#part 1 of a 5+1 fic that will never see the light ..

[maxybabyy]

Daniel wins in Malaysia, crossing the line just before Max to take his first of the season.

The rush feels sweet, delicate. The car has been better this year, already pulled home a win for Max in his first race with the team. But it’s still not reliable, doesn’t chew out wins like the Mercedes does. So he knows he has to cherish this, doesn’t know when it will happen again.

He sits on the podium and pours the champagne into his shoe, drinks it to the sounds of the crowd and prays the moment will last forever.

Max drinks the shoey when Daniel hands it to him. “Daniel, no. Come one,” he says, shaking his head. He looks out into the crowd like someone’s going to stop them – his dad, maybe. But Daniel doesn’t care.

He doesn’t. The shoe isn’t too full when he hands it over, watching as Max lets the liquid spill over his chin, onto his suit. Max cheers, hands the shoe back with a laugh, and Nico looks at them like they’re both insane. Maybe they are, Nico too with the season he’s having.

It feels different like this, soaked in champagne with Max by his side.

Wins with Seb had never felt like this. Even towards the end, three wins under his belt, Daniel knew Seb still thought he was better than him. Doesn’t think the shoey would have gone over as well as it did with Max, but then, Max was a bit of an odd kid.

Most of the team comes out to the club to celebrate, dressed up and ready to party.

Max sticks to his side for the entire night, keeps an arm wrapped around his shoulders so they don’t get separated in the tight crowd. “It was not so bad, I think. The drink,” Max tells him, yells over the loud music.

“Better be for what I paid for it,” Daniel responds, speaks directly into his ear. He can smell the sweat on his skin, the champagne he mustn’t have washed off well enough, soaked through whatever overpriced cologne Max uses now. “Are you even old enough to buy your own drink?”

It must be the fourth time he asks, but Max still laughs.

His mouth looks impossibly wide as he throws his head back. His lips look soft like this, sticky and pink with drink. He finds himself thinking whether his lips would taste like sweat too, or if the gin has left a trace on Max’s mouth, if the tonic would taste bitter on his tongue if they kissed.

“Always I am nineteen, you know this, Daniel.” Max says, knocks their knees together where they sit pressed together in the booth.

Daniel does, maybe. He remembers the party they had not long ago, Max sloppy with drink as he welcomed him in, warm hands heavy on his waist, on his hips.

“I was of course talking about the shoey also,” Max continues, points to Daniel’s feet like he would still be wearing the boots. “It was very good, no? For sweat, I think. Salty.”

Daniel laughs. His hand wraps around the curve of Max’s thigh, gives it a shake. Max’s entire body moves with it, sways with the motion, so Daniel digs his fingers further into the muscle, jerks him around until Max joins him.

The taste of the shoey has always been second to the bit; a bitter bite at the hand of victory. But it’s worth it, he reckons, to watch someone surrender to his charms.

It fits then, that Max would like the taste too. Daniel doesn’t mind it, can drink from almost anything if the crowd around him is big enough – the lone ashy still fresh in his mind. But it’s like, kisses after blowjobs. Fine separate but like, kinda gross when you end up with come in your mouth.

“I’ll take the compliment, Maxy,” he says instead, swallows what’s left of his beer. “It’s getting late, yeah?”

Max shrugs. His lips look huge around the tiny straw of his drink, cheeks hollowed as he sucks on it, making the ice cubes clink loudly. He’s been leaning into Daniel’s side for a while now, eyes heavy as he talks about the race, of the podium they shared. There’s still a handful of Red Bull guys left that could get him home safe, or Daniel could like, stuff him in a cab with his pocket full of cash, make him promise to sound off when he got back to the hotel. But, like.

There’s a group of ladies who has been looking at the two of them – Daniel more than Max, but not by much – dark eyes and pretty dresses, fans most likely. And Max came in second today, he deserves to celebrate too, doesn’t he?

Daniel squeezes his thigh again, tries to shake some life back into him. “Maybe we should head back to the hotel, continue the party there?” He says, smiles wide at the blonde who hasn’t stopped staring at him.

Max puts down his drink with a heavy hand, pushes his thigh against Daniel’s, shoves it further into his grasp. Daniel feels the muscle flex underneath his hand, the warmth seeping through his jeans. He’s getting bigger now, filling out in places Daniel thought would stay slim, no longer the scrawny kid robbed from the cradle.

“Yes, this is of course what I want also, Daniel,” Max says, blunt and firm, like it’s a fucking strategy meeting, and he’s already decided what tyres he wants to start on.

“Let’s find some ladies, then.”

Daniel is just about to nod them over when Max hooks his knee over his thigh, makes his hand slide further into the crease of Max’s groin. “It maybe could be just us also?” He offers. His face looks complicated when Daniel turns to watch, fat, pink lip sucked in between his teeth. His breathing comes out in pants, heavy and warm, and he’s close enough now that Daniel feels it on his skin. It makes him shiver.

“What, Maxy?” He says, teases. “Are you gonna make me feel good, baby?”

Max huffs, stares him down.

The thing is. Max probably would if Daniel asked. Get on his knees, mouth open wide to let him fuck into it. Daniel doesn’t know if it would be good, still doesn’t know what Max gets up to when he isn’t around. But he would try at least. Look at Daniel with those blue eyes, dick deep in his mouth and ask, This is what you want, Daniel? This is good for you also?

But it doesn’t. It wouldn’t work like that.

Daniel is half-hard now, from the atmosphere of the club, the release of the win. And Max may be handsome – pretty even, in his oddly shaped body – but he’s still a dude. And Daniel doesn’t. He isn’t like that.

“Yeah, nah, think I’m gonna give it a pass, mate.” Daniel says. He nudges Max back into his own seat, limbs folded into his body, and stands up. “Will you be alright, or do you want me to find someone to take you home?”

Max lets out a sharp breath and then seems to kick himself into motion. He shoves away from the booth, stumbles onto too long legs, and makes his way past Daniel, “I will of course be fine. Goodbye, Daniel."

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity

Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.

if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.

(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: 3.4k

"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.

The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.

"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.

Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.

He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.

"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.

Had she done this all by herself?

He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.

"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.

"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.

Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.

He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.

"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.

"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.

"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.

Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.

"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.

The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.

"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.

"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.

"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.

War.

Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.

"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...

Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.

"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.

"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.

"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."

"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.

"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."

"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.

He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.

She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.

"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.

"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.

"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.

"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.

"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.

"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.

"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.

"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.

"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.

"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.

"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.

"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."

She was a child.

That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.

"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.

"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?

"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.

Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.

When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.

"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.

"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.

Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.

"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.

"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.

"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.

"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.

"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.

"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.

"Envy, huh."

"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.

"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.

"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.

She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.

"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.

"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.

Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.

And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.

See you guys next time!!

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 2

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: omg guys the love part 1 received has been so amazing. I seriously am so happy you're all loving this fic as much as me. As someone who hasn't written in so long it's been so fufilling to write this. Thank you for all the kind words. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SA, starting to get a little steamy

Word count: 2704

(all photos are from pinterest)

The next morning I woke with a certain lightness to my step that I knew shouldn’t be there. My hands skimmed over the countless dresses looking for just the right one. All of the sudden I had started caring more about my appearance for council meetings. Deep down I know why. 

I meet my brother and Lucien in the foyer per usual, and I feel Lucien’s fiery gaze rake over the lavender chiffon draped over my body. I told myself that I had selected the revealing dress because of how hot the Day court was, but I think I had other motives backing my choice. 

The Day Court, like all other courts, was utterly beautiful. Large pillars stood all around and like the summer court it was entirely open air, allowing the sunlight and breeze to float into the room. I sit between Lucien and Tamlin at a large table with the other High Lord’s and nobility. My eyes scan the room for a hint of that violet that I dreamt about last night but I don’t find it. It isn’t until a few minutes later, when my skin starts buzzing, that the High Lord of Night steps into the room. His presence commending, his eyes immediately finding mine. 

I feel him pluck at the bond as if to say hello. After speaking to him through my mind for so long it was almost strange to see him in real life. Somehow he was always much more handsome in person. Like no matter how many times I tried to put together the image of his face at night it never compares to the sheer glory and presence of him. 

As Helion began speaking a voice crawled into my head. 

I’m glad you find me so glorious, darling.

“Shh you nosey High Lord. I’m trying to listen,” I silence him and to my  surprise he obliges.  

Helion talks on and on and of course there is arguing between Kallias and Beron as there usually is but I couldn’t begin to tell you what about. I spend the entire meeting noticing every move the High Lord of Night made. When he breathed, or flexed his hands, adjusted his spot on his seat. Whenever I felt his eyes sliding over to me I would do my best to evade them. 

See something you like? I look over to him and find his eyes smirking. 

“Yeah actually, Eris is looking especially delicious today,” I tease, I don’t break eye contact with him. 

He chuckles brushing off my comment. You’re a vision in purple mate, but if Lucien looks at your cleavage one more time I might just leap across the table and rip his only good eye out. 

“So violent,” I muse disapprovingly, looking towards where Kallias is speaking about potential war with Hybern.

I save my most brutal acts of violence for those who seek to harm you darling. My eyes flit back at him and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he averts his gaze back to Kallias. 

“Enough talk of war my friends, let us adjourn this meeting until next week.” Helion finally says, causing the rest of the council to let out a breath. 

Tamlin doesn’t say a word before he and Lucien stand and make a beeline to Tarquin, most likely to talk about problems we’ve been having on the border. I take it as my queue to walk around the Day Court’s terrace and I secretly hope that a certain High Lord follows me. 

The Day Court and the Summer Court are like twin sisters. Except the Day Court always felt like liquid gold. All around me I could see clouds and honeyed sunlight peeking through the them. The rays warmed my skin as I basked in them, leaning against one of the many large pillars. 

“I knew you’d look amazing in this light,” drawled that voice I had secretly wanted to hear. 

I glance over to find The High Lord admiring me, the light of the Day Court doing wonders for him as well. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say, trying to act like I mean it. 

“Yet you wanted me to follow you,” he smirks knowingly, slowly stepping towards me. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“This,” he says, pulling on the bond again. I take a sharp breath in and he chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of that reaction.”

“I really hate it when you do that,” I grumble. 

“No you don’t,” he muses using one arm to cage me into the pillar I’m leaning against. 

“Yes I do,” I affirm. His other hand lifts my chin to meet his stare. 

“No you don’t, you don’t hate anything about me. In fact you think I’m beautiful,” he smirks, somehow stepping even closer to me. “And, you want me to touch you right now, your skin is practically on fire for it.” 

“My Lord-” 

“I told you to call me Rhysand,” he cuts me off. I want to lie and tell him no, I want to push him away but I fear that even the action of me touching his chest, even for a moment, would be too much for me to bear. 

“Rhys,” I breathe out. Before I can even think his lips are on mine swallowing the breath that held his name, just like he promised.  

The kiss is hot and needy, built up from the last two weeks of torture. One of his hands finds my face while the other finds my waist. His frame presses me into the pillar behind me. I feel my body ignite in a way I didn’t know possible, I need him closer. I pull on the lapels of his jacket earning a low grumble from him. 

“Say it again,” he says between kisses. 

“Rhysand,” I moan, his name like a prayer on my lips. 

“Fuck,” he groans before sliding a hand down under my knee and hoisting it up to wrap around his waist. The slit in my dress parted for him, giving him full access to my bare leg. I feel his lips drag across my neck leaving opened mouth kisses on me. I practically come undone for him, the only thing keeping me upright are his hands and the pillar behind me. 

In the distance I can hear footsteps clicking across the floor, in a panic I winnow both of us further away. He breaks apart the kiss and gives me a bewildered look. 

“Sorry, someone was coming,” I say breathlessly. 

“Let them see,” he grins before stepping closer to me. I take a step back and he halts his movements, surprised. 

“We can’t, my brother will kill me, kill you.” I remind him. 

He lets out a chuckle like he’s completely unphased, “I promise you that I hold more power in my pinky than Tamilin does in his entire body.”  he boasts. 

“Still,” I start. “You’re the High Lord of the Night Court, his sworn enemy, my court's sworn enemy. Think of what they would say about me if the truth came out. What they would say about you. You’d be the monster who stole away the princess of spring.” I ramble. 

“I’ve been called a monster by those who know nothing but stories of me my whole life, what’s one more?” he states. 

“I’ve heard stories of your court, that it’s the part of Prythian where the most feared monsters and beings of our kind reside,” I say fearfully. I start to remember who he is. Not just a pretty face, but the High Lord of the Night Court. He’s dangerous, and he is a monster. 

“Part of that is true,” he affirms, and I can see a tinge of hurt in his eyes. 

“And the other part?” I ask on bated breath. 

“You’ll see soon enough mate,” he says. 

“My Lord we cannot be together,” I state firmly. 

“Back to formalities now are we?” he sighs. “I’ve waited 500 years to find my mate y/n, don’t think for one second that I’m going to stay away from you just because you’re afraid of that pathetic excuse for a brother.” 

“He’s not pathetic, he loves me!” I growl. 

“You don’t know half the things you think you do about your brother,” he sneered. 

As much as I hated to admit it he was right. Tamlin and I had never truly been close. We hardly ever did anything together. I always sensed a darkness in him that I couldn’t place. There was so much he simply refused to tell me just because I was a woman. But I couldn't bear that truth to Rhys, not when I needed his silence. 

“This conversation is over,” I huff before walking away, I feel him grasp my arm. 

“No darling it’s not,” Rhys says with frustration in his eyes. 

“Wanna bet?” I ask smugly before winnowing back to the Spring Court. 

The next few days I don’t hear from Rhysand, and I don’t feel a tug on the bond. All of the sudden my life is filled with a sense of melancholy, I never had before. I had grown so used to his constant tugging on the bond or his remarks throughout my daily life that I felt a little empty without him.  

So empty that I now found myself nudging around the food on my plate at dinner. Lucien had been out with the emissary of the Summer Court fixing the problems on the border, which meant it was just me and Tamlin. 

We spend the whole meal in silence until he finally breaks it, “I have something I want to discuss with you,” he says, placing his napkin down on the table. 

“What is it?” I ask, starting to wonder if maybe he saw me and Rhysand the other day. 

“I’ve been talking with Beron Vanserra, and it seems that his eldest son Eris has taken a liking to you. We think it might be in the best interest of our two courts if you two were to marry.” he says casually, as if the words weren’t a huge punch to the gut. 

“What?” I breathe in disbelief. 

“Come on y/n this has always been our plan, to get you an advantageous marriage.” he reminds me, irritation laced in his voice. 

“Not my plan Tamlin, yours.” I seethe. “Eris is a viper, I won’t marry him.” 

“You’ll do as you're told and that’s final!” he screams slamming his fists down on the table making the silverware rattle. 

I leave my plate full of food on the table and get up. If I wasn’t hungry before I certainly am not now. I leave the dining room and make sure to slam the door on my way out. The halls of the palace were dark save for the moonlight drifting through the windows. My mind was a mess of Tamlin’s words, I was so angry I could hardly think beyond it. At the end of the hall there was a door and even from where I was I could see the doorknob turning. A head of red hair popped through the door and Lucien stumbled to close it.

 I kept my head down trying to avoid him but it was no use. The second he passed me his hands were on me shoving me into the nearest wall. 

“Hello my flower,” he slurred. 

“You’re drunk Lucien,” I pointed out, jerking my head away. 

“Yes I suppose I am, the emissary for the summer court knows how to celebrate. We went to a tavern after completing the job on the border to indulge in some women and maybe a few drinks,” he chuckled. 

“Yeah a few hundred drinks you fucking idiot,” I gripe trying to get out of his grasp but his hands only pin my wrists tighter.

“It was fun, but being around all those women made me long for my little flower,” he smiled drunkenly before kissing my neck. 

For months now he’s been doing this, stealing touches whenever he could, and kissing my neck like this when he was feeling really bold, or in this case, drunk. He never took it further than that though. Never kissing, never fully fucking me, and I think it’s because he knew that it would be where Tamilin drew the line. But tonight he was drunk, in a way I had never seen him before, and I wasn’t sure if the line that had held for so many months would be held now. 

“Get the fuck off me Lucien,” I growl trying to push him off again. 

He completely ignores me, “You know my dear I’ve let my hands wander every expanse of this magnificent body, but I have yet to taste you,” he says lowly. “I think I’m going to change that.” 

I don’t even get a chance to try and fight before his lips are on mine. He tastes like shitty whiskey and he smells like cheap perfume. It’s vile and it has me sick to my stomach. I find my opening to rip my lips off him and take it. 

“Lucien what the fuck!” I scream in his face. His eyes just go down to my heaving chest, where my breasts are pushed up high due to my corset. 

“And these,” he drawls before placing open mouth kisses on the peaks of my breasts. His hand lets go of my wrist and flies to my waist to pull me closer to him and I take the change of position as an opportunity to knee him between his legs. 

His knees hit the ground and I run down the hall towards my room. I slam and lock the door as fast as possible, barricading myself in with a chair. I pace back and forth trying to dispel the pent up adrenaline that’s inside of me but in the end I sink to my knees and start to cry. 

What happened?

That calming voice cleaves its way through my mind and it feels like a huge weight off my chest has been lifted. 

“It was Lucien he tried to…” I let my voice trail off not even wanting to finish the sentence. I know the High Lord of Night is at the complete other end of Prythian but I swear I feel the ground beneath me tremble. 

Did he? He asks, like he would winnow here right now and make due on his promise of ripping out his good eye. 

“No, I fought him off,” I assure him.

Are you safe? 

“As safe as I can be, I barricaded the door,”  I say, as my heart rate calms down. 

You shouldn’t have to live in a place where you have to barricade yourself in your room.

“Well I do so I’m handling it the best I can,” I gripe at him. I would gladly change the situation if I could but I can’t. There's a silence and I can feel him ruminating over my words as I crawl into bed. 

I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said it like that. 

“It’s okay I understood what you meant,” I say pulling the covers up to my chin like they might protect me. 

And I’m sorry for what I said about Tamlin. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you, he’s your brother, of course you’re going to defend him.

“It’s okay, maybe everything you said about Tamlin wasn’t entirely false,” I confess remembering the conversation that had me fleeing the dining room in the first place. 

What happened? 

A moment passes and I think about telling him. But saying it almost makes it real and I choose not to, “I’d rather not talk about it now. Too much has happened tonight,” I say

Alright we won’t then. I sense disappointment in his voice but I am happy that he respects my wishes. 

“Rhys?”I ask, and there’s a hesitation there. 

Yes darling? He purrs and I can hear him practically swooning at the fact that I said his name.

“I don’t wanna be alone, will you stay up with me?” I confess feeling like I’m baring my soul. 

Of course I will darling, all night if you want me to.

Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88

(I've never made a taglist so hopefully this works)

[particular-one]

oh, i was raised on little light.

synopsis. 5 times that blade listed every reason why he can never be with someone like you, and the 1 time you proved him wrong. pairing. blade x gn! reader cw. hurt/comfort, a lil angsty on blade's part with brief mentions of blade's insistence on dying, implicit spoilers about blade's lore in general author's note. i have been itching to write a 5+1 fic for the longest time now....i was listening to northern attitude and it reminded me of blade so bad. hello blade nation i know i understand why he’s so angst-ridden appealing to write for 🙁

when blade met you for the first time, everything in him knew you would be different from the rest of the group. you were the newest addition to the stellaron hunters, whom elio took a great fascination towards — why so, he never figured out, but this landed you in the same ranks as him, kafka and silverwolf.

you easily found a friend in both kafka and silverwolf; blade knew that much because he had watched as you indulged in kafka's innate interest in beauty despite the clear confusion in your eyes. he had seen how you would chat with silverwolf about the latest games that she's invested most of her time into.

but he would merely observe you; if, in any way, you had tried to interact with him, he would brush you off with a cold shoulder, never responding to your rather inquisitive words about him.

he didn't understand why you wanted to know so much about him, nor did he expect to be greeted with the same smile and greeting despite constantly keeping you at arm's length.

that was when he knew that you were too nice for your own good, but most of all, you were too nice to someone like him, who'd push you away even when every inch of his soul did not want to.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the second time was when you had accidentally found out about his despondency with immortality's curse and in turn, everything that blade had wanted to hide from you.

when you had approached him about it, blade immediately went on the defensive and angrily asked you to stay away from him. he didn't — couldn't bear to see the hurt in your eyes when he snapped at you, thus, the stellaron hunter turned his back on you and fled. which had exactly been the source of the never ending spiral of thoughts that was slowly consuming every fibre of his being.

he's done it now. he's blown any chance that he could form anything meaningful in this ruined life of his.

he had not noticed your presence in the common room, until you made a clanging noise that was the result of two porcelain cups making contact. blade was startled to see you here, especially when he had just uttered those spiteful words to you. he stood up to take his leave, when you called his name.

even the way you said his name had a gentle tenderness to it; he hated how melodious your voice had sounded, hated how he watched as you gingerly set down two porcelain tea cups filled with jasmine tea, one quite noticeably for him, hated how you took the seat in front of him and told him that you were sorry, and that if he ever needed someone to talk to, that you would always be there for him.

but most of all, he hated how his heart rose at your promise, and how much he clung to your words since that night. all the while fully knowing that he could never subject you to being intertwined with the likes of him.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the third time was much more of a painful wakeup call — quite literally. blade had always prided himself in diving straight first into battle without a single thought, desperate to die and get on with it. this mission was no different, but now you had been watching over him and ready to provide support if needed.

today's battle was much more vicious than his usual ones, but blade had always enjoyed the thrill of fighting. it had been the uncertainty of whether it would finally be his time that allured the stellaron hunter.

but… things had gone quite differently today. for the first time, blade was not seething in his obsession to die when he had seen you valiantly fight off the enemies that had threatened to overwhelm him. ha, as if they could.

he had not noticed that one was charging straight at him with his spear raised, and for a split second could quite literally see his long life flash before his eyes just as he narrowly avoided a fatal injury if it weren’t for the fact that you shouted for his name.

"stay still. i still need to bandage your side." your voice had inevitably brought him back to reality, just as you wiped off the last of his injuries with a warm towel. you had insisted on patching up his wounds yourself, and even when blade had told you that it would just magically heal by himself, he learned that day that it was rather hard to say no to you when you pleaded.

also, he could barely say no when he saw how you were radiating in concern and worry for him. not to mention how your eyes had gleamed like stars in the sky, but that was besides the point.

at the touch of your hand, blade suddenly winced at the contact. you immediately retracted your hand and mumbled an apology, but blade could see that your eyes was moving towards where he covered up the scars he's accumulated for fighting for over a century.

"are you wondering about my scars?" you seemed rather surprised at his question, but most likely due to the sudden indulgence to what you had been obviously looking at.

you slowly nodded. "do they still hurt?"

"not anymore." not any more than his painstaking wish to be free from the shackles of immortality.

you had started to set down the alcohol and bandages on the floor just as blade averted his gaze from you. the silence that proceeded was rather deafening, even for someone like blade who would rather sit in uncomfortable silence than deal with something intimate.

which was ... quite the contradiction to what he had previously allowed you to do, but you had slowly become the exception to many things in his life.

"there, all done. don't be too reckless next time, okay?" you smiled at your handiwork, and even if blade couldn't exactly benefit from whatever you had just done, he somehow felt a thousand times better than he's ever felt in a century. a flicker of a smile could unmistakably be seen in his features, and whether you had caught that or not, he saw you grinning all the same.

on a normal day, blade would have found himself grumbling about losing yet another chance at death, but instead, here he was, smiling at you.

the thought of dying at last had evidently crossed his mind more than once, but never did the thought of dying for someone else. blade very well knew that he could never be that selfless; maybe he had been once upon a time, but that had only costed him the sweet liberation of death.

and yet, the fact that he feels that greatly for you was enough to keep him up the rest of the night, the image of your blinding smile forever seared in his mind.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the fourth time these thoughts had started to creep up to him again was when the both of you coincidentally crossed paths at an ungodly hour, that you had the bright idea to go gaze at the stars together.

the thought of doing something together made his heart clench, but blade, against his better judgement, allowed you to take his hand in yours as you searched for the perfect spot to watch the stars from from their location.

the skies were clear that night, as if the universe had anticipated that two sleepless beings would be standing at the dock and watch the stars align before their very eyes. with a watchful eye, he stared as you could hardly contain your own excitement. "look, look! there's the brightest star — oh, i never thought we could get such a proximate view from here!" you kept flailing your hand everywhere and he wondered where exactly you had found that energy.

that was when he realized you had never let go of his hand, and instinctively, blade found himself clenching your hand in an attempt to let go. noticeably, your gaze flicked towards him, a momentary glance but the emotion it held in it was enough to send a chill down his spine. he could feel your grip on his hand loosen slightly, but blade didn't want to be a fool any longer.

something in him told him to keep holding onto you, as his fingers interlocked with your hand and held it firmly. blade could hear your breath hitch at his sudden gesture, but naturally, you just smiled and squeezed his hand back.

oh, how your smile had always made his heart ache.

"beautiful, isn't it?" you whispered under your breath, as your eyes were now fixed on the sky above the both of you. the world felt dangerously quiet, but he did not mind the fleeting peace it gave him. blade simply hummed in approval, his mind lost in the moment but he never found the urge to peel his eyes away from you.

to him, you were the brightest star that night and how he foolishly hoped that you’d never get tired of shining your light on him.

“yes, it is.” but foolish dreamers could never get what they want.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the fifth time was the last time, the time where blade had fully convinced himself that he could not possibly get involved with someone as great as you.

you were sitting across from him as you shared another cup of tea with him. blade could vividly remember the first time he had done this with you like it had only happened yesterday. still, it had been months since then — but you still haven't changed at all.

"is there something in your cup?" blade hadn't realized that his gaze became fixed on the porcelain cup that you handed to him minutes ago, that he barely even touched it. "no. it’s nothing.”

whether you had sensed his avoidance or not, you didn’t comment on it further. blade ended up taking a sip of his tea just as you were fiddling with the detailed carvings on your cup. now, it was probably his turn to sense that you had been avoiding something. “is there something on your mind?”

you looked up at him suddenly, no doubt wondering if blade had just said what he said — not that blade was particularly good at providing a form of care like you did, but his silence had always made him a good listener.

“you know, i really appreciate that you’re spending time with me.” you started, as blade watched your fingers graze over your cup for the millionth time, a habit that you had often done when you were nervous. how he knew that was something he’ll take to the grave.

blade didn’t say a word, only resorting to taking another sip from his tea. what was there to say? that he felt the same but a million times more in magnitude? it would be uncharacteristic of him to admit something that embarrassing. maybe, it had been his lack of response, that you continued to talk.

“sorry, i know you would prefer much quieter companions,” you spoke with a suppressed laugh, the same distinct chuckle that blade could recognise even from a mile away. “truthfully, i thought you even disliked me.”

it was his turn to be perplexed, as blade looked up to meet your gaze that was … on him. you sheepishly smiled at the sudden confession, before you took a big gulp of your tea. his head was spinning, and maybe it had been something in the tea, but blade could feel his tongue loosen with the many things he had been holding back. “i did. i do.”

a twinge of hurt crossed your eyes for a moment, before you casted your eyes downward. “oh.”

“i hated how nice you are,” he blurted out. “i hated how you would look at me with a great deal of concern in your eyes like i am someone to be pitied.”

“i hated how you’d still try to be there and talk to me, even when i had pushed you away before.”

“i hated how you are able to read me like the back of your hand. i hated how you could easily make me feel safe with your smile.” blade had wanted to stop talking, but the words kept going.

“i hated how gently you would tend to my scars, how your eyes would sparkle at the mention of something you love and how downright mesmerizing it is for me.” he watched as your eyes widened, before they were plunged in a tirade of emotions that were no doubt a result to his words.

he wasn’t finished yet, though.

“but most of all, i hated how whenever i’m around you, or even think about you, dying is the last thing i’d ever wish for.”

the uncomfortable silence settled in between them again, save for the whirring of the machines that blade was suddenly grateful for. he couldn’t bear to even look up at you, lest he’d see the hurt in your eyes again. “blade...”

“sorry. that was very unbecoming of me. i can go.”

“blade...” he took the last gulp of his tea before bringing the cup down with a clang. “thank you. for the tea, as always—”

“blade.” he looked up to finally meet your gaze that was only a breath away from him, before he could feel your hand gently cradling his cheek before you leaned your forehead against his.

oh. oh. you didn’t say anything more but still singlehandedly calmed his largest worries with just a simple gesture.

“you know, you could have just told me you liked me a lot.” typically, the cheeky and teasing tone in your voice would make him groan, but only this time, he allowed himself to smile. “also, what did you mean by the tea?”

now he was confused. “didn’t you give me tea?” you shook your head. “what the hell was that then?”

you could hardly suppress a grin. “you said you wanted rice wine one time, so …” so that’s why all those words spilled out of him … a groan escaped blade just as you laughed at his mishap, but not that he completely regretted it.

he knew that no matter what he did, he could never deserve someone like you — but he would choose to die for you a million times, that much was certain.

but for now, blade could most definitely contend for choosing to live for you instead.

written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)

[katiexpunk]

The Invited | Pairing Lucien Flores X Fem!Reader

Summary: Lucien Flores is invited back into your life in a very unexpected way, at a very bad time – what are you going to do about it? 

Warnings: Borderline abusive, controlling relationship (not with Lucien). Like literally, we hate the reader’s fiancé. No, I’m serious, read this one with caution, there are heavy undertones of the reader’s fiancé being controlling and generally not a nice guy, no matter how much he tries to play the part. Implied infidelity. Heavy flirting, heavy tension. Religious undertones. Alcohol. References to Lucien being a playboy. References to wealth, art, and money. General Hollywood/California vibes. This one will have a happy ending. No use of daddy, no use of Y/N. This is gonna have some filthy fucking smut, hand to my heart. 

Part 1 W/C: ~3.5K 

A/N: Just, yeah…yep. I am as horny for him as you all are (like what the actual fuck). This story will continue as I learn more about Lucien and his character. P.S. Sorry if you got double-tagged, I accidentally deleted the whole fic so I had to repost.

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It started with one look, as many things do.

Initially, it was all just innocent glances across a crowded room, perfunctory nods, and polite whispered hellos in shared spaces. It didn’t take long for it to turn into more than that; that’s just who he is and the effect he has. You can’t say you didn’t hear the rumors, heed the warnings through the grapevines of the limitless supply of women who came before you, but listening never was your strongest skill.

The only girls you know who listen are strapped to a church pew, on their knees, and for what? Salvation? At least you know the pleasure of worshiping at the altar of a man who promises he’ll make you see god, a man who follows through on his word, no questions or fuck-all commandments required.

Or at least you did.

Maroon 5 said it best, even the sun sets in paradise.

++++

As you stand by your bedroom window, the last rays of sunlight paint the room in a warm, golden hue, casting elongated shadows across the minimalist decor. The gentle breeze from the Santa Ana winds whispers through the trees outside, carrying with it a sense of anticipation – dread – for the night ahead. You hate these things, but schmoozing is part of the role you have to play, just one of the many rules he’s slowly but surely made sure you follow. The good girl he’s made you become.

Focusing on fastening the back of your earrings, you watch the sun dip below the horizon, a silent witness to the transition from day to night – light to dark – although things don’t feel that light these days.

"There she is," comes a familiar voice from behind you, causing you to turn and find him leaning casually against the door frame. His presence brings a sense of unease, a reminder of the doubts that linger beneath the surface.

A forced smile plays on his lips as his eyes trail over you, his gaze filled with a familiarity that feels suffocating rather than comforting. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, you wonder if he believes it or if he’s just saying it to say it.

Most of the time, his admiration feels hollow, a facade that fails to mask the cracks in your relationship. In his eyes, you see reflections of expectations and obligations, a reminder of the compromises you've made at the expense of your happiness. It wasn’t always this way, especially in not while you were just dating, but things quickly shifted once you said yes.

You turn your attention back to the vanity in front of you and slip one final detail – your engagement ring.

“Thanks. Ready?” You ask, feigning excitement as you glide across the room, wrapping your arm around his. You can tell from the way he looks at you that he has something to say, something to critique, but he remains silent.

You descend the steps in the grand foyer as it welcomes guests with its opulent charm, bathed in the soft, flickering light of countless candles. The air carries the delicate fragrance of freshly cut flowers, mingling with the subtle scent of expensive perfumes and cigars. The walls boast exquisite paintings and sculptures, each hand-picked, and sourced from all corners of the globe – a deliberate show of wealth.

As you step into the room, conversations swirl around you, punctuated by the clinking of champagne glasses and bursts of laughter. You observe the guests, their designer attire and dazzling jewelry all but scream like me, I’m rich.  Among them, art connoisseurs and collectors engage in lively discussions about the latest exhibitions and acquisitions. Directors, models, and Hollywood elites mingle effortlessly, their conversations flowing freely.

You're well aware that in L.A., half of the business dealings often occur in the shadowy corners of closed-door meetings, or in the expanse of lavish parties like this. It’s a city where nepotism runs rampant and connections are king. It's a city where who you know can often be more important than what you know, and navigating the intricate web of relationships is a skill in itself.

Dressed in an elegant gown, silky and yellow, your neck frosted in diamonds that shimmer like the stars above, you glide through the crowd with a grace that contradicts your inner turmoil. You’re good at this part, faking it, blending in. You might have grown up with this, but you never really felt like you belonged. It’s sort of strange to be surrounded by a sea of people, all while feeling like you’re stranded alone on a remote island.

As you exchange polite pleasantries and forced smiles, a nagging doubt creeps into your mind. Are you even meant to fit in with this crowd? Lord knows you wouldn’t be if you had anything to say about it, but being the daughter of a politician is a special kind of hell. We all have to make sacrifices. And you have – a lifetime of them. Sometimes, you can't help but long for simpler pleasures – a quiet Saturday night with frozen pizza, a bottle of wine, and a comforting movie. Fuck, you can’t even remember the last time you went out with friends, drank too much tequila, and flirted in innocent fun, or the last time you dipped your hand below the waistband of your panties without the fear of being caught.

Sipping your champagne, you endure a rather tedious conversation between the CEO of a tech startup and a broker. It doesn’t take long for the sensation of boredom to settle in, mingling with a growing sense of disillusionment. A dull pain throbs in your feet from the pressure of your heels. Their voices start to fade into the distance as you zone out, feeling increasingly disconnected from the authenticity you crave.

You decide you need a break, some fresh air. They’re not even listening to you; you're not even sure if they notice you're here or not. But still, forever polite, you excuse yourself anyway and make your way across the room, weaving through the crowd of suits and couture. You’re not thinking about anything except getting the hell out of here until you hear your name called behind you.

It’s a voice you’d recognize anywhere, in any lifetime, in any place. You stop in your tracks and look over your shoulder.

“Hi,” he says.

What the fuck? You’re sure you must actually be drunk now, or so bored that you’re delusional brain is conjuring him up. You don’t say anything in return, you just stand there. The room slows around you, bodies pause mid-motion, and your world goes silent.

“Been a long time,” he casually says, lifting the glass to his lips, eyes intent on yours.

His words, the low rasp of them, snap you back to reality.

“Lucien – wha, what are you doing here?”

“I was invited.”

You barely hear his response. Fuck, he looks so good. Handsome as you remember him, all salt and pepper curls, dark facial hair, and broad shoulders. He’s clad in dark jeans, and a colorful silk shirt, the buttons at the top undone, giving just the slightest glimpse of his sun-kissed skin and the chains that rest there.

Arousal pools in your belly, thick and heavy, a feeling that you haven’t felt in years. Not since him.

"Invited, by who?" you ask, your voice laced with challenge. He takes a deliberate step closer, his presence enveloping you in a heady mix of desire and tension. The air around him is thick with the sticky-sweet smell of cigarettes and the woody notes of his cologne. He smells good.

He's close now, close enough to send a shiver down your spine. You tilt your head back to meet his gaze, feeling the heat of his breath against your skin. Shit, those brown eyes. Your pulse quickens as his large palm closes around the back of your left arm, the touch sending electric sparks through your body. It's a soft but firm grip, possessive and confident.

As he trails his palm down the length of your arm, you hold your breath. He stops once your hand is gently balanced in his, and you feel his fingers brush against the cool metal of your engagement ring. Glancing around the room for a brief moment to make sure nobody’s watching, he dunks his head, and whispers in your ear, his lips so close that you think he might kiss your neck.

“I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

What.

He places a soft, innocent kiss on your cheek as he retreats and takes a step back. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body, lingering for a moment too long on your collarbones. The muscles in his jaw tighten, and he gives you a polite nod, before stepping away, slipping into the crowd, leaving you woozy and confused.

What the fuck does that even mean?

As you internally grapple with what the hell just happened, your fiancé finds you in the crowd, possessively trails his hand along your waistline, and plants a wet, rather drunk, kiss on your lips.

“What did he want?” he asks, harshly.

“Nothing, just saying thanks for the invite,” you respond, hoping he can’t sense your lie. Hoping he falls for your trap.

“If you’re lying to me sweet pea, that’s gonna be a real problem.”

“I’m not.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“So why do you look so flustered, huh?”

“You know how I get when I drink champagne,” you retort, playing up your innocence.

“Right, well you better pull it together, can’t have my girl sloppy,” he warns, his voice a little slurry himself, his balance unsteady as he takes another sip. He’s moved on from champagne to whiskey. A bad combination, a dangerous one.

“You know the only reason I invited him tonight was that I think it’s an important lesson for you –”

You interrupt, “YOU invited him?”, your voice clear and stark. The truth hits you like a freight train. You want to cry, throw up and scream all at the same time.

“Of course. Listen, baby, I know you went through your slutty phase, but look how far you’ve come.. look how much I’ve helped you grow,” he slurs, “men like that, don’t deserve women like you.”

And there it is – the truth.

Your blood hits a boiling point. You give him a death glare, but he doesn’t seem to notice before he’s quickly moving on.

“Come on, baby.” I’m not your baby, not anymore, haven’t been for a long time.

“I’d like to introduce you to some people,” he says, grabbing a fresh glass off of the passed tray, and handing it to you with a little too much thrust, enough for a few drops of it to spill over onto the silk of your dress. Your fingers grip around it and you follow his lead, despite the bitterness you feel. Ugh. Why is it so easy for you to fall into line now? Secretly, you hope the dull burn of the alcohol will distract you – calm you – make you forget.

You’re drunk, aroused, mad, and confused, and on top of it all, you’re fading in and out of the dull conversation your fiancé has you engaged in, or rather than listening to. Not like he lets you get a word in, anyway. You scan the room looking for him whenever you get the chance, trying not to be too obvious. You finally spot him in the corner and try to ignore the magnetic pull that lassos around you once you do. He’s talking to a model, because of course he is. Is he intentionally trying to make you jealous? Or is he just being his usual fuck boy self?

You chug what must be your sixth glass of champagne to forget the bitter memory of the last time you saw him – when he told you that you should just keep things casual, that he couldn’t handle the pressure of being with the daughter of a politician, that he would never measure up, and that this was just temporary, just sex.

It wasn’t, and you know it. You know he knows it.

But fuck it –

If he wants to play games, you can play games. You’re the one who’s engaged, this is your house, your space. You’ll show him what he’s missing.

With that in mind, your personality shifts a bit, part in courtesy of the alcohol, part because of your rage. You do your best to intentionally play up your happiness in a room full of strangers, show him that he doesn’t affect you. Show him that he doesn’t matter, that he never did. You cling tight to the arm of your fiancé, being sure to pull out your best doe eyes, your innocent fuck me eyes that you know men can hardly resist. The eyes you know that drive him wild.

But there’s no point, he sees right through it.

Shit.

He knows you too well, better than all the rest. You let your guard down with him, trusted him, and now he knows all the signs – all the tells – he knows where your heart and mind truly rest, probably before you even do.

Shove it down. Shove it down. He doesn’t matter. You are engaged. This is the life you want.

It’s not.

You watch through the corner of your eye as he excuses himself from the conversation with the model and walks through the crowd, intentionally finding your eyes as he does. He slips up the stairs, away from public view.

Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore him.

You can’t. You know you can’t.

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re stepping out of the conversation you were never really in, letting your instincts guide you. You lift the hem of your dress, your heels teetering slightly as you make your way through the bustling, suffocating room.

Each step up the stairs is a battle between your mind and your heart, your brain screaming warnings while your emotions, your arousal, tug you forward. It’s always been this way – a magnetic pull, an invisible force drawing you in to him like a moth to a flame.

This is a mistake.

Don't do this.

Do this.

You want this.

You're engaged.

Stop thinking.

Climbing the final stairs, your heart pounding in your chest, you surrender to the emotions swirling inside you. Your brain protests, but your heart has already made its decision.

"Luci—" you timidly call out, but before you can finish, he reaches out in the darkness and pulls you into his chest. You let out a little oof of surprise, but soon find yourself settling into the embrace, his warmth enveloping you as his hips press tightly against yours.

He doesn't utter a word, simply holding you close, his body a comforting anchor in the dimly lit hallway. His hand rests at your waist, the other gently cradling the swell of your cheek as he gazes down at you. Despite the darkness obscuring your features, you can sense him drinking in every detail, every curve, the small details you’re not sure anyone notices anymore. He’s looking at you like he always has, like you’re the main character in every story he’s ever cared to read.

With a tighter grip, he guides you further down the hallway, away from the prying eyes at the top of the staircase. Your back eventually meets the cool surface of the wall, and he pauses there, his presence dominating the space, sucking up the air around you. His grip on your waist remains firm, as if he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it.

Under his touch, you feel yourself melting, surrendering to the intensity that is the two of you. There's a confidence in his demeanor, a certainty that courses through you. A live wire of energy that you’ve never felt with anyone but him. He knows exactly how to read you, how to anticipate your every desire, and you find yourself powerless to resist.

You’re suddenly acutely aware of the ring on your finger, and before you can protest, he’s already speaking.

“He’s not the man you think he is, sweetheart.” His words pierce you like a knife.

You don’t respond. What can you even say? He can already see your truth, your reality, written plainly across your face. He searches your face for hesitation, any sign that he’s crossed a line.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and you can only nod. Yes, please.

This isn’t normal, this isn’t a thing that people frequently experience – it’s wrong, you’re engaged. Even if your fiancé is a grade-A asshole, you can still maintain your morals.

But the thing is – there’s something so electric about the two of you together, an undeniable force, a promise written into stone long before you even realized it.

The combination of your bodies, two halves of a whole, is the only excuse you can muster for why you’ve found yourself in your current predicament – pressed up against a wall, his broad frame pinning you into place, the weight of his gaze like a flame threatening to swallow you whole, turn you into ashes.

Even though it’s been years since he’s pressed his lips against yours, the weight of the pretty little rock on your left finger fades into distant memory, and he pulls you back to a different reality.

A reality where nothing else exists, a reality where your timelines converge, a reality hand-sculpted just for the two of you. One where he didn’t fuck up, the one with the happily ever after.

With your lips connected, it’s easy to let your mind fall silent.

And when he breaks for a bit of breath, your eyes connect once more and you can’t help the thought that crosses your mind.

What a pleasure it is to burn.

His hand finds its way to your thigh, and his fingers make their way to where you so desperately need them to be. Nipping at your neck, he whispers sweet praises into your ear, each word sending sparks of arousal that dance along your skin. It's carnal, primal, an undeniable biological reaction that leaves you practically dripping for him.

"You know me, better than anybody," he rasps against your skin, his words a seductive promise of something more. Planting a soft kiss on your collarbone, he leaves you reeling with need.

But just as you're about to respond, the telltale sound of creaking wood and heavy footsteps echo up the stairs, accompanied by the call of your name. Panic floods your senses as you realize who it is.

Fuck, shit – no, god damn it.

Lucien quickly steps away from you, and sneaks off into the bedroom adjacent to the hall.

Your fiancé appears at the top of the steps, his gaze sharp and knowing, as if he can sense the tension in the air. In that moment, you know you can't keep hiding, can't keep pretending that everything is fine.

“What are you doing up here?”

Fuck it, be bold.

“We need to talk.”

TO BE CONTINUED

If you like this, please consider a reblog (dm me if you want to be removed): @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @syd-djarin @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @morallyinept @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @morgaussy @yxtkiwiyxt ily.

[mournings-stars]

little songbird

part 2 (prelude) to my orpheus and eurydice angst fic "doubt comes in" — i'm not entirely certain i'll make this a full fic but if yall like it i might end up adding another part (would still be a prelude since part 1 is technically the end unless anyone requests a spin-off-esque addition)

part 3 (prelude pt. 2) part 4 (prelude pt. 3) part 5/finale (semi-alt ending)

includes: heaven lucifer ofc, a little lore, some blending of greek mythology, i don't think there are any warnings besides fluff and luci is a hopless romantic but also the relationship is ambiguous right now, still dramatic just dramatic greek fluff (also I made angels have golden blush because they have gold blood)

When you first met Lucifer, you’d just finished your duties on Earth and were going to come back to celebrate. As a Virtue, your job was to persuade the seasons into change — you sang a melody you’d taken from nature itself, soaring over the clouds and riding the winds until autumn fell over the world and you went back home until nature needed your persuasive help once more. 

But as you were going up, he was coming down. You came face to face, stopping each of you in your tracks. 

You’d heard of him, of course; Lucifer, the Morning Star, with his wondrous creations and unattainable dreams, but you never thought you’d see him in person — it always seemed like he was too busy working to ever come down to Earth. 

Yet here he was. 

You moved out of his way. “Sorry. I didn’t see you coming.”

“No worries at all.” He gave you a very charming smile, making you smile back reflexively. He took off his hat, tufts of blond hair falling in his face as he took your hand, bowing as his wings lifted him higher. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Humility.” He kissed the back of your hand and your small smile broadened. “I can’t believe we haven’t met yet.”

“You know who I am?” 

“Of course.” He pulled a blooming purple flower from his lapel, twirling it in his fingers. “You’re the one that made this.”

You didn’t know what to say, heart thumping against your ribcage with a swell of pride that he, a Seraph — and not just any Seraph — Lucifer, knew and coveted the small flowers you made blossom in a world that was filled with bigger, much more beautiful things. 

“I collect a new one every spring,” he continued, watching your reaction with a smile that he couldn’t help. Your eyes widened, hand gripping his without realizing you were even still holding it. “I came to collect a few of your golden leaves this time.”

“My leaves?” Was all you could think to say as your wings and heart fluttered with pride. You quickly dropped his hand when you felt your wings behind you, suddenly very aware of his presence and gaze. “I didn’t paint the leaves.”

“No, but you persuade nature to make them,” he laughed, tucking the stem of the flower into your hair as he did. “Who knew Humility would be so humble.”

“It is my virtue,” you said quietly, taking his hand to stop him from fussing with the flower he gave back to you. You opened his palm, brushing your hand over it. His wings fluttered the same as yours. “But thank you for your kindness, Lucifer.”

“Honesty,” he corrected as a golden leaf appeared in his hand, shimmering in the light. He stuck it into his lapel, where the flower had been, and grinned. “Such a generous gift and I don’t even know your true name.” You laughed at his tone, hinting for you to keep talking to him just as you were going to leave, and properly introduced yourself. “It suits you,” he said, “someone who creates this beauty,” he deliberately didn’t look at the scenery, “should have that beautiful of a name.”

“Aren’t you kind,” you said with a raised brow, knowing he was flattering you; calling you beautiful without outright saying it, you could easily pick up on his intentions. 

“Too kind for your liking?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” You said quickly. “I was only joking—“

“I know!” He laughed, soothing your sudden embarrassment with a zealous, maybe overly so, hand on your cheek. “Who knew an Angel of Virtue would be so virtuous,” he joked again, laughing and stroking your cheek with his thumb before he dropped his hand. He was certainly overzealous, but you couldn’t say you minded it. “I should stop teasing you — go on, I’m sure you have important work to do—“

“Your work is far more important than mine,” you blurted, then wanted to slap yourself across the face. “I mean, my work isn’t any more important than yours — I’m sure you have more important things to do—“ he continued to let you put your foot in your mouth, watching you try to make sense of your words with a doting smile and fluttering wings. “—I mean, if you’re staying, I can stay, too—“

“You want to stay with me?” He concluded with a grin and you blanked, shaking your head at yourself as a golden glow dusted your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he laughed, knowing teasing a Virtue like this was both cruel and profane, “if you’d like to stay, please do… but if you have work to do, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

You looked around, thinking that perhaps nature could use a little more of a push toward fall. The winds could be a little sharper, and the grass a little duller. 

“I’ve always wanted to hear your song,” Lucifer said, seeing the wheels turn in your mind and taking his chances. “If you think Earth could use a bit more help…”

You thought for just a moment longer before offering your hand to him. “You can help if you’d like.” He took your hand, and you rose higher above the clouds, listening closely for the soft melody that nature sang, before flying in the direction the wind took you and singing…

A simple melody. It was a song you knew well; there were no words or swells to make you know what came next, just an endless melody that the winds would sing as they carried the seasons through Earth.

And Lucifer knew just what to sing along, bringing the endless melody a harmony that made it feel so complete. He guided you beneath the clouds so you could see how the seasons changed — and then it came;

Summer rain. 

A tell-tale sign that your duty was complete, though it always came some time after you left. Now, you got to experience the misty rain and watch as animals came out to play. 

Lucifer laughed, wings going over the two of you to shield you from the rain. “Look at that…” He peeked between a pair of wings, reveling in the beauty you’d created together. “As usual,” he said, “a job well done.”

The next time you met was at the Season’s Celebration in The Garden. It was moved a week later to celebrate the summer rain, but it was a quarterly tradition. The other Virtues brought their specialties, but the highlight of the festivities were the heavenly spirits distilled by Charity and Chastity; not a single angel came without taking a bottle for themself. 

Cherubim played music, Seraphim danced, and the Ophanim made an appearance when they could, but the center of attention was on the seven Virtues and their drunk, lively dancing and cheering. 

The seven of you danced in a circle, glasses raised in the air with a flush of gold on each of your faces as you sang along jovially. 

The celebration lasted all day and night, animals coming to join you as wildflowers surrounded the seven of you. Butterflies, chipmunks, rabbits, and the like came out of hiding for a last experience before hibernation and migration. Birds came down from the sky, one in particular flitting around the circle and each of the Virtues before finally stopping in front of you. Pale yellow with red cheeks, tweeting at you until one of your fellow Virtues spoke. “It wants you to sing!” They laughed drunkenly, taking another sip from their glass. “We should all sing,” said another as you let the bird perch on your hand. 

It was the song of nymphs, muses, and winds; a sirenic song that each of you knew well. The plants in The Garden blossomed bigger and bigger and the bird in your hand flew to the middle of your circle before a cloud of white puffed around it. 

“Oh, it is you!” Laughed Chastity as Lucifer appeared, laughing along and twirling her as she said, “I didn't think you’d ever come to one of these.”

“How could I resist after such a beautiful change in the seasons?” He said cheerfully. “You lovely Virtues have outdone yourselves this year.” He then laughed, turning to Chastity, “and It’s always nice to see such heavenly creatures so drunk.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere,” said Temperance. 

“Certainly not with you,” said Lucifer and Temperance laughed at his jesting, the rest of them seeming to understand much more than you did, how to take teasing like his. 

“Flattery gets you everywhere,” insisted Chastity, and Diligence and Kindness laughed like they’d never heard anything funnier. “What’s so funny!?”

As the other Virtues started a loud, joking conversation, you met Lucifer’s eyes. He smiled, then looked at the music still being played and went to you. “Shall we?” He offered you his hand, wings fluttering behind him and making that same shimmering gold wash over your cheeks. It made him smile as you took his hand. 

“Patience is a much better dancer than I am,” you said as he led you to an open area. 

“But I want to dance with you.” And the moment your own wings fluttered behind you, he knew you just wanted him to confirm that. “Maybe you’re not as humble as I thought,” he whispered, making sure no other angel heard his taunts. He then changed the topic, hand reaching up to brush across your cheek. “You kept my gift.” 

“Of course I did.” You took his hand, using it to twirl under his arm as his wings lifted him higher than you. Yoy gave a very playful smile. “A gift from a Seraph should be coveted.”

“Oh, I see,” he laughed, shaking his head at you and your teasing. “You misunderstood me.”

“Did I?”

He nodded, a small half-smile on his face. “I wasn’t returning your flower as a ‘gift from a Seraph’—“

“You weren’t?”

“No, and you know that. That’s why you gave one back.” You laughed, a coy look on your face that made him shake his head as you looked at the golden leaf he still had stuck to his lapel. 

The two of you danced with all of Heaven watching as you spun, flew, and swayed to the music. He didn’t overstep, and he wasn’t overly forward with his gestures, but he was deliberate. He held you against him, but did it gently. He held your hand, but made sure you put your hand in his first. He lifted you with a smile and met you in the air, leading you back down as others joined in. 

Their laughter and chatting made it so that your conversation was much more private, giving Lucifer the chance to whisper, “How many gifts do I need to give you before you do understand?”

You hummed in thought. “I haven’t decided yet.”

But Lucifer had decided, since the moment he experienced your first time changing the seasons, he was going to love you; however you ended up loving him — a friend, a colleague, he didn’t care as long as it meant that he knew you. He didn’t even expect anything from you. You’d done enough; your ways of changing the seasons brought him out of his cold and lonely workplace that he’d never realized was so cold and lonely until he experienced your summers and springs; filled with warmth and community. Angels never ventured to Earth so often before you, and he could easily understand why. 

How someone could take on the job of multiple angels and the outcome be something so much more beautiful than he’d ever seen, he had no idea, but he was in awe every time he saw your humble work. He’d watch from Heaven, seeing the way you did things. It was the same as any other, but you didn’t indulge in pride as you did it. You did it for the good of the Earth, rather than bestowing a gift. 

He held the utmost respect for you. 

Though, Sera was certainly tired of hearing about that respect, because just a week ago, when you first met, she was the one to urge him down sooner. 

“You’ll never meet if you wait this long,” she said, brow raised as she stood behind Lucifer at the golden gates, watching from the clouds. “Humility is very kind. You could say hello,” she pressed. 

“Does Humility have a name?” He asked curiously, continuing to watch as the clouds changed. “It seems so rude… just saying Humility.”

“I’ve only ever known Virtues by what they represent; that’s how they introduce themselves,” she said, shrugging. Lucifer hummed, nodding and continuing to keep his attention on the clouds. She gave him a nudge, “You could ask.”

“You must want me to leave.”

“I want you to stop longing like this.” Lucifer laughed. “Go on.” She gave him a gentle push, making him have to open his wings before he fell. “Just don’t come on too strong.”

“Right…” He took a deep breath, smoothing down his coat. “I can do that.”

[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you 

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you 

dude 

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering 

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that 

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins 

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers 

wow 

fuck you

just landed 

thought you might like to know 

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess 

September 2021

dude enough okay 

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk 

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you   

November 2021 

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm 

idk why i’m trying again  

maybe i should block you 

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck 

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was 

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige 

merry christmas i guess

March 2022 

i misz you 

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich 

pkese pick up 

ignore that 

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you 

wait 

i don’t need to tell you that 

you already ignore it all anyways

 

August 2022 

i heard about the acl 

i’m sorry 

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm 

***

September 2022 

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more. 

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.  

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed. 

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake. 

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend. 

 “And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly. 

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly. 

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy. 

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else.  You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod. 

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it. 

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so,  “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest. 

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm. 

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.” 

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.  

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall. 

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free. 

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart. 

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.  

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it. 

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue. 

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

*** 

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet. 

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. 

“You wanna see my dorm?” 

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice. 

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack. 

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile. 

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things. 

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts. 

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin. 

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it. 

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force. 

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having. 

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself. 

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat. 

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota  state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy. 

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour. 

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other. 

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus. 

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk. 

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes. 

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.” 

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that. 

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together. 

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts. 

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard. 

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking. 

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane. 

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously,  “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches. 

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost. 

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,”  Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be. 

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps. 

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on. 

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears. 

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back. 

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore. 

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need. 

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something.  It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi. 

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step. 

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile. 

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her. 

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.” 

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen. 

“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her. 

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing  “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that. 

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?” 

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away. 

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again. 

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?” 

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch. 

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people. 

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige. 

“You having fun?” 

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface. 

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together. 

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste. 

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths. 

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety. 

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back. 

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall. 

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that. 

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly. 

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable. 

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing. 

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed. 

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it. 

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.” 

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it. 

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear. 

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most. 

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s. 

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up. 

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance. 

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

[guinea-pig16]

Late Night || Part 1

Glamrock Freddy x Reader

Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!

Fic is below the cut! Please enjoy! This is my first ever written fiction as well as nsfw, so I hope you like it!

Part 2 is now out! Read here!

Part 3 is out now! Read here!

Part 4 is out now! Read here!

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Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: slow burn (takes a bit to get to the actual smut) AFAB reader, slight dom/sub vibes, usage of pet names (once), praises, awkwardness, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, a bit of pining

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Late.

That’s the only thought that went through your mind at this point.

It was late. The shitty Fazbear brand digital clock you had sitting on your desk read 1:02 AM. You didn’t mean to stay this late, but when you came in for your afternoon shift at 5 today, everything in the entire PizzaPlex decided to break. As the singular mechanic/engineer that day, you got stuck fixing every arcade machine, photo booth, and any and everything that croaked throughout the day. And after doing all that, you still had to do the required monthly maintenance on the star animatronics of the PizzaPlex. It’s not that you minded working with them, that's what you went to school to do! It’s just tedious and takes longer than needed because of all their parts. Though, you could hardly call the job dull when you had such fun ‘coworkers’.

Chica was in general fun to be around, bubbly as can be with plenty of silly gossip to chat about. Roxy really just talks about herself and tries to get you to change her hair color, nails, accessories, etcetera, claiming it will make her even cooler. Monty enjoys suggestive humor that will either have you doubled over with stitches or so horrible that it’ll have you kicking him out of your workshop faster than he can say “rock n’ roll”. 

And then there's Freddy… The face of Fazbear Entertainment. He was the whole reason you decided to go into robotics. Your first day on the job he immediately made you feel at home, with his warm smile and caring attitude. The two of you had clicked the moment you began talking. As soon as you walk through the doors at the beginning of your shift, he was by your side, asking about your day, eagerly listening to your stories, and nodding empathically to your complaints. It felt as though Freddy and you had known one another for years.

Your checkups with him always ended up being hours longer than normal, the two of you laughing and talking about who knows what. You had to admit, recently being around Freddy has made your heart flutter, your cheeks flush, and your stomach fill with butterflies. You’d felt this way before with others, but never to the degree you do with him. But it’d never work out. He was an animatronic. You highly doubted he could even feel the same way. You didn’t want to find out and risk getting hurt, so you were content with the way things are, being his friend and mechanic.

You tiredly replaced your tools from the checkup with Monty, his laughter after you kicked him out still ringing in your ears. The bastard got on your nerves faster than usual thanks to your tired state, so as soon as you gave him the green light for ‘all good’ you shoved his metal ass out of Parts and Service with the promise of replacing his voice box with a squeaky toy if he continued messing with you. 

You huffed a laugh as you recalled one of his quips as you checked your to-do list. Your eyes lit up and heart fluttered as you saw the last thing on your list.

Routine Maintenance on Freddy Fazbear

“Superstar! How wonderful to see you! Monty let me know you were ready! I thought I would save you the trouble of calling for me.”

Speak of the devil, You thought as you turned with a smile. 

Freddy beamed at you as he walked through the door and stood patiently next to the entrance of the ‘operating cylinder’, hands behind his back.

“Hey Fredster, just gimme a sec and we’ll get started.”

He gave you a polite nod and smile. You grabbed your tool kit (decorated with various stickers Chica had slapped on without you knowing), and a worn-out rolly chair to sit on while working. You rolled the chair in front of the cylinder door and quickly punched in the entry code on the computer next to the door. 

The door slid open and Hand-Unit welcomed you for the 3rd time tonight. “After you.” You said as you bowed deeply and gestured to the interior of the cylinder.

Freddy let out a chuckle and walked in and sat on the maintenance table, you following with your rolly chair and tool kit. Freddy turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but then immediately frowned as he properly looked at your face.

“My goodness superstar, you look exhausted! Are you alright? Have you been getting enough sleep?” He said, concerned. His hand twitched towards you as if he’d reach for your face. You wrote it off as a minor movement glitch.

You shrugged and sat your tool kit on a table next to Freddy and sat down on your chair. “Ah, I’m fine. I just had a lot to do today, no biggie!” You smiled at him.

He didn’t look too convinced and opened his mouth once more, most likely to scold you for not taking care of yourself, when you cut him off. “Hey, how’d you run into Monty so fast? He’d hardly been gone 2 minutes before you showed up?”

Freddy froze a moment and looked as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ah… well… I just so happened to be… taking a stroll nearby…” He twiddled his thumbs a bit and looked to the side. 

Cute, You thought as you chuckled and opened your toolkit. “Yeah, suuuure… Freddy Fazbear taking a midnight stroll next to Parts and Service. I believe it.” You turned back to Freddy, who seemed to be very interested in the floor. “Right, let’s get started. Lay down for me and I’ll check your chest compartment.”

Freddy obliged and as soon as he seemed settled, you took one of your tools and gently pried open his chest plate. You began to inspect his gears, wires, etcetera. As you worked, a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as you focused.

“I apologize for interrupting your focus, but I have been wondering something.” Freddy asked out of the blue. You hummed in response and moved to look him in the eyes. Freddy was already looking at you, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Monty said you had kicked him out? I was curious to know what he did to cause you to take such measures.” You grinned and let out a laugh as you turned back to his chest cavity.

“Hah! Ahh, the jerk was getting on my nerves. As you can see, I’m pretty tired, so I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for him. Monty, of course, took notice of that, and decided it’d be a great time to start flirting and making dirty jokes. He kept saying crap like ‘he knew something that’d perk me right up’, while gesturing to his crotch.” You glanced at Freddy’s face and saw he looked a bit… upset? “Ah, don’t worry! He wasn’t making me uncomfortable, I thought it was pretty funny, I just wasn’t in the mood for his shit. Besides… it’s not like he even has a dick to begin with…” You trail off as you see a loose wire in his chest. As you fix it, Freddy remains quiet for a moment.

“We do have one. If you were… wondering…” Freddy says after a couple minutes of silence. 

You freeze a moment, allowing Freddy’s words to properly process. Slowly, you lean back from his chest cavity in order to properly look at him, disbelief covering your face. 

“What.”

Freddy is now looking anywhere but you. You swear, if animatronics could blush, he would be beet red. You can hear his internal fan kick in.

“Freddy. You guys have a… No. No way. You’re just messing with me.” You say, still in disbelief, as you close up his chest plate so you can more properly speak with him.

He sits up and rests on his forearms, still avoiding eye contact. “...We do have one… Well, at least Monty and I do. I am unsure about Chica and Roxanne, I have not asked, as it is rather… inappropriate.” He appears even more nervous and embarrassed now. 

You are still in shock. Freddy and Monty, have dicks. There’s no fucking way. Before and after you got this position you poured over all the animatronics’ blueprints, maintenance logs, watched all the shittily made mechanic videos the higher-ups gave you, nothing said they even have the capability of having a penis. As you process this new revelation, some impure thoughts begin to arise…

FREDDY HAS A DICK. Oh my fucking God. Who the fuck thought of giving him one? …I wonder how big it is- SHUT UP OH MY GOD. This isn’t real, oh my God. He has to be joking, he passed by Monty, he must’ve set him up for this joke. No, that isn’t like Freddy to go along with a joke like this… I wonder if he’s touched himself before- I NEED TO STOP OH MY GOD HE’S LITERALLY SITTING RIGHT THERE. He’s my friend I need to stop- You’re suddenly shaken from your frantic thoughts by a large hand on your shoulder.

You jump slightly, a faint blush dusted across your cheeks. You look Freddy in the eyes, who appears even more embarrassed, and a bit regretful.

“I am terribly sorry Y/N, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I am terribly sorry… Please forgive me.” He said, moving his hand from your shoulder to rest it on your hand. “I… I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

Hearing that, you quickly hold his hand with both hands. “No! No no no! You didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just… I-I didn’t think it was even possible for you guys to have one! I mean, I’ve looked over your blueprints hundreds of times, reviewed every single maintenance log, everything! And nothing said anything about you having a, uh, penis…” You break eye contact to look at the ground, unable to look him in the eye, your face growing ever more red.

“W-Well fantastic superstar! I was worried for a moment that I had scared you away, haha…!” Freddy said, gently holding your hands, also avoiding eye contact. 

A moment of awkward silence ensues, the only sound heard being your beating heart and his cooling fan frantically whirring. 

“Can… Can I see it…?” You say quietly, slightly hoping he wouldn’t hear you (which is stupid, since he can pick up the tiniest sounds). 

His head whips to face you so fast you worry for a moment he’d break something. His eyes burn into yours as you hear his cooling fan kick up a notch.

God, why’d you have to say something?

“You- you what? You want to… see my…?” Freddy stutters. If he were a person, you swear he’d be sweating by now.

“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that! I’m just…” God how do you even respond to that!? You just asked if you could see his dick! Family-friendly Freddy Fazbear! Your friend! You want to sink into the ground right now. Your face is on fire now. Maybe you’ve gone delirious because of how tired you are.

A moment of silence passes, again, as Freddy stares at you and you stare anywhere but him. 

“Alright.” Now it’s your turn to whip your head to look at him. Freddy appears more relaxed now, although still sheepish. 

“Uh… really? Y-You don’t have to-” 

“I don’t mind. Besides, this is all a part of the… checkup, right?” He says, his eyes twinkling with something as he looks at you, a small smile on his face.

You swallow a bit, heart fluttering with anticipation. “...Right. Right, yeah, of course!”

Freddy removes his hand from your grasp and sits up fully now. You hear a small latch sound and look toward his pelvis to see the plate there slide to the side to reveal what's beneath. With fascination and nervousness, you watch as a rounded cylindrical object rises from his pelvis. It’s quite large, maybe 7 inches tall, and wide. It’s plain orange, with a red tip. 

You stare at it in fascination and awe. 

Who the fuck decided to give Freddy a big dick? 

You look back at Freddy, who appears nervous again. “...May I… touch it…?” You ask, a bit more confidently now. 

Freddy’s eyes shoot to yours, and you swear you saw him shudder for a split second. He nods silently, intently watching your every movement.

Tearing your eyes away from Freddy, you move one of your hands to his… manhood? Honestly, you’re not entirely sure what to call it. Your fingers gently run up his cock to the tip. Freddy shivers more noticeably now, and slightly opens his mouth. 

It feels smooth and soft. If you had to guess it, it’s made from a type of silicone. You wrap a hand around the base of it, and squeeze slightly to try and get more of a feel of how it’s made. Freddy jolts a bit and lets out a breath, his eyes lidded and looking at you.

“S-Sorry… did that hurt…?” You stutter out, worried you’d caused him discomfort. 

Freddy quickly shakes his head no, his cooling fans whirring loudly. “Please… keep going…” He mumbles, gazing at you.

You flush more, and then begin gently running your hand up and down his cock. Freddy never breaks eye contact with you, his eyes half-closed now. His breath becomes labored and he grips the table. 

“...Faster… please…” He says quietly. You shiver hearing him sound so… needy. You decide you’d like to have a bit more… fun.

You smile sweetly at Freddy. “I’m sorry Freddy… I didn’t quite hear that… Could you say it again?” Your hand comes to a halt, and Freddy whines at the loss of friction.

“...Please… Go faster, Y/N…” He pleads, staring at you with lustful eyes. Your face flushes a deeper red as you smile.

“...Good boy…” He lets out a small moan when you call him that, the sound going straight to your core. You rub his cock faster, causing Freddy to let out small groans and grip the table even harder.

As you watch him moan and twitch under your grasp, an idea forms in your head. You smirk and stop all movement, causing Freddy and whine and look at you.

“...Why did you stop…?” He pants. 

“Oh, I just… have a better idea… If you don’t mind me trying it, that is.” You say, moving your head closer to his cock. 

You blush harder under his intense gaze. You hesitantly, stick your tongue out and lick the tip of his cock. 

At this small action, his whole body jolts and he lets loose groan. You smile, and then run your tongue up and down his cock. He grips the table so hard you know there will be dents later.

“Superstar… you’re, ah- making me feel so… good- ah!” He moans as you begin to put his cock in your mouth. He fully lays back on the table, moaning at every bob of your head.

Because of his size, you’re unable to fit all of him in your mouth, so using one of your hands you cover the part you’re unable to fit. You start slowly, bobbing your head up and down, enjoying the sounds of Freddy groaning. You then begin to quicken your pace, going slightly faster and faster, his moans becoming more frequent as he leans up to gaze at you.

Then, you accidentally take him in too far, causing you to gag a bit. Hearing this, it’s almost as if a switch has been flipped. Freddy’s hands fly to your head and force you to bob your head at a much faster pace than what you had been previously doing. You grip onto the side of the table to avoid tumbling out of your chair from the motion.

Freddy moans loudly and pants, his internal fan whirring as fast as it possibly can.

“Hah- Look at you my, hah, superstar… You’re doing so good, mmh! Doing so good for me…” Freddy tosses his head back and lets out a loud groan. “You look so, ah- beautiful like this! You’re so, hah… wonderful…” You moan slightly, hearing his praises, your core fluttering in excitement. Freddy bucks his hips upwards upon feeling the vibration, causing you to gag again.

“S-Sorry… Ah, D-Didn’t… mean to, hah!” He apologizes, one of his hands tangled through your hair caresses your cheek gently. 

Freddy is now hunched over your head, bobbing it up and down on his cock like his own fuck toy, not that you mind… Every moan he lets out arouses you more and more.

His pace quickens, and his moans get faster and louder. His hands grip your hair slightly tighter. You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

“Y/N… Ah! I’m… so cl-close… mmh! Oh Y/N… you- hah! You feel so good!” Freddy cries out, leaning his head back. 

You decide to help him out a bit. You scrape your teeth slightly against his shaft, making him cry out the loudest moan yet. He moans your name over and over like a mantra as he bobs your head down once, twice, and then opens his mouth in a silent yell.

Nothing comes out of his cock, but you feel it twitch. Freddy gently lets go of your head and collapses back on the table, panting. You pull off his shaft with a slight pop, also panting. Your face is beet red, with some small tears running from your eyes, as well as some saliva dripping from your mouth. You slowly wipe your face with your sleeve as you reflect on what you two just did.

“Y/N… that was… incredible…” says Freddy, as he sits up once more. You blush and smile.

“Yeah… it was really nice…” You rub your thighs together, your core aching a bit with lack of attention. Freddy notices this, and then hesitantly rests his hand on your thigh. You look at him and see him looking at you with kind, slightly lustful, eyes.

“Since you’ve finished your… checkup on me… perhaps I could… help you, if you wish…” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Freddy…” You say, leaning closer to him. He leans in closer as well. The both of you begin to close your eyes as your lips approach his mouth.

Right as you’re about to kiss, a loud alarm blares through the silent room, causing the both of you to jump. You whip your head from Freddy to your desk, where you see your shitty Fazbear clock rattling from the sheer volume of the alarm. 

“Ah… right… That’s the um… end of my shift alarm…” You sheepishly say as you turn back to Freddy, who’s put away his, ahem, appendage. He looks a bit sad, but understanding, as he stands up from the table.

You close up your tool kit and place it on your rolly chair. Unlocking the cylinder door, you step through and put your chair and kit back in their respective places, Freddy following behind. You turn off the alarm and read the time.

Jeez, it’s 2:00 already… I didn’t think we were that long… You think as you gather your things, Freddy standing silently on the sidelines. 

You turn to him and the two of you just… look at each other. Something feels different between the two of you now. You’ve moved past friendship, but you don’t know where the both of you stand now. You’re certain of your feelings for him now, but you have no clue how he feels. Tonight was already a very big step, and you don’t want to push him any farther. Is this all he wants from me? Or was this a one-time thing? Does he still want to be my friend? Or something more? These thoughts flooded your head as Freddy glanced away and cleared his throat (or more accurately just made that sound).

“You know… it is quite late. I would feel much better if I know you made it out safely… May I escort you to the exit…?” Freddy asked sheepishly as if he hadn’t just used you as a fuck toy.

I huffed a laugh and smiled at him. “I’d love that, actually.” Freddy beamed at you and bent at the waist, offering you his arm to hold. You giggled and interlocked your arm into his and began walking to the exit of the PizzaPlex.

A comfortable silence ensued between the two of you as you made your trip out. You blushed slightly as you thought about what the two of you had done. You leaned slightly into Freddy more, enjoying his warmth and feel. You wished he would hold you like this all the time. As you leaned into him, you could have sworn you felt Freddy hold your arm a little tighter. 

God, you were in love with him.

During your walk, all you could think of were his eyes, his laugh, his smile… his moans… the way he looked at you with so much desire. Your heart ached with your want for him, for him to feel the same way… But it could never happen, you convinced yourself.

All too soon, the two of you approached the exit. You both unhooked your arms and stood and looked at each other. You opened your mouth and speak, but Freddy beat you to it.

“I just… I wanted to say… Thank you… For um, what you did for me tonight… It was wonderful…” said Freddy, looking away a moment and twiddling his thumbs. 

You smiled at him. “Hey, it was no problem! … And besides… I… Thought it was wonderful too… I really enjoyed it.” You blushed and looked at your feet.

“Well… in that case…” Freddy, then gently held your chin and tilted your face until you were looking directly into his eyes. They were slightly lidded, and he had a soft smile on his face. “Perhaps I could… return the favor sometime… If you would like…” His voice was deeper than usual. You could feel the rumble of it in your chest.

A shiver went down your spine, and your face flushed. “I… Think I’d like that very much… ‘Mr. Fazbear’...” You grinned.

He chuckled quietly and gazed at your face. His eyes wandered from your own, to your nose, to your flushed cheeks, and finally… to your lips, where they stayed. 

“...Y/N…” He said quietly. You swallowed slightly. “Yes..?”

“May I… Kiss you…?” He asked, leaning closer slightly.

You let out a breath, and leaned upwards, getting on your tippy toes. “...Yes…” You replied.

Slowly, you both closed your eyes, and met for a soft, gentle kiss. Freddy’s hand moved from your chin to caressing the back of your head, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your own arms around his neck.

The kiss was so soft and gentle that it almost brought a tear to your eye. You’ve never felt so warm, so safe, so secure in your entire life. You wished it could have lasted eons.

But, good things never last, and you both unwillingly break apart from the kiss. You both stand there a moment, enjoying being in each other’s grasp, gazing into one another’s eyes.

“Well… I’d better get going… I’ve gotta get some sleep before my next shift.” You say, as you and Freddy separate from each other.

“Ah… yes. Well, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your night, and I hope you sleep well.” Freddy says with a soft smile.

You give him a smile back, and walk towards the door, opening it. Before you fully walk out, you turn back to look at him.

“See you tomorrow Freddy. Goodnight.” You say, giving a small wave. Freddy grins and returns the wave, as you finally step out into the crisp, cool night air.

As you walk towards your car, you’re internally screaming.

OH MY GOD, I KISSED FREDDY! NO WAY! I KISSED FREDDY FAZBEAR! OH MY GOD! This is a dream come true! You think to yourself as your start up your car.

You blush as you remember the… ‘promise’ Freddy made you. You have a feeling your next shift will be one you won't forget.

______________________________________________________________

I hope you liked it! I was a bit nervous about writing this, but thanks to some encouragement from some lovely people and friends I worked up the nerve and did it! I'm pretty proud of my first-ever published fanfic, and will most likely do more in the future!

Also, keep an eye out, you may see a part 2 for this in the future! (;

tagged people:

@dokoni-mo @burn-bunny

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Apr 9th

~*~

1. ITMF fics with (a) good and well-developed original characters! i really enjoyed "I told you when I came I was a stranger" and would really love to read more like these. also looking for (b) fics where wwx is brought back in an OC's body, where their identity matters to the plot (eg politically), like "The Housewife’s Guide to Causing Chaos" (wwx brought back as a yu) & "Everyanything" (wwx brought back as qin su).

would still like wangxian to be tgt, & complete/actively ongoing fics only please. thank you!!!!! @potatokunst

1B)

There's the wwx resurected in other people's bodies comp, but more specifically,

❤️ Beauty and the Boot by PTchan (T, 44k, wangxian, summoned by f!oc, Canon Divergence, Romantic Comedy, Genderbending, Denial, Fem!WWX, WangXian kids, Crack-ish, WIP) would probably fit

~*~

2. Hey there! For the next itmf:

I want fics where wwx is in love with lwj, and he knows it too. So I don’t care if its time travel or anything like that, I just wanna see wwx treating lwj good/like a spouse while being aware that he’s doing it.

And even greater would be, if lwj was very much confused/ in gay panic mode/ horny for it .

Thank you :3 @desperation-is-my-middle-name

two guys r in love thats literally it by victortor (M, 11k, wangxian, Time Travel, the fluffiest thing ive ever written)

When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending) more of an angst take honestly but it fits the prompt?

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

~*~

3. Hi! For ITMF, can you suggest fics where it picks up soon after the novel ends and explores wangxian’s relationship and how it develops?

Or just fics where wwx learns to take up space/ adjust to gusu and in lwj’s heart?

Thank you for your help, always!

And Yet Here You Are by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Cloud Recesses, settling down, Separation Anxiety, Teacher WWX, very light angst, Chief Cultivator LWJ)

call me home and I'll build you a throne by anaphoricae (E, 51k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Cloud Recesses, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Self-Indulgent, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy... and then Sexual Intimacy, Lán Juniors Gossiping about Wangxian, as a treat, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, little hurt lots of comfort, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Farmer WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, iMutual Pining, Communication, Quietly Falling Into a Married Life, Light Angst, Wholesome, POV LWJ, POV WWX, LWJ in braids agenda, Sharing a Bed, WWX's Birthday, Semi-Public Sex, Cold Springs, Inventor WWX, Jealous WWX, turkish translation)

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (M, 28k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Love Letters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Intimacy, CQL Compliant, No Plot Just Feelings, First Time, Two soulmates figuring their shit out, Let Hanguang-jun talk about his feelings agenda, Podfic Available)

my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Part-epistolary, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Homecoming, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again)

~*~

4. hello! for itmf any fics with wei wuxian and mo xuanyu? smth like i'll take a secondhand monster by stratisphyre

tysm<3 @r3n-vy

~*~

5. Hi! Hope u r having a great day!

Do you know any good wangxian fics where LWJ leaving cloud recesses along with A-yuan and raise him on his own? You know, before WWX's return? I remember reading one where LWJ competely fell off the radar once. Sadly, i can't recall the name. Pretty please @grrumpywoof

❤️ And Miles To Go Before I Sleep by Glitterbombshell (T, 23k, WIP, WangXian, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, LXC is not really a good brother in this sorry, Canon Divergence, rogue cultivator!lwj) It's a WIP that hasn't updated since 2020, but there's this

Home isn't Where the Heart is. by Hauntcats (Not rated, 7k, wangxian) Jingyi comes along too here

The Best I Can by Zephyr (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 26k, LJY & WWX, wangxian, WWX talking to his donkey, Canon Divergence, Light Angst, Drama, Recovery, Coming of Age, Secret Identity Fail, Friendship, Rogue Cultivator LWJ, Road Trips, POV Multiple, Happy Ending)

~*~

6. Hi!!! Thank you, you are all amazing and this place is magnificent!! Well, In the mood for... A) Fics were Wei Wuxian raised or helped raised the Juniors, all of them, modern if possible, I just finished The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 and the relationship with the kids is so amazing, even if is not the central theme also B) Zombie themes fics, similar to the previous one, modern to if posible with happy ending!! Thank you so much for everything!! Be well :) @monicaop21

6A)

🔒 and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They're Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending, podfic of and having a marvellous time by varnes by Spinifex) not modern but WWX raises all the kids

6B)

Darkness Before the Dawn by Selenay (E, 64k, wangxian, Zombie Apocalypse, Modern With Magic, Necromancer WWX, Reunions, toddler A-Yuan, There Was Only One Bed, There are zombies but not graphically horrific zombies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Find a home in the middle of an apocalpyse)

~*~

7. Academic rivals wangxian? :<

~*~

8. For the next itmf! I wonder if there are any fics where the lan and nie bros are really close and then wwx gets added into the mix, and there are shenanigans! Things like the lan/nie bros having a problem that only wwx can solve, or the bros discover how wwx's been treated by other people and get super protective. I just read With This Shadowed Blade and discovered that I very badly want to read more of this dynamic! Thank you all!

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury, dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks) 

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters.)

~*~

9. Pls pls next itmf secret relationship wangxian? Bonus points if it’s CRA but modern au or post canon or whatever is great too I just need it (I have read a few where their families don’t believe they’re dating but I want them hiding it)

Silenced With A Kiss by NinjaKK (E, 132k, WIP, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Flirting, Teen Romance, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Soft WangXian, WWX in WWX’s Body, Secret Relationship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Dates, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Canon Divergence, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Ripple Effect, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Optional Smut, Supportive LWJ, BAMF WWX, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Has an Angry LWJ Kink, Drunk LWJ, Gusu Lan Alcohol Tolerance, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect)

A Guide on How to (not) Have a Secret Relationship by Grapesey (YumGrapeJuice) (T, 6k, wangxian, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Boys Kissing, they are horribly in love, WWX is a Little Shit, LWJ is So Whipped, WWX is obsessed with LWJ's hair, JC is So Done)

~*~

10. For the next itmf could I see if we could find any fics where mo xuanyu is adopted by wangxian. I’ll take both modern au and canon type fics

a thousand fragile and unprovable things by theLoyalRoyalGuard (G, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Trans Male Character, Trans MXY, MXY Deserves Happiness, Best Dads Wangxian, Handwaving The Legal System With The Power of LWJ, A little bit of angst, mostly soft, Happy Ending, Gender Happiness, Let LWJ Wear Skirts Agenda, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

silk linked together by theLoyalRoyalGuard (G, 6k, LWJ & MXY, Wangxian, Modern, Autistic LWJ, Cellist LWJ, LWJ, Runs A Rabbit Rescue, MXY Deserves Happiness, Fluff) which ends w/ both wangxian relationship and Mo Xuanyu adoption in process.

🔒 and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They're Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending, podfic of and having a marvellous time by varnes by Spinifex) (link in #6A)

~*~

11. Hello! ITMF current wips? For the last few months Truth Will Out has been super fun to keep up with, but now it is complete I would love to find other wips to follow! Any genre (canon, au, or modern) and any topic/plot! Preferably something that updates with relative frequency, like weekly or every other week. Thank you so much!

No Matter What You Are by LilyFaraday (M, 209k, wangxian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Female WWX, MXY is a girl in this one and WWX has to deal with it, Genderbending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, A lot of comedy coming from WWX dealing with being a girl, and also using it to his advantage, Marriage of Convenience, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, no miscarriage)

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ) My current MDZS WIP is the A Matter of Time Series, it's currently on worlbuilding extras before the actual sequel. It's update about monthly but considering the amount of thought and worldbuilding and the size of this series I think that's pretty fast hahaha make sure to read the warnings first!

once upon a time, 很久很久以前 by gentil-minou (Flyingsuits) (M, 69k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, WIP, Modern, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, of the townwide variety, Amnesia, of the nearly everyone variety, Mystery, of the shenanigans variety, Not Everyone Dies AU, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, WWX is sad and down bad, Single Parent LWJ, except a-yuan runs away to find his other dad, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Once Upon a Time Fusion, Curses, part of the fun is figuring out how to make these characters as miserable as possible :) ) may i offer up my wip? Updates arent thay frequent cause each chap is over 15k but im hoping to post the next chap this month!

🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 51k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

A-Yuan's Big Adventure by KatanaHatake (G, 13k, wangxian, WIP, Time Travel, transmigrator LSZ, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Parents LWJ & WWX, People believing WWX birthed A-Yuan, Eventual Happy Ending, Accidental Baby Acquisition)

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 273k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives AU, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings)

🧡 The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 266k, WIP, WangXian, Ridiculously Long Notes, History, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX)

At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 28k, wangxian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

~*~

12. Itmf for qiongqi path divergence 🖤

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 23k, wangxian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Fix-It, the inherent eroticism of under robes, Golden Core Transfer, LWJ finds out about wwx's missing core and says i have plenty to go around)

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending)

in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX dies at Qiongqi path, Demonic Cultivation)

Home and the Heartland by Witch_Nova221 (T, 210k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Slow Romance, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self-Discovery, Golden Core Reveal)

isn't there a Qiongqi Path canon divergence comp?

~*~

13. itmf fics with Lan Wangji laughing/smiling/giggling etc. The bts of The Untamed with Wang Yibo laughing his ass off are killing me and i need LWG just being happy and laughing now

~*~

14. An ITMF ask: I am looking for fic where WangXian's marriage is being arranged but one or both of them simply don't know about it until late in the game -not just "everyone knows but them" but literally they are being measured for wedding outfits and are clueless. Pining a plus! HEA pls! <3 @kimboo-york

Searching for a Heart by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, married at first sight au, this is basically modern arranged marriage, Getting Together, Reality TV AU)

Lead Me On Through by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 54k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Practice Kissing, practice other things, horny boys in love, questionable logic, Questionable Choices, they're dumb but cute, but dumb, but really cute, slight knives, Happy Ending)

~*~

15. itmf modern au inventor wwx, similar to kizukatana's Truth Will Out? thank you for all that u do 💗

💖 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There)by H_Belle (T, 5k, wangxian, NHS & WWX, modern w/ cultivation, inventor WWX, secret identity, identity reveal, YLLZ WWX, rogue cultivator WWX, pining LWJ, WWX pov)

There's An App For Everything by Sweetlittlevampire (G, 4k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Rivals to Lovers, Friends To Lovers, Competition, Demon fighting, Getting Together, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Night Hunts, Wangxian x Caves is the real ship here, Happy Ending, Humour)

~*~

16. hi hi! could you recomend any fics where Lan Yuan grows up in Lotus Pier? thank you <3 @nyxiblue

What Remains After the War by Swan_Song (T, 41k, JC & LSZ, JC & JL, JL & LSZ, JL & LJY & OYZZ & LSZ, JC & WWX, WIP, Canon Divergence, LSZ is a Jiang, Good Uncle JC, Cousins JL & LSZ, JC Needs a Hug, JC Needs Therapy, The juniors solve a mystery, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, he tries his best, LSZ Needs a Hug)

~*~

17. ITMF any fics where other characters preferably Jin zixuan has an unrequited/one sided crush on Wei Ying. Could be any setting preferably Canon/Canon divergence or with some sort of cultivation and wangxian end game. Gimme all you have please @linossock

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[dreamauri]

┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part seven, finale <3 ┇ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen  x  wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( fluff )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( 1, 074 ) ╰  🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous )

Max tapped his finger in the back of his other hand, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The gentle breeze swept into the apartment, prompting the two bengal cats to jump up and cuddle into max’s body. The blond didn’t hesitate to pet the cats gently, scratching behind their ears and rubbing their belly.

It was too empty, He sighed. The whole place was too empty, the spot you’d occupy was now an empty piece of space. And Max couldn’t help but think, he’s his father’s son, isn’t he? Was your mother right? That he didn’t really like you and it was a stupid crush? 

No! It wasn’t a stupid crush. Max reminded himself. He loved you. He wanted to have kids with you and grow old with you. You were simply the smartest, most amazing, caring, kindest, and loveliest person he’s ever met. And he’d do anything to keep you happy. Even if it was letting you. He didn’t even have a say because he had brought you here without giving you a choice.

But what truly broke Max’s heart was, he truly thought you loved him as much as you do.

And he’ll hurt over it. 6 months until the divorce papers are fully processed and the rest of his life without you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was all dull for sure. People were starting to get suspicious of your absence, starting to make rumours about you or just plain out ridiculing you for not supporting your husband. Max believed the peak of such media bitting was here at the finale. 5 months and he’s never had to laugh off ‘where’s y/n?’ as much. He gave them the same answer. ‘She’s babysitting the cats. I don't want them scratching into our couch’.

Only Daniel actually knew where you were, and now that they were at the season finale filming the secret santa videos. Max wasn’t really optimistic about the gift receiving because what he wanted surely wasn’t going to fit in this little envelope or this little hand sized box. 

“I have no idea what this is.” He blew out a breath, shaking the box. It was light and small, rattling easy. Max opted for the box first since the envelope said open in private. Opening it, max frowned upon seeing a box of deck cards. With the words ‘you didn’t teach me how to play solitaire like you promised, yet’. 

“Ita deck of cards. With the words . . .” He took them out reading, furrowing his eyebrows to see. 

“Who on the grid doesn’t know- holy shit.” As soon as Max saw Daniel watching him from afar, he knew right away. “It’s from daniel.” the dutch laughed, looking down at your handwriting. You were the only person in his orbit who didn’t know how to play any sort of card games.

 “Do you know?” Daniel asked once he approached his former teammate. “You see the envelope yet?” “It says open-” “just turn around, i’ll make sure no one sees it.” And the blond did just that, facing away from the camera and pulling the envelope open. His eyes meet shreds of paper. “You’re crazy!” Max looked back back at Daniel with his jaw on the floor.

“It’s a private matter.” Daniel explained to the interviewer whilst the camera looking at daniel shocked and taken aback, disbelief but a neutral face still. “It’s not ripped all the way so you can do the rest if you want.” the woman behind the mic chuckled. Max got shredded paper and a deck of cards? How funny.

But to Max, these meant the world. Because he was literally having the most fun in his entire life continuing to rip apart the divorce papers in his hotel room that night.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The curtains were drawn and the windows were open. You’d been here. Max quickly entered the apartment looking around. Your canvases and painting equipment were out on the balcony and your clothes were back in the closet. Max had never been so happy to hug one of your hoodies. You weren’t here, the only thing reassuring max of your safety was the note you left on the fridge.

‘No eggs, brb’ He smiled to himself, taking it off the fridge. He can wait a few more minutes till you’re back– . . . or you could actually return right now, while he’s all sleep deprived in need of a shower and dishevelled . . . 

Max felt himself panic hearing the door click, a pang in his heart as he heard you push the door open and step in. With your carton of eggs, and a box on top. Once you caught his eye from across the room, you both froze. You stood in silence for a few moments before you finally cleared your throat and walked into the apartment.

You didn’t say a word. Setting the carton in the fridge and the box on the island. Max couldn’t help but look between you and the item curiously. “I—its an apology gift . . . It’s glass paint and brushes.” you pushed it towards him. “I’m . . . I’m For telling you through daniel . . . and for being so gullible.” Max welcomed you into his arms, hugging you back immediately. 

“I shouldn’t have let her get through my head like that. I should’ve listened to you.” Max didn’t want to say anything, he just wanted to listen to you. He owed you that. “I–i just want to be with you. Whether it's going to every race or staying here in Monaco. You really make me happy.”

Max felt his heart skip a beat at your words. He set his chin on top of your head, squeezing you in his arms. “Our story didn’t have a happy beginning, but I’d very much like for it to have a happy ending.” 

Max chuckled, smiling down at you. “You just quoted kung fu Panda?” You shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. “It's a good movie.” You said before cupping his cheeks, pulling him down for a kiss. A very long and much needed kiss because Max found his arms wrapped around you, unable to pull away. You guess your apology is accepted.

“You taste like car.” you giggled into the kiss. “You showered after the race?” Max shook his head. “I-i came to see you right away.” he said between kisses. “Let's go shower then.” You hummed as the two of you stumbled through the apartment, pulling each other's clothes off.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

maxerstappen1 posted on their story

liked by pieregasly charles_leclerc and 32.8k others

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (4)

summary: with the winter soldier in action, you couldn't believe who the person behind the mask was

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!f!reader

words: 5k

warnings: descriptions of weapons, wounds and blood. i'm not that good narrating action scenes but i tried my best! a russian word poorly translated i'm sorry if it's wrong :(, also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!

note: so we are finally here. the secret's out. i'm just figuring by now that this fic is probably gonna take longer than i expected, but i hope it'll turn out as we all want it! thank u as always for all the support and see u next time! if you guys ever have any questions or request feel free to dm me!

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3 ; part 5

Another two weeks went by and the wound was practically healed. It was uncomfortable to touch, and you could feel a little pressure inside from the contact with the vibranium. But other than that, you were able to live a normal life.

Fury had informed you in a phone call that you would be on your way back to Washington that day. The agents had no news about the soldier, neither about the places you had visited, nor about the purchase of vibranium in the vicinity of Siberia. With the strong possibility of an assassin on your trail, you were back to square one.

Steve had returned three days earlier, having gone on a mission with Natasha Romanoff, and Fury had left the Helicarrier the day after Steve left, assuring you that he would arrange for you to return to the mainland once the doctors had cleared you.

Of course, you hadn't reckoned on the fact that on your arrival at your apartment, just across from Steve's, everything would be a mess.

Your friend hasn't answered your phone calls, despite your insistence for about twenty minutes, nor has he answered your constant knocking on his apartment door. His inability to reach you puzzled you. The last message you received from him was that he would be waiting for your message to pick you up, which never happened, even though you called him for an hour.

Worried, especially when Nicholas didn't answer your calls either, you found yourself on your way to the Triskelion looking for answers when the burner phone you always carried in your jacket or one of your pockets rang as you were about to walk out of the building.

“Hill,” you answered immediately, relieved that someone was finally trying to get in touch with you.

“Act natural. I want you to leave the building and go to the black van on the left corner. Get in the passenger seat.”

You obeyed, the strange absence of Steve and Fury making more sense in the light of the events of the last few weeks. It had to be him.

You quickly spotted Hill's van and walked towards it, shielding your eyes from the sun with one hand, not bothering to look elsewhere. You got into the car in silence, Hill started the engine and drove down the avenue in silence.

“What's going on?” you asked after several minutes of tense silence.

You noticed Maria's disgruntled face, something that is not usually very clear unless the situation they are in is insurmountable.

“Is it him?” you spoke again at her silence, a layer of cold sweat settling on your hands as you saw her pursing her lips.

“Yes,” Maria nodded, never taking her eyes off the rearview mirror. “He's here.”

“Where's Steve?” your voice almost came out on a thread, fearing the answer was worse than imagined possible. You knew this was coming, but so soon? You felt nauseous at the thought of meeting him once again.

“He escaped with Romanoff,” Maria took a turn, accelerating the car's speed. “They're fine.”

“And Fury?”

“The soldier tried to kill him. Twice.”

You let out a choked exclamation, covering your mouth with both your hands in surprise.

“He's alive,” Hill tried to calm you, when you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your throat. You tried to feel the relief her words brought, but the choking sensation kept growing as the seconds passed. “Steve and Natasha don't know, though. We have to let them think Fury is dead, only then can we get some leverage.”

“God, all this happened in two days?”

“And whatever else is coming. We don't know where he's at or who he's moving near,” Maria shook her head, realizing just barely that you'd left a bit of the suburbs behind. “Fury wants you here.”

A sort of abandoned dam gaped through the trees. Hill pulled the car to the left, hiding it between long logs and bushes.

“What's this supposed to be?”

“You can call it another secret section of SHIELD... or Fury's,” Maria closed the trunk of the car, where she'd been rummaging through something as you climbed down, handing you a bulletproof vest that you didn't hesitate a second to adjust around your torso. “How's the wound?”

“It only hurts to the touch. But I can move fine.”

“Who knew the Supersoldier's weakness would be vibranium.”

Maria opened an unlocked metal fence, mentally wondering if this was really such a safe place to have no security of any kind. A long hallway stretched out in front of you, which felt eternal under the yellow lights, until you turned at the bottom right and there he was. Nicholas Fury.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“Whatever you did to the soldier, I already made it worse,” Fury coughed, the slight movement of his body causing him to grimace in poorly disguised pain. “Now he's looking to kill us all.”

“And what did you do?”

“Alexander Pierce,” was all he answered, sharing a look with Hill that you didn't know how to decipher.

“The... secretary?”

“Remember Peggy's theory that we could never prove?”

Fury spoke again, your attention completely directed at him. Of course you remembered that. And of course you remembered the way you had flatly denied that possibility out of fear of what that would mean for your friends' legacy. To Steve's legacy. To Bucky's legacy.

There was no need to elaborate, with one look from the Director you knew exactly what he meant.

“Alexander Pierce tried to kill you?”

“It's him, Y/N. The Winter Soldier was the one who killed Howard and Maria Stark in order to get the serum to HYDRA, to create more supersoldiers.”

“We're infiltrated by double agents, that's why it was always so hard to uncover them,” Maria continued, her words barely echoing in your head, never breaking your gaze from Fury.

Eyes crystallizing, you never felt so helpless as you remembered that you had it in your hands to avenge their deaths and didn't. And now he was here, seeking to claim more innocent lives for the benefit of a nefarious organization. No, no, that wasn't going to happen.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

“Fury.”

“No.”

“Nicholas.”

“No, Y/N. You just barely recovered from that vibranium wound, and you want to risk being face to face with that monster again?”

“I wasn't ready at the moment, but I am now. Nicholas, please. I can't sit idly by when Howard's killer is out there,” you frowned at him, your anguished, desperate voice nothing more a reflection of everything you felt in your chest. But Fury was shaking his head once again, ready to give way to no excuses.

“I can't risk you like this again,” Fury barely murmured, your ears catching the words clearly.

“But I won't be alone. Steve and Natasha are there.”

“And they're hiding, too,” Fury assured, clasping his hands over his abdomen.

You frowned, your back slumping against the back of the chair. Hill's sympathetic look on the other side of Fury's gurney angered you. How could they think the best decision was to leave you behind? You weren't the one lying prostrate on a gurney with a bunch of broken bones.

“They're closer to the lion's den than I am right now.”

“But them the soldier doesn't know yet,” Fury pointed at you accusingly, rearranging himself on the bed with a grimace.

You looked at Fury, his one eye daring you to contradict him. It was probably true, you weren't going to deny it. But that didn't give them too much of an advantage, if it was true that many SHIELD agents really were part of HYDRA. Natasha and Steve wouldn't be able to do much if, in addition to the soldier, a hundred double agents showed up to stop them. Maybe even the three of them wouldn't be enough, but you weren't willing to stand by and do nothing. Not when you had the opportunity so close. Fury might not see it the same way, but you couldn't demand it of him when he hadn't gone through what you had gone through so many years before. He didn't see the blank stare of a young Tony, regretting and chastising himself for what had happened, for something completely out of his control.

Fury wasn't going to accede to your wishes, that much was certain. But the good thing was that as a protected subject of SHIELD, you had your own wild cards within the agency, like bypassing the Director's orders when you saw fit, as in the case of anything deemed an emergency.

“Well, try to stop me.”

You stood up, turned around and started walking in the direction of the exit, the expansive hallway welcoming you once again.

“Y/N,” Fury exclaimed, his body leaning forward as if he had truly believed he could follow you with so many wounds on his body. “Hill.”

As Maria approached you, you raised your hand, her feet stopping almost instantly.

“No,” you looked at her and then looked back at Fury.

“Fuck, Agent Carter really has no idea what she did giving you those powers.”

“You know damn well I can take good care of myself, just as well as she can. I'm not going to let him get away this time.”

“That's what worries me. You're so consumed by this idea of revenge that you'd sacrifice anything.”

“And you wouldn't?”

Fury frowned, the words he intended to counterattack with dying in his throat.

“If you'd had to go through the death of one of your best friends, knowing it had been a murder that would never be investigated as such and go unpunished. When after spending years and years trying to seek justice, life brings you home empty-handed. Do you have any idea how that feels, Nicholas? Maybe I'd be willing to sacrifice anything to punish the killer of Tony's parents, yes, but I swear I'm not leaving this world if I don't take him with me.”

The man on the gurney sighed, sharing a look with Hill to which she responded by lifting her shoulders. The defeated sigh Fury let out was enough of an answer you needed, but he added:

“Let me tell you something first.”

-

You were trying to follow the black car that was moving at high speed across the bridge. You had no way of communicating with Steve because he clearly didn't have his burner phone with him and neither did Natasha, as Hill had tried to contact her before meeting you with no result.

You had identified four people in the car, one of them being Natasha's reddish hair, before an armored van completely blocked your view. Steve must've been with her in the car, but you had no idea who the other two people accompanying them were.

That is, until you saw him.

The Winter Soldier, getting out of the armored van and moving to jump into the black car where Steve and Natasha were, the panic that ran through your body forcing you to press the accelerator to the maximum.

Despite the armored van blocking your path, you could tell from the left as the soldier smashed the back door glass, your blood freezing for a minute until you recognized Jasper Sitwell flying out through the window, courtesy of the tug the soldier gave him until he landed in the opposite lane of the bridge.

The sound of gunfire alerted you, moving to try to pass the van once again, when you heard a car brake followed by the screech of metal against the ground. The van suddenly sped up, clearing a path for you now that it didn't seem focused on blocking your way, and you caught up to its pace by the time it slammed into the trunk of the car Steve was in. The pickup took the car over the front, with the soldier gaining momentum to get on the roof of the car and not resting until he was able to wrench off the steering wheel and turn back to get into the armored truck.

You kept pace with the van, trying to catch up with the black car, when a second hit on the trunk caused them to lose control of the car. You slammed on the brakes when, before your heart could leap out of your mouth, you saw three people roll against the road using one of the car doors. You didn't have time to react when the soldier threw a grenade in the direction of your companions, Steve pushing Natasha and the impact pushing him so hard that he ended up flying under the bridge.

You opened the car door, getting out as quickly as possible and impacting Natasha in the process. Neither of you had time to say anything as the hail of bullets began.

“Run,” you exclaimed over the noise, pointing to the opposite lane of the bridge. “I'll cover you.”

You pulled out the dual pistols you packed in your belt, using your car as a shield as you fired in the direction of the soldier and his henchmen, hoping Natasha hadn't wasted a single minute. However, with the grenade launcher at hand, it was hard for you to get far. The moment Natasha jumped off the bridge, you didn't waste a second running in the direction Steve had fallen when the shell hit him, the sound of the bullets barely grazing you, the soldier in your peripheral vision walking in your direction.

You found Natasha the moment you hit the ground, the serum helping you keep your balance and she wasted no time in grabbing your arm to pull you into the shade.

“He's a fucking lunatic,” Natasha pointed at his shadow over the bridge at you, moving in stealth for both of you to shoot when his gaze was on a bus that had overturned.

If you hit him, there was no time to know, running straight for cover behind the bus. When the sound of bullets returned, a mutual nod between Natasha and you was enough for both of you to aim directly at the soldier, firing repeatedly.

“Run,” Natasha exclaimed, her pistols steady in her hands.

You wasted no time, instantly moving in the direction of the sidewalk, firing sporadically backwards to get Natasha to your side.

“How did you get here?” the overloaded, muffled voice of Natasha startled you, finding her crouching next to a car activating the voice engine of a holopad.

“All SHIELD cars have a tracker,” you barely replied, trying to keep your breathing in check, glancing over your shoulder in the direction they had left the soldier.

Natasha made an affirmative sound, leaving the holopad with a voice recording right at the bottom of a car tire.

“This will give us enough time to take him by surprise. Come on,” she moved to the other side of the sidewalk, moving between the altered bodies of civilians to camouflage herself before finding cover behind one of the cars, her feline gaze fixed on the approaching soldier. “If Steve finds out you're here, he's going to fall on his ass.”

“I've been in worse battles.”

“Girl, you have no idea what we've seen.”

You frowned at her, the mystery behind her words leaving much to be desired. Before the soldier got any closer, when he was distracted falling into Natasha's trap, she signaled you with two fingers to move to the right, down the path they had taken to get there, and you knew she was expecting she couldn't hold him off for long and needed you for support.

When the bomb behind the car exploded, Natasha jumped over the car and took the soldier by surprise falling on his shoulders, both struggling hard until he threw her against a car ready to shoot her, when Natasha threw a small shock device at him that neutralized his arm and gave him enough time to gesture a run in your direction.

Natasha took the lead, alerting the civilians and trying to get as far away from the soldier as she could, when one of his bullets hit her and you cursed between your teeth. You watched him move to the right, looking to shoot Natasha from behind and didn't think twice before you took momentum and jumped on him, crossing your legs around his torso and using your right arm to cut off his breath.

He dropped his weapon, the thud attracting the redhead's attention. You barely managed to make a running gesture with your hands as the soldier slammed into your side until your legs gave way from his grip and, grabbing you from torso height, flipped you over until you crashed your back against the hood of the car you two had been struggling over.

When you saw him pull one of his knives out of his pants, you arched up quickly, jumping out of the car and taking a defensive position in front of him, who had remained kneeling in front of the place you had occupied.

Just at that moment you noticed that part of his mask had fallen off, finding yourself face to face with blue eyes that almost made you lose your balance.

God, those eyes felt so familiar. If it wasn't because you knew he had died you would believe it was him, because you would recognize those eyes anywhere in the world.

The soldier stood up, getting out of the car and approaching you as if you were his prey.

“Zhivoy,” he muttered, moving the knife between his fingers and cocking his head to the side without taking his eyes off you. You recognized the Russian instantly, barely having a second to process it when the fight started.

You heard a curse behind you followed by quickened footsteps that you quickly recognized as Steve's, and that was enough of a distraction for the soldier to pounce on you.

You narrowly dodged his first attack, managing the speed to your advantage, ready to block it when he lunged a second time. His blade grazed your forearm, but the pain was nothing and you didn't let it distract you from attacking him, sending a strong kick into his torso after you neutralized one of his arms.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Why don't you have your fucking burner phone?” overly concerned for your friend's well-being, you could barely process what he had told you, trying to pull more bullets from your belt to load one of your pistols, finding the cartridge completely empty. You both stared at the soldier, Steve ready to leap into action the moment he stood up.

“You shouldn't be here,” was what Steve said, before lunging at the soldier the moment that one put his feet on the ground.

You seized the moment to go to Natasha, pulling out of your pockets a spray painkiller that you knew you would need to apply to Natasha's shoulder.

“You really are prepared for anything.”

Around the chaos, you managed as best you could to move Natasha as far out of range of the mess as possible, and turned just barely to see the soldier throw Steve's shield at him, who dodged it just barely without stopping running. When you saw the knife in the soldier's hands, a scream almost left your throat.

Steve and the soldier began a hand to hand fight that you could barely follow, looking in every direction for anything that might help your friend. But with nothing but your own strength to defend him, you moved in his direction as the soldier lifted him by the neck and threw him.

About to fall with the fist of his metal arm, you pushed him to the side causing him to lose his balance, helping Steve to his feet before resuming the hand to hand.

The soldier passed his furious glare over you before heading straight for Steve, the same blond pushing you aside and meeting the soldier fist to fist.

You stepped in between the two once again as the soldier pulled out a blade and you intercepted his arm midway, hitting the weak spots necessary for his hand to open and release the blade. His blue eyes met yours for a second, before he furiously grabbed both of your hands by the wrists, which held his right hand, with his metal hand, to raise them above your head and send you to the ground with a kick to your entire torso. He didn't walk away without first exclaiming again, “Zhivoy.”

Steve snarled, once again taking possession of his shield and closing in on the soldier before he could approach you once more. Retrieving the blade from somewhere on his belt, you heard them struggling against each other, but only one thought kept running through your head, racing your heart in a panic.

His eyes are so like Bucky's.

But that couldn't be possible. Bucky's fall was not to survive, how could he have survived? Worse, how could he have survived to become that?

How could Bucky be the one responsible that you had been looking for for so many years?

Hating to allow senseless emotions to take over your rational side, you rose once more raising your legs and landing on your feet, just for the moment when Steve slammed his shield into the forearm of his metal arm and turned to grab the soldier on his back, pushing him with his own back so that he fell off the other side of the road.

But your breath caught in your throat as you heard his voice, barely a whimper before Steve sent him flying across. The blond turned to look at you in concern, for the sound you had let out almost sounded like a groan of pain, when your horrified gaze met his among the masses of air.

For a moment, it seemed like everything around you stopped.

Steve frowned and in a split second turned his head away, tears making their way into your eyes without you being able to take a moment to fully process what you were seeing. Everything sounded a little slower, Steve's defensiveness soon faltering as he understood why you had sent him that look.

The soldier's mask on the ground, his head turned in your direction, that face you never thought you'd see again.

“Bucky?” Steve was the one who spoke, in stupefaction, and the soldier's face contracted in anger.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

With tears rolling down your cheeks and Steve's frozen stance, neither of you reacted when the soldier raised the gun in your direction, you for a split second regaining your consciousness and moving towards your friend when the sound of metal and a man appeared behind the soldier, large metal wings standing out behind the man who had just pushed the soldier out of the way.

You froze midway through holding Steve's arm, your hand sliding down his pants barely catching his attention.

The frightened look on the soldier's face, on Bucky's face, which he returned to them as he stood up, didn't stop you this time from reacting as he raised his gun at Steve once more, pulling your friend behind you, leaving your back exposed until you heard an explosion and noticed the pale Natasha a few steps behind, the missile launcher in her hands. You wanted to thank her, but you were too overwhelmed to think too much about it, to process fast enough what was happening. You had barely noticed that Steve had put the shield right behind you, holding you tightly against his chest.

When the explosion dissipated, the soldier was gone.

The sound of sirens and cars too far away, as Steve released his grip and looked in every direction he could to see if he could see him again. But the cars surrounded them with ease, Steve's clear eyes falling on yours, his expression a replica of yours, stupefaction and sadness reigning in them.

-

You didn't quite remember the journey or what had happened to make you end up back at the abandoned dam in front of Fury, Natasha finally having her shoulder tended to. They must've been talking for a while, because you felt their gazes on you, as heavy as the overwhelming pain that had fallen on your shoulders.

It couldn't be hard now. No. You couldn't back out after all these years… You really couldn't…

You couldn't even look Fury in the face.

When you felt a squeeze on your shoulder, even though you knew it was Steve, you couldn't find the strength to lift your head to look at him.

The conversation had moved to a nearby table and you were almost surprised to see Fury sitting there as if he didn't have some broken ribs, but you tried to pay attention because you couldn't risk failing at this plan.

“What's that?” the man standing to the side of Steve, who had introduced him to you as Sam a couple of minutes earlier, turned to Fury, who was showing the programming cards you were to use on the mission.

“Once the helicarriers reach nine hundred meters altitude, they will triangulate with the Project satellites and be weapons,” Maria explained to them, flipping her computer to show the plan visualization.

“Intercept those transporters and replace their targets with ours,” Fury complemented, the images becoming clearer on the blue screen.

“One or two won't be enough,” Maria spoke again, her eyes sweeping over those of everyone around. “We must intercept all three of them, because if one of those ships keeps running, a lot of people will die.”

Steve's hand found your shoulder again, apparently noticing how hard you were trying to stay present in the conversation, moving your intertwined hands on your lap tirelessly. Your head kept coming back to that moment in the road, his frightened look enlarging the hole in your chest, the uncertainty of not knowing what had happened to him after that, where he was at that moment, if he was even okay.

But at the same time the rejection, the sadness, the heaviness? How could you stand there and blame him when he didn't even seem to remember who he was? You had spent years looking for that culprit, looking to bring peace to the memory of Tony's parents, and now that you knew who he was, why didn't you feel calmer? Why did the pit in your stomach feel deeper and deeper? Why was your heart pounding with fear because you didn't know where he was?

“Look, I didn't know about Barnes,” Fury's words made you raise your head, his sorrowful gaze directed at your friend and momentarily passing over you. Steve's hand on your shoulder tensed slightly, leaning forward a little, his attitude more hostile than you remembered in the few minutes you'd left the conversation.

“Even if you had known, would you have told us? Or would you have compartmentalized too?” Steve's hard expression gave way to no claim, his hand firm on your shoulder. “SHIELD, HYDRA… it will all go away.”

-

The green views from the dam's high trail were pretty enough that you could distract your mind for a moment, the weight of Steve's presence at your side keeping you anchored to reality.

“Y/N,” Steve was the first to speak after spending several seconds in silence, his arms resting on the railing with his hands clasped together. “There was something I heard about and I… I don't know how to process it, but I think you have the answer.”

Your body didn't bother to react to his words, barely shaking your head in a subtle nod prompting him to speak.

“With Natasha we used a flash drive that led us to the coordinates of some… old SHIELD facility. There, at the time, Zola was alive,” Steve paused, your brow barely furrowing as the information caught your attention. “Well, his brain was alive because of technology. Everything was a machine. But the point is, he said something, that HYDRA makes a lot of things look like accidents when they're not, and he showed us a picture of Howard and Maria's accident.”

You half-opened your lips, taking a deep breath, too emotionally drained to care too much about what you knew he was going to ask.

“Maybe I wouldn't have made the connection if I hadn't stayed in that room to listen to you and Fury, but those mystery accidents you said were connected to the Winter Soldier, was theirs one of those?”

You felt his gaze on your profile as a lone tear ran down your cheek. There was nothing more you could say to him, at that point it was more than fair for you to give him a concrete answer.

“That's why you stayed after Howard's funeral, besides Peggy. She told me you had spent a lot of time investigating something you couldn't tell Tony. That's why you're running away from him everytime.”

Surely it was because you felt guilty, but more tears ran down your cheeks as Steve beside you only sighed.

“Why didn't you just… tell me?”

“I don't know, I didn't… I didn't want you to carry that around. You'd barely been back, knowing about his death had to be too much already, and I couldn't add to the fact that it hadn't been an accident. You have no idea how long I've been carrying this weight on my shoulders trying to find the culprit… and now… now this…”

“I wouldn't have minded sharing that with you,” Steve frowned. “It would've helped either way.”

“I'm sorry," you whispered in the middle of a sob, his deep breath sounding close as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I'm so sorry, Steve.”

“It's okay, it's okay,” his soothing, comforting voice sent you spiraling, not understanding how he could put it all aside and accept your apology without further explanation. His hand running up and down your back caused emotions to explode inside you, your body breaking into a sob that Steve was already expecting, his arms holding you tightly as you cried your soul out.

You didn't deserve someone like him in your life. You seemed to be doing him more harm than good.

-

tag: @rubyxx16

[theotherbuckley]

WIP Wednesday 🫠

Tagged by @wikiangela @daffi-990 @tizniz

I gave in and started writing a Bucktommy fic because I love them so so much. Someone tell me to study instead of obsessing over these men. Please… I have 5 assignments and 2 tests. I need to stop thinking of these boys. Bucktommy kiss has been watched so many times I see it when I blink.

Anyway… I love bucktommy so here have this:

When Eddie leaves Buck waits approximately 13 seconds before he’s taking out his phone and calling Tommy.

“Evan?” Tommy answers. And fuck, Buck can not get over him saying his name. It’s just his name. But also, it’s his name!!! There’s something so right with the way Tommy says it. He’d never really cared for his first name. It was too associated with his past and his parents. But— but Tommy says it and it has him feeling something he isn’t yet able to explain. He’s discovered this amazing part of himself, and to properly acknowledge and appreciate that side of him he needs to be Evan. Because healing starts with Evan.

“I- I told Eddie,” Buck starts. “About- about us. Or well, about me.”

Tommy’s silent on the phone for a moment and Buck wonders if he’s made a big mistake in calling. He should have let it go. Tommy doesn’t want him—

“Oh yeah?” Tommy says, and Buck lets out a small breath of relief.

“Um, yeah. And- and I know you said I wasn’t ready. But- but listen, I really like you, okay? And I want to go out with you. And I’m sorry I hid our relationship but-but I told Eddie now, okay? So would you- would you go out with me again?” Buck says, stumbling through his words, trying and failing not to let his desperation show.

There’s another pause and then Buck hears a light chuckle on the other end of the line. “Yeah, Evan. That would be nice.”

Tags under cut

@bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @goforkinard @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @evanbegins @diazsdimples @bucksbirthmark  @underwater-ninja-13 @aspecbuddie @lover-of-mine @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @smilingbuckley @loveyouanyway @hippolotamus @incorrect9-1-1 @buckdefencesquad @actualalligator @pirrusstuff @actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @babybibuck @exhuastedpigeon @perfectlysunny02 @buddieswhvre @loserdiaz @rogerzsteven (let me know if you want to be added/removed.. gained a few mutuals recently)

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 11th-18th 2023

🎵 It's beginning to look a lot like Christmaaaaaaas 🎵

If you guys have any Christmas buddie fics to recommend, drop them in the comments!

Also, I see your reblogs, your tags and your comments, and I really appreciate them! 😊

Complete

We might end up real close by thewolvesof1998 / @thewolvesof1998 (S2E1: Under Pressure, PWP | 2K | Explicit): “Said you wanted us to bond. We might end up real close.” When Buck said those words to Bobby just merely few hours ago, it had been a joke about how if the bomb went off they would be reduced to blood, shards of bone and flesh, mixed so together that you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart without DNA testing. He hadn’t meant it in the way that it was now true with Eddie balls deep in him as he fucks Buck against the tile wall of the firehouse showers, both of them still fully dressed, uniform pants undone and pulled only down to mid-thigh in their haste.

in the moonlight you look just like an angel in disguise by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Post-S6, Cabin fic | 35K | Mature): While Christopher is at camp, Buck and Eddie go on a vacation of their own to a small cabin in the woods... It goes as well as you'd expect.

got nothing but love for you (fall more in love every day) by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (S6, Secret Relationship | 6K | Mature): 5 times Buck and Eddie are almost caught + 1 time they are

this is a place where I feel at home by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Buck&Bobby | 1K | General): After watching parents mourn the loss of their children, the 118 go to check up on their children. And Bobby... he's staring at Buck, and Buck is confused.

something 'bout the time of the year by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Christmas, Getting Together | 20K | Teen): “We need to talk,” Eddie looks up from his phone to see Christopher standing in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed, his crutches leaning against the wall beside him. “That doesn’t sound good,” Eddie teases and locks his phone, “What about.” “Buck,” Christopher answers and walks over to the table, sitting down in front of Eddie. “He always tries to make Christmas happy for others. Aunt Maddie said they didn’t celebrate it when they were kids. We need to give him the best Christmas this year.” “You have a plan?” (Part 1 of The Diaz Christmas Experience)

want your love in every flavor by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (PWP | 2K | Explicit): After getting together and Buck promising he'll stay the rest of the month at the Diaz house, they go back to his loft to pack. But the excitement of finally being together gets them distracted. (Part 2 of The Diaz Christmas Experience)

Santa Baby by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (PWP | 2K | Explicit): Buck has to be aware of what the Santa suit did to him. And to the single mothers visiting, his mind supplies, and his fingers tighten their hold on the steering wheel. He hates when he gets jealous. Maybe it’s not jealousy, because he knows Buck would never flirt back or something. But he feels something when he sees those moms bat their eyes at him, probably imagining taking the sexy Santa home. But, he thinks, I am taking this sexy Santa home. (Part 3 of The Diaz Christmas Experience)

happy new year by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Established Buddie, NYE | 2K | Teen): It's quite magical to actually have fireworks around them as they kiss. Buck had always felt them, imagined them in a very cartoony way. Now it’s real. The ground shakes slightly underneath his feet with the loud rumbles. The lights flicker against his closed eyelids. And Eddie’s mouth is warm and loving against his. (Part 4 of The Diaz Christmas Experience)

merle said mama tried, but the prison still won by oklahoma/ @malewifediaz (Christmas, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Eddie goes to (mall) jail.

Of Love, Hospital Jitters And Christmas Lights by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Established Buddie, Hurt Chris | 6K | Teen): Eddie and Buck end up in the hospital waiting room a few days before Christmas

to wake up by your side is all I wanna do by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Living Together, FWB | 14K | Mature): After a fire destroys his loft, Buck moves in with the Diazes indefinitely. Except neither he, Christopher, nor Eddie wants him to move out. Buck gets used to being fully included in the Diaz family and the changes it brings to be with them full-time. It's a dream come true, especially when things between him and Eddie start developing in a certain way.

when your world is on fire by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Established Buddie, Hurt Eddie | 6K | Teen): The 118 responds to what should be a normal house fire only to find out that one of their own is stuck inside and believed to be dead.

it's so dark tonight (but you'll survive certainly) by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (S5E6 Speculation | 5K | Teen): Eddie struggles with the aftermath of being held hostage and Buck is there to help keep him from crashing.

when it rains in california by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (Getting Together | 4K | General): The minutes pass, and the rain falls with a scattered tapping on the ground. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen it rain like this in LA, quiet and calming, leaving a nice undisturbed haze across the city skies. He wants to bask in it, even for a moment. Well...maybe not in the rain. Buck’s more than okay watching it afar from the awning in Eddie’s backyard.

temptation comes from wants we cannot yet claim by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (Coma Eddie | 8K | Teen): He thinks back to waking up with Buck in bed beside him, of family breakfast and lazy morning ins. All of that sounds…it sounds wonderful. Perfect even. And of course, he’d want it here. Here where he can experience these things. And even for a fraction of a second let his mind wander and believe it’s real. Even when it’s not. He knows he shouldn’t- can’t. But God, Eddie wants. He wants, and he wants- “You could stay here.”

can't make it stop, give me all you got by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (PWP | 4K | Explicit): Eddie and Buck fuck in a club at Pride

men made of stone and forged in fire (even you deserved to be so softly loved) by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (First Kiss | 5K | Teen): A quiet night in and a hand running through his hair, those two simple things usually don't do much to phase the average person. But Eddie is a different story.

share this hour of make-believe by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Quarantine, Pre-S4 | 1K | General): or, quarantine finds eddie sharing a bed with a pillow-thief and sleep-talker. he minds less than he thinks.

all i want for christmas by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (Christmas, Proposal | 3K | Teen): Eddie decides to finally pop the question to Buck, but his proposal doesn’t go quite as he planned.

jadeite hearts could never cost this much by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (Getting Together | Teen): Eddie and Buck spend their first night together after their first kiss. Adorable fluff ensues.

exactly what you were looking for by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (Established Buddie, Proposal | 3K | Teen): While washing the dishes, Eddie comes to a gentle revelation.

a two inch difference by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): The height difference between Buck and Eddie is only two inches, which isn't a significant one by any means- until it is.

🔥 the last shred of truth in the lost myth of true love by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (Friends With Benefits, Post-S6E13 | 25K | Explicit): “If…If you’re really curious about if you’re still good at sex, you can practice,” he says slowly, partly from nerves and also because Eddie is still unsure if he should even say it at all. But once again, self-preservation is only a few steps too slow, and Eddie rips the bandaid off before he can rethink it all. “With me.”

Hold Me Close and Hold Me Fast by giselleslash (Post-Lightning strike | 5K | General): Buck dies and Eddie knows he needs to finally let go of the fear that’s been keeping him from telling Buck everything, because that fear is nothing compared to seeing Buck suspended in the sky far from his reach and lost to him. He’s going to bring Buck home.

Be My Baby by elless (Established Buddie | 1,6K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie enjoy some time alone. And maybe take an important step forward in their relationship.

🔥 dream sweet of me by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Dimension Travel | 16K | Teen): buck is in an accident and wakes up in a universe where the 118 don't know who he is

you were the wilderness I crossed into by rowan_wood/ @transboybuckley (Post-Coma, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): or: the 118 has a 24 hour shift, and zero calls. The firefam spends it playing games, and everyone takes the opportunity to tell Buck just how much they love him. (Part 1 of bottle episode)

blind hope's my home by rowan_wood/ @transboybuckley (Fluff & Smut | 5K | Explicit): or: the first day of Buck and Eddie's new life. They fuck, they dance, they fall even more in love. (Part 2 of bottle episode)

WIP

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 10K | 4/? | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

🔥 Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 20K | 19/? | Explicit | Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 15/? | 10K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

[ghoststyles]

Fairway to Heaven - Part 1

Hi!! I’m so excited to post my first-ever Harry fic! I’ve been on 1D Tumblr since the very beginning, logged off for 5 years and now I’m back 💀 So I’ve had a lot of ideas over the years that have just lived in my head. GOLFRRY + MUSTACHRRY are my weaknesses, so this is my twist on a golf/bev cart girl + agegap fic 🤩

I’d love to hear your thoughts. I have most of the story written, so I should be able to have a consistent posting schedule. Not sure the total # of parts quite yet. I’m also happy to write additional blurbs if y’all like Harry and Briar as much as I do 🥹🐥🦊 

Here is a mood board I put together. Feel free to picture Briar however you please. The mood board is just to set the vibez!

Without further ado...Enjoy!

~

Word count: 4.5K

Contains mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Agegaps, cursing.

Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

~

By the time she gets to her designated cart, she’s already fifteen minutes late; but her iced coffee is the perfect color, and her hair didn’t give her too much trouble this morning. She smiles to herself, a win is a win.

Briar Barlowe quickly dumps a bucket of ice in her cart’s side cooler as the bar back begins filling the bin with the usual suspects: Bud Light, Michelob Ultra, Fireball, Tito’s, Casamigos, Ginger ale, and, of course, grape juice. She makes sure to keep her lavender cups stocked and plenty of fun straws to make everything more fun. She even decorates her tip jars to say funny jokes.

Since starting at Wynnewood Country Club, Briar has gained a bit of notoriety among the players as the girl with a bright smile and a heavy pour. This job is exactly what she needs to fill the gap between graduating college and beginning her business degree in the fall. Good money, stress-free responsibilities, and time spent in the sunshine.

Her Uncle, Patrick Barlowe, is the golf pro at Wynnewood; a local legend who was just shy of making the PGA Tour himself. He spends his days teaching lessons, running the pro shop and serving on the Board of Directors for the club. If you’re in with Patrick, you’re in with everyone.

When he heard her worries of not finding a summer job after graduation, it was a no brainer to offer her a position as a beverage cart girl. They both gaze out over the course from a table under the gazebo on the top deck of club’s restaurant.

“That job sounds a little sexist, Uncle Patrick,” Briar sneers. All she can picture is driving around in a little dress and a visor like Malibu Barbie, answering the male members’ every beck and call.

The club is gorgeous; first built in 1914, and the architecture reflects it. It has two golf courses, 4 tennis courts, a pool, and deluxe spa. The member fees skyrocket each year, upping the amenities and overall snootiness of the members.

“The money is good and the members are pretty harmless. From the way you’ve swindled me into throwing teddy bear tea parties, I think you’ll do just fine on the sales aspect.”

“Fine. When do I start?”

Patrick leans back in his seat, “I’ll call Dominic in the morning.”

With that, they finish their drinks and appetizers just as the sun sets.

Walking out to her car, she sees a black Range Rover pull under the carport. The boys at the valet stand are already bickering over who gets to drive this one.

Based on the surrounding town, the level of pretentiousness at the club never surprises Briar. The yearly member fee for the club can cover 2 years’ worth of her business school tuition alone. She shakes her head and jumps into her hand-me down Jeep to head back to her apartment, paying no mind to the man entering the front door of the club.

~

Her shift this morning started out in the frigid cold, forcing her to change outfits later in the day as the sun came out. She’s sporting her black athletic skort and a racerback tank top. She opts to leave her hair down and sport her black and white Nike trailblazers to keep the look casual.

With a few weeks’ worth of shifts under her belt, she’s learned the ways of the club and fallen into a good rhythm. On any given weekend day, she has to head to the clubhouse to restock twice before 12PM. Today is not one of those days.

As temperature warms up, the course begins to fill up. In the last hour of her shift, she’s left with only a few beers and a few shots worth of Tito’s. Her tip jar is a little emptier than usual, but the pun on her sign got a few chuckles. She sets up shop on the 17th hole and snaps a few photos of the sunset.

“I shot one under today. One under a tree, one under a bush, and one under the water.”

Briar jumps at the voice behind her. Is that an Irish accent? She leans to peer over the side of her cart. She sees a man, older than her, donning a light blue polo with dark blue pants and a white hat, reading the joke on her jar.

“Clever, isn’t it?” She smiles kindly at him.

“Hilarious. It’s like ya been watching my game today,” he laughs. He moves closer to where she’s standing.

“Can I get you anything? I’ll be honest, I’m mostly wiped out.”

He peers down at the contents of the cooler. “I’ll take that last Mich Ultra. Do you have any Casamigos left? My mate is a little picky.”

“No Casamigos,” she says with a slight frown. “I’ll try to keep my drinking to a minimum next time and save you some.”

He lets out a loud laugh and squeezes his eyes shut. “Alright, just this then. He’ll have to deal with it.”

“I can offer you some Peanut M&M’s for your troubles,” she says, pulling out her iPad to ring in the order. “Do you have an account with the club, or do you want to pay cash?”

“The account is under Niall Horan,” he says, putting a $20 bill in the jar. “Thanks for the M&M’s, darlin’.”

“I’m Briar. It was nice meeting you, Niall. Thank you!” She beams. He smiles and starts heading back to the path toward the clubhouse.

~

After cleaning her cart and counting her money, Briar finishes the day drinking a mojito at the bar, while Cam, her new friend at the club, is working her bar shift.

“How was it out there today, babe?” Cam asks.

“Slow at first, but it definitely picked up. I couldn’t even head back for a restock. Luckily, the members I got at the very end weren’t picky.”

“Oh! Did you see Niall?” she asks as she puts glassware in the dishwasher.

“Yeah,” Briar furrows her brows. “How did you know?”

“I used to serve him on the front course all the time. Now that I’m too old and wretched to work out on the course, he’ll visit me in here sometimes. He mentioned playing the back course with a friend today.”

Briar is always assigned to the back course. There are only minor differences in difficulty, but she finds the back course to be a little more calm and serious. They’re also a little more generous with their tips. She’s not sure if her assignment has something to do with her uncle’s knowledge of the club’s inner workings.

“He is really nice, and generous. I didn’t get to meet the friend, though. Did you?”

“Yes, he was a little more reserved. But Niall is a riot, so he makes anyone look calm. I didn’t catch his name.”

Briar hums and stirs her mojito around as she stifles a yawn. “Well, I’ve been here since 7:30 this morning, so I am ready to goooo,” she drags out her last word. She waves bye to Cam and begins the trek to the employee parking lot.

As she’s walking, she gazes up to the upper deck of the restaurant where she can just barely make out Niall standing by the railing. He’s talking animatedly and waving his beer bottle around.

A bit off to the right, peering down at her, is a tall, striking man with dark features wearing a white button down and a sport coat. The top two buttons are undone just enough to see his collarbones.

The club has a strict dress code for the restaurant. Briar often does a double take when she sees members out of their golf clothes. She wonders if he’s even allowed to show that much skin.

Shrugging it off, she continues toward her car, but not without looking back at the man. He’s still looking at her, curiously, taking a sip of his drink and turning away not long after she looks up.

She can’t help but get this strange feeling, almost as if the hairs on the back of her neck are standing straight up.

~

As the summer starts to heat up, so do her shifts at the course. By the end of them, Briar’s hair is sticking out sideways and her make up is smeared down her face. She bought a miniature fan that clips right to the visor of her cart to keep her cool throughout the day.

It’s just past 8:30 in the morning on Tuesday when she hears a familiar voice on the 8th hole. She squints and sees Niall, along with the dark haired man from the other night. There are a few guys she doesn’t recognize standing with them.

She maneuvers her cart through the winding path, closer to where the men are.

“There’s the beer angel!” Niall shouts. She smiles and shakes her head. He comes jogging over. “I hope you’re fully stocked this morning.”

“Yep, I am! I even have a few breakfast sandwiches, if you’re interested.”

His eyes light up as she pulls out a bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel from the warming drawer. Chef Lambo, the executive chef of the club, made them especially for Briar’s customers.

“Yesss. I’ll take one of those, a Mich Ultra, two Transfusions, and — H! What do you want?” He yells, partially turning to face his friend in the distance.

She faintly hears, “Casamigos!”

“And a Casamigos on the rocks, with a lime,” he finishes. It takes her only a few minutes to make the cocktails.

“Do you want these on your account?” Briar asks Niall.

He takes a huge bite of the bagel and mumbles, “No, you can put it all on my mate’s. Last name is Styles.”

Styles, or, “H” as Niall called him. The mystery man’s Last name is Styles. And, he’s a member here.

“Got it. Well, good luck today.”

“Thanks, we’ll need it. We’re trying to close a work deal with the two guys we’re playing with. Hey, don’t be afraid to swing by us multiple times. We can use all the schmoozing we can get,” he smiles.

“I think I can do that. Let me know if you need help, I’m told I’m very persuasive,” she smiles as she takes the emergency brake off of her cart. He throws another $20 in her jar and then waves, nearly dropping all of the items in his hands.

Niall returns to his group, handing out their drinks. Briar continues to watch before pulling away. H steps out from behind Niall, slightly lifting his cup — his lavender cup — towards her, as a thank you. His facial expression is stoic, watching her carefully.

She smiles to herself and drives off. The rest of the shift goes by in a blur. She swings by Niall and H’s group a few times. Each time, Niall greets her to grab more drinks and snacks.

Is that on purpose? If the drinks are on H’s account, why isn’t he coming over? She’d like to get a closer look at him. She chews on the inside of her lip and continues on with her closing duties. She loves the morning shift; in early, out early.

~

After parking her cart in the garage, she can see her uncle in the pro shop, glasses on the tip of his nose, peering down at something. She lightly knocks on the door and pushes it open.

“Hey, Briar bear,” he says, looking up at her. “How was your day?”

Briar sighs at her childhood nickname, plopping down on the couch by the practice putting green. Members can test out clubs before purchasing them in the pro shop, making it an optimal spot to hang out and mess around with all of the clubs.

“It was good, I just have to get used to waking up this early again. And I already know you’re going to say, ‘welcome to the real world, kid’, so just stop there,” she says sassily.

Patrick chuckles and focuses back on with his paperwork. They’re quiet for a few moments.

“What’re working on, anyway?” she asks, craning her neck to see what he’s doing.

“Just some budget sheets, and making a list of members who haven’t had a lesson from their amazing in-house golf pro,” he says, punching numbers into his phone calculator.

“They get a free lesson from you?”

“Yes, when they join. But now, to keep up member retention, we’re going to offer sessions to members who have been here for 5 years or more,” he scratches his temple. “Most of ‘em don’t need it, but I feel they always leave with a new drill to practice and some sage advice from yours truly.”

“That’s cool,” she replies absently.

“Wanna help?” Patrick asks her. She nods silently and takes a seat beside him. She sees a list of last names, first initial and  an “X” next to their name if they’ve taken a lesson.

She notices an X next to “Horan, N.” but not “Styles, H”. Interesting.

Briar continues to audit the two lists, until she hears her uncle clear his throat.

“Hey, are you going to hang here for a bit? I need to run back into the main clubhouse for a few minutes.”

Patrick runs the pro shop solo during the day, until a high school or college kid can come in in the afternoon.

“Yeah, I’ll hang here. What do I do if someone needs something?”

“Then you can entertain them with your dazzling personality until I get back,” he teases, sticking his tongue out. “Alright, I’ll be back.”

“‘kay,” she says, walking back to her original spot on the sofa, laying her head back on the edge.

Her eyes are shut, only for a minute, until a brilliant idea pops in her head. She rises off the sofa and saunters over to the computer her uncle was just working on.

The employee portal is logged in under Patrick’s account. Briar doesn’t know much about it, aside from using it to clock in and clock out. It’s still on the member screen, an area she’s 100% sure she doesn’t have access to.

She peruses the site until she finds a “Member Look-Up” tab. Briar’s intrusive thoughts win.

She slowly punches in S-T-Y-L-E-S and waits for the results to populate. 2 results found.

She clicks on the first profile. An account pulls up for a Paul Styles, and a photo of a white-haired man pops up.

Well, that’s certainly not him, Briar thinks to herself. She exits out and clicks on the next account. No profile photo opens, but the name is at the top. She bites her thumbnail in anticipation of what she’ll see.

Harry Styles. H. Niall’s mysterious friend. The tequila lover.

She starts to scroll down the page. The profile is more bare than the other man’s, but she can see the basic things about him. He’s 41, joined the club 8 years ago. He lives in another pretentious town only a few miles away.

Then, she sees a “Member Activity” tab. Out of curiosity, she clicks on it. Her eyes widen, seeing every transaction he’s ever made on his account. His “dues” each year. Holy shit.

His purchases seem pretty standard for members of Wynnewood. Mostly rounds of Casamigos on the rocks (shocking) and dinners ranging from $100-$400, with a few bills over $1,000.

He joined 8 years ago, but his transactions have only begun to pick up in the last month or so. Before, his visits were sporadic at best.

Briar can’t even fathom having that sort of money to throw away. She started working at age 14 and never stopped. The only reason she gets a taste of country club life is because of her uncle.

She closes out the portal, not wanting to risk Patrick walking in while she’s snooping around. She returns to her spot on the sofa and begins playing 1010! on her phone.

She exhales and tosses her phone to the side. As she sits up, Patrick reenters the pro shop.

“Thanks, Bri. Heading home soon?”

“Yeah, I gotta get back home for Gus,” she smiles, thinking about her dog. Her baby.

“Alright, I’ll catch you later. Say hello to my buddy for me. And give him a butt scratch — Tell him it’s from Uncle Patty.”

“Will do. See ya.”

~

When she’s showered and comfy at home, with Gus, her Bernese Mountain Dog, snuggled at her side, she finally feels relaxed. 

She’s worked nearly every day since she started. But, those are the sacrifices of a summer job.

She turns on Selling Sunset on Netflix to drown out the silence of her apartment. Already bored of this season, she pulls out her phone.

One last round of stalking, then she’ll let it go. She opens Instagram and begins typing in Harry’s name in the search bar. Nothing. Hm.

She tries Niall, immediately getting a hit. She clicks on his account to find it public, full of funny and happy photos. He’s clearly from Ireland, but has lived in the United States for some time. She wonders if he went to school here, or if he just got a job here.

She scrolls down to a group photo — on the golf course, of course — of Niall, Harry, and a few other guys. They look a lot younger here. She can see the photo is from 7 years ago. Harry’s stoic face is a stark contrast to Niall’s infectious smile. She clicks on the photo to see if Harry’s profile is tagged. Nothing.

Defeated, she moves onto LinkedIn. She tries Harry’s name again. Within 10 seconds of the search engine results popping up on the screen, her eyes land on exactly what she’s looking for. He has a profile. Her heart starts beating a little faster.

Really, Briar? All this for a guy you’ve barely caught a glimpse of? She clicks on the profile and sees the most gorgeous man at the top. He looked good from afar, but this is totally different.

Sticking out to her is his chiseled jaw, pouty lips, and beautiful (green?) eyes. His hair is longer in this photo than what she’s seen him with the past 2 times at the club, but she figures this page is old.

She scrolls down to the employment history. He works for a hedge fund. No wonder he has that kind of cash laying around. He’s been at the same company for a number of years, and received his bachelor’s degree from Georgetown and his MBA from the University of Pennsylvania. Smart dude. 

She notes his MBA graduation year is 2006. She laughs, knowing she was probably still playing on a playground that year. 

She exits out of the page, proud of her findings. She decides to text Cam about Niall’s friend.

B: Hey! So I totally stalked Niall online. His friend’s name is Harry! 😆

C: So funny, how’d u do it? 😂

B: Instagram for Niall, and earlier, I used Wynnewood’s portal to look up Harry. I just went on his LinkedIn, too. Now, I know all about his work and schooling, lol.

C: Your account is private, right? 😳

C: It notifies people if you’ve looked at their profile unless you’re private…

B: What?! I didn’t know that…WTF do I do?

Briar’s stomach drops. He’s probably already gotten the notification by now. She’s mortified. She logs back on to LinkedIn and deactivates her account. Reddit says those are her best chances of counteracting the notification.

She decides to go to bed, but ends up tossing and turning until 3 AM, knowing her alarm is set for 6:30. She stares at the ceiling, pleading for Harry not to show up at the club tomorrow.

~

The morning comes around, and after mustering enough courage to get up and make herself presentable, she rolls into work, ready to jump on her cart and be lazy. The universe (or Uncle Patrick, probably!) has a different plan.

Since it’s a holiday weekend, Briar is working inside for a change. She feels a little out of her element. She’s worked in restaurants in the past, but it’s always a little stressful when you have know idea where anything is, or how to use the register.

Taking a moment to survey the large banquet room, she doesn’t see Niall or Harry. She begins to relax. Until, 30 minutes later, she sees both of them enter and begin talking to the hostess.

Please don’t go to my section, she thinks. She watches the girl gathers 4 menus and turns to lead the men further into the room. Briar’s worry grows more with each step the hostess takes toward her section. Fuck.

She seats them down at a 4 person table right in the middle of Briar’s section, assuming the two men from yesterday will be joining them.

She takes a few deep breaths before grabbing a water jug and two stemmed water glasses. She casually approaches the table, lightly placing the water glasses down and filling them.

Niall looks up briefly with a smile before exclaiming, “There she is! I requested you to be our server after I saw you at the coffee machine over there.”

Briar smiles before turning her attention to Harry, who hasn’t glanced up from his menu. She looks back at Niall.

“Awesome! This is going to be great,” she lies through her teeth.

While this exchange is happening, she can feel Cam’s eyes burning through the back of her head. Cam is the service bartender of the day, so she has time to people watch and laugh at Briar’s bad luck.

“Are we waiting for any more guests to join us?” Briar asks.

Niall clears his throat and says, “Yes, those two blokes from yesterday. Harry here is going to close the deal with them today.”

Harry glances up at her with a shy smile. She reciprocates, unsure if he’s aware of her cyberstalking from last night.

“Wow, well, I’ll make sure my service is extra good, then. Can I throw in some drinks while you wait?”

“I’ll have an Old Fashioned. Harry?” Niall turns to his friend.

“Casamigos on the rocks for me, please. With a lime. Thank you.”

“You got it,” she says with a tight-lipped smile. Of course that’s the very first thing he ever says to her. And he’s BRITISH?

Cam laughs as the ticket prints at the bar.

“Oh, shut up,” Briar grumbles.

~

The other men finally arrive, and the meal goes by at a snail’s pace. When the group is finally ready to order, Briar is already mentally checked out. Briar goes to take Harry’s order.

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the chicken, please,” he says simply.

“And how would you like that cooked?” Briar asks, furiously scribbling on her note pad.

Harry’s face contorts to a perplexed look, almost as if he was about to laugh.

“Um…cooked…all the way through?” He stifles a chuckle.

Niall bursts out laughing, cluing Briar in. She realizes the others ordered porterhouse steaks, so, out of habit, she asked how they’d like them prepared.

Her eyes go wide, “Right, well, I’ll go put these in. Thanks!” She shuffles away at lightning speed.

Harry stares at her from across the room, smirking when they make eye contact. She wants to bury her head in the sand trap on the golf course.

When the meal is done, the men shake hands, and Niall and Harry look relieved. They ask for another round of drinks for the two of them and the check. Niall heads toward the restroom while Harry pays. She tries to bolt as soon as the check is dropped, but she hears Harry clear his throat.

She turns to face him.

“We’re about to go play a quick round of 9-holes to celebrate. Are you our beer angel today, or are you stuck in here?” Harry says, as he opens his wallet.

Briar feels her heart begin to race. She’s sure her face is beet red. The word angel rolls off his tongue so easily.

“Um, no, I’m um, stuck in here for the rest of the day. I’ll be back on Sunday, though,” she says quietly.

“Shame, I was starting to think you were bringing me all of my luck. I’ve been crushing these guys in our last few rounds,” he smiles, swirling the remnants of his drink around.

She bites the inside of her lip, unsure if she should still be holding eye contact. He hands her the checkbook, full of cash. She smiles, unable to speak.

“Oh, and Briar— I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked,” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile.

That’s the moment Niall returns to the table, and presumably the only reason she doesn’t drop to the floor in fetal position.

“Thanks, Briar. Lunch was great. We’ll see you next time,” Niall says sweetly.

“Thanks!” she squeaks, scurrying to the back, where she nearly mows down Cam.

“Woah! What’re you doing?” Cam squeals.

“He KNOWS!” Briar wails.

“Who? Who knows — OH!” Cam shrieks. “What did he say to you?”

“He said, ‘Briar, I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked.’”

Cam’s mouth drops open. “Did he say it with his sexy accent and sultry voice?”

“Shut up!”

“Fine. Well, what did he tip you?” she asks, reaching for the book in Briar’s hand.

She opens it, finding enough cash to cover the $450 tab, and an extra $300 as a tip.

“Damn! Who has that much cash at one time?” Cam laughs.

Briar flips to the back of the book, only to find a note on a small piece of paper:

I’m an Aquarius, in case you were wondering. : - )

She stares blankly at the note. When did he have time to do this? Was he going to slip this note to her regardless? A million thoughts run through her head, until she hears Cam.

“What a creepy-ass old person smiley face,” she says, shaking her head.

Briar thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

~

Finally, her shift ends and she can escape the club, just for a day. As she heads towards the women’s locker room, she’s rummaging through her bag, attempting to fish out her street clothes so she can change as quickly as possible.

As she stalks closer to the locker room, she collides head-first into a firm, wet object. She feels strong hands grasp her hips to steady her.

“What the fuck?” she says, moving the hair out of her eyes, only to be met with a strong tattooed torso, partially covered by towel tied loosely around the person’s waist.

Her next words die in her throat as she looks up.

Harry.

Harry, who just left the steam room.

He smirks down at her, gently letting go of her waist. Suddenly, she feels hot, as if she were just in there with him. Briar’s fight or flight kicked-in, causing her to spin on her heels and flee in the opposite direction. 

He senses she’d run, so he gently grabs her wrist, locking her in place. She peers up at him like a deer in headlights. His other hand is firmly planted on his hip to hold up his towel, in fear of giving the whole club a show.

He tilts her chin up so she’s making direct eye contact. Her stomach drops, sending a wave of nausea through her body. She studies his face; long eye lashes, slight stubble and two dimples that form as he smirks down at her softly.

“I told you, I’m not shy.”

He releases her chin and saunters back to the mens’ locker room.

[softspiderling]

baby, you down? | j.h.s.

summary: “-insane. The throttle sits extremely well in my-hey, are you even listening?” “Yeah, ‘course. The adverse yaw was so cool and the empennage knocked the wind out of you, totally.” Bradley scoffed. “You’re a little shit, toots. You know you could learn a thing or two if you would actually listen to what I’m saying. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up on a date with a naval aviator and you could impress him with your knowledge.” “Never. Having one as a best friend is more than enough.”

or, your best friend is a naval aviator, but apparently so is the guy you've been dating? Yeah, funny how life works.

OR, 5 times Bradley was blissfully unaware of who you're dating and the 1 time he wasn't

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x reader , besties!bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: contains talk about sex, but no actual smut, minors DNI

word count: 6,4k

author's note: whoop whoop! the fic you all have been waiting for! where all things will be revealed. hope you enjoy!! no beta, we die like goose. PS: this fic is part of the wingman's best friend universe, but can be read as a stand-alone!

-5

brad brad: i’m outside, u coming?

“See you guys tomorrow!” you called to your team, waving into the round before you headed outside of the office, where Bradley’s bronco was standing by the sidewalk, engine still running. He was diddling on his phone when you climbed into the passenger seat. 

“You know I’m still in touch with my old colleagues from the SDPD, I could have you arrested for being on your phone with the engine still running,” you commented mildly and Bradley put his phone away, kissing you on the cheek, his mustache tickling your face. 

“Nah, you wouldn’t. I am your favorite law abiding citizen.”

“Shut up. I can’t believe the Navy still lets you keep that god awful mustache,” you muttered, rubbing your cheek and Bradley only laughed. While he drove to the restaurant where you tended to get lunch, you packed your badge and gun into your purse, not wanting to flash your credentials around when you weren’t on the clock. Especially not around Bradley. Fishing out your phone, you checked the messages you had missed at work.

jake: it does look great. I’ll look into it and book a table.

jake: you got any plans tonight?

jake: thinking of you

Grinning you tapped out a message, catching Bradley glancing over out of the corner of your eyes. God, he was so nosy.

“Eyes on the street, Brad.”

Bradley rolled his eyes. “You know I fly a million dollar plane for work, right? I can drive my bronco down the street and look at your phone. Who you texting?”

“Just a guy I’ve been seeing,” you replied, sending the text before putting your phone away, as the car pulled to a stop at a traffic light. Bradley raised an eyebrow at you over his aviators, clearly not satisfied with the answer.

“I didn’t know that you were seeing someone.”

Shrugging with your shoulders, you pursed your lips. “Well, now you do.”

“Anyone I know?” he asked, returning his eyes to the street when the traffic light turned green, you knew however, that his attention was still fully on you. 

“Nah. I met him at a bar while I was out for dinner a few weeks ago,” you gave him a look, squinting your eyes while you thought hard. “Honestly, I am not sure if you’d get along. You’re either gonna love him or hate him.”

“... That’s not reassuring. At all.”

Which, fair. 

Considering you put actual bad guys away as a living, you had a tendency to put other, arguably not as bad, but still bad, people in your bed. One of your exes gave you an STD, one literally stole your thesis and received a scholarship for it, and another one resetted your 5 star animal crossing island that you’ve lovingly curated for a year. 

Yeah, you weren’t proud of your dating history. 

But - and this was going to sound cheesy as hell - Jake was different. He never really put up a nice guy act, actually he kind of was a cocky asshole. Beneath all those layers you’ve peeled back, he was surprisingly soft. Of course he was hot as hell, but there was also something behind his cockiness. 

“It’s going to be fine, don’t worry. How was your day?”

Bradley launched into a story of how someone from his squadron, Hangman, pulled an insane move on a hop, that even Maverick was shocked. You barely understood a word he was saying, Bradley tended to get a little overexcited when he started talking about flying and would use very specific terms like camber and whatever the fuck aileron was It didn’t help that you didn’t know a single person he was talking about, except for the infamous Maverick, of course. Usually, Bradley was deployed somewhere far away and the friends he made during that time were strangers to you. 

“-insane. The throttle sits extremely well in my-hey, are you even listening?” 

“Yeah, ‘course. The adverse yaw was so cool and the empennage knocked the wind out of you, totally.”

Bradley scoffed. “You’re a little shit, toots. You know you could learn a thing or two if you would actually listen to what I’m saying. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up on a date with a naval aviator and you could impress him with your knowledge.”

“Never. Having one as a best friend is more than enough.”

-4

Yawning, you unlocked the door to your apartment. You really wanted to spend the night at Jake’s but going to work from his place in the morning was just going to be a pain. You hadn’t brought a change of clothes and you were definitely not showing up at work with clothes from the day before. 

Shutting the door behind you, you kicked your shoes off and headed to the living room. It was dark, but the hairs on your neck rose immediately as you stepped over the threshold. The streetlights barely illuminated your room, but you could make out a shadow of a man by your couch. You weren’t sure if you’d make it to your safe in time, but you had to try. Throwing your purse at his head, you dove to your cabinet, only pausing when the grunt of pain sounded all too familiar to you.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Bradley!?” you yelled, standing up to switch the light on, just to see your stupid best friend sit on the couch, holding his nose, doubled over in pain.

“Jesus, sorry! I forgot to text you I was coming over,” Bradley whined, his voice nasal. “I think you broke my nose.”

“How many times have I told you to not pull these damn stunts anymore? I could have shot you in the face,” you snapped, grabbing some water from the kitchen and a pack of ice, wrapping it in a kitchen towel. 

When you used to be younger, Bradley always snuck up on you, trying to scare you or make you jump. And he was good at it, too. That was why he kept doing it. You joked that his jump-scares were the reason why you always were so aware of your surroundings when you were out in the field. 

Habits were hard to break. 

With a scowl, you picked his hand off his face, gently wiping the blood from his nose before pressing the ice pack on it, glowering as he winced. 

“What were you even doing sitting here in the dark?”

“It was still light out when I arrived. How was I supposed to know that you’d take so long to get home?”

“How about turning the lights on like a fucking normal human being?” you sneered. Bradley’s shoulder slumped, a crease in his forehead and you sighed, your voice softening. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Getting better,” he muttered, gingerly placing his hand on the ice pack so you could let go. Bradley squinted his eyes at you. “Where were you?”

“Out.”

“With whom?”

“Did we switch jobs? What’s with all the questions?”

“Just curious, you’ve been out a lot lately.”

“You know I am seeing someone, since when are you so interested in my love life?”

“Love life?”

Cursing under your breath, snapping the water bottle open to take a sip. Bradley was frowning at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I am listening.”

With an eye roll, you leaned back on the couch. “He’s… Good. I really like him. He’s so charming, but not like in a gross way, you know? He’s actually charming. It’s kind of annoying. But he’s also like, really fucking hot? He’s not like anyone I’ve ever dated before. Thank fucking god. I kind of want to see him every day, which is so dumb. I guess he makes me really happy.”

“Bleurgh. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Bradley pulled a face at you and you scoffed.

“What are you, 12?” 

“I’m literally older than you. Respect your elders.”

“Respect is a two way street, old man.”

Bradley glared at you, putting his ice pack on the coffee table. He carefully ran his finger along the ridge of his nose. “Well, are you in love with him?” 

You tutted at his insistence, shrugging dumbly with your shoulders. Love was a big word. It wasn’t easy to find, especially with your and Bradle’s line of work. Most people Bradley dated found his job exciting at first, until they eventually got upset with all his time away and the odd working hours. It was hard enough being his friend, you couldn’t imagine how hard it was dating a naval aviator.

But then again, your job wasn’t a cake walk either. 

Suddenly, you regretted doing the “secret job” thing with Jake. Honestly, you hadn’t expected feeling about him the way you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it. What if telling him about your job now would scare him off? 

“Toots, you still with me?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, smiling crookedly at Bradley. “I don’t know. I guess I could see myself falling in love with him? He’s… Kind of perfect, actually. He made me come with his tongue.”

Bradley’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he stared at you, wincing in pain as his nose twitched involuntarily. “Oh shit. You gotta lock that man down right now. A summer wedding sounds nice. Obviously, I’ll be your best man.” 

“Maid of honor, you mean.”

“That, too.”

“God, you’re stupid. All of that missing oxygen in your brain really is starting to show.”

“You literally just whacked your purse in my face, I’m pretty sure I have brain-damage.”

“Yeah, self-inflicted brain damage.”

“So when do I get to meet the guy?” Bradley asked and he really was not letting go of that topic, was he?

“Oh man, hell if I know. Introducing you to him kind of makes things serious.”

“Didn’t you just say that you could fall in love with him? Sounds pretty serious to me.”

“Stop making sense,” you groaned, flopping on your back, staring at the ceiling. “It’s just perfect right now the way it is, you know? I don’t want to fuck it up by rushing into things.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes perfect sense,” Bradley snorted. “Just going wherever it takes you instead of talking about the direction of your relationship. Definitely not a recipe for disaster.”

“Like you’re the one to give relationship advice. I can still remember the Jules fiasco.”

“Please don’t remind me. I was young and stupid.”

Snorting, you stretched your arms back. “I’m headed to bed. Got an early morning. You wanna sleep here?” 

��Definitely staying, I need your coffee in the morning, the one on base sucks ass.”

“You know you could just get yourself a good espresso machine right?” You pointed out, narrowing your eyes at him. “You don’t have to drink the one on base, nor do you have to mooch mine.”

“Nah, it tastes better when I bum it off of you. You owe me anyway.”

“What do I owe you for?”

Bradley pouted, pointing at his face. “You destroyed my money maker.”

“I swear to god, Bradley.”

-3

The next morning Bradley still wasn’t awake by the time your alarm rang. Which wasn’t unusual, despite his stupid callsign, you always had to kick him out of bed when you used to live together. So you headed to the kitchen to make yourself an espresso and downing it, before you went to grab a shower. Your muscles relaxed, as you were still surprisingly sore after getting back from Jake’s, and after a good five minutes, you stepped out, wrapping a towel around your body, just as your phone started ringing. 

Jake’s name flashed over the screen and you sighed with a fond smile, leaning your phone against the mirror before picking up. You picked up your toothbrush as the video chat loaded up, squirting some toothpaste on. 

“Miss me already?” you teased, barely recognizing anything as his phone was shaking wildly, though you could hear Jake’s laughter through the speakers.

“And what if I was?”

There was loud rustling coming from his side, before the phone finally stood still, the camera focusing on a very shirtless and very sweaty Jake. You nearly choked on your toothpaste. 

“Jesus, give a girl a warning,” you wheezed, spitting out the toothpaste, your toothbrush clattering against the sink as you picked up your phone. You were staring, shamelessly, but Jake clearly didn’t mind as he only smirked at you. 

“I am not the one picking up a phone call while I was only in a towel,” he pointed out. “I could’ve been in public.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

You picked up your face cream as Jake made his breakfast, apparently, probably some disgusting weetabix protein, judging by the sounds of the box. 

“You trying to make me regret going home last night?” 

“Is it working?” Jake chuckled, glancing at the camera. “Just came home from a run and had some time on my hands, figured I’d call you.”

“You’re sweet. And I wish I could’ve stayed last night, but it was a good thing I didn’t. My best friend was sitting in my apartment like a creeper and waiting for me to come home. I thought I was fifteen again, god, he had so many questions.”

Jake leaned on the counter, looking at you. “Brad, right?”

“Right. He’s kind of annoying, actually. Pestered me about meeting you and everything,” you said, purposefully lightly, your eyes flickering to the camera. 

“Yeah? Gonna show me his gun collection and threaten me not to hurt a hair on your body?” 

You snorted. If only he knew.

“No, he’s just nosy as fuck.”

“You know, I’d like to meet him. He sounds like a character,” Jake admitted and you smiled, looking up. 

“You do?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay,” you said, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling so hard. You jerked in surprise when there were loud bangs against the bathroom door. 

“Jesus, B! I’m busy!”

“Is the espresso machine on?” Bradley asked, his voice muffled through the door. 

“Yes, you dipshit. Don’t break it!” 

“I’ll get you another one if I do.”

His steps retreated and you turned back to your phone, Jake was rising an eyebrow at you through the phone. 

“He stayed the night?”

“Yeah, he keeps forgetting we don’t actually live together anymore,” you sighed, pinching your nose and Jake rumbled out a laugh. 

“Should I be jealous?” he asked with a teasing tone, but it was obvious he was joking. People usually got miffed when they found out how close you and Bradley actually were, but Jake didn’t sound like he cared. Which was a relief. You had to break things off far too many times because some people started being outright hostile towards Bradley and you couldn’t have that. You were glad that you didn’t have to break things off with Jake. 

“God, no. I promise, there’s nothing to be jealous about,” you told him with a honest smile, cringing when you heard a crash from the kitchen, fearing for your espresso machine. 

“You should go. I have to jump in the shower anyway before I head into work,” Jake told you and you bit your lip, nodding. 

“Okay. I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jake uttered, winking at you. “Have a good day, sweets.”

“Bye Jake.”

The video chat closed and you rested your phone against your chest, before slipping into your robe, padding into the kitchen, fearing the worst. Bradley was squinting at the coffee grinder, holding the portafilter in his hand. 

“What did you break?” you asked, toweling your wet hair and Bradley frowned at you.

“Nothing. I dropped the milk can. I was trying to froth up the milk but I didn’t know how because you barely let me touch this thing.”

“For a good reason!” you huffed, pouring some milk into the can and shoving it under the steamer, pressing the button. As the steamer got to work, blubbering on, you peeled Bradley’s finger from the portafilter to fill with coffee grounds. 

“Were you talking to him?” Bradley then asked, his voice high, as if you were back on the playground, whispering about your crushes. 

“Yeah, before you rudely interrupted me.”

“You’re so in love,” Bradley needled and you stomped on his bare foot, making him yelp. 

“I’m literally holding a can of hot milk, don’t annoy me,” you threatened him, fixing the portafilter on the machine. “You want to drink your coffee here or take it to work?” 

Bradley glanced at the clock, his eyes widening. 

“Oh shit. Can you make it to go please? I still need to brush my teeth.”

With a sigh, you ushered him out of the kitchen, so you could finish up his coffee. Grabbing one of the portable coffee mugs, you let the espresso drip in there before topping it off with milk foam, twisting the lid on. Sometimes you really forgot that Bradley was a highly skilled naval aviator with the way he was behaving. Said naval aviator skeeted back into the kitchen, where you pressed his coffee into his hand. Taking a sip, he sighed in content and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hey toots, you promise you’ll still make me coffee when you move in with tongue guy?”

“Get the fuck out of here, Bradley.”

Bradley cackled as he walked to your front door, slipping into his shoes. 

“Hey, don’t die at work!”

“You too!” he called, before the door fell shut behind him. 

“Like a fucking child,” you muttered to yourself, turning back to your espresso machine to make your second cup of coffee.

-2

Narrowing your eyes at the refrigerated section, you were looking for the brand of mozzarella you always got. Jake had decided to cook dinner for you, but conveniently forgot to go to the grocery store, so there you were, picking up groceries. And while you were already there, you figured you’d pick up some things too. Which would’ve been an easy feat if he had taken you to your usual spot. So now you were scanning the racks for the cheeks, rubbing your arm absently, the cold air hitting your bare skin like on a Winter night.

Suddenly, you felt something cover your skin, glancing to the side as Jake gently draped his jacket over your shoulder. 

“Hey, where’d you get this?”

“Just grabbed it from the car, you looked like you needed it,” Jake hummed, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. You flushed, squeezing his hand. This man. 

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to. You find what you were looking for?”

You shook your head, a bit petulantly and Jake bit back a laugh. “You need help?”

“No. I’m fine. I can find cheese on my own. You go ahead and pick up the rest of your stuff.”

Jake eyed you for a second, like he was scared you’d get lost, lingering, before he went off to find the rest of the ingredients to cook dinner. You turned your attention back to the cheese racks in front of you, your eyes lighting up when you finally spotted it. 

“Yes!” 

Grabbing two pouches, you gently tossed them into the shopping cart, pulling up your grocery list on your phone when a call from Bradley came in. 

“Hey, I just dropped by to bring you the oranges from Penny’s backyard, where are you?”

“Whole Food’s.”

“What are you doing at Whole Foods?” Bradley snickered and you frowned, deliberating whether you should hang up. “Oh, since you’re already there, can you bring me a Coconut Protein shake?”

“First of all, ew. And second of all, no. I’m not going home after.”

Bradley ahhed, as if he just realized and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Can you pick up some ice cream sandwiches then? Tongue guy has a freezer, right?”

“Can’t you go to Whole Foods yourself? You’re so lazy,” you accused him, already moving to the frozen section, pushing the shopping cart in front of you. “What kind do you want?”

You stopped in front of the ice cream section, your eyes widening at the assortment from ice cream sandwiches alone. This was definitely not your last time here. You didn’t know why, but you never really came to Whole Foods, which you definitely regretted. Their selection was insane.

“I don’t know, I had them at Hangman’s once, they were really good.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know what kind of ice cream sandwiches Hangman buys? Why don’t you ask him to get you some?” you bitched at him. “Were they square?”

“No, the normal ones.”

“Okay, I’m all done. What are you looking for?” Jake asked, dumping a whole lot of stuff into the shopping cart. You muted Bradley, not even listening as he tried to describe the ice cream sandwiches to you.

“Uh, ice cream sandwiches?”

“Oh, I always get these,” Jake said, opening the freezer doors to pick up a package of Organic Ice Cream sandwiches. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, thanks babe,” you hummed, unmuting Bradley again as Jake added the pack into the shopping cart. “We got you a pack. If it’s not the right one, then tough luck.”

“You’re mean. Thank you.  See you later, toots.”

“Bye, B.”

You pocketed your phone and Jake raised his brows at you. “You ready to go?”

“Yep,” you said, curling your hands around his arm. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

-1

“You’re still down for my birthday party, right?” Bradley asked, 

Usually the two of you would just get dinner at the weirdest restaurant you could find, when he was around, it was kind of a tradition. But this year, when Bradley got this permanent stint at Top Gun, he decided to throw a little get together with his team and you. It’d be the first time you’d meet anyone he was working with.

“Eh. Who’s coming again?”

“Just my team, probably Mav and Penny. One of the guys, Hangman; I did tell him to bring his new girl around, but he said she was busy. But I think he was lying, because he doesn’t want us to meet her.”

You paused at that, turning to suspiciously glower at Bradley. Why would anyone in the team be nervous to bring around their new girlfriend? God, you hoped that there wasn’t some weird hazing ritual for meeting new people.

“... Why?”

Bradley shrugged, taking a sip from his coke. It was nearing twelve am, but you suddenly craved In-N-Out, so you made Bradley take you to the nearest location. It was full off people inside and you didn’t really feel like getting out of the car, so you just got your food from the drive through, eating in his car in the parking lot.

“Probably because he knows that we’ll give him shit. But I think it’s nice, him being all lovey-dovey on that girl,” Bradley chuckled, eyes lingering on you. “Kind of like you, actually.”

“Oh fuck off,” you huffed, chewing on some fries. 

“Just saying. Never seen you like this before.”

And he was fucking spot on. Things have gotten kind of serious with Jake. When you had caught a particular bad case, the outcome not the one you had hoped for, Jake came over with take out, just eating with you instead of pestering you with questions. While you did like not having to talk about your job, you wished you could’ve, and it did make you think that it was time to stop with the charades. It was getting exhausting and if Jake really didn’t want to be with you because of your job, you’d rather know now than even later on. 

You just weren’t sure how to bring it up, though.

“I know, I know. Been trying to set up a play date for you, but work’s been shitty. Sorry,” you sighed and Bradley wrinkled his mustache. 

“It’s okay. The FBI's not as breezy as you thought it would be, hm?”

You gave him a look. “I knew it wasn’t going to be. SA Brenner said it would be hard work when he first approached me. I knew that going in and I don’t regret it. It’s just that some cases are like, really fucking hard.”

“... Which is why I’m even more glad that you found someone who makes you this disgustingly happy,” Bradley interjected and you rolled your eyes, grinning. 

“Guess so. After your birthday I’ll get you guys together,” you told him and he gave you a thumbs up, pressing his lips together. 

“So… You are coming, right?” He asked, realizing you never gave him an answer. You frowned, stretching your arms, careful as to not spill over your drink, purposefully drawing out your response time. 

“I don’t know… You Navy guys are kind of pretentious.”

“What?” Bradley spluttered between laughter. “You literally work for “The Bureau”,” he mocked, quoting the air. “If anyone’s co-worker’s are pretentious, it’s yours.”

“Name one.”

“Avery.”

“You like Avery,” you snickered and Bradley huffed. 

“Yeah, I do. They’re funny. Anyways, the guys are pretty cool. And the girls, too. I think you’ll hit it off with Halo and Phoenix. The team’s kind of chaotic, but you’ll like them. And you don’t have to stay long if you don’t,” he added quickly and you sighed, nodding.

“Fine. I’ll come. Do you want a cake?”

Bradley perked up at the mention of baked goods. “Yes. Please.”

0“So, you’re the infamous best friend,” Phoenix, Natasha, said, holding a plate with a slice of cake in her hand. The cake you brought seemed to be a hit with Bradley’s squadron and you were glad. You’ve been nervous all day for his birthday and getting to know his other friends, but when you found out they were Jake’s friends, too? Your nerves about skyrocketed into the air.

“Infamous?” you snorted. “Whatever Bradley told you about me was probably a lie.”

“Nah, it’s all true. You remember the first day of Top Gun, when I barely made it through the door before the instructor came? Well, this genius turned off my alarm clock after it didn’t wake me, and instead of waking me up, she went back to sleep. I only made it just in time because Toots actually used her lights and siren to get through traffic.”

“Jesus, stop telling that story, you make it sound like I’m abusing my power,” you muttered but Natasha only laughed. 

“I like you already, toots.”

You rolled your eyes at her for using Bradley’s nickname for you, though the corners of your lips were curling up. 

“Here’s your drink, sweetheart,” Jake said, pressing a red solo cup on your hand, when he came back from the cooler, because of course Bradley brought fucking red solo cups as if this was his 18th birthday. Natasha did a double take, frowning as she blinked at you, standing between Bradley and Jake. The three of you did wonder how long it was going to take for the others to figure it out.

Jake was grinning, bouncing back and forth on his heels as you laughed into your cup. 

“Wait, you’re Hangman’s girlfriend?”

That seemed to catch everyone’s attention, as the squadron crowded behind Natasha. You merely glanced at Jake, who was taking a suspiciously long gulp of his beer, his cheeks red, eyes hard on Natasha. You could tell he was embarrassed, however you barely had time to analyze him. All the attention suddenly made you a bit nervous, but this was no different than answering reporters’ questions about an on-going case right? Act confident enough, and they would eat out of your hands.

“We actually haven’t had that talk yet, but assuming we’re both on the same page, I guess so,” you stated, looping an arm around Jake’s waist. The tension bled from his shoulders and he sent you a smirk, while his eyes remained soft. 

“Wait-” “Did you-?” “This could not have been a coincidence.” 

“Okay, wait, hold up,” Javy cut in, waving his hands around. “Just so there are no misunderstandings whatsoever. You’re Rooster’s best friend?”

You nodded.

“But you’re also Jake’s girl?”

“She’s my girl, Javy,” Jake replied instead, gripping your waist tightly. 

Next to you, Bradley rolled his eyes, fake retching to the side. You elbowed him in the side, hard and he winced, glaring at you. Everyone thought you were hilarious apparently, Javy however, offered his hand. 

“Javy Machado. Coyote.”

Amused, you clasped his hand with yours, shaking it. He seemed nice enough, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. By now you knew what was coming.

“Pleasure. You’re Jake’s best friend, right?”

“That would be me. I’m assuming Rooster gave Jake the shovel talk?”

“It’s the 21st century man, I don’t need a man to protect me. Jake knows not to mess around.”

“Yeah, Coyote, get with the times!” Callie heckled him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him so violently, you were afraid he’d get whiplash. This bunch seemed extremely chaotic and you kind of loved it. 

“It was about time we met,” Callie then said, her arms still around Javy. “We’ve been dying to finally get to know the woman who turned Hangman into someone who blushes on the regular. But seeing that you’ve been managing to be friends with Rooster for so long without killing him, I am not surprised. You must have the patience of a saint.”

“Hey!” Bradley and Jake exclaimed in unison, deeply offended. 

“Aw, no you give me way too much credit. I like to think that Bradley and I balance each other’s stupid, I wouldn’t be where I am without him.” You might have dug a bit too deep into the emotional box, but it was his birthday after all. “And Jake’s been pretty amazing. He really knows how to make a girl feel special.”

“Awwww,” Billy said, leaning onto Mickey, his arm around his neck. “That’s so adorable. I might just vomit.”

“Please, I’ve heard you say cheesier things about your partner, Fritz.”

“Proof?”

In the midst of the conversation, Bradley peeled away from the group, disappearing into the back of the hangar. Gnawing on your lip, you blew out a breath. 

“I’m gonna go check on him really quick, okay?” you whispered into Jake’s ear. He nodded, his brows furrowing, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek before you took off after Bradley, trying not to get lost in the unfamiliar building. 

“Hey. You okay, B?”

Bradley grabbed himself a beer from the fridge, before shutting the door, leaning against it. 

“Fine.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you heaved yourself on the counter. Bradley has always been the kind of person to shut himself off and bottle up his emotions.  When you were younger, you had to probe and annoy him until he eventually relented and told you what was bothering him. Sometimes, you still had to do it. 

“Wanna try again?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he popped the top of the beer bottle and took a gulp, staring ahead and you pressed your lips together, your patience wearing thin. 

“Is this about Jake? You and him used to have problems, right? But aren’t things better since you got back from the mission? I thought you got along now.”

You remembered how he used to bitch about Hangman this, Hangman that. But his tone changed ever since he got back from his mission, stating that they had talked things out, how saving his life had changed their dynamics. And you were glad. Contrary to belief, while you were an independent woman, who didn’t need anyone to protect you, you wanted Bradley to get along with Jake. Be it professionally or privately. Bradley’s been by your side, in times where even your family wasn’t and it was important to you that he approved of your partners.

“It’s not about him.”

His voice was even, neutral. Also, absolute bullshit. With all the training you’ve had, it was easy for you to read a person, but it was especially easy to read Bradley. You’ve known him for almost twenty years now. And something was clearly bothering him. 

“Fine, I’ll leave it alone for today, because it’s your birthday,” you sighed, jumping off the counter. “But I promise, you’re not getting out of this conversation.”

“Did it have to be a naval aviator?”

You paused in the doorway when Bradley spoke up. Turning on your heel, you looked at him, his face scrunched up in worry. 

“It’s not like I was actively looking for a naval aviator, B. I didn’t even know that he was one, remember?”

“I know,” Bradley sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I just wish it would’ve been anyone else. You know how dangerous my job is. I wanted you to have someone with a less dangerous job, so if anything happened to me, you’d have someone. But now you’re dating a naval aviator? And one from my squadron, on top of that? You could lose both of us, just like that.”

Your mouth opened, but there were no words coming out of it. You never realized this was something Bradley was worried about, and you were overwhelmed by a sudden fondness for your mother hen of a best friend, even if he was dumb. 

“Bradley,” you started, fondly. “I am an FBI agent. Do you know how high the chance is that I get shot or hurt or worse, while on duty?”

Bradley glowered at you.

“You and Jake could lose me just as easily as I could lose you. But we won’t. Because we’re all very good at what we do.”

“That’s debatable.”

You gave him a look and Bradley sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I guess you’re right… Guess I just didn’t expect you to get with a naval aviator.” He took another sip of his beer, looking at you. “You love him?”

Taking a step back, you looked out to where Bradley’s squadron was still standing, apparently pouring out shots. Jake was already looking back at you, raising an eyebrow questioningly. With a smile, you gave him a thumbs up before he nodded, turning back to the others. You turned back to Bradley, cheeks flushed, your chest warm.

“I do, yeah.”

+1

A few days after Bradley’s birthday party, you had decided it was time for your boyfriend to officially officially meet your best friend. You didn’t realize how exhausting it was to keep your job hidden from Jake until you didn’t have to anymore. But you only had yourself to blame for that, huh? You hadn’t even realized how much pressure you had put yourself under, and the heavy weight that lifted off your chest, especially after seeing Jake react the way he did. And it was honestly comical how easily your job invaded your daily life as soon as you dropped the“secret job” ploy.

Jake and Bradley got out of their car, both dressed in their khakis and your mouth ran a little dry. You’d seen Bradley in his uniform probably countless times, you never understood the appeal of a man in uniform. 

“Hey lieutenant,” you greeted him with a teasing lilt in your voice, looping your arms around his neck. Pressing your lips against his, Jake hummed into the kiss, his hands splayed against your back. 

“Hey, yourself… Agent?” 

“It’s actually Special Agent.”

“God, I am already sick of you,” Bradley sighed and you frowned at him. 

“Don’t be mean, B,” you teased, but let go of Jake to hug him nonetheless, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go in.”

You grabbed Jake’s hands, pulling him inside the bustling coffee shop, Bradley hot on your heels. Two naval aviators and an FBI agent enter a coffee shop… There had to be a joke in there somewhere. You and Jake slid into one side of a booth while Bradley sat across from you, picking up a menu. 

“Oh, they have those blended frappes you like, the chocolate chip ones look great,” you told Jake, flipping through the pages and Bradley snickered, looking at his wingman. 

“You drink frappes?”

“They’re the only sugary thing I allow myself,” Jake said defensively, his ears turning red. “I like ‘em, okay?”

“Leave him alone, B,” you scolded Bradley lightly, though you were grinning too. You quickly ordered when the waitress came up to your table, before you settled back into the cushions of the seat. 

“I can’t believe that you’re her best friend,” Jake then sighed, throwing an arm around your shoulder and Bradley pulled a face. 

“Well, I can’t believe that she talked about your sex life with me.”

“Yeah, what’s with that?” Jake asked, glancing at you. “The two of you share everything about your life with each other?”

“Basically, yeah,” you shrugged. 

“Oh good, that is totally not going to bite me in the ass in the future.”

“For the record,” Bradley started, lifting his index finger threateningly. “I do not want to hear about any of your sex-capades in the future. I already feel like bleaching out my ears.”

“Oh please, I literally saw your bare ass when you decided to fuck that one guy on our couch. Even though we agreed on communal spaces being off limits for hookups. Can’t believe you spit on our rules like that, especially with that son of a bitch.” 

The waitress tutted, giving you a dirty look when she placed your drinks on the table, and you only rolled your eyes at her, reaching for your coffee. Jake hid his snort in his frappe, spooning the whipped cream into his mouth. Bradley smiled sheepishly at the waitress, his cheeks reddening, waiting until she was out of earshot until he turned back to you.

“I don’t even know how you found out that I got back together with Lucas. I didn’t tell anyone and yet, there you were, ready to cock-block me as soon as we got naked.”

“Guess I am just that good, huh?”

“Yeah you are,” Jake smirked and you laughed as you glanced at him, leaning further into his side.

Bradley rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling. His hands dropped into his lap, as if into a prayer. “God, how did I never see how similar the two of you are and what did I do to deserve this?”

author's note: whoop whoop!! hope you guys liked it! REBLOG! SHARE! COMMENT! I LOVE YOU!

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[wowowwild]

Ace's All Time Best Fic Rec List (AATBFRL) April 2024: Ace Attorney

It's been a 6 months since my last list so here we go again! (I specified Ace Attorney in case I start doing this for other fandoms.) I originally planned to have all the old recs here as well but the list was too long so here's a link to the previous list. These aren't necessarily in any particular order, but if you can think of a good way for me to organize them, please let me know for future lists!

P.S. Anything rated over T mentions that immediately for your browsing convenience.

Doing more self promotion this year, so check out my pinned post or fic tag (desktop only)!

London, 2021- 7 yg Wrightworth hint of Krisnix. Phoenix is presently in London with Edgeworth. Phoenix is presently knowing that he knows about Kristoph but doesn't want to acknowledge it bc Kristoph has been really good to him and Trucy. But that doesn't matter right now bc they're going to the theatre.

if you leave the light on- 7yg Wrightworth. Nothing can happen until it's over but something Keeps happening. Miles will wait as long as it takes and Trucy decides he's part of the family.

In The Dead Of Night- During the 7yg Edgeworth invites the Wrights to Europe. Trucy has a nightmare and 'Uncle Miles' comforts her.

Phoenix's List- After getting his badge back, Phoenix has some regrets and sets about fixing what he can.

Perfect- I actually found this on another fic rec list and I can see why it was their favorite. Set towards the end of the trial of Bridge to Turnabout. TW if you have memory issues, it might be a little hard to get through parts bc of all the mindfuckery. I have to be really vague here so as not to spoil it. (Wrightworth)

Eo Nomine- Klapollo fake marriage turned real marriage but ig that's what happen when you get fake married while being real in love.

the best you'll never have- Rated M for sex reasons. I love the tagline: "Someone else's wedding is something that can actually be so personal". It's a Blackmadhi complicated relationship, what relationship, they weren't actually dating but also...

Apollo and the Artist (1975 - Oil paint, wax crayon, pencil, collage)- Rated M for mentioned sex reasons. Apollo is not an art person. But to Klavier he is art... and also a person. They've known each other for 8 years and it's probably been coming for just as long. It was a long time coming.

darling i'd wait for you (even if you didn't ask me to)- Wrightworth fake date bc Edgeworth needs a plus one to a wedding for some guy, it's not really important. But the cake sucks.

A Knight in a Loud Red Suit- oh my god oh my god oh my god Klavier gets shot and Apollo stabs a guy. And also love confessions at the hospital. They could have me also if they wanted.

Written- Rated E for sex reasons. Edgeworth moonlights as a Steel Samurai fic writer, and due to it being an obvious coping mechanism for his life and feeling Maya finds out... and accidentally sends a fic to Phoenix who... finds out. Half of the smut is Edgeworth's own fanfic, so we get like... fanfic-ception. That doesn't really work with more than one syllable words, huh...

Lover Be Good to Me- Rated M for implied sex reasons. 5+1 klapollo wooing each other.

Love Love Love- Rated M for implied sex reasons. klapollo is messy in a good way and takes wayyyy too long to call themselves boyfriends. Set from middle of aa4 to past aa6.

delicate- Rated M for sex reasons. klapollo is messy in a bad way (long distance is hard) and they break up but it works out, I prommy. If you don't like angst you'll want to skip this one, though.

(i was) enchanted to meet you- klavquill! I love them, I need to read more fics with them. They meet at the Prosecutor gala for the first time and sparks fly. Actually, they were fireworks, but that's not important.

Process of Elimination- Rated M for sex reasons. One day I will read a fic where Blackmadhi is not complicated as hell. Can they ever talk about their feelings? Apparently I like this, though, bc I keep reading and recc'ing them. Um, Nahyuta is looking for a fuck buddy and by 'process of elimination' ends up deciding on Blackquill but whoops! Feelings.

feel your skin- Rated M for one boner. Klavier is infuriating AND wearing lipgloss and Apollo can't take it. Cue making out in the janitor's closet.

moribund- I keep thinking about this one so I need everyone else to read and think about it with me. Pre Gant busting, POV Lana has to help clean up his messes. This a comedy, mostly of errors.

chronophobia- StarrSkye (AngelxLana) Be forewarned, you are going to cry. Lana has done her time and is trying to find a way to reconnect with the most important people from her past.

Crash! Landing- Junithena, fantastic traumatized autistic representation, if I do say so myself as a traumatized autistic person. It is very sweet and Juniper is a real one. I need me one of those.

In Pursuit of Justice- This one is not yet complete, but I preemptively j'adore'd it. It's a klapollo. Sebastian is great. He says Apollo looks like a frog (accurate).

Witcheln Woes- Secret Santa klapollo and they are cute and Clay is alive and it is sooooo fluffy.

Samurai Swear- Maya making besties with Edgeworth! Maya and Phoenix being besties also! Dash of mutual pining wrigthworth.

Missing You/Missing Time- Ok, hear me out, yes, the mystical bullshit tag is accurate, and de-aging is a weird concept, but !!! It actually serves this story very well! It is a fanfic that feels like a fanfic, but sometimes you want that, you know? Not every fanfic needs to feel like Little Women. Established klapollo first I love yous.