#sorry to keep going on about it I guess...

[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (4) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F! Neigbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: You and Michael are catching up on home duties, tackling laundry and now grocery shopping. As you joke around in the aisles, having fun together, you’re suddenly interrupted by someone Michael knows. The encounter leaves Michael quickly defending himself, insisting that he doesn't have feelings for you, while you start to wonder if your playful behavior gave the wrong impression.

Word Count: 2880

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/ Early 50s)

Authors Note: Hello! This is prob gonna be my last post for now just because these last two weeks of May I am absolutely SLAMMED. Hanging on by a thread at my job, but I got 10 days left. I’m ready for summer. I’ll be back sometime beginning of June. Very sorry. Again thank you for all the love!!! This is gonna have to hold y’all over for a minute. - ryn

“Guess you had the same idea as I did,” you chuckle as you stand in the doorway of the laundry room.

Michael looks over his shoulder as he tosses his scrubs into the drum of the washing machine.

“Hey,” he smiles.

With your basket on your hip and holding it with one hand, you move towards the washing machine next to him.

“You’ve been neglecting home duties too?” you ask, popping open the washer and tossing in your clothes.

Michael lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Is it that obvious? I’ve been running on empty lately—just trying to keep up.”

He measures out the detergent, pours it in, shuts the lid, and turns the knobs with a practiced motion before starting his load.

“I have a mountain of stuff to do…I have to go grocery shopping,” you say, rubbing your forehead as if just remembering.

You toss in a couple of detergent pods and close the washer with a quiet thud and start the machine. 

“So do I,” Michael replies, leaning his back against the washer. “My fridge is completely empty”

There’s a small pause. The hum of the machines fills the space. You glance sideways at him, then back at your basket.

“We could go together…after our laundry's done?” 

” you offer, your voice gentle, almost careful.

You’d found excuses to spend time with Michael—more than just him stepping in to help. Taking you to dinner when Aiden flaked, fixing your jammed window, carrying that heavy shelf box up to your apartment and assembling it. As much as you appreciated all of it, something had shifted.

Your friendship with Michael was growing into something solid, something you looked forward to. You found yourself craving his company, wanting to be around him more than you ever expected.

It wasn’t because you needed something. It was because being with him felt easy, calm, and real.

You wanted more than just passing chats in the lobby or quick moments in the elevator. You wanted time together that didn’t need a reason.

So when you suggested grocery shopping, it wasn’t about the errands—it was about spending time with him. Just being.

He looks over at you, the smile returning—this time slower, warmer. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

—

You and Michael walked into the city’s grocery store, reusable bags in hand. The automatic doors whooshed open, letting in the familiar scent of produce and deli meats. Michael grabbed a cart, glancing over at you with a small smile.

“Alright,” he said, rolling up his sleeves a little. 

“What’s first on your list?”

You pulled out your phone, scanning the notes app. “Eggs. Bread. Fruit. Veggies. Stuff for dinner. Oh—sprinkle of junk food” 

He laughed. “A sprinkle?”

“Okay maybe more than just a sprinkle”

“How about you?” you asked, glancing over at him as he steered the cart forward.

“Pretty much the same as you…Minus the actual planning. I just sort of walk around until something calls to me.” He shrugs

You gave him a look. “So you’re a wander-and-wing-it kind of shopper.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then,” you said, nudging the cart playfully. “Let’s start with my list, and if something speaks to you along the way, you can toss it in.”

The two of you start in the produce section.

You gasped, eyes lighting up as you spotted them. “Look at the tulips!”

Without thinking, you stepped closer, admiring them. “I love when they’re still closed or just starting to bloom. Not fully open—just that halfway point…”

You glanced back at Michael, smiling softly. “They’re my favorite flowers.”

You continued walking, not noticing that Michael had lingered for just a second longer.

As he passed by the cart, he glanced at the flowers again, filing it away.

Tulips. Half-bloomed. Your favorite.

He made a mental note.The two of you wander through the aisles. You grab the things on your list, while Michael picks up whatever catches his eye, things he wants, not necessarily things he needs.

You talk mostly about food. What you like, What you don’t and a few things in between.

In aisle nine, you spot a bag of Nutella Biscuits, your absolute favorite. Your friend had gotten you hooked on them.

You reach for the last bag on the shelf  and so does he.

Fingers brush.

Neither of you pulls away. Your hands linger, resting lightly over the glossy packaging.

The air shifts, quiet, still charged.

“Hey, I saw those first,” you say, raising a brow.

Michael smirks. “Pretty sure my hand got there first.”

“These are my favorites.”

“They’re my guilty pleasure.”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh don’t think I won’t fight you for these, old man—because I will.”

“Oh, you think you’re so funny,” he scoffs out a laugh.

You quickly yank the bag toward you. “Mine!”

“Come here!”

He steps forward, catching you around the waist, gently pulling you back against his chest. His arm wraps around you as he tries to grab the bag from your hands.

You shriek out a giggle. You twist and thrash against him, laughing, still clutching it. “Michael!”

“Hand it over!” he laughs

“Robby?” a voice calls suddenly from the end of the aisle.

You both freeze. Still tangled together. 

 Dana Evans, his colleague and charge nurse. His friend, the closest thing he had to a sister, stands there at the end of the aisle, eyebrows raised at the scene in front of her.

“Dana—” he says, startled. He quickly lets you go, the playful teasing evaporating as his hands fall to his sides.

“Hey,” she says, walking over with a grocery basket tucked in the crook of her arm.

You glance at Michael. There’s a flicker in his eyes, like surprise, maybe discomfort. His posture stiffens, the easy playfulness from a moment ago gone.

It almost feels like he doesn’t want her to see you together.

And that… stings more than you expect.

“Who’s this?” She asked to move closer to the two of you. 

You step in quickly, offering a polite smile and introducing yourself “…I'm his neighbor. Just… a friend.”

You don’t mean to sound awkward, but the words come out carefully, almost rehearsed—like you’re making sure they land a certain way.

Was she someone he was seeing? And here you are, being too playful, too comfortable with him. You didn’t mean to cross any lines, to overstep any boundaries. That wasn’t your intent.

“Right..” She nods. “I’m Dana,” she smiles, but gives Michael a look. 

You felt out of place—like maybe you had crossed a line after all. Like you were standing somewhere you didn’t belong.

You hold out the bag, whacking him in the stomach with it, not on purpose just out of being flustered. “I uh.. I don’t want these anymore. You can have them.” 

Michael blinked, taking the bag from you, confusion flickering in his eyes as you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he asked, noticing the shift in your tone, in your posture.

Without meeting his eyes, you kept straight, not looking back “I just remembered—I, uh, need to grab something from another aisle.”

It’s a lie, you both knew it was, you don’t wait for a response as you turn the corner, needing more distance than biscuits.

Michael he calls after you, he watches disappear, the forgotten bag of Nutella biscuits still in his hand.

Your voice, your expression, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes—it all hit Michael harder than he expected. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to introduce you to Dana before you slipped away.

His attention goes back to Dana. She had only laughed. “Oops. Didn’t mean to scare her off…”

“She probably thinks we’re dating,” Michael muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “With you eyeing her down like that.”

Dana shot him a look. She threw a hand up, still grinning “That’s your fault! You didn’t introduce me fast enough! I run to the grocery store for oat milk and walk into aisle nine to find my friend pressed up against a woman, playfully fighting over cookies!”

She begins to get noisy.

“So who is she?” She was waiting for him to give her more information about who you are and the moment between the two she witnessed. 

Michael rolled his eyes and placed the Nutella biscuits into the grocery cart with a little more force than necessary. “Dana, don’t start—” knowing what she’s thinking. 

“Oh, come on!” Dana said, nudging him with her elbow. “Robby, she’s cute! You’ve clearly been spending time with her. How long has that been going on?! How come you never mentioned her?” Dana asked, with a smile on her face

Michael let out a breath and maintained his composure, pushing the cart forward a few inches. “Because Dana, nothing is going on. She’s just my neighbor.”

“She looked a lot more than a “neighbor” when I entered the aisle.” Dana said with a knowing look, cocking her head in the direction you’d disappeared.

He rolled his eyes.

He started pushing his cart, turned down the next aisle, hoping the shelves of canned goods might somehow end the conversation. “Dana, please drop it.”

Dana wasn’t going to drop it. She fell in step beside him, her gaze sharp. “So you’re seeing her?”

He froze, picking up a can of beans off the shelf, his fingers brushing the label like it held the answer. “No, I’m not seeing her. She has a boyfriend” 

Dana arched her brow. “That didn’t answer the question. You’re not seeing her—but are you wanting to?”

Michael didn’t respond right away. He turned the can in his hand, then returned it to the shelf, avoiding her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, she’s got someone.”

“But you don’t,” Dana pointed out, a note of challenge in her voice. “And last I checked, play fighting over cookies and laughing like that isn’t how you act with someone you’re indifferent to.”

He gave her a look, sharp and tired all at once. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“I’m reading what was right in front of me. Body language doesn’t lie, Robby”

Michael exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “She’s easy to be around, okay? She’s funny, she’s sweet. I like her company, but we’re just friends. I'm not trying to mess with someone who’s already in a relationship. I just help her out with stuff, you know be a neighbors ” 

Dana softened just slightly. “That’s not what it looks like on my end”

“Think what you want Dana, but she and I are friends. That’s all. Nothing more.”

He started pushing the cart down the aisle, leaving her standing behind. “I gotta finish shopping,” he muttered—and find you, he thought.

“We’ll continue this conversation later, Michael!” she called after him.

“No we won’t, Dana!” he yelled back in a sing-song tone as he turned into the next aisle.

—-

You were in the freezer section, staring at the wall of ice cream like you were deep in thought about flavors, though your mind was still spinning from the moment with Michael and awkward interaction with the woman Dana.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him approaching with the cart.

“So ice cream was that important, huh?” Michael said, pulling up beside you. “That’s what made you run off?”

You didn’t look at him right away. “I didn’t run off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, you kinda did. You didn’t even give me a chance to introduce you to Dana.”

“I didn’t want to be in the way…” 

“You weren’t in the way” 

Silence falls between the two of you. 

“So you and Dana?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but the question comes out a little too pointed.

“I work with her,” Michael replies. “She’s the dayshift charge nurse—”

You nod, not really sure what to say, or what exactly you’re feeling. You weren’t trying to pry. Not really. 

Then it hits you—a wave of guilt, sharp and sudden. You start replaying the moment in the aisle. The laughter, the teasing, the way you’d been so at ease with him. If Dana was someone he was seeing, the whole scene would have easily been misread. Maybe you were too comfortable. Too close. You hadn’t meant to cross a line, but now you’re afraid you had.

Before the guilt can fully settle in, Michael speaks again—his voice softer now, his eyes steady on you, like he already knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.

“Dana’s like a sister,” he says, and somehow, it’s like he’s reading your mind.

His tone is calm, even—but there’s a quiet urgency there, tucked just beneath the surface. Like he wants to be sure you hear him. Like it matters that you believe it.

You look at him “Oh… I thought you two were…”

“I know what you must’ve thought,” he interrupts gently, “but it’s not like that. Our coworkers joke that we're ‘work spouses,’ but she’s just my friend. We’ve known each other a long time. That’s all.”

He doesn’t really know why he feels the need to clarify all of that to you. He shouldn’t care what you think. But deep down, he does for some reason. 

A beat passes.

“Are you… seeing anyone?” you ask, your voice softer this time. You don’t know what made you ask. Curiosity, maybe since the two of you were sorta on the topic. 

“No,” he says after a moment, shaking his head. “I haven’t dated in a while.”

There’s a quiet honesty in the way he says it. Not embarrassed. Just real. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything.

You wondered how he was still single.

Michael was kind. Steady. The kind of man who listened, who remembered little things, who made you feel like you mattered. He wasn’t flashy, but he didn’t need to be. Just being around him made you feel calm.

Any woman would be lucky to have him.

He seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t make you question where you stood. Who would show up, say how he felt, and mean it.

You let the thought pass. 

“So…should I get Mint Chocolate Chip or Cookie Dough?” 

“Mint”

“Alright, Mint Chocolate chip it is” you open the door in the freezer section, and placing it into the cart. 

——-

“Here, let me get those—” Michael reached for your reusable bags  along with his at check out. 

“Michael, stop,” you said, trying to swat his hands away. “I can carry my own groceries.”

“I know you can,” he said, easily slipping them from your grip. “But you shouldn’t have to.”

“They’re heavy, and—Michael, no—”

“Stop arguing with me and just let me carry the groceries,” he said, giving you a pointed look.

You huffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine.”

He smiled, victorious. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

The two of you walked back to the apartment, climbing the stairs to the sixth floor, reusable bags in hand—well, in his hands. You stopped in the hallway, right between your doors.

“Thanks tagging along with me,” you said, turning toward him. “And for carrying my groceries… which, I’m more than capable of doing.” You take your bags from his hands. 

“Thanks for letting me tag along, and I know you can carry your own groceries,” Michael said, his voice low and easy. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“Oh—before I forget,” Michael said, reaching into one of his reusable bags.

He pulled out a small bouquet of tulips, their soft petals just beginning to open, one of the bouquets you were admiring earlier. 

You gasped. “Michael, what? When did you get these? I was with you the whole time!”

“I have my ways,” he said with a teasing grin.

You looked at him, touched. Your pout wasn’t sad—just soft, surprised, the kind that tugged at the heart.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful” 

“Oh, here—take these,” he says with a grin, holding out the Nutella cookies like a peace offering, but his eyes are still challenging.

You shake your head. “You take them.”

He scoffs, clearly amused. “Well, you fought me for them.”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Technically, I didn’t win.”

“Neither did I,” he says, shrugging like it's no big deal, but the tension in the air suggests otherwise.

A beat passes. Then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you suggest, “How about we rock-paper-scissors for them?”

“Alright, you’re on,” he replies,

You both set your bags down with a soft thud, the hallway around you oddly quiet as you face each other.

The air feels a little charged as you both prepare. The competitive energy lingers in the air. Michael steps back, getting into position with an exaggerated stance.

“Alright ready?” He asks.

You nod in response.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors-Shoot!" you both say in unison, your hands moving in perfect sync.

You take a deep breath and throw your hand out confidently—rock.

His hand, paper, covers your rock.

“Haha! Sucker!” he cackled, snatching the bag from the ground and holding it over his head like a trophy.

You gasped, mock-offended. “You are the worst!”

“I am the champion,” he corrected, already walking in a victory strut toward his door. “Rock? Really? Rookie move.”

You shook your head, laughing as you scooped up your bags. “Enjoy them — I hope they go stale before you open them.”

He glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. “Joke’s on you. I’m opening them now.”

And with that, he tore open the bag, popped a biscuit into his mouth, and held another one out toward you — his smile softening just slightly.

“Want one?” he offered.

You hold out your hand, and he rattles the bag to get one out for you. 

“Thanks,” you said, biting into the biscuit.

You held out your hand, and he gently rattled the bag until one slid free. He placed it in your palm like it was something more than a cookie.

“I’ll see you later, Michael.”

You unlocked it, picked up your bags, and stepped inside.

“I’ll see you around,” he called, turning toward his side of the hallway.

The door closed behind you, but the smile stayed — along with the taste of chocolate and something just a little sweeter.

Tags: tag: @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @beebeechaos @antisocialfiore @delicatetrashtree @xxxkat3xxx @homebytheharbor @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @livingavilaloca @elkitot @annabellee88 @hagarsays @emma8895eb @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing @jazzimac1967 @lafemme-nk @kmc1989 @whos6claire @harrysgothicbitch @trustme3-13 @qardasngan @silas-aeiou @k3ndallroy @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @ay0nha @404creep @dantemorenatalie @obfuscateyummy @steviebbboi @alliegc28 @catmomstyles3 @ardentistella @madprincessinabox @circumspectre @the-one-with-the-grey-color @thatchickwiththecamera @violetswritingg

Across The Hall (1) (2) (3) (4)

[shysuccubusstuff]

Milking time!

Content: Cow hybrid! Caleb + Possessive! Caleb; Size difference + Mentions of abuse and neglect + Scent marking + Rut + Facial + Face fuck + Masturbation + Cumshot + Dacryphilia

Note: Just read some new manhwa (smut) about hybrids and a farm and it was so good! Sadly there are no more episodes by the moment (right now it only has like 6) but it's so freaking good, gosh I could eat it completely, the dairy cow is so so handsome... and a cutie ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ I hope I explained the position correctly, it's like, laying on top of the person and using your lower thingy on their mouth... not that good with explaining positions, sorry! Let me know if I should make a part 2!

Cow hybrid ! Caleb who recently arrived to the farm. He was found in the middle of nowhere, with his body completely scarred as the rain soaked the small piece of clothing that barely covered his lower half. Just what the hell had happened? You had been trying to get the enemy farm to leave the town after the rumours abou them abusing their workers. You kept cursing under your breath, just why couldn't you do it faster? Well, of course you couldn't, by the time you had found out you barely had any proof apart from what some of the hybrids told you about, so you already knew that this was to be expected... Still, you had to rub your eyes, cleaning the tears that had started to fall down your cheeks and rushing towards the poor young man, trying your best to carry him to the truck so you could bring him to his new home.

Cow hybrid! Caleb who becomes extremely attached to you. It doesn't take more than a few weeks for him to recover from the injuries the old "owners" had caused to him, now constantly following wherever you go. He liked grabbing you by your hips, hiding his hand inside your pocket so he could stay as close as possible to you. You know this could be a bad idea, as you are planning on simply allowing him to choose whatever he wants to do next in life, and growing attached to you was not the best option for that, but you were unable to do anything. After all, he had recently been rescued, surely it was normal for him to become so attached to you, right?

Hybrid bull! Caleb whose possessiveness only worsens. It has been quite few months since Caleb had completely healed, so you had expected him to go back to the "usual" behaviour of the other bulls, who had already found someone to love within the vast farm. In contrast, Caleb had stayed with you, still following you everywhere you went, with a... slight change. He had become extremely possessive of you, constantly trying to start a fight with the other males every time he saw them giving you those glances... Just who did they think they were? Yes, he might have arrived way later than them, but that didn't mean they were allowed to give you those lustful eyes. Since that moment, Caleb had started to pick petty fights with the other hybrids, always acting as if he was simply protecting you from them, while he giving you those sweet puppy eyes he had learnt to do... It seems he did learn quite fast.

Cow hybrid! Caleb who is no longer able to handle his ruts. You used to let him use the toys you had bought for him during those special days, with Caleb using them without much interest, seeing as if it was just something to get over with. During this time, you had to make sure to keep some distance between you and him, trying your best to avoid leaving your scent on him in fear of another female thinking he had a partner, even politely removing his hands whenever he tried to get a bit too handsy with you. Not like it mattered to him, as he soon began to retaliate. Oh, you removed his hand from your hip because other females were watching at him? No problem, next time he would surround your waist with his beefy arms, making sure to pull you to him so you could feel his hard cock pulsing beneath his working clothes. Now you refused to get even a few metres close to him? Guess he simply had to make you come closer yourself.

Cow hybrid! Caleb who takes advantage of you. You were suddenly awakened by a strange noise, not only that, but it was then accompanied by a rustle, someone was moving under your blankets. With your heart thumping, you slowly moved the sheets, finally seeing the reddened and exhausted face, chest puffing as he kept pressing his hard-on against your ass, breath becoming heavier as he started to rub his hips even faster, with you already feeling how his underwear was getting wet from the precum. "Please... please... just help me... It hurts..." Caleb looked at you with tears in his eyes, almost making your chest hurt from seeing how he was struggling to keep himself together. "Just... fine. But don't get used to it, ok?" You tossed the sheets to the side, getting on top of Caleb and removing his wet boxers which had already been stained by his thick cum. Slowly, you started to move your hand up and down, marking a slow rhythm that almost made Caleb groan outloud, biting his own hand to stop himself from making some embarrasing sounds. You kept this rhythm for some minutes, confused as you kept feeling his dick throbbing, almost as if he was close to cumming, still, Caleb kept biting his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he forced himself to last as much as possible, what other opportunity would he have after this? "Maybe... Maybe if you lick it I will end faster...?" Caleb suggested, voice soft as if he was whispering, still, you could feel how much he had been waiting for him to suggest that. "Caleb... just where did you...? Ugh... just... just the tip, ok?" You kneeled, getting one of your legs between his, using your hand to keep his member up, slowly getting closer to it as you sticked out your tongue, carefully entering his tip into your mouth and sucking on it, using one of your hands to masturbate the rest of his member. "Fuck... So good... please, just a bit more, yeah? Please, I've been so good... Didn't fight with the other males for over a week, just a bit?" Caleb looked at you, his muscular body now looking even bigger due to the dim light that entered the window.

Before you noticed, Caleb's hands were already playing with your hair, petting it as you had done so many times before, the caring touch mixed with the feeling of his tip rubbing against your tongue almost making you moan from the pleasure. "Please...? Come on baby, let me do it..." You locked eyes with him from where you were, gradually entering his member until the tip was hitting against the back of your throat, the pressure on it making you gag on it. Caleb's grip got a bit tighter, now grabbing your hair as he restrained himself from pushing his hips forward and fuck your mouth without mercy. "Just do it..." You whispered to him, face flushing as you felt how Caleb's chest puffed up in joy, swiftly pushing you against the couch and straddling you, his cock now being just in front of your face. "Open wide~... here comes your big reward." Caleb abruptly pushed his whole length inside your mouth, using his arms as a way to keep this position in which it looked almost as if he was doing a plank, his happy trail now pressing against your face each time he forced his cock inside you causing tears to form in your eyes as you tried your best to take a deep breath each time he pulled out. Caleb stopped for a second, smiling at you as he saw your chest moving up and down rapidly, after all, he had set a ruthless rhythm for you, making sure to push his cock till it reached the back of your throat, then staying still a few seconds so he could feel your throat tightening around his cock, soon letting you breath once more, smirking as he saw you struggling to adapt to it. At the same time, he kept stroking your hair with care, almost as he wasn't practically bullying your poor mouth, pressing your whole body against the mattress and leaving you with little to no choice than to take it. "Keep your mouth open, here comes your reward..." All of sudden, Caleb moved away his dick moving a bit away so he could put the tip in front of your open mouth, strocking his cock with his right hand as he used the left hand to stay still, heavy ropes of cum falling into your mouth, a sweet aftertaste lingering in your mouth after you swallowed it completely... You hoped this wouldn't awake anything in you.

[robin-blog-18]

Well I guess I gotta go first we gotta keep in touch if anything happened I guess we gotta talk to Bruce about it

* then few days later they couldn't make it because Jason has other mission's outside of Gotham Emily has also other mission in New York the whole month*

( flash back to now)

Luther: and that's why I had to take the bait....miss delight please don't be upset because I lied to you because you think I'm your student ...I wish I would tell you everything about me but it was against my code to tell you that Im Robin.....I'm sorry

Hi you won't mind if I try RP with you right

Sure!

[cherrygirlfriend]

── UPPER WEST SIDE ♫

♫ pairing: ceo!rafe x ex-girlfriend!reader

♫ summary: you and rafe had been together for a year, until you found out he was keeping a secret from you, and ended your relationship. a year later, rafe sneaks into your concert and you get reminded of all the good and bad in your relationship.

♫ warnings / tags: angst. fluff.

♫ author's note: inspired by upper west side by king princess, takes place in new york.

RAFE MASTERLIST

maybe it was pathetic of him to stalk your band's instagram almost obsessively after you blocked him from your personal one, but rafe was desperate; so desperate that when you announced that you were playing a show in the bar a few blocks away from your place where the two of you first met, he saw it as fate.

really, he didn't even mean to come. he was just going to walk past the bar, to see how many people were waiting. but the moment he saw the poster with your face along with your bandmates, it was like he was pulled inside with a magnet.

the bar was much more cluttered than usual and rafe couldn't help but feel a pang of pride in his chest. he knew music was your passion, having woken up to the sound of you strumming your guitar as you wrote down lyrics, so lost in your art it was like nothing else in the world mattered. the way you'd smile up at him, letting out a quiet "sorry, did i wake you?" before going back to what you were doing.

"thank you for coming." the same voice rung out from the speakers, some of the crowd clapping at you as your bandmates got to their places. rafe leaned against the bar, quietly ordering a whiskey on the rocks, his eyes locked onto you, the way the spotlight seemed taken by your presence, the way you seemed to get lost in the moment as soon as your bandmates started playing, your body swaying along to the melody.

you're so rich, bet you bought yourself a diamond chain to look real cool while you're telling all your friends it's fake but you know it's lies another bitch from the upper west side credit cards cutting all of your lines, yeah...

"your place is way too fancy." you chuckled as rafe turned the lights on his upper west side apartment, rolling his eyes, his hand in yours, "what do you even do? let me guess. it's something ridiculously illegal or immoral. you're probably an environmental criminal. or a finance bro."

"you don't like my apartment?" rafe grinned, his arms wrapping around your middle, "we're always at your place. it doesn't even have proper heating."

"so? we always find a way to warm each other up." you cocked your head to the side, your hands on his muscular chest, "besides, my apartment is cozy. this place just looks... cold." you looked around the modern penthouse, most of it either black or white, a strange contrast to the colorful space you'd made of your own home.

"maybe i'll give you a key." rafe pressed a small kiss on your lips, "we could go shopping for some furniture together. i'll let you go nuts on the whole apartment..." he mumbled against your lips.

"rafe, we've been together for three months, and you're already talking about moving in together?" you chuckled softly and pulled back to look up at him in the eyes, "you're crazy."

"yeah." rafe sighs, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "i'm crazy about you. come on, let's move in together. you can keep renting your little rabbithole in brooklyn just in case, but you could live here."

"it's not a rabbithole!" you smacked his chest playfully before grinning up at the man, "let me think about it."

you're so cute, bet you really wanna be a star, to feel like gold when you're dancing on broken hearts and you know it's true you're no good 'til they're looking at you bad front, i can see right through, yeah.

"shit, this place is fancy." leona said with wide eyes as three of your friends walked into your new home, you and rafe having finished redecorating it a while ago, the place now looking much livelier. "do you think your sugar daddy's gonna notice if we steal some of the silver?"

"he's not my sugar daddy." you rolled your eyes, leading your friends to the kitchen. rafe was standing at the counter, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up as he cut a cucumber. "guys, this is rafe." the man looked up with a nod, "rafe, these are my friends. we're gonna be in the living room and have a mini-housewarming party."

"have fun." rafe smiled, pressing a kiss on your lips, "don't drink too much."

"okay, mom."

i can't stop judging everything you do but i can't get enough of you.

it was two in the morning when you woke up to the sound of the front door opening and closing, along with the sound of someone taking their shoes off, soft footsteps against the hardwood floor getting closer and closer, the bedroom door opening.

rafe let out an exasperated sigh, and you watched from the bed as he discarded his jacket, his tie, blouse, and eventually his pants, the belt clinking against the floor as he was left in his boxers, making his way to the bed.

when he was settled in under the blankets, you whispered softly, "rafe?"

"hey. sorry, baby..." rafe mumbled, pulling you into his warm, muscular chest, "did i wake you up?"

"yeah. it's fine, though. where were you?"

"just had to deal with family shit." rafe pressed a kiss to your hairline, "let's go to sleep." his words marking that it would be the end of the conversation.

i sleep great knowing we will never be the same 'cause i'm downtown hanging out while you're in pain and i'm doing fine even though you're still on my mind train rides to the upper west side, yeah.

you sat on the toilet seat, tapping the back of your foot against the marble floor, the wait feeling so excruciating you felt like you'd drop dead any second. you had no idea how he'd react, if he'd be happy, if he'd be upset...

the timer on your phone that had been set for three minutes finally went off, and you practically jumped up, grabbing the stick off the bathroom counter and turning it over to see the result.

two lines.

i can't stop judging everything you do but i can't get enough of you.

rafe had just gotten home from work; you'd been hyping yourself up the entire day, tonight, you'd tell him, and no matter how he was going to react, you'd be alright. you heard the shower running in the bathroom, a small smile playing on your lips as you thought about what your future would be like. what it'd be like to build a family with rafe.

his phone pinged on his nightstand, and without even thinking, you took it, your blood turning cold when you saw the notification he had received.

emma ♡ i miss you, baby! come home soon. ♡

at that moment, the bathroom door opened, and you turned to look at him with your jaw clenched, holding up his phone, rafe looking back at you with an expression that basically screamed 'oh shit.'

i can't stop i can't get enough of you, yeah i can't stop judging everything you do but i can't get enough of you.

"you're engaged?!" you screamed, "you're fucking engaged and you didn't think to tell me?! we've been together for a year!"

"it's not like that!" rafe groaned, "just listen, it's an arrangement that my dad's pushing onto me, i don't want it, baby! i wanna be with you!"

you scoffed and shook your head, stuffing clothes into a duffel bag, "you've gotta be out of your mind if i'm gonna be some side piece to a married man, rafe. i'm not a fucking homewrecker!"

"i'll just tell them i won't do it! come on, baby, please." rafe took hold of your wrist to stop you from packing, "you're the person i love, you're the person i wanna be with."

can't get enough of you

you tried swallowing the hurt stuck in your throat before you spoke, "have you slept with her?"

rafe didn't have to say anything, the look of guilt on his face telling enough.

"have you slept with her while we were together?"

rafe looked away, taking a deep breath, bile rising in your throat as you thought about him touching her, only to touch you as if nothing had happened.

can't get enough of you

you rushed out of the apartment building with rafe hot on your trail, following you. "come on, let's just talk about this! we can fix this!"

"there's nothing to be fixed, rafe! go back to your fucking fiancée!" you shouted back, pulling open the door to a taxi, rafe watching as you got in.

you were gone.

can't get enough of you

you looked down at your stomach. how was it that in just one hour, the future you'd been planning and dreaming about with the man you loved and the child you were carrying was crushed?

can't get enough of you...

you finished the song, feeling a tear trail down your cheek, finally opening your eyes when you heard the crowd starting to applaud, a weak smile on your painted lips until you spotted something from the corner of your eye.

a familiar figure sneaking out of the bar.

TAGLIST: @raahosh @purpleplumpudding @rafesheaven @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @littlelamy @tinythebunni

[clara-a7]

𝙁𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙃𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚 || Pedri⁸

彡PAIRING ; pedri x fem!reader

彡WARNINGS ; fluff

彡SUMMARY ; you stole his favorite hoodie

彡WORDS ; 540

彡DISCLAIMER ; Everything written here is FICTITIOUS.

彡AUTHOR'S NOTE ; sorry if here are any mistakes, english isn't my first language!

It started innocently enough. You’d had a long day and, while Pedri was away at training, you decided to raid his closet for something comfortable to wear. That’s when you found it his favorite hoodie.

An old Barça one from when he was a teenager.

The one he always wore after matches, the one that smelled like him, the one he swore he’d never let anyone else wear.

But today, you were feeling bold. Slipping it over your head, you curled up on the couch and put something on the TV. The fabric was soft, warm, and the perfect escape from the stress of your day. You could practically feel Pedri’s presence around you, and it made you smile.

Pedri had a habit of misplacing things always forgetting where he left his keys, his shoes, or, more often than not, that beloved hoodie. So when he walked in, exhausted from training, looking a bit disheveled and clearly on the hunt, you already knew what he was after.

“Have you seen my hoodie?” he asked, running a hand through his messy curls. You could tell from the way he was scanning the apartment that he was starting to panic just a little.

You tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of your mouth gave you away. “What hoodie?” you asked, pretending not to know.

“Y/N…” he sighed, dropping into that adorable whiny tone that always melted you. “You know the one I’m talking about.”

You bit your lip to hide your grin. “Haven’t seen it. Did you check the laundry?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly suspicious. But a small smile was already tugging at his lips. “I swear, if you’ve taken it again!”

Before he could finish, he dropped down next to you on the couch, his eyes locking onto the sleeves that gave you away. He tugged at them with a smirk.

“Pedri!” you laughed, trying to tug the hoodie back. “I’m comfy!”

“Mhm,” he said, already pulling you into his lap like that was the end of the discussion. His chin rested on your shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around you as he nuzzled into the hoodie. “Knew something was off. You looked too cozy.”

“It’s not my fault,” you mumbled, still giggling. “This hoodie’s stupidly comfortable.”

“I know,” he said, playfully. “That’s why I wear it. Or used to, anyway.”

He didn’t sound mad far from it. His arms tightened a little more around you, his hands smoothing down the back of the hoodie like he couldn’t help it.

“Guess I’ll let it slide,” he murmured. “This time.”

You leaned your head against his chest, letting the quiet settle in.

“You’re very generous.”

He pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling against you. “I like it on you anyway.”

You didn’t say anything else for a while. Just stayed there, wrapped up in him in the hoodie, in the quiet, in the warmth that always came with him.

“Next time you go away,” you whispered, your fingers playing with the cuff, “I’m sleeping in this.”

“Good,” he said with a soft chuckle. “That’s what it’s there for. To keep you warm when I can’t.”

Funny how something so simple could feel so much like love.

✿彡did you enjoy this? comments, likes, and reblogs are immensely appreciatedミ✿

© clara-a7 - all rights reserved.

[itdontmatter283472374]

What are we? Chapter Fifteen

A/N: Sorry, I was kind of MIA this week. I got t-boned on Monday by an uninsured driver, so that's been my free time spent. Sorry, like trauma dump there. I also gave up mid proofread, so like if it doesn't make sense, like I don't know man, I'm tired.

Azzi stood in front of the mirror in the locker room, towel draped around her shoulders, hair still damp from the shower. The room was quiet now—just the distant hum of vending machines in the hallway and the occasional clatter of a stray basketball echoing from the gym.

Everyone else had cleared out already. Nika had bounced back with alarming speed, cracking jokes as she limped off with an iced coffee. Lou had disappeared for a meeting. Even Paige had gone to physical therapy, insisting she didn’t need a babysitter.

Azzi wasn’t so sure.

She leaned forward, resting her hands on the cool porcelain of the sink, studying her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, but it was more than just physical. There was a weight in her chest she hadn’t been able to shake since she woke up with Paige curled into her side, soft and warm and impossibly close.

And beneath it all, a dull ache pulsed in her right foot—a reminder that her body wasn’t invincible, no matter how many minutes she played through it. She shifted her weight instinctively, trying to ease the pressure, but it flared again, sharp for just a second before fading into that familiar throb.

She hated how used to it she’d gotten.

The trainers kept saying it was just residual inflammation, nothing serious. But Azzi knew her body better than anyone. Something still felt off—tight, fragile, like a wire pulled too taut. It wasn’t enough to sideline her, but it was enough to make her second-guess every pivot, every drive to the hoop.

And with playoffs around the corner, second-guessing was dangerous.

She sighed, reaching down to rub her arch gently, fingertips brushing over the tender spot near the heel. Another deep breath. Just keep moving. Push through. Be the calm one. Be the leader.

But between the unspoken feelings building with Paige and the quiet fear of reinjury whispering at the edges of every step, Azzi wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend everything was fine.

She glanced at the clock.

Time to move. Time to act like nothing was wrong.

Azzi stood, rolled her ankle once out of habit, then limped toward her locker with practiced ease, like the pain was just part of the uniform now.

Azzi made it to the team meeting just in time, slipping into a seat near the end of the table, opposite the whiteboard where the coaching staff had already started scribbling plays and notes. Her foot was already barking at her for the brisk walk over.

She kept her game face on.

Kind of.

While CD broke down film from the last game, Azzi subtly pulled off her sneaker under the table and pressed her fingers into the arch of her foot, trying to knead out the tension. She rotated her ankle in slow, controlled circles, hoping no one would notice.

"Hey." Caroline’s voice was soft, her elbow nudging Azzi’s lightly. "You okay?"

Azzi straightened quickly, slipping her foot back into her shoe like she’d been caught cheating on a test. "Yeah. Just… tight calves or something."

Caroline didn’t say anything at first. Just gave her a look—that Caroline look, equal parts skeptical and concerned. Then she leaned in, whispered under her breath, "Come get a salad with me after this. You look like you’re unraveling."

Azzi almost smiled.

The café was only a few blocks from campus, the kind of low-key spot with mismatched chairs, lo-fi music, and a corner booth that Caroline always claimed as "theirs." They sat across from each other, slowly picking at bowls of overpriced greens topped with chicken and quinoa.

Caroline sipped from her lemon water and tilted her head. "So... how’s your emotional storm going?"

Azzi smirked, stabbing at a cherry tomato. "Which one?"

Caroline shrugged. "I’m not gonna ask about whatever weird, slow-burn will-they-won’t-they situation you and Paige are locked in. That’s always complicated."

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the faint blush gave her away.

Caroline just grinned. "See? Exactly. That’s a whole separate thing. But that’s not what’s eating you."

Azzi’s fork stilled.

Caroline’s voice softened. "It’s your foot, isn’t it?"

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She just looked down at her bowl, the appetite she’d managed to fake now completelygone.

"I don’t know what to do," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not bad enough to sit out. Not bad enough to tell the trainers. But… it doesn’t feel right. And I’m scared if I push too hard, it’ll snap. And then… everything stops."

Caroline was quiet for a moment, chewing slowly like she was giving the words their proper weight.

“And?”

“And it’s not getting better,” Azzi admitted. She paused, picking at her cuticles. “But I can’t afford for it to get worse.”

Caroline watched her carefully, sensing there was more.

“You think it’s serious?”

Azzi shook her head. “No. Or… I don’t want it to be. But it’s not going away either. And with Paige out… it just feels like everything’s on me.”

There it was—the real weight. Not pain. Not fatigue. Guilt.

“I can’t afford to slow down,” Azzi said quietly. “Not right now. Not with her hurt.”

Caroline leaned forward, voice soft but steady. “Az… no one expects you to carry this team alone.”

Azzi scoffed. “Don’t they? She’s on crutches. Coach is trying to keep the ship together. Everyone keeps looking at me like I’m supposed to keep things moving.”

“You’re not wrong,” Caroline said, and Azzi blinked at the blunt honesty. “You are a leader. You’re one of the best players in the country. But you’re also human. Not a machine. And playing through pain doesn’t make you strong—it just makes it harder to finish what you started.”

Azzi looked down again, her jaw tight. “If I say something, it feels like admitting I can’t handle it. Like I’m not enough without her.”

Caroline reached across the table, lightly touching her wrist. “You’re enough. With Paige. Without Paige. Limping. Flying. You’re enough. But you can’t carry all of this if you’re running on empty. And you sure as hell don’t have to do it alone.”

Azzi didn’t speak. She just nodded slowly, her throat tight with words she didn’t have the energy to say.

Caroline leaned back, letting the silence settle.

“Besides,” she added casually, “if you go down, who’s gonna shut Nika up in practice?”

Azzi let out a short laugh, the tension easing just a bit. “That’s true. Someone’s gotta keep her humble.”

“Exactly. So take care of yourself, captain,” Caroline said, raising her drink like a toast. “We kind of need you to make it to the tournament without imploding.”

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

It was nearly 9:00 p.m., and the study space above the team’s private gym was dead quiet—just the soft hum of the overhead lights and the occasional creak of the old ventilation system kicking in.

Azzi was curled up on one of the worn couches with her laptop balanced on her knees, a textbook open beside her, and a mess of highlighters scattered across the cushion. Her phone sat face-down on the table, on Do Not Disturb. She hadn’t looked at it in over an hour.

She was deep in a stats assignment—something about regression models that was somehow harder to decode than any zone defense she’d ever faced. Her brows were furrowed, lips slightly parted as she mouthed numbers to herself.

Then—click.

The soft sound of a door opening broke the silence.

Azzi turned around, her muscles tensing like she’d been caught doing something wrong. Her eyes softened instantly when she saw who it was.

“Seriously?” she said, eyebrows lifting. “How did you get up here?”

Paige stood in the doorway, hoodie half-zipped, hair pulled up into a messy bun, a DQ bag in one hand and two small Blizzards in the other. Her knee brace was visible under her oversized shorts, but the crutches were gone.

“Relax,” Paige said with a smirk. “I’m officially off crutches. It’s all about the brace now. Plus, Nika dropped me off at the front like I’m royalty or something. Had to bribe her with fries.”

Azzi blinked, then laughed, leaning back into the couch. “You bribed Nika with food? Rookie move. Now she owns you.”

Paige limped in slowly, careful but confident, and handed one of the Blizzards to Azzi. “Cookies and cream,” she said. “Figured you needed a break from being the world’s most intense math student.”

Azzi took it with a grateful smile, the cold cup pressing against her sore hands. “You figured right.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel heavy, just full of things neither of them had said yet.

Paige peeked over at her. “You’ve been up here a while?”

“Yeah. Needed to focus.” Azzi took a bite of her Blizzard, letting the ice cream melt on her tongue before she spoke again. “Wasn’t feeling the dorm tonight.”

Paige nodded, not pushing.

A beat passed. Then, almost casually, she asked, “Foot still bothering you?”

Azzi’s spoon froze midair.

She didn’t answer right away.

Paige looked over, her expression calm, but serious. “Caroline told me you’ve been limping more than usual. I figured if she noticed, it had to be real.”

Azzi exhaled, setting the cup down for a second. “It’s fine. Just sore.”

“That’s what you always say.”

Azzi gave her a look. “And you’re one to talk? You literally played three minutes on a torn meniscus before letting anyone help.”

Paige smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Touché.”

They sat with it a moment—two athletes who knew each other too well, two people orbiting the same quiet truth: they were both scared, for different reasons.

Paige nudged her shoulder gently. “I know you’re trying to keep everything together.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. And it’s okay,” Paige said. “But just so you know… I’m still here. Just because I’m not on the court doesn’t mean I’m not in it with you.”

Azzi looked over at her, heart clenching slightly.

She didn’t say anything. She just nodded once, quiet but full of meaning.

Then Paige offered a small, crooked smile. “Also, I walked up here just to watch you stress-eat a Blizzard.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

Paige leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “It’s tradition.”

The gym study space had grown even quieter. The clock on the wall ticked toward 10:30, the lights now dimmed slightlyon the automatic timer. Outside the windows, the campus was wrapped in night.

Azzi was still hunched over her laptop, scribbling notes from a reading that looked like it was draining her soul in real time. Her brows were drawn together in deep focus, her Blizzard long forgotten, half-melted beside her.

Paige, stretched out on the other end of the couch, was glued to her phone—at least, she pretended to be.

But her eyes kept drifting.

First, a glance.

Then another.

Then just full-on staring.

Azzi could feel it. The weight of it. Paige’s gaze on her like a heat lamp, unblinking, relentless.

Finally, without looking up, Azzi muttered, “What?”

Paige blinked like she’d been caught. “Nothing.”

Azzi side-eyed her, skeptical, then turned back to her laptop.

Five seconds passed.

Then ten.

Azzi sighed loudly, her pencil pausing mid-sentence. “Bro. Can you stop staring at me?”

Paige didn’t even flinch. “Sorry. You just look so cute when you’re aggressively annotating.”

Azzi groaned. “Paige.”

“What? I’m just appreciating the intensity. It’s hot.”

Azzi turned slightly, leveling a dry look at her. “I need to do homework.”

“You’ve been doing homework all night,” Paige said, not bothering to hide the pout in her voice now. “Come on. Talk to me or something. I’m bored.”

Azzi shot her a look. “You’re always bored.”

“Well, yeah. I’m injured and useless and have nothing but screen time and painkillers. Meanwhile, you’ve turned into this… academic machine.”

Azzi sighed, rubbing her temple. “We’re on the road all next week. I don’t have the luxury of downtime like you.”

That one hit just a little too hard.

Paige stiffened, her smile faltering. “Whatever.”

Azzi closed her eyes for a second, then softened her tone. “Just fifteen more minutes. Then I’m done. For real.”

Paige didn’t say anything. She just turned her head and gave her the biggest, most ridiculous puppy-dog eyes Azzi had ever seen.

Azzi tried to ignore it. Failed.

“God,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Sleepover at yours after, okay?”

Paige’s grin was immediate and smug. “Knew you couldn’t resist.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the small smile pulling at her lips. “I swear, you're worse than Nika.”

“High praise.”

Azzi turned back to her laptop, muttering under her breath, “More like deeply concerning.”

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

The night was quiet as they stepped out into the near-empty parking lot, the sound of their sneakers on pavement the only thing cutting through the stillness. Paige moved slowly, her brace visible under her hoodie and shorts, while Azzi unlocked her car with a quick click of the fob.

They didn’t speak as they got in. Azzi tossed both their bags in the backseat and slid into the driver’s seat. Paige adjusted the passenger seat back to stretch her leg out, settling in with a soft exhale.

Azzi connected her phone to the car’s Bluetooth, her screen briefly lighting up in the console’s reflection. She scrolled through her playlist for a second, then hesitated.

From the passenger seat, Paige said quietly, “Play Another Sad Love Song. The Khalid one.”

Azzi glanced over at her. “Seriously? You want to be sad right now?”

Paige leaned her head back against the seat, staring up through the sunroof at the dark sky. “I’m already sad. Might as well have a soundtrack.”

Azzi shook her head but didn’t argue. She found the track, tapped it, and the soft, aching intro filled the car.

They pulled out of the lot, the streetlights flickering across the windshield as Khalid’s voice floated between them:

“I can't keep your love, I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this…”

They didn’t talk.

Azzi kept her eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, tapping lightly in rhythm. Paige, riding quietly beside her, was staring out the window, her features bathed in the glow of passing lights.

By the time the chorus came, they were both softly singing, quiet and a little off-key, but in sync:

“Another sad love song / I can’t forget…”

Azzi’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Paige could hear the emotion in it, just like Azzi could feel the weight behind Paige’s silence.

There was something unspoken between them, something neither had touched directly. But it lived in that song. In every line, they sang without looking at each other.

As they pulled into the lot outside Paige’s building, the last few notes played, fading into silence. Azzi turned the key in the ignition, and the engine cut off. The world felt still again.

Paige didn’t move to open the door.

“Depressing choice,” Azzi said quietly, breaking the silence.

Paige turned to her, a soft smile on her lips. “But kind of perfect.”

Azzi huffed a quiet laugh, looking down at her hands. “You always do this.”

Paige tilted her head. “Do what?”

“Make everything complicated.”

Paige just stared at her for a beat, her voice gentler now. “You didn’t have to sing with me.”

Azzi looked over, meeting her eyes for just a moment. “Yeah, I did.”

Paige blinked, then looked away, biting back a smile that wasn’t fully sad, but wasn’t fully happy either.

“Come on,” she said, her voice low. “Sleepover at mine?”

Azzi rolled her eyes like she was tired of saying yes. “Obviously.”

Paige grinned, unbuckling her seatbelt with a victorious flourish. “Knew you loved me.”

Azzi muttered, “I’m starting to regret it.”

But she was smiling as she stepped out of the car.

As they walked in through the door, Nika was sitting at the kitchen table, her eyes flicking up just enough to glance at the two of them. A smirk tugged at her lips as she leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. Her gaze darted between Paige and Azzi, and there was something in the way she looked that made Azzi’s stomach do a little flip. Nika’s eyes were sharp, almost knowing, but she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, ever the expert at pretending to be oblivious, ignored her and headed toward Paige’s bedroom. Paige, however, lingered for just a second before turning down the hall toward the kitchenette, where Nika was still hovering with a knowing look.

“So, the plan worked, huh?” Nika asked casually, tilting her head just enough for Paige to catch the smirk.

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the amused grin that pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Of course it did. She’s meant to be here.”

Nika snorted. “Sure, sure. Just admit you like the chaos.”

Paige stepped closer to Nika, leaning on the table next to her, eyes drifting down to the homework she was working on. “I was gonna start planning how to ask her to be my girlfriend… but she’s dealing with a lot right now, and I don’t want to add to her plate. But I hate this in-between, you know?”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Thank god I don’t have to deal with that. And Nahiem? We’re officially locked in.”

Paige made a face. “Whatever, bro.” She shook her head in mock disgust and walked down the hall toward her room.

Azzi, already in Paige’s room, turned to her with a quiet, “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Okay,” Paige replied absentmindedly, her mind already wandering as she flopped onto her bed, letting her thoughts drift to the way things had been with Azzi. Things were slowly shifting, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

Fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and Azzi walked in, her damp hair slicked back, wrapped in nothing buta towel.

Paige’s gaze snapped immediately to her, eyes locking on Azzi’s form as she walked into the room. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was staring. She watched Azzi move, the way the towel hung loosely around her frame.

Azzi pretended not to notice, but her lips twitched as she glanced at Paige. “What?”

Paige didn’t answer, but her lips curled up into a grin. Azzi raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting mischievously. “Can I just borrow your clothes? I don’t feel like digging through my bag.”

Paige leaned back on her hands, her voice low, teasing. “What else would you wear?”

Azzi grinned, her tone playful but pointed. “You’d prefer nothing, wouldn’t you? I can tell by the way you’re staring right now.”

Paige’s face flushed instantly, but she threw her hands up in mock exasperation. “Whatever, bro.”

Azzi shot her a playful glare. “Don’t call me bro.”

Paige tilted her head, her voice shifting into a more teasing tone. “Fine, princess. Wear the UConn shirt from my clean clothes.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smirked, dropping her towel and starting to change. Paige’s eyes widened involuntarily, and she couldn’t seem to look away, watching as Azzi slipped on her clothes, her movements smooth and confident. When Azzi turned around, now dressed in just boxers and the oversized UConn shirt, Paige’s breath hitched. Her gaze didn’t stray, frozen on Azzi’s back and—

Azzi turned just in time to catch Paige’s eyes locked on her. The instant the two of them made eye contact, Azzi’s smirk widened, now fully aware of how much she was affecting Paige.

“Oh, you’re staring,” Azzi teased, her voice light but filled with amusement. Paige’s face went fully red, and she quickly turned her head, burying her face in the pillow.

Azzi hopped onto the bed, landing next to Paige, and fluffed her hair before leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Paige rolled over with a groan, clearly flustered. “Your hair is still wet,” she muttered, burying her face deeper into the pillow.

Azzi chuckled softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she propped herself up on one arm. “Clearly, my hair isn’t the thing that’s wet.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, enjoying the rush of teasing that made Paige squirm.

Paige let out an exasperated sigh but couldn’t suppress the small laugh that followed. She glanced at Azzi, clearly trying to maintain her composure, but failing miserably. “I’m done with you, bro.”

Azzi grinned, her voice dripping with amusement as she flopped back onto the bed beside Paige. “You say that every time, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”

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

The hotel room was quiet except for the distant hum of traffic outside and the faint sound of ESPN murmuring from a muted TV across the room. Azzi lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers she couldn’t find in her head.

Lou sat on the edge of the other bed, tying her hoodie around her waist. She glanced over. “You good, bro?”

Azzi blinked, barely turning her head. “Yeah,” she said softly.

But her voice was tight. Too casual. Too rehearsed.

Lou squinted at her for a second, then sighed knowingly. “I’m heading down to Aaliyah and Ayanna’s room. Whole squad’s there.”

Azzi nodded. “Cool.”

Lou lingered for half a second, like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t. She just grabbed her key card and left the room, letting the door fall shut behind her with a soft click.

Azzi didn’t move.

Ten more minutes passed.

She just kept staring—chest tight, heart thudding harder than it should’ve been for someone just lying still.

The ceiling had nothing left to say.

Azzi stared at it anyway, eyes unfocused, thoughts churning. Her heartbeat felt loud in her ears, louder than it should've been for someone lying still. March Madness. Ohio State. Everything they’d worked for was less than twenty-four hours away, and all she could feel was the weight of it.

Then the door clicked open.

Azzi sat up halfway as Paige slipped inside, the hallway light catching on her features. She was in a hoodie and sweats, barefoot, her brace hidden beneath loose fabric. She closed the door quietly behind her, like she already knew this was where she was supposed to be.

Azzi exhaled. “Wassup?”

Paige didn’t answer right away. She walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why are you up here by yourself?”

Azzi shrugged, eyes avoiding hers. “Just thinking.”

“How’d you think I got in?” Paige said with a small smile. “Lou gave me your key. Said you were in your head. She wasn’t wrong.”

Azzi gave a quiet huff and laid back down. Paige followed, lying beside her, both of them staring at the ceiling now, shoulder to shoulder, like they were sixteen again and the world hadn’t gotten so loud yet.

After a long beat, Paige’s voice broke the stillness.

“You know, I’ve watched you carry this team without asking for anything back. Not attention, not credit—nothing. You just show up every day. Focused. Unshakable. But you’re not a machine, Az. You’re a human being. And I think sometimes… you forget that’s enough.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t speak.

“This season’s been hell,” Paige continued, her voice steady but low. “Injuries, pressure, losses. Uncertainty. We’ve been tested in every way a team can be. But through all of it, you’ve kept your head down and kept moving. You’ve kept us moving.”

She turned her head, looking at Azzi now, even if Azzi couldn’t bring herself to meet her eyes.

“I need you to hear this: you are not just our scorer. Not just our hope. You are so much more than that. You are Azzi Fudd. The girl I met when I was sixteen—quiet, brilliant, deadly with a jumper. The same girl who played like joy lived in her bones. The same girl who made me believe this game could be beautiful.”

A tear slipped down Azzi’s cheek before she could stop it.

Paige reached over and gently wiped it away, her fingers soft against her skin.

“You are not defined by what happens tomorrow,” Paige whispered. “Not by a win. Not by a loss. You are a sister. A daughter. A friend. A leader. And yeah… you’re kind of my idol.”

Azzi let out a soft, broken laugh.

Paige smiled. “Don’t play tomorrow to prove anything. You’ve already proven it. Don’t play to silence anyone. They don’t matter. Play because you love it. Play for you. Play for that little girl who fell in love with a basketball and never looked back.”

Azzi finally turned her head, eyes meeting Paige’s, glassy but steady.

“Thanks, P,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

Paige pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly.

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

The gym buzzed with the energy only March Madness could bring. The arena was already electric—crowds packed in, music blaring, TV lights scanning the court—but for Azzi, it all sounded muffled. Distant.

She was going through the motions: layups, pull-ups, corner threes. The kind of shots she could hit in her sleep.

Paige stood off to the side, quietly rebounding for her.

She wasn’t saying anything—hadn’t said much since they left the hotel—but her eyes never left Azzi. She tracked her rhythm, watched the slight stiffness in her shoulders, the way she held her follow-through a second too long, like she was trying to force confidence to show up by muscle memory alone.

And Paige could feel it. Something was still off.

But she didn’t say it. Not now. Not here.

Azzi caught the ball again, nailed another three, and jogged back to half-court. Paige passed her the ball gently this time, less like a teammate, more like a friend offering quiet comfort.

As they walked back to the locker room with the rest of the team before tip-off, Paige leaned in just enough to speak under the noise of the crowd.

“Let it all go, Az,” she said softly. “The pressure. The noise. Just play your game. Play for you.”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. Just nodded once, barely a motion.

Paige looked at her as they stepped into the tunnel. She wasn’t sure it landed. Wasn’t sure it ever could—not with the weight Azzi was carrying. But she let it go. For now.

The final buzzer rang, and the scoreboard didn’t lie.

Ohio State 73, UConn 61.

The air in the locker room was heavy. The kind of silence that filled your lungs with regret and left no room to breathe.

Azzi sat on the bench, still in her uniform, staring down at her hands like they’d betrayed her. Fourteen points. It wasn’t terrible. But it wasn’t her. Not when the team needed more.

Across from her, Paige was still standing, gripping the towel around her neck, her eyes locked on Azzi like she was trying to send comfort through sheer will.

Then the door slammed.

Geno walked in, fire in his eyes. “Are you kidding me? This is what we’ve been building for? That’s what you give me in March?”

No one spoke.

He paced the floor like a storm, voice rising with every step. “We played scared. We played soft. We rolled over. I don’t care how talented Ohio State is. That wasn’t them beating us. That was us handing it to them. You don’t get to wear this jersey and play like the moment’s too big for you.”

Azzi didn’t flinch, didn’t look up. She just sat there, still, jaw clenched so tightly that Paige could see the tension from across the room.

Geno kept going, but Paige barely heard it anymore.

All she could see was Azzi.

And all she could feel was the ache in her chest watching the person she cared about most look so small.

She wanted to cross the room, sit beside her, and say something. But she didn’t know if Azzi needed comfort or space. So she stayed still, watching her, willing her to lift her head, to say anything, to breathe.

But Azzi just sat there, silent, still, alone in a room full of teammates.

And Paige’s heart broke quietly in the space between them.

The hallway was dim, the hotel hushed in that heavy, post-loss silence. No music, no laughter, just the sound of zippers dragging and cleats being stuffed into duffel bags. Everyone moved on autopilot, tired and worn, emotionally drained.

Azzi moved quietly, folding her travel hoodie with more care than necessary. Her face was blank, unreadable, but her silence spoke louder than anything she could say.

The team bus waited outside in the cold March air. The red-eye flight back to Storrs loomed ahead, like a long, slow exhale no one wanted to take.

Azzi climbed aboard first, heading straight to the back corner, the furthest spot from the front, and pressed her bag against the window like a shield. She didn’t look at anyone.

A minute later, Paige stepped on board, her steps slow but certain. She glanced around once before making her way to the back and sliding into the seat beside Azzi, wordless. She didn’t say anything right away, just shifted to get comfortable, resting her arm between them.

Then, gently, she reached out and rubbed Azzi’s thigh. Slow, grounding.

Azzi didn’t speak. She just leaned sideways, her head softly dropping to Paige’s shoulder like it was the only safe place in the world.

Within minutes, her breathing slowed. She was asleep.

Paige sat still, eyes on the window, her hand never moving from Azzi’s leg. As the bus rolled through dark city streets toward the tarmac, Paige watched the city lights blur past and let herself feel all the things she hadn’t had time to say.

They arrived at the plane just before 1 a.m., headlights flashing across the private jet parked on the quiet runway. Coaches and staff filed out first, the team trailing slowly behind.

Paige leaned down and whispered, “Princess… wake up.”

Azzi stirred with a sleepy groan, her voice muffled. “Mmm… I’m up…”

She didn’t move for a second, then finally sat up, rubbing her eyes. Paige took her hand as they climbed down the bus steps together, walking side by side under the yellow tarmac lights.

Once on the plane, they gravitated to the same seat without thinking—side by side, window seat for Azzi. The hum of the engines filled the space as players settled in with headphones and hoodies.

Azzi leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder again before the seatbelt sign even blinked on. Her body curved instinctively toward her, like muscle memory. Paige didn’t hesitate—just let her rest there, and leaned her cheek against the top of Azzi’s head.

By the time the wheels left the ground, Paige was asleep too.

Three rows ahead, Caroline glanced behind her and grinned. She nudged Nika with her elbow, holding up her phone.

Nika glanced at the screen and stifled a laugh—there it was: Paige and Azzi fast asleep, tangled in that familiar way, Azzi’s hand resting lazily on Paige’s stomach, Paige’s chin against her curls.

Nika shook her head. “Bro, when is Paige gonna ask her out? I know she was too nervous like… a month ago, but now it’s just getting painful.”

Caroline blinked. “Wait—Paige wants to make it official?”

Nika turned toward her slowly, eyebrows raised. “You haven’t heard anything?”

Caroline whispered, “No?? I thought they were still just like… cuddly best friends.”

Nika let out a sigh so dramatic it could’ve passed for a groan. “I gotta talk to Paige, man. This is getting annoying.”

Caroline smirked. “Do it gently. They’re basically married already.”

They both turned around to peek again.

Still asleep. Still tangled.

Still, something more than either of them was saying.

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

The campus had that early-May feeling—warm air rolling through cracked dorm windows, half-packed bags leaning in corners, people pretending finals weren’t as close as they were. The gym had started to empty after lifts, players trading sneakers for slides, and conversations about summer plans echoing off the walls.

Nika tossed her bag over her shoulder and caught up to Paige as they left the weight room, the sun low and gold behind them.

“So…” Nika started, glancing sideways with a smirk. “Any moves on Azzi?”

Paige didn’t miss a beat. “What do you mean?”

Nika gave her a look. “Our conversation? Back in, like… February? Study room? Plane? You being in love and scared?”

Paige paused, then laughed under her breath. “Oh. That.”

Nika scoffed. “Girl, don’t act like you forgot. This ‘in between’ thing you’re doing? Exhausting. I could only do it with Nahiem for, like, two weeks before I lost my mind.”

Paige shrugged, casual as ever. “I might have something up my sleeve.”

Nika perked up immediately. “Wait—what? Spill. Now.”

Paige stretched her arms above her head as they walked, like she had all the time in the world. “Well… I’m staying with my dad in Maryland for the summer. Rehab’s gonna be my full-time job. And since Azzi’s in Virginia…”

Nika blinked. “Yeah?”

“I was thinking… maybe I’d do most of my PT in D.C.,” Paige said, her voice light, but her smile couldn’t quite hide. “And while I’m down there, I take her to a nice dinner. Nothing too crazy.”

Nika grinned. “Cute. Go on.”

“And then,” Paige said, clearly enjoying the buildup now, “I might just happen to have Capitals playoff tickets.”

Nika’s jaw dropped. “Stop.”

Paige smirked. “And I might also have a hotel room booked in the city. Just in case we don’t feel like driving back.”

Nika clutched her chest dramatically. “Paige. You have to do this. This is the moment. Like… if this was a movie, this is the turning point.”

Paige rolled her eyes, feigning indifference. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

She turned and started heading down the hallway toward her room, walking backwards for a beat just to catch Nika’s face.

Nika was practically glowing with secondhand excitement. “No ‘maybe,’ Paige. You’re doing it. No more maybes. No more almosts.”

Paige just waved her off, grinning. “Text me if you survive finals.”

Nika called after her, “You better text me if she says yes!”

Paige didn’t answer—just tossed her a lazy peace sign and disappeared into her room.

Nika rolled her eyes. “She’s so dramatic,” she muttered to herself.

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

Azzi’s dorm room was halfway packed—open suitcases on the floor, a duffel full of sneakers, and her favorite hoodie already tossed on top of a pile of neatly folded shirts. The sun was slanting through the blinds, golden and quiet, and Caroline was sitting cross-legged on Azzi’s bed, rolling pairs of socks like it was her job.

“I still can’t believe it’s already May,” Caroline said, shoving a rolled-up UConn tee into one of Azzi’s bags. “Summer’s about to fly by.”

Azzi zipped up a toiletry pouch and shrugged. “Yeah, it always does.”

Caroline looked up, smiling. “Okay, so—first weekend of July. I’m coming down to visit. Already talked to my parents. You better not ghost me.”

Azzi smirked. “When have I ever ghosted you?”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “When you’re with Paige.”

Azzi threw a hoodie at her, and they both laughed.

Caroline caught it and held it up. “So… we’re still going to Minnesota, right? Visiting Dorka?”

“Yeah,” Azzi said, moving to her closet. “Paige booked our flights last week. I think we’re staying at a hotel right outside the city.”

Caroline grinned. “Aww, how romantic.”

Azzi shot her a look.

Caroline ignored it. “I’m gonna be third-wheeling hard. We should drag Aaliyah along, even the odds.”

Azzi rolled her eyes as she folded another sweatshirt. “Paige keeps treating me like her girlfriend, but she still won’t ask me out.”

Caroline blinked. “Wait—still?”

Azzi sighed. “Yup.”

Caroline dropped a pair of socks in the suitcase and looked up at her deadpan. “Then ask her.”

Azzi didn’t even look up. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Azzi said, zipping her suitcase with more force than necessary, “it’s not supposed to be me. I’m not the one who’s been planning mystery dinners and getting playoff tickets and calling me ‘princess’ for months. If she wants to date me, she can say it.”

Caroline raised her hands. “Okay, okay. I tried. I’m stepping back.”

Azzi shot her a tired smile. “Thanks, though.”

They kept folding and zipping in a comfortable silence, the kind only built over seasons of shared rooms, bus rides, and life lived at full speed.

But beneath it, there was something quieter humming—a question Azzi hadn’t answered yet, and maybe didn’t want to.

Not until Paige finally asked it first.

The air was warm, still clinging to the heat of the day, and the two of them sat side by side on a curb just outside a quiet little ice cream stand on the edge of campus. Their cones were starting to melt just fast enough to be annoying.

Azzi’s was double chocolate fudge. Paige had some chaotic swirl of peanut butter, Oreo, and brownie chunks that she’d claimed was “for recovery.”

“So,” Paige said, licking around the edge of her cone. “I’ll be doing my PT in D.C. pretty much every day once I get back. My dad’s letting me use his place as base camp.”

Azzi nodded, eyes on the sidewalk. “That’s good. You'll be close.”

“Yeah,” Paige said. “Then, like, end of June? We’re still going to your grandparents’ lake house, right? With Nika?”

Azzi grinned. “Yeah, that’s still on. Nika’s already planning games and playlists.”

Paige laughed softly. “Of course she is.”

“Then Caroline said she’s coming down for a weekend in July,” Azzi added, taking a bite of her cone, “so we’ll be around for that.”

“And then Minnesota,” Paige said, “with Dorka. Feels like we’re doing a whole summer tour.”

Azzi chuckled, her voice light. “Caroline was saying she’s gonna be third-wheeling us the whole time. She’s so stupid.”

Paige didn’t laugh. “Yeah.”

Azzi turned slightly. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Paige said quickly, too flat.

Azzi studied her. “You sure?”

“You have some ice cream on your face,” Azzi added, leaning in and wiping a spot off Paige’s cheek with her thumb, gently. She let her fingers linger a moment longer than necessary.

Paige blinked, eyes still on her. “We’re gonna be so busy this summer.”

Azzi leaned back against the brick wall behind them. “That’s just life.”

There was a beat of silence before Paige spoke again, her voice quieter now. “Hey, uh… I got Capitals playoff tickets. For me and you.”

Azzi looked over, surprised. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Paige said. “From one of the NIL guys. I was thinking… maybe we could make a night out of it? Dinner beforehand? They booked me a hotel, since they didn’t know I’d be staying at my dad’s. Figured we could use it either way.”

Azzi blinked, a little thrown. “Oh. Cool.”

“So…?” Paige said, trying to sound chill. “You down?”

Azzi hesitated for just a second too long, then nodded. “Okay. Sure, I guess.”

“Alright,” Paige said, brushing a bit of cookie from her lap. “Sounds like a plan.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the night humming quietly around them—cars rolling by, crickets somewhere in the grass, the faint buzz of summer creeping closer.

Paige stood, tossing her napkin into the trash. “It’s getting late. Let me drive you home.”

Azzi gave her a small smile, standing too. “Okay, Captain.”

They walked toward Paige’s car, ice cream forgotten, shoulders close but not quite touching. Still circling something. Stillwaiting.

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

The screen flickered as Paige adjusted her phone, propping it up against a water bottle while she wiped sweat from her forehead with the hem of her shirt. Her hair was still damp from the brutal PT session she’d just finished, the D.C. sun low and hot outside the rehab facility.

Nika’s face popped up on the screen as the FaceTime call connected, instantly scrunching up at the sight.

“Damn,” Nika said, squinting. “You look rough.”

Paige let out a breathless laugh. “Thanks, queen. Just got done with some PT stuff. Final stages before I start full contact in June.”

“Bet,” Nika nodded. “So… we're stressing over this supposed date night or what?”

Paige tilted her head back against the bench. “Yeah, I don’t know what to wear.”

Nika rolled her eyes. “It’s not a Met Gala. Just wear cargos and a polo for dinner, then change into the Capitals jersey for the game. Easy.”

Paige nodded, clearly half-listening now, her eyes drifting somewhere past the screen.

Nika narrowed hers. “You’re zoning out. It’s not the game that’s stressing you, is it?”

Paige didn’t answer.

Nika raised an eyebrow. “It’s the hotel, isn’t it?”

Paige blinked. “Hmm?”

Nika sighed. “Bro. You and Azzi have sleepovers all the time. What’s different?”

Paige looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. “…I think I’m gonna ask her. Like, officially. To be my girlfriend. At dinner.”

There was a beat of silence before Nika clapped both hands to her cheeks, sarcastic shock written all over her face. “OMG, I never guessed.”

Paige groaned. “Bruh.”

“I’m just saying,” Nika said with a grin. “It’s about damn time. I feel bad for Azzi. She’s been over here waiting for what feels like a year. You’re lucky she’s patient.”

Paige exhaled through her nose, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess. I mean… her family kind of already knows something’s up. Since last summer, really. But I think we’re both ready to be, like… open open. Not just secret-in-the-hallway energy. Even beyond social media.”

Nika’s tone softened. “No, I get that. People don’t need to know everything, but she needs to know where she stands.”

“She will,” Paige said quietly. “I’m gonna make sure she knows.”

Nika yawned, stretching out across her bed. “Alright, it’s getting late over here. I’m crashing. But text me tonight after you get to the hotel, ‘cause it’ll be morning by then.”

Paige gave her a tired smile. “Alright. I got you, twin.”

Nika flashed a peace sign. “Don’t blow it.”

“Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome,” Nika grinned before hanging up.

Paige stared at her blank screen for a moment, letting out a long, steady breath. Then she pushed off the bench, grabbed her bag, and headed toward the locker room, her heart beating just a little faster now.

Paige💗:

don’t forget to pack an overnight bag 👀

Azzi💗:

how could i possibly forget

so unlike you to casually mention we have a hotel tonight 🙄

Paige💗:

alright bro 😐

Azzi💗:

my name’s not bro 

Paige💗:

sorry, princess 👑

Azzi💗:

[Read at 2:36 PM]

Paige💗:

be like that i guess 😒

Azzi💗:

[Read at 2:37 PM]

Paige💗:

you better be ready at 5 when i pick you up

4:50 PM

Paige eased her car into Azzi’s driveway, her hands a little too tight on the steering wheel. She cut the engine, pulled out her phone, and fired off a text.

Paige💗:

i’m outside

Azzi💗:

it isn’t 5 😒

Paige💗:

so?

Azzi💗:

come inside my house big head

Paige smirked, shoved her phone in her pocket, and stepped out of the car. She walked up the familiar path to Azzi’s front door and knocked once before it opened—Katie was already waiting with a knowing smile.

“Wow,” Katie said, tilting her head, eyes dancing. “Who looks so pretty today?”

Paige blushed instantly. “Hi.”

Katie pulled her into a warm hug, rocking her slightly side to side.

Katie kept her hands gently on Paige’s forearms, admiring the subtle geometric pattern on Paige’s pale blue polo. “This is nice. You dress up for my girl or just for the occasion?”

Before Paige could answer—or spiral—Azzi appeared at the top of the stairs, her laugh already floating down the hallway. She was wearing a short denim skirt and a black silk blouse that clung just enough to her toned frame, every inch of her confidence shining.

Paige’s brain stalled. Muscles. Skin. That smirk.

Katie raised an eyebrow. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

���Alright, Mom,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked down the stairs. “We get it.”

Paige cleared her throat, trying to focus. “Let me get your bag.”

“It’s in my room,” Azzi said, brushing past her with a teasing glance that lingered.

As Paige disappeared down the hall, Katie folded her arms and turned to her daughter. “So… is this a date?”

Azzi groaned. “Mom.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Katie replied, looking far too pleased.

Azzi glanced toward the hallway, voice quieter now. “It’s not like we’re hiding it anymore.”

Katie’s tone softened. “I know. And I’m not worried, baby. I’m just… relieved. You deserve to feel free.”

Before her mom could say anything else, she called out, “Paige!”

Paige returned with a small overnight duffel in one hand, eyebrows raised like she knew something was up. “We good?”

Azzi nodded, grabbing her phone and sliding it into her purse. “We’re going.”

They started walking to the door, but Paige shot one last look over her shoulder at Katie, clearly sensing something had passed between them.

Katie just smiled, waving her off. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Paige raised a brow. “Alright then.”

And with that, the door closed behind them.

The sun was starting to dip, the sky stretching out in soft pinks and oranges as Paige opened the passenger door for Azzi.

Tonight was only just beginning.

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

The windows were cracked just enough to let the early summer breeze through as Paige whipped through the streets of D.C., her playlist blaring classic ’90s R&B at full volume.

🎶 “If I ever… fall in love… again…” 🎶

Paige was singing loudly, way off key, eyes bouncing between the road and Azzi as she belted out the next line with an over-the-top falsetto that made Azzi double over laughing.

“Oh my god, stop!” Azzi said, covering her face with her hands, still grinning. “You sound like a dying cat.”

Paige hit the high note anyway, throwing her whole body into the delivery. “I will be sure that the lady is a frieeeeeeeend…”

Azzi leaned her head back against the headrest, shaking it. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“You love it,” Paige shot back, a playful glint in her eye as she turned the music down with a smirk. The car quieted, leaving just the hum of traffic around them.

“So,” Paige said, glancing over. “How we feeling?”

Azzi lifted a brow, feigning confusion. “I don’t know… is something exciting supposed to happen?”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Bruh.”

Azzi gasped. “Oh my god, I’m not your bruh. How many times—”

“Alright, alright,” Paige said, rolling her eyes but smiling. “So we excited for some dinner, princess?”

As they turned onto a sleek brick-lined street, a glowing sign came into view ahead — a high-end steakhouse nestled in the heart of downtown D.C., warm lights twinkling inside.

Azzi looked out the window at the valet waiting near the curb, eyebrows raised slightly.

“I guess so,” she said, her voice quieter now, more curious than sarcastic.

Paige parked and stepped out quickly, walking around to Azzi’s side to open the door for her.

“Let’s eat,” she said, trying to sound casual, but her heart was already racing.

Azzi slid out, brushing against her lightly as she stepped forward, and Paige paused for a beat before falling into step beside her.

Tonight, the game was on.

And Paige was finally ready to take the shot.

The restaurant was cozy in that way that tried to feel effortless, but was probably someone's very calculated vision. Dimlights, exposed brick, flickering candles on every table. Paige had already slouched halfway down her seat, menu tossed aside, while Azzi was still reading the descriptions like she was scanning for a hidden message.

When the waiter arrived, Paige didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll do the ribeye,” she said, practically bouncing in her chair. “Rare. Like, rare rare. I want it almost mooing.”

The waiter gave a polite nod and scribbled.

Azzi barely looked up. “Citrus quinoa salad for me. Dressing on the side.”

Paige whipped her head around to face her. “Ew. Why so healthy? We’re not in season right now! This is our break. You don’t have to pretend you like plants.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Some of us have a long-term relationship with our arteries, Paige.”

Paige mock-clutched her chest. “Wow. That’s rich coming from someone who ate an entire box of Gushers in the locker room last week.”

“That was emotional support Gushers,” Azzi shot back, sipping her water like she was above it all.

Paige leaned in across the table. “Just saying. Salad girl Azzi? During the off-season? It’s a little alarming. Like, blink twice if someone’s holding you hostage.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes and blinked twice, slowly and exaggeratedly. Paige burst out laughing.

The conversation drifted for a bit, half-teasing, half-updates on mutual friends, with the occasional interruption from a waiter refilling their drinks. But somewhere between the breadbasket and the low hum of jazz spilling out from the speakers, Paige got quiet.

Azzi noticed immediately.

“You good?” she asked, nudging Paige’s ankle under the table.

Paige nodded, but she looked like she was working up to something. “Yeah, I’m good. I just… I’ve been thinking.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly. “Dangerous.”

“Shut up,” Paige laughed, but it came out softer than usual. “No, really. About us.”

That made Azzi pause. Her guard went up just a little, shoulders tightening, eyes watching closely.

“I mean, I love this. I love hanging out with you. I love how easy it is. Even when you’re making fun of my protein addiction or calling me dramatic when I clearly have valid emotions.”

Azzi didn’t say anything—just watched.

“And I was just sitting here, watching you order your little leafy green sadness bowl,” Paige went on, “and it hit me. Like, damn. I really don’t want this to be… casual.”

A beat. Two.

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige said, a bit more deliberately now. “I want you to be more girlfriend.”

Azzi blinked.

Paige stared at her, wide-eyed. “Wait, that came out wrong. I mean—my girlfriend. Be my girlfriend. Not like, upgrade your girlfriend stats. I—”

Azzi didn’t move. Just looked at her.

“Say something,” Paige finally muttered.

Azzi tilted her head, eyebrows lifted. “Oh no, I’m just shocked. I mean… finally.” She let out a short laugh. “Honestly, I figured we’d be, like, twenty-six, living in a shared apartment with mismatched furniture, and you’d propose in between bites of French toast at brunch.”

Paige groaned, slumping back in her seat. “Okay, dramatic much.”

Azzi laughed again—bright and easy now—and reached across the table, her fingers curling gently around Paige’s wrist. Her thumb traced a slow circle, grounding them.

“No, seriously,” Azzi said, voice quieter now. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

She smiled. “You’re sweet. Big head.”

Paige smirked—slow and crooked, like she was trying not to smile but couldn’t help it.

“You’re such a nerd,” she muttered.

“And you love it,” Azzi replied, fingers still resting on her wrist.

Paige didn’t deny it.

The inside of Paige’s car smelled like spearmint gum and takeout fries. The windows were cracked just enough to let in the cool D.C. night, carrying the distant echoes of traffic and fans already migrating toward the arena. Paige had one hand on the wheel and the other resting loosely on Azzi’s thigh—fingers drumming idly to the beat of whatever lo-fi playlist she’d thrown on to calm her pre-game nerves. Not for the game—for the night.

Azzi sat in the passenger seat in her red Capitals jersey, the sleeves cuffed to her elbows. Her legs were pulled up slightly, feet on the edge of the seat like she was half-curled in, watching the city blur by outside.

“So,” Paige said, casually but not really. “Still think the salad was the right call?”

Azzi glanced at her. “My arteries are thrilled. My soul, however, is writing complaint letters.”

Paige smirked. “Told you. Off-season’s for indulgence.”

Azzi leaned her head against the window. “Says the girl who was nervously cutting her bread roll into surgical pieces.”

“That’s called emotional restraint,” Paige muttered.

“No, that’s called ‘I’m about to ask my best friend to be my girlfriend and I might throw up all over the appetizer plate,’” Azzi teased, eyes twinkling.

Paige groaned and slapped the steering wheel lightly. “You saw that?”

“You were sweating, Paige.”

“I was glistening.”

“You were spiraling.”

They both laughed, and Paige reached over to poke her in the knee. “Shut up. I did it though.”

“You did,” Azzi said, quieter now. “And it was perfect. Stupid and awkward and very… you.”

The car slowed at a red light, brake lights glowing ahead of them. Paige glanced over.

“You didn’t hesitate.”

Azzi turned her head. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know.” Paige looked down, fingers tightening on the wheel. “Maybe ‘cause I’m a mess. You’re all balance and structure and green smoothies, and I’m—”

“Chaos,” Azzi said, smirking.

“Exactly. Like, if our lives were books, yours would be one of those beautiful hardcovers with gold foil edges and mine would be… a used copy of Percy Jackson with gum on page 42.”

Azzi laughed, then reached over, gently tugging on Paige’s sleeve.

“I like chaos. I like your chaos.”

“Even when it’s loud and messy and inconvenient?”

“Especially then.”

The light turned green. Paige didn’t move for a second. She just looked at Azzi, who was staring at her like she was something worth staring at. Then she smiled, slow and crooked.

“God, you’re good at that.”

“At what?”

“Saying the exact right thing in the exact right moment.”

Azzi shrugged, leaning back. “Only when I mean it.”

They kept driving, the arena drawing closer. Red jerseys on every corner, vendors waving foam fingers, the whole city vibrating with playoff tension. The kind of night you remember by how it felt more than what happened.

Paige turned down the music.

“You ever think about the fact that we could’ve never gotten here?”

Azzi looked over, caught off-guard by the sudden weight in Paige’s voice.

“Like, if we never admitted it,” Paige went on. “If we just kept dancing around each other forever. Teammates. Friends. Flirty-but-not. All those dumb, blurry lines.”

“I do think about it,” Azzi said. “And then I stop. Because we did get here. You asked. I said yes. And now you’re driving ten miles under the speed limit and holding my leg like I’m gonna float away.”

Paige grinned. “That’s fair.”

A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot. Paige shut off the engine, but neither of them moved.

The arena lights glowed just ahead, and the muffled sound of the crowd rumbled through the air like a living thing. Paige looked over at Azzi again, like she was taking inventory of something she still couldn’t believe was hers.

“I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” she admitted, voice barely above the hum of the engine cooling.

Azzi reached over and took her hand again. “Then don’t.”

“That simple, huh?”

“No,” Azzi said, leaning in just slightly. “It’s not simple. But I’ve seen you go 4-for-18 and still hit the shot that won the game. So yeah, I trust you.”

Paige stared at her.

Then laughed, the sound loud and warm and a little disbelieving. “God, you’re cheesy.”

“Yeah,” Azzi whispered, brushing her lips against Paige’s cheek. “But you’re mine now. So you have to deal with it.”

Paige didn’t say anything. She just kissed her. Quick. Sure. Then opened the car door like she hadn’t just lit her whole heart on fire in the front seat.

“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s go scream about hockey.”

Azzi followed, grabbing Paige’s hand again as they joined the crowd heading toward the arena. Under the lights. In their jerseys. With all that fear and hope and ridiculous love burning between them like they were walking into the playoffs of their own hearts.

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

The arena was electric. Red lights flashed across the crowd like sirens, the rumble of cheers rising and falling with every pass, every hit, every near miss. Paige and Azzi had killer seats—close enough to see the sweat on players’ faces, far enough to avoid being pelted by a rogue puck.

Paige was in heaven. She stood half the time, yelling at every power play like she was behind the bench, fists pumping, voice already cracking by the second period. Azzi, meanwhile, leaned back in her seat, watching Paige with the same amused look she gave her when Paige tried to parallel park—equal parts fond and terrified.

Halfway through the third period, the arena lights dimmed for a moment, and the JUMBOTRON camera landed right on them.

A split second of confusion—and then Paige saw themselves on the screen.

“YO!” Paige’s shout cracked midway through. She grabbed Azzi’s hand, lifted it over both their heads, and waved wildly. “Hey! It’s us!”

The caption below their faces read:

“Women’s basketball royalty in the house 👑 Paige Bueckers & Azzi Fudd!”

Azzi smiled politely and gave a cute little wave. Paige, naturally, leaned into the moment—hands in the air like she’d just hit a buzzer-beater.

When the screen cut away, Paige dropped into her seat, face flushed and buzzing. “Did you see that?! We’re basically part of the team now. Like, honorary fourth line or something.”

Azzi laughed. “You’re gonna be insufferable.”

“I am insufferable. That’s my thing.”

By the final buzzer, Paige had screamed herself hoarse. She could barely speak above a raspy whisper, but that didn’t stop her from trying. All the way out of the arena, through the crowded streets and back to the car, she was still going—voice cracking, hands flying, retelling plays like Azzi hadn’t just watched every second with her.

“I swear,” Paige whispered with gravel in her throat, “that third-period penalty kill? Legendary. Like, I need to analyze it later. Freeze-frame breakdown.”

Azzi just hummed beside her, snuggled deeper into the hoodie she’d thrown on, body folded toward the window like she’d finally let go of the adrenaline. By the time they hit the freeway, Paige glanced over mid-rant and realized—Azzi was asleep. Head tilted slightly. One hand in her lap, the other still loosely resting between them.

Paige smiled so hard it hurt.

She reached over and gently turned down the music—some chill synth beat now barely audible—then slid her hand over to Azzi’s thigh, fingers drawing soft circles there like a habit. The city lights passed in glows and shadows, each oneflickering across Azzi’s face like slow movie frames.

They pulled into the hotel valet line a while later. Paige shifted into park, glanced around, then looked back at Azzi—still asleep, lips slightly parted, her hand now resting on Paige’s knee like she’d moved there without even waking up.

Paige bit her lip, reached for her phone, and snapped a quick photo. Azzi’s face soft in the overhead light, her hand on Paige, their jerseys still on like kids who’d just come from recess.

She opened up her texts and sent it to Nika.

Photo attached.

Caption: mission success 🫡🏒💘

The valet tapped on the window a second later, and Paige gently nudged Azzi awake with her thumb tracing one last circle.

“Hey,” she whispered, grinning. “Come on, hockey girlfriend. We made it.”

Azzi blinked awake, groggy and warm, and without even thinking, laced her fingers with Paige’s again.

And yeah—Paige still couldn’t really talk.

But she didn’t need to.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (7)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“You were right about the mac and cheese,” you say as you wipe your mouth with a napkin. 

S glances over with a smile. “You liked it?” 

“Sure do,” you tap the side of the plate. “But it’s too much for me. I could save the rest.” 

“Sure,” he gets up and crosses the room. He moves the cover back over your dish. 

“Oh, thank,” you say as you set the used napkin on the tray. You quickly catch a yawn in your hands. “Oof, I’m sorry. Woke up early for the doctor.” You rub your eyes and blink at him. “I’m not very fun company, am I?” 

“You’re... calming,” he says. “All the people I deal with... they’re always performing.” He tilts his head and gives a sardonic look. “It’s been nice to get away.” 

“Must be. Even to somewhere like here,” you swallow another yawn, blinking big until your eyes water. You flick away the moisture. 

“You made it worth it,” he lingers close. “If you’re tired, lay down. I don’t mind.” 

“That’s not fair,” you try not to show how tempting the offer is. “Coming over just to knock out.” 

“Go ahead. I’ve barely used the bed,” he points to the open French doors that lead to the bedroom. “I tend to sleep in intervals.” He clucks. “Buddy calls it strategic napping.” 

“Can’t be very restful,” you say. 

“Guess not but sometimes I don’t have eight hours to spare,” he taps his toe. “Please, go lay down. You look beat.” 

You give a sheepish smile. Why does he care so much? Another thorn digs in. 

“S?” 

“You been caring for your mom. Let me care for you,” he puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. He slowly draws away. 

You look down, “twist my arm.” You stand up slowly. “Don’t let me sleep too long. Just an hour or two.” 

“Alright,” he agrees. “I’ll get some work done.” 

You hesitantly move around him. It’s awkward. It’s just another thing you’re taking from him. His bed, his time... Won’t he get tired of that sooner than later? 

You stop and turn back to him. 

“S?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he glances at his phone, his eyes crinkling at what he reads. 

“Can I... give you a hug?” 

He puts his phone on the table and faces you. “You don’t gotta ask.” 

He opens his arms. You slowly unfold yours and step closer. It felt like a good idea but now it’s a bit... tense. You wrap your arms around him and he closes you in his. You shiver at the warmth seeping from him into you. 

“Thank you,” you press your cheek to his chest. “Really, I can’t say it enough.” 

He keeps one arm firmly hooked around you as his other hand rubs your back. The soothing motion makes your skin prickle. He squeezes. 

“No problem, sweetie.” He rocks you slightly. 

You stay like that, too embarrassed and too afraid to break too soon. 

“Alright, I think... I might fall asleep on my feet,” you ease from his hold and his hands brush along the robe as he pulls back. 

“Yeah, go, sleep,” he pivots away. “I gotta answer this before he sends another damn email.” 

He snatches up his phone and turns away. He mutters under his breath. You back up and watch how his shirt tautens across his shoulders. You spin and tiptoe into the bedroom. 

You can worry when you wake up. Right now, you’re just too tired to keep track of all your doubts. 

🦋

You wake with a start. You’re on your stomach, arm beneath the pillow you have your face buried in. Your head is cloudy as you lift it and your lashes stick together before you can pry them apart. You roll over and the sight of the dark window sends you into a panic. 

You kick away the blankets and scramble out of bed. You hurry to the doors, the left one left open just a crack, and you pull it open. S sits at the table, a pair of glasses on as he has a laptop open. You have no time to process the seen as you scurry out. 

“S, it’s late,” you cheep. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” 

He calmly looks up and smooths the creases from his forehead. He pushes his shoulders wide and takes of his glasses. He puts them beside the keyboard of the table. 

“I tried to wake you up,” he says. “You were so tired. I could get you to do more than roll over...” 

His voice trails off as his eyes fall down. You follow his gaze. Shoot. The robe hangs open, exposing your naked legs. You quickly pull it around you, hot from your accusation and accidental flash. 

“Um, I’m sorry to... I didn’t... I...” You sputter. 

“You slept heavy. Probably a bit disorienting waking up here. You’re not used to it,” he shrugs. “I really did try but... seems like you needed the sleep.” 

“Right, I... it was nice but...” 

“You can call your mom. Let her know maybe you got backed up at your new job?” He suggests coolly. He’s a fast thinker. You’re a terrible liar. The type that adds too much detail when a simple explanation will do. 

“Sure, I can let her know I’m gonna be home soon.” You agree and look around. 

You find your phone on the arm of the sofa. You don’t remember leaving it there but you can’t really remember when you last had it. You take it and head for the bedroom. 

“You can always stay. It’s pretty late.” 

“What would I tell her? I’m working overnight?” 

“You’re an adult, aren’t you?” He challenges. 

You flinch. 

“Sure, but... no, I should go home. She needs me.” 

“Uh huh,” he picks his glasses back up and exhales. “Well, now she’s not the only one that does.” 

You blink as your brow crinkles. You turn away before he can catch you chagrined expression. You go into the bedroom and lean on the bed as you dial out. 

Your mom doesn’t pick up. You sniff as the tone for the voicemail beeps. “Hey mom, sorry I didn’t message sooner. I got tied up. Anyway, I’ll be home soon...love you.” 

You hang up and drop your arm. You stare at the window. You don’t remember anything, not even your dreams. Not even him trying to get you up. You’re embarrassed to hink about that. 

You go back out. 

“Um, I’ll need my pants,” you say sheepishly. 

“Hung them up in the bathroom,” he says without looking away from the computer. His posture is tense. 

“Look, I’m sorry if... i wasn’t meaning to accuse you--” 

“I’ve been really honest with you,” he says. “I’d say extremely. Not a lot of people would be so transparent. You know, a guy like me, he’s supposed to have an easy life. Well, it’s not.” 

“I’m... I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry, I just wish you would trust me.” 

You stand in static silence. The guilt ripples over you. Not only has he been honest, he’s been so generous. You think of today and how he so easily promised all of that money. Even after when you showed him the pamphlet, showed him how tedious it would all be. He said yes. 

“I will. I do,” you say at last. “Um, one sec.” 

You cross the room to the bathroom and dip inside. You open the robe and hang it and pull on your pants. You can still feel the residue of rain in them. Oh well. 

You come back out. “I can call a cab. You seem busy.” 

“I’ll drive,” he assures you as he closes the laptop. “Told you, I’m taking care of you. Of everything.” 

“I know. Thank you so much.” You clasp your hands together. “Really, S, I can’t say it enough.” 

He slides his glasses off again and stands up. He puts them in the case behind the computer and snaps it shut. He stretches his arms over him. 

“Come back tomorrow,” he says. “I made us some reservations.” 

“Reservations?” You repeat. “Well, S, I... I’ve been calling in and... if I keep doing that--” 

“Quit.” He looks agitated. “You don’t need those jobs. That’s the deal. I’m gonna cover everything.” 

You nod as your stomach stirs. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” His mouth slants. “It’s what we’ve been talking about. You working all the time, well, I got a lot going on. We’d never get to see each other and I mean, I’ve already missed a lot too.” 

You chew your lip. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.” 

“It’s new. For both of us. I get it,” he softens his tone and comes closer. “You’re so used to working and doing everything, it’s hard to let go. I’m the same way.” 

“Yeah...” you murmur. “I’m really sorry if I upset you, S."

“You didn’t,” he assures you as he reaches to caress your arm. “You can’t. I just... I get in work mode and the boss face comes out.” He chuckles and slips his hand across your back and angles you toward the door, “let’s get you home. I promise, I’ll try to get more than just a few hours before tomorrow.” 

🦋

You watch the streetlights pass, the glare tinging your eyes, tweaking the fatigue still nestled behind them. You yawn as the car whirs softly. It’s almost peaceful in the empty streets. 

S drives smoothly through the town. He knows it better now. He keeps to the speed limit, taking his time. Or maybe he’s just tired. 

He rolls up to your building and shifts into park. He sighs. “I’ll miss you.” 

You look at him, “really? I feel like I kind of overstayed my welcome.” 

“Trust me, you can’t,” he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he twists in his. “You not having fun?” 

“No, of course, it’s just new and... I guess I’m not used to it yet. The... trying not to worry part.  My mom is still...” you shake your head. “I’m going to stop that.” You look at him. “S, thank you. Really. I did have a good day even if I slept for most of it.” 

“You needed that,” he says as his hand slips onto your shoulder. “You, more than anyone, has every right to be tired.” His thumb rubs you. “Sweetheart, we’re just adjusting to each other and that’s fine.” 

“Sure,” you flutter your fingers in your lap. “Right, just... gotta be patient.” 

“Yeah, patient,” his hand inches closer to your neck. “Sweetheart... can I ask you something?” 

“Okay,” you try not to focus on his touch but your skin is all speckly from it. 

“Can I have a kiss?” 

Your lips part slightly. You close them quickly. You’re surprised but you shouldn’t be. Deep down, you know it’s inevitable. Despite what he says, you have that gnawing certainty in your head. You can’t just keep taking. And it’s going to be more than just a kiss, isn’t it? 

Right now, you can do a kiss. 

“Um,” your cheeks tauten and burn. “S-sure. I can--” 

“Only if you really want to,” he pets your neck with his knuckles. “But I can tell you I really, really want to.” 

You take a breath and undo your seat belt. You’re slow and deliberate in your movement as you angle around in the chair. His hand opens and cradles your jaw, fingers framing your ear. He leans in and you meet him across the space between your sets. 

Your lips meat and his heat floods into you. His fingers curl against your head and he hums. His tongue pokes out gently and you resist. Your chest is somersaulting. 

You part and sit back in the chair. You put your hand to your chest. “I’m sorry, it’s just—been a while.” You look down and cover your mouth. You drop your hand. “Was that... okay?” 

“It was... great,” he rasps. “And uh, been a while for me too.” 

“Really?” You glance at him, face alight with self-consciousness. 

“Oh, sure. Like I said... haven’t been out on the dating scene much. When I’ve tried, well, It’s just not... genuine, you know?” He clucks and pokes his tongue into his cheek. He smiles and looks you in the eye. “That was perfect. I’ll be thinking about it all night.” 

“You will?” 

“Of course,” he winks. “What about you?” 

Your cheeks pinch and you smile. It’s been a long time since you felt anything but anxiety and doom. That was something else. You can’t quite explain what. It just wasn’t as scary as you thought. You need one thing that isn’t utterly terrifying. 

“Yeah, I think...” you look away. “It’s... it was nice.” 

“Good,” he drags his hand down your arm. “Well, have a good night.” 

“You too,” you grab your purse and pull on the door handle. “Oh, what time tomorrow?” 

“Let me know, sweetie, I don’t need you til noon,” he answers. 

“Cool, um, bye.” 

You get out and walk towards the yellow light above the building entrance. You stop to look back. He’s still there. You’re glad. You hate being out this late. 

You enter the apartment quietly. The front room light is on. You put your stuff down and sanitize your hands. You find your mother on the couch, sleeping as she hugs a pillow. 

You hope she wasn’t waiting up for you. All that fuzziness fades. The dull weight settles back into your chest. 

You tiptoe around, careful not to wake her. You know she doesn’t get as much sleep as she should. You retreat to your room and flick on the light. 

You plug in your phone as the battery flashes. As you pull off your shirt, you hear something. A soft whisper. You go to the hamper and peer through the mesh. The butterflies. Two of them have hatches and they’re happily fluttering around inside. 

You smile. A real smile. They’re so beautiful. Black, red, and white. And they’re alive. It was taking so long, you thought they wouldn’t break free. 

You’ll have to find some fruit in the fridge to leave in there for them until you can release them. First, you’re going to take a photo. Everyone will be so excited to see. 

You get a good shot through the top before they try to escape. You’ll have to go down to the cafe to post in the morning. You really can’t wait to show S. 

You sit on your bed and watch the butterflies. It’s a sign, isn’t it? Not everything is dead. It’s not over. Maybe, things are just beginning. 

[allthingsfangirl101]

Look At His Face – Tyler Owens

Tyler's POV

"Thank you," I smiled as I took the keys from the girl behind the front desk. I turned around and instantly bumped into a beautiful girl my age.

"Sorry about that, darling."

"No worries, cowboy."

"Cowboy?" I asked.

She laughed as she reached up and tapped my hat. "Point taken," I chuckled. "So what brings you to Oklahoma?"

"Just passing through," she shrugged.

"Yeah? What's your final destination?" I asked, to keep her talking to me.

"New York."

"The big city," I smirked.

"You got something against cities, small town boy?"

"It's based on what you're used to," I shrugged as I put my hands in my back pockets.

"That it is," she chuckled as she walked by me. When she passed, I got a whiff of vanilla and strawberry. She talked to the girl at the front desk and got her room key. I wanted to stay to catch her name, but Boone called me over.

"Tyler! Where are you at?"

"Coming," I yelled over my shoulder. The girl looked over her shoulder and smiled at me. "It was nice to bump into you," I teased.

"Maybe we'll bump into each other again," she paused before adding, "Tyler."

I watched her as she grabbed her key and walked out. Right as she got to the door, she turned around and said, "Let me guess, cowboy. You were surprised to see the cells to the west choke each other out, weren't you?"

My mind was still trying to connect the dots as she walked out. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to snap out of it. As I walked back to my group, I kept looking back at the check-in office.

"What's with you?" Lily asked when I joined them.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I handed out the room keys.

"Yeah," Dex smirked. "You walked over here with this. . . look on your face."

"In fact," Boone elongated, "you walked out of the office with this cheeky smirk on your face." We all jumped when he gasped loudly. "You met a girl!"

"No, I didn't," I instantly pushed off. I walked past them and headed to the truck. I grabbed my bag and headed up to my room. I kept the door open like I usually do as I got myself settled. I walked out of the bathroom to see Boone sitting on my bed.

"Last I checked," I sighed, leaning against the small fridge, "I got you your own room, Boone."

"Tell me about her."

"Who?" I stuttered, trying to brush this off.

"The girl you met in the office earlier," Boone explained. "Who is she?"

I sighed and looked away. I turned my focus to my shoes as I slowly answered him. "I don't know, to be honest."

"How the hell do you not know?" Boone laughed.

"I didn't get her name," I sighed. "I turned around after checking in and instantly bumped into her. We talked for thirty seconds before you called me over."

"Sorry about that," he smirked.

"About what?"

Boone walked past me as he left my room. As he passed, he patted me on the back and laughed, "Sorry about taking you from that girl."

* * * * *

A few hours later, the little gathering was a full-on party in the parking lot. People were drinking, playing music, and exchanging stories. I was drinking a lot slower than the rest of my team.

I lifted my second beer to my lips and instantly froze when I saw Y/N leave her room. She walked out and leaned against the railing. When her eyes landed on me, she smirked and slowly lifted her hand and waved.

I forced myself to tear my eyes away from her as she walked downstairs and joined the party. Every once in a while, I found myself searching the crowd for her. She seemed to talk to everyone here.

My group was exchanging "war stories" as I was on top of the truck fixing some of our systems that got taken out by that last storm.

"Yeah," Boone was laughing. "We did it."

"Here we go, now we gotta top it," Dani smirked. Out of the corner of my eyes, I caught Y/N heading up to her room.

"City girl," I called out to her. My team laughed.

"The cells to the west will choke each other out," I restated what she said to me in the office. "That's what you said."

"I did," she shrugged. "My guess is even the one to the east didn't throw you off the scent."

"Hey," Boone defended me before I could stop him, "that's what makes Tyler famous."

"You mean on YouTube?" She smirked.

"Uh, yeah," Boone chuckled. "Yeah, we're on the YouTube. We got what? About a million subscribers now, huh?"

"Yes, sir!" Lily laughed as she pointed at him, but kept fiddling with her latest project.

"What's your name?" Ben asked her. "Just in case I include you in my piece."

"Y/N," she said, glancing at me.

"Surname?" Ben pushed.

"Just Y/N," she instantly responded. My chest felt weird when I noticed her slightly shift.

"She's a tricky one," I tried to tease to get her to relax.

"Actually," Boone said, sending me a look over his shoulder before continuing, "you made a good call with what you told Tyler earlier. The other cell looked stronger, but cap never broke."

"What's a cap?" Ben asked.

"It's a temperature inversion in the mid part of the lower atmosphere," Y/N explained. "It inhibits a storm from forming."

She looked past Ben, her eyes instantly landing on me. Whatever expression I had on my face made Y/N's face turn light pink.

"Right," Ben said slowly. "Okay. Good."

"Where did you guys all meet?" She asked, her eyes scanning the group. "Did you study meteorology at the U of A?"

Y/N's facial expression dropped as everyone started laughing. When she looked at me, I sent her an apologetic smile and a small shrug. I went back to fixing our truck as they continued talking.

"All right, Y/N, me?" Boone started. "You know, I just flow with the wind. You know what I'm saying? Yeah, I never went to, like, school or nothing. But Tyler? Tyler studied meteorology, though."

"You did?" She asked, glancing at me.

"Yeah," Boone answered for me. "He's a real cowboy scientist. He's got this natural instinct."

"Okay, Boone," I sighed.

"He taught me everything I know so. . ."

"Boone," I cut him off. I slightly cleared my throat before looking over at Y/N.

"My crew's not like most crews, Y/N. We don't need PhDs and fancy gadgets to do what we do. I guarantee you these guys have seen more tornadoes than anyone else in this lot combined."

"Is that right?" She smirked.

"Do you think there's a chance we'll see one tomorrow?" Ben asked Y/N.

"Oh yeah," Boone answered for her. "Outbreak, baby."

I rolled my eyes when he yipped. I looked over at Y/N and said, "You know, if you can keep up, we'll put you in the episode."

"Wow," she sarcastically laughed.

"Do you chase?" Ben asked.

"No," she said, but there was something in her eyes that said there was more to that simple answer than we thought. "I used to."

"Used to?" Ben asked.

"Things happen," Y/N tried to shrug off.

"What kind of. . ." I crushed my empty beer can and tossed it at him, cutting him off. When he looked up at me, I shook my head.

"If you were still chasing, where would you chase tomorrow?" Lily asked, helping Y/N by changing the subject.

"Oh no. No, no, no. You see, Y/N's from New York," I teased. "Can't trust a thing she says."

"Well, you can always trust a guy who puts his face on a t-shirt." She sent me a wink and walked up to her motel room. I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes.

"Man," Boone laughed. "Man, that was good."

"Awwww," Lily cooed. "Look at his face!"

"Shut up," I said, instantly putting on a glare and turning away from Y/N. I walked past my team, hoping my face wasn't as red as it felt.

Luckily, my friends let it drop. Or so I thought.

I jumped off the truck and put my toolbox in the back. When I shut the truck door, Lily was standing there.

"What?" I asked.

"You were starstruck," she teased.

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/N," she said slowly.

"What about her?" I asked, clearing my throat.

"You like her," she smirked.

"She was. . . I mean, she seems cool," I stuttered.

"You should go talk to her," she said, teasingly pushing me. "Invite her back down here. Or, better yet, invite her to walk around that nearby park."

"We're in the middle of chasing," I brushed off. I tried to walk away, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Ty," she said gently, "you never let anyone in."

"What are you talking about?" I challenged. "I let people in. I talk to you guys all the time.

"That's not the same, and you know it," she sighed. "Whenever we run into a girl you're interested in, which is rarely, you have one conversation with her and then instantly push her away."

"I do not," I scoffed. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me in a way that made it clear that she knew I was lying. "Fine," I gave in. "But it doesn't matter, alright? I can't date right now. I need to be focused so I can bring you all back alive. I need to be focused on chasing."

"You know, Ty," she sighed, "there is such a thing as too focused. Especially when it's on the wrong thing."

* * * * *

I looked around to see my team officially too drunk to realize I was gone. I grabbed two beers and snuck up to the second floor of the motel. It wasn't until I knocked on her door that I realized how creepy this was.

Right as I was about to leave, she opened her door. "Tyler?"

"Hi," I said, sounding a lot more insecure than I had wished.

"What can I do for you?" She asked with a small smirk on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorway.

"I thought you'd like a drink," I shrugged as I showed her the beers I'd brought. My stomach dropped when her smirk fell.

"I don't drink," she admitted. "But I could go for some pizza."

"On it."

This time, when I returned to Y/N's motel room, I didn't hesitate. I walked right up to the door and knocked. She soon opened the door, a small chuckle left her lips.

"You're back."

She laughed when I showed her the pizza. I ignored the feeling in my gut when she stepped aside and smirked at me. I sent her a wink as I walked into her motel room. As I sat across from her and we ate the pizza, I realized this would be the scariest thing I've ever chased.

[beef-brisket]

After a moment, Adam glared at him: You let me eat food from that crazy cunt? Really, Luci?

The first man squeaked when Lucifer ran over and wrapped his arms tightly around him and cried loudly into Adam's shoulder.

Lucifer: I'm so sorry!

Adam: Uh- man, it's not THAT big of a deal-! I was kidding!

Lucifer: I don't mean for letting you eat what Alastor cooked- well, I do- but I'm also sorry about everything else! Since- forever! I-I hurt you! So badly- then I acted like an asshole towards you-! All because of some bullshit lies! I'm- fuck- I'm so sorry... I... I want you to stay with me- I know I should have told Sera- but I didn't want you to leave! I want you to stay so badly!

Adam sighed and wrapped his arms around Lucifer, rubbing his back as he cried: I know- I... I'll stay, okay? I'll stay with you.

Lucifer: Really-? I'll make everything up to you- eveything! Anything you want, I'll do it!

Adam: Just... maybe not tell everyone I'm me again... I have a feeling they won't be too cool with me, now...

Lucifer: I- I can do that- you can come back to my place! I'll- look after you- cook for you- anything-!

Adam: Babe, as much as I love people doing shit for me... I don't want you to do that. You've had to look after me for a while, now... and I'm not a kid. Not anymore.

Lucifer pulled away and looked down at Adam: Oh... uh- then what do you want?

Adam: Uh... fuck, this is going to sound gay- but... I just want you. To stay with me... if you want.

The king smiled down at Adam: I can do that. Definitely!

Charlie: Adam? Have you seen dad-? Oh! I uh... guess you have.

The two froze and turned to Charlie, who quickly smiled at the two: Oh, look at you guys! Hugging! That's ADORABLE! I bet you're happy to get a hug from dad, Adam!

The two glanced at each other before looking back at Charlie. Then, Adam smiled as sweetly as possible: I love it, Charlie!

The king jumped when Adam's arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him close: U-Uh- Charlie- Adam isn't feeling well- we may stay up here for dinner-.

Charlie: "Not well?!" Oh, Adam! That isn't good! What's wrong?!

The first man flinched slightly as Charlie pressed her hand against his forehead: Oh my god- you're definitely hot...

Adam: Yeah, I am~.

The king pinched Adam's arm, making him jump just as Charlie pulled her hand away.

Charlie: I'll go grab you some water and medication! Dad, keep an eye on him!

Lucifer: Oh, I will, sweetie!

Come the princess left and closed the door, Lucifer growled: Don't you ever say something like that to my daughter!

Adam: It was a joke, bitch! And she didn't even notice!

Lucifer: Not the point, Adam! She's a baby!

Adam: She's 206 years old.

Lucifer: See? Baby.

In Your Head

Lucifer sighed as he held the guitar that he took from the battlefield. It was Adams guitar and aside from a few scratches it looked like it was in perfect condition.

Lucifer: I'm going to miss you old friend.

Though, was friend the right word? Adam was so much more than a friend to Lucifer.

Watching him get stabbed like that had been very hard.

Was it though?

Lucifer snapped his head up, eyes wide as he looked at the angel he thought to be long dead, his helmet gone and golden blood staining his robe.

Lucifer: A-Adam? What, how are you here!?

Adam smiled at him and it was too sweet for the Adam of today the one that he turned into. But not the Adam he knew in Eden.

Adam: Oh come on Luci, you're smarter than that. No one comes back from an angelic blade to the heart. Thanks for that by the way.

That nickname sliced through his core, he hadn't heard it in so long he almost forgot that's what Adam used to call him.

Lucifer: You're not real are you?

Adam: Bingo baby! Awww, it's actually sweet. You miss me so much that I actually take up space in that head of yours.

Lucifer: Why are you so..... Nice? But look like that?

Adam shrugged and moved to sit down beside him: Probably because you don't really remember what I looked like in Eden, but more how I acted. So you just kinda...... Married the past with the present. I don't know boo, it's your mind.

Lucifer felt Adam touch his hair as if to tuck it behind his ear, but since he wasn't real the hand just went right through him.

Lucifer: I don't get it, you weren't like this in Eden.

Adam: Maybe I'm a version you've always wanted.

That made sense in a way.

Lucifer: Why would I want a polite slightly flirty version of you?

Adam smiled gently and leaned in: Come on Luci, you know why. Stop lying to yourself.~

His breath hitched in his throat, sure he had always thought about what could have been between them but...... It was always just a fantasy.

Adam: A fantasy you could have made real.~

Lucifer: You didn't want me.

Adam: How would you know? You never asked or tried. You could have had me all to yourself.

Lucifer: I could have?

Adam: Yeah. But now you never will.

@fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket

[ronearoundblindly]

Cozy

platonic Bucky Barnes x Alpine!Reader Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Reader

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Summary: After months of 'knowing' Alpine, Steve and Bucky get to see, hear, and touch you, the real you, for the first time.

Warnings for subtlety and incomplete discussions. They're breezing over some of the deeper stuff since everyone is carefully trying to get to know each other. Forgive them their awkwardness...and my lack of editing. I stuck very close to my standard of "IT'S JUST CUTE, FLUFFY PUNS" which is likely a warning at this point. WC 1.3k

“You cold? Hungry? Thirsty?”

His forgiving, light hold anchors you in place like lead. Steve’s warmth is radiant, heavy without mass or malice. Somehow the weight of expectant words has you tongue-tied as he sits up at the ready.

He’s whispering a long list of possibilities. “I could get you some water. Or coffee? Or do you prefer tea? Have you eaten anything since yesterday?” He reaches for the untouched pile of clothes on the table, reminding you to tuck the blanket tighter around your chest. “I should have brought you clothes,” he mutters absently.

“And how would you—“ Bucky grunts and stretches his neck without opening his eyes yet “—pick out clothes for her?”

“I got a good enough look,” Steve says simply and instantly. “It’s…a skill from my stage days.” He shifts out from under your legs, blushing. “Dancers talk about their sizes all the time, so…let me get you that water, babygi—oh god, I’ve—I forgot your—”

Bucky snorts. “Know her bust and hip measurements but not her name, eh, punk? Oh yeah, you’ve got your priorities straight.”

“I’m just trying to be nice!”

“I need coffee,” Bucky groans, standing. “Guess I’m still the only one using their thumbs in this house.”

You playfully slap his leg, and Bucky jumps in faux hurt.

“Yikes, that’s worse than your angry-tail…Everyone want food? Great.”

“I can do it,” Steve rushes to help.

Perhaps because you’ve never spoken a word in this apartment, perhaps because they’ve never expected to hear you speak, perhaps because…they really, really want to make you some sort of drink in a human container, the men leave for the kitchen and continue to argue.

You look around at the bizarre and tiny difference in the room from your new perspective. The couch is large and deep but doesn’t swallow you whole anymore. The coffee table is not at a height you need to prepare for scaling. The plants are—still in need of water. Why can’t Bucky keep these things alive without you?!

Your fingers feel cramped, still clutching the blanket, so you scoop up the pile of clothing, wrap the throw around your back and skitter off to the bathroom, horrified to find there are bits of leaf stuck in your hair from last night. Once you see them, the grit smeared on your skin makes itself known, and you can’t imagine pulling borrowed clothing overtop this mess.

Fast as you can, you’re in the shower, scrubbing, willing yourself to finish using Bucky’s water and his shampoo and his soap, nervous about using resources you hadn’t before and never asked about and wouldn’t have needed one-tenth this amount of just yesterday.

You hum to soothe yourself. It’s why you purred even when Bucky wasn’t home. It never mattered before that you did. Then the humming becomes gentle singings. You thought you were still so quiet.

In total, no reasonable food could be completely cooked in the same stretch you were in the bathroom, but you exit to find both men staring from the other end of the hall.

Steve wears an expression of great admiration.

“You have a lovely voice,” he says with a smile.

Bucky frown, looking down at the sweats he gave you. “We should have let you go shopping, Stage Boy.”

“They’re great. It’s no big deal. I’m sorry to be a bother.”

Both of them step closer immediately at the first proper words they’ve ever heard from you.

“You’re not a bother, doll,” Bucky insists while Steve blurts, “you look great.”

Bucky flashes his pal ferocious side-eye, something you like to think you taught him over the last few months.

“Cozy,” Steve corrects. “You look cozy. It’s great that you’re cozy.”

All you can manage is a shrug and crossing your arms over your chest, maneuvering around the baggy shirt.

“Breakfast?”

The sizzling of something in a pan wafts to your less-sensitive ears, and the impulse to raise your head and sniff takes you by surprise. You’ll be doing that for days, at least, moving like a cat, and you wonder how stupid it must look to them.

You nod instead of reply and stalk toward the kitchen.

Bucky, however, does nod.

“Good girl,” he mutters, taking a sip of his coffee and stopping mid-swallow. The gulp is deafening. “Sorry…”

Nobody responds. All three of you exchange glances, but they aren’t familiar with your body language as you so Steve and Bucky just end up staring.

“You know what,” Bucky breaks the silence, “I’m gonna get my part of the debrief out of the way.” He chugs the rest of his mug. “You wanna check that, Steve—“ Bucky ticks his head to the growing aggression of the popping pan “—while I say ‘bye?’”

Steve, though clearly annoyed at the dismissal, steps away.

“You okay if he’s here? Would you rather be alone for a bit?” Bucky watches the last drops of coffee wriggle around.

“No, I…”

It’s weird to want so much from them and yet be so afraid of saying so. Yesterday, you could walk all over them, literally, and now treading on eggshells in the same room seems risky.

“How did you know my name?” you finally whisper.

“Well,” Bucky sighs, “I did think Alpine was a cat—your family cat—which you might come ‘round to find eventually. I kept the photo your father handed out, just in case, but…” and this part he goes very, very quiet for “…I’ve made people go missing. I know what it does to families. I want you to be happy here—or wherever,—it’s just—“

He looks over his shoulder at Steve.

You say it for him. “I can’t be cozy forever if I’m always running away.”

Bucky bites his lip. “Damn. Nat was right. You’re one smart lady.”

“With great hair,” you add on instinct.

His laugh is loud and unguarded.

Bucky plunks his mug down, grabs his keys, and turns to you at his dying chuckle.

“May I?” His arms open for a hug, and you press yourself in like you used to fall with your whole feline weight. Bucky nuzzles into your hair like he used to, too, giving your temple a kiss.

It feels normal though you’ve never felt it this way before.

“Don’t tease him too much,” Bucky warns, releasing you to stand straight. “He’s not usually this…No, he is always like this. Heart on his sleeve. He just wasn’t expecting, ya know, you.”

After a quick peek at this morning’s chef, you hold up your hands.

“No claws, I promise.”

Bucky reiterates that he’ll be back in a few hours. Steve yells a goodbye to his friend and makes his own promise to ‘take care of everything here.’

You creep up beside his spot at the stove.

Steve’s smiling. “And yes, I know that includes the poor plants.”

He watches as you struggle to say a deeply important thing, one you’ve meant to mention since last night even in the throws of shock and arguments. It’s stupid. It seems so stupid, but you have to tell him.

He’s so patient, carefully removing the pan from the heat and waiting.

“I…I don’t mind—I mean, I…like when you call me ‘babygirl.’”

You don’t get the boyish grin you expect. Steve’s smile turns subtle, a small gesture that swells into his body and makes his eyes light up.

His hand finds yours, his thumb petting your smooth skin.

“Okay, it’s time for breakfast, Babygirl, then I’ll water the plants.”

[Next Part???]

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers Series List; Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

A/N: This is...all I had strictly planned for this series, so I'm open to more though I've no clue what it would be... Still, I hope you enjoyed!

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @irishhappiness @fallenxjas @ilovetaquitosmmmm @venunsgirl @fries11 @lovinglimerence

@bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @stellar-solar-flare @deandreamernp

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63 @bitchy-bi-trash

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry

[urinarythreatinfection]

Wider View

Shanks x Woman!reader. Very suggestive. 589 words. Bottom Shanks. Outside POV.

a/n: can be read as transfem probably. posting early bc impatient

It’s a slow day for an adult store, the shop owner, bored, looks around. They already don’t have a lot of people that shop in person, but there is the occasional person or delivery person. Today though, nothing, and the sun has almost set. They perk up when the little bell rings as someone walks inside, finally something to do. “Welcome!” They say happily, which falters when they see a sudden 6’6 man walk in. Scar over his eye, muscular, even missing an arm. He looks like bad news. His blood red hair moves as he does, making them nervous. ‘He wouldn’t try to rob an adult store right? Maybe the register? Should I call someone?’ Their mind runs through options as he peruses around. He seems to sense their unease because he turns to them and gives a friendly smile.

“Hello! Do you have this in a bigger size?” He asks, holding up sexy red lingerie. So he is here to shop, and that smile didn’t look fake.

‘Is he getting something for his girlfriend? That’s bold.’ They think to themselves before answering. “Yes! It should be in the back, how big would you like?”

“An extra large, and if you have the stockings longer that would be good too.” He explains and the shop owner goes to the back.

‘He’s got a big lady, I guess he could handle something like that.’ They grab the larger size and go back, handing it to him. He looks it over, then goes to a mirror and puts it to his body. ‘He’s gay!?’ Their eyes widen in shock, the man unknowing as he smiles looking at himself. ‘I would’ve never guessed..’

Ring ring

“O-Oh, welcome!” They snap out of it and spot a woman.

“Yes, is my husband here?” She asks and then spots the redhead, who quickly hides the lingerie behind him. The shop owner’s heart tightens, is he hiding his sexuality from her? A secret gay lover? “Shanks, there you are!”

“Sorry, love, just buying some condoms.” He lies and she hums.

“Well okay, hurry up because I already made a reservation for the restaurant.” The shop owner looks away, they can’t watch this. Telling her feels out of the question too, he looks like he could kill them in seconds. Their eyes go back when she continues. “Oh, and buy more lube. I don’t think even a slut like you could handle getting fucked rough without it.” Their eyes widen when she gets closer to him, her hand trailing to his ass and giving a small squeeze. “And I’m not slowing down even if you cry~” He shivers with a shaky breath.

“Yes, love.” He says submissively and she smiles.

“Good boy, I’ll see you at the restaurant.” With that, she leaves and the man takes a moment to catch his breath before grabbing lube and condoms. He places the items on the register while the owner is frozen. They manage to tear themselves from their mind and ring the items up. While the man is giving the berries they make eye contact, and he suddenly gives a mischievous smile.

“I hope it surprises her as much as it did you.” His eyes go dark, and the owner is suddenly reminded of those demons in legend that feed off of sexual energy. “See you later~” He winks and leaves the store, leaving the store owner with a dropped jaw and flushed cheeks.

‘Well. I’m glad they’re happy.’ They think, but their world has definitely gotten larger.

I got too excited. Anyway, this can be read as transfem reader, but i didn't really know how exactly to tag that since ive never read about transfem reader stories. Anyway either fem with a strap or transfem no bottom surg. Taking everything in my body not to just post the rest. im a little nervous.. what if i hyped this and its trash.. its just a drabble.. gotta remember to keep my head on straight.

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

+18 mdni! reader guides bucky through riding

cw: sub!bucky, switch!m!reader, anal sex, mentions of smoking a blunt, multiple orgasms

word count: >1.6k

a/n: a short one for today cuz i've been so busy with exams.. i swear a longer one is coming soon

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

after a long day of work, bucky had finally come home. you were smoking a blunt, and watching a movie while waiting for him to get home, though you weren’t sure if he was even coming home tonight.

“hi, babydoll.” he spoke abruptly, breaking the day-long silence in your shared home. it was past midnight already, and he was visibly exhausted.

“hey.” you pressed pause on the movie you were watching, and placed the blunt in an ashtray while he padded towards you, climbing on top of you to straddle your hips. “woah woah woah.” you were more sensitive, now that you’ve smoked the blunt. your hands instinctively went up to his hips, gently kneading at his hips, while your own bucked away from his.

“wha..?” your words caught him off guard, and he blinked up at you curiously. “you.. don’t want this?” it had been a particularly rough day for him, and he was feeling a little insecure about himself today, he had been trying to keep himself sane by burying himself in his work.

“huh? what? sorry, i smoked earlier.” you shook your head, trying to regain your focus. “you just.. yeah..”

“aw, you’re stoned then?” bucky studied your face, trying to determine if you were actually stoned, or just acting.

“m-maybe, i guess?” you spoke as his hands roamed all over your chest.

“well, lucky for you.. i’m here to help you.” he drawled. his hot breath fanning over your ear. “and i know just the remedy.”

“fuck- yes, yeah..” you tilted your head backwards, letting him get better access to your neck. you grabbed his hips, and ground them against yours. you were extra sensitive, even the lights were too much for you, thank god you had turned them off earlier, or you would definitely lose your mind. “buck, can i..? i want to be inside of you.. so bad right now.” you trailed off, your words slurring.

“yes, yeah, you can, babydoll.” bucky hissed, his teeth nipping at your earlobe before he pulled back to gaze into your reddened, half-lidded eyes. he shifted off of you briefly, his hands roaming down to take his slacks off, revealing his cock. he wrapped his fingers around it, giving himself a few rough strokes as he pulled your pants down just enough to reveal your cock.

“go on..” you smirked, watching him try to sink down on your cock.

“fuck.. y-you feel so good.” a guttural moan tore from his throat as he sank down onto your cock. he gasped, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly as he began to bounce on your lap. each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through his body, but he got tired easily whenever he did this.

“oh fuck. wait..” you gripped onto his hips tightly, making his hips jerk to a stop.

“w-what?” he looked up at you, panting.

“that’s not how you ride, buck.” you sighed, your cock twitching inside of him.

“how.. how do you want me to ride?” bucky asked, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity and embarrassment. his face flushed at the realization that maybe he wasn’t as good at this as he thought.

“okay, uh. try it again.” you spoke, and he pulled himself up instantly, harshly slamming back down. he whimpered, and you groaned, while your tip hit his prostate. he reached forward to grab onto your shoulders tightly as he felt his legs go weak from it.

“ah that’s where you’re wrong.. you don’t bounce, buck.” you knew he was ticklish on his back, so you dragged your hands gently up his back, making him arch as he sweared. “riding is all about the grinding. doesn’t hurt or tire your hips that much if you grind.” he gave an experimental ground of his hips against yours, and it made him whine out.

“o-oh fuck..” bucky stopped for a second, before grinding down once more, as if he was trying to convince himself that all this was real. he groaned, his grip on your shoulders rough, as he continued to ride you with increased desperation.

“see? now that feels- mmh.. way better, doesn’t it?”

“i-i can’t- uugh, c-cumming..” he yelped, his voice cracking as he came. his body shook violently as his cum painted his chest and your abdomen.

“oh, pfft. i suppose it feels a lot better.” you chuckled.

“y-yeah, way better.” his chest heaved with ragged breaths as he slowly came back to reality. “you’re a fucking genius, babydoll.” he joked.

“bruises me too, if you bounce too hard.” you sighed. bucky reached his hands into your hair, and you tilted your head down, giving him easier access. “you wanna play with my hair? or- aagh..” you were cut off by a moan. he had tugged on your hair, knowing damn well what it did to you. you bit down on your lip in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“oh, i wanna play with it all right.” he got cocky the moment he saw your reaction to getting your hair tugged on. “and you’re gonna let me, aren’t you, babydoll?” he punctuated his words with another tug on your hair. his free hand slid down to pull you out, and he palmed you. “such a pretty cock, so responsive, and so eager.” he whispered, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear before he moved lower. your cock twitched, and he gasped.

“fuck. s-sorry.” you pressed your head into his shoulder, your eyes rolling back as he jerked you off while keeping a firm hand in your hair. “b-buck..”

“shh, don’t apologise” he murmured, stroking you faster. “you like it rough, don’t you? you like it when i play with you like this.” he teased.

“n-no i..” you tried to speak, only to be cut off by bucky stroking you faster. you shakily breathed out, trying to compose yourself.

“admit it, you’re loving every second of this, aren’t you?”

“fuck- fuck, fuck.” suddenly he let go of you, making you let out a weird noise that was somewhere between a moan and a squeak. “w-what?.. no- no no, please, buck, don’t do this.” you pleaded. “fine, i-i’ll admit that i like it. please just- just do something, anything.”

“you’ll admit anything when you’re close to cumming, won’t you?” bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperate plea. his other hand slid down your chest teasingly.

“fuck- fuck, yes, i- hm..” you sighed out when he thumbed your tip. “please..?” suddenly you shook your head, denying me of my release.

“nah ah. i don’t think so.” he teased. you felt frustrated, not knowing if you should just press him down and fuck you hard, or if you should just let him toy with you. “you see, i think it’s time i got what i want. and right now, what i want is your perfect cock deep inside me.” his voice was low and sultry as he whispered in your ear. “are you gonna give it to me like a good boy, or do i have to be forceful with you?”

“i- yes- please. just ride me- please.” you nodded frantically, making him chuckle before he sank down on your cock. “i.. i can’t last.. not like this.. oh..”

“fuck, babydoll. can’t get enough of you.” he didn’t even bother giving you time to adjust before he started rolling his hips once more. after a while, he got close. “i’m so close- uugh, d-don’t stop..”

“nah.. i- fuck, am gonna give you a taste of your own- mmh.. medicine. don’t deserve to cum.” you grabbed his hips and pressed them flush to yours, your cock reaching impossibly deep inside him.

“please- please, babydoll. i need to- ah.. fuck, need to cum.” he begged, his voice strained with need. “i’ll- i’ll do anything.”

“work for it then.” at your word, bucky started to grind desperately, and frantically against you. it wasn’t enough though, and it took him quite a while to realise, before tears welled up in his eyes from frustration.

“please- uugh, just- just wanna cum..” he practically sobbed out, his voice breaking. “please- h-help me..” he pleaded, his words crumbling into incoherent moans, and cries as he continued to ride you, trying to get himself to his release.

“i thought you didn’t need any help?” you asked, teasingly. you watched in delight as his tears stained his flushed cheeks.

“i-i don’t.. not usually.. but you-.. mmh..” he gasped, trying to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. he took a while to calm down, before continuing. “you make me- ah, fuck. you make me feel things i didn’t know were possible.. a-and every fucking move, every stroke.. makes me.. i love it..”

“oh you’re blabbering now, how cute.” you pushed bucky down, putting him in a mating press. you wrapped his legs around your waist. “what a sight to behold, james ‘bucky’ barnes crying below me.” you spoke, starting to thrust into him.

“oh god- yes.. mmh, please, babydoll..” he panted, his fingers moving to claw your back.

“shh, shh, just cum for me, be good.”

“yes- o-okay.. i’ll.. mmh..” he gave up on trying to speak and just ended up nodding to whatever you said.

“you gonna cum, sweets?” you whispered into bucky’s ear, and he whimpered at it. “so pretty, you can cum now.” you spoke, punctuating each of your words with a harsh and sharp thrust.

“aah- y-yeah.. thank you- thank you..” he almost cried when he came, his cum staining his abdomen. you gave him a few harsher thrusts, before cumming in him with a groan.

“made such a mess.. i just changed the sheets that day.” you winked at him, making him roll his eyes at you. “that’s not the way i want your eyes to roll.” you spat, and gave him another harsh thrust, this time his eyes rolled back in the way you liked. “that’s more like it.”

[44towaz]

growing tensions,

flickering gazes,

heated passion.

contents: hotarubi ghouls x gn! reader, suggestive content. warnings: switch/dominant reader, explicit language, dirty talk, teasing, grinding, reader is wearing a skirt in haku's, but no gendered terms or specific genitalia are mentioned [no actual smut !!]

note: this squeezed all the brain juice out of me. i’m unsure of which house i’m going to do next so comment some suggestions !!

— KAGAMI SUBARU ᝰ.ᐟ

The soft sound of the rain pitter-pattered against the wood of the patio echoed throughout the room. Purple wisteria trees hung low, seeming to greet you warmly. The air was cool and refreshing, the scent of lavender and tea floating through the air around you. Before you lay three uneaten mochis, patiently waiting for you to indulge in them.

However, you were indulging in something else entirely different.

Glancing up, your gaze landed on the captain of Hotarubi. He didn’t notice your stare, humming quietly under his breath. You recognised the tune as one of Zenji’s compositions.

You watched as he turned a page so gracefully, his fingers sliding across the paper gently. His soft brown hair framed his face so prettily, long eyelashes fluttering as he read through the documents.

Your breath caught in your throat. There was something about Subaru that made you ache desperately. Was it good or bad? You couldn’t tell.

The tension in the air hung thick, but you couldn’t tell if he could feel it too. Maybe you were delusional. Maybe you were just insatiably desperate for Subaru in ways you were too ashamed to admit.

Had you dreamt of grabbing him by his clothes, yanking forward and kissing him with fiery passion? Perchance. His lips would be pressed against yours, hands wandering all over his skin, soul aflame. The sounds he’d make, fueling the fire in you, urging you to touch him more, to make him feel your need, your want. Your unquenchable thirst for Subaru was growing day by day, and every moment you spent with him only made it worse. You felt utterly insatiable.

Nevertheless, you knew self-control. You weren’t about to do something you’d regret. Subaru was someone you cherished, a fragile jewel that shone brightly in your eyes. You would not jeopardize your friendship with him for some lustful fantasy. You refused to ruin this relationship with him over crazed emotions and wild hormones.

“I think it’s best I take my leave,” you caught the male’s attention. “I have to drop by Jabberwock before going back to my dorm,” you explained with a gentle (yet disappointed) smile.

Subaru smiled, standing up. “My apologies for keeping you this late, Honour Student. I’m extremely thankful for your help tonight,” he says as you laugh rather bashfully.

“It was no problem, Subaru,” you smiled, hoping you weren’t too obvious with your blatant affection towards him. “I’m always willing to help you.”

His soft laugh had your heart fluttering like a dozen crazed butterflies. “Here, let me show you out,” he smiled as he reached for the door handle.

Alas, like a cheesy romcom, you had reached for the door handle at the exact same time. The moment his hand touched yours, time seemed to stop.

It was like an electric shock– a pulse that both of you felt whizz through your contact. Your soft gasp and his almost inaudible whimper seemed to echo through the room.

You nearly got whiplash with how fast you turned to look at him. His face was flushed, lips parted with heavy breaths leaving his body. But what startled you even more, were his eyes. His eyes widened, staring straight at you in a mix of confusion and absolute desire.

Fuck, did he see your memories?

“I’m so sorry, Honour Student,” he retracts his hand instantly. “Shit, I- I didn’t mean to…” He trails off, cheeks ablaze. His eyes flickered up to yours as he unconsciously bit his lip. “My name…?” He mumbled under his breath, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his uniform. You could already guess what he had seen. It was written all over his face.

Probably one of the many nights you spent alone in your bed, craving him. Calling out his name, wishing it was his touch that made you unravel. Voice dripping with lustful desire, eyes clouded with absolute need for him.

Your heart was slamming against your rib cage, mind fuzzy as you stared back at the ghoul. Gulping, you very bravely took a step towards him, just to test the water.

He didn’t move.

Inching closer, you reached out towards him, fingers slowly grazing against his skin. He tensed up further, the feeling of his skin against yours warm. “Is this okay?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Subaru hesitated for a moment, but eventually nods.

As you intertwined your fingers with his, you continued to observe his reactions. Every twitch, every gasp, every breath– you revelled in it all. “Can I…” you trailed off, trying to regain at least a semblance of your composure. “Do you want to…” you cursed under your breath, words stuck in the back of your throat.

“Yes,” Subaru replied breathlessly. He leaned forward, eyes flickering to your lips. “Please, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

With that, he kissed you passionately, with vigour and aggression you had never seen from his before. Your hands clawed at his back, trying to find some sort of leverage before you legs gave way.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, his own hands wandered down to your hips. Subaru hooked an arm around your waist to give you more support, the other arm squeezing at your flesh for more. His touch was electric, hot and purposeful. Every graze of his finger, grip of your flesh, gentle caress of your skin— it turned you on even more.

Your tongue peeked out between your lips, attempting to deepen the kiss even further. He'd gladly let you have your way, inviting you to sink further and further into him. The kiss ignited an insatiable desire within you, your core aching for his touch, for his warmth, for him to just be inside you.

There was nothing more you wanted right now. Him, buried to the hilt within you, each thrust bringing you closer and closer to heaven. You needed to feel him spill his seed inside you, to fill you to the brim over, and over again. The obscene thoughts clouded your mind as you pushed his jacket off him, yours following suit.

“Fuck, Suba,” you groaned, pulling away briefly to catch your breath. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you confess to him. “I need you inside me now.”

Subaru moaned, head finding its way into the crook of your neck. “You have no idea what you do to me, Honour Student,” he croaks out, hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core. You let out a moan into his ear, feeling his hardness through your uniforms. He whimpered at the sounds you made, pressing kisses along your jaw down to your neck. “You’re too good for me, you’re too good for me,” he chanted, sucking and kissing your skin till it bruised.

“No, no, don’t say that,” you pant, trying to ignore how good he was making you feel. “I want you so badly, please Subaru, let me have you as you’ll have me,” you begged him, eyes twinkling with need.

He let out a soft sigh of contentment as he gazed into your eyes. “I’m all yours.”

— KUSANAGI HAKU ᝰ.ᐟ

You were quite certain Haku Kusanagi was going to be the death of you.

Sat at the back of the library, you thanked yourself internally for choosing such a secluded area, considering the current predicament you were having.

Haku sat across you, tapping his pen against the table incessantly. He was focused on whatever he was reading, not noticing how distracted you were. Maybe it was the way his finger fiddled with the pen, spinning it around idly.

Long, slender fingers, callously spun his pen. God, you felt filthy just thinking about the things he could do to you with them. It was unusual for you to indulge yourself in such erotic fantasies, but for some reason, you were feeling quite insatiable today.

“Honour Student?”

You snapped out of your trance, head jerking up to look at the male. He wore his signature, haughty grin with pride, gaze piercing right through you. Fuck, he knew.

“Daydreaming now, are we?” He clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment. “I’m wounded, Honour Student. And here I thought our little library date would give us a chance to be alone together.”

You stared at the man, perplexed and highly aware of how warm your face was getting. “I-I- Shit, uh,” you stutter, mentally cursing yourself for being such a fool around him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get distracted.”

Haku chuckled, stretching his legs out. You felt the tip of his shoe graze your shin, causing you to inhale a sharp breath. Fuck you for being stupidly sensitive to his touch. It was like you were begging for him to touch any part of your body. Like a prayer, a chant, a mantra that you repeated daily that fell on deaf ears.

“I’m just teasin’ ya,” he grins, head tilted and resting on his hand. His elbow rested against the table as his eyes bore right through your soul. His gaze sent shivers down your spine, setting your skin ablaze.

You couldn’t take it. If you sat near Haku any longer, you’d short-circuit. “I’m going to find another book!” You announced in a high-pitched squeak, a futile attempt at sounding put together.

The shelves seemed to tower over you. Maybe it was simply because Haku made you feel small. His charisma, flirtatious nature, and good looks overwhelmed you at times (not that you were complaining, though). Haku had this effect on you.

Whenever you were together, the sexual tension in the air was palpable. The hot, sticky feeling in the air made it hard to breathe, these feelings of intense need and desire overwhelming you. And God, did you wish you were brave enough to act on your feelings.

“[Y/N]?”

You spun around, gasping as you realised how close Haku was. Taking a step back, your back comes into contact with the bookshelf. “H-Haku,” you plastered a smile on your face. “What’re you doing here?” You asked rather breathlessly.

He smiled slyly. “Well, you were gone for a while,” he explained, leaning down cautiously. “And I was worried about you.”

Silence engulfed you both. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Haku’s, his eyes twinkled with mischief. He could feel it too. He could feel this tension, this desire, the need and urge that you felt. You knew he could. You could see it in his smile.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” you managed to breathe out, gaze still on his.

“Of course,” he murmured, fingers reaching out to brush a strand of your hair away. “But I’m still worried about your predicament.”

You arched an eyebrow, still hyper aware of how he touched you. “What predicament?”

The gasp you let out echoed in your head as Haku’s thumb toyed with your bottom lip. His left hand was now on your waist, his grip gentle, but firm. “I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling this now, am I?” You suppress a groan, hand shooting out to grasp onto his shoulders.

“Fuck, Haku,” your voice is raspy as he chuckles, leaning down.

“Do you want me to do something, Honour Student?” He feigned innocence with his signature grin.

The glare you shot him has him chuckling yet again. You don’t wait for him to make the first move and instead pull him down towards you. His little gasp boosts your ego momentarily as you finally capture his lips.

It felt like a spark had ignited the moment your lips touched. Your hunger only grew at this small taste of Haku. You could feel his tongue against yours, his breathing ragged, filled with as much need as you were. His hands slowly traced along your collarbone, before moving south, down your chest, past your stomach. You knew where this was headed.

“Wait, here?” You whispered aggressively between kisses. “Are you insane?” You let out a soft gasp as his fingers trace along your inner thigh.

He chuckled, a sly grin on his face. “Weren’t you a smart one, picking the most isolated area in the library,” he cooed, pressing kisses along your neck. Haku revelled in every gasp, whine, whimper and shudder he elicited out of you.

“It– ah, fuck me– wasn’t on purpose– ngh!” You bit your bottom lip in an attempt to muffle your moans.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers up your spine, and shooting straight between your legs. Leaning in, you feel his breath against the skin of your neck. You hold your breath, clutching onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

His lips ghosted over your neck, fingers gently brushing your hair away. His other hand slowly crept down your body, ghosting over your skin before finally nestling between your legs. You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold back a whimper that you so desperately wanted Haku to hear.

You could feel his smirk against your skin. He knew what he was doing to you. His fingers hook the band of your skirt down, tracing circles along your inner thigh.

“Liar.”

— KOTODAMA ZENJI ᝰ.ᐟ

Soft, plush blankets cushioned your fall as you threw yourself onto your bed. At last, the long day was over, and you could finally rest.

You sighed, draping your arm over your eyes. Exhaustion began to set in, muscles still tense and rigid. A hot shower would do you some good, but God, the idea of even moving a finger seemed like torture.

“Oh, my dear! You look absolutely absolutely spent!”

A smile slowly made its way onto your lips as you moved your arm, opening one eye. Zenji hovered over the foot of your bed, doll in hand. He wore a concerned expression that made you chuckle softly.

“Hey, Zenji,” you greeted him as he made his way beside you. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

The purple haired male clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Those ghouls really ought to know their limits!” He declared with an angry pout. “Why, you need your rest and beauty sleep just as much as they do!”

“Thank you, Zenji,” you let out a soft breath. “Unfortunately, not everyone is as kind as you are,” you laughed at his bewildered expression. His concern for you warmed your heart as you shuffle your body closer to the edge of the bed. “Lay with me, won’t you?”

Zenji simply floated over, placing his doll on the chair near your bed before laying next to you. He simply stared at you, eyes filled with adoration. “You are too nice, my dear,” he said softly, arm reaching out. “You allow yourself to be pushed to the brink for the sake of others.”

You hummed in response, watching as his fingers near your face. Fully expecting them to pass through, you close your eyes. But the sudden feel of cold fingertips pressed against your cheek made you gasp, eyes shooting open.

Zenji recoiled in shock. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. You blinked comically, moving closer to him slowly.

“Was that– did you?” You tilted your head, questioning the man. “I could feel you.”

“I am unsure why, my dear,” he mumbled, both confused and mildly perturbed. His fingers curl up, hand pressed against his chest. He was afraid to move.

Your gaze flickered between his hands and face. You never noticed how beautiful Zenji’s hands really were. His fingers were long, nails trimmed and well maintained. His skin was smooth and pale— entrancingly gorgeous in your eyes.

“May I touch you?”

You’re surprised by your own question, curiosity getting the best of you. Zenji’s eyes widened slightly, similarly shocked by your daring and sudden question. He nodded slowly, anticipation coursing through your veins.

Before you can even process your actions, your fingers gently grazed the man’s face. His skin was cold, but it felt soft. The tingly feeling on the pad of your fingertips felt electrifying. It was short, brief, but it felt good. Why did it feel so good? What was that feeling?

Gulping, you took a leap of faith and pressed your palm to his cheek. The warmth of your body began to heat his skin up, making him gasp. It had been so long since he felt this warm. It had been even longer since someone touched him.

Zenji pressed his cheek into your touch, letting out a soft sigh. He hadn’t felt this good in ages. The feeling of your skin against his felt almost euphoric. How long had it been since he had felt the touch of another? He couldn’t remember– all that mattered right now, was how good you made him feel.

Disappointment settled in his chest when you retract your hand, still in awe of this newfound feeling. “You feel amazing,” you whispered, eyes wide, sparkling as you stared at the man. “I don’t know how else to describe it, Zenji, but when I touch you,” you reached out slowly, taking his hand into yours gently. “I feel good.”

You intertwine your fingers with his as Zenji closes his eyes, a soft whimper leaving his lips. You’re thoroughly amused, and quite delighted that you had such an effect on him. The warmth building in the pit on your stomach was a testament to how he made you feel.

“Your face is so close to mine.”

His voice is soft, almost inaudible. He sounded breathless, filled with this deep desire that you can’t describe. But you know you feel it too.

Grinning, you shift a little closer to him. “Well, do you like it this close?” You whisper as he tenses up. “Because your face is red,” you reached forward to cup his cheek with both your hands. He shivered under your touch, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes. “And it’s so cute.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he inhales a deep breath. The air was hot and heavy, an intense desire, an insatiable yearn, a deep, guttural feeling of primal need filled your veins. You wanted him.

You needed him.

“Zenji,” your gaze flickered between his beautiful eyes and plump, rosy lips. “If you have no objections at all,” you gulp nervously, fingers curled into a fist. “I am going to–”

Before you can even finish, the purple-haired male lurched forward, grabbing your shirt and pulling you into him. The kiss was intoxicating. It was everything you ever wanted, and even more. He tasted like green tea and roasted pumpkin seeds. The hint of sweetness that lingered on his soft lips made you crave him even more.

You shivered when Zenji’s hands moved down, tracing your jaw as you continued to kiss him. The air was hot, a small coil of pleasure building up inside you.

Letting out a shaky breath, your hand moved down, trying to imprint the feeling of Zenji’s body, every crevice, every dip– in your mind. You needed to remember how he felt. God knows how long you yearned to touch him. You weren’t about to let this opportunity pass.

“You taste divine, my beloved,” he whispered, peppering kisses along your jaw. “Oh, how I’ve dreamt of this moment,” he confessed as you whine shakily.

Your hands wandered further down before finally reaching Zenji’s hardened bulge. Your fingers brush against it and he let out a loud gasp, hips bucking upwards jarringly. His arms were now wrapped around your neck, face buried in the crook of it. You could feel his cold breath, lips peppering kisses along your warm skin.

“Please, my darling,” he moaned, grinding against you gently. “Please touch me more. I need to breathe you in until I’m completely intoxicated– until I’m thoroughly addicted to you.”

Oh, how could you refuse him?

[zenyyyluvyuu]

My man

[gk! Jason todd x gn reader]

Synopsis: maybe a moment of him being your man

Tw/cw: idk fluff

Author note: i was craving his gotham knight version 💥 sorry for the grammar and my broken English. 🙏 And kinda ooc and cringey sorry

Library dates :

Jason is not a fan of fancy dates or dates where there are so many people who might distract you and jason. So he prefers quiet and insulated dates.

Where there are just less people and more silence. It's the Library.

You two will sit together on the chair. And peace

If you're a reader you might yap with him about the novel you read and him listening to you and also giving a comment.

He will also do the same thing as telling a theory or comment from the book he read.

He likes literature, maybe he will introduce you to literature books like, pride and prejudice. He's a nerd and you love him for that.

While reading together in silence and peace. You guys might hold hands, interlocking fingers together. Or you playing with his callous hands to keep your hands distracted.

He doesn't mind tho, cus you are his woman. So he let you do your things to him.

Rainy days :

Gotham has been raining, coating the city with water and cold air.

You were watching tv with a blanket on your lap, warming up your legs. And a cup of hot chocolate in your hands.

It was really cozy. You blow the hot chocolate, and drink it slowly. Tasting the sweet favors, you hum as the taste. It was sweet like always.

The sound of the door opening, meaning that jason has returned. You stand up from your spot. And saw him wet in the rain.

He saw you coming closer to him. "Hey"

He paused a little. "I thought the weather was good.." he scratched his neck. He was clearly wet, very very wet.

Like a wet cat maybe lol

"i told you to bring an umbrella, the weather was not good you know? And look at you now" you huff as you put your hands on your hip.

"yeah.. I'm wet"

You then smiled and let out a sigh, he was stubborn. You tug his sleeve. "Come on let's get you changed big guy" you say as you walk with him to the bathroom.

"yeah yeah"

After that, he suddenly hugs you from behind. Making you yelp.

his wet clothes cling to your dry clothes. He was really cold. You shiver as he hugs you tight.

"JASON! YOU'RE COLD!" you half-yelled at him. He just tightened his hold on you.

"I'm cold (name).." he then put his chin on your shoulder. Feeling warm from your body.

"then let's go change your clothes! You're so cold! Or maybe take a hot shower!"

You struggle to let go of his grasp. He was stronger, of course you fail.

"jason.."

"fine fine"

He gives you a smooch on your cheek before letting go of you. You playfully glare at him, as your clothes now were also wet.

He smiles at you like he did nothing wrong. "guess we have to take a hot shower together then :)"

Yeah he was planning it. you slowly smile, and grab his hand. Guiding him to the bathroom. Your step. Were slow and he was too.

You open the door and come in first, he comes in secondly as he closes the door. You are ready to turn on the faucet. Arranging the temperature of the water.

Once the water was settled. You turn around to meet him. And oh damn.

He's already naked not that too naked. He only wears his pants. He notices you staring.

Your eyes widen, surprised because how fast he takes off his clothes.

"what?"

"nuthing" you turn around from him.

*giggles*

And finally you guys settled it in the tub together. Your back on his chest. His hand on the tub, his head tilted up, he was relaxing. With you of course.

You hug your legs, snug. You exhale at the calmness. You feel, jason as he shifts his position. Leaning in on you. You feel his warm chest on your back, and then and then

Muah

He kisses your head. Inhaling your scent, his hands hold your waist. "We can be like this forever" he says as he rest his chin on your shoulder.

You hummed. "Yeah"

In the end you guys were cuddling on the sofa with a blanket, warming you guys up, and a movie!

Motorcycle :

This is like he lets you sit on his motorcycle, and him riding it. It's really fun. Like if you wanna go somewhere else he will drive you there and pick you home.

He never wanted you to go somewhere with gotham buses. He knows Gotham and he's serious about your safety. Even tho you insisted on going with it, he will let out a sigh of Annoyed.

He's not too Calm when it comes to your safety so you have to understand. He doesn't like you being in danger yk.

If you want to learn how to drive a motorcycle, he volunteers to be your mentor, because he knows a lot about motorcycles.

When you finally drive a motorcycle with ease, he's like a proud dad yk. He'll even tell you about how to fix it when it's broken.

And i also think he does this:

Like One day, he comes home from patrol.

He has told you in calls, that he will come home early because this is an easy night, where gotham decides to go in peace mode.

He told you that you should sleep before him. So you sleep even tho you are still worried, that he might get injured.

He comes home not long after you sleep. He takes off his boots, and his helmet.

He walks to your shared bedroom, as he did he put his helmet away. And change his suit into his casual clothes.

He decided not to shower cus the night didn't give him much sweat.

When he is about to get into the bed to sleep w you. He saw your feet, his eyes squinted.

Why did you sleep with your feet's out?

He sit on the edge of the bed, He covers your feet with the blanket but you feel it, you throw your feet. Throwing away the blanket that covers your feet.

And then you go back to sleep again, like nothing happened. He stares, Hard.

He stood up from the bed, and to the drawer, took out a pair of your socks. He comes back to the bed. Sit down.

And starting to Put on your socks gently but still kinda rough. You mumble from your sleep.

As he finishes putting on your sock, he gazes at your sleeping face. He exhaled, he then sleeps beside you.

And uuhh yeah cuddling. Soft and comfy.

Hands:

Like he lets you play his hand or even his chain on his neck while you guys are cuddling on the couch. And him reading his book, unbothered.

It's a cozy day.

You play with his hand, his finger. Callouses and big. You think maybe he didn't mind if you paint his nail, probably pink lol

He gazes at you as you play, too busy with playing his hands.

And suddenly his hand grip yours. And Directing it to her lips. And a peck

He kisses your back hands.

You look at him, eyes wide. And a form of blush starts creeping on your cheeks. He smirk, and start repeating it again.

Smooch

You giggle a bit. You hold his hand tight. And take it to your lips too, kissing his knuckles.

He smile.

He really loves you.

_________________________________________________

OKAYYY THANK YOU FOR READING MY CRINGEY FIC 🔅🔅

And I'm so sorry for the hiatus. I will finish all my wips, i hope you guys like da fic

Don't forget to reblog , like or comment! 😸😸🔅🔅

[lieslab]

Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Jeongin X gn reader

Summary: Your best friend opens up about his unhealthy relationship with his girlfriend.

Genre: Reverse comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.8k

Sexual violence resources

Trigger warning: Sexual assault and bullying.

A/N: The next time someone says something cruel about Jeongin, I'll be putting an alligator in their house. Anyway, I combined two different requests together because they both followed a similar outline with only a few differences. I made sure I touched on everything in each request, so both requestees should have what they asked for <3

_ _ _

“Jeongin?” You glanced over, checking on your best friend. “Hello? Earth to Jeongin, are you alive over there?” You leaned across the table and tapped his side of the table. 

A straw stuck in his mouth. Half-distracted, he chewed on it absent-mindedly. The movement of your hand and faint table taps brought him back. He looked up with a frown. “Huh?” 

You stared at his face, wondering if something else tugged his thoughts away from the conversation. He came over, so the two of you could catch up. You went on a walk, bought yourselves coffee at a cafe, and you came back to your place. He’d been quiet ever since. 

It wasn’t like him to avoid your gaze so much. He avoided your gaze and kept getting lost in his thoughts. It wasn’t the usual playful Jeongin you knew. He didn’t tease you yet, not like he usually did. In fact, he hadn’t said much of anything since he arrived. Most of the talking, it came from you and on your end. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” 

You studied his eyes again, silently willing him to look at you, but he didn’t. He didn’t look at you. He glanced at the wooden surface of your round table. His fingers moved the straw in his cup and he took another sip of his americano. 

“You know you can talk to me if something is wrong, right?” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. You tried to ignore it and finish your story, but you struggled. The way his eyes avoided yours, it looked like a shame of some sort. Shame of what? You didn’t know. 

The two of you always got along pretty well. The occasional arguments, you could smooth them over with ease. Whatever it was, this was different. Something silent punctured his heart and you thought he’d bring it up, but he never did. 

After a few more minutes, you called his name again. This time, he’d been listening. He glanced up, briefly meant your eyes, and went back to the table’s worn surface. “Jeongin, what’s going on with you?” You put down your own drink and shifted closer. “You’re worrying me.” 

“I’m not trying to. I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind recently, that’s all.” 

You believed him to some degree, but the way he spoke, he distanced himself from you. He shut down your conversation before it got started. He didn’t give you anything to work with and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t bring yourself to cross his boundaries, so you changed the subject instead. 

“How’s your girlfriend?” 

The corners of his mouth deepened. His shoulders slumped and he tightened his grip around the cup’s condensation. “She’s okay, I guess.” 

“You guess?” You echoed. 

He shook his head, causing strands of his brunette hair to shake. “I don’t know. We’re together, but…” 

“But something happened between the two of you?” 

“Well, no. I mean yes, but no. Not really. I just…” He trailed off, gripping the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on between us. It’s um…” 

You reached out, placing your hand over his. “You know I’d never judge you for whatever is going on.” You patted the back of his hand, hoping to cause a smile. “You can talk to me, I don’t bite.” 

“I really liked her at first. She’s pretty and she was sweet, but as the days keep rolling by, things have changed between us. She’s a lot more grabby with wandering hands and I understand wanting to be close.” 

Your eyebrow raised. 

He went on. “It’s only been a few weeks and she tries to talk me into moving further along in our relationship than I want to go. You know how I wanted to be a priest, right? I was raised Catholic and everything.” 

You nodded. 

“I just don’t feel like I’m ready for the next steps yet. I don’t know if I want to wait until marriage until we’re more intimate, but it’s barely been a month. It feels so fast and I don’t like that. I’ve tried to explain that, but she keeps grabbing my arms and slipping a hand beneath my shirt.” 

Your eyes widened, but he didn’t notice. Shame brushed along his stomach. His stomach knotted and twisted. Coffee crept up the back of his throat, but he forced himself to swallow it. 

“And maybe it’s my fault for not making my boundaries more known. I keep tugging away and pushing her hand away, hoping she’ll get the hint. It seems like she never does. She gets upset and then she makes these little comments and they make me feel awful.” 

“What kind of comments?” 

“Comments about the rest of my group and me. The rest of the guys, they’re always known for things. Chan is our leader. Minho is known for his dancing and threatening aura. Changbin is silly and playful. It just goes on and on.” 

“What does she say about you?” 

“She doesn’t think I’m special. I’m the youngest, but that doesn’t-” He paused to gesture. “That doesn’t bring much of anything to the table, does it? I’m just the youngest of the group. I’m not romantic like Hyunjin. I’m not poetic with my songwriting like Han. Felix is the sunshine, Seungmin is witty and always teases everyone, and me? I’m just-” 

He blinked rapidly, trying not to tear up. “I’m just me. I’m Jeongin. The youngest. I’m not much of anything according to her. She thinks I should focus on bettering myself, so I can be more admirable.” 

Your blood boiled with anger and then your heart burst. Not only did your best friend admit he was sexually assaulted, but then the added comments. He sniffled and wiped his eyes with his palms. 

“I’m sorry, it’s stupid, really. She’s right, I should be better. I should tell her how I feel and stop avoiding things. She says things and knows how to twist her words, making me feel awful.” 

“You’re allowed to feel awful after being sexually assaulted and insulted, Jeongin.” 

His head shook, “I wouldn’t call it that.” 

“But that’s what it is. If she’s going beneath your shirt without your consent, when you’re clearly uncomfortable. If she’s feeling you up and you’re trying to avoid her touch, that’s an example of sexual assault.” 

His bottom lip trembled. You pushed yourself up from your chair, letting your drink on your side of the table. Glassy eyes met yours and quickly looked away. He stood up as well, trying to spin around, so you wouldn’t see his free falling tears. 

“Come here and please let me hug you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you really look like you could use a-” 

He jerked around and nearly caused you to hit the ground. You stumbled back from the force of his arms around you. Your waist came into contact with the table behind you, helping you stay upright. His arms wrapped around your torso tight and yours fell over his shoulders. 

You pulled him closer, letting his head fall beneath your chin. “I can’t believe she thinks you’re not special. You’re you. Yes, you might be the youngest, but you are special. I’ve considered you to be the most playful of the group.” 

“You taunt and tease sometimes. You bring youthful energy and that’s a high compliment. Sure, maybe the guys see you as a younger brother, but that doesn’t mean you’re not grown. As much as Chan keeps them in line, I think sometimes you speak up and keep the guys in line and responsible, too. Plus, in my opinion, you have the best voice.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, basking in the scent of you. The baby powder scent of his own shampoo tickled your nose. “Do you mean it? Because the way she talks, she makes it sound like I’m not worthy of the group.” 

“If Chan’s the heart, I think you’re the veins pumping all the energy. Giving energy to each organ, making sure the heart continues to beat regularly. I don’t think you give yourself the credit you deserve, Innie.” 

Warm tears soaked your shirt, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t everyday that Jeongin became this vulnerable with you. He wasn’t always so open. This vulnerability, you admired it. 

“I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I think you should break up with her. This isn’t healthy for you. You shouldn’t be in my arms being cheered up because her words are making you feel horrible. I don’t say it to be a horrible person, I say it because I love you.” 

“Love shouldn’t make you feel like this. Real love won’t shrink your heart, it’ll make it grow and swell so much, you think it’ll kill you from being so overjoyed. Love is a powerful thing and it has the power to make, or break you. It sounds like she’s lusting over you and not loving you.” 

He pulled away, trying to collect himself. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry for putting all of this on you.” He reached up, trying to wipe his eyes. 

“Don’t be sorry. I love you, you dork. I love your maturity and your radiant youthful glow. Have you seen a photo from when you were seventeen? Because it looks like you haven’t aged. It’s scary.” 

You reached out with two fingers, playfully trying to press them against his pulse. He yelped and whacked your hand away. “Hey! What are you-” 

“Oh, you won’t let me feel your pulse? Do you even have a heart?” You gasped and jerked back. “Oh my god, are you a vampire? Ah!” You squealed and rushed past the table and into the living room. “Don’t bite me!” 

“Why would I be a vampire?” 

“You won’t let me touch your pulse!” 

He started to follow your trail, chasing after you. “That doesn’t mean I-” 

A pillow weakly fell at his feet and you shrieked. “Stay back! Stay back! I’m warning you! May the power of Christ compel you!” Your fingers crossed over one another in a small cross. “Don’t make me get out a bible.” 

“Good grief,” he rolled his eyes. His eyes met yours. You stayed in defense, keeping up your cross. He stared at you for a moment before a grin spread across his face. “I vant to suck your vlood! Mwah-hahahahaha!” 

You screamed louder at the Romanian accent and rushed into your hallway. He called after you with a laugh and hurried after your silhouette. Your heart thudded against your chest. 

Maybe one day, you’d work up the courage to admit the crush you had on him, but right now, you had to outrun an immortal blood-sucking vampire and that was far more important than a silly little crush would ever be.

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[unsuperingyournatural]

didn't love that; neither did i

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

flavored with mild angst & implied references to possible past family trauma

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The door clicks shut behind you, and you head straight for the kitchen without a word. Pedro lingers by the door a second longer than usual, like he’s debating whether to say something or let it go.

He doesn’t.

“That was... a lot,” he says, his voice even but a little tight.

You open the fridge, maybe a little louder than necessary. “If you mean the coffee shop thing, yeah. It was.”

Pedro crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I just—look, I get being frustrated. But snapping at people like that? It’s not a good look.”

You stop mid-reach for the orange juice. Turn to face him slowly, one brow raised. “Seriously?”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, it came off kind of harsh.”

You stare at him. “Pedro, that guy got my order wrong three times. He acted like I was inconveniencing him, and then he flat-out refused to refund me for a drink I never even got.”

“I’m not defending the guy,” Pedro says, pushing a hand through his hair. “But there are better ways to handle stuff like that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you snap. “Should I have sweetly smiled while he rolled his eyes at me and told me he was ‘too busy to care’?”

Pedro gives you a look. “Come on.”

“No, seriously. Are you upset because I called out bad service, or because I didn’t do it in a tone that made you comfortable?”

His jaw tightens. “I just don’t like watching people talk down to others, okay? I don’t care who’s right.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “He wasn’t some innocent victim, Pedro. He was rude, lazy, and smug about it. He treated me like I was invisible until I wasn’t.”

There’s a pause, tense and charged with more than just annoyance.

Pedro exhales and steps toward you slowly. “You’re right,” he says. “He was an ass. I just... when I see that kind of thing go down, it makes me flinch. Doesn’t matter who’s doing the yelling. It brings up shit.”

Your posture doesn’t soften. Not yet.

“I wasn’t yelling,” you say, calm but firm. “I was holding my ground. There’s a difference.”

“I know,” he says gently. “But you were pissed. And I didn’t love how it felt being next to that.”

You study him. “I get that it brought stuff up for you. I really do. And I’m sorry if it hit a nerve—but I’m not going to apologize for how I handled it. That guy was a jerk, Pedro. He dismissed me, ignored me, and then acted like I didn’t matter. I don’t need to perform politeness for someone who treats me like that.”

He opens his mouth like he might argue, but you keep going.

“I’m allowed to be angry. I’m allowed to show it. You don’t have to love how it feels, but if we’re doing this... if we’re really together, you need to understand that I’m not going to shrink myself to make things more comfortable for everyone else. Not even you.”

Pedro’s quiet for a beat, eyes on yours.

“I hear you,” he says finally, voice low. “I’m not asking you to shrink. I just... I want to understand you better. And yeah, sometimes I need to check my own shit at the door.”

You nod, but there’s still a flicker of heat in your eyes. “Good. Because I don’t need protecting from my own anger. I just need someone who doesn’t make me feel ashamed for having it.”

That silences him. Not out of offense, but understanding. His expression shifts—shoulders easing, gaze softer now. Something unspoken passes between you, something heavier than irritation and warmer than pride.

Your anger cools slightly and it hits you then. You expel a breath and run a hand through your hair. “I guess you’re not the only one who has shit come up sometimes.” You hesitantly meet his eyes. “I was never really allowed to have emotions or display them. Not the kind that didn’t fit into a cute and contained little box that worked into the narrative of my parents’ perfect family image. Anything outside of that was… inconvenient.”

Pedro doesn’t say anything right away. He just watches you, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

You let out a soft breath. “So yeah, sometimes when someone talks to me like I don’t matter, I push back. Hard. Because I spent too long learning how to make myself small and palatable and quiet. And I’m done with that.”

Still, he stays quiet. Listening. Really listening.

You swallow. “And I know… I know that kind of tension messes with you. I see it, even when you try to hide it. I know you’ve been through shit too, and I don’t want to be another source of noise for you. I never want to be that.”

Pedro’s expression shifts—his whole face softening like something inside him just unknotted.

“I just wish you’d told me it hit a nerve instead of making it about how I came off. I’m not perfect, but I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”

He exhales like he’s been holding that breath for a while. “You didn’t hurt me,” he says, voice low. “It just caught me off guard. And that’s not on you. That’s my stuff.”

You nod, slowly. “Maybe it’s both of us. Trying to unlearn old stories at the same time.”

There’s a beat of stillness before he speaks. His voice is soft, but sure. “Good.”

You blink. “Good?”

Pedro nods. “Yeah. Good. I don’t want the quiet version of you. I want the real one. Even if she yells in coffee shops.”

You almost laugh—almost. It catches in your throat, more emotion than amusement. “I wasn’t yelling.”

He lifts a hand, palm up in surrender. “Firmly vocalizing.”

You huff. “You’re the worst.”

He also huffs a breath, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “God, you’re impossible.”

“And yet,” you say, stepping in close, crowding into his space just enough that your chest brushes his, “here you are.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to your mouth. “Here I am.”

He slides a hand to the back of your neck, warm and steady, and kisses you—slow and unhurried, with just the faintest edge of apology tucked into it. You kiss him back with the same energy. Not quite an I’m sorry, but an I still choose you, even in the messy moments.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours.

“I still want my damn coffee,” you murmur.

He smiles against your mouth. “I’ll make you one. No foam art, though.”

“Coward.”