#he is going to have to confide in someone for this... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kumasakka · 2 days ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓 ! ❞

　at some point you just seem desperate to get his attention — so you decided to boost your confidence with your best outfit, even catching the attention by the people you’re surrounded by while walking past. ( based on the song MINISKIRT by AOA.

ft. iglesias bunny , itoshi sae , michel kaiser , itoshi sae.

content. 3.3k words , slightly suggestive , fluff , insecurity , jealousy (you’re the jealous one) , situation ship (in sae’s one) , kind of toxic (in bunny’s and michael’s one) , up to 0.5-0.6k per drabble (bunny’s and sae’s), up to 0.8-1.0k words per drabble (michael’s and rin’s) , crappy writing. cringe. credits for dividers @/dollywons !!

authors’s note. ahhhh rin’s part is so much more longer than the others TT BYE? I JUST NOTICED Y/N ISN’T EVEN WEARING A MINISKIRT IN BUNNY’S PART…

IGLESIAS BUNNY.

　MAKING you smile was never his goal or intention. He wanted to see everything else but you smiling. He doesn't want you to enjoy your life to the fullest, he doesn't want to watch you live your life so freely without him.

And knowing that you had feelings for him, he started to be a little bit of an asshole. How? By giving you less and less attention to feed his growing fanbase (as if it wasn't large enough) the attention — the attention you deserved.

Don't misunderstand his actions wrong. After all you two aren't friends, you two are dating so don't worry. He would never cheat on you. The only problem is that you two aren't official, since you two don't want to deal with the media. So of course people think you're just friends.

Honestly speaking, you'd rather get bothered by social media, rather than him acting like a single man(whore). Of course you noticed how busy he started to get lately and even had the audacity to reply some fan mails! During your stay-at-home dates.

Your eyes that look at me. It's not the same as before.

Pulling the bag closer to your hip, you walked towards your seat with your head held high — showing absolute perfection with every step taken. Perhaps you were a goddess walking down the floor as if it was built for her.

Yes, probably.

"There you are." his gaze followed you through the reflections in the window and his head slowly turned to you.

But why do you look at me like I'm a worn-out shoe?

"I apologise for making you wait." you politely nodded your head as a waiter pulled the chair back for you. "Thanks."

I'm so pretty whatever I wear.

His eyes glided down your figure, taking in the sight in front of him as you sat down. You wore an off-shoulder bodycon dress, radiating a soft glow almost with the lights of the chandelier above you.

Everything else was covered though because you wore a matching cropped blazer over your shoulder, preventing everyone else to see more than your neck and collarbone.

I'm so sexy, even if I don't show skin.

"What are you going to eat..?" you asked carefully, eyes glued to the menu.

Underneath the calm and collected mask was a helpless, panicking and lost girl. The stares you received from the restaurant was making you feel a little pressured and sweat. At some point you felt like you were getting undressed by those eyes.

Nevertheless, you could swear they were fancier than you by miles! Richer and better dressed.

"Actually, I'm not hungry." he snapped you out of your thoughts as he sent you a fake smile. "Eat whatever you want, I'll pay."

"Oh..." you trailed off, sounding a little awkward after that.

That hoe invited you to dine out, but now he's pulling this move?

"If I’m being honest… I have to admit the same, I'm not hungry." you returned the same fake smile, placing a leg over the other and accidentally hitting his leg under the table.

"Really?" he acted surprised, a chuckle leaving his lips.

That's what he wanted to see, a fake smile.

"Excuse me?" someone spoke up, making your heads turn. "You two aren't dating, right?"

"Dating..?" you blinked in surprise, eyes slowly glancing to your partner, "No, we aren't dating. Just friends."

"Ah..!" the girl's eyes lit up at that and got her phone out. "Then, can I get your number?"

"O-Oh!" you stuttered, about to close your eyes because she was as blinding as light. "Actually—"

"She is currently seeing someone though." the male stood up from his chair and walked up to your side. "Sorry to crush your hopes."

"Really? But you aren’t the one, right?" the girl took a hesitant step back.

"Nah..." he smiled, suddenly pulling you up from your seat. His arms finding itself behind your back and under your knees, carrying you bridal-style.

"Let me down!" you cried out. "This is kidnapping..!"

"Dove, we're in public." he whispered as he sighed out.

"Help..!" you looked over his shoulder, back to the gorgeous girl who was left confused. "My number is 7xx—"

"Pshhhh."

ARE YOU A COUPLE NOW OR?

ITOSHI SAE.

　SEEING your friend surrounded by fans and also fangirls, wasn't the most pleasant sights for you. Of course, you have seen worse than this but you still can't help but feel a little jealous when they get so much more attention. (He doesn’t even look at them)

But again, Sae and you are well — it's very complicated between you actually. You two are definitely more than friends but also less than lovers. Others may call it a situation ship. Yet, is it one though?

Yes, actually yeah. You can't deny it yourself.

The feeling of warmth and joy always blooms in your stomach whenever you get even the smallest amount of his attention. You also can’t deny that you have feelings for him. Nevertheless, you aren't sure if he feels the same for you though!

At the end you aren't sure or confident that something will spark between you two if you did confess. On the other hand, your pride doesn't let you confess — because well. Your parents taught you it should be the other way around. Yeah…

Risky high heels, black stockings.

"Sae, I wondered where you were. I was waiting for your message like some kind of idiot.”

You won't be able to take your eyes off me.

People were staring at you, boys and girls. You walked past all of them, each step taken with confidence as if you were walking down the red carpet. The girl in all her glory, a shine almost incomparable to others.

When I wear a miniskirt. And walk down the street, everyone looks at me.

Most importantly Itoshi Sae was staring at you. Though, his expression blank and his teal eyes blinking a few times. His face was unchanged, just his usual stoic facial expression. You may say that he was unfazed by your outfit.

But why are you the only one who doesn't know?

"[name], sorry for making you wait." he apologised briefly, sounding so dry while doing so.

"Look at you, enjoying all the attention." you whispered. Almost — almost about to huff loudly in annoyance and maybe even desperation. "Let's go."

"Sure." he didn't even look back to the group of fans, turning his back to them to walk beside you.

"Holy— Don't tell me that's his fucking girlfriend..?"

"I failed as a girl. I didn't know he had a girlfriend!?"

"Why simp for him, when we just can worship her lol?"

"Back the fuck off..."

"Get in." he opened the door to his car for you like the gentleman he is.

"Thanks..." you muttered out and sat down on the passenger seat as you cursed yourself inwardly and wanted to rip your hair out. Did you seriously thought he would care an ounce for your stupid outfit? Well now you know.

"Here." as soon as he closed the door on his side, he threw his jacket over your lap, not minding enough to even glance into your direction. "Isn't it cold?"

It's summer.

"No." it's literally so hot, you stiffly answered and were about to give him back his jacket.

"Take it." he demanded, starting the car.

"But—"

"Take it." the audacity to interrupt you.

You knitted your eyebrows in annoyance and adjusted it on your lap before opening the window to let fresh air in. But Itoshi fucking Sae had different plans again.

"H-Hey!" you let out, immediately turning your head to him.

"Don't want anyone to see me." he answered, closing the tinted car window on your side again.

Oh you were about to jump this mother—

But if you only knew how hard he was fighting the urge to just slam his head against the wheel.

NO ONE SHOULD SEE YOU BUT HIM.

KAISER MICHAEL.

　JUST like Michael Kaiser, you too are confident with yourself. Your ego may not reach his, but you two know how headstrong you can be — how stubborn you can be.

That's also the reason why you two often struggle to communicate properly, not owning the right pride to speak up after a fight. Why should you try to solve everything when he made the mistake?

And if you two want the same thing? Oh boy, you are fighting over it like siblings would. In your weird relationship, you two act like friends, fight like siblings and love like a (strange) couple.

Honestly speaking, you can't believe you two have been together for over a year. Like with each month, it comes with each problem which ends in complete silence. And you decided to not talk about it unless the other starts.

How do you still communicate without a word?

"Alexis, tell this..." you stopped yourself from cursing, "this man to get over his ego and apologise.”

"Alright..." the poor poor boy answered as he walked out of your room to enter Kaiser's.

Mind you, you two live in the same house and share the same bedroom. But whenever there is a problem, he sleeps in the guest bedroom — the guest bedroom that is two doors away.

"He didn't answer and ushered me to go away." alexis came back and tried to put on a smile.

You only ignore me, I don't know where I'll bounce off to.

"Ah... Thanks." you answered, eventually turning to your friend with a frown. Maybe a sulk?

That's the downside for Alexis Ness when he's friends with both of you. Yes, he may be more loyal to Michael but at the end, he doesn't want you two to break up because that's the happiest Michael has ever been.

You don't know it and surely, Michael doesn’t realise it. But Alexis can swear on his whole life that without you, Michael would be not him and all of his struggles return to the starting point again. (The fake ego and all).

"Is there another message you want me to bring over?" Alexis questioned curiously, watching how you painted your nails.

I make time to get my nails done,

"No..." you breathed out and tried to perfect your skills, "sit down next to me."

"Yes, ma'am." he walked towards you, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your desk.

"I can't believe he's being such an asshole." you let out frustrated and put your finger tips into ice-cold water to fasten the drying process.

"Yeah..." Alexis was about to sigh out yet he held himself back. "How about... you put an end to this and speak up first...?"

"Alexis." you warned, immediately turning your head to glare at him.

"Alright." he sealed his lips again and kept you silent company.

"Whatever…” you rolled your eyes as soon as the nail polish dried. "Today, I'm trying out a new hairstyle."

"Oh? Which one?"

"You'll see." you send him a quick smile before getting your brush.

and change my hair.

It took a while for your hair — trying to brush out all knots and style it like the perfectionist you are. It took real long actually, so long that Alexis was about to fall asleep. But you just had to perfect your hairstyle. Despite the hellish pain.

How does the saying go? Whoever wants to be beautiful, must suffer.

"Get out." you ushered the boy to leave for privacy, pushing him out of the room.

"Of course..." he muttered and closed the door behind him.

I wear new shoes and wear a miniskirt but you don't notice.

"How do I look?" the door opened again, revealing a pretty woman with a confident grin.

"Good. Too good." he blinked in awe, taking in the sight of you. "Where are you going?"

"Out to meet a friend." you answered, walking down the stairs with a bag dangling off your shoulder. "A male friend!"

Extra loud for your supposed boyfriend.

Why are you so indifferent?

But there was no answer, just silence and Alexis' comforting smile. "Have fun." he wished you as you put on high heels. "Should I accompany you there?"

"No need. I can take care of myself!" to be honest, Alexis was fearing that you'd get drown by people, who asking for your number. With those looks? Looks that didn't come from earth? He’s sure you’ll get kidnapped at this point.

Before other wolves snatch me away,

"Okay, take care of that baby." you smiled at Alexis, taking your keys and opening the door.

Pay attention boy.

Yet it quickly got slammed shut with a loud thud, leaving you and Alexis startled. You flinched slightly as Michael grasped your wrist and pulled you closer — so you would face him properly.

"Where do you think you're going with this outfit?" he was close, almost too close.

"C-Café?" you stuttered in surprise, blinking.

"With me?” he chuckled slowly, “yeah no. Cancel those plans, idiot." he rolled his eyes and roughly grabbed the back of your neck — lip's colliding hard as if two worlds met.

"Oh well..." Alexis didn't hesitate to leave the house, giving you some privacy.

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR WORDS WHEN HE ACTED.

ITOSHI RIN.

　AS much as you love Itoshi Rin, who was literally your boyfriend, there are moments where you seriously want to strangle him the life out of him and give him a part of your senses.

It's not his fault. It's just — It’s his first relationship (clearly) and you're here to guide him. Remind yourself, no one is perfect at the first try even if it's the crazy soccer prodigy of blue lock.

You aren't too sure what happened in that prison called blue lock, but it can't be that his phone got taken away during those weeks. You doubt it. You called him hundreds of times and messaged him thousands of times (with no reply though).

Did he forget you? Or was this all an excuse so he can get away from you? Maybe you were being too pushy with him, maybe you forced your feelings onto him. Maybe, maybe...

Nevertheless, you taught him to communicate with you properly if he had a problem. Because in a relationship, communication is the main key and nothing else.

I'm getting more and more tired.

You stared at your own message — which said that he should meet you at that one spot. The one spot where you decided to intertwine your fates and seal them together.

"There he goes! Oliver Aiku blocking the way for Blue lock's ten!" the reporter screamed into the mic.

Yes, you were watching the U-20 match you missed yesterday — you weren’t aware of the existence of that match until a friend told you. A friend, not Rin.

"Blue lock's ten? He has a name..!" you huffed in annoyance and leaned against the cold stone. "His name is I - to - shi Rin!"

"Will he shoot!? Will he!? It seems like his dominant foot is his right one! He cannot shoot yet!" the man speculated.

"Of course he will." you puffed out your cheeks, gripping your phone tightly.

"And!? And— HE SHOT THE BALL! WE'RE FORTY MINUTES INTO THE FIRST HALF AND WITH THIS GOAL FROM ITOSHI RIN..!" the dude screamed, excited himself as he continued, "THE BLUE LOCK ELEVEN ARE IN THE LEAD 2-1!"

The crowd cheered loudly as your boyfriend raised his fist, celebrating his goal on his own. A bright smile painted your features as you watched the screen excited. “Of course he’d scored..!" you whispered under your breath.

He looks happy. Very happy. And to be frank, you've never seen him happier, not even in your relationship. But what do you expect? It's been a few months since you got together. You can't expect too much yet.

"Pardon me, miss." you flinched as soon as someone spoke up.

"...Yes?" you held your phone close to your racing heart.

"Is this yours?" the boy questioned, raising a handkerchief from the floor.

"Oh yes..!" you nodded and closed your phone, recognising the personal handkerchief you made for Rin. "Thank you, I didn't notice that it fell out of my coat."

With gratitude you bowed slightly and took the gift back, pocketing it in your beige trench coat which covered your whole body. If your mom didn't force you to take it, you probably would've died or killed yourself. It depends.

First of all, it was super cold. And second of all, your outfit was a bit too daring. But you prettied yourself up for your boyfriend, so you couldn't help yourself! On the other hand, you expected too much. He probably didn't even read the message.

"—Just a few moments ago, I heard the U-20 match." the male continued.

"O-Oh..! Yes." you stuttered, which was clearly out of surprise. You seriously expected him to make his merry way back to wherever he came from.

"You watch soccer?" the guy asked curiously, leaning on the stone next to you — luckily, not too close.

"Mhm, but I'm not the biggest fan of soccer." you sweat dropped, about to move away from the guy.

He was really kind. It was just kind of obvious that he wanted something from you. But because you have a boyfriend, you have to reject him respectfully.

"Ah! I'm Uzui Arata by the way. Nice to meet you..?" he introduced himself, and that'd be the point where you reject him.

"Nice to meet you but—"

"I'm her boyfriend." someone interrupted you, your heads turning to the male.

"Ah, Rin!" you blinked in surprise.

"Oh my god!? Aren't you Blue lock's ten!?" the male beside you already forgot about you and jumped up with glimmering eyes.

"Yeah, and?" your boyfriend stared at the stranger.

"I'm a big fan after that match! Your name is Itoshi Rin, right!? Can I get your autograph?"

"Would that make you go away?"

"Of course, yes!"

From nowhere, the male pulled put a pen and a piece of a paper for Rin to sign. "Thank you so much..!" he thanked him enthusiastically before taking out his phone, "is it possible if I get a picture too?"

"No." Rin rejected him briefly.

Even your eyes that look at me, why is it so cold?

"He means yes." you nudged his arm as you corrected him, ignoring how his eyes coldly was digging into your soul.

I don't know.

You send him a smile despite the glare, trying to cheer him and yourself up with the smile. "I can make the picture." you offered, accepting the phone as you stepped back to take the desired photo.

But it'll change now.

"Three... Two... One. Say cheese!" you clicked the button multiple times.

"Oh my— Thank you so so so much!" the fan bowed slightly, taking back the phone and making his merry way back to home, probably showing off the signature and the picture.

I'm a confident girl,

"Hey." you started off slowly, the smile faltering slightly as you faced him. You were nervous. Nervous as hell that he wants to break up with you or anything. Your cheeks heated up.

Was it from embarrassment?

"[name]." he replied and met your gaze as his own eyes were inspecting your pretty features. "Isn't it hot?"

"No..." you trailed off and tried to ignore the sweat forming on your forehead. Oh boy, weren't you nervous?

"You sure?" he questioned, a hint of concern behind his layered cool and collected voice.

But why are you making me struggle?

"You're here." you changed the topic quickly, letting your head sink to the ground to hide your face.

"You called." and then, he got his phone out and showed you the multiple messages you left him, "and you said you'd pretty yourself up for me."

"Did I haha..?" you laughed awkwardly and faced him again to read his reply.

"Show me." he demanded.

"No..! It's too embarrassing. I didn't expect you to actually come." you refused, holding your arms close to your body.

"Please..?" he added.

Was that ass using his charms against you? The charms you taught him to use? Oh wow.

"No way..."

"Please."

"Ugh!" you heated up again and slowly removed your hands off the trench coat.

Just do it quick and easy.

As soon as it got opened, it revealed your outfit. Miniskirt, black stockings and a blouse. But that also the moment when he held onto your hands — forcing you halt during your movements.

"What's wrong?" your arms fell to the side as you watched him close your trench coat again.

"Nothing."

"Oh… Are you being shy?" you questioned, curiously staring at his face.

"Shut up, no I’m not. Just don't open the coat again." he demanded you and closed every single button. Not here, he wanted to add.

"Rin..." you blinked, your lips curling into a sly smile, "you're super shy! Don't act all nonchalant now! Give me a kiss! Or hug!"

Well this was a confidence boost.

"Back away."

"Should I really?" you let out a chuckle as his arms wrapped around you and returned the hug. “I’m her boyfriend huh?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No.” you kissed his cheek, “but whenever something like this happens, they usually say »she is my girlfriend«.”

“Ah is there difference?” he asked innocently.

“Yeah. But I’ll teach you later.”

FROM NOW ON, YOU ARE HIS MATCH CELEBRATION.

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mommafudd · 1 day ago

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A lil sum.

This is very mid I didn’t do my best and this was in the drafts for long asf. I didn’t proofread! Don’t flame me. I’ve been holding off for days. Okay enjoy!

TW: Smut, Degradation, Language, Mommy Azzi, Daddy P

WC: 8.5k

It was a Friday night in Gampel Pavilion. It was 6 p.m., and tonight was senior night. All the girls were deciding who should wear whose jersey, and without any debate, the team knew Azzi had Paige’s jersey. During this time, Paige and Azzi had been in an on-and-off situation. Azzi was all in, but Paige still feared what the media would say.

But that would all change tonight.

All the seniors had no clue who was gonna wear their jerseys since the injured brigade made it a surprise. Jana was in Aubrey’s jersey. Ayanna was in Aaliyah’s jersey. Carol was in Nika’s jersey. Of course, Azzi was in Paige’s.

All four girls wore jackets over their jerseys to keep it a surprise. Once the teams had run out, they all sat down. When they sat down, they took off their jackets and let the seniors see who had their jerseys on.

When Paige saw Azzi she nearly salivated. As the three other seniors walked up to the girls to give them a hug Paige stood there. Azzi thought she had made a mistake and shouldn’t have worn the jersey at all. That was until Paige had that stupid only for Azzi grin on her face. Azzi didn’t notice since she had turned away in embarrassment.

That’s when Paige saw it. Bueckers. She rushed toward Azzi not trying to make it too noticeable to anyone in the stands. She reached her and hugged Azzi from the back and tucked her head in the crook of her neck sneaking a kiss that couldn’t be caught by any lingering cameras.

When Azzi felt Paige she smiled and flushed deeply. “Someone exited huh?”, Azzi said. “You know what you’re doing ma.”, Paige replied her voice muffled since her face was still tucked in the crook of Azzi’s neck. After a few moments, Azzi turned around and gave Paige an actual hug.

“Lemme take you out tonight pretty lady”, Paige said with confidence. Azzi had already mentally said yes but wanted to challenge Paige a little. “Drop 20 and I’ll consider.”, Azzi said with a sly smirk and a hint of playfulness in her tone.

“Baby that ain’t nothin’ I could do that in my sleep”, Paige said. “Yea whatever Bueckers don’t get too cocky now.”, Azzi replied. “Well you sit there and look pretty and pick what color suit you want me to wear and pick a matching dress and some nice jewelry.”, Paige said with high confidence.

“Paige if you don’t go warm up I’m getting Geno on you.”, she said with a laugh. Paige raised a hand over her heart in mock hurt. “Wow okay, I see how it is. Okay I guess but, I’d rather be talking to you right now though.”, Paige said in a playful sassy tone as she skipped away from Azzi and onto the court with the rest of the team.

————————————

The game had started and by halftime, UConn was winning. Paige had 24 points and a few assists. She was sprinting up and down the court everyone thought she was working for that win. But no. She was working to be able to take her girl out.

She was throwing dime passes the whole way through the third quarter. She had 28 points by the 4th quarter the score was 44-82 with 12 seconds left on the clock.

The ball had just been inbounded to Paige and she started calling the play “ISO! ISO! Clear clear!” Everyone started spacing out since George Town was playing man. 8 seconds. She attempted to get her defender off of her and succeeded. 5 seconds. She did a fancy between-the-legs behind the back trying to impress the curly-haired girl on the sideline. 2 seconds. She shot. One second. Once the ball left her hands the bench stood up. The buzzer sounded with the ball in the air. Splash. She had 31 points.

Azzi slowly clapped. When Paige hit the shot she blew a kiss to Azzi. The cameras thought it was for Geno since in an earlier press conference he said Paige is a terrible shooter. (As a joke) But instead, she blew it to the woman behind him. Her woman. Azzi Jazlyn Fudd. After they went through the handshake line Paige sprinted to the younger girl.

“You did well out there P”, Azzi said in a soft tone as Paige approached. “Thank you, Az. So baby, since I did so good what about that date?”, she asked. “I said I would think about it not a for sure answer.”, Azzi said as she pulled Paige into a hug. “But I mean if you insist then…..yes. I wouldn’t mind a date”. Once Azzi said that Paige got extremely giddy and tightened her arms around Azzi sneaking a kiss to her cheek.

“Okay I’ll pick you up at 8:15 okay ma”, she said as she pulled out of the embrace. As she walked toward the locker for a shower Azzi called after her “White suit, Air Forces, Diamond chain, and a Bust-down watch!”, Azzi said in a shout.

Paige turned back and winked at her as she walked away. Azzi smiled as she got her stuff and headed home.

As they both got home they got ready. Azzi called Carol and Paige called Ice and KK.

(Azzi’s POV)

“Car’ I don’t know which dress I should wear I wanna go for sexy but subtle at the same time you know?” I only have three white dresses one with a V cut showing off the valley of her breasts. The other is a short dress cut off at her mid-thigh with a slit on the left side. The last one had a cross-laced back piece mid-length and a V cut not exposing much. “Um… I think the third one it’s subtle and it’ll make you look even hotter than you are.”, I nodded and considered it.

I went to the closet to change and slipped into the dress. When I came out Caroline said “See Azzi it looks hot as hell Paige is gonna be thinking some crazy things you know that right?”, “Oh my gosh, Car nothing's gonna happen she just wants dinner,” I replied as she laughed. “I don’t know Azzi she looked like she was gonna eat you for dinner when she saw her name on your back.”, That gave me a thought.

“Wait Car did she like it when I had her jersey on?”, I asked. “Seriously? Did you not see her She looked like a starved puppy who had just seen some chicken on the ground.”. Carol said matter-of-factly.

“Okay wait out here I have a good outfit.”, I told Caroline as I went back into the closet and shut the door. Carol was lounging on the bed scrolling through Instagram. Her focus shifted to the closet as I stepped out. “ Oh. My. Gosh.”, Carol laughed “You little whore do you know what you’ll do to her?” Carol said humorously.

“I do. That’s why I’m doing it.”, I replied with a sly grin. I had on a white long sleeve with a white Bueckers jersey over it, small revealing jean shorts, white Nike socks, and White Air Forces, and my curly hair hung loose framing my shoulders. I walked over to my phone and shot Paige a text.

P💕

A💕: Hey p, change of plans. Instead of the suit wear a pair of blue jeans, a White long sleeve, and White forces.

P💕: Okay. Why though?

A💕: Because I didn’t wanna be fancy tonight I know you’re exhausted.

P💕: Aww thanks for being mindful baby See you soon.

A💕: Okay bye P. See you in 10

I locked my phone put it on the desk and turned to Carol. “So I just told her no suit and to match me. Should I wear the set I bought?”, I asked Carol. “Azzi!, you seriously haven’t shown her it yet?!”, Carol exclaimed in confusion. “No it was supposed to be a surprise,”

I said in defense.

“Azzi you have 5 minutes before she gets here hurry up and put it on.”, “Okay I’m going.”, I went back to the closet and put my set on under my clothes. Once I came out there was a knock at the door.

As I approached the door I heard someone pacing on the other side of the door. Before I opened it I put on a white jacket to hide the jersey. I expected Paige to show up with herself only but to my surprise, Paige was standing there with a bouquet. Flustered as hell.

————————————————————

“Hi Mama”, Paige said. She was extremely flustered. “Hey P you okay?”

“Yeah just a bit nervous.”, “Oh okay let’s go.”, Azzi said as she stepped out and shut the door. They began to walk towards Paige’s car and Paige rushed to open the passenger door for Azzi. “Aww such a gentlewoman tonight aren’t we baby?”, Paige blushed and once Azzi settled she gave her a quick peck on the cheek before shutting the door.

Paige got in the driver's seat and started the car. She turned on her SZA playlist before backing out. As she backed out she noticed a dark shade of pink on Azzi's cheeks. “Who got you blushing over there baby?”, Paige asked. “You know who.”, Azzi said matter-of-factly. As Paige drove Azzi grabbed Paige’s hand lacing their fingers together.

Paige had the whole night planned out. She took Azzi out to the place where they had their first date. It was a small 24-hour diner on the outskirts of Storrs. She decided on this place for a good reason as well. She needed time. Back at Azzi's dorm KK, Ice, and Carol were setting up something special for Azzi.

When they arrived Paige got out and opened the door for Azzi. Before she let Paige shut the door she took off the jacket. Then Paige saw it again. Bueckers. Her heart did the stupid flip it always did around Azzi. She let out a shaky exhale and pulled Azzi into her arms. She kissed her way around her face and then she kissed her lips. Slow and tender something for just the two of them.

As they pulled away they both smiled. “Az do you know what you do to me?”, Paige asked. “Of course I do. Why do you think I always do it?”, Paige laced their hands together and they started walking into the diner.

As they walked in they were met with a short light-skinned man. “Hello welcome, just the two of you for the night?”, the host asked. “Yes just us, would you mind if we got a booth near a more empty part of the restaurant? We just wanna enjoy the night together.”, “Uh yes no problem, I would ask the same if I were the face of Storrs.”, the host said. The three chuckled.

As the host grabbed their menus and walked them to a private booth he set the menus down and brought out some water. They scanned the menus and Azzi couldn’t decide on one option. “P I don’t know I want the shrimp and the steak at the same time help meeee” Before Paige could respond the waiter returned. “Hello what could I get started for you?”, the waiter said but her attention was fully directed towards Azzi.

The waiter was clearly on the masculine side. “Um I’ll have the T-Bone steak with a side of mashed potatoes and fries, and she’ll have the jumbo shrimp with a side of veggie mix and white rice.”, Paige said though the question was directed towards Azzi. The waiter wrote the order down and didn’t pay a glance to Paige as her focus remained beaming on Azzi. “Would you like anything else, pretty lady? On the house.”, Azzi smiled. “Um yeah actually can I get some chicken strips My girlfriend loves them.”, Azzi said with confidence.

The waiter's overconfident smile faded. “Uh yeah sure.”, she replied dryly. She walked away after taking their orders. Paige broke the silence “Girlfriend?”, Paige asked as she smiled stupidly. “What I wanted her to know I wasn’t on the market.”, Azzi said calmly. “Damn right you’re not.”, Paige said taking a sip of her water. They chatted for about 15 minutes, just Paige rambling about the game and Azzi talking about what Geno was saying. Then Paige spoke up “I like my name on your back.”, Azzi blushed. “Yeah?”. “Yeah. I do.”, Paige said.

Azzi was about to reply before the waiter came back with her food. She placed it right in front of Azzi. Then she placed the chicken strips right beside her plate as if they were just for her. “Hope you like the chicken strips I told the chef to make them for someone special.”, she said as she smiled at Azzi.

Azzi placed the chicken strips right in front of Paige and said “She is special right? She dropped 31 on Georgetown tonight.”, Azzi said as she smiled at Paige. The waiter replied “Oh I was talking about you I meant your special.”, she said still trying to flirt. “Oh wrong person then.”, Azzi said. The waiter stood awkwardly in front of the table and then left.

When she returned with Paige’s food she harshly placed it down and did not use the polite softness she used with Azzi. Paige cut a piece of steak as the waiter spoke “Is there anything else I can get you guys?”. “Um yeah actually,” Paige said. She fed Azzi the steak straight off her fork then proceeded “I would appreciate it if you stopped trying to flirt with my girl after she repeatedly told you she’s got a girlfriend. Last time I checked she doesn’t have your jersey on with your name or number on it.”, Paige said in a harsh tone.

The waiter stood in silence. She walked away without a word looking pale as ever due to the pure embarrassment.

As they finished up their dinner (Azzi stealing half of Paige’s steak and Paige stealing half of her shrimp) they made their way to the front counter to pay. “Hello again”, said the host with a smile. “Was the booth private enough?”, he asked in curiosity. “Uh, yeah it was but your server was being a little invasive all good though.”, Paige said. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry for the inconvenience I will let my manager know and we’ll make sure you never have this issue again. Matter of fact dinners on the house. You played an excellent game today.”, the host said.

“Oh no that’s fine I got it and I appreciate the support.”, Paige replied pulling out her card.

“No seriously it’s fine you two have a good night.”, the man said. “Thank you so much have a good one.”, Paige and Azzi said.

As they walked to the car Paige opened the door for Azzi. Azzi pressed a quick kiss to Paige’s lips. “Thanks for taking me out tonight baby.”, Azzi said. Paige smiled, “No problem you’re my priority mama.” As Paige walked around the car she texted the group chat.

P boogers😼: Guys is it ready We’ll be there in about 30

Ice🧊: Give us 20 minutes

KK 🧑🏿‍🎤: Um we're almost done go do smth with her or take forever to get here

Car🚗: Uh yeah it’s gon be a minute Distract her we’ll text when we're done.

P boogers😼: Okay I’ll take her for ice cream.

Azzi rolled down her window “Paige why are you taking forever to get in the car?”, Paige replied, “Oh shoot sorry I was texting kk.” Azzi nodded. “Baby you want dessert?”, asked Paige. “Aww, you know me so well. What about ice cream?”, “Baby I was already setting the GPS for Dairy Queen c’mon you know that.”

“Okay well let’s go because I want my triple chocolate ice cream.”, Azzi said with joy.

As they drove to Dairy Queen it was about 15 minutes. When they got there Paige got out and opened Azzi’s door like clockwork. She helped Azzi out and they stepped inside the ice cream shop.

As they stepped in they both scanned the menu as they stood in silence. Deep down they both knew what they wanted but they were trying to give one another time just in case. As the middle-aged man stepped up to the register he asked “Hello welcome to D.Q what can I get you guys today?”, the man said. Paige ordered, “I’ll have 2 scoops of mint chocolate chip and my girl will have 2 scoops of rocky road.”

The cashier typed out the order. “Okay that will be $8.54”, Azzi took out her wallet but before she could insert her card Paige’s phone was already on the reader. Ding*. “Paige come on I was gonna pay.”, Azzi said in mock hurt. “It’s okay Az I got it. 8 dollars isn’t gonna break my bank.”, Paige winked. Azzi rolled her eyes and shoved Paige lightly. “Show off.”

“Only for you.”, Paige replied with a smug grin. Then they went to sit in the corner of the shop where a small two-person booth sat. “So… I have a surprise for you.”, Paige said. “What is it?”, Azzi asked. “Az I said ‘surprise’ The whole purpose of a surprise is that you don’t know.”, Paige said matter-of-factly.

A few moments later Paige spoke again. “I hope you like it and I hope you don’t break my heart tonight.” Before Azzi could respond the man came with their ice cream. They were eating in silence then Azzi spoke. “I enjoy your company P. You truly mean the world to me.”, Paige replied “You’re my everything, Azzi. Most of the time the reason I get up from bed and decide to breathe.”

They finished their ice cream in silence walked to the bins hand in hand and threw out the trash. They left the ice cream shop and Paige walked Azzi to the passenger side opening her door. “Thank you”, Azzi said. “No problem beautiful.”, Paige responded as she buckled Azzi in. Before she went to her side she placed a gentle but meaningful kiss on Azzi’s lips. As Paige walked around the car and got into the driver's side her phone buzzed with a notification. Five to be exact.

Ice🧊: Yo we’re done now

KK🧑🏿‍🎤: Yeah what Ice said we think she’ll love it.

Car🚗: yall gon have a time TONIGHT.

Ice🧊: Yeah we put a lil sum in there for yall to try😏

KK🧑🏿‍🎤: Azzi isn’t sleeping tonight P better stop by the gas station n buy a monster or sum

P boogers😼: Yall are gay. We're on our way back though get out of her room. Now.

Car🚗: Okay I’m pushing them out the door we’re out now. Yall gon have fun tonight…

P boogers: Oh I know. Thanks, Caro

“Paige. Off the phone. Now.”, Azzi said in a stern voice. “Oh shoot I’m sorry love I was texting the group chat. No more phone tonight.”, Azzi smiled at the statement. “Promise?”, “Promise.”, Paige reassured.

Paige started the engine and began driving. She reached for Azzi’s hand. “Don’t say anything but.. just know I love you, sweetheart.” Azzi wanted to reply but kept quiet due to the first few words in Paige’s sentence. They were passing a familiar road, one that led all the student of UConn to their dorms. As Paige turned left they pulled into the parking lot.

Once Paige had parked she told Azzi to wait there. She popped the trunk got out a blindfold and helped Azzi out of the car. She wrapped the blindfold around Azzi’s head and quickly ran back to the trunk to pick up the bouquet of pink roses. Though Azzi couldn’t see them Paige already knew she would love them. Paige slowly but surely helped Azzi up to the third floor of their dormitory. She opened the door. She told Azzi to wait there so she could check the room making sure the setup was nice.

When she walked in she saw it. The beautiful pink roses were scattered along the bed. The pink and white sheets. The gift basket contained a pink unicorn, candy, body care, slippers, a blanket, and a bunch more goodies Her eyes landed on one particular box.

It was a purple velvet box.

In the middle of the bed. Placed gently under the sign that read. ‘Azzi Jazlyn Fudd will you be my girlfriend?’ In all pink letters with a unicorn at the top right. On the bottom left the sign had a small check box and a marker taped to it. ‘Will you be the pink to my purple?’

Paige was extremely giddy. She hurried back to Azzi since she had already been waiting a little too long. She saw Azzi standing near the door. She approached her. “Are you ready baby?”

“Yes, I am.”

Paige gently guided Azzi toward the room blindfold still on. She pushed the door open and the scent of the champagne toast candle hit Azzi like a shockwave. “Mmm, what’s that smell It smells good.”, Azzi said. “Champagne toast.”, is all Paige replied and you can hear the smirk in her smile.

“Are you ready?”, Paige asked. “Oh my gosh, Paige hurry up you’ve asked a billion times already.”, Azzi said. “Okay, okay”, Paige replied in mock defense as she finally pulled off the blindfold and Azzi opened her eyes. She covered her mouth with both of her hands. “Azzi Jazlyn Fudd, will you be my girlfriend?”, Paige asked. “Yes!, Yes!, Yes!,”, Azzi exclaimed.

Paige pulled her into a tight hug and then littered her face with kisses. “Check out all the stuff I got you. Some of the girls helped me out since we left.”, Azzi looked at that basket and saw a long black box that stuck out due to the black to colorful contrast of the other bright colors. She pulled it out and it had no label. Azzi asked Paige if she knew what it was but they were both clueless. Azzi decided to take a first glance. Once she opened the box she closed it immediately. Paige decided to take a look for herself and did the same.

Of course. Like Ice said. A lil sum.

They both looked at each other and laughed. “Oh my gosh, I knew ice was up to something,” Paige said. “Paige. Madison. Bueckers. You’re telling me Isuneh Brady put a sex toy in my girlfriend's basket?”, Azzi asked. “Yeah that girl is something else.”, Paige said.

Paige sat down on the bed and grabbed the velvet box before she got down on one knee. “Azzi I already know you’re gonna be my wife one day so I bought you this promise ring so you can see it every day and know how much I love you. Ever since we were 16 you’ve been the one woman I have eyes for. You treat me so good and I’ve been extremely stupid to make you wait this long. I love you so much that I would do anything for you. You are the most gorgeous woman I know and the most kind, intelligent, and amazing Lady I know and want. I love you so much and I don’t want you to forget that. So I promise you, I will marry you when the time is right.” At this point, Azzi was in shambles and her cheeks were drenched in tears. Paige put the ring on her hand and once she stood up Azzi pushed her onto the bed littering her face with kisses.

She got on top of Paige and straddled her like she’d done countless times before. Paige had barely processed the way Azzi was looking at her. She looked like she had been dehydrated and the only way to quench her thirst was Paige. Azzi softly pressed her lips onto Paige’s and kept a slow steady pace of rhythmic pecks. When Azzi began to get close to the sweet spot underneath Paige’s jaw the whimpering and soft moans from Paige started eliciting faster and some louder or quieter than others.

They were kissing aggressively licking into each other’s mouths competing for dominance and just as Azzi was starting to gain leverage Paige picked her up. She stood with her arms under Azzi's ass keeping her in a stable position. She backed Azzi into the wall and started littering kisses down Azzi’s neck. As she reached the sweet spot of her collarbone bone she began to mark Azzi's collarbone. Some hickeys could only be visible to someone staring at her neck area.

Paige purposefully did this to make sure that people knew she was not available. While Paige was trying to see what noises she could drag out of her girlfriend she felt a sudden force to her shoulders. Azzi plopped down and pushed Paige onto the bed. “You’ve had your fun P. Now let me show you how much I wanna have the real ring on my finger.”, Azzi said this as she crawled into Paige’s lap straddling her once more.

Paige felt as if someone had yanked the oxygen from her lungs. There was an extremely noticeable throbbing between her legs. Azzi started marking her territory as well and as she did so she began to grind over Paige’s pussy. Paige started letting out little oh, ah, uh, oh, ah, uh’s. Paige was straight-up whimpering.

“Arms up.”, Azzi said. Paige obeyed and let Azzi remove her shirt and sports bra. Once the tops found their way to the corner of the room Azzi was attacking Paige’s breasts. She was biting and sucking all over her chest. Then, she took one of Paige's hard nipples into her mouth and licked against it softening it with the flat of her tongue. Paige was moaning louder now.

Azzi hadn’t taken off the jersey yet and Paige was aching to remove it. “Can I take this off Mama?”, Paige asked. Azzi nodded and gave her a smug smile. As Paige removed the jersey she immediately noticed the top half of the pretty lavender lingerie. There was a purple lacy mesh bra that had straps connecting to the lower half.

Paige silently asked permission to take off Azzi’s shorts and Azzi immediately nodded. Paige removed the shorts and saw the bottom half. There was a very tiny pair of matching lavender panties. One odd thing that Paige had yet to notice was that there was a ring at the bottom. Where Azzi's entrance was there was a hole with a ring so she could still have access to Azzi's juicy cunt. “Damn ma, I’m going to slut you the fuck out.”, Paige lets out a half growl half whimper. She sounded extremely desperate.

“What do you want pretty my fingers? Mouth?”, Paige asked. “Strap.”, was all Azzi said. Paige complied. Though she had never used a strap-on before she quickly got the hang of it. She secured the harness onto her hips with the perfect fit. When she returned to Azzi she asked to take off her bra. Once Azzi’s chest was bare Paige was attacking her chest. Hungry. She took a nipple into her mouth and began sucking in it gently as her other hand caressed the swell of the other breast. Azzi felt an amazing sensation as if Paige was releasing all her stress with her tongue. “Stop, teasing me Daddy I need it. Please.”, Azzi begged. At the seriousness and want in Azzi’s tone, Paige got on her knees.

In between Azzi's legs, Paige pulled the panties aside and began giving kitten licks to Azzi's dripping cunt. Paige was making out with Azzis clit causing her to let out soft and gentle moans. Beautiful moans. At that, Paige stuck two fingers in just to give her enough stretch. After all, she didn’t want to hurt the younger girl with the sudden stretch.

When Azzi didn’t feel as tight Paige pulled out her fingers. She looked directly into Azzi’s eyes as she sucked and licked them clean. She leaned down and kissed Azzi. Hard. She licked into her mouth and Azzi moaned at the taste of her arousal on Paige’s tongue. Paige scooted her body up Azzi’s and her hips were now hovering above her chest just before the beginning of Azzi’s face. Before Azzi could question Paige spoke. “Suck.”, Paige demanded. “W-what?”, Azzi asked in genuine confusion. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself. Go on. Suck.” Though Paige was new at this she gained confidence with the newfound way of pleasure.

Azzi pushed up onto her elbows and began licking the head of the strap. One thing Paige failed to notice as she put the strap on was that the base of it was directly over her sensitive puffy clit. As Azzi gained more confidence she started sucking it with more force she was sucking half of the strap. The pull from her mouth was causing the dick to move in rhythmic circles. The friction of Azzi moving was causing Paige to let out little moans. Azzi didn’t have any clue why Paige was making noises and concluded that she was just being dramatic and being in the moment. She didn’t know that just a slight small movement was rubbing Paige’s clit. Paige grabbed Azzi’s head and Azzi shoved her mouth down the full length. Azzi felt 9 inches in her mouth curving down into her throat. She was gagging and her saliva was all over the toy but she kept moaning and sucking. “Fuck baby, you like sucking my dick? You even know how to deep-throat?”, Paige said.

Azzi remained quiet. Then Paige got up from where she was above Azzi’s face and made her way back to the foot of the bed. “Are you ready baby? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You tell me the word and I’ll stop.”, Paige reassured. “Paige if you don’t fuck my brains out within the next 10 seconds I’m gonna cry.”, with that Paige moved off the bed. Azzi was about to complain until she realized what Paige was doing. She was picking up the jersey Azzi was wearing from off the floor. She came back to the bed and held the jersey out toward Azzi. “Here put it on. I wanna see my name on your back while I slut you out.”

Without complaint, Azzi slipped on the jersey and began getting into missionary. Except Paige had a big issue with that. She grabbed Azzi by the hips and flipped her over in one swift motion with concerning ease. Azzi yelped in shock at the action. “Oh my gosh Paige!, wait damn, that was lowkey sexy. You’ve been in the weight room Daddy?”, Azzi said as she arched her back. Paige huffed a laugh. “You ready pretty?”, Paige asked. “Yes, just fuck me already Daddy.”, Azzi whined as she arched her back farther to tease Paige.

Paige bent down and started sucking a new love bite into Azzi’s neck from behind. Azzi was starting to get needy and began to whine. “Paige hurry up.”, Azzi said. “Who are you talking to like that baby?”, Paige said as she grabbed Azzi’s hair. Before Azzi could respond Paige thrust her hips forward sending the full length of the strap into Azzi. Paige repeatedly pushed the head of the strap in through the ring where Azzi's entrance was. She felt the base of the strap rub over her clit with a large amount of friction. Again. She was cooked.

Azzi's moan dragged out with the pace of Paige stroking the dick into her. “Mmm. Look at you, taking this dick like Daddy’s little slut. Who do you belong to Az?”, Paige asked as she drove in harder on this particular stroke. “You!, ugh!, F-fuck. You P!, I'm your slut! Your cocks so big!”, Azzi exclaimed as Paige was fucking her at an ungodly pace. “Ugh!, fuck daddy!, It’s in my stomach!”, Azzi screamed. Paige smiled and growled into the crevice of her neck “Yeah? I’m gonna put all my babies in you Az. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget that pretty name of yours mami.”

Paige grabbed Azzi by the base of her scalp and tugged harder than before. Azzi let out a strangled whimper. Then to let go of some of the tension she figured she would try to distract Paige. She started throwing it back on Paige meeting her hips halfway. Somehow she felt the strap go deeper at this motion.“Damn Mama, who taught you how to throw ass like that?”, Paige said in a smug tone. Azzi could practically hear the smirk on Paige’s face. Paige continued to slide the dick in and out of Azzi and she began to shake and squirm. They kept this pace for a decent amount of time.

“Fuck Mama you feel so good I swear I can fuck you all night.”, Paige said as she kept her pace, sweat dripping down her temples and all. “Fuck Daddy, this pussy is all yours!”, “Who’s is it Azzi Tell me louder I wanna hear you,”, Paige said as she began to let out fairly loud moans. “You!, I’m yours P!, this is all yours! No one fucks this pussy like you!”, Azzi said approaching her release.

Within seconds Azzi was pleading to let go of the boiling heat in her lower stomach. “Fuck P!, I’m gonna c-cummmm. Please Daddy can I cum!”, Azzi said as Paige continued to ram into her. Paige herself was rapidly approaching the edge. “Nah, ask correctly Azzi baby,”, Paige said as she continued railing Azzi from behind. “Fuck!, Please Daddy can I cum on your dick!, I want you to fill this pussy up”, Azzi said in a desperate ragged tone. “Yeah baby, cum on my dick. Warm up my cock, mama. I’m there too. Fuckkkk Az I’m cumminggggg!”, Paige said as she released. They were both trembling, and Paige was sprawled on Azzi's back now.

As Paige stood up she asked, “You okay if I pull out?”, Azzi nodded. “Yeah but slow.” With that Paige slowly pulled the strap out. It was covered in Azzi’s cum and slick. Before she could grab a towel to clean it Azzi got off the bed. “What are you doing Mama?”, Paige asked in confusion. Without a reply, Azzi got on her knees in front of Paige. It took Paige a moment to understand what Azzi wanted.

She inched the strap closer to her mouth and without hesitation, Azzi took it into her mouth. She licked and sucked the strap until all of her release was nowhere to be found. Paige pulled her up onto her feet and kissed her gently. She traced the outline of her lips as if she hadn’t memorized them. She then licked across the entrance of Azzi’s lips asking for permission. Azzi immediately obliged and opened her mouth giving Paige access to explore her mouth. As soon as Paige tasted Azzi on her tongue she let out a half groan and a half growl. They stayed like that for a moment just kissing and holding each other until Paige felt Azzi’s hand come around to her ass to undo the strap. She unclamped the straps and the toy d

Fell to the floor with a. Thud.

Paige eased out of the kiss. “You're done for tonight?”, Paige said as she caressed Azzi's jaw. “No. Get on the bed.”, Azzi replied in a flat tone. Paige was a little taken aback by the boldness of the comment but without argument, she got on the bed. Azzi removed the jersey and put the laced bra back on. She clamped the straps to the lingerie back on and started, “We’re gonna do this the right way because I wore this set for you and I’m not wasting it just because you have a jersey kink. Okay Bueckers?”, Azzi said. Paige fumbled her words, “Y-yes ma’am”

Azzi began to walk toward the bed at a slow agonizing pace. When she reached the foot of the bed she climbed onto the mattress slowly. Paige was sprawled on the bed waiting for Azzi. Azzi crawled up Paige’s body slowly until she reached Paige’s hips. She straddled Paige and sat over her bare bottom half. “I want you to touch and feel me and make me feel wanted and seen.”, Azzi instructed Paige. Without hesitation, Paige reached up and cupped both of Azzi’s breasts through the Lacy meshy bra. She kept her hands there moving them around the valley of her chest. She sat up a little bit just to get better access. She slid some of the bra towards the side and bit a hickey into the upper swell of her breast. Azzi moaned at the sensation and worship she was receiving.

Before she knew it Paige had flipped their positions. Azzi is now on the bed and Paige is hovering over her. Paige leaned toward Azzi and began kissing her in a gentle but meaningful way. Their tongues tangled together and they licked into each other's mouths. Paige’s hands trailed all over Azzi’s torso feeling the curves and scars around her body. She crawled down Azzi’s body kissing every freckle, curve, scar, and goosebump. She was worshipping Azzi and making her feel as seen as possible. Azzi was letting out little moans and whimpers at the sensation. Paige kept trailing lower until she reached the panty line of Azzi's underwear. She kissed all around the waistband and toyed with it She pulled it back and let go just to hear the snap.

She licked across her waistband before trailing higher toward her belly button. She circled the pricing with kisses and kitten licks that elicited moans out of Azzi. Paige’s goal was to make her girlfriend feel good. At that, she trailed back down to the pantie line and asked, “You okay if I take these off mama?”, she asked. Azzi nodded, “Yes, please P I need you.” With that Paige removed Azzi’s underwear. “What do you want Mama?, Fingers?, Mouth?, I can put the strap back on,”, Paige said. “Mouth please.”, Azzi said with an eager and submissive tone. Before Azzi could second guess herself Paige shove there face into Azzi’s juicy pussy. Azzi’s slick covered Paige’s face from her forehead to her chin. Paige was swimming in Azzi’s cunt and all Azzi could do was moan and clench the sheets.

Though she wanted to grab Paige’s head she refrained since Paige hadn’t given her permission. “Fuck mami, this pussy is so wet f’me”, Paige said as she pulled back for some air. When she pulled back she noticed Azzi clenching the sheets eyes locked close. “You wanna grab my hair baby?”, Azzi didn’t bother answering and grabbed Paige by the hair with both hands. She tugged on her hair pulling her towards her throbbing center. Paige groaned at the roughness. “Careful ma don’t pull my hair like that,”, Paige said trying to remain calm and soft for Azzi. Azzi loosened her grip and her eyes fluttered open, “M’sorry Daddy, you just have me all worked up”, Azzi whined.

Paige just shoved her face back into Azzi’s throbbing cunt devouring her and sucking up all the juices that came out of her entrance. On one particular stroke of her tongue, Paige felt Azzi’s whole body tremble. She knew Azzi was extremely close to the edge and doubled down on her efforts. Azzi was letting out straight-up pornographic moans and her hips were shaking violently. With Azzi shaking it was affecting Paige’s work ethic and was ruining her rhythm and pace. So to stop the shaking and squirming Paige wrapped her left arm around Azzi’s lower stomach and her right arm over her hips. Paige closed her mouth over Azzi’s clit and sucked on it till Azzi was tugging in Paige’s hair.

Paige dipped her head down into Azzi’s entrance fucking into her with her long tongue and the first time Paige stroked her tongue Azzi screamed. “Fuck!, Oh my gosh, Daddy!, You eatin’ this shit up!”, Paige moaned into Azzi at the praise, and a shockwave shot through Azzi’s body causing her to scream again. A couple of moments later Azzi was sobbing. “F-fuck!, I’m gonna cum!, please Daddy let me cum!, I wanna cum all over your face!”, Paige smirked into Azzi. She pulled back, “Let go mama let me taste you.”, With that Azzi came all over Paige’s face a few gushes coming out. Paige helped Azzi ride it out lapping up all her release and groaning at the taste. “You taste so good Mama”, Paige said.

Paige thought they were done since they had both already came. She got up to go to the restroom but before she could get off the bed Azzi grabbed her by the jaw. “Did I say we were done?”, Azzi asked in a husky tone. “No ma’am.”, Paige replied as she got back in the bed. “Lie down.”, Azzi said flatly. Paige did as she was told. Azzi got off the bed and picked up the strap. “This was a gift for both of us. I figure it’s only right we both get to feel it.”, Azzi said as she put the harness on. She climbed back onto the bed stopping before Paige’s hips. She bent down and whispered into her ear. “Listen, if you don’t want to do this we don’t have to. You tell me the word and I’ll take it off so quick. Do you wanna try?”, Azzi said. Paige nodded “Yeah just be gentle okay? I’m not used to something being inside me.”, Paige said nervously. “Of course pretty girl I would never want to hurt you.”

At that, Azzi sat up and moved until Paige's legs were on either side of her body. She slid the head of the strap through Paige's folds pulling a groan from somewhere in the depths of her throat. “You ready baby?”, Azzi asked in an overly sweet tone. “Please, Mommy.”, Paige said. With that Azzi slowly slid the strap in. Paige let out a high-pitched pornographic moan. Paige had never felt a sensation like this. She had never had someone stroke a 9-inch dick in her. Paige would get off with just one of Azzi's fingers which was relatively smaller than hers. So when she felt the long strap inside her she nearly cried. Azzi asked if she was okay and Paige nodded. She proceeded to drag the strap out and Paige whined at the sudden emptiness. When she pushed it back in Paige’s spine arched off the bed. A tear slipped out of her eye. She was completely overstimulated with the fullness.

Azzi felt Paige's gummy walls tighten around the strap. “Are you close baby?”, Azzi asked. “Yes!, fuck!, it feels so good. Please, please, mommy!”, was all Paige could get out. Azzi knew Paige better than she knew herself. She could tell Paige was close so she worked the dick out and slowly pushed back it. This time that Paige moaned it didn't sound like it was from pain, more like pleasure. Azzi thrust a total of three more times. “Holy shit!, I’m cumming m-mommy!” Before Azzi could register the words a big gush of white slick game out of Paige. She had never seen that happen before. But what really surprised her was when a big gush of clear warm liquid followed. It soaked her whole stomach and her thighs. “Oh. My. Gosh. Paige Madison Bueckers. Did you just squirt on me?”, Azzi said shocked and quite amused. “Stop. No. Shut up. No. Stop.”, was all Paige said. She was extremely embarrassed due to the fact that Azzi barely fucked her and she squirted everywhere. On the other hand, she felt more ashamed because she's never made Azzi squirt before and she's fucked her for a lot longer than 6 strockes.

“Aww, no baby that was so hot. Don't be embarrassed. Maybe do it in my mouth next time yeah?, wouldn't want it going to waste right?”, Azzi said. “Next time? Azzi Fudd you're such a freak. I will, not. Be squirting in your mouth. Not now or ever.”, Paige said. “Ugh, whatever you're no fun.”, Azzi said as she rolled her eyes. “You good if I pull out?”, Azzi asked in a soft careful tone. “Yeah just slow,”, Paige replied. Azzi pulled out and as she did she covered herself in a mocking gesture. “What are you doing?”, Paige asked in a curious tone. “Oh sorry I didn't know if you were gonna soak me again if I pulled out too fast.”, Azzi said as she tried not to laugh. Paige sat up and pulled her in by the throat. She kissed her deeply and said, “We're not leaving this bed till you squirt so hard you dehydrate.”, Paige said in a serious tone. Azzi took off her bra, “Let's see if you're a woman of your word. And you won't hurt me, you know I like it rough Daddy.”, Azzi said as she smiled. Paige tackled her into the bed. “I’m gonna fuck you till the sun comes out.”

Let's just say the rest was history.

——————————————————

It was now 5 in the morning and Paige was indeed a woman of her word. They had just finished and Azzi had tears dried all over her cheeks from the 4th previous orgasm. The sheets were extremely damp. Paige made Azzi squirt 6 times. They could both place bets on whether or not Azzi was dehydrated. The strap had loads of dry cum on it and Paige had at least 15 scratch marks from Azzi holding n for dear life. They thanked god that KK and Ice stayed at Carol's with Sarah and Ashlynn. Paige stood up and lifted Azzi bridal style. They were both still naked since they just finished and they both looked so fucked out. Paige opened the door and started making her way to the bathroom. “You okay baby?”, Paige asked. “Yeah, you're unreal. You rearranged my guts.” Mid-conversation just as they were passing the entrance to the living room they heard several screams. She jumped and Azzi untucked her head out of Paige’s neck. There sat Ice, Kk, Carol, Sarah, and Ashlynn. They all just arrived and were lounging in the living room. They both screamed so loudly that someone could’ve suspected a murder. “Paige! What the fuck! Go put on clothes!”, Carol screamed as she covered her eyes. Paige ran with Azzi in her arms back to the room.

She slammed the door shut and walked over to set Azzi down on the bed. “Azzi,” before she could continue Azzi interrupted, “Paige!, our teammates just seen both of us butt booty ass naked!”, “I’m sorry Mama!, I didn’t know!”, “It’s okay, but what do we say when we go back out?”, Azzi asked. “How about we stay in here and love on each other till we die of hunger or thirst?”, Paige said as she pushed Azzi down on the bed and began to cuddle her. “Put on clothes and get me some too.”, Azzi said in a stern tone. Paige got up and got dressed then kneeled at the foot of the bed to put some clothes on Azzi. “Okay you ready mommy?”, Paige asked. “Paige don’t call me mommy if we’re not having sex.”, Azzi said as she tried not to laugh. “Why not? You call me Daddy as my second name,”, Paige said. “Okay whatever you’re right let’s go.”, Azzi said. “Okay mommy”, Paige was halfway out the door when she noticed Azzi wasn’t trailing behind. “C’mon mama let’s go”, Paige said. “Paige I… I can’t walk.”, Azzi said as she looked away.

Paige just smiled and walked back toward the bed picking Azzi up bridal style again. “It's okay Mama I'll carry you”, Paige said as she gave Azzi a peck on the lips. “Thank you, Daddy.”, Azzi replied. “Alright enough with this gay shit.”, Azzi said and they both laughed. Paige stepped out Azzi still in her arms and made her way to the bathroom. As they walked past the living room again Paige spoke before her teammates could. “Shut up, we didn't know you were here.”, and kept moving. Paige shut the door to the bathroom and sat Azzi down on the counter.

She turned the water on in the tub and added some bubble bath mix. She removed her clothes and then silently asked if she could remove Azzi's. Azzi nodded and let her clothes be removed. Paige went back toward the water and checked the temperature It was warm just as Azzi liked. She returned to the counter and picked Azzi up and set

Her on the side of the ledge. She got in before Azzi. “Come here baby”, Paige said as she helped Azzi in the water. They sat there, Paige massaging the tightness in Azzi's hips and back. She massaged her thighs and pelvis in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure and help her relax. She washed in between her legs to remove the slick and cum. Then she wet her hand to wipe away the dry tears.

They finished washing up and Paige helped Azzi out and dressed her. She carried her back to the room and tucked her in. They both got into bed and were babbaling nonsense. After some time Azzi spoke. “I’m glad you asked me to be your girlfriend P, I love you” Paige replied, “I love you to Azzi.” They both cuddled each other and pressed gentle but meaningful kisses on each others faces. “Goodnight, Daddy.”, Azzi said as she wagged her eyebrows. “Goodnight, Mommy.”

#paige x azzi #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi smut

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ficsbydemi · 3 days ago

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A VERY BLUE WELCOME

warnings: none :)

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader

summary: carlos didn’t get to introduce y/n to ferrari when he first joined (they hadn’t been dating), but now, he can finally introduce her as his.

Y/n had barely stepped into the Williams Headquarters in Grove when she felt like she could just melt into the floor.

Everything around her was loud, team members idly chatting as they worked, holding steaming cups of coffee, tools she didn’t recognise.

She could only wish she had that confidence.

And beside the girl, her boyfriend, Carlos.

He’d already slipped into his new role with ease, the red long gone and now replaced with the deep shade of blue that was his polo, one hand in his pocket, the other laced tightly with hers.

“You okay, carino?” he leaned down slightly, his voice lower than usual.

“Just nervous,” Y/n muttered, taking her lower lip between her teeth as she often did when she was anxious, chewing softly on it.

“You don’t have to say much,” he shrugged, “not with me, I’ll do the talking. You just stand and look pretty,”

“You always say that,” the girl blushed, a tinge of red filling her cheeks as Carlos smiled, his thumb brushing across her knuckles reassuringly.

“Because its true,”

She could feel the eyes on her already, the big, new driver signing with Williams and then his girlfriend, just there. Doing nothing.

It was judgemental, but it was attention nevertheless, and Y/n did t know what to do with it.

The man beside her smiled as he walked to a few mechanics, his group probably, holding Y/n close to him as he approached.

“Carlos,” he extended his free hand, “and this is Y/n. My girlfriend,”

Instantly, she felt her cheeks heat up.

“Hi,” she muttered back, her gaze almost on the floor, “it’s very nice to meet you all,”

Some people smiled back, some of the older mechanics just gave curt nods. One of the media girls whispered a, ‘aw, she’s so pretty’.

The pair stayed like at - hand in hand - as they slowly went round and met everyone, a few conversations sparking which Y/n had to awkwardly stand beside, but nothing too bad.

Finally, they managed to catch a break, finding a sofa in a separate room, Y/n instantly making sure to sit as close to Carlos as possible.

“You’re doing great,” Carlos whispered, leaning closer to her.

“But I’m just standing here?”

“Exactly,” Carlos shrugged, a teasing smile coming to the corners of his mouth, “and you look stunning doing it,”

In the sea of unfamiliar faces, Carlos’ hand in hers had kept her grounded for it, like he knew she needed the reassurance that she was doing well.

He always did that for her, just her hand in his making all the nerves melt away.

They were still on the sofa, one of Carlos’ arms draped lazily behind her head, toying with strand of her hair, when the door opened, a man walking to the little fridge and picking up a bottle of water.

Y/n blinked as the man caught sight of them, his eyebrows raised, hair messy like he’d just woken up.

“Oh,” Alex cocked his head at the man beside Y/n like an annoying brother, “so this is why you’ve been all smiley?”

“This is Y/n,”

“Did not know you could pull, mate,” he pointed the bottle at Carlos, “this is shocking information,”

“Nice to meet you,” she awkwardly shook his hand.

“Shes shy,” Carlos spoke, half protective and half proud of the girl beside him.

“Yeah no kidding,” Alex chuckled as Y/n looked back down at her hands, “didn’t know you’d go for someone this sweet,”

“I only go for the best,”

The girl practically felt herself melt into the seat.

“Ugh, disgusting,” Alex whistled in mock horror, spinning the bottle in his hand, “I’m gonna leave before you both go all soft on each other in front of me,”

“Jealous?” Carlos laughed.

“Im concerned,” he corrected, “who will argue with me on media day if not my own teammate?”

“You,” the Spaniard spoke flatly, “will argue with the wall,”

“You’ll fit in great,” Alex winked at Y/n as she smiled, “you can meet my girlfriend soon too,”

And then, the other funny blue man was gone.

The girl blinked up at her boyfriend, a dusting of light pink across her cheeks.

“People…know about me?”

“Of course,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair, “I always talk about you,”

“Really? What d’you say?”

“That when I’m with you, everything slows down,”

And right then, she swore to herself, in the middle of the break room, in the middle of a random sofa, curled up together - that she would stay with him forever.

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fanficgirl429 · 12 hours ago

Text

Jealous Bucky

Prompt: John Walker is flirting with Y/N and Bucky is not happy about it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

——

The mission was over. Finally.

After everything the Thunderbolts had been through—explosions, betrayal, too many close calls, and one particularly annoying helicopter crash—the team had made it out in one piece. Mostly. Everyone was exhausted, bruised, and more than ready for downtime.

They were all scattered around the common room of the safehouse, where someone had put on music and cracked open beers. It was the first time in days that things felt... calm.

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, nursing a cold bottle of water. Ava stood beside him, biting into a granola bar and eyeing the room with her usual mix of indifference and sharp observation.

And that’s when Bucky saw it.

Walker was on the couch sitting way too close to Y/N.

She looked relaxed, curled sideways into the cushions with her legs tucked under her. She was dressed in an oversized hoodie that definitely belonged to Bucky and had her hair pulled back in that soft way that always made his heart beat a little faster.

She was smiling. Laughing. Walker was leaning in, elbows on his knees, body angled toward her. His expression was easy, confident. Flirting.

Bucky’s stomach tightened.

“She doesn’t even notice,” Ava said without looking at him, her tone bored. “He’s been laying it on for ten minutes.”

“I noticed,” Bucky muttered.

“Oh, you noticed the second he sat down. You nearly crushed your water bottle.”

Bucky’s jaw flexed as he watched Walker gesture with a lazy grin, fingers brushing the back of the couch, right behind Y/N’s shoulders. Her face lit up as she laughed again.. She looked completely at ease. Completely unaware.

Walker leaned in just a bit more. “You know, if I’d had you on my team during the last op, I wouldn’t have taken a hit at all. You’re faster than half the guys we had in the field.”

Y/N laughed again, brushing him off. “Please, I tripped over my own boot five minutes into the chase.”

“Still looked good doing it.”

Bucky didn’t hear the rest.

He pushed off the counter and stalked across the room, ignoring Ava’s amused, “Here we go.”

Walker barely had time to glance up before Bucky dropped down, right between them. No warning, no hesitation. One second they were sharing a couch cushion, and the next, Bucky was planted squarely in the middle, his vibranium arm brushing Walker’s shoulder hard enough to make a point.

“Hey, babe,” Bucky said, voice low.

“Hey! I didn’t see you come over.”

“I’ve been watching,” he said pointedly, shooting Walker a cold glance.

Walker raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “Just having a conversation.”

“Pretty sure you were having a performance,” Bucky said, his tone sharp. “You do that thing where you lean in and talk slow. Must work on people who aren’t paying attention.”

Y/N glanced between them, a little confused. “Wait—were you flirting?”

Walker shrugged. “I mean, if you didn’t notice, then I clearly wasn’t doing it right.”

Her expression shifted—half surprised, half annoyed. “John.”

“Hey, harmless,” Walker said, palms up. “You’re beautiful. I complimented a beautiful woman. Sue me.”

“She’s taken,” Bucky growled.

“I know,” Walker said. “You didn’t exactly leave it a mystery when you sat down like the jealous boyfriend in a soap opera.”

Bucky leaned back against the couch, arm stretching behind Y/N with deliberate ease. “Good. Let it be known.”

Y/N sighed and rested a hand on Bucky’s thigh, her voice calm but firm. “Okay. Everyone chill. Nobody’s getting sued for flirting and nobody’s getting stabbed over a couch cushion.”

Walker stood with a smirk, lifting his drink. “You two are adorable. I’ll go find someone less committed to flirt with.”

As he walked off, Bucky didn’t look away until Walker disappeared into the hall.

Y/N turned to him with an amused look. “You really sat in the middle of us.”

“I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“I didn’t.”

“You never do,” Bucky muttered.

She tilted her head, smiling now. “Jealous, huh?”

He groaned. “Of him? No. I just don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they have a shot with you.”

Y/N leaned in, placing a kiss on his lips. “You don’t have to mark your territory, Barnes. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

His voice softened. “Just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she said. “Especially not to John freaking Walker.”

From across the room, Ava shouted, “That’s the right answer!”

Bucky laughed despite himself, pulling Y/N tighter against his side.

Walker could flirt all he wanted. But Y/N was already taken.

And she wasn’t going anywhere.

The sky outside had shifted to deep gold, casting long shadows through the windows of the safehouse. Most of the team had filtered out to their rooms or found quieter corners to decompress. The music had stopped. The noise was gone.

Y/N leaned against the windowsill, sipping from a mug of tea. She watched the fading light, quiet, and thoughtful. Her hoodie sleeves were pushed up to her elbows, and her hair was a little messy from the couch.

She heard soft footsteps behind her and smiled before he even spoke.

“Hey,” Bucky said quietly, hands tucked in the pockets of his sweatpants.

She turned to look at him. “Hey yourself.”

He walked over and stood next to her.

Y/N tilted her head. “You okay?”

Bucky shrugged a little. “Yeah. Just... needed a breather.”

She nodded. “Yeah. That was a weird vibe back there.”

He looked away for a second. “Didn’t expect to get that worked up.”

“About Walker?”

He gave a tight nod.

Y/N crossed her arms gently, not in defense—just grounding herself. “I honestly didn’t realize he was flirting until you sat between us.”

“Yeah, I caught that.” He glanced at her now, lips twitching faintly. “You’re a little too good at being friendly.”

“Is that a compliment or a warning?”

“Both,” he said, more softly than he meant to.

There was a silence, comfortable but weighted.

Bucky stepped closer. “It’s not about you doing anything wrong. It’s not even about him, really. Sometimes I get this... voice in the back of my head that says, 'Don’t mess this up.' Like I’m waiting for someone to come along and prove I was never supposed to have this in the first place.”

Her heart tugged a little at that.

“You didn’t mess up,” she said gently. “And you’re not going to.”

“I know.” He looked down. “Most days I believe that. But every now and then, something like today happens, and I just—” He exhaled through his nose, a quiet, frustrated sound. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” she said without hesitation. “Not over someone like him. Not over anything.”

He finally met her eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

Y/N stepped in close, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. “Because this isn’t something I just stumbled into. I chose you. Every day I get up, and I still choose you.”

Bucky rested his chin lightly on top of her head, his arms slipping around her. The tension that had been knotted in his shoulders slowly eased.

“You always know what to say,” he murmured.

“Only because you never stop needing to hear it,” she teased, looking up with a smile. “Which I don’t mind. You’ve always been worth the reminders.”

He kissed her softly.

When they broke apart, she poked his chest lightly. “Also, you had perfect timing. I was five seconds away from making things super awkward.”

Bucky smirked. “Yeah? How?”

“I was going to ask him if he needed directions to someone else’s personal space.”

He laughed, really laughed, and she felt it in his chest beneath her hands.

“Next time, I’ll let you handle it,” he said.

“Oh, you better. I’m getting good at the polite-but-lethal tone.”

Bucky tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re kind of terrifying sometimes.”

She grinned. “Only when someone thinks they can come between us.”

His smile softened. “No one can.”

And just like that, the weight that had been clinging to him all evening finally let go.

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vigilante-3073 · 3 days ago

Text

Endgame

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N always thought that she and Steve would be together forever. But what happens when he has the chance to go back in time and choose another path?

TW: Betrayal, breakups, friends to lovers, mentions of death and drinking.

Y/N sat on the bench outside Tony Stark's cabin, staring ahead blankly as the team said their goodbyes to Steve. Everyone had gathered for a funeral service at the edge of the lake. The battle with Thanos had resulted in the losses of many, altering the lives of everyone who was affected.

The team had lost Tony. Natasha. Gamora. Vision. Loki.

Y/N hadn't known Loki or Gamora very well, but their sacrifice still mattered. The losses weighed heavily on family, friends and allies alike. Y/N was fortunate to have seen Steve return unscathed with his closest friends at his side.

It felt strange to be grateful in such a melancholic situation, surrounded by mourning individuals wearing black clothing. The service had been arranged for Tony, but most of the people who gathered together had their own loved ones to mourn.

It was the type of situation that opened people's eyes and made them look at their life differently. What could they have changed? Should they call that person they've been thinking about? Confess something that they've been keeping buried inside?

Steve had spoken to Y/N before the service about his plans. He hadn't confided in anyone else at the time, but his mind was already made up.

He was leaving her.

Steve had been hung up on Peggy for decades and Y/N always respected that. Y/N was naive to think that their connection could ever rival the one he had found with Peggy all those years ago. Peggy changed his life and Steve would never be able to fully let go of her, especially after being ripped away from her so suddenly when he went into the ice.

Their engagement was called off, but Steve encouraged Y/N to keep the ring. He apologized for the suddenness of his decision, but he didn't have a lot of time. He told her that their connection was amazing, but he would never forgive himself if he passed up this opportunity.

Y/N watched him smile as he shared a quick hug with Bucky before moving over to the machine that Bruce had assembled. He was gone in a flash, roaming through time and returning the infinity stones to their designated spaces along the timeline.

Then he would go to Peggy.

The thought made bile rise in Y/N's throat as tears gathered in her eyes. Steve just tossed her aside, discounting their years together and chasing a woman he barely knew over seventy years ago.

Y/N looked up as someone made their way over to her, "Mind if I join you?" Bucky questioned.

Y/N shook her head, not trusting her voice enough to speak. Bucky nodded, stepping past her and sitting down on the bench beside her. He glanced down at her hand, immediately noticing the absence of her engagement ring.

"I take it from the missing ring that he told you about his plan?" Bucky questioned, Y/N nodded.

"How much notice did you get?" He asked.

"He told me when I was getting ready to come here," Y/N replied softly.

"What a punk," Bucky muttered, shaking his head, "I'm sorry that this happened to you... You're a really good person and you didn't deserve this," Bucky continued.

"Thank you," Y/N said shakily, wiping away a tear with the sleeve of her sweater.

"He's an idiot for letting go of a girl like you," Bucky stated.

Y/N smiled slightly, "That's sweet," She said.

"I'm here if you need anything, okay? I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this because you're not," Bucky said.

"C-can I have a hug?" Y/N asked softly.

"Yeah, of course," Bucky said, standing up from the bench.

Y/N stood up with a sniffle, wiping away another tear before wrapping her arms around his neck. Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to himself. He could feel her body shaking as she sobbed silently into his shoulder. Bucky looked up, gulping when he noticed Sam walk over to a white-haired man who was sitting on the bench by the lake.

"He came back," Bucky said softly.

Y/N pulled away quickly, turning around to see the old man as he talked to Sam, "Oh my god," She mumbled, turning away from them.

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick," Y/N said softly.

For a millisecond, she allowed herself to believe that he returned the stones and came home to her. It was like another heartbreak to see him sitting there after living the life he'd always wanted with Peggy.

"I need to get out of here," Y/N said shakily, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Let me take you. You shouldn't be driving in your condition," Bucky said, she nodded and passed him her keys.

Bucky led her over to the steps, resting his hand on her back as they moved down the stairs. Bucky could hear Sam chasing after them as they approached her car.

"Hey, Y/N, hold on," Sam called.

Bucky paused as Y/N turned around, allowing Sam to catch up to them, "Look, I'm really sorry about how everything went down, but he's here and he wants to talk to you," Sam said.

Y/N shook her head, "I can't," She stated.

"Y/N, please," Sam began.

"She said no, Sam. She's been through a lot today and it's borderline cruel for him to try and talk to her right now," Bucky said.

"He wants to apologize, Y/N," Sam stated.

"Sam, I'm sorry, but I can't see him like that. Not yet at least," Y/N mumbled, wiping away her tears with shaking hands.

Bucky opened the passenger side door, holding it open for her. Y/N moved to get into the car and Sam quickly grabbed onto her wrist.

"Just give him a minute of your time. Please," Sam pleaded.

"No, I can't," Y/N replied.

"Let her go, Sam," Bucky said firmly.

"Bucky, this is between Steve and Y/N," Sam stated.

"Then why are you the one chasing her down? Let go of her," Bucky repeated.

"Fine, but I want you to give me a call if you change your mind, okay?" Sam said, releasing her wrist.

Y/N nodded before quickly getting into the car, Bucky closed the door behind her, "Don't push her on this, Sam. She needs time," Bucky said.

"I know," Sam nodded, "Are you gonna stay with her tonight? She probably shouldn't be alone," He questioned.

"I'll keep an eye on her. I promised him that I'd look out for her and I meant it," Bucky stated.

"You're a good guy, Bucky. I'm glad she has you," Sam said.

....

Bucky drove down the road, the car was quiet besides the soft chatter of the radio. Y/N stared down at her lap, picking away at her cuticles as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

Bucky glanced over at her, "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I don't know. I just-," Y/N huffed, "I really need a drink," She stated.

"I can definitely help you out with that," Bucky assured.

He pulled into the parking lot of the first dive bar he saw, leading her inside and finding them a set of stools at the bar. Y/N set her purse on the bartop, hopping up into the stool.

"Get whatever you want, doll, it's on me," Bucky said, sitting down beside her.

"What can I get you two?" The bartender asked.

"Can we get four shots of whiskey, please?" Y/N questioned.

The man nodded, lining up the shot glasses on the bartop and filling them from the bottle. Bucky handed him a few bills when he finished pouring the drinks.

"Keep the change," He said, the bartender nodded and stepped away.

Y/N picked up one of the shot glasses, downing the liquor with a grimace before setting it down on the bartop. Y/N moved onto the second shot glass, then the third and finally the fourth. Y/N set the last shot glass down on the bartop with a thud, letting out a disgusted shiver at the taste in her mouth.

Bucky stared at her in shock, "Wow... That was impressive," He said.

"I just really need to get drunk right now. I know it's not cute or responsible but it's necessary," Y/N stated.

"You're not gonna get any judgement from me, sweetheart. I'm here for you, no matter what," Bucky said, waving over the bartender for another round.

He sat with Y/N at the bar for hours, drinks turned her sadness into anger and back into sadness again. She leaned into his side, sobbing as she used a bar napkin to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"I loved him and I thought he loved me back... He left me the second he had the chance and didn't even care," Y/N rambled, her words slurring together as she spoke.

"He loved you, Y/N, I know that for a fact. If time travel wasn't possible, he would have married you and lived a happy life here. But as soon as it was an option, he felt like going back to Peggy was an option and it blinded him," Bucky said, hand rubbing over her bicep as she sniffled.

"He's an asshole and I never want to see his old face again," She muttered.

Bucky smiled slightly, "You almost ready to go home, sweetheart?" He questioned.

"I'm hungry," Y/N said.

"I can pick something up for you on the way home. Whatever you want," Bucky offered, Y/N nodded.

She straightened up on her barstool, grabbing her bag from the bartop before sliding off the stool. Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist as she swayed on her feet.

"Whoa, take it easy there, doll," Bucky said, leading her out of the bar.

"You're such a nice guy. Why don't I ever pick the nice guys?" Y/N questioned softly.

Bucky felt his cheeks flush, "Steve was a nice guy," Bucky offered.

Y/N scoffed, "Maybe, but he still dumped me for his ex-girlfriend from like sixty years ago," She grumbled.

Bucky walked her over to her car, opening the door and helping her get inside before leaning in to buckle her seat belt.

"Bucky," Y/N said, he hesitated in front of her.

He could smell her perfume and the alcohol on her breath as she stared at him. Y/N leaned in suddenly, eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her lips to his in a drunken kiss. Bucky cupped her cheek gently in his palm as he moved his lips against hers, eyes drifting closed at the gentle contact.

Bucky pulled away after a moment, eyes fluttering open and gaze flickering over her face uncertainly when he realized what had just happened. Y/N was drunk and vulnerable, he took advantage of her in an altered state and he refused to be that kind of guy.

"I'm sorry, that was stupid," Y/N said shakily, "God, I'm such a mess right now," She muttered, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it, doll," Bucky assured, pulling away and closing the car door gently.

He took a steadying breath as he walked around the car before getting into the driver's seat, "Let's get you some food, huh?" Bucky said.

"You're the best," Y/N smiled.

...

It had been almost a year since Steve had abandoned them to return to the past. The first few months had been horrible for Y/N, returning to their shared apartment was like having her heart broken all over again.

Bucky stayed with her on the first night, sleeping on the couch in the living room and pretending that he couldn't hear her crying herself to sleep. He helped her clean out the apartment the next morning, packing all of Steve's belongings into boxes for Sam to pick up.

Every picture, every trinket, every clothing item and every gift was packed away. Y/N couldn't bear to look at anything that he had left behind without crying, she just needed it all to be gone.

Bucky stayed at her apartment again that night, sleeping on the couch and doing his part to make the place feel less empty. Y/N truly valued his friendship, but there had always been something buried underneath.

That night at the bar, Bucky and Y/N shared a kiss that neither of them would ever forget. It took about six months before Y/N asked Bucky to move in with her.

Things moved quickly between them after Bucky moved into the apartment. They settled in easily, the domesticity taking them by surprise. They both needed someone reliable at their side, someone who they could trust to remain consistent even when things got hard.

They began to see each other romantically almost a year after Y/N's engagement was called off. Bucky was clear about not wanting to rush her, but Y/N knew exactly what she wanted.

Bucky sat on the couch, flipping through the channels as he searched for something to watch. His cellphone rang on the cushion beside him, pulling his focus away from the screen.

Bucky picked up his phone, smiling at Y/N's contact photo before sliding his thumb across the screen. Bucky lifted the phone up to his ear, lowering the volume of the television.

"Hey, sweetheart, you on your way home?" Bucky questioned.

"Just leaving work now. I'm going to stop at the store on my way home and just wanted to see if you needed me to pick up anything," Y/N said.

"No, I'm all good," Bucky replied.

"Okay, I'll see you in a bit," Y/N said.

"See you soon, sweetheart," Bucky replied, pulling the phone away from his ear and hanging it up.

Bucky set his phone on the cushion beside him, resuming his search through the various channels on the TV. Bucky settled on a baseball game, watching silently for a few minutes.

He looked up when someone knocked on the door, Bucky stood up and slowly made his way over. Bucky unlocked the door, opening it to find Sam standing in the hallway.

"Bucky? What the hell are you doing here?" Sam questioned.

"I live here," Bucky stated.

"Since when?" Sam asked.

"Can I help you with something, Sam?" Bucky questioned.

"Steve called me. Said he was missing a leather jacket in his stuff," Sam said.

"I'll take a look," Bucky stated, stepping out of the way.

Sam moved into the apartment, looking around and quickly spotting the framed photographs of Y/N and Bucky on the mantle.

"Wow, you guys didn't waste any time, did you?" Sam questioned.

"None of what happened makes much sense, alright? Steve left her and I was here," Bucky said, walking off into the bedroom.

Sam followed closely behind him, lingering in the doorway as Bucky opened the closet door and began to search through the clothing.

"So, you two are a couple, then?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, we are," Bucky stated.

"Have you talked to Steve about this?" Sam asked.

"He left her behind, I shouldn't have to ask for his permission," Bucky said.

"I thought he was your best friend," Sam replied.

"So did I," Bucky stated.

He looked over when he heard the front door open, "Baby, you here?" Y/N called.

"Baby? She seriously calls you baby?" Sam asked.

"Shut up," Bucky muttered, stepping back from the closet, "In here, doll," Bucky called.

Y/N appeared around the corner, smile falling briefly when she spotted Sam, "Hey, what are you doing here?" Y/N questioned.

"He wanted to pick up a jacket for Steve," Bucky stated.

"Oh, okay," Y/N nodded.

She stepped around Sam before approaching the closet, "Can you grab the black box on the top shelf?" She asked, Bucky nodded.

He pulled down the box before passing it to her, Y/N moved over to Sam and held the box out to him.

"That should be it," Y/N said.

Sam lifted the lid slightly, "Yeah... Thanks," He nodded.

"I'll walk you out," Bucky offered.

Y/N lingered in the bedroom as Bucky led Sam to the door to their apartment. Bucky opened the door, allowing Sam to step out into the hallway.

"Bucky, you and Y/N are really good together. I'm sure Steve would be happy if you told him," Sam said.

"I'm sorry, but he lost the right to know about her life when he broke off their engagement. She is the best thing that's ever happened to me and I know that I am the luckiest guy around. Steve screwed up by dumping her and I'm sure that he'll figure it out someday soon," Bucky said.

"Alright... I wish you the best," Sam replied.

"Have a good one, Sam," Bucky said, closing the door carefully behind him.

"Did you mean that?" Y/N asked, Bucky turned around to find her peering around the corner at him.

"I did," Bucky stated.

Y/N smiled, stepping out from behind the corner and making her way over to him. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, standing up on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love you," Y/N said softly.

"I love you too, honey," Bucky replied easily, smiling down at her.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x fem reader #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

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barcapix · 2 days ago

Note

hiii could you please do the current boyfriend prank that’s on TikTok with Lamine❤️

✮ Current Boyfriend - Lamine Yamal

lamine yamal x fem!reader

sy: trying the viral, ‘current boyfriend’ prank on your bf, lamine.

a/n: hope this did justice ! thanks for requesting 🫶🏼 (moodboard is shite. let’s move swiftly on..)

warnings: just spanish, i think.

per usual, your phone was causally propped up against the limestone shelf below the mirror of your masters bathroom.

purposely, you’d had it on screen-record and video for a while now, so it wouldn’t give away the fact it was recording the soon-to-be prank you were about to deliver to your boyfriend.

lamine, sure he was smart as hell when it comes to football, but common sense-wise?not so much.

lamine has just finished adjusting his golden chain around his neck. “how are you not ready yet?”

“says you who has just finished,” you playfully tease, popping the lid of your lipstick off. “i’ll only be a few seconds.”

he mumbles something incoherent, fidgeting with the blonde strands of his hair. you finish the lipstick addition, sweeping your purse.

“i’m so glad i finally get to go out with you tonight,” you smile sweetly, intertwining your hand with his. “it’s been awhile since ive went to dinner with my current boyfriend.”

lamine nods, then does a double take, his head snapping towards you, that might of just have gave himself whiplash. meanwhile, you’re still gazing at your reflection in the wall-sized mirror.

“wait what? current boyfriend?”

you continue adjusting your hair in the mirror, pretending to be oblivious about the way lamine’s once-bright expression twists into confusion.

he blinks. once. twice. thrice.

“how many do you have!?”

you turn vaguely, offering him a sideways glance. “¿qué?” (what?)

“nada,” lamine tuts, his eyes narrowing as they search your face for any persiflage. “don’t what me. current boyfriend? is there a list or something i should know about?”

you bite the inside of your cheek, merely holding back your laugh bubbling inside your throat. but you manage to stay composed. “there’s no list.”

he tilts his head slightly, suspicious. “..you said that with a little too much confidence for me to believe it.”

you roll your eyes, tapping your foot impatiently. “let’s just go to dinner. we’ll be late otherwise.”

you attempt in starting to move past him, but he casually steps in front of you with a freakishly swift pace.

“al diablo con la cena,” he remarks. “adelante, dilo otra vez.” (screw dinner. go ahead, say that again.)

you glance at him in the mirror. he’s got that lazy frown, brows slightly pulled, arms crossed now, like he’s waiting for an answer that better be a good one.

“say what, baby?”

“that thing,” he says, chin jerking up at your reflection. “about me. say it again.”

you stifle a smile. “what? that i’m glad to go out with my current boyfriend?”

“yeah, that. why’d you say it like that?” he says, tinging possessively, but more so desperately as if that actually stung him.

“look at me when i’m talking to you.”

lamine tepidly curves the angle of your jaw to face him, in which you shrug. “it’s not that deep.”

he takes a step back, eyes scanning your face and jaw slack, as if scanning for hidden answers carved into your skin. “well, it sounds deep! you planning on replacing me or something?”

you chuckle under your breath, flickering between his hazel eyes. “god, you can be so dramatic sometimes, amor. turn that frown upside down.”

you send a roguish smack to his chest, where he stays deadly still. he doesn’t let up, though.

“so i’m just your current boyfriend now?” his tone sharpens, albeit not bitter, just like he’s getting increasingly bothered. “just holding the spot till someone else comes along? someone ugly?”

you sigh. “lamine.”

he looks down to you, arms falling to his sides, and his expression somewhere between annoyed and pouty.

“just say i’m your boyfriend. drop the current.”

you raise an eyebrow. so, this is what jealousy looks like. although after almost four years of dating, jealousy wasn’t a common thing lamine liked to convey.

you can’t deny the smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “are you jealous?”

his cheeks immediately blush with a shade of light crimson like a blush rebellion; the tone of his voice pitches in protest. “jealous? pfffttt. me? never.”

“you aree jealous,” you coo, prolonging the tail of your words as you poke him in the chest. “this is you. jealous. sulky face and everything.”

lamine starts with a fake cough, and both of his hands pressing comically against his inflamed cheeks. “im just saying no other man would know your coffee order like the back of their hand.”

“caramel frappuccino, with a shot of vanilla and chocolate fudge drizzle—extra cream.” he wraps his arm around your waist, deflecting his embarrassment now.

his hands hover above yours, his fingers circling your ring finger like a silent claim. “see?” he gestures, vainly to himself. “no one else would know that.”

you squint at him. “and you say you’re not dramatic, yet you’re spiraling over a sentence.”

lamine huffs, now trailing your spine with his hands. “im spiraling because the sentence made me sound temporary. im not temporary.”

“no? what makes you think that?”

“because if you ever tried replacing me, i’d have to hunt whoever he is and s—”

“okay!” hurriedly, you jump up onto your tiptoes, to kiss his cheek, effectively permitting him to shut up. “it’s a prank! i promise! don’t finish that sentence!”

“a prank?” he scrunches his nose.

you grab your phone from the shelf, and he now, hours later, recognises the red circle at the top of your screen—recording.

lamine immediately groans. “you with tiktok.”

“you’re as much of an addict as i am,” you add, giggling. “are you saying you’ve never seen this trend?”

the spaniard shakes his head, lazily letting his chin drop atop yours. a heavy exhale rakes from his bones, relief washing over him. “no, i’ve seen it. i just didn’t think you’d use me for content and almost give me heart palpitations.”

you usher a breathy laugh. “okay, i’m sorry. i’ll offer to pay for the desserts tonight—as an apology?”

“¿solo los postres?” he faux snorts, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. (just the desserts?)

here comes the pretentious eye roll again. not like hours ago he made it evident that you weren’t to pay a single cent. “bien. yo pagaré.. las bebidas también.” (fine. i’ll pay for.. the drinks too.)

“así está mejor,” he mumbles. though, realistically? he’d backtrack on his words. (that’s more like it/that’s better.)

“soo..” you peer up at him, hands smoothing down his abs. “are you finally happy now?”

“almost.”

lamine steals a kiss from your lips, satisfyingly slow and lingering like he’s trying to brand it in place; sealing his position as your permanent boyfriend.

when he pulls away, his teeth gently nab at your bottom lip, but his voice is weaker, almost smug again.

“now i’m happy.”

🔖🏷️: @n0vazsq @hearzdiarx @paucubarsisimp @diarieeeelils @joaosnovia @httpsdana @universefcb @madamsoulette @mariejuli (lmk if you wanna be added or removed ◡̈)

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lightsoutmatthews · 2 days ago

Note

hey jo! your writing is such a great escape, you’re so talented! i have a dramatic request: reader has only met auston’s family a handful of times—like this is very new territory for them. she overhears auston’s sisters talking about her, so she starts coming up with excuses not to see them. auston gets mad thinking she doesn’t like his family, but reader doesn’t want to say what is really going on. this leads to a fight with auston and reader, but with a happy ending between everyone please (sisters included). i know you can bring this drama to life 🙏🏻🙏🏻

I loved this request, sometimes it´s so nice to have a direct vision compared to just a one sentence request (not that I don´t like them 🫣)

What wasn´t said – Auston Matthews

Meeting Auston´s family for the first time felt like being dropped into someone else´s dream.

You knew how important they were to him. How tight knit he and they were but until you were actually standing on the front steps of his childhood home on Scottsdale, you didn’t realize just how intimidating that closeness could be to a newcomer.

He had been sweet about the invite, casual even.

“My mom is doing a little get-together Saturday, nothing big. You in?”

You had smiled and nodded, hiding the nervous twist in your stomach.

At this point you had been dating for a few months, you had gotten to know most of the important people in his life that lived in Toronto, his teammates, their partners, team staff, his management team, but this was new territory.

You wanted to make a good impression, not just for Auston, but because a part of you wanted them to like you. Really liked you. As much as he did.

The Matthews´ house was beautiful. Open, filled with light, a giant backyard that backed onto the desert.

His mom, Ema, was warm right away. She kissed your cheeks, offered you homemade lemonade and told you to make yourself at home.

His dad was quieter but equally as kind, asking about your job, your family and where you grew up.

Then there were his sisters Alexandria and Breyana.

They were beautiful. Put-together. Confident.

You could feel the closeness between them and Auston immediately. Instant jokes, casual teasing, glances that didn’t need explanation.

You couldn’t help but feel like a spectator trying to step into a movie halfway through as you watched their sibling dynamic.

They greeted you politely, not unkind, but not warmly either.

Alexandria, the older one, made a bit of small talk. She asked how long you had been dating Auston and what you did, but her tone was cool.

Breyana was chattier but distracted, like she had one eye on the conversation and the other one out of it.

You tried to stay positive. Helped Ema in the kitchen, complimented the backyard. You even asked Breyana about her earrings when she sat beside you. She said thanks and then got up to join Alexandria by the pool.

Later that evening, Auston put his arm around you while you both watched his cousins toss a football around.

“They like you,” he said, smiling.

You forced a small smile back. “You think so?”

“Yeah, my mom said you were so sweet.”

That part you believed but his sisters? You weren’t so sure.

Over the next few weeks, you met them a few more times. Dinners, game nights, little family things Auston included you in.

Each time you showed up with a bottle of wine or dessert, smiled even when you felt awkward, laughed at the jokes you didn’t fully understand.

But each time, you still felt like you were knocking on a door that wouldn’t open all the way.

---------------

The confirmation happened at a late-summer barbecue at Auston´s parents´ house.

It had been a hot, dry afternoon. The pool was open; drinks were flowing and the air smelled like grilled burgers and sunscreen.

You had spent the last hour chatting with Ema and Auston´s aunt on the patio, sipping lemonade and trying not to overthink every word that came out of your mouth.

At some point, you realized your phone wasn’t in your bag.

You excused yourself and headed inside to look for it.

The living room was empty, music drifting in faintly from outside.

You started to retrace your steps. Checked under the throw pillows, the coffee table and even the guest bathroom but there was nothing.

As you moved toward the hallway where the bedrooms were located, you heard voices coming from one of the rooms. Alexandria´s you thought.

The door wasn’t fully shut.

“…like, I don’t want to be a bitch,” Breyana said, her voice low but clear.

You froze. Instinct told you to walk away, but something held you in place.

“It´s just weird,” she continued. “She barely talks to us. It´s like she´s afraid to say the wrong thing, so she doesn’t say anything.”

“She´s so… I don’t know, careful?” Alexandria replied. “Too careful. It feels fake sometimes.”

“She acts like she´s sweet but it´s all too polished, like she rehearsed it in the mirror or something.”

You pressed your back against the wall, your throat tightening.

Alexandria sighed. “Honestly, I don’t get it. Auston could have anyone. What does he even see in her?”

“Probably someone who loves the NHL lifestyle,” Breyana said with a dry laugh. “He´s always been a magnet for that.”

The words landed heavy. Your chest ached.

“I´m not saying she´s awful,” Breyana added. “She´s fine, I guess but I don’t think she fits.”

You didn’t wait to hear more.

You backed away, heart pounding, and ducked into the guest bedroom.

Your phone was on the dresser, right where you had left it when you changed into your swimsuit.

When you returned to the kitchen, your face was calm, but your stomach churned. You smiled and told Ema you weren’t feeling well. Migraine. You were so sorry.

Auston offered to drive you back to his place, but you insisted you would be okay. He kissed your cheek and told you to text when you got home.

You cried in the car. Not big sobs, just quiet tears that slipped down your face and dried before you pulled into your driveway.

You didn’t tell him what you heard. At least not then.

---------

After that day, something shifted.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face them. not Alexandria´s cold glances or Breyana´s forced smiles.

Every time Auston mentioned a family dinner, your stomach turned.

So, you started to make excuses.

At first, they were believable.

Work deadlines. Friend commitments. A minor cold. Auston didn’t question it. He told you to rest, that he would catch up with you after.

But as the weeks passed, the reasons got thinner.

You declined three events in a row. Then skipped his mom´s birthday dinner entirely.

You told him you had a scheduling conflict, but the truth was you sat on your couch in sweats, watching TV and feeling ashamed.

You weren’t angry at his sisters. You were hurt. Embarrassed.

You hadn’t done anything to deserve that kind of judgement when they had met you all of three times before that.

The worst part was that you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Auston. Not because you didn’t trust him or because you thought he wouldn’t believe you.

You didn’t want to make things awkward for him. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend who came between him and his sisters.

Still, the distance between you and Auston grew.

He started noticing the little things. “You´ve been avoiding them,” he said one night after dinner.

You barely looked up from your empty plate. “I´m not.”

“You are. You always say no to the invitations now.”

“I´ve just been busy, you know how work can be.”

“Too busy to come over for dinner and spend two hours with my family?” he shot back.

Your silence answered him, but he didn’t push that night. Still, you could feel the questions behind his eyes.

And soon enough, his patience started to fade.

-------------

It was a Sunday afternoon when it all boiled over.

You were supposed to go to his parents´ for brunch. He had even bought you a new dress the week before, teasing that his mom would love it on you.

But that morning, you said you felt off. A headache, maybe a potential stomach bug. You told him to go without you.

When he came home, you were curled up on the couch. He dropped his keys on the counter and stood there, arms crossed.

“You okay?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah,” you answered absentmindedly.

He nodded slowly. “We need to talk.”

You straightened. “About what?”

“My sisters. My family. You keep pulling away and I´ve let it go because I figured maybe you needed space, but it´s been over a month now and I need to know what is going on.”

You looked away. “Nothing is going on. You´re imagining things,” you said, harsher than expected.

“Bullshit,” he shot back.

You winced at the bite in his voice.

“Did I do something wrong? Did they? Because I´m stuck in the middle here. I´m trying to give you space, but I can´t fix anything if I don’t even know what´s up. I´ve got my mom asking me every time when I show up without you if she did something to upset you and I´m tired of lying to her.”

His voice was harsh, and your heart wrenched at the confession about Ema.

She and Brian were nothing but incredibly nice to you. They had welcomed you with open arms and it was unfair of you to make them collateral damage but at the same time you could not face them while Alexandria and Breyana where there.

You couldn’t take more of their glances and whispers.

His voice softened just a tad when he spoke again. “Do you not like them?”

You closed your eyes and sighed. “No. I mean… it´s not that.”

“Then what?” he said, harsher again.

You didn’t want to argue about it, but you felt like this was the moment you had to come clean, otherwise it would all blow up in your face. “I overheard them.”

He blinked confused. “What?”

“That barbecue a month ago. I was looking for my phone and they were talking in Alexandria´s room.”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“They were talking about me. Said I put on a fake personality when I was with them, that all I said was like I rehearsed it in front of a mirror. Oh, and that I was probably with you for the lifestyle and that I didn’t fit.”

The room was dead silent.

You finally glanced at him. His face went a little pale with shock.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you said. “I didn’t want to cause drama, they didn’t need any more bad impressions of me, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to defend me. They´re your family after all.

His hands dropped to his sides. “You should have told me. Maybe not there but when I got home that evening.”

“I didn’t want to make you choose between me and them and I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

He stepped closer. “You´re not making me choose but Jesus, I would´ve wanted to know. Of course I would´ve had your back. They´re my sisters, yeah, but they have no right to speak about my girlfriend that way.”

“I know,” you said quietly, tears brimming. “I just… I was scared what would happen if I told you.”

He pulled you in without another word, his arms tight around your waist.

You rested your head on his chest, letting the tears fall.

“I´ll talk to them,” he said into your hair. “I promise.”

---------------

Auston didn’t waste time.

That same evening, he called Alexandria and asked her and Breyana to meet him for coffee the next morning.

You reluctantly offered to come, but he shook his head.

“I need to talk to them first. Just me.”

He returned an hour later, quieter than usual.

He kicked off his shoes with more force than any other day and sat beside you on the couch, running a hand over his jaw.

“Well?” you mumbled.

“They didn’t deny it,” he started, sending another painful pang through your chest. “They remembered what they said and tried to play it off at first, like they were just venting or being protective of me.” He sighed.

You bit your lip. “And?”

“I told them it wasn’t okay. That they hurt you and that if they had concerns, they could´ve come to me. But talking behind your back like that? That´s not how we do things.”

You stayed quiet, fingers laced in your lap.

“They asked if they could talk to you and apologize.”

Your stomach clenched. “I don’t know if I´m ready for that.”

“That´s okay. You don’t have to do anything, but they want to make it right. I think they realized they crossed a line.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

-------------

Two days later you agreed to meet Breyana and Alexandria at a little coffee shop near Auston´s house.

You got there early and sat by the window, tapping your foot until they walked in.

Alexandria looked nervous. That surprised you.

“Thanks for coming,” she said as she sat down.

You nodded, arms crossed but still open enough to signal her to continue.

“I want to say this first,” she started. “We were wrong. We judged you way too fast. I don’t have a good excuse for it except… I think I got used to people coming in and out of Auston´s life quickly.”

“Some of them were only around when he was winning,” Breyana added. “When the season was going well, or the press talked about him. And I think we just assumed you were like them because we were used to that.”

You looked at both of them, staying quiet for a second, letting their words settle. “That´s the thing.” You started. “I´ve done nothing to make you think that. You barely know me and you never gave me a chance.”

“I know,” Alexandria said quietly. “And I´m sorry. Really sorry.”

Breyana leaned forward. “We want to start over. Only if that´s something you´re open to of course.”

You paused. Looked at their faces. There was no fake politeness now. Just honest, awkward vulnerability.

“I´m open to it,” you said finally. “But it will take a bit of time.”

“That´s fair,” Alexandria nodded. “We´ll earn it.”

----------

The next few weeks were slow and cautious.

You didn’t jump into family dinners right away, but you started small. Showed up to game nights again, helped Ema prep for a baby shower for one of Auston´s cousins, met for lunch with Alexandria once.

You still felt tense at first, but it slowly faded.

There was a moment at a brunch two weeks later where you and Breyana got caught up talking about a show you both loved. She laughed genuinely and looked surprised.

“Okay, okay. I misjudged you,” she said with a careful grin.

“You think?” you teased.

“I was an ass,” she admitted.

You smiled. “You´re working on it.”

They began including you more organically. Sending memes, asking your opinion about gifts for their mom because “Auston has no clue about that stuff anyways” and invited you to a Pilates class.

It wasn’t perfect but it felt like they were making a real effort.

One night, you and Auston were lying in bed, legs tangled under the sheets, when he kissed your temple and murmured “Thanks for giving them a second chance.”

You turned to him. “Thanks for standing up for me.”

“You´re my person,” he said simply.

---------

Months passed.

The weather cooled. You and Auston returned to Toronto. The season picked up. You found yourself at more and more family gatherings. Movie nights when everyone came for a Leafs homestand, birthdays, even a trip to the lake one-week Auston surprisingly had only one game.

You and Alexandria weren’t best friends, but there was a growing respect.

A shared look when Auston did something ridiculous. A text checking in when she heard you had a rough week from her brother.

Breyana was looser. Warmer. She teased you now with affection, not barbs.

At Thanksgiving, Ema pulled you aside in the kitchen, handing you a bowl of mashed potatoes.

“I´m really glad you´re here,” she smiled.

You smiled back. “Me too.”

Auston came up behind you later, looping an arm around you waist. “You know,” he said, voice close to your ear. “My mom told me yesterday she thinks you´re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Even after I brought store-bought pie?”

“Even then,” he laughed.

You leaned into him, glancing around the crowded room. His dad was laughing with cousins, his sisters were setting the table together, Ema was calling for someone to grab more wine.

It didn’t feel like you were on the outside anymore.

It felt like you finally belonged.

#auston matthews #toronto maple leafs #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #auston matthews x reader #nhl imagine

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sorcerersandskillusers · 3 days ago

Text

The genius writing of Akutagawa and Dazai's relationship.

Dazai and Akutagawa's relatuionship is incredibly interesting and is essential to the story as a whole.

Here I want to talk about how we see Dazai’s careful manipulation of Akutagawa at the start of BSD and what his motivations are for doing it.

In Dazai's entrance exam we see how Akutagawa is still pursuing Dazai even after 2 years. But he is going after him more for revenge, he has clearly become more independent but still desperately wants to find Dazai and hopefully understand why he was left behind.

Akutagawa sternly watches the agent go. “Wait. I’d like to ask you something.” The agent stops in his tracks. “I’m looking for someone. He has the ability to nullify others’ skills upon contact. Know anybody like that?” “Sorry, afraid not.” “Then get out of my sight.” “You got it.” He begins to walk again before disappearing into the darkness of the evening twilight. “…Where did you go? Why did you suddenly disappear?” Akutagawa soliloquizes, alone on the street. “For a moment, I thought you might have been the Azure King, but I was wrong. Where are you? There’s no way you’re dead. You are somewhere here in Yokohama. I just know it.” The winds of the night collect his words and carry them away. “I’ll find my mentor if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll find you, former Port Mafia executive Dazai.”

By the time the manga really starts we see that Akutagawa's attitude towards Dazai has changed a lot.

This is his first time seeing Dazai in years and he is able to keep his cool and brush it off. He is even confident enough to threaten Dazai when we know Akutagawa before this and even later in the series would never.

Dazai taunts Akutagawa here, poking at the old insecurity’s and letting him know Dazai is still not impressed with what he's achieved. you can see from his reaction Aku is affected and shows that even though he's acting tough, he hasn't really escaped his past.

This is where the mind games begin.

Look at Akutagawa's face when he enters ,you can see that he is really nervous about confronting Dazai here, and Dazai pointedly ingoring him like he's nothing when he tries to intimidate him really just emphisises that Dazai doesn't see him as a threat.

Akutagawa tries so hard to be in control here, Dazai is chained up, sententenced to death, has no friends or allies there to help him while Akutagawa has the whole mafia at his back. But still its clear that Dazai is 100% in control of the situation.

Akutagawa hitting Dazai, threatening to kill him, saying how he is no threat, we would never see him do this kind of thing later in the series. Dazai here very carefully brings him right back to the state he was in before he left.

Dazai bringing out every old insecurity, dismissing everything Akutagawa strived to achieve and the strength he uses to justify his existance. We see Akutagawa trying to justify why he doesn't need Dazais approval, how he's a traitor and doomed to die anyway, but Dazai just talks about how disapointing and pathetic Akutagawa was as a student and for Akutagawa who's ability and talent are what he values most thats a deep wound. Akutagawa is trying so hard to control the present but the fact that Dazai's words affect him so much shows that he is still very much trapped by the past.

An important note is that we know for a fact this is Dazai lying. He says multiple times in the Dark Era that he sees huge potential in Akutagawa and that he thinks he could be the strongest ability user in the port mafia. All of this is Dazai deliberately getting under Aku's skin, breaking down the confidence he built in the years after Dazai left.

But what Dazai said that cut the deepest was comparing him to Atsushi.

The fact that Dazai had taken on another pupil after him, and that he said he was better means that Akutagawa was just weak. And we see how after this Akutagawa developes his hatred of Atsushi since to him Atsushi is everything he despises but some he won Dazai's approval.

Akutagawa is brought right back to how Dazai used to train him, the hell he went through to earn Dazai's acceptence, and somehow this random weak coward gets everything he ever wanted dispite everything he did to earn it.

By the Guild arc we see that Akutagawa is now completely motivated by Dazai again. This is also important because he is a lot less cocky here, it's clear that losing to Atsushi really has pushed him to start fighting with everything he has.

On Mobi Dick we see that Akutagawa has completely abandoned the mafias orders and is solely focused on killing Atsushi.

We also see just how much Akutagawa's attitude has changed from when he met Dazai in the prison, here even just the chance to talk to Dazai makes him throw everything else away. He's desprate and confused and needs to know why Dazai would choose Atsushi over him.

Then, Akutagawa learns a bit of Atsushi's past.

This is it, I think that here (even though he would never admit it) Akutagawa kind of realises that him and Atsushi want exactly the same thing, but to Akutagawa approval has to come from Dazai while for Atsushi even he doesn't know how or when it will be enough.

Atsushi thinks his life has no value unless he saves others, Akutagawa thinks his has no value unless he kills others. Both are wrong and both need to learn that from the other.

(Atsushi and Akutagawa's dynamic is also incredibly well done and will probably get an analysis of its own but this one is too long already)

Now I want to talk about why Dazai did this, why he dragged Akutagawa back to this state even after he has seemingly moved on. I don't think it was just to control him (though thats probably part of it), I think it was because he knew that the only person who could save Akutagawa was Atsushi.

Very important point: Dazai was not the one who made Akutagawa think his life had no value, or the reason he was so eager to kill. Both of these are part of Akutagawa long before he meets Dazai. We see in The Heartless Cur that Akutagawa was already very quick to kill and had no will or reason to live.

In the Dark Era Dazai tells Oda that he wants Akutagawa to learn to temper his rage and not always jump to killing.

“That skill user Akutagawa was one of your subordinates, right?” I said, tracing my memory. “I heard he had a rather aggressive skill…but even he’s no match for them?” “Akutagawa—he’s like a sword without a sheath.” Dazai grinned from ear to ear. “He’ll surely become the Mafia’s strongest skill user in the notso-distant future, but for now he needs someone who can teach him how to put that sword away.” I was surprised. I had never heard Dazai openly speak so highly of one of his men like that before. “Is he really that talented?” “When I first saw him over in the slums, I was horrified. His talents are extraordinary, and his skill is extremely destructive. Plus, he’s stubborn. If I’d left him to his own devices, he would’ve ended up a slave to his own powers until he destroyed himself.” Dazai didn’t freely make people work under him, period; much less a boy on the verge of starvation in the slums. But Dazai seemed to have his own reasons for doing it.

Notice how Dazai says he needs "someone" to teach him to sheath his sword, not that "he" can/will teach him.

Dazai seemingly regressing Akutagawa back to being 100% dependent on his approval was because Akutagawa never really escaped it. He was still just an attack dog who killed indescriminatly and whose self worth was tied entirely to his role in the mafia. If Dazai had just left him alone he probably would have ended up destroying himself just like Dazai predicted. But when Dazai met Atsushi he knew he had found a way to save Akutagawa too.

This is not me (or Asagiri) trying to justify Dazai's abuse of Akutagawa. Dazai himself says about Atsushi's headmaster that the methods he used were horrific and unforgivable, but that doesn't mean they didn't shape who Atsushi is now.

In the mafia Dazai wouldn't have cared about how he "saved" akutagawa, he says it to Akutagawa himself.

He immediately pointed the gun at Akutagawa, who was still on the ground. “I have this friend who’s supporting several orphans all on his own, you see,” he continued, his weapon still drawn and aimed at the boy. “Akutagawa, I’m sure Odasaku would’ve been patient enough to give you the guidance you needed had he been the one who’d found you on the brink of starvation in the slums. That would have been the ‘right’ thing to do. But ‘righteousness’ doesn’t take very kindly to me. And there’s only one thing people like me do to useless subordinates.” Dazai mercilessly pulled the trigger the moment he finished his sentence.

We even see this play out in BEAST, Oda and the ADA are able to really help Akutagawa and teach him the value of life both his own and other peoples, what Dazai did wasn't nessacary or justified. But it is what happened and can't be changed.

Obviously Dazai was also struggling with horrific things of his own, but that doesn't change or excuse what he did. Everything he put Akutagawa through left a mark, so to undo that damage and let him move on he needed to make him and Atsushi truly understand eachother by breaking down the walls Akutagawa had put up.

In the end this isn't a moral exploration, good and bad in general have very blurry meanings in bsd (and in real life). I just wanted to deconstruct this since it's such incredible writing that I almost never see talked about. And it's extrememly important for understanding the latest chapters.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd character analysis #bsd characters #Akutagawa #bsd akutagawa #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai #atsushi and akutagawa #bungou stray dogs atsushi #bsd atsushi #bsd the dark era #damn this went longer then i thought it would #honestly i could go on much longer #there is just so much to talk about with these guys

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sneakyboymerlin · 2 days ago

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Arthur saves people and it justifies his wealth and power. Merlin saves people and it’s a lowly peasant trying to be important. I see how it is 🚬-_-

#fandom critical #like yeah merlin is an unreliable narrator… he thinks that arthur is going to become better LOL #but this person spends all their time defending arthur refusing to lift the ban so that’s clearly not what they take issue with #i wish i could remember exactly what i blocked them for :/#they’re one of those merthurs who puts on a gwen pfp to avoid accusations but never talks about her + wants her gone from the story #unless it’s to emphasize that arthur could never possibly be interested in her and was never in love with her and to otherwise devalue her #importance to the characters (only white boys can move people emotionally ALWAYS REMEMBER THIS!!!)#merlin is also the Reluctant Hero archetype from the start… he accepts his narrative role eventually sure but he still doesn’t see himself #as The Hero. he sees Arthur as the Important one. he does not have a hero complex he is just trying to help LMAO there is such a difference #fellas is every instance of doing the right thing a sign that you have a Complex or Fetish?#we have to stop like. medicalizing human existence. or whatever this is… idk at this point :/ touch grass #but anyways his speech in 1x05 should’ve disillusioned anyone and everyone of thinking he has a Savior Complex come on now #fellas is it wrong to be uniquely positioned to save someone’s life. fellas is it wrong to try to end the genocide against your people #despite your misgivings/lack of self-confidence #dear god. pick up a book #also the sheer double standard where arthur’s heroism (propagating that arthur has earned being king therefore unequal wealth/power)#is treated as natural and goes unquestioned #whereas merlin’s is held under such horrendous scrutiny. it is OBVIOUSLY classist.#arthur is trying to justify inequality by justifying to himself that he’s ‘earned’ his higher status by Being A Hero #meanwhile merlin is saving everyone including arthur himself with no reward and no recognition simply in the hopes that it ends the wars #namely the war against magic #it’s just such a shallow brainwashed read i needed to waterboard it 😭

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montelotl · 2 days ago

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chance crush hcs! ❤️🎲

• He’s a passionate dork and nerd, wrapped in that cute dicey hoodie of his. Despite his bursts of confidence from rolling a Nat 20, Chance can’t help but gasp when you congratulate him. Especially with your supportive hand squeezing his broad shoulder.

Poor man forgets how to breathe, making everyone at the table raise an obvious eyebrow. The guy’s face is painted red, matching the dice he just tossed out.

• The man calls everyone ‘maiden’ or ‘sir’ or ‘liege’, but the GnG master purposely bows in front of you while greeting. Embarrassing at first, you’ve shrugged it off at this point and lower your head in tandem.

One time, before he could even speak, you bowed and gently grabbed his hand. Lowering your lips, you grazed the soft skin of Chance’s knuckles.

“Good afternoon, dear dungeon master.” Your voice drops an octave, fighting back a chuckle.

It was meant as a joke, but once you looked up…

Chance was clutching his mouth. Cheeks flared red, his brain was trying to find the appropriate response to a fantasy he’s dreamed about.

• Chance purposely leaves a seat, next to him, open for you during GnG. But if Lux or Parker steal the stool, he’ll make up a bad random reason to move.

“No offense, Lux… your ring light is brighter than usual. I’ll just sit next to (Y/N) today.”

“Parker! What did I tell you about bringing another board game? If you don’t respect my passion, then I’ll sit next to someone who does!”

“Oh! Just realized this is not the proper position to conduct any dungeoning. Just going to—“

—> Picks up the stool and plops it right next to you.

• We all have to agree that he would write roleplay of his original characters with yours.

The times he does get to be a normal participant, he’s giggling with you about what your blorbos will do this session. Maybe they’ll hold hands to get across a ravine? Share a bed? Kiss to get the snake venom out from their tongue?

Chance, kicking his feet, at writing how his OC will sweep your OC off their feet.

• If he catches you flirting with another object, he’ll think nothing of it. Everyone in this damn house is dating each other.

BUT, it does sting a bit when you’re indulging in a game with someone else. Their hyperfixations, their infatuations. Indulging in that person’s passions, having utter fun, looking deeply in their eyes when they talk about their obssession—

Chance forces himself to have a cheery smile in present company.

“You … sure have a knack at this, huh (Name)?”

• Ending on a positive note, Chance loves giving praise. Even if he doesn’t have any reason to speak to you—

“H-Hey (Name)! Cool socks, today! Trying to slide around in style?”

“(Name)! … Um… Just wanted to say nice play last session… haha!”

But the holy damn pick-up lines—

“Holy crit… I failed my saving throw against your irresistible charm.”

“Another 20? You sure you didn’t distract me like you always do?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t check your character sheet today. Call it cheating to have your stats match how you perfect you are.”

Even if they end in cheesy pick up lines, crickets absolutely chirping… your heart grows another size at his adorkableness.

#guys idk how he became my favorite #I NEED A PRIVATE SESSION #chance #chance date everything #date everything #date everything hcs

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shelovesmytears · 12 hours ago

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“You owe me now!”

Azul's acting far too confident for someone talking about a simple glass of water.

"You can't be serious," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“That's right! You totally set us up, y'know!” Grim yowls besides you. "Floyd charged at me outta nowhere!”

You weren't even in the room when it all happened. How did Grim supposedly knock Floyd's plate over and break the single glass of ‘extremely fresh’ water on it? A glass that, conveniently, cost a fortune and held some sort of “sentimental value” for Jade on top of that?

You had stepped away to use the restroom. For The Sevens’ sake.

"Now, now," Azul hums, his voice smoother than it has any right to be. "Weren't you and Grim taken in as one student? You truly should take better care of one another. But don't worry—I'm willing to help."

He takes a familiar contract from beneath his desk and slides it across the polished surface.

"Sign here, and your debt's gone."

“There's no way I'm signing any of your contracts,” you deadpan, sliding the paper back.

“I assure you,” he says, returning it like a ping-pong ball. "That's the best path you can take."

“Heck, no!” Grim snarls, leaping onto the table and smacking the contract down to the floor. "You just wanna make her work for you! Then who's gonna bring me tuna?”

“Grim!” You drag the gremlin back onto your lap before he can lunge again.

Azul sighs, retrieving his paper with theatrical patience. He dusts it off, lays it flat again, and adjusts his glasses.

“As tempting as this might sound,” he says, his voice now dry. “I had something far less demanding in mind.”

A pause.

"Join me for club activities after class tomorrow. And we'll call this… forgiven.”

Another pause.

“...That's it?” You ask.

"That's really it," he says brightly, gesturing to the signature box on the paper. "You don't have to read the fine print—your signature's sufficient."

But Grim's quick to cut in. “Don't do it, minion! He's not telling you every—” He scrambles back onto the desk, but you catch him mid-pounce and drop him back on your lap.

“And what if I don't join you?” You turn to Azul—a flicker of curiosity has lit up—and lean in, elbows on the table.

Azul mirrors you, steepling his fingers. "...Then you can either repay me in cash… or work at Mostro Lounge for two months.” He smiles, his voice lower. "And I decide which.”

Well...

Play a few board games with Azul or spend two whole months serving overpriced drinks while dodging Floyd's mood swings and Jade's endless rants about mushrooms? Because you simply can't afford that amount of money right now.

...Unfortunately, you'd rather go with the first option.

"Fine," you click your pen. Grim lets out a strangled gasp as you sign.

“It's a deal!” Azul snatches the contract like it's made of gold—is it?—eyes shining as he examines your signature. “You won't regret this. I’ll be sure to pick you up after class tomorrow.”

You glance down at Grim. He stares up at you, betrayed, shaking his head.

Just a few games.

That's all this is… You hope.

But the next day?

You definitely didn't expect Azul to be standing right outside your classroom.

“Azul?!” You jerk back, startled.

"Good evening," he greets you far too cheerfully, as if you didn't just feel your soul ascend. "I'm glad to see you. Right on time, as I am!”

“...Right on time?” You echo, frowning.

Wait a second—was he waiting out here the whole time?

Your eyes meet—and for a moment, everything slows. The neatly slicked-back silver hair, the slightly-too-glossy skin, and… is that cologne?

“Surely, you haven't forgotten,” Azul pauses, then suddenly pulls out the contract from behind his back. "You willingly agreed to join me for club activities.”

His silvery-blue eyes shine with something foreign. But it's the little things that ultimately gave him away—his hand trembles as he holds the contract in your face, a twitch pulls at the corner of his smile, and one bead of sweat trails down his temple.

Oh. You now understand why he pulled such a dramatic scene yesterday.

A faint smile curls on your lips.

"Of course. I've been looking forward to it all day," you say, your voice sugar-sweet.

Azul blinks. His eyes widen—just for a second—then his composure snaps back into place. He clears his throat. Adjusts his glasses. “...Shall we?”

He reaches for your bag, hoisting it up with a determination as stiff as his posture. His eyes avoid yours completely.

Just a few games.

That's really all this is.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #when I'm entering an emotionally constipated contest #and azul ashengrotto is my opponent

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lush-escape · 19 hours ago

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This is Me Trying

Part 2

pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

a/n: I'm realizing just how long this is going to be :') anywhoooo thank you to my sister for her help with this chapter bc I was stuck. you the best @clawdee

prev: part 1

next: part 3

Okay, hearing Damian and Dick talk about Jason feeling a rush while racing was starting to make sense. You watched Dick’s race alongside your friend. Hearing the roar of the engines, reverberating deep in your chest, was a thrill you hadn't experienced before. Watching the cars take off was a whole other experience. The wind rushing passed you, the intensity that hung thick in the air - it was all starting to make sense. You, your friend, and Tim rushed down that quarter mile stretch to meet Dick at the unofficial finish mine. Damian had stayed back with Jason in preparation for his own race.

Dick had come in second in his trans am but you would think he'd came in first place, winning that massive pot of money, with the way he picked your friend up and swung her around. There was an automatic smile on your face, unable to control yourself around Dick’s own excitement.

“What'd ya think?” Tim asks with a nudge of his elbow.

“It was… exciting.” You answer with a light laugh. “I'm starting to see the appeal.”

“Knew you'd come around. It's hard not to.” Dick laughs a bit breathlessly. His pupils are blown wide with adrenaline.

“Hey,” Tim gets the attention of the group, “Bikers are starting their race. Wanna stay down here and watch Jay win?” There's a confident smile on his face. “Or watch from the start?”

“Let's wait down here. It'll be easier for Damian to find us. And you know Jason gets all nervous when we watch him start.” Dick jokes with his brother.

Even from over a thousand feet away the loud cacophony of motorcycles was easy to hear. The sound sent a small chill down your arms causing goosebumps to raise. If watching cars race was exciting, you were sure bikes would be even better.

And you were right.

Watching Jason cross that imaginary finish line was other worldly. Despite his face being covered by his matte black helmet you could feel how focused he was as he sped by. His aura was intimidating, fierce.

Your small group huddled around him as he parked his bike and accepted his winnings - a nice stack of cash. Dick clapped his shoulder as Jason tore his helmet off and shook out his hair. You never in your life wanted to run your fingers through someone's sweaty hair as badly as you did in this moment. You barely catch the way he sizes you up again before his attention is back on his brothers.

“See,” your friend sidles up next to you with a knowing grin on her face. “I told you that you'd have fun. The after parties are even better.”

Right. The after party. Not typically your thing but you've already been surprised once tonight.

The “after party”, you find out, is being held at a random person's house. Dick tells you who the person is on the ride over but the information doesn't stick. Not that it matters much anyway. The house is massive, daunting, with a beautiful lush front yard that's currently being puked on by a random that had too much to drink.

The inside is almost as nice as the outside. At least you're pretty sure it is but it's hard to tell when every square inch is filled with drunk bodies. Already you've walked by at least three different couples making out. Yeah, you're definitely going to need a drink.

“Wow, so this is like.. a really stereotypical house party.” You joke, entering the kitchen with your friend and Dick. Every counter top is full of drinks ranging from Hawaiian Punch to tequila. Red solo cups fill every empty space.

“Oh yeah, it makes it more fun that way.” Dick jokes back as he helps your friend pour her drink. She orders him around in the sweetest of ways and he listens with hearts in his eyes.

You're almost jealous of the both of them.

You're helping yourself to a drink when you hear an almost familiar deep voice.

“Took ‘im home.”

“Thanks, Jay.” Tim sounds relieved. Right, Damian is definitely too young for a house party. “B would've had my head.”

The two pass by the kitchen in a blur. Looking over your shoulder you make eye contact with Jason. It lasts a split second, probably half of a split second. But it feels like it lasts an eternity. Something sharp shoots through you, like an electric current. You almost think Jason's eyes soften the moment he catches sight of you but then you tell yourself you're imagining things with the way he narrows his eyes and walks off with Tim. You can hear his heavy boots against the hardwood.

There's a brief moment of silence before your friend and Dick start snickering together.

“You totally have a thing for him.” Your friend calls you out. You gasp. Sputter. How dare she?

“I do not!” You defend yourself with warm cheeks. You look away and busy yourself trying to chug your drink. Not at all suspicious.

“You totally do.” Dick snorts. “Just a fair warning - Jason is only someone you go after if you're serious. He's not a one and done kinda guy.”

“I don't even know him! I'm not gonna ‘go after him’.” You roll your eyes at the two. ‘Not a one and done kinda guy…’ At least he's pretty to look at. And at least the alcohol in your system helps you relax.

And so the night continues. You get to know Dick and Tim better and they're easily becoming fast friends. You've already given Dick your “best friend seal of approval” and you make a mental note to ask your friend where she found someone like him. You excuse yourself to the restroom and when you come back your friend and Dick are gone.

“They said something about going upstairs really quick…” Tim offers you a sympathetic smile. And you can't fault your friend so you shake your head with a smile of your own.

“No worries, I'm gonna get another drink. Want anything?” You offer.

Tim shakes his head, “No, I'm good. Thanks though.”

The kitchen is empty, as are half the bottles that litter the counters. You make a small noise of disappointment before you concoct some sort of drink. Sprite, fruit punch, vodka, and what might be pink lemonade but you aren't entirely sure.

“Looks good,” you hear a voice from behind you. It's low, raspy, and unfamiliar. “This is way better though.”

You turn to see a strange guy behind you at the entrance of the kitchen. Plain in every way, someone you haven't seen all night. He's holding out a cup to you, offering whatever was inside of it.

“Oh, thanks. But I've got my own.” You hold up your own cup with a smile.

He shakes his head and his smile oozes condescending douchebag. “C'mon, this is way better. It's not even that strong. Promise.”

Ugh.

“No, seriously. I'm fine. I have my own.” Your voice is a little sharper, much less friendly. Your smile drops into a flat expression. He's standing next to you now and he reeks of cigarettes and alcohol.

“No, no, no. You're not listening. Try it. Come on.” Now his tone is sounding more serious.

‘This place was packed twenty minutes ago, where the fuck did everyone go?’ You look around for anyone you might know but your friend is upstairs with Dick and Tim is no longer sitting on the couch you left him on. Fuck.

“I said try it.” He's trying to lift the cup to your mouth now. His tone and expression are serious, he's no longer trying to be friendly. You were starting to think this type of situation only happened in movies and yet here it is, happening to you.

“Dude. Seriously, fucking back off.” Your voice leaves no room for argument but he doesn't get the hint.

His hand is on your wrist one second and the next he's on the ground.

‘What the fuck?’

You stare wide eyed at Jason who's towering over the creep with his hand curled into a tight fist. There's a mean scowl on his face as he flexed his fingers and you realize… He just punched that guy in the head.

taglist: @theendofthematerialgworl

#jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #lizzy writes

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shaddork · 2 days ago

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Wedding Crashers

Dick GaysonxFem!Reader

Word Count: 8.7k Contains: Shenanigans, dresses and heels, suits, romcom like banter. Mildly suggestive content. Bleeding, vague injury description. Summary: What starts with wedding crashing, fake names, and pretend stories, unfolds into something far more real, and impossible to ignore. Masterlist

Everyone has a hobby, your hobby just happens to be significantly more entertaining than the average hobby. Really, it involves a lot of pretending, free food, hoping they have an open bar, and dancing. Wedding crashing is an art, at least, it’s an art to successfully crash someone's wedding One that you have nearly mastered.

Don’t go to the ceremony, show up some time through the reception, you’re less likely to be noticed there when everyone is dancing and drinking than you are when everyone is completely sober. Unless it’s a dry wedding, then you just have to get really creative with your bullshit story of who you know and how you know them.

It’s not something you can do super often, after all, you have to find the information for the weddings first, but a little bit of internet stalking and asking venues if they're available at a certain date solves that problem easily enough. Today, you’ve hit the goldmine. Not every wedding has an open bar, but this, this one certainly does. You didn’t even have to watch the bar to figure it out.

It was simply to luxurious to not, the waiters were carrying crystal trays for fucks sake. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was some famous or rich person's wedding. Actually, it might be. You hadn’t cared enough to check, you’d just heard from a friend of a friend there would be a wedding worth crashing here tonight.

Maybe your outfit isn’t as expensive as everyone else's, but you don’t think that you look like you don’t belong. The bartender had no issue forking over your first two drinks, and those attending who you hadn’t seen interact with the bride were more than happy to banter with you, anecdotes about the bride. Anecdotes you would use to build your made up stories when you inevitably ended up in conversation with someone who was actually important to the bride.

OF course, naturally, one of the friends of the bride, (Not a bridesmaid, but she certainly wanted to be), seemed skeptical of you. Which was fine, you’d just have to avoid her. Everyone else was eating your bullshit up. Your bluff of choice for tonight was that you took a couple college classes with the bride, the two of you weren’t that close anymore, but you were more than delighted that she’d invited you to the wedding.

Everything was going smoothly, until the wanna-be-bridesmaid caught you right outside the bathroom. You’d been drinking, and had broken the seal half an hour ago, so now you were stuck going to the bathroom more frequently than you would’ve liked.

“I’ve asked around, and no one here knows you. You’re crashing her wedding aren’t you?” Fuck. Yet, before you could try to come up with a lie for why the hell you were here, an angel swooped in to save the day. The second you got a good look at him, you weren’t convinced that he actually was an angel. Nobody, absolutely nobody, had any business being that attractive. He was outdoing the Bride, and all he was wearing was a simple tailored tux.

However you hadn’t seen him around the wedding yet, either he was a guest and was extremely late, or he was crashing the wedding, just like you were. The way he smiled at the woman with the force of a thousand suns, and placed a hand on your back screamed confidence. “Sorry we’re late. She got caught up picking out which dress to wear.”

Of course all it took was a hot guy flashing a smile, but hey, he was saving you from getting kicked out, so you played along. Stepping into his side, smiling meekly and nodding, “I can never decide when shopping so I got several and I just got these new earrings I wanted to wear. I couldn’t decide which dress went best with them.”

The stranger didn’t miss a beat, turning his head to you and softening his smile. Either he was really good at acting, or he actually thought you two were dating, because the way he was looking at you had your stomach fluttering and heart skipping a beat. Nobody had ever looked at you like that, and even if you didn't know who the hell this guy was, your body still reacted.

“You could have worn a trash bag and would have been the prettiest lady here.” A pause and then his attention was turning back to the guest, “Other than the bride of course. Her dress is just dazzling isn’t it? There was no need to try to fake a flush at his compliment. It happened naturally. You weren’t even sure how you would fake a flush like that.

His words seemed to do more than enough to dissuade the woman, “Of course! It’s my fault for assuming you were crashing. I’m so ditzy I forgot about plus ones,” And the woman was skittering away. Funny, how she’d been accusatory with you, yet the second this attractive stranger turned her attention on her she was just accepting whatever he said.

Pretty privilege at its highest. Maybe you just needed to befriend an unreasonably attractive man so that he could get you out of these situations

You watched the woman until she was out of sight, before exhaling and bursting out laughing. This really was a ridiculous situation. The type of thing you see in romance movies and never expect to happen in real life. So certainly this was going to end here. A cute anecdote to tell your coworkers and friends, nothing more.

“Thank you. Had you not stepped in I would have missed my third round of free wedding cake.”

He didn’t move his hand off your back, but he did smirk, “Well, I couldn’t let such a pretty lady suffer such a tragic fate. Someone has to protect cake connoisseurs.” He nudged you back towards the main room where everyone was dancing and talking, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “Besides, I think I technically qualify as a guest. The bride is either my distant cousin…or my former babysitter. Honestly, I might just be someone’s plus one who wandered too far from the bar. Either way, you’re my plus one now.”

Clearly you were wrong, and this happened in real life too. The charming, attractive, helpful guy took an interest in you, and within minutes he had you laughing again.

You knew he was lying, his story was so blatantly a lie, but you didn’t care, and let him rather expertly heard you towards an empty table for two. There were cards on the table, cards that certainly did not have your name on them, but he expertly pushed them away and then pulled out your chair, half bowing with a flourish.

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

“What sort of fake date would I be if I didn’t pull your chair out for you and fetch the next round of cake?”

“A terrible one, truly awful. Saving a damsel in distress. You’re missing the next round of drinks though, one must take advantage of the open bar.” The conversation was easy, light, joking, certainly not what you had expected to find tonight. Yet, you found yourself smiling at him, enjoying yourself more than you were anticipating already.

And the night was only beginning.

“You’re so right.” His grin still hadn’t disappeared, but he took a step backward. “Stay here. I’ll complete my duty and return with something fizzy and questionably garnished.”

“How do you know what I want?”

He paused mid-step, flashing the same grin at you that he had given the bridesmaidzilla, you definitely understood why she had backed down and let him go now. How anyone could say no to that sort of smile was beyond you. It was lucky he wasn’t using it for evil. “I don’t. But I'm confident enough to guess. Which is either charming or dangerous. I’ll have to wait for the jury’s decision on that one.”

You should have been ashamed, but as he disappeared into the crowd you found yourself looking at his ass. Not only was he unfairly handsome, he had a fantastic ass, and his tailored suit only accentuated it even more. Life really was unfair, wasn’t it?

A few minutes later he returned with two plates of cake balanced on his arm like he was a waiter at a restaurant who had spent too much time carrying more plates than hands could possibly hold, and two glasses in hand. He slid the cakes onto the table easily before holding the drinks out to you.

One of the drinks had a sprig of something green stuck in it like it was a tiny tree, and the other looked like plain champagne. “Option A: something botanical and pretentious. Option B: the safest bet in the room, the choice is yours m’lady.”

You found yourself giggling again at his choice of words. But you still chose the champagne leaving him with the questionably colored drink with a miniature tree, “I’ll take the one that won’t start a garden in my mouth.”

He mock-gasped, dramatically falling into his chair, holding one of his now empty hands over his chest as if you had mortally wounded him. “For someone crashing a wedding, you strangely have no sense of adventure.” He paused, then held his own glass toward yours for a toast. “Y’know, I feel like we’re two minutes away from getting engaged for the free drinks. Might as well give each other names before the vows.”

Embarrassingly, you snorted at his joke. Maybe he found that cute, you didn’t ask. “Is this where I find out your name is Steve?”

“I was going to give you a choice between first name basis or fake names, but now I think you only deserve to know my fake name.” His tone was teasing, light, you got the sense that if you asked for his first name, he’d give it to you anyways.

“Code names are way more fun anyway. It keeps the mystery of the whole situation. Makes it feel risky.”

He leaned across the table towards you, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips again, “you’re so right, risky is always more fun.”

You reached a hand out towards him for him to shake, before giving him the fake name that you used for every wedding that you crashed, “Lila Hart. Social chameleon. Occasional damsel.”

He took your hand, “Blade Dusk. Professional plus one. Amateur cake thief.”

For the second time that night since meeting Blade Dusk, you burst out laughing, “Are you a real person or a vigilante-themed perfume line?” Blade Dusk, sounded nothing like a real person's name, and somehow, that made the fact that was what he wanted you to call him so much better.

“Why not both? Imagine the ads.” He cleared his throat, deepening his voice to put on his best suave advertisement impression he could, “Try Blade Dusk now! For the sharp and sophisticated.”

This strange man that you had run into was certainly charming. Dangerously so, considering you were drinking with him and the weddings you crashed were where you truly let go. A break from the rather boring life of being a receptionist. He was fun, flirty, and overly attractive.

How was any wedding you crashed after this going to top this one?

“So then Lila Hart, when we’re asked how we met, what should we tell people? As such an alluring couple, we need to have an equally dazzling meet cute.” He leaned back into his chair, pursing his lips, the rest of his expression perfectly serious, coming up with his answer before you had a proper chance to respond, “We met when I was rescuing a cat from a tree.”

“You don’t strike me as a cat person.”

He sipped his drink, the same smirk from earlier playing at his lips once again, “She was very judgmental, exactly like you. I named her Brenda.”

“You named the cat Brenda? I could have come up with a better cat name than that.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “No, clearly I named the old lady who the cat belonged to Brenda. The cat was named Wrath. "You nearly choked on your drink when another laugh bubbled up mid sip. “Okay, fine, if you think you can do better then you try to come up with a dazzling story for how we met.”

You leaned in with a faux-dramatic whisper. This was going to be a whole performance, he’d given you a challenge, and you weren’t going to back down from a good challenge. “We met when I punched a guy at a flower shop.”

He squinted at you, “Very romantic.”

You put your hands up in the air dramatically, “He cut in line and tried to mansplain peonies to me, he deserved it! Then,” You turned your head to the side, speaking to an invisible audience member as fake as your invitation to the wedding, “ This one,” an accusatory finger pointed toward Blade, “clapped.”

He nodded, turning his attention to the fake audience member as well, playing along with your performance without so much as a blink, “Loudly, then I paid her bill for the flowers.”

“I took the flowers and ran.”

You almost expected him to stop playing along there, but he continued, “And I fell in love instantly.” He sighed, leaning back into his chair again and placing a hand over his heart, taking another sip of his drink and adding, “How could I not.”

You were giggling again. “Truly, a hallmark classic.”

“We’ll have a lifetime movie by next week.” He cleared his throat again, moving back into the same voice that he had used for the advertisement, “Come see Punched By Love in theatres near you. She just wanted peonies, he wanted justice. Together, they found something deadlier- romance.”

You bit your cheek to stop from laughing, but the sound still infiltrated your next words, “Clearly Petal to the Metal is a better title, do I at least let a slow-mo scene where I turn around with a bouquet and dramatic lighting?”

“Absolutely. Wind machine blowing on you, the whole works. Naturally it’s the same scene where I’m running to you in a soaking-wet suit.”

That earned another laugh, “Why are you wet?”

“I fell into a fountain.” He held his glass out to you, chuckling along with you, the two of you now in a fit of giggles as you clinked your glasses together. “Petal to the Metal will have to be our wedding hashtag now.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m marrying someone who thinks ‘Wrath’ is a good cat name.”

“You say that now,” he leaned over the table toward you, “But wait until I introduce you to the dog. After a slow dance with my lovely wedding date, of course.” The song playing had transitioned into a slow dance, and you were having so much fun that you hadn’t even noticed.

This was the first wedding you’d crashed that you found someone to slow dance with successfully. At least, someone that wasn’t a child.

You don’t hesitate, slipping your hand into his now extended one, abandoning your now empty flute of champagne and letting him lead you toward the edge of the dance floor. He steps closer, settling one of his hands at your waist. It was broad, steady, and comfortably warm.

He leads the dance effortlessly, moving together in a slow, easy rhythm, entirely too comfortable for a wedding that neither of you were invited to. There’s still space between you, but it’s closing slowly with each step of the dance. The laughter between the two of you from just moments before had faded, replaced by quiet.

He’s a good dancer. Certainly a better dancer than you were, at a minimum, he was much more graceful than you.

“Do you do this kind of thing often?”

His expression shifts, he’s still smiling, but it’s not as bright and cheery as before, gentler, older, a remnant of something unspoken. “Not since…a long time ago.” He doesn’t sound like he’s pretending anymore.

You’re pretty sure that you aren’t pretending either, ignoring the other people around you. It’s only the music, his hands, and the weight in your chest that hadn’t been there before. You take the last step and close the remaining space between the two of you, resting your head against his shoulder.

You don’t speak, don’t need to. Just dancing along to the music with him until the tone of the songs changes. Even then, the two of you don’t stop dancing, the wobble, the cha cha slide, the chicken dance, just jumping, swaying, and him spinning you. Time blurred together, drinks blurred together.

The next hour or two was warm gold and laughter, whatever drinks Blade brought back that he thought you’d like, at one point he stole a centerpiece of one of the tables. You hadn’t even asked about it, just raised your brows at him. He grinned and claimed it was “for symbolic reasons. It’s not like they’re going to use it after this”. You weren’t sure that it didn’t belong to the venue itself rather than the couple.

As attractive as he was, it was bound that at some point someone was going to steal him away from you. And someone did, dragging him into a group dance. You slipped away, unnoticed, stepping onto a balcony. The music was still audible behind you, the air cooler on the balcony.

Not that it bothered you, you had indulged in more than enough champagne that you felt warm, even if the air outside wasn’t.

Your heels had come off at some point, leaving you barefoot, breathing in the faint scent of someone else's cigarette that had been smoked here recently.

“Should’ve figured I’d find you out here,” Blade, you hadn’t heard him come out. HIs voice was quieter than it was inside, no longer needing to speak over the noise of the reception.

You glanced back at him. He was leaning against the doorframe, his Jacket had gotten lost at some point during dancing, undershirt half -untucked. Significantly messier now than when he had introduced himself to you as Blade Dusk. Yet somehow, he was more attractive this way, previously pristine and now slightly sweaty from all the dancing you’d been doing.

Your state was likely similar, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Tonight had been fun, and it was sad that the night was ending. You wished it could just go on forever.

“Needed air, and a break from our Oscar campaign.”

He stepped forward, leaning on the railing next to you, attention rapt on you, nothing else. “I was starting to lose the plot anyway.” A beat of silence, then he was speaking again. “I lied earlier. I’m not related to anyone here. Not the bride, not a plus one. Not even a very charming distant cousin twice removed.”

“It was sort of obvious.” You were smirking at him now, finally your turn to give him a smug look.

That got a soft laugh from him, one that faded too quickly. “Guess I'm not as smooth as I thought.” Another beat passed. “Truth is, I come to these sometimes. Not often. Only when I feel like I’m forgetting what happiness looks like.”

“You…watch people's happiest day of their lives to remind yourself love exists?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it wasn’t with a joke like you had come to expect from him throughout the course of the night. “I don’t get invited to many weddings. Most people I love don’t make it that far.”

The words sat between you, heavy. Even if you had spent the night laughing with him, you really didn’t know who he was, didn’t know anything about him. Despite that, something in your chest cracked open for him anyways.

Unable to find the words, you didn’t say anything, just stepped a little closer, and without thinking about it, you kissed him. Clumsy, off center, and more than a little drunk, but it was warm. He kissed you back, wrapped one hand around your waist, tangled the other in the fabric of your dress.

The kiss wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t slow, and it certainly wasn’t careful. Two drunken strangers kissing, that's what it was. Yet somehow, it was the best kiss that you’d ever had.

You paused, mumbling into the kiss, “I think I’m drunk.” You didn’t move away though, neither did he. Lips still pressed together.

“Yeah, me too.”

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you wanted to.

You’d slept off what was inevitably going to be a hangover. You slept so long that when you woke up next the sun was already setting again. You were still in your dress from the wedding, one earring missing, eyeliner running, lipstick smudged. But hey, at least you didn’t have a headache and you didn’t feel like throwing up.

Downside, you didn’t remember getting home. You also didn’t remember anything that happened after you kissed the sexy stranger - Blade - on the balcony of that venue.

Realistically, you should get up and shower. But you don’t get out of bed, laying there and staring at the ceiling. You weren’t going to just stop crashing weddings when you had the chance, no. But you really didn’t think any wedding you went to after this could top this one. The night had been perfect. Quite literally perfect.

You were entirely sure that when you told your coworkers, friends, family, whoever, about the night they would think you were making it up. Hell, you could actually pitch it to some movie studio and it could become the next big rom com.

A damsel in distress being saved by a charming stranger, joking at a table while stuffing your face with cake, dancing the night away, ending it on a kiss (even if the kiss was because he was sad).

It almost didn’t feel real. It was too perfect. Maybe you were entirely delusional and had simply made the man up in your drunken state. Maybe the venue slipped something into your drink. Maybe, just maybe, you were just hallucinating for no reason. If you did, you seriously needed to get a new therapist.

But it felt real, somewhere, somehow, you knew it was real. There were no photos on your phone, no proof. Yet somehow that was okay. It was a memory to be cherished by you, and Blade. And nobody else needed to have any opinions on the night.

The fake names, they were just the cherry on top of everything. Lila Hart was going to have to be retired, you’d need to come up with a new fake name. She could end the night with Blade Dusk, as ridiculous of a name as you got, and be happy. You, well you had to go back to your boring ass receptionist job in the morning.

You weren’t the only one thinking about the previous night.

Dick - Nightwing - was done with patrol, yet despite that he found himself laying on the rooftop of some random building, and staring up at the sky like it held some sort of answers for him.

He’d crashed weddings before, so why had this one been so different? The kiss maybe? The fact that you’d been willing to let him pretend to belong there? “It was sort of obvious” , yet you were perfectly content to let him play pretend with you for the night.

And you liked him, enough to dance with him, flirt, play. That's what it had been, a game. A sweet, enjoyable roleplay, without any of the sexual aftertext. That's why the two of you had ended the night with no way to find each other. No phone numbers, no real names, no real information exchanged.

The only souvenirs he had were an earring he slipped off you before you ran off in a taxi like you were fleeing a crime scene, and the centerpiece he had stolen. Well, not really stolen. It wasn’t stealing when your adopted father owned the venue.

There were definitely more entertaining jobs than a receptionist at a blood donation center. But hey, it paid the bills. It paid surprisingly well actually. Most days you end up playing a solo game of “How Long Can I pretend to Work?”.

Your entire job is to make sure people get checked in for their appointments before going to the intake nurse, and making appointments on the phone. Why the hell people made appointments when it was a walk-in thing? You weren’t really sure. But they did, on occasion.

The door to the building opens, but before you have a chance to look up “Lila Hart,” Even after just one night a month ago, you’d recognize that voice anywhere, “The most scandalous receptionist in the tri-state area.”

He’s somehow already leaning over the desk toward you like he’d been here for five minutes. Sunglasses still on, hair perfectly in place, lopsided grin, and a velvet box between his fingers. Your day was already wildly more entertaining than it was before.

“Blade Dusk. Still going by that ridiculous name?”

“Only on special occasions. Like when I return earrings I took right out of a beautiful womans ear. Very romantic, very bold of me.”

You look at the box for a moment, before snatching it from his fingers, flipping it open. Sure enough, he had put your missing earring - that he’d apparently stolen without you remembering - in a ring box. “You literally stole jewelry off my body.”

“Don’t make it weird, Lila. It was the same thing as the centerpiece I took. A borrowed memento, like a very suave, very emotionally-well adjusted thief.” The same teasing, lighthearted tone that he had at the wedding was present. Yet you found yourself playing along, disregarding the fact you were supposed to be working, you were supposed to be being professional for the moment.

“And that very suave, very emotionally-well adjusted thief returns the earrings he takes?”

“To donate blood actually. The earring was just a happy accident. Getting to flirt with the pretty receptionist is always a bonus,” You couldn’t tell if he was lying, or if it was just a coincidence he was here. But if it was a coincidence he was here, had he been carrying the earring around with him for the entire month just hoping that he’d run into you again?

“You do realize this isn’t a bar, right? You don’t flirt your way through blood donation.”

“Oh sweetheart, that sounds like a challenge.” And with the wave of your hand towards the intake nurse, and he walks over her way. It’s fascinating really, watching him charm the intake nurse, purposefully botch the health questionnaire so he has to redo it three times, and stretch out in the donation chair like it’s his own personal throne.

Halfway through the draw he calls over to you with a dramatic sigh, “Lila? If I don’t make it, tell the next bride she was a close second.”

Your coworkers were so going to have questions about this later. But for now you just rested your chin in your hand, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, pretending to be busy so that you don’t have to respond.

When he returns he has a fresh bandage on his arm and a juice box in hand. Leaning back over the desk again, this time as far as he could possibly get to you before it would officially be weird considering there was a counter between the two of you. “So, there’s a wedding next weekend. Outdoor venue. Very tasteful, or maybe tacky, there’s no way to tell until we see the cake.”

“Planning on crashing another one so soon?”

“Only if my favorite co-conspirator says yes.”

He has you laughing again. What in the world is going on? You didn’t even have champagne to blame this time. “You really don’t know when to quit.” You had officially decided you didn’t want him to quit though. This was significantly more fun.

“Never. Especially not with a girl who fake-flirted with me in front of an entire wedding reception we weren’t invited to, then fled the scene like a very attractive fugitive.”

You shake your head, but there's a smile spread across your face that you just can't help. You’d failed to act like this wasn’t the highlight of your week, if not month. This certainly wasn’t professional, but he was the only donator in the building for the moment. “I’ll go, but I get to pick your next fake name.”

“Deal. But only if you can top Blade Dusk . It’s going to be hard.”

“That’s what she said.” Damn, you were trying to cut down on middle school grade humor. And you’d been doing so well lately.

“I love it when you talk to me like a middle school boy.”

You slid a post it note and a pen towards him, “Write down the details and I’ll meet you there. If you can find me, that is.”

He scribbles the information down on the post it, folds it once, then flicks it back across the desk. “No GPS. No backup. Just vibes.” He starts backing away towards the door, “Don’t be late Miss Hart.”

The post-it note went into the same pocket as your newly returned earring.

You show up to the next wedding the same way you do every wedding. A little while into the reception. Whoever was in charge of this wedding definitely had a pinterest board titled “elevated whimsy”, string lights, white marble panels on the lawn for the dance floor, an entire jazz quartet playing a song you don’t recognize.

You don’t look for Blade, no, you let him come to you, a challenge to come find you, just as you had told him at your job. He - quite literally - appears from behind a hedge, with two champagne flutes, and grinning like he’s been waiting to deliver this line all night. Maybe he had been. “Lila Hart, you’re late. I was beginning to think I got stood up by my favorite fake girlfriend.”

“You have multiple fake girlfriends? I thought I would be more than enough.”

“You are,” He hands you one of the flutes of champagne, offering you his million dollar grin, “But I'm dramatic, and I needed to make you jealous.”

“Of an imaginary harem?”

“Of course, but we’re exclusive, promise. Just me, you and a few stolen napkins.”

You don't mean to, but you still laugh at him. “In that case I was very jealous.”

He offers you his arm like it’s an old habit, like you two have done this a million times. As if it was a routine, even though it’s something you’ve only done once before, and that was by accident, unplanned. This time is different, you find yourself wondering how the night will end compared to last time.

“You clean up nice Blade,”

“Please, it’s Maverick Thorn, if we’re going by tonight's registry. But you will always be the stunning Lila Hart.”

You mock a gasp at him, “You went rogue on me.”

“You were late. I panicked and told the bartender my name was Maverick.” Despite his accusatory tone, he leads you to one of the tables, one full of strangers and you sit down. Even without a plan in place, the two of you lie in tandem perfectly. Pretend to know the bride’s college roommate, the silly story about punching a guy in a flower shop, your shared dog named Pickles. He even goes so far as to make up a back injury that leaves you participating in a conga line by yourself.

For payback you tell someone his real name is Horace.

It’s stupid.

It’s ridiculous.

It’s perfect.

It’s not long until he’s leading you out onto the dance floor, shoes clicking against the marble. Just like the lying, he holds you like he’s done it before, like you fit there. As if this isn’t all one big elaborate game of pretend that you’ve started with a stranger. One of his hands is on your wait, the other holding your hand, fingers locked together carefully.

You try not to look too pleased. To not let the line between make believe and reality blur together too much, but you fail. Everything is just too perfect, too romantic. The music is slow, not so slow that it is sleepy, but enough to be intimate. You find yourself leaning in towards him, closer than you have to be. His hand slides down on your back, you let it.

“Are you always this good at pretending to be someone's date?” Your voice is low, almost a whisper. The volume it would be if you were whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

“Only yours.”

You roll your eyes, you aren’t smiling, except you most certainly are, and he’s most certainly seen his. His expression changing to match yours. He spins you once, not flashy, just smooth and simple, and you laugh in response. Breathless when he pulls you back in close, closer than you were before.

“If I start falling for you,” You murmur, “can I blame the open bar?”

“Sure,” He lowers his head, lowering his voice with it, mouth practically rubbing against your cheek, “But we both know it’s the dancing.”

You’re about to respond, something clever, something safe, something true, you aren’t sure what you were going to say. But someone interrupts, and you’re almost grateful for it, someone breaking the illusion so you don’t have to come up with an adequate response to the words you hadn’t even meant to be audible. “You two are just darling, when’s the big day?”

You freeze, body tensing automatically, brain flipping through a thousand possible replies. There’s no reason the idea that the two of you are engaged should be as terrifying as it it, you’re already here with him, and according to the fake stories that you’ve told through the night you already live together and have a dog together who you both care for like a child.

But before you can say anything, he speaks up, “Still figuring it out.” He says it so casually it’s almost aggravating. Not like the words didn’t mean anything, but like it was second nature. And it seems to do more than enough to please the woman, letting out a delighted hum and floating away.

And you’re stuck there staring at your own hand, held by his, fingers intertwined, like it belongs there. You rip your attention back up to him, and he seems perfectly calm, even as he leads you away from the dance floor and towards more champagne.

“That was bold.”

“So was the dress. You set the tone, I followed.”

“You just lied to someone's grandmother.”

“I gave her a beautiful memory, you’re welcome.”

You should laugh, you should roll your eyes. You should do something that distances this from reality, tows the line between the long elaborate bit that you’re doing, and your actual emotions. But it’s too late for that, somewhere along the way you’ve already crossed some sort of invisible line. “You know that wasn’t part of the bit,” You’re quiet now, the entire moment has slipped into something more intimate, “That line, the way you said it.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, eyes roaming over your facial features. “Yeah, but I wanted to say it anyway.”

You’re still holding hands, and you still don’t know his real name. But he’s not asking for yours either. Nothing about the story you’ve woven tonight is real, but somehow, despite everything, he’s real, he’s here, and so are you. You let that comfort you, let your thumb brush lightly over his knuckle.

He doesn’t let go, and neither do you.

It’s sometime after midnight when the two of you slip out of the side gate, both of you are drunk, having had more than your share of champagne. Your heels once tolerable, have declared war on your feet. They aren’t even the most impressive heels that you have, after all, outdoor venues and heels don’t mix well. Yet your feet are still protesting with every step you take.

Once Blade, now Maverick, notices and stops mid-stride. “Give me your shoes” he says

“Excuse me?”

“Your heels, hand them over.”

“You’re serious.”

“Always.” That statement was certainly not true. But still, you slip off your heels and hand them over to him. Despite being relieved of your shoes, he scoops you into his arms, one under your knees, the other behind your back, and just starts walking down the street like this is normal.

Nothing about this is normal. But nothing about him has been normal, not a single thing since the moment you met him, and you have rather willingly continued with the bit, long past when anyone else would have stopped.

“This is ridiculous.”

“You say that, but you’re not asking me to stop.”

You aren’t, not even a little. You’ve gone so far as to let your head rest lightly against his shoulder. It’s because of the champagne, it’s because of the ache in your feet. It’s certainly not because it feels good, because he smells like clean laundry and expensive cologne. It’s certainly not because his grip is gentle and it's making your chest feel all floaty and traitorous.

You speak again after a block, “So, how long have you been fantasizing about carrying me off into the night?”

“Since the first wedding,” His voice is steady and sure, something about his tone makes you think he’s genuine, “I just didn’t think I’d get the chance without kidnapping charges.” The joke tacked on at the end makes you snort, and he grins at you like that was the whole point.

He walks three blocks like that, not asking if you had anywhere to go, simply carrying you away from the venue, acting like it's the most natural thing in the world. He finally sets you down on the curb underneath a neon sign of some small diner that's still open this late. Your shoes are set down next to you, and he shrugs off his jacket, laying it over your legs without a word.

He just had to be the best date you’ve ever had, didn’t he? Even if it was all fake.

“You really committed back there,” you weren't entirely dropping the bit. You still weren’t going to give him your real name, not yet. Not if this game could go on longer. A much more glamorous version of yourself.

“You wore glitter, I had to rise to the occasion.”

You bump your knee against his. He bumps yours back, and you both stare ahead like you haven’t been tiptoeing around something that stopped truly being a game an hour ago.

“I don’t get invited to happy things often,” his voice is soft, almost distant, the words nearly sounding like they aren’t for you, “You’re making me greedy for them.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

He doesn’t respond, neither of you look at each other. He wasn’t trying to charm you with the words, they just were. So you reach out and hook your pinky through his and sit there for a while, longer than you should.

“I should call a cab.” He doesn’t argue, and with your free hand you open up your phone, using the most consistent app for this part of Gotham to call one. The only safe one actually, thanks to Wayne industries. As much as you heard about the Waynes from various people, you purposefully didn't pay attention. Billionaire drama just didn't interest you. Your time could be better spent finding more weddings to crash. But the app was helpful.

He doesn’t let go of your pinky though, not until the cab is pulling up and he’s hastily reaching into his jacket - still on your lap - pulling out a pen and scrawling a number across your arm with it. “Text me, If you want another date.”

“You mean another wedding?”

“Same thing at this point.” You smile, moving to stand up and give him the jacket back when he shakes his head, “keep it. Just in case you decide you don’t want another date. That way you’ll still have something to remember me by.”

You can't help the soft smirk that you look at him with, “What makes you think I’ll want a souvenir from a fake fiancé?”

“Because I looked great in that jacket, and I'm emotionally generous.”

You roll your eyes, and glance at the cab, but bend down towards where he’s still sitting on the curb. You’re barefoot, and tipsy, and not sure if this is the end of a lovely memory, or the beginning of a new adventure, but despite that you lean forward and kiss him. It’s not wild, it’s not dramatic. It’s slow, simple, chaste.

“Maverick Thorn.”

“Lila Hart.”

Then, just like a girl in a movie - or like a drunken, barefoot fool - with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders, his number written on your arm, and the taste of him on your lips, you slide into the cab. You don’t look back, but he watches you go. Maybe this time it’s not pretend at all.

Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Lila. From the wedding. The one you carried three blocks and kissed on the curb.

Blade Dusk: Lila Hart. I was beginning to wonder if I had imagined you.

Blade Dusk: Happy to know you aren’t a figment. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve hallucinated someone.

Blade Dusk: Though the curb moment was suspiciously cinematic.

Lila Hart: I debated not texting. Figured disappearing might keep the story cleaner.

Blade Dusk: Probably, but a cleaner story wouldn’t have your number in it.

Blade Dusk: So i’ll take the messy Version

Lila Hart: S o will I

Lila Hart: I think

Lila Hart: That offer for a third wedding still on the table?

Blade Dusk: Always

Blade Dusk: But we could try something else too. Something not involving stolen cake or linen suits.

And that's how you ended up with Blade Dusk on your couch three days later, takeout spread across the living room table, a rom com on the television. Both of you were in pajamas, about the total opposite of the first two times that you’d met. You two had agreed on one thing, you were keeping with the fake names. They were fun.

They were a way to try and hold on to the mystery a little longer. But the two of you were certainly getting to know each other, even outside of crashing weddings. Falling asleep tangled up on one anothers’ couches after a late night movie marathon, the two of you only ever got through one maybe two movies in an entire night. Both of you pause the movie every five minutes to discuss.

There were texts to, constant text conversations. Your phone buzzed endlessly, so you knew his did too. There were no labels on your relationship, yet there was near constant flirting, playful banter, debates, you’d started sending outfit of the day photos to each other even.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed. Especially not by Dicks family. And the teasing was endless, especially when they saw her call him “Blade Dusk.” Every single one of them referred to him as Blade Dusk every single chance they got. The next undercover mission he went on they tried to convince him to go by Blade Dusk.

He had refused that idea.

You certainly noticed the hints of something that he wasn’t telling you, beyond the fake name. There were subtle bruises on his knuckles, being busy almost every single night, things only got more obvious as you got to know him more. But he never gave you a proper answer, “Isn’t risky the fun part? Secrets are risky.”

Secrets were sexy.

You moved on anyway. You liked him, a lot, and you two were still tip-toeing around the fact that this was something real, something serious, something more than a game. A game where you crashed at each other's houses consistently, but a game nonetheless.

The way you crashed weddings started changing to, your cover up stories got more and more ridiculous, eventually you two started pushing the boundaries to see what you could get away with. One time Blade had managed to stand with the groomsmen, and gave a speech.

More than once you two had gotten caught kissing in a broom closet or stealing centerpieces from the wedding.

Somewhere along the way it had stopped being about the game, and more about spending time with each other. The game changed into seeing how close you could get to one another's identities before finding out, or tricking the other into revealing their real name. The nature of the game all depended on the moment itself. Truth or Dare became a favorite, especially after a movie and one too many glasses of wine.

Tonight was just one of many nights where Netflix was trying to entice you into choosing what to watch yet, and you were dutifully ignoring it. Wine drunk, warm, and snuggling Blade way too intimately for someone who didn’t know his real name. Somehow, that didn’t bother you.

“Truth of dare?” you murmured, poking him lazily on the cheek with one of your fingers.

“Should I be concerned?”

“Always, pick one.”

He stretched out a little, taking up more space on the couch and causing you to fall from his shoulder and into his lap. “Dare.”

You grinned, this was something you’d been thinking over. Some way to win the game, this could give you a huge hint, even his name flat out, or it could end up being a total waste of time. “Read me your last text message. No editing.”

“You know I text weird people.”

“You think I'm a weird person. Read it coward.”

He sighed, but pulled his phone from the couch cushion, unlocking it. He was still as cocky as always. It had been months now, and the only reason why neither of you had given in was a mean stubborn streak both of you had. You both wanted to win this game. “Don't read too much into it. It says; ‘ safe for now. Patrol finished early. Tell B I won’t make it to debrief. Needed to crash somewhere off grid.’ ”

Your brow furrowed, “That sounds intense. What kind of friends are you texting, and what the hell are you patrolling?”

He gave you a faux innocent look, the text sounded serious, but Blade Dusk was not a serious man. “Neighborhood Watch is very demanding.”

You couldn’t help the laugh, “Yeah, you’d be the kind of man who owns reflective gear and a clipboard.” You stared at him, trying to read between the lines, but he slipped his fingers underneath the hem of your pajama shorts (they were his really, you’d just stolen them). The brush of his fingers against your leg was just enough to let the topic slide.

“For the record, that was suspicious.” You were muttering, almost pouting.

“You’re suspicious.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“And yet,” he leaned down toward you, dropping his voice low, “You’re still on my couch.” He pressed a kiss to your nose, and was met with a pinch of your fingers on his arm.

“Fine. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What do you think about right before you fall asleep?”

He was quiet for a moment, fingers still lazily rubbing circles against your leg, “Sometimes,” his voice was soft, somber, more serious than you were used to him being, “I imagine what it’d be like if this was real. If I got to show up without pretending, no aliases, no jokes. Just…this.”

Your heart fluttered. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t think about it too. It wasn’t that how you felt about each other, or how you behaved was a joke, no. At some point, that had all become real. Yet, neither of you were able to give up the game that you had started months ago, a game that kept your relationship light and easy, pressure free.

“Sounds like someone's getting soft.”

He shrugged, “Or smart. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

He hesitated, eyes on your face, “What would your real name be if you ever gave it up?”

“That's a good one. But it is premature. Ask again when I don’t feel like winning.”

He groaned, but he was still smiling down at you, “So competitive,”

You laughed, and moved from his lap, standing up and stretching, “I’m going to bed. Are you coming?”

“Yeah.”

Your game continued for months longer, it had officially been over a year since the first wedding, and truthfully, you were about to break down and tell him your real name. Your friends and coworkers thought you were insane whenever you tried to explain who the hell Blade Dusk was, your family felt the same way.

But it was Blade who ended the game, giving you a win, and something else. It was late at night, you were usually asleep by now, and you weren’t exactly sure why you were awake, something had woken you up, for sure, you just didn't know what. So you got up, grabbed the bat you kept by your bed, and crept towards the living room.

It was lucky, really lucky, that you had spent so much time with him, that even in the dark, with only the light from the streetlamps that made its way through the living room window, you could recognize Blades figure. Otherwise he would’ve gotten a bat to the head.

The bat dropped to the ground with a clang, “Blade?”

He tried to turn to look at you, but hissed in pain when he did. You rushed over, and even though it was obvious - so obvious - that he was fully clad in nightwings outfit, but you were focused on the wound on his side, still bleeding on your couch and throw pillows.

Blade being Nightwing could wait for another time, it wasn’t important at that exact moment. Keeping him alive was important. Even the idea of having to live life without him again was horrifying. You’d had a nightmare more than once about that.

So you pressed a hand against it, that’s what you were supposed to do right? Put pressure on it to stop bleeding?

“God. You look gorgeous when you panic.”

“This is not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

You could feel the warm blood pooling around your fingers, you put more pressure against his side, trying to get it to stop bleeding. Enough pressure that he rolled onto his side completely laying down on the couch. You moved to get a better angle to put more pressure on it. “What am I supposed to do here Blade? Do I call someone or?”

“It’s not Blade. It’s Dick.”

In any other situation you would have laughed. But considering he was practically bleeding out on your couch, the joke didn’t even cross your mind. You just adapted to the situation and moved on, “Dick? Okay but that’s not what's important right now. What am I supposed to do?”

“My comms are down. I can’t call for backup myself and my phone is busted. But- I have their emergency numbers memorized, can you get your phone and call?”

You were quick, quite literally running back to your bedroom to get your phone, and then move so that you were putting pressure on the wound again, the bleeding wasn’t slowing down. He recited the number, and with your free hand you dialed it before setting the phone to speaker and setting it down, the other hand going back to cover the wound.

It only took a moment for someone to pick up the phone, “What?”

You didn’t know what to say, didn't even know who the hell you were calling. You were panicking, but that was fine. You were putting pressure on the wound and Dick was talking to whoever was on the phone. Giving your address, and you were just trying to keep pressure on the wound.

Fuck what if they didn’t get here in time?

“Lila.”

That got your attention, enough to look at him and realize that you were shaking, “Yeah?”

“Do I get to know your name now?”

You nodded dumbly, taking a second before telling him your name. He repeated it, smiling despite the blood still coming from his side. “Thanks for not running.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Because I'm not done with you yet.”

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #fanfic #xreader #dcu #dcu fanfic #oneshot #writing

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entitled-fangirl · 6 hours ago

Text

Spitfire.

Harry Castillo x reader

Summary: Harry decides he needs someone with more personality. When the band for his next gala quits unexpectedly, Lucy has a connection to a singer for him. A good one. One that's a little spitfire.

Warnings: cursing, sexual tension and remarks, SPOILERS to Materialists

Masterlist

.................................................................

“How’d the date go with Brenda?”

Harry stared at Lucy, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Honestly, Lucy? I think this whole matchmaking thing isn’t working like I thought.”

Lucy frowned. “Why? Every thing about her was perfect for you. What did I miss?”

“She just… had no personality.”

“You didn’t specify that in your non-negotiables.”

“I know. It’s not anything you did. It’s just,” he sighs, rubbing at his forehead, “I have too much going on at work. How about we pause the dates until I get everything settled?”

Lucy nods. “Of course.” She writes something down before pausing. “Even with our past and all, I hope you know you can tell me stuff. Confide in me. As a friend. Or an employee. Whatever is easiest.”

He considers it, then almost denies it. But there’s some pull that is forcing the words out. He leans back in his chair. “Alright.” He takes a long drink. "I love my brother. I do. But with him being a newlywed, I'm picking up the slack at the business. Tonight is this big gala we're hosting. The band quit at the last minute, I don't have a date-"

"-Oh. I can help with that."

"Lucy," he warns. "I don't need a date."

"No, no. I meant the other thing. The one before that. The band." At his confused expression, she tore the corner of a paper and began writing. "A friend of mine sings on the weekends at the lounge down the street."

He leans forward curiously. "Which one?"

"Mountainside lounge."

"Oh. She any good?"

"Well, Harry. I wouldn't suggest her if she made my ears bleed, now would I? I will warn you. She's got… a lot of personality.

He takes the torn paper like it's gold. "Thank you. I fear I owe you one."

"Maybe just one more date? I got this really beautiful woman-"

"-Alright. Bye, Lucy." He stands, exiting the restaurant with more pep in his step.

The paper between his fingers weighs on him. An email address. Interesting.

…

You reread the email with a puzzled brow. Lucy really suggested you to this guy? To the Castillos?

It's professional, but you can sense the desperation in his secretary's tone. Usually, you'd decline. But something about it has you replying back.

Within minutes, they gets back to you.

And you're set to sing on Saturday. You frantically call your accompanist. When they say they can't make it, you managed to get your roommate to do it. She's far too good at the piano anyway to not use that skill anywhere.

…

You set up without seeing a single Castillo. Only the wait staff and the planning committee. They help you as much as you need. It was kind, but you were hoping to at least see the guy that hired you before the party.

You had put way too much thought into your outfit, just like you always do. Singing at the lounge on the weekends paid for a few fancy dresses. Ones way out of your price range. You use that to your advantage a lot.

Like tonight.

You present yourself like you're one of the most esteemed singers in NYC. In reality, you and your roommate barely make ends meet.

But for tonight, you can live it up a little.

It was like every other joint you've sang at. Men ogle you a bit too much. The women give forced claps after a few songs. You're used to the steady routine.

Half way through the night, you take a small break. You giggle to the side with your roommate turned accompanist until a voice breaks the conversation. "Excuse me, I was hoping to get your ladies a drink."

You pause, lip tight at you stare at your roommate. Another one of those pervy guys hoping to take you home.

But when you turn to look at him, you don't get that vibe at all.

His eyes are far too kind.

"Oh. I can't drink," you nod, "bad for the voice."

"Oh, I'd definitely take a drink," your roommate interrupts.

The man grins and nods. "I can do that." His eyes set back on you. "Water then for you?"

"Yeah. Warm."

His eyes stay on you a little too long before he turns back to the crowd, disappearing to get those said drinks.

"He's fine as hell," your roommate teases. "If you don't fuck him, I will."

"Oh my god," you whisper-yell. "Keep it in your pants. We're working."

"You're working. I'm pitching in a favor from last Monday."

Last Monday. A sleazy bar fight started by someone getting a little too close to your roommate and you were the only one that did something about it. You're still sporting a wide bruise on your leg from getting knocked down.

"You don't owe me anything for that. C'mon."

"Well, no one else did anything until you fucking absorbed the first hit-"

"Okay. Stop. We'll talk about this later. Just… be professional for a few more hours?"

She sighs. "Fine."

In perfect timing, a tall glass on warm water is sat on the piano in front of you. You can feel him behind you, tie barely brushing your back before he's away from you once again.

"- and I got you a bit of champagne. Hope that wasn't a bad choice."

Your roommate takes it with greedy hands. "It's perfect. Thank you, Mr…"

"Harry. Harry Castillo."

You freeze, shoulders tightening. "Oh," you push out. "You're Lucy's… friend."

He seems to stiffen up too. "Yeah. Something like that."

"I only meant… you're the one that hired me?"

He relaxes at that, turning on the facade again. "Exactly so. She had good things to say about you."

"I think you were just desperate for a singer."

He laughs. "Maybe so. But you weren't a bad choice in any sense."

You lean against the piano. "I've been told I'm often a bad choice."

His brows raise. "Well, certainly not about your voice." He takes a moment to look at his shoes, recalling a thought. "Lucy did tell me you were a spitfire, though."

"She said that?"

He laughs and nods, content to get a little reaction out of you. "You disagree?"

You consider his words, fighting back and forth with yourself. Professionally, you were calm, cool and collected. Outside of work? A bull in a china closet. "'M not sure."

He keeps a subtle grin on his lips, puppy dog eyes trained on you. "You seem pretty tame."

You can feel the arousal work it's way down your spine to between your legs.

And with that, he taps the piano lightly like a send-off. "I'll enjoy hearing you the rest of the night, little songbird." And he steps away, businessman facade turned on high as he grins and shakes a man's hand like he hadn't turned your world on its side.

Your head slowly turns to your roommate, whose eyes are trained on the sheet music in front of her. 'Holy fuck,' she mouths, not having the courage to look at you after that.

You exhale, unsure of what to think. He's far too charming, alarmingly so. And yet here without a date. It's odd.

You take a little longer than you should've to collect yourself before beginning the second half of the night.

You know Harry's eyes are on you.

…

As the event comes to a close, you decide to pack up early. You have a busy day tomorrow and your voice needs to rest.

You help your roommate pack the sheet music carefully, preparing yourself to say forced goodbyes and shake a few hands.

You can feel Harry's presence before he even says a word.

"The songbird has a bedtime," you start first, not bothering to look up at him.

God, you know he's grinning. "Good. A songbird needs beauty rest. I can't see how looking so… radiant wouldn't require hours of sleep."

You hum, finishing up. But he catches your arm and places a piece of paper in your hand.

You pause, finally turning your head to see him watching you like you're an addiction he has a craving for.

And your eyes dart to the paper, seeing it as a folded check. "Mr. Castillo, you already paid-"

"I know. Think of it as a tip. Tonight was wonderful and you made it so."

Your head tilts, eyes flashing with something. "You trying to tame me, Mr. Castillo?"

"No," he whispers, inching a bit closer, "No, I wouldn't dare." He takes a moment, decided where his bravery lies. Then, he closes the distance, kissing your cheekbone and then kissing your hand. "Goodnight."

…

The poor taxi driver. Your roommate could not contain her excitement. "He was like ALL over you! GOD the gorgeous babies that man would make with you! Please tell me you got his number!"

"No," you scoff. "I was working. This was all work related."

"Nothing about that man's eyes screamed work related."

…

The next day, there's a bit of a headache you're nursing. You're not sure why. Maybe a lack of sleep. Maybe the stress of the day before. But you stumble into the kitchen and start making the same shitty breakfast you always have.

"Oh yeah, I said I'd split that job with you from last night," you remind your roommate.

She laid across the couch, seemingly in the same mental position as you. Hand over her forehead. "Don't worry about it. Just buy me a couple drinks next time we're out."

You hum. "Well, I even got a tip. How about I at least split that with you?"

She sits up a bit. "How much?"

You shrug. "Haven't looked."

She's already darting for your coat pocket where you left it last night. She scrambles, pulling it out and unfolding it. You see her eyes open wide. "Holy shit."

"What?"

Her eyes just stay on the page. "Like Holy shit."

"Oh my god, just-" you round the counter, peering over her shoulder at it. Then it's your turn to gawk. "Fuck."

You're dialing the number at the top left of the check quickly, spatula in one hand as you nurse your scrambled eggs, phone in the other.

"You've reached Castillo Enterprises. How may I help you today?"

"Uh, yeah. Hi. I need to talk to Harry Castillo."

"Oh. Well, is this a matter of canceling an appointment or meeting?"

"No. I need to speak to him about a matter-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Castillo is a busy man. Shall I take a message?"

"No. No. I'll just… forget it. Thank you."

You drop your phone on the counter, eyes trained on the pan on the stove.

The odds of a busy man like him calling you back is far too slim. There was no point in leaving a message.

No. You learned years ago that most things can just be taken care of in person.

So you finish your breakfast, rushing to look decently professional before getting in your car.

…

Castillo Enterprises is a huge fucking building. One you can't see the top of when you're standing in front of it.

It's all glass, and you see your reflection staring back. You're far from what you looked like last night, but you'd at least managed to slap a little makeup on before you left.

Clutching your purse, you take a deep breath and step inside.

You go to the first desk you see, the one placed in the middle of the room for lost souls like yourself. "Hi, I'm here to see Harry Castillo?"

The secretary is a young girl, one who clearly hates confrontation. "34th story. Elevators are that way."

So off you are again, check weighing heavily in your purse.

You stumble your way around to another desk. A secretary you recognize the voice of. You know you're getting closer since she's the one you spoke on the phone to. "Hi-"

"-You're the woman on the phone," she acknowledges. "As I said before, Mr. Castillo is very busy. He can't see you today."

"I know that but I just need to return a check that was written to me."

Her eyes suddenly widen with realization. "You're the singer from the gala. Sorry, but we can't accept that check back."

"Why not? There's nothing wrong with it."

"Mr. Castillo told me not to accept a returning check from you if you were to come in today."

You gawk for a moment before you get angry. "You know what? Where the fuck is he?"

"As I said before-"

"No. Where is he right now?"

There's a silent standoff that's broken as quickly as it starts. "Cathy, get the Westons a meeting with me t-" Harry pauses, eyes set on you. "Hi," he breathes.

You scoff. "Ten thousand dollars? Are you fucking serious?"

His face falls, confusing written clearly over it. "What do you m-"

"Don't!" You growl. You dig the check out of her purse, holding it out between two fingers. "Take it back."

He recoils from it like it's poisonous, hands up. "I already gave it to you."

"Really? The fuck are you trying to do, be my sugar daddy? You don't even know my fucking name."

There's a moment where he looks around, a bit embarrassed to be making such a scene at his work. But another part of him doesn't care. His main focus is the woman in front of him. His voice is careful and calculated. "I was only trying to appreciate a songbird. Forgive me if I was too forward. But please, accept it this once."

"For what?"

"Hm?"

Your eyes take in his dark blue suit, tailored just perfectly for him. "What… what do you want me to do? What are you paying me for?"

He frowns. "What? No. It's just… spending money. For you. I… I was doing something nice."

"No one is that nice."

He pauses. "God, you really are friends with Lucy, aren't you?"

"The fuck does that mean, Castillo?"

"Means you're untrusting! Just take the check."

"No," you push, holding it out again. "I don't want it."

When he recoils again, you take it back, holding it with both hands now. "I'll fucking tear it up all over this office floor."

He shrugs. "Fine. I'll mail you another by the end of the day."

"Fuck you."

He laughs. Actually laughs at that. "Consider me charity and I'm asking a favor of you."

You pause.

"Just listen to my proposal. Accept the money-"

You scoff.

His head tilts. "- or go on a date with me."

The paper in your hands suddenly feel much heavier than it was before.

At your pause, he shrugs. "Or do both."

"No," you scoff. "No. That is ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous about that?"

"I'm making a scene in the middle of the richest enterprise in New York in front of the richest man in New York, and you're asking me on a date?"

He nods.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You ask genuinely.

He shrugs. "I'm all business. I need a little more liveliness in my life."

"And you think I'd do that for you?"

"You already have."

You consider all of it. Your voice calms, "You can't tame me, you know."

He nods, "I would never try to."

And with that, you begin to tear the check into little pieces. The rug catches them, the dark gray contrasting with the little white papers. And he watches. Not the peices fall. But you.

You pull the strap of your purse higher on your shoulder and storm your way past him, content with your victory.

But you pause, huffing as you turn and kiss him on the cheek. "Pick me up at 8."

He listens to your shoes against the expensive tile until you're gone.

"Yes ma'am," he whispers to himself.

................................................................

#harry materialists #materialists #harry castillo x you #harry castillo #harry castillo materialists #harry castillo fanfiction #harry castillo fic #harry castillo x reader #the materialists #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom

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weeping-treee · 3 days ago

Text

A Desperate Man- Part 12

Simon fucking loves you. Almost too much.

All parts here

2,100 words

This man loves you.

I mean LOVES you.

You realize quickly that Simon shows it in actions more than words—because when he tries to talk about it, it damn near short-circuits him.

So there you sit, quietly in the tub together.

His fingers massaging shampoo into your hair? Fucking heaven.

Then knowing to leave your conditioner in for a few minutes before rinsing it? Jesus, if you could get this man pregnant, you would.

Then he insists on drying your hair off and you off, and you just look up at him with that sleepy love the whole time.

You're capable. He knows that. You definitely know that... but why deny being pampered by a man like him?

He smiles softly down at you before kissing your head and allowing you to get dressed for work, still grumpy himself about being on leave while he heals up.

As if he didn't pound you into the bed an hour ago...

You get dressed, coffee already wafting from the kitchen—sharp and rich in your sinuses.

You follow the smell and lean against the doorframe, taking in the sight of that big burly man clad in only sweats in your kitchen, making you coffee... even if he hates the stuff.

He drinks plain Earl Grey tea—like the goddamn psychopath he is. But you love him nonetheless.

But he looks damn good in your kitchen. Walking around like he's been there before—he hasn't—but has a confidence about him like he owns the place. Granted, he has that same confidence everywhere, but in your space? It means so much more, like you’ve made a space safe enough for him to feel that way.

But every now and then—when he catches your eye and you’re just watching him—that confidence flickers. He fidgets. Glances away. Like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to have this. You.

“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” he murmurs as you sip your coffee, “I’m gonna start thinking I’m handsome or something.”

“You are.”

He smirks, ears tinting pink. “Well… suppose I’ll let you say it, just this once.”

A beat.

“...Maybe twice. If you really mean it.”

"Atta boy, you're learning." You tease.

"Keep it up and you won't be getting to base on time." He turns and leans against the counter, arms crossed against his chest.

You chuckle softly, heading over to pour yourself a cup of coffee, standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder. "You gonna be alright here alone?"

He hums softly and nods before speaking. "I'll be alright, love. Go save some lives."

You huff softly, "Are you sure? I'm sure Price wouldn't mind if I called off to stay—"

"Don't. I don't need a babysitter. I'd love to have you here with me, but you’re the best surgeon they’ve got—they need you more than I do." He adds lightly.

"Alright—okay. I'll go." You say sipping your coffee.

“Y’know,” he says, glancing around your kitchen, “your house’s too quiet without you. Might have to leave somethin’ behind just to make sure I come back once I'm healed.”

“Like what?”

“Dunno. Toothbrush. Shirt. Me.”

You roll your eyes. "Cocky."

He grins smugly. "You make it easy."

Then he pauses like he might say more, but instead just shrugs.

“Figured if I left somethin’ behind, I’d have an excuse to come back. Not that I need one if you're here.”

You shake your head with a smile and check your phone. 6:30. You groan softly. "I've gotta get going, Simon. I'll be home around 5, okay?"

“You left your badge on the table by the door,” he calls as you pat yourself down, making sure you have everything.

You stop mid-pat, blinking. “...Have you been spying on me?”

“Just memorizin’,” he says, not even looking up. “Guess that’s what a bloke does when he’s properly ruined for someone.”

You can't deny the way your heart flutters. He's been in your space for 12 hours, and he's already locked into you. Your routine, small details... everything.

He walks you to the door, hand on your lower back. “Text me when you get there,” he says, like a worried boyfriend.

You still haven’t gotten used to how natural this feels—him in your space. Walking you to the door like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

Then he clears his throat. “I mean. If you want. Not like I’m gonna pace around waitin’ or anything.”

You arch a brow.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

"You're adorable," you say reaching up to kiss his cheek, he leans down a bit to meet you halfway, pulling you in a bit more to kiss you.

"Be safe." He says softly, making you melt.

"I will be, Si." you say with a small smile. The nickname slipping so naturally. He releases you—reluctantly—and you grab your car keys.

It leaves him breathless, staring at you as if you hung the moon and stars. The softness in your voice as you called him Si... something his mother called him when he was a child... both heals and breaks his heart simultaneously.

You force the front door open and step out onto the porch, he follows silently, only managing to speak when you're down the steps.

“I love you.”

He says it like he’s finally handing over something he’s been carrying for years—like it’s heavier than it looks.

You turn and walk backward a few steps, a slow, knowing smile tugging at your lips.

“I know,” you tease gently. “I love you too.”

You get to your car and slide in, giving him a small smile and wave before you're driving down the dirt road. Leaving him alone—and suddenly empty—without your bubbly presence.

He watches until your car disappears down the road, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs under his breath, stepping back inside.

Your coffee mug still sits on the counter.

He picks it up like it's fragile. Holds it for a second. Then sets it back down with a little shake of his head.

He's completely and utterly done for.

...

Simon's day is much different than yours.

It's not that he's snooping... he's just, looking around.

Studying the few pictures you have lying around with you and another man.

He doesn't assume anything right away. Trying to ignore the possessive, jealous curl of something crawling up his spine—but it’s there.

He looks through your bookshelf, kitchen, bedroom.

'Just wanting to learn more about you.' He tells himself... but in truth? He's a nosey little shit.

Though he knows he can't snoop all day long, even if it's already been 5 hours. He relatively knows the food you eat, considering the way you couldn't quit talking when he was bedridden.

He finds a recipe card in the kitchen for something he remembered you talking about. Chicken Bacon Ranch Pasta. He reads it with a small hum, then looks through your pantry, finding the ingredients and making do.

The only thing is... he can't cook to save his life.

I mean, when you live off the base food and MREs, you don't need to learn. Boiling water’s already pushing it for him.

So if you come home to a burned-down kitchen—at least he tried.

...

Your day? Chaotic.

You’d left that house glowing, still buzzing from the warmth of him.

Now it’s like you’ve been slammed back into orbit.

The hallway’s loud, the air reeks of antiseptic, and your phone’s already buzzing with emergencies.

It’s like love was a dream—and this, this is the wake-up call.

You take a breath, steady yourself. Game face on.

Time to save lives, even if your heart’s still back in that kitchen.

Then, of course, hell breaks loose.

The new intern didn't stock the crash cart the way you specifically labeled it. If you weren't paying attention, you could've given a patient Diphenhydramine instead of Epinephrine.. which without realizing, would be fatal when you needed Epi.

Strike One.

You let it go, first day error. Cut the kid some slack, right?

Then strike two. They skipped their ABCs and a soldier fresh off the field needed to be intubated for the ash coating their airway.

They don't even get strike three before you pull them into the hallway and chew them a new asshole.

Soap and Gaz happened to be passing by down the hall, each getting a glimpse of what Simon gets to deal with if he ever fucks up... heaven forbid. Soap already sending a text to him, giving him a cryptic warning to 'not piss yer missus off'.

You make the intern shadow a nurse. Not allowed to touch anything, just watch and learn.

By the time 5 rolls around, you're beyond annoyed, ready to get home and use Simon as a pillow for the rest of the night.

...

You pull into your driveway with a small sigh.

Stretching once out of the car and heading for the door, only to be met with a burning smell when you walk in—and no sign of Simon.

You drop your bag and coat, rushing to the kitchen to be met with a stressed Simon, cussing under his breath as he burns chicken in a pan. It smells like regret and singed determination.

He jumps when you walk in, nearly drops the pan.

“Shit—bloody hell—this wasn’t supposed to be on fire,” he mutters, waving a dish towel like it’ll help.

The smoke alarm chirps weakly in the background. He glares at it like it insulted his mother.

“I followed the bloody instructions,” he grumbles, holding the spatula like it personally betrayed him.

Then he sighs, shoulders sinking as he peers into the pan like he can will the chicken back to life.

“Was tryin’ to be romantic, not start a bloody house fire.”

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. He turns around and looks like a disheartened child, which tugs at your heartstrings.

"Here, let me help." You step in, turn the heat on the pan down, and pour in some oil.

You can hear his sigh of relief and feel the tension roll off him in waves.

"I was trying to make you dinner," he murmurs, "but I can't cook for shit."

You chuckle and look over at him. "I can see that." You wrap an arm around his side and rub his back. "I'll teach you, don't worry."

You don't make fun of him. You don't make him feel bad. You don't patronize him or treat him like an idiot. You just talk him through it, you answer his questions and show him how to do something if you see his brows furrow. It’s endearing, the way he looks at a pot like it might explode if he blinks wrong.

In the end? It tastes great, and he did most of the work with your instruction. It's something you did. Together.

“Jesus—where’d you get this recipe?” He says, mouth still half full.

“Saw something like it on a cooking show and made it up.” You shrug, as if that’s an easy thing to do.

“Made it up? Just like that?” he says, stunned.

“Yeah.. just like that. It’s not that hard if you know what you’re doing.”

“Christ-“ he says shaking his head, not believing it.

“It’s like your guns. You put one in front of me, I won’t be able to disassemble it or put it back together like you can. It’s second nature for you… just like cooking and baking is for me.”

“Doesn’t make you any less brilliant, love.”

“Shut up. You’re just sayin that because it’s not greasy bar food or the bases lunch.”

“Maybe.” He teases with a smile on his face.

You roll your eyes. “You are insufferable.”

“You love me,” he states, smugly

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

Once finished, he grabs both the empty plates and carries them to the kitchen without asking.

You follow, standing beside him like it’s second nature now.

“We make a good team,” you murmur, nudging his elbow with yours.

“Always have, always will,” he replies, without missing a beat.

He sets the plates down and reaches for your hand.

Just holds it. Like he’s not ready to let go—even after the meal’s done.

...

Later that night, full and content, he pulls you close on the couch and murmurs into your hair...

“Next time, I’ll just order takeaway and lie about it.”

You laugh against his chest. “Smart man.”

He hums. “Still can’t believe you ate it.”

You chuckle, kissing him on the cheek. “Still can’t believe you made it.”

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