications, right? I'm sorry," 
He sized her up and cracked a weak smile, "You look fucking exhausted," 
"Tsk, thanks," she snorted.
"Rough day?" 
"Yeah," 
"I ordered dinner," 
"What?" 
"You didn't answer my texts so I ordered your favorite," Tommy explained and she grabbed her phone, glancing at the messages on the lockscreen.
"Hmm, I'm not hungry yet," she complained, "I just wanna go straight to bed,"
"Then go," he took a sip of his whiskey glass and went back to his work, "I'll join you later,"'
"Join me now," 
"I've work to do," 
"Don't you always? You had the whole day to finish this," she argued.
"I've got emails to send," 
"Oh? Managing to send emails without me?" she mocked, "They grow up so fast," 
"Weren't you going to bed?" Tommy gave her a scolding look.
Silence took over and she stood up, "I'll take a shower," she announced before leaving the office.
She made her way through the house checking her social media, dropping the phone on the bed when she got in the bedroom. Picking a set of clean clothes, she headed to the bathroom.
Taking her working clothes off felt the same as taking a burden off her back. She started the shower and waited until it got warm.
The water ran down her tense muscles, she quickly rubbed the soap on her skin and rinsed off. After washing her hair as well, she closed her eyes, enjoying the water on her back, however the incomplete chores of the day still clouded her mind.
With a deep frustrated sigh, she turned off the shower and grabbed her towel, perhaps a good night of sleep could achieve better success in relaxing her.
Back to the bedroom, she got dressed and plopped in bed, right in the middle, unbothered by her wet hair in the sheets or the fact Tommy might want to lay down later, he didn't put her first when she told him about her terrible day so she wouldn't put him first now either.
Except that, suddenly, a warm rough hand wrapped around her ankle. 
"Fuck!" she jumped, pulling her leg back, "What're you doing?" 
Tommy chuckled at how easily she got scared, they were the only people in the house, it couldn't be anyone else. 
"You're not gonna eat?" he asked, grabbing her leg and gently squeezing her calf muscles.
"No, I just want to sleep," she frowned, "what happened to your emails?" 
"I've set another priority," 
"Oh, really?" she scoffed and pulled her leg back again, "Or were you just struggling to edit a document?" 
"I decided to do something you often do for me,"
"You're gonna convert my docx files to pdf?" 
"Alright, fucking stop that," he demanded, "for someone who's so tired you're joking way too much," 
She smiled at his annoyed face, mentioning his lack of technological skills always made him defensive.
"So here's what you're gonna do," he held the hem of her shirt, "take these off, shut your pretty mouth and lay on your stomach,"
"Why?" she questioned.
"Do it," he gave her an assuring nod. 
Hesitantly, she took her clothes off, laying down on only underwear. She frowned when Tommy reached for something from the dressing table and straddled her thighs.
"What are you-"
"Just relax, alright? I dropped my paperwork for this," 
A shiver ran down her spine as Tommy spread lotion through her back. He pressured in between her shoulder blades, melting the tension underneath his palm just like she had done for him many times. 
A smirk showed on his face when he noticed the sleepy look on her face, he was certain that when he finished, she'd promptly fall asleep in his arms. 
His rough hands trailed the way down to her lower back, effortlessly soothing the knots on her muscles. Tommy took his time to extinguish any ounces of tension, handling her body with the mastery he cultivated in the time they were together.
At certain point, she felt liquid in his hands, loose as a ragdoll, but surprisingly, not asleep yet. Whatever was clouding her mind was resistant to enough to not vanish.
Gently, Tommy lifted her hips and pressed her back down, making her arch for him. His fingers brushed on her clothed pussy making her whine,
"Tommy-" she peeked at him, "I'm tired," 
"It works for me when I can't sleep," he argued and she chuckled.
"Not always, that's why I insist you take your meds," 
"Yeah," he admitted in defeated tone, "and what an insistent creature you are," 
"You are a creature," she struck back then smiled, "come here," 
Turning to face him, she tried to attach her lips to his neck, he quickly held her jaw though, not allowing her leave any marks on him.
"No, last time I had to keep up with John spitting three jokes per minute," 
"But Tom-" she tried to remove his hand.
"No, just let me take care of you, eh?" 
With a weak smile, she nodded, "Okay," 
Tommy pecked her lips and headed to the wardrobe, rummaging through the drawers until he found their lube bottle, "Tongue or fingers?" 
"You," 
"Alright," with a naughty smirk, he also got a condom and a tiny vibrator.
Once he was back in bed, she attached their lips together, her mind slipped away from any worries at the feeling of his gentle kiss. One of Tommy's hands rested on the top of her head while the other guided her legs around him.
At the same time, her hands explored the soft skin under his shirt, the lean muscles twitched and she smiled against his lips, she knew Tommy had many women before and yet, simple gentle touches made him weak.
When necessity demanded, they broke the kiss, breathing heavily with desire.
"I love you," she breathed out.
"You better," he weakly smiled, pampering kisses on the valley of her breasts.
Reaching for their little toy, Tommy turned it on and attached his lips to her neck. Her eyes closed at the exquisite combination, nibbles soothed by his gentle tongue, followed by wet kisses.
In feather-like movements, he teased her nipples with the vibrator. He wasn't particularly fond of the loud sound, but he was of the sweet moans he heard when it came to play.
She barely realized when they started to leave her lungs, Tommy couldn't waste the opportunity to point out, "Not so stressed now, eh?" 
"Hm-hmm," she denied.
"Does it feel good, love?" he whispered, lips brushing against her ear.
"Hm," finally opening her eyes, she pleaded, "want you, Tom," 
With a mix of scoff and laugh, Tommy put the vibrator away and laid down on the bed, "C'here," 
Taking her panties off, she placed one knee on each side of his head, at full display for him. She gripped on the headboard feeling his warm breath against her.
He affectionately stroked her hips at the same time kisses were placed on her inner thighs, a playful bite made her gasp with laughter which was quickly interrupted by the feeling of his warm mouth.
Tommy dragged his tongue through her wet folds, tasting her entry before moving to her swollen clit. Wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, he switched between licking and gently sucking.
His strong hands pulled her further into his face and instinctively, her hips moved searching for more. As his name poured from her lips in weak moans, she moved forward trying to get him on her entry again, he obliged, teasing her needy hole before giving her pussy an appreciative kiss.
Suddenly, Tommy stopped, contanting himself with tracing her inner lips with feather-like touches.
"Tom?" she asked, confused and slightly frustrated with the lack of touch.
"It's alright," he soothed, "I got you," 
Pushing two fingers into her, he resumed his movements, this time the double pleasure got louder moans from her. His fingertips brushed the perfect spot on her insides and the coldness of his wedding ring added an even better touch, she felt herself soaking up his hand and chin.
The sweet tightness of an orgasm started to grow on her stomach, resting her cheek on the headboard, her hips moved in small circles trying to get all the pleasure her man provided.
She took a hand to Tommy's head, holding into his soft hair, the raspy groan he left out against her pussy was enough to send her over the edge. She couldn't control the urge of fucking his face through the overwhelming wave of pleasure.
He kept going until she started panting and finally feeling her eyelids heavy. Every ounce of stress or energy left her body and she moaned a spoiled sound, expressing how satisfied she was. Tommy should have stopped by then, he didn't.
Guiding her arms behind her back, he simply ordered her not to move, there was no need for physical restraint, her unquestionable obedience was enough. Pulling the hood of her clit, he left her completely exposed, flapping his tongue on her reddish tip.
"Tommy, please," she whined, "please, please please, it's sensitive," 
Tommy chuckled hearing her pathetic begging, dragging his tongue to her soaked entry and finishing his short torture sucking her lips together.
With two little smacks on her ass, he allowed her to get off his face. She moved down to his hips, comfortably sitting before laying down on his chest with her eyes closed.
"Want to sleep now?" he whispered.
"No," she quietly answered, "still want you," 
"Yeah? You're sleepy, I can tell," 
"Hmmm," she complained, "want you, Tom," 
"I know, love, but looks like you're already sleeping," 
"Hm," 
"When you wake up I'll give you what you want, alright?" 
She took a moment to considerate his offer, then finally agreed, "Hmm," 
Kissing her forehead, Tommy stroked her lower back until he heard low snores coming from her. With a small smile, he carefully got out of bed, covering her naked body with a blanket before leaving the room.
He still had paperwork to make, this time without worrying about her.
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blacknedsoul-blog · 5 months ago
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An unnecessarily detailed analysis of the (re)encounter between Annabel and "Leo" (part II)
Evil tongues say I've had this shit in the oven for several weeks because I bought the fast pass on episode 105 and smoked the whole season one afternoon when I was bored as a fucking oyster about to climb the walls. Don't listen to them, they're telling the truth.
So, yeah, people. We had a flashback. One that comes right after the last one we had. Aside from the fact that we finally know a little more about Theo, I want to focus on the direct sequel to a review I did a while back. So let's get started.
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I'm still trying to decide if Annabel is complaining just because she had to get off her ass or because "Leo's" room being so far away from hers is, ahem, inconvenient. Another detail that someone mentioned on the discord, is that Annabel does this thing where she grabs her dress when she is trying to maintain the performance.
(later edit: someone commented to me that actually their rooms are ridiculously close to each other. So allow me to insert ridiculous jokes about how the first thing Ira will do when these two are engaged is take his precious daughter who is not to be touched before marriage somewhere else).
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...Ah, they put... they put Annabel in Lenore's old room. Yeah, that must have been uncomfortable as shit. 
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Okay. This is something I kind of suspected in her first stolen moment at the Arboreum, but I think this confirms it for me: yes, Lenore teasing Annabel is a way of expressing annoyance without being directly hurtful. 
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Raise your hand if you enjoy seeing "Miss Proper Lady" lose her fucking temper. Bonus points if she deserves it. 
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Lenore, I don't know if taking your clothes off is the best way to get Annabel to stay on topic. I do want to emphasize her face in that moment, though, like she knows Annabel cares about her, but she's still angry at her, and pressuring her to drop the mask is literally the only way she has to express it. I like it because it's consistent with her stolen moment in the Arboreum. 
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"Admire this magnificent door made of door. Yes, an excellent door. Wonderful door. Eyes on the door, Annabel, eyes on the door and not on your crush taking off his jacket in front of you. Also, don't think too much about the fact that if anyone sees this, everything that is important to you will fall apart".  
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Pause. Where did we see Annabel say that? Ah, yes. Well, if we had any doubts about posh besties, this confirms it. 
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I want to linger on the faces of both of them in this scene because, for the love of Nyarlathotep, they are painful to watch knowing that this will end with both dead. 
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Yes, Annabel, this "perhabs" was very VERY serious. 
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I'm sure this is the second time in Annabel's life that someone has asked her if she wants something. And it's the same person. Ouch.
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Does anyone else in the squad find it disturbing that ANNABEL is concerned about moral issues? 
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That's not how Kabedons are made, missy. 
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LENORE, LOOK AT THE FUCKING FACE SHE'S LOOKING AT YOU WITH, SHE WOULDN'T BE "PRETENDING TO BE IN LOVE WITH YOU", SHE'S EATING OUT OF YOUR FUCKING HAND RIGHT NOW. IF SHE WASN'T AFRAID OF JAIL AND WASN'T SO VICTORIAN, SHE'D BE ASKING IF SHE COULD GET IN YOUR PANTS.   
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Okey, I need to know how this went from "pff, it's not a real marriage, we're both women!" to "I'm gonna fuckin' whore myself with Nyarlathotep Tumblrsexymen to come get you, baby. Shit, if these two die without having this conversation, I'm going to shoot myself in the mouth with a medieval arquebus. 
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I like this moment because it tells you two interesting things: one is that Annabel must have a complicated relationship with her father, she cares for him and maybe feels he loves her in his own way, but at the same time Ira is her jailer, the main culprit of the golden cage she's trapped in. Another thing: we know Lenore used to care about her father, but come on, after everything that happened, I doubt she gives the man a second thought. 
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...I wrote practically the exact same dialog in a fanfic. Actually, in the first Nevermore fanfic I ever wrote, when the fuck did my bullshit ever come true? 
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I was racking my brain for a while about why Annabel keeps doing this. Like, look at this shit, even Ada or Morella would be able to see that this is bullshit. And I think I have an idea why. 
I think Annabel started to figure out how to make this work even before she came in. Maybe she's not all in, but at least the idea is tempting. The thing is, she's putting a lot on the line here: her life, her relationship with her father (the only family member we know of), what little freedom she has.
And that means she has to put her chips on the right person. She knows how the social game works, she knows how to manipulate the stakes of her hand, maybe she even thinks she knows how to get around those pesky legal snags when they come up. 
But she's not cunning, she's not quick-thinking, she lacks determination, and she's definitely not brave. Lenore can wrap herself in big dreams and beautiful words all she wants, but if she can't make up for Annabel's weaknesses, it's a losing bet from the start. On top of that, she has to be able to read her: in Victorian engagements, even your pet was into that shit, so sneaking away to plan things would be more of a rare privilege than a constant, her playmate has to be able to understand her perfectly, because they can't waste valuable time explaining minutiae. They have to be on the same page to the millimeter. 
Annabel is a player. And as such, she knows that in games where you have a partner, the key to winning isn't playing your own cards or chips well, it's being able to synchronize with your partner to give each other better plays until one of you manages to win. 
And if I had to bet, I think that is the Lenore that Annabel wants back: the Lenore who can read her, the Lenore who can get under her skin and know her true intentions even when Annabel is wearing the most perfect mask. The Lenore who can smile boldly and tell her that everything will be all right. 
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Of course, Lenore passed the test. With a more than perfect score. 
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The chapter ends with Lenore giving Annabel the final decision: if she sees no reason to stay, she won't, and she can assure her that she'll be fine. But if she's in, she'll do everything in her power to make it work. 
This was the moment that tore me up inside because it made me drop the shingle of sad, sad shit. 
Conclusions
And here's why I decided to post this analysis after the season.  
One thing this episode told me was that I was wrong about one thing: the relationship between these two isn't exactly what it used to be. What this episode also told me was that, despite everything, the two of them seemed to be able to communicate and find common ground, to make deals, to give each other choices. Shit we don't see anymore in their time in Nevermore. 
And with good reason.
In Nevermore Annabel and Lenore are adrift. No memories, no identity, no bonds. As if that weren't enough, both are terrified: Annabel has built all her means of survival around a context that she masters perfectly, and in Nevermore she doesn't know what's going on; on the other hand, Lenore's bravery and cunning are qualities that turn from virtues to flaws in a context where every single one of her decisions has repercussions for the people around her; she's willing to take anything, but not what happens to the people she loves. 
These two idiots know only one thing: that they love each other. And for Annabel and Lenore, loving means protecting. They have to try to protect each other because they really love each other. They love each other so much that they can't.
Because the only way for Annabel to protect Lenore is to be the queen of the board, to be the piece that everyone wants to get out of the way because her presence is too much of an inconvenience, because if she's good at anything,  it's dazzling so hard that no one is able to really see her. On the other hand, the only place Lenore can protect Annabel is by her side, she won't have a Spectre, but she's willing to do what it takes to take care of her if she stays where she can fight for her. 
But that won't happen because of the irreconcilable conflict caused by the memory (false or not, in practice it doesn't matter) that the Deans showed Annabel. She can't tell her that, she won't tell her that, how could she? It would tear Lenore apart and at worst alter her memories. But on the other hand, Lenore obviously wants to know, because she sees that Annabel is suffering, she wants to be there, she wants her to let her comfort her, to be by her side to help her sort this out, and all her pleas fall on deaf ears for reasons she can't even fathom.
But without realizing it, in all this devotion and accompanying fear, Annabel and Lenore are repeating the same controlling patterns of those who tried to save the other in life. 
Annabel is doing the same thing Thaddeus did when he got Lenore a fiancé, the same thing the doctors did when they kept her drugged 24/7 as a treatment even though she was sick, dare I say the same thing Theo did: assuming she knows better than she does what's good for her. "Protecting" her, even when that happens to be the agency Lenore is desperately trying to have over her life after being deprived of her freedom.
And on the other hand...this.
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By taking full responsibility for what happened, Lenore is doing the same thing as Ira and all the people we meet in Annabel's life: denying her agency as an individual. Annabel is not a naive brat who was seduced by sweet words, she is a grown woman who was very, very clear about what the risks were. That they both ended up dead is partly her fault, but by turning this affair into "if I hadn't gone looking for you," Lenore completely invalidates Annabel's feelings, desires, and choices. 
A relationship that was once built on respect for choice and shared decision-making has now become a power game that neither can win, because one of the most important foundations of their relationship is that they are both equals. 
I'd like to end this on a more positive note, but...uh...well, the thing is, I don't. Like, that they're going to reconcile, they're going to reconcile, you know? But for that to happen, somebody's got to give them a massive punch like, something that tears them apart so they realize how fucking bad they are do-
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You know what? Yeah, that might do it.
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joeys-babe · 11 months ago
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Joey B Blurbs: Drive My Car
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Summary: You still haven't learned your lesson… and are back with a Joe prank! Now it's calling your poor husband to tell him about your discovery of “Christmas gas”.
Warnings: Fluff, slight illusion to smut
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine universe: Into The Mystic
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December 12th, 2023
I still don't know how Joe isn't tired of me and my tricks yet. After all of the pranks I've pulled on him I just keep finding more.
Bored in bed since Joe was gone, I found a prank I could do on him over the phone and immediately got down to business.
He was at his parent's house helping his mom build a new dresser like the amazing son he is while I stayed at home with Tyson and Miles. They weren't awake yet so I could put Joe on speaker while recording with his iPad.
After making my hair look decent I pulled Joe’s contact up and called him.
In usual amazing husband fashion, he answered in less than two rings.
“Hey Joey.” - you
“Hey, Mama. What's up? Do I need to step outside for this.” - Joe
Even though I loved Robin with my whole heart, I really didn't want her to think I was a ditz who thought diesel was “Christmas gas”.
“Uhm, yes.” - you
“Okay gimme a sec.” - Joe
A few moments later you could hear the back sliding door shut and Joe told you to keep going.
“Okay so the other day I saw this TikTok about this thing called Christmas gas and I wanted to try it. So I did. Now my car barely even got home and it was making a weird sound.” - you
“Baby… what? What the fuck is Christmas gas and where did you get it?” - Joe
“The gas station we always go to! It's just gas that's supposed to smell like pine wood for the holidays.” - you
I had to mute myself because I was dying laughing. Joe sighed and groaned out of pure annoyance before clearing his throat to speak.
“You actually put it in your car?” - Joe
“Mhm. Should I have not of?” - you
“I don't know, y/n! I've never heard of damn Santa gas or whatever the hell!” - Joe
“Christmas gas! It’s a limited edition!” - you
“Limited edition… baby why would they have limited edition gas?” - Joe
“I don't know. It was like three more dollars a gallon though and didn't even smell like pine wood.” - you
“Oh my god. y/n, was it coming from the green nozzle?” - Joe
“Yes! You have heard of it!” - you
“y/n, that's diesel babe! Did you put diesel in your car?” - Joe
“No, I put the Christmas gas in.” - you
“The green nozzle is diesel, y/n. That's why it was 3 more dollars than the regular gas, and why your car isn't working, because you put diesel in your gas car!” - Joe
“Are you sure? The gas station was decorated for Christmas and the green pump even had lights on it.” - you
“Yes, I'm sure! I'm gonna have to call the mechanic and take your car in when I get home later. Hopefully, your engine isn't ruined.” - Joe
“Is my car going to be ruined, Joey?” - you
“I don't know baby. You have to stop doing those stupid TikTok trends, y/n.” - Joe
“I’m sorry Joe. If my car’s ruined don't feel like you have to get it fixed.” - you
“That's BS. Imma get your damn car fixed. Just promise you won't do stuff like that till you run it by me because it might be a scam.” - Joe
“Okay, baby. I love you.” - you
“I love you too, just don't use your car till I get home. If you need to go somewhere before I do just take one of mine.” - Joe
“Thank you, just one more thing to tell you before you go.” - you
“Please tell me you didn't get your oil changed with reindeer piss.” - Joe
I busted out laughing and Joe giggled along with me, proud of how he was quick enough to make a funny joke.
“No! But… this was a prank.” - you
“Oh my god y/n! So your car is fine?” - Joe
“Yes. I haven't even left the house… or even the bed yet today.” - you
“Shit babe, you had me worried for a minute. Well, I'm gonna go. I love you.” - Joe
“I love you too! Kinda sad I won't get to see you play sexy mechanic though.” - you
“Pregnancy hormones?” - Joe chuckled
“They’re through the roof.” - you giggled
“I’ll help when I get home.” - Joe
I could practically hear his smirk in his lust-laced promise.
“Bye, Joey.” - you
“Bye, Mama. Don’t be buyin’ any gasoline from elves ya hear?” - Joe
“Yes, sir.” - you laughed and Joe hung up
That gorgeous man is a saint for putting up with me.
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Authors note: this is my favorite thing ever?! Saw this request in my inbox and IMMEDIATELY started writing.
Request for this fic;
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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago
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Part 6: Leaps of Faith
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7
I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)
(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst and Fluff
Words: 8.0K
TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3
April 2024 
“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow. 
“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest. 
If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens. 
“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly. 
“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression. 
Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”
“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”. 
“You hate trying new things.”
“I’ve grown up I guess.”
“Azzi.”
“Mom.”
“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”
“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it���s not meant to be.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully. 
“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”
Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week. 
“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”
Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings. 
“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”
“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”
“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look. 
“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”
“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”
“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.  
“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”
Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.
Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”
“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”
Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart. 
“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”
“Why do you need to?”
Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”
“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”
Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”
“What if you run away again?”
“Excuse me?” 
“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”
“I didn’t choose Zoe-”
“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”
“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”
“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.
“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”
“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”
“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”
***
The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.
One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe. 
And then Paige looks away. 
And Azzi’s back to struggling for air. 
It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together. 
Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times. 
And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige. 
“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”
A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams. 
“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome. 
It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get. 
As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere. 
Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words. 
“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin. 
“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this. 
“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”
Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”
“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”
She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too. 
“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”
“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”
Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith. 
“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically. 
“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back. 
“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow. 
“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”
“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”
Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever. 
“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against. 
“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”
“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”
“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”
And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home. 
***
July 2024 
The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly. 
There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough. 
Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing. 
“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”
“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”
“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit. 
“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”
Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”
“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too. 
He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”
“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle. 
“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”
Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer. 
“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”
“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter. 
Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”
“I don’t-”
“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied. 
“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”
Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”
“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”
“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe. 
“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed. 
“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”
Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room. 
“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”
Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”
She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place. 
“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.
“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.  
“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”
***
October 2024
Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough. 
“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings. 
“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”
“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly. 
If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand. 
“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe. 
“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”
Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”
“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again. 
“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance. 
“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”
“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship. 
“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”
“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”
Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”
***
“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”
Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically. 
“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”
And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.
“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose. 
“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”
***
Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away. 
“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”
“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?” 
“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically. 
“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”
“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”
“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”
“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale. 
“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”
“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige. 
“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand. 
The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp. 
“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”
Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”
“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever. 
Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks. 
Click. 
And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together. 
***
December 2024 
There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin. 
“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”
“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other. 
“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”
“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”
It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window. 
“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty. 
“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”
“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”
“Exactly. That’s exciting.”
“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile. 
“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.
“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”
“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”
Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious. 
“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand. 
“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”
And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other. 
“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”
And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi. 
“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”
They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them. 
***
April 2025
7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head. 
The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun. 
With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship. 
Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles. 
As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life. 
Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde. 
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 
A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”
Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm. 
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it. 
“Say it again,” Paige demands. 
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”
“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. 
And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.
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hannieehaee · 1 year ago
Text
18+ / mdi
a member finding your nudes - 96 line
95 line, 96 line, 97 line, maknae line
wc: 1818
masterlist
jun -
jun was extremely close to all seventeen members, considering them all basically his blood brothers. although he felt this special connection to all of them, he couldnt help but feel a little extra close to minghao, sharing a language with him and being able to speak to him as freely as possible. this special sense of closeness between them allowed jun to come to minghao for advice whenever he wanted to edit a special vlog for carats, trusting his artistic advice more than anyone else.
as the two sat next to one another and fiddled with jun's phone, a notification from you arrived. on pure accident, minghao's fingers tapped the top of the screen just as the notification arrived, causing the text bubble to open up in the imessage app. unfortunately for jun, this was not one of the usual light-hearted and sweet messages you'd usually send him while he was away at the company.
no, this was a picture of you, fully nude, with a text attached asking him to hurry home and take care of you.
minghao was not an easy man to fluster, but jun had now come to find out that if he ever wanted to make the younger blush, your nude body would do just fine to get the job done. although embarrassed at the accidental intrusion, jun couldnt help but feel a sense of pride at minghao's reaction, knowing that his pretty girlfriend not only had such an effect on himself, but seemingly even on the stoic man sitting by his side.
this pride was short-lived, however, as the bashfulness grew in him, heating up at both the implications of your message and at the awkward conversation that would now follow between him and his friend.
"i- sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to say. he gently took the phone from his hands and put it in his back pocket, "i-"
"dont say anything. i'm .. i'm just gonna go," replied hao in a strained voice, hurriedly exiting the room and wondering how he would ever make eye contact with jun's pretty girl from now on.
soonyoung -
many thought that soonyoung was a little air-headed at times. it wasnt that he was dumb, no, he was actually quite smart, but he occasionally tended to let his actions come before allowing himself a chance to think.
this was one of those many instances.
due to some delays at the venue in which seventeen was currently promoting their new comeback at, the thirteen members were asked to wait in the changing/waiting room as the venue's staff figured out the issues preventing them from continuing the show as usual.
sitting between seokmin and seungkwan, soonyoung decided this might be the best time to take some pictures, considering that he was dressed up and had his hair and makeup all done. better now than after performing, when he would be all sweaty and disheveled, right? he, however, did not have his usual instagram phone on him, so he opted to use his personal one for the photos, reasoning that he could just send them to himself later.
he signaled for dokyeom's help, handing him his phone and finding a place to do his classic leaned back, hand in pocket pose, showing off his pretty outfit. after a few shots, both members sat back down and soonyoung looked at the photos, wondering which ones carats would like best. as he swiped through the dozens of new shots, he leaned back and allowed seungkwan and dokyeom to look at the images and even comment on which were best.
having completely forgotten that this was his personal phone, hoshi made the grave mistake of swiping one too many times, landing himself on a pretty picture you had just sent him the previous night. if it had been a regular picture, it wouldve simply earned an 'aw' from seungkwan and dokyeom, and maybe even an 'aigoo' from jeoghan who was now standing behind the couch looking over his shoulder. this picture, however, was not your average picture. this image showcased you laying on your side, boobs pressed together under the thin sheer fabric of baby blue lingerie that gave the perfect view of your nipples through the fabric.
okay, it couldve been worse. it couldve been an entirely nude pic, but despite the level of explicitness of the picture, soonyoung immediately panicked. in a frantic state, he attempted to exit out of the image, only to accidentally open up the photos app, where the miniatures of the many other nudes you had sent him that night stared back at him and his group mates. as a last desperate resort, soonyoung decided to just switch his phone off and flip it around just for good measure.
across the room, mingyu stared in curiosity at the scene, seeing four of his group mates with widened eyes. jeonghan held a shocked, but satisfied smirk, while seungkwan looked as scandalized as ever. hoshi and dokyeom shared a similar pale look as if theyd seen a ghost, making mingyu wonder what theyd just seen.
hoshi had never felt more flustered in his life (and that was saying something), fearing the stern scolding he would receive from seungcheol and from you for being careless enough to use his personal phone and accidentally exposing his girlfriend to his unsuspecting members.
wonwoo -
wonwoo always saw chan as a little brother. someone who could do no wrong in his eyes. which is why he trusted him with basically everything. he mightve been a few years younger, but wonwoo always thought of him as responsible and respected him as much as he would someone his age, trusting him with his belongings, even.
having a short dance break together in the most recent comeback, chan and wonwoo decided to arrive to practice earlier in order to get in tune with each other and not take up any designated rehearsal time for the group as a whole. a little over an hour had already gone by, leaving both members sweaty and in need of a break. while wonwoo dabbed away his sweat, chan sat down for a bit, going on his phone. that was when wonwoo's phone started to chime, short breaks between each vibration of the phone, signaling multiple messages.
"check that for me, will you?", said wonwoo absentmindedly, walking in the other direction to retrieve a water bottle from nearby.
chan followed his senior's orders without thinking too much of it, unlocking his phone and swiping up. he assumed itd be one of the other members or maybe wonwoo's dad checking in. what he didnt expect, however, was a row of messages from wonwoo's girlfriend, with a pretty ... explicit picture attached to it.
nonuuuu
you left without saying goodbye :((
shouldve waken me up, i couldve given u a little something ;)
*two picture attachments*
im aching for u :((( gonna miss u all day now :c'
the pictures detailed almost the entirety of your naked body, pretty tits being groped by your hands while you wore soft pink (was that silk ..?) panties. despite not wanting to disrespect wonwoo or his girlfriend, chan gulped, unable to take his eyes away from the messages.
".. chan? chan!"
chan's attention finally diverted from the small screen in his hands.
"who is it?"
"oh, i ... its just. uh, its your girlfriend," he stutters, extending wonwoo's phone out to him, fearing for his reaction.
wonwoo finally took a look at his messages, eyes widening, instantly putting it away as if it had burned him, "oh. just .. ignore that. it's not .. uhh, okay, anyways. we should get back to practicing," wonwoo tried to salvage the awkward situation without further embarrassing chan or his girlfriend or himself.
the two stood there awkwardly trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and the arousal you had inadvertently caused the two of them), thanking god at the timing of the rest of the members who were now finally walking in to join them.
"what's up," said an unsuspecting mingyu as he walked towards them, ready to rehearse.
jihoon -
soonyoung had the tendency of dropping by jihoon's studio unannounced pretty often. many of those times would be while jihoon himself was away. why jihoon gave hoshi the passcode to his studio, he didnt know, but it was now all said and done and there wasnt much he could do about it anymore. dont get him wrong, he enjoyed having his friend visit, but he also desired some alone time while working.
today was one of the many instances in which jihoon had to step out, leaving his studio locked, not thinking anyone would walk in in his absence. soonyoung, however, had different plans. as per usual, whenever the day seemed to slow down for him, soonyoung would waltz into woozi's universe factory and hang out while he watched him work, with today being one of those days.
he didnt pay much mind to jihoon's absence as he laid back on the couch and went on his phone while waiting for his friend's return. he stayed like this for a few minutes until he heard the chime of jihoon's phone on his desk. he ignored it, not being too interested by it. then the chime repeated. once. twice. three times. four, five, over the next few minutes. okay, now that caught his attention. being so close to jihoon, soonyoung didnt consider this snooping, reasoning that this was his best friend. what could there possibly be on his phone that he couldnt check simply out of sheer curiosity? thats when he made his first mistake.
he picked up his phone, tapping in jihoon's password and swiped up on the messages without thinking much of it. that's when he made his second mistake. his eyes widened like saucers at the messages in front of him, even more so at the image attached to it. what he was now seeing was a picture of you, shirtless and pushing your tits up while making a kissy face at the camera.
jihoonieeee
are u still at the studio ??'
*image attachment*
dont u wanna come see me? ill make it worth ur while <3'
hoshi made his third mistake of the day when he unconsciously decided to keep his eyes glued to the phone, failing to notice the arrival of his friend, who immediately took note of his phone in the hands of someone who wasnt its owner.
"soonyoung what the hell are you- HUH?", jihoon didnt even have a chance to finish his sentence before interrupting himself upon taking a look at what seemingly had his senior in a trance. "GIVE ME THAT! what are you doing?! get out!" he hissed as he physically pushed his friend out of the room, locking it as he muttered in annoyance at his nosy friend.
still in a trance, hoshi found himself dumbfounded, standing alone in the hallway, now having a totally different perception of jihoon's pretty girlfriend.
a/n: not proofread!! will get to 97 and maknae line soon i promise T-T
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dreamofbetterthings · 6 months ago
Text
No Regrets Noah Sebastian x Reader
Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."
VIP: Noah Sebastian
Band: Ban Omens
Summary: There's no such thing as a "calm" Halloween night, especially when hidden feelings are involved.
Warnings: It's gonna be a little spicy, but not full-on smut. Still, this is 18+ due to descriptive language and some curse words scattered about, so minors, please DNI. 
A/N
Hello everybody! I'm sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth. I have an abundance of things going on in my personal life and I am trying my hardest to get through it all. I know in the last post I said chapter 3 of It's Been A Long, Long Time was coming soon. That wasn't a lie. It is still in the process of being edited. I'm working on a new uploading schedule for you guys, and a page redesign as well so if everything pans out the way I'm hoping, it will be put into effect starting next week. In the meantime, I have a couple of stories I'm planning on getting out before Chapter 3 gets released. This turned out a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, but I had an idea and ran with it. I've never written for Bad Omens before, so let me know what you think. Enjoy!
This is a fictional story about real-life people. Nothing that is mentioned in the story below represents who said individuals are, or how they act in real life.
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Halloween night was always your favorite time to be around certain people, specifically the friends you called Motionless in White and Bad Omens. There was always something up their sleeve to turn the normal night into one that you weren't sure you wanted to remember in the morning. Luckily, tonight was the annual hangout at Chris' house this year, and you couldn't be more excited. Every year you all would get together at someone's house and pass out candy to the kids, then watch a couple of movies after the last stragglers came through. After that, came your favorite part of the night, Hide and Seek. It might seem childish, but watching a bunch of tipsy/drunk people try to stay quiet in a hiding spot was always hilarious.
 You were making another batch of popcorn when Chris walked into the kitchen. "Hey, we just put on The Lost Boys, just thought I'd let you know." You smile. "I'm not surprised. That's almost everybody's favorite." He laughs and grabs another bowl from the cabinet. "I know, that's why we put it on first, so nobody can complain about it later." The timer on the microwave went off signaling that the popcorn was finished, and you carefully took the bag out. You gave Chris the cooling-down bag and picked back up the one you set on the counter before he walked in. After emptying them and grabbing extra napkins, Chris brought the popcorn out to your friends who were talking through muffled and hushed whispers. Before you walked back into the room, he pulled you back for a second to whisper something in your ear. "I pulled the seeker for tonight. Unfortunately, it wasn't you. Maybe next year." You pout and then smile "Fuck, I'm never going to get picked." He laughs as you glanced around at everybody scattered in the room. 
Ryan sat with Justin on the loveseat. Folio was a drama queen and insisted he get his own seat. Nicholas, Vinny, and a few other of your friends, Florence, Nicole, Victoria, and Robert who were invited sat around the coffee table on the floor. Ricky, Jolly, and Noah were on the couch. Then, you and Chris got the two giant bean bags in the corner. The lights were changed to red and the TV just started the opening credits to The Lost Boys. You and Chris give the popcorn to Ricky and Nicholas respectively, everybody else having their own mostly full bowls, and grab your drinks before plopping back down on the bean bags. Folio rubs his hands together and smiles. "Now that our final two goofballs are here, who's ready to watch one of the best horror movies ever made?" Everybody gives some form of yes or a holler, and he immediately turns the volume up. As the movie plays, there is a small conversation here and there, and occasionally someone has to get up for a new drink, but you are relaxed and having fun. 
At about the halfway point of the movie, Noah gets up to get another drink from the fridge. On his way back, Jolly scares him, causing his wine to spill all over the floor and your sweatpants. "Jesus man!" The movie is paused and everyone's attention is on you guys. Jolly laughs and puts his hands up in defense. "Sorry dude, I had to scare you at least once today." He turns to look at you. "Didn't mean to ruin your sweatpants though, my bad." You wave him off. "It's no big deal, these were old anyway. You guys can keep the movie playing. I'm just gonna change into different pants real quick." You take a sip of your drink and get up from your spot to go upstairs. 
After finding your weekend bag, you huff as the extra sweatpants are nowhere to be found. Instead, you pull out a pair of spandex volleyball shorts and go to the bathroom. Noah hears the sink running upstairs as he's cleaning up the accidental mess he made by your spot. He throws the paper towels away and before he gets to the stairs, Chris quietly asks "You good?" He nods, telling the other singer he's going to make sure you're okay, and heads to your bathroom. He knocks a few times and after a couple of seconds, the sink cuts off and you open the door. You were expecting one of your girlfriends to be standing there, but instead, it's Noah. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'm sorry about spilling on your sweats. I hope I didn't ruin them." Holding up the pants, you show him where the stain had previously been. "If these sweats can make it through one of your tours, they can certainly handle a little bit of wine. I just didn't want them to stain, since you drink the darker stuff." He chuckles and follows you back into the bedroom. 
You grab your shorts and get ready to put them on, but Noah points to your leg. "I didn't know you had a thigh tattoo." You glance at it and glance at him confused. "Really? I got it a while ago. I could've sworn I showed you when I got it done. Then again, I'm always in longer shorts, so it's not exactly easy to see." Setting them down, you turn to the side and pull part of your underwear band up, showing the last covered part of the tattoo. Looking up at Noah, you can see he's staring, but there's something else behind his eyes. Just not sure what it is though. You don't flinch when he reaches his hand out, but your skin gets goosebumps as his fingers ever so lightly trace over the ink on your leg. Everybody that came over tonight had seen each other in their undergarments or even completely nude before, whether by accident or on purpose. Hell, you've walked in on him changing plenty of times. 
So why did the room suddenly feel hot? 
It could be that you've had a crush on the man since you were kids. There wasn't anything not to like. His personality just made you want to be around him all the time. He's sweet and kind, and has a terrible sense of humor that only you two get. You could go on and on. He was just an all-around amazing person. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you missed the hand that was snapping in front of your face. "Hello? Are you there?" Coming back to reality, you saw Noah looking down at you with curiosity. You quickly apologized and asked him to repeat what he said. "I said it looks amazing on you. The placement is perfect and it works great with the curves of your leg." You thank him and can't help but notice just how close he's standing to you. There's a tense silence for a couple of moments, and neither of you moves from your spot. You glanced at his eyes, then his lips, but immediately looked away. 
It felt like you were a school girl again, talking to the guy you've had a crush on for ages. You heard him mumble a "Fuck it" before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. They were soft and tasted like wine, courtesy of the drink that led you here in the first place. You felt his hand move to rest against your cheek. His lips were gentle, almost as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it would never happen again. When the two of you finally pulled away for air, your eyes remained closed for a moment, before slowly opening them and meeting Noah's. The two of you looked at each other in pure awe before you let out a small "Woah" He laughed, and you looked down, feeling your cheeks become hot.
The thought of you being so flustered made him blush too. How was it possible for someone to be this cute? Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you almost couldn't comprehend what just happened. "You know, for someone that always complained he was a terrible kisser, that was uh, really impressive." He could feel you now completely relaxed against him and he laughed a little, slightly embarrassed. "I'd say that I've had practice, but you already know my teddy bear in fifth grade doesn't count." The two of you laugh. Remembering his hand resting on your cheek, you look away and take a small step back. "I think we should get back to the movie. It's gotta be almost over by now, and I don't want them to yell at us for taking too long." He let out an uncomfortable laugh and muttered a "Yeah." 
You never noticed but Noah frowned slightly when you pulled away from him. He felt so comfortable being that close to you. As you turned to the door he realized something. He really liked you and didn't want this to be just a one-time thing, especially if it was going to make things weird between you afterward. He picks himself out of his thoughts just as you open the door. He walks across the room, taking your hand and silently closing the door. Standing there surprised, you ask him, "Are you okay?" It was now or never he told himself. "I'm sorry, I just..." He takes a breath before continuing. "I really want to kiss you again." You stand there just as surprised but decide to see just how far this could possibly go. "What's the problem then?" He lets go of your hand and brings his own up to hold your face. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers. 
"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." 
He obviously likes you, right? But this is your best friend. You've known each other for years. If he did like you this much, he would've told you by now, right? You two have been affectionate towards each other before, but there's a line neither of you dared to cross. If you crossed it now, you would rather do it with no regrets. It was better than wondering what could have been. "What if I don't want you to stop?" Noah tilts your head so you're looking him in the eyes. 
"Then I won't." 
He pushes his lips against you again, this time with newfound hunger. His hands fall and grab at your waist while yours go around his neck. Your feet follow his backward and you hit the edge of the bed. He pulls you down to sit on his lap, completely forgetting your lack of pants while he pushes himself further back on the bed. His tongue runs across your bottom lip and you open your mouth allowing him in. Your hands gently tug at the now-cut-short hair on the back of his neck and he grabs at your hip hard enough to leave bruises before pulling you even closer to him. Shifting your weight a little, your lower half sits directly on his hardening cock and he groans into your mouth. He pulls his lips away only for them to move down your neck. You tug at his hair a little harder and he sucks at the tender skin that connects your neck and shoulder. A moan leaves your lips and you mindlessly grind down against him. There was nothing that could prepare you for how right this felt. Like you were seeing a whole different side of him, hidden from the outside world, and for your eyes only.
Noah moved to whisper in your ear. "Quiet baby, wouldn't want everybody to hear us, hmm?" You shake your head no, but it doesn't matter as he kisses you again. "Hey, are you guys-OH MY GOD!" The bedroom door opens to see a shocked Chris looking at the two of you. Noah pulls away from your mouth, and the two of you look like deer in headlights. "I'm going to go... quickly." Chris walks away, before coming back and closing the door. You and Noah make eye contact for a split second, before the two of you look away, slightly embarrassed that you were caught. "Maybe we should go back before someone comes in again." He clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea." Carefully getting off of him, you stand up and let him off the bed. You both straighten out your respective clothes, and you finally put on those shorts. 
"Are you alright?" He nods and you get ready to walk toward the door. Noah runs his fingers through his hair. "Um, Before we go, I just wanted to ask...You don't regret any of what just happened, right?" You immediately shake your head no, slightly frowning. Maybe this was all a big mistake. "Not at all. Why? Do you?" He smiles and also shakes his head no before taking your hand in his. "Nope. No regrets." A smile replaces the frown on your face. You ask "Are you ready for them to never let us live this down?" He laughs and glances at the door. "That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me." Giving him a nod, he opens the door and the two of you walk back into the living room where the rest of your friend group is talking amongst themselves. When they hear you guys walk in, it gets silent. Noah lets go of your hand so you can sit down first, and then goes to his spot on the couch. 
Nobody said anything for the first couple of moments before Chris broke the silence. "You guys fucked in my spare bedroom..." Instantly you and Noah sat up and shook your heads. Your voice and his overlapped and both of you tried to tell your friends that technically nothing happened. Once the two of you were finished explaining, the room was silent for another couple of moments before anyone spoke. The silence was starting to make you uncomfortable, but before you could say or do anything, Ryan threw his hands up and yelled. "Fucking finally!" This breaks the tension in the room and everybody starts laughing and giving you and Noah happy looks. You even saw a couple of people passing money around. Those fuckers bet on you and Noah getting together. When the commotion has died down, another movie has started, and everybody turns their attention to the TV. As you focus your attention on the screen, your phone buzzes, and you pick it up. 
Noah
"I was thinking later we could finish what we started in the spare bedroom?"
You smile at your phone and quickly respond before setting it down.
"Well, we're still playing Hide and Seek after the movie. I'm once again not the seeker, lol. If it happens to be you, don't go easy on me. Depending on how the rest of the night plays out, you might get your wish ;)"
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Noah readjust himself in his seat. He sends back a text almost instantly, and goosebumps litter your skin again as you read his last text.
Noah
"Oh, I won't. I like the hunt."
Nope, no regrets.
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