#I just. I wish I had this kind-of relationship so bad. this kind of friendship where it's ok if we're different it's ok

[eggmeralda]

I hate having romantic feelings this is horrendous I wanna go back to being fully aromantic

[good-night-space-kid]

.

[yuri-is-online]

And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.

Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"

Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.

Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"

On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.

Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."

If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.

Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."

Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.

Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"

Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.

Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."

Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.

Malleus- "..."

Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?

Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"

Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.

Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"

Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.

Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."

You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?

[aromanticannibal]

after consideration I will stir clear from this fandom

[adelheidvonschicksal]

⋆｡°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?

“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”

Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.

Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.

Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work

A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.

“Do you want to hang out at my place?” 

Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.

“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.” 

Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?” 

There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.

“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”

The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.

“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn. 

“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”

When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor. 

When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite. 

“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie. 

“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle. 

“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.” 

“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”

“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence. 

It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess. 

As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.

“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.

“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face. 

And, well, Xavier…

“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”

Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.

You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.

You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.

The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.

So, you choose to wake him up.

“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.

Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.

Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.

“Mm…what?” he groans out.

Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”

A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.

“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”

Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.

“Red…” he mumbles.

You repeat after him. “Red?”

“Red…extra spicy.”

You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”

Oh. The hot pot restaurant.

“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.

“Yes?” you ask.

Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.

“Come home…with me…”

There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.

Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?

These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?

The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.

There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.

When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.

“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.

“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”

Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”

“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”

“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?

“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.

His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”

You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.

“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.

“I did? What did I get?”

“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”

“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”

“I do?”

He nods, his expression softening.

”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.

What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.

Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.

Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.

“Sleeping is much better with someone.” 

“How do you know?” you mumble against him.

“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”

”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.

Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.

When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.

“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “Real well actually."

Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.

“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy. 

“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”

For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.

“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”

Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”

“If we watch it together…”

He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.” 

“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily. 

“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”

“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you. 

“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”

“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”

When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat. 

“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”

Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head. 

“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”

You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.

Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now. 

It's late when it happens.

The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.

The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.

It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.

He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.

Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.

Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.

You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.

“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.

“You always use that excuse.”

“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.

Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.

“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”

“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”

“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”

There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.

You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.

It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.

However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.

“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”

“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.

“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”

“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”

His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face. 

“I might end up falling asleep here.”

It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.

It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.

Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?

But it was his choice to agree.

Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.

When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.

“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”

The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.

“About what?”

The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.

“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”

You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.

“How would it be easier?”

“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”

There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.

But then, Xavier smiles.

“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”

Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.

“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”

“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.

“Do roommates sleep together too?”

There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”

“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”

“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”

“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”

“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”

Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.

“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”

Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”

He nods.

“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”

His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.

“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."

“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”

“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.

You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.

“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”

Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.

Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.

“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”

“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.

“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”

“And then?”

“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.

“Then, happily ever after?”

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”

Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”

You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”

Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."

"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"

You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.

“Good night, roommate.”

“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.

Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.

When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.

“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.

[vagabond-umlaut]

summer collapsed into fall

summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^

satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.

it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?

but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.

he decides to feign confusion.

"what?"

"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."

but is it fine if he has none?

throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.

and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."

"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.

"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"

not really... no.

while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---

but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.

not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"

"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"

rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---

although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.

he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.

but no, he doesn't.

satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:

if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.

it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.

many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...

he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?

just who are you seeing in him?

"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---

satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:

he now has one favourite colour.

[alexwilltellyouthings]

Ok I have so many thoughts about painland ending up canon or not and I. Just.

Listen I AGREE that their bond goes beyond being romantic or not. It's obvious, it's beautiful, I love it and I love them and their friendship and I truly do think it is important that media has this kind of relationship portrayed.

But.

But.

I would be lying if I said I wouldn't be disappointed if it doesn't turn romantic. It involves a lot of things.

1: I want Edwin to have that. He'll still be happy without it, yes, but god can't he have that? He's been through so much. He had a speedrun through his sexuality issues and confessed in hell. Like wtf. Can't he have that???

2. Bisexual Charles would actually be so important to me. And yeah he can be bi and not in love with Edwin but come on lol. The thing is, there's not many bi men in media. Even less bi men figuring out their bisexuality. Even less bi men figuring out their sexuality when they were raised in the 80s and knowing their best friend is in love. Do you see how many layers exist here? How amazing his story could be? Charles has so much we still don't know about him. And yes, I would like that one of those things could be something I relate to. Besides trauma. Call me selfish. And like he's so bisexual coded it would be offensive for him to be straight I'm sorry.

3. They exist in other universes. Let them be platonic there. Let them be romantic this one time.

4. I know falling in love with a straight person is a very common story and I don't think it's wrong for it to happen in a show, but honestly, it's not what I sign up for when I'm watching queer stuff. Think Our Flag Means Death. It probably changed my brain chemistry because anything less than that gets really hard to swallow. I know, we all have queerbaiting trauma, and I know this wouldn't be the case, and it never claimed to be something as queer as OFMD. But I got so attached that... Well, I wouldn't stop watching if this happens, but it wouldn't sit well with me. It's a bitter feeling, you know?

5. They didn't have anything be explicit, but come on, they did set us up. Charles got jealous at Monty, and only Monty, for that matter. I wouldn't say his thing with the Cat King is necessarily jealousy, more like protectiveness, but that can be disputable. And both George and Jayden said more than once that Charles' response to the confession let things open. So I mean if that door wasn't closed, then please don't close it now! The road until things happen can be long, dramatic, tortuous, whatever, there's many ways to tell a love story. But if I'm sitting for it, then I don't want to get shot in the face later on (unless it's for plot reasons which ok).

6. Have I mentioned that bisexual Charles

Anyway I feel kinda bad for wishing so much they get romantic because I see and agree with the whole platonic discourse. But yeah those are all the reasons why I can't stop myself. Have a good day everyone

[piastree]

Take a Chance with Me | OP81

oscar piastri x reader (fc: huh yunjin)

— Part 2

Previous Part | Next Part

Summary : They are a couple caught in the chaos of a love filled with randomness and quirks. Their relationship is marked by funny and unpredictable moments, where each day feels like a new adventure. Despite frequently engaging in amusing and spirited bickering, beneath the banter lies a deep and meaningful romance. noted: idk i decided to make the part 2 haha. Enjoyyy!!<3

yourusername

tagged oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 15,397 others

yourusername what is life if not to love and be loved

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user OMGGGG I LOVE HER

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yourusername on duty🏁🏎️

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user sadly the luck was not here with him

yourusername the luck just took a vacation for today :(

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri Gracias México 🇲🇽 Not the Sunday we planned but more points on the board. Onwards to 🇧🇷

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mclaren Let’s go after it again in Brazil! 👊

user you did an amazing job right here!!!! We love you, Oscar!!🇲🇽🧡 hope you enjoyed your time here

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yourusername always proud of you❤️

oscarpiastri thankyou, love ❤️

user idk if i want her or to be her

yourusername

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yourusername farewell to the my ginger hair era

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twitter

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oscarpiastri Rolled the dice and bagged some points 🎲 Vegas, you were fun!

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user and bagged fastest lap🙌🏼🧡

user bad strategy but incredible pace

user A BIG THANKYOU Y/N FOR GIVING MY GIFT TO OSCAR!! YOU ARE TRULY AMAZINGGG<3 @/yourusername

user aww she's the kindest

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user wishing lando a speedy recovery❤️🙏

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user i guess the exhausting night unexpectedly brought a new friendship!!

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I don't know why I wrote part 2 but I enjoyed writing this, I hope you also enjoy reading this

[sh1-n0bu]

can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??

✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿

characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader

warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…

notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea

oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?

tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it

which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it

safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways

has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong

him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there

like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei

safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family

his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life

his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T

his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!

yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it

you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims

the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last

AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!

likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game

will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die

something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too

he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones

had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it

the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you

was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!

he aint fooling anyone

takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh

had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ

yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice

after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date

you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud

walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home

the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you

“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”

“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”

“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”

yeah… just say you love them already, scara

your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶

would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face

“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”

[azzibuckets]

now that we don’t talk [part 2 | paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige reunite, but in the worst way possible

a/n: i wrote this part like a month ago but i never posted it. im not sure about continuing this series because i dont have a vision for how i want it to go

word count: 3.4k

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You shut your eyes, exhaling. The breath that came out was shaky, and you hated it. You hated feeling this weak and unstable before a game, when usually you were all collected and confident.

Your brain was a battle of emotions. Your school, USC, was facing off against UConn in a pre-season match today, and since it was the first game of October, the administration on both teams had agreed to dedicate this game to Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

In a kind gesture that had left you at a loss for words, your head coach Gottlieb had organized custom pink shirts for the entire team to wear during warmup, with a painting of your grandma’s face in the front and one of her quotes on the back - “Strength is not the absence of fear, but the courage to confront it.” Your grandma had been a force in the basketball world, being one of the founders and fighters of the WNBA, and you knowed that part of the reason why both USC and UConn were rallying so hard for breast awareness was because both coaches knew of your relationship with your grandma.

After taking a few more deep breaths, you felt calm enough to rejoin your team as they warmed up their shooting. Looking around, you laid eyes on Paige, who was silently stretching in the corner. You took her in - her blonde hair was up in her typical game day do, with her braids in the front and the rest of her hair collected into a tight ponytail. She looked good, her cheeks slightly rosy, her eyes concentrated. You felt your heatt flutter as you examined her, but your heart suddenly dropped when you realized what she was wearing.

You knew this was bad idea, but you couldn’t help yourself. You found your legs pacing towards Paige, carrying you with a level of authority you didn’t know you had.

“What the fuck is this?”

Paige turned around, her resistance band now hanging limp in her hand. She did a double take once she realized who’d just spoken to her, her eyes carefully and unashamedly taking you in. “What?”

You gestured aggressively at her ahirt. “Take it off.”

Paige’s eyes hardened as she leaned back from you. “Excuse me?”

“I said, take it off.” Your voice was icy and unfamiliar to your own ears. In your peripheral vision, you saw heads starting to turn, as girls from both teams watched with curiosity as you stepped closer to Paige, anger drawn on both of your faces.

“Where did you even get it from?” Your voice trembled as you studied Paige’s shirt again. It was familiar to you, because you had the exact same one, just in different colors, hanging up in your room. It was your grandma’s jersey, from her high school team in the 1960s. As far as you knew, she only had a few, and she’d given one to you, one that you’d viligantly taken care of since you’d received it.

Paige raised her chin defiantly. “She gave it to me.”

Those words knocked you off your feet, and you stumbled even though you’d been standing still. “No, she didn’t.” Paige only gritted her teeth without responding. Desperate for a reaction, for anything than just silence, you continued, “She wasn’t even your grandma.” It was a low blow, and you knew it. Over the course of your friendship and then relationship, Paige had gotten almost as close to your grandma as you were. They had adored each other, and back then you had loved the way they loved each other. But now, you couldn’t seem to hate anything more.

You were spiraling, a destructive disarray of grief and bitterness and jealousy. When your grandma had died two months ago, you’d wished that Paige would’ve done more then send a couple of DMs on Twitter. But she didn’t, hadn’t reached out after that, which you couldn’t exactly blame her for because she owed no obligation to comfort you. You guys weren’t even dating anymore. But you’d hopelessly wanted Paige to do more, to show up on your doorstep and take you into her arms.

Paige, seemingly unaffected by your desperate words, regarded you coolly. “How would you know?” she asked menacingly, the hostility in her tone sending shivers down your spine. “You weren’t even there for her in the last few months.” She paused before landing her final blow. “But guess who was?” Her eyebrows cocked as she brushed past you and went back to her team on the court.

It felt like Paige had physically hit you, the way your heart stuttered and your mind reeled. You clenched your first, wishing you’d never came over here in the first place.

“Hey.” A gentle hand brushed your shoulder. Familiar perfume filled your nostrils, and you turned around to see Caroline.

Holding back a sob, she opened her arms and you fell into them. This was too much. Your nasty exchange with Paige, combined with the loss of your grandma still achingly fresh in your mind, along with the guilt of seeing the team that you’d left without so much as a goodbye. You’d been avoiding their looks the entire warmup. Nika had tried to talk to you earlier, but you’d brushed her off. And now, Caroline was standing in front of you, with the softest smile on her face as if you hadn’t ghosted her for the last year.

Caroline, one of your closest friends from your two years at UConn, comfortingly rubbed your back as you embraced her. When you pulled back, you almost couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry,” you rasped, looking down.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” The kindness in her tone almost sent you into another fit.

“But I do.” You bit your bottom lip. “I transferred to USC without telling any of you guys. And when I left, I didn’t even bother to say goodbye. All I did was send a stupid text.” You kicked the ground, chastising yourself for how you’d treated your closest friends.

“You were hurting.” Caroline squeezed your arms. “We all understand. None of us are mad, alright? We all just miss you.” When you didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed with guilt, she nudged you. “You wanna make it up to us?”

You nodded quickly. Anything.

“Come hang with us after. At my place. No bar, nothing public. Just you and us. We can catch up, you can tell us all about USC and we’ll give you all the latest drama here.”

Thoughts of Pauge flashed through your mind before you shut it down. It was time to stop putting your feelings over Paige before your friends. You had to rebuild the gap, for the sake of the girls that you loved. “I’ll be there,” you responded, and Caroline’s eyes lit up with a grin.

“Great,” she beamed. “And about your grandma. I’m so sorry, babe. She was a really good person.”

You nodded. “Thank you. She really was.” Caroline gave you one last hug before you both parted ways to finish warming up before the game.

———————————-

Sweat dripped off your temples. You blinked roughly, trying to stave off the fogginess creeping in at the edge of your vision. Your muscles ached, screaming for oxygen and a break from the constant back-and-forth of the game. Whenever you opened your mouth, your throat burned from all the screaming you’d done over the past hour to attempt to communicate as well as UConn was doing.

It was no use. You’d been part of the UConn system before, and the drills that Geno had spent hours on, making sure you guys talked through every play, calling out unders or overs on screens, back door cuts, and picks, made the defensive coordination of UConn the best in the nation. Your team was starting to loosen at the seams and fall behind, and you could sense it.

The entire game had been intense, a battle of aggression between the two teams seemingly fueled by the personal vendettas between you and Paige, each captains of your respective teams. She was relentless, having scored 30 points with 2 minutes left in the last quarter. You’d yet to defend her, which was a relief. You didn’t know if you could bear all the aggressive contact, the tensions, the overflow of emotions that would occur once you started to guard her.

After Aaliyah posted up to score another latup, Gottlieb signaled for a time out. “Alright,” she declared, focusing her eyes on you. “You’re taking Paige. I want you to press her hard. Keep your weight off your heels and don’t cross your feet.”

You squirted water into your mouth, nodding. You guys were down by 5 points, and shutting down Paige was the main priority right now. USC broke, but Juju grabbed your arm. “Hey,” she said lowly. “Keep your emotions out of this, alright? Focus on the game.”

You clenched your jaw, avoiding eye contact with your best friend. “I got it. I want to win just as much as you do.”

“Okay.” Juju clearly didn’t believe you, but she released your arm and jogged back to her spot. You rolled back your shoulders. Right now was not the time to think about how Paige was looking at you, or how her girlfriend was sitting court-side, just a few feet from your assigned spot. You wiped the bottom of your shoes, trying to get rid of the sweat in your palms and add some traction to your feet. Leslie eyed you the entire time, smacking her gum loudly. “Come on, Paige!” she cheered with an obnoxious grin as soon as she made eye contact with you. You clenched your jaw, feeling Juju give you a warning look from across the court.

One of your teammates unbounded the ball, and you took off across the court. Rayah stepped out to set a screen, but you drove baseline away from it. You received the ball as you reached the post, and you passed it to Juju, who was waiting at the 3. The play ran beautifully, but as the ball arched towards Juju, a hand reached up and knocked it down.

Paige grabbed the ball and passed it down the court to Nika. You sprinted to defense, heart pumping, fueled by the humiliation of getting a pass intercepted, and by Paige of all people. You reached Nika, lunging for the ball in a desperate last second attempt, but she side stepped you for the layup, sending you flying across the floor.

You heard the oohs of the crowds as you landed hard on your butt, your ankle twisted underneath you. Biting your lip to muffle your shout of pain, you clenched your jersey to try and assuage the throbbing in your tailbone and leg.

You heard a commotion around you, and suddenly there was Paige, standing above you, concern etched into her eyebrow. She held out a hand, but Juju quickly appeared, bending down to touch your elbow and offering her own hand. Ignoring Paige, you wrapped both of your hands around Juju’s as she heaved you up.

Paige stepped back, her mouth in an unforgiving line. “You okay?” she asked, tone haughty and neutral.

“She’s fine,” Juju snapped, stepping protectively between the two of you. “Give her some space, will you?”

Paige held her hands up in surrender and took a couple steps back. Her gaze on you stayed with unwavering intensity, though. But you avoided it, like you’d done the entire game, and let the trainer examine you.

“You good?” Nika ran up to you, chest heaving. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah.” You smiled in reassurance at her. “Not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

Nika nodded as the trainer helped you up and led you off the court. Paige’s gaze burned into your back, but when you turned around, she quickly averted her eyes.

You hadn’t injured yourself, only taken a rough fall, but you still sat on the bench for the remaining minute of the game. Unfortunately, with your dominating presence out, USC couldn’t catch up, and your team lost by a single heartbreaking point.

You walked slowly as USC and UConn formed lines to wish each other a good game. You’d been nervous beforehand, thinking about what to say to the girls, but Caroline had told the truth. None of them seemed to have anything against you, all pulling you in for a tight hug and telling you how good you played and how much they missed you. So although you were exhausted and your ankle was starting to throb again, you knew that you had to go to Caroline’s hangout.

—————————-

“Oh my god, come in!” You chuckled as Azzi opened the door and practically started jumping on her heels from excitement. You grabbed Juju’s hand and led her in from behind you. She was there for backup, a familiar face in a sea of once familiar faces. When you’d asked the Uconn girls if she could come, they’d all happily agreed, saying that they’d been wanting to meet the freshman phenom that had taken the basketball world by storm.

The girls were scattered around Caroline’s apartment. Some of them were sprawled on the couch, watching an NBA game as if they hadn’t had enough basketball for the night. Others were drinking wine in the kitchen and picking at a charcuterie board. Thankfully, you didn’t see any sign of a blonde when you scanned the room, and let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“Hey guys, this is Juju.” Juju waved her hand shyly, and everyone clambered up to meet her. You smiled at the scene. Despite rivalries on the court and the vigor that UConn played with, you knew they left behind all of that once the shot clock buzzed for the final time. These girls were the nicest you’d ever met, welcoming everyone as their own.

You and Juju found a spot on the couch. You were almost getting comfortable before the door swung open and a familiar laugh filled the room. You didn’t bother to look up, trying to play it cool, but when Juju laid a hand on your arm in warning the same time an unfamiliar voice resonated, you realized that a certain brunette had came too.

Masking your face with indifference, you congratulated yourself for having the power to control your facial expression once Paige and Leslie tumbled into the family room, Leslie’s hands attached to Paige’s waist as they both laughed, obviously already having put some drinks into their system before coming here. You ignored the silence that had fallen over the rest of the team as they realized the awkwardness of the situation.

“I’m so sorry,” Caroline mouthed from her spot on the armchair. “I didn’t know she was gonna be here.”

You only shrugged, your eyes focused on your lap as you tried to maintain your facade of apathy. Juju shifted closer to you in support, and you’d never loved her more.

“Okay!” Caroline said brightly, cutting through the heavy tension in the room. “Who wants a margarita?” All the girls cheered, and the ambience in the apartment returned as conversations resumed.

This is only awkward if you let it be awkward, you thought. You and Paige had broken up over a year ago. You could be civil. You were so over her. But you knew you were lying from the way your insides jolted when Leslie leaned in to press a loud kiss on Paige’s cheek.

Soon, some of the girls started recording Tiktoks and doing silly dances. You turned down their offers to make a cameo in their videos, content with just watching. As you observed rhem, it dawned on you how much you’d missed them. Their silliness made you laugh in a way you hadn’t laughed at in a long time. Throughout the entire night, you tried to pretend as if Paige and Leslie didn’t exist, although it was hard with the exuberant amount of PDA they were showing. They were sitting on each other’s laps, their hands wandering, and they weren’t making out but you almost wish they were so that you wouldn’t have to see either of their faces.

“Paige! Did you come here to celebrate or eye fuck your girlfriend the entire time?” KK yelled, waving a Nintendo controller. “Come play Smash Bros.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she caught the controller that KK threw at her. She wrapped around Leslie, who was still on top her lap, and started to press buttons on the controller as she chose her chatacter. You stiffened at the memory of Paige doing the exact same thing with you, all those late nights she’d played Fortnite with the team, you falling asleep with your head in the crook of her neck as she gamed. It’d always ended with her carrying you to bed, tucking you in and wrapping her arms around yours.

“Watch out KK,” Leslie joked. “P is a beast at Smash Bros.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at smashing,” Paige teased, her words dripping with sexual undertones. Everyone groaned, and Leslie giggled, a high pitched and screeching noise that you thought could be used as torture for prisoners if put on replay.

Leslie reached for her margarita, but her movements were sluggish from her tipsy state, causing the alcohol to slosh over the side of the cocktail glass. Immediately, Paige jumped up, hurriedly removing Leslie from her lap as she examined herself. It was only then that you realized that Paige had taken off the sweater she’d arrived with and was now in your grandma’s jersey, a jersey that now sported a large wet stain.

“Leslie, oh my god.” She yelled, her voice panicked. “I told you to be careful.”

“Oh shit, my bad.” Leslie set down her drink and reached for Paige, who stepped backwards and away from her touch.

“You fucker.” The words were out of your mouth before you knew it, and all eyes in the room turned to you. Juju kicked you nervously, but you ignored her. “How could you?” You rushed over to Paige, looking closely at the jersey now reeking with alcohol. You held back tears as you saw the print already starting to fade. The jersey was 60 years old, already fragile and old, and you knew that it was now as good as ruined.

Paige turned to Leslie. “I thought I told you not to fucking drink while you were around me. You know how important this jersey is to me.”

Leslie stood rigid, her expression now calculated. “You guys are being so dramatic. Let me have the jersey. I’ll go wash it and bring it back good as new.”

“Don’t you dare fucking touch it.” You turned from Leslie, gently touching the frayed ends with shaky fingers. “You can’t just wash it. It’ll fall apart. Oh my god, you just ruined one of the only things my grandma left us.” Your voice was choked now, tears forming at your eyes. “Shit!” You slammed your first into the ground in anger.

The team exchanged hesitant looks, worry clear in their eyes. Juju came up from behind you. “Come on, babe,” she whispered. “I’m sure we can do something about it. Let me take a look, hmm?”

You moved aside, but from the look on Juju’s face as the faded patches and stressed seams became visible as she studied it, you knew there was no use. The tears started falling then, an uncontrollable stream that left you feeling broken. “Excuse me,” you whimpered, and you ran into the bathroom, locking yourself inside.

You heard murmurs of the team outside. You heard the front door slam. Soon, someone knocked softly on the door. “It’s Juju,” your friend called, and you resignedly unlocked the door and let her inside before shutting it again.

You slumped down on the ground, you face in your hands. “Oh,” Juju whispered, and she knelt down next to you as you started to sob.

Another knock came in, followed by a tentative voice calling your name. You exchanged looks with Juju, who got up and slipped outside.

“Are you serious right now?” Juju’s voice was muffled, but you could still hear the fury radiating from her words. “You know you’re the reason she’s crying right now?”

“I know.” A pause. “I need to apologize.”

“She doesn’t wanna see you right now.”

You heard Paige‘s sharp intake of breath. “Juju, please.”

You could practically feel Juju’s hesitance, but she must‘ve relented, because when the door opened, it was Paige who stepped in.

[sanzaibian]

I look at my watch, it’s already 3 PM. He is one hour late, although I feel that he’s not as much late as he is not coming.

I sigh, and go back to the locker room. I wanted to surprise him by waiting in the lobby shirtless, but after so much time loitering and being told off multiple times by the staff, I guess I must cut my losses. I knew that he wasn’t all that fussed about me wish for a second date in the gym, even if he seems to be a health nut, but still, ghosting me like that really hurts…

As I walk next to the mirrors in the locker room, I look at my body.

Honestly, with a body like that, guys should be drooling and yearning to be my boyfriend ! Yet, when I go on Grindr to find dates, I can only find people who will take me for a quick fuck, and never agree to anything further along… And this is why, no matter how fat my muscles are, how much hair is dusted on my body, how symmetric my face is, or just… how conventionally attractive to a gay audience I may be, I find myself waiting for a whole hour for a prince charming who will never come.

With a disappointed face, I walk towards my locker. By now, it’s no use to try and squeeze in an actual workout in addition to that whole hour full of variants of nothing – not that I really want to work out at all. However, as I reach my locker, I suddenly notice Ilham standing there in gym clothes, that he has presumably just put on.

I guess you can call him a friend ? In the barest of sense ? We do talk sometimes, only the bare minimum, but he’s always the one who leads the conversation… Well, you can’t fault me he’s so ridiculously hot without even trying, it makes me feel self-conscious even when I look how I look ! And, as if on queue, he notices my gloomy expression, and immediately confronts me about it.

“Hey Vítor ! Good workout ? Why do you look so sad like that ?” He asks, way too energetic for the situation. - Ah, it’s nothing, I had a gym date, but I was ghosted…” I answer succinctly. I don’t want to dwell on it too much. - Oh…” I can almost see the gears turning in his head, as he tries to makes sense of what I say, before he gets it. “Oh ! I’m so sorry, bro ! What a bitch to abandon you like this ! Ya know, I know a few girls I could hook you up with, I’m sure they wouldn’t do that ! - I’m sorry, girls won’t do.” I smile at his answer. “Once again, I’m gay ! - Sorry bro, I forgot again ! I swear I can make up to you !” He apologies.

He’s Azerbaijani, and due to how homosexuality is seen over there, he has a really hard time conceiving of masculine gay people. But he tries, and that’s by far the most important.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry ! But I won’t hold you up too much, especially since I already butchered my workout by waiting for him.” I urge him, as I do want to come home sooner than later. - Oh, too bad… then see you next time, bro ! Have a good afternoon ! - Have a good workout !”

He smiles to me while I wave him goodbye, visibly trying to empathize with me, before leaving the locker room in a small trot. This is how far our “friendship” goes, just simple courtesy when we see each other in the gym, which isn’t often since I don’t have a lot of time to go in the first place, and nothing beyond. I could likely try to deepen our relationship, but I feel we don’t actually have much in common, since he’s much more of a social butterfly than I’ll ever be, no matter how eager he may seem to get to know me, with all of these allusions of making me meet people or inviting me to parties.

Finally reaching my locker, I open it and find inside all my regular clothes, my phone and my other belongings, as expected. However, I also find a small piece of paper inside.

Curious, I examine it, and notice that there are actually stuff written on it. Handwritten. A secret message ? In the gym ? That’s weird…

It reads :

“You with no name and no house, do not forget who you are.”

I try to find a signature of any kind, but I do not find anything but this… warning ? poem ? I don’t really know what it’s supposed to be…

But whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to have much substance. I guess it’s not that important for me to take further notice of.

I stick the piece of paper inside my bag and take my clothes. I’m happy to have thought of taking two sets of clothing, since with loitering this long in the lobby, the staff needs to see me leaving, even if it originally was in order to have something to wear for the after-workout date. So I change, I stock everything in my bag, and leave the gym, bidding farewell to the staff at the same time.

Once I’m out of the gym, I look around to find somewhere secluded enough. I wouldn’t want to do anything in public, after all. So I walk around a bit, until I find a public bathhouse, in which I enter, since it is perfect for what I’m about to do.

See, I have quite a big secret… or rather, you know the secret, but you don’t know why it is a secret…

Suddenly, my muscles start mellowing out, my abs fading, while the rest seem to deflate. My pecs start retreating inside my body while my shoulders narrow, losing at the same time all the muscle mass making them fuse into my neck. My v-line disappears, my calves and my arms thin out, and I’m losing mass all round. At the same time, the light dusting of hair on my torso starts thinning out, just like my big beard, losing loads of length until only a few short hairs on my lip and on my chin remain. My hair also grows wildly, covering my forehead in messy coiled hair, losing any order it may have had. And as both of these processes come to an end, I lose a few centimeters of height, while my face rearranges to become more square, my facial features arrange themselves in a less symmetrical way, until it all becomes… well… not a model’s face, just a normal guy’s face.

Here is the secret : the guy that was in the gym wasn’t the real Vítor Nunes. This is the real Vítor Nunes. Just a normal guy, a bit skinny-fat, a bit twinky, a bit nerdy, but most of all an unremarkable guy. And that normal unremarkable guy gets out of his big clothes to go into his small clothes, complete with jeans and a red t-shirt. When everything is secure, I go back out to the street to head to the cafe I go to every time after the gym.

I think I owe you an explanation.

The way I look right now is the way I always looked – well, minus aging. However, one day, about a year ago if my memory serves me right, I suddenly gained the ability to transform. I still don’t know what caused it, but all of a sudden, when I concentrate, I can change my body to reflect what I have in mind.

Of course, I’m gay, so my first instinct when I discovered this gift was to give myself big muscles, and so they magically grew. God, I loved it, it was so exciting to see my muscles swell in the mirror, it’s really a one-of-a-kind experience ! However, this is also when I learned of the limits of this power : it’s actually really uncomfortable to maintain another form for too long, especially when it’s quite far from my normal form. If you have that experience, it’s a bit like when you are in high heels, everything starts to become tricky to do (don’t ask me how I know that). That’s why when I tried to become a woman, it was so uncomfortable I could barely remain like that for a few seconds before I made my boobs go away. Therefore, while I have access to a very hot persona, I can’t maintain it forever, meaning it’s not actually that useful aside from some kind of party trick.

However, the temptation was always too strong.

I used to be a virgin, both in sex and in romance, and the dream of prince charming was a reoccurring one, especially for someone as lonely as I am. However, with this power, I could spend some time in another body, in a body in which I could look like god amongst men. And so, the Vítor Nunes you saw, the one well-thought out to be as attractive for gay men as I could think of, was born. And it’s using his body that I lost my virginity in what could be its own sub-story.

But it never went beyond that, a quick one-night stand, even though I looked very hot and not very picky. I don’t even know what I am doing wrong ! Like, sure, when I’m on dates, the other guy always wants to directly fuck, but still ! Suddenly, someone hails me.

“Hey ! Vítor ! You hear me ?”

I’m jerked out of my thoughts, and quickly cobble an answer.

“Oh, er… hey, Satoshi ! I… didn’t notice you here ! - Well, I noticed.” He answers me, dryly.

He’s always been quite dry with me, and I don’t know why. We go to the same university, and are in the same curriculum in writing, although most of our classes reflect our different paths throughout this degree. So we talked in the few classes we had in common, but nothing more, really. I guess he’s the closest person I could classify as a “friend”, and even that is a stretch. Recently, though, he’s been acting quite weirdly. I know that he’s started attending the gym, and he’s also bleached his hair. I wonder if he is trying to impress someone or what...

“What are you doing in this part of town ?” He asks me. - Oh, I… I was just at the gym, I want to be healthier, you see…” I half-lie, hoping he will be convinced. - I see…” He looks at me, squinting. He doesn’t seem convinced. “Well, what matters is that you become the real you. Now, I’m sorry, but I need to go. Bye.”

What ? What was he mumbling ? I look at him as he continues his way opposite to where I’m heading. He seems to be in quite the hurry, I wonder where he’s heading… Recently, he hasn’t got a lot of time, I always find him almost avoiding talking to people, and always disappearing once class is dismissed. Is gym this much of a time-eater or does he also have something I don’t know of ? … N-not that it interests me this much, of course, that’s his own private life !

Ugh… To save myself from my own thoughts, I enter the cafe and go at the back of the file. When I’m finally at the counter, I go to order, before the woman behind the counter, Sandra, recognizes me. I’m a regular at this cafe, after all.

“Hey Vítor, I didn’t expect you this early ! - Yeah, I had something to do with someone, but he never showed up.” I once again lie by omission, though I admittedly give her a more accurate picture. - Oh, I’m so sorry for you !” She brings her hand on her mouth to empathize with me. She’s always been very expressive. “But speaking of people not showing up, I’m guessing you want an americano, like usual ? - Yes ?” I answer, unsure where she’s heading with this. - Well that’s great ! Because a kind soul actually bought you one !”

Smiling, she gives me an already prepared americano, to which a piece of paper is attached, that I take with a confused look.

“And… to whom I owe the honor ?” In ask her. - Well, that person asked to remain anonymous ! But they told me that you should be able to piece together who they are thanks to this piece of paper I attached !” She answers, radiating in glee. Yeah, she also loves drama. - Okay… well, give them my thanks if you see them, I guess…”

I wave her goodbye and take place at an outside table. Another piece of paper ? It must be a coincidence, the consequences of it not being are way too scary for me to dwell on too much. Yet, when I read it, these consequences seem more and more like reality…

“For you really have a beautiful self, especially when you show your true face.”

It’s the same handwriting as the note I found at the gym ! Plus, when putting the two pieces of paper, it really does seem to be directly talking about my transformations… But who is it, and what do they want from me ? How did they find out about my secret ? And why this sudden… flirty tone ?

I sigh, and quickly drink my coffee. Due to the fact that it has already been prepared, it means that it’s a bit colder than usual, meaning it’s easier to drink. Wait… if it’s barely colder than usual… does this mean that the one having ordered it was here barely a few minutes ago ? But if it’s so, then how could they have slipped another piece of paper inside my locker ?

The caffeine starts hitting my brain, making me mull over the facts and imagine who could be the one to deliver these notes. Whoever they are, they seem to know my routine, since they knew that I would go to this cafe after the gym. It means that it’s very likely someone I know, or at least someone whose face I have already seen. They also have been witness to one of my transformations somehow, so they’ve likely hung out at the gym… or been one of my earlier dates perhaps ?

Everything is confusing, I just cannot find a way to make sense of all of that ! And… what will happen now that my secret is revealed ? Am I suddenly going to become a lab rat, as my weird condition is revealed to all ? Am I going to have to perform weird or even illegal tasks to stave off outing of my power ? Am I going to be recruited by a criminal organization in order to perform heists as an unknown person ?

Looking at my empty cup, I understand I’ve now gone too far in my thoughts. I’m likely not going to be coerced by a criminal ringleader to commit crimes. That’s ridiculous.

I dispose of my cup and head home. I’ve seen enough today, and I really need an actual break. So I take the bus, a few connecting ones until I’m finally back where I live. Before entering, I quickly go to check if there’s anything in the mailbox. And as if on queue, there is, some random account statements and other official stuff… and another of those papers.

They know where I live ! Now I can actually be scared ! For sure they’re going to make me do crimes or intern me inside a research center, I know it ! Shaking, I take out the piece of paper, and read it. It is written with the same handwriting as the others, so it confirms the fact that they do know a lot about me, but… er… eh ? Here is what it says :

“You are always worthy of love, so never forget the above.”

Wait wait wait, from the beginning, the flirty was what it was all actually about ? It is a love declaration ? … I guess it does rule out the criminal possibility… So who could it be ?

Thinking about it… It can’t be Sandra at the cafe, her shift wouldn’t let her go in the gym when I was there, and she was the one saying that they bought the coffee and left me the message. It can’t be Satoshi, although he could have bought me coffee, he couldn’t put the message in my locker, since I didn’t see him entering the gym, and he was actually walking towards the gym when I saw him. Plus, he’s so dry with me I’d think he hates me before I’d think he loves me. It can’t be Ilham, although he could have put his message in my locker before I entered, he’s currently at the gym, so he couldn’t buy me coffee. Plus, to my knowledge, he’s straight, and he’s still learning English, so he couldn’t have written such a complicated “poem”.

And I didn’t see anyone else during my little trip, so it could literally be anyone else !

But wait… looking back at the three pieces of paper, of the sequence they put together… it reminds me of something… I open my door and quickly make my way to my computer. I need to check something. To check a certain creative writing homework I had in first year.

And finding it… yes. I was correct. This is directly taken from it. The homework we did in duo back in first year of college. It’s weird… is it… really him ?

I close back up my computer, put down all of my stuff while continuing to mull over this revelation. But all of my thinking leads me to one conclusion and one only : I need to call him. So I take out my phone and do just that.

“Hello, Vítor ? Why do you call me ?” He asks, picking up almost immediately after me calling. - I just wanted to ask… do you remember our creative homework, back in first year ? - Yeah, I do, of course I do. - And… have you recently used it for anything ?”

I hear a sigh. Of course I was right.

“So you understood that it was me. I think we both have things to say to each other, so let us meet. - I guess we do.”

And so I go back out of my house, back to where it all started. Back to the gym. I walk for a bit, take a few buses, and when I’ve finally arrived, none other than Satoshi was waiting for me in front of the gym.

“Hello again, Satoshi.” I hail him. “So, you said we had to discuss ? - Yes. Let me be clear at first : I know that you have a muscular alter-ego that you can become. I don’t know why, or how, but I know you do. - How… did you know ?” I ask, a bit anxious, while he smiles at my question. - Well, you see… since the beginning of the year, you’ve been quite absent, and it made me quite worried.” He began recounting, feeling in his way of speaking way more personal and warm. “Honestly, while at first I thought to myself that you can have your own life, and that I shouldn’t interfere with it, your presence started to feel… missing.”

Huh, I didn’t know that I turned him down this much when I discovered my power. I thought that everything was just going as usual, only talking while in public transports and all… Yeah, I guess since I started going to the gym to get hookups, I changed my route after class, meaning that it overlapped less… I didn’t consider that…

“So, one day, I decided to follow you. Discreetly, of course, until you went to that gym. I… I didn’t know why you would go in there, but following you, I saw you entering a changing room… and out left a muscular man. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that it was you. - So this is how you understood that I had powers… - Yes. But this is not the end of my tale. Because I then thought of why I cared so much about you not being available. It wasn’t the first time someone would more or less abandon me out of the blue like that, but it was the first time I was this agitated. Especially because our relationship wasn’t that deep, all things considered. This lead me to the conclusion that I… er... want to spend more time with you, and made me realize that… in truth… er…” He blushes, suddenly trailing off and having a hard time to articulate clearly. “That… that I’m in love with you.”

Although I expected it, I still blush. He’s so straightforward ! And… it’s so unexpected, all things considered ! I guess I still had in mind the possibility that he was just trying to hype me up, somehow ?

“And what really angers me most,” He continues “is that you are overt there trying to be as ‘masculine’, as ‘beautiful’ or anything else to woo people, even though you’re already great the way you are ! And how you sabotage yourself by catering to this image of yourself you invented, going to the gym and all…”

I don’t know what to say. I guess I’ve been really focused in being as much of a gym rat as I could, else my cover would be ridiculous…

“Is it like that ?” I can finally manage. “That people don’t bye the muscular self I have ? - No. I- I don’t think that’s it. It’s more that you do it too well, so they don’t see you as anything more than a gym rat. I guess it all feels wrong and not personal, because it’s not you ! You’re forcing yourself to be someone you’re not ! B-but… since I have the privilege of knowing who you really are… I want to say that the real you is more. It’s beautiful, and warrants love…” He says, blushing even more. - H-how are you saying this with a straight face…” I answer, smiling, while being swept by the wave of awkwardness he radiates. - I’m not… But I really want to tell you what things really are. Because you deserve it.” He takes a large inspiration. “So. Do you want to go out with me ?”

By now, I fully knew what was coming.

And I know my answer.

“Yes, I do.”

“Hey, I’m home !” I announce, coming back home.

However, I do not find any answer to my call, even though Satoshi is supposed to come to my house this evening. He’s likely not there yet, I’m sure taken by his work, meaning that it’s going to be at least a small while until he makes it here.

I smirk. I know what to do to him. He will hate that, but it will be way too fun an opportunity to pass up. So I go to my room, completely undress, and take out some of the special clothes I still have stashed in the corner of my cupboard. In particular, I take out a very big par of jeans, the kind that would usually never fit me.

Then, all of a sudden, I feel my muscles tense up. They’re pulsating, getting progressively bigger and bigger. My pecs are the most noticeable of all of them, rounding up and sagging down in big globes attached to my torso, but everything else gains in mass. My shoulders crack as they’re pushing apart, muscles growing between them and my neck, and a light dusting of black hair starts appearing on them. They descend all over my body, on my torso, beneath my armpits, in my crotch, and on my legs. My crotch also embiggens, the hose hiding inside taking more and more place, while on the rear side my ass cheeks firm up, and gets bigger just like the pecs upstairs.

As it all happens, my face also itches, as the little hairs that are on it start growing, elongating my face at the same time. These hair grow all over my chin into a long beard, while on my lip they only grow denser. At the same time, my face rearranges to become more conventionally attractive, more symmetrical, and my hair starts shortening a bit, and becoming more well-kept.

As the last few details of my transformation arrange themselves, I put the large jeans on, not even bothering to put on underwear before that. Yup, that’s very sexy alright, he’s gonna hate that ! And so my muscular self takes place in the living room, waiting for his beloved to come.

Because this time, I know my prince charming will come.

================================================

Hey ! A story (that was again hard to write) for the last few hours of Pride Month, if it's even still on in your part of the world ! ^^'

I hope we in the TF community can recognize all the colors of the rainbow and all the letters of the acronym, including bi (and similar identities) and trans people ! And I also hope that we can all help to build, each to our ability, a better and more tolerant world (especially in the face of the rise of hateful ideologies around the world, yes I'm quivering at the results of my elections ^^')

So yeah, happy pride, everyone !

[diamond-champagne]

7. Do You Miss Me?

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: None that I know of but please let me know!

a/n: We're kind of approaching the end so please give me requests on what I should write next! Thanks for the love, besties <3 It means more than yous know!

New Years Eve

The balloons and confetti fill the air while bottles of booze litter the table. The UConn Womens’ Basketball team; along with the rest of the UConn athletes, have taken their New Year's festivities to a club. It’s loud and packed. It makes the perfect distraction which is what Azzi needs. 

After her nauseating conversation with Caroline, the curly-haired girl was left to face the truth about her relationship with Paige. It’s fragile but teetering. Every interaction pushes it closer to being destroyed; yet it sits on edge, slightly wobbly, but intact. Azzi knows she’s to blame for the current state of their friendship. Though they’ve had rough patches, she never thought it would get this bad. The pair haven’t had a real conversation in weeks; both doing everything they could to avoid the other. In the three conversations they have had, they argue. It’s exhausting, but Azzi is grateful for the disagreements. It means that there’s still some fight left in Paige. Some fight left for them.

Despite how happy she is to be fighting with the blonde, she wishes that they were making up more. The brown-eyed girl has missed her counterpart over the last month. The two don’t have designated time to spend together anymore, don’t go out of their way to borrow the other’s clothes, or simply just cuddle. Azzi misses Paige. It’s not a new concept as their entire friendship is based on missing each other but Azzi is desperate to have the blue-eyed girl near her. She misses the presence of her best friend more than anything. 

She wonders if Paige misses her too. 

Though she imagines that the blonde-haired girl doesn’t because across the club, Paige is making her way to Cameron. Azzi watches as the football player notices the blonde making her way to him. Azzi watches as she slips into the space next to him; pressing her side into his as his arm snakes around her shoulders protectively.

It’s a nauseating sight that results in Azzi throwing back her shot and quickly ordering another one. And another one. And another one. 

“You should slow down,” Caroline says as she sits down next to Azzi.​​ The sentiment, while appreciated, does nothing to deter the curly-haired girl from ordering another shot. She’s being irresponsible, this much she knows, but she needs to forget. She needs to not feel. “It’s New Years Eve. I’m allowed to get drunk.” the girl grumbles out. It’s hard over the music but her teammate hears every word. “You are,” Caroline agrees, “But New Years isn’t why you’re sitting at the bar, drinking alone.”

Azzi turns to face the couple on the other side of the club. She watches as they talk to one of the football player’s teammates. Paige laughs at something and throws her head back. Azzi wonders if Cam loves that sound the way she does. Or does he prefer her giggle that she probably lets out when they engage in banter? 

These thoughts and more occupy the curly-haired girl’s mind more than she’d care to admit. The thoughts alone are suffocating but to watch is like dying a thousand deaths. So Azzi doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, she downs her shot before heading to the floor to dance. The younger girl isn’t sure how long. All she knows is that Waka Flocka turned into Pitbull which turned into Lady Gaga. It doesn’t matter though, because Paige is still connected at the hip to Cam, and Azzi still wishes that was her instead. 

-

Azzi is drunk. The younger girl is standing in the club bathroom with 30 minutes to midnight trying to get herself together. She came in to use the bathroom but that proved to be difficult when she couldn’t even stand straight. The basketball player eventually got that much figured out but couldn’t really do much else besides hold onto the sink for balance. 

The brown-haired girl had just about gotten a hold on herself when a group of girls walk in. Two immediately head towards the big mirror by the sink Azzi is currently occupying. The other two girls head into the stalls but the conversation between the group never falters; which is the only reason Azzi is able identify one the girls as Riley. In fact, the volleyball player is looking at her through the mirror. 

Azzi is drunk but she isn’t drunk enough for this. She supposes she can’t be surprised. Riley is a volleyball player and most of the UConn athletes are at this club tonight. Still, seeing your ex that broke up with you because of your feelings for your best friend who you still aren’t with is very uncomfortable. Talking to them even more so.

“Hi, Az-”

“Hey, Rile-”

They both start but before laughing. The tensitiy in the air lessens and the athletes watch as the other’s body relaxes. Suddenly, talking to each other isn’t that bad but then again, it could be the alcohol. 

“How are you?” Azzi asks.

“I’m good. How are you? How’s Paige?” Riley replies. The answer must reveal itself on Azzi’s face though, because the volleyball player’s eyes widen before she snaps her head in the direction of the taller girl. “You aren’t together?”

The basketball player shakes her head no and Riley’s eyes widen even more. “Listen, I know I said a lot of things that night but I never would have imagined that you two didn’t figure it out.” Azzi laughs in response. “Well, it doesn’t help that she asked if I have feelings for her and I walked out of her apartment.” The statement earns her a slap on the arm and a scolding from the shorter athlete next to her. 

“Why would you do that? It’s obvious that you do!”

“I’m scared,” Azzi starts. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that allows her to be this open because her next words have never been spoken. “I’m fucking terrifed of loving her. I’m terrified of her loving me. Every single time I look into her eyes, she’s got these intense emotions pooling in them and I don’t know how to handle that. Paige looks at me like I’m her forever. She looks at melike I can hang the stars and the moon. Fuck, she’s just so intense and sometimes I worry about it being too much. Sometimes I worry about being too little.” 

“You’re a coward, a liar, and a thief.” Riley states. She says it even toned and softly as if all three of those words were not insults of some kind. 

“Excuse me?” Azzi exclaims. The insult clearly catching her off guard. 

“It’s the truth,” Riley shrugs. “You’re a coward, a liar, and a thief. Until you begin to work on that, allowing yourself to be happy will be hard. You’re self sabotaging and you don’t even know it.”

The basketball player isn’t exactly sure how to respond. She watches as her ex moves toward the bathroom door before turning around.

“Once you figure it out, I hope you get everything you want.” and then she’s out the door. Azzi shakes her head and checks her phone for the time. She tries not to give what Riley said another thought, at least not while she’s this intoxicated. 

There’s five minutes until midnight. 

Azzi walks out of the bathroom and heads towards the section occupied by her teammates, and Cam. A bitter feeling creeps up Azzi’s throat and invades her senses. Would Paige kiss him at midnight? It’s a thought that produces sickening images in the younger girls’ mind. Though as she reaches the section, all she can hear is her ex’s voice in the back of her mind.

I hope you get everything you want.

While she isn’t sober enough to work out whatever Riley thinks she needs to, Azzi can accept that she should after whatever she wants. It is a new year afterall. 

The words repeat themselves as the girls flood the floor along with the other athletes to start the countdown. Azzi can feel the tequila and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she watches Paige separate herself from the football player to be with their friends. 

10

Should she do it? Azzi thinks she passes through the club to get to Paige.

9

Maybe she shouldn’t. She continues walking anyway.

8

Coward. Azzi gets closer.

7

Liar. And closer.

6

I hope you get everything you want this year. 

5

They’re standing face to face.

4

Azzi pulls Paige closer.

3

“What are you doing?” Paige exclaimed

2

“Getting everything I want” 

1

Happy New Year!

Azzi crashes her lips onto Paige.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[yaksha-lover]

Track #2: Sunlight - Hozier Drabble Masterlist

Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

Summary: Azul treats everyone as a business arrangement. He thought it would be the same with you, until he realizes he’d much rather have you than your resources.

i. all the tales the same

An octopus has three hearts - that’s the explanation Azul’s mother would always give when he’d come home crying as a child. It was comforting, to explain away his sensitivity in a single phrase. You have to be more careful with yours, Azul, she’d say, rubbing his back. There’s more of you to break.

He understood what she meant far too well. Every tease, every taunt, every comment muttered behind his back (and most of the time to his face) was far too much for him to bear. They were only children, but so was he. Is it any wonder he’d stopped seeing people as more than transactional when all they’d seen him as was a joke?

If he didn’t care for them, if they were reduced to nothing but an inky signature, how could their words hurt him? They were nothing.

He thought you’d be nothing too.

You started off like most ‘relationships’ in his life; a business transaction. At least, that’s how he’d thought of you.

You, who was so blissfully kind and innocent, doe-eyed and naive, thought of him as a friend, and then eventually, more.

To him, you were easy prey. It would be simple to gain your friendship, your trust, maybe even your heart if he was so lucky. Then, it would be oh so simple to gain access to all that you could do for him.

ii. told before and told again

The plan requires more commitment than he’d realized, but he knows it will be worth it in the end. You, the sole heir of your father’s estate, will be in a position to let Azul gain access to a brand new market he’s been looking to expand into. If he has to play friend, he’s willing to do it.

You’re…lonelier than he expects. Azul isn’t exactly a social butterfly himself (at least, for non-business related reasons), but your eagerness to spend time with him certainly stems from more than just his ‘great companionship.’ He almost feels bad, for a moment, to lead you on, but he steels himself with the justification of his success.

You won’t mind, right? He gets your help, you get his friendship, even if it is manufactured. It’s an equal trade, he tells himself.

Spending all this time together, he learns things about you. Things that are disconcerting.

Azul hasn’t had trouble sleeping since he was a child. Everything he did was perfectly scheduled; how was he to function if not by keeping up a meticulous sleep cycle which guaranteed him a satisfying eight hours of rest per night?

He thinks you’re the reason he’s started lying awake. He can’t stop thinking about the things you’ve told him - maybe ‘let slip’ is the better term.

He’s used to coaxing information out of his clients; it’s good for business. Now he only wishes he wasn’t so good.

They aren’t so much secrets; it’s not as though you’ve made a great effort to hide them, only that no one has made an effort to look in the first place.

He’s played the dutiful friend long enough to know how…pitiful you can become after a night out or a hard day. He’s been there to take care of you, always making sure you get home safe or that you’re well fed. You’re a poor, unfortunate sight; you’re lucky it’s only Azul taking advantage of your resources and not someone much worse. His stomach churns at the thought of it - that’s one of the many things that keeps him up. It’s not that he’s worried; no, no, you were only a business arrangement of his. If anything were to happen to you, his whole plan could go to ruin.

That’s why he stays the night in your apartment, sleeping on the couch so he can check on you despite the fact that the commute will make him late for work and his back will hurt all day from the lumpy sofa. That’s why he can’t sleep, forced to make sure you’re sleeping soundly every few hours.

You’ll apologize in the morning for being a mess; you always do. The two of you put on a charade of sorts - you promise it won’t happen again, that you’re sorry for forcing him to take care of you (although you’d never asked a thing from him) and he pretends that none of it matters, that it’s not a big deal.

It’s only for the sake of business when he asks you to spend more time with him; if you’re not with your undesirable friends (who only get you into trouble, he thinks) then you (and his deal) will be safe. It’s certainly not because the last time he’d come to check on you, you’d had light bruises peppering your neck, almost as if someone had nipped at your skin gently and-

Azul perishes the thought from his mind. So what if he hasn’t won your heart? That’s not his goal, he doesn’t need your love to get your help, he’ll just-

iii. a soul that’s born in cold and rain

You kiss him, one night. You’re at his apartment, and it’s been a peaceful evening. He’d invited you over for dinner, cooking you one of the most recent dishes he’d been testing for his restaurant chain. The two of you had settled into his sofa, a movie playing in the background.

He noticed you hadn’t been paying attention; he was watching the screen, but you kept sneaking (not so subtle) glances at him every few seconds, putting him on edge. He turned to you, about to ask what was wrong, when you kissed him.

Your lips brush against his lightly; he almost wonders if he’d fallen asleep and was only dreaming the whole thing. He’d only just closed his eyes when he felt you pull away and begin to apologize for kissing him without asking. He can’t even form a response, only pulling you in to continue what you’d started.

Things only seem to spiral from there. Azul is, admittedly, a sensitive soul, perhaps too sentimental for his own good. He’d vowed to be utilitarian about his relationships; to view everyone only per their use value, and thus to never have to care. Caring, for him, typically meant getting hurt in some way, but he can’t quite help himself with you.

Your affection feels good. Your love is addicting. He refuses to let either of them go, thoughts of business and markets pushed to the furthest place in his mind.

It’s only natural, then, that the two of you quickly become closer than ever before. A toothbrush at his apartment quickly becomes you moving in; he’s a busy man, after all. What better way to see more of each other than living together (you practically spent all your time with him, anyway).

If you depend on him, that’s okay. That’s how it’s always been with the two of you, hasn’t it? He takes care of you, he always has.

iv. knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

He’s drifting off to sleep with you in his arms when he hears you speak.

“Azul?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I’m sorry.”

That makes him open his eyes. He moves to turn on the lamp, but you stop him. “Sorry? For what?”

“For taking advantage of you.”

That almost makes him laugh. “Pardon? I don’t seem to recall such a thing happening.”

“I know, Azul. You…you don’t need to pretend that you like me. I know you just want access to my father’s contacts. I knew since the beginning and I should’ve put a stop to it. I’m so, so sorry I just - you were so kind to me, and I couldn’t help but bask in your sunlight a little. But it’s gone too far. Look at us. You never should’ve had to become so close with me, it was wrong for me to hold on. For that, I’m sorry. There’s no need for us to continue this charade, I’ll give you the contacts you want. And…and I’ll be sure to get out of your life…”

Azul is silent for a moment, before he can’t hold back his chuckle any longer. He tries to contain himself once he sees the tears begin to pool in your eyes. You start to pull away, but he pulls you close with one arm, wiping away your tears with the other.

“Oh dear, you’re truly serious! You’re laying in my bed, in my arms, and you think you’re taking advantage of me? You thought I only wanted you for your resources and yet you feel sorry? I suppose your tender heart and naïveté are endearing, but it won’t do for you to be so vulnerable, my love. It’s a good thing I love you so much, any less and I might truly be tempted to take advantage of such a poor soul like yours~”

You look at him in confusion. “You mean it…but how can I trust you, Azul?”

His arms move to slip around your waist, pulling you in close to him. You can feel the heat of his smooth skin move against your body, the warmth of his breath on you face.

“How indeed, my love? I suppose I’ll have to show you, then. Actions speak louder than words, after all.”

With that, Azul lifts himself off the bed, drawing you under him and capturing your lips once again.

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

Note:

This is my first ever post, so please be kind! I've been working on this piece for a few days, and there will be more parts to come, but it may take some time to complete. The story will also include text messages between you and your friends (SMAU). I'll do my best to maintain a good length for the story, but there may be some shorter parts. Also, I'm new to this, so there may be a few errors, but I hope you enjoy the story! :)

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: Whenever I can, no set date.

WC: 2756

Description: Characters are aged up. Y/N's stuck in a toxic relationship with her controlling boyfriend, feeling lost and doubting herself. Now, she's facing a crucial choice: stay put or find the courage to break free and reclaim her independence. Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings: [18+] This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Your friends have been telling you to leave your boyfriend for months now. They warned you about him, about his manipulative, controlling, and narcissistic nature, which contributes to his toxicity. They keep pointing out his flaws – how he always wants. No. NEEDS to tag along wherever you go, how he tries to control what you wear and who you hang out with. And don't even get started on the name-calling and arguments that seem to happen like every single day. But despite all their warnings, you find yourself wondering if maybe it's just his way of showing he cares… it was all out of love wasn’t it? If he didn’t care about you he wouldn’t act the way he does… 

Right…?

You're constantly caught in a loophole of conflicting feelings. On one hand, you can't help but notice the red flags they've been waving in your face. But on the other hand, there's a part of you that wants to believe there's genuine love behind his actions. He loves you?

Right…?

Still, you can't help but question: does all this make him a "bad boyfriend"? Sure, he's not physically abusive, but his mood swings leave you feeling like you're walking on eggshells. As you grapple with these thoughts, you can't help but wonder where to draw the line between love and toxicity.

"Y/N!"

You snapped back to reality as Maki's voice cut through your thoughts, finding yourself now parked in front of Yuta's house, a 15-minute drive from your own.

"Are you okay? You've been lost in thought the entire car ride here," Maki asked, a mix of concern and confusion evident in her tone.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just thinking about the exams coming up," you replied with a forced smile, though it didn't seem to convince her entirely. Luckily for you, she didn't question further. 

You made sure to silence your phone before heading out, knowing the argument that would likely occur with your boyfriend over your plans with friends. It wasn't news to you that he disapproved of your friendship with Yuta and Inukami, despite having plenty of female friends himself. Hypocritical isn't it. But today, you decided to take a stand. You were tired of the never-ending arguments and his controlling behaviour. It felt like you couldn't say or do anything without setting him off, and honestly, you were fed up with it.

You felt it was the right decision, even if it meant facing another argument later. You were determined to spend the day enjoying yourself with your friends, and if that meant upsetting him, then you were willing to deal with the consequences. After all, arguments had become a daily occurrence between you two, so what harm would one more do?

You didn’t quite know where this newfound confidence had come from. Normally, the thought of upsetting him would send shivers down your spine, making you hesitant to go against his wishes. But today was different. You were reaching a breaking point, tired of his behaviour and the constant strain it put on you. Mentally, you were drained. Ever since getting together with him, you'd been affected with a sense of unhappiness, a feeling that even your friends had picked up on. All they wanted was to see you happy again, but it felt like an impossible challenge to break free from his control and spend time with them. He dictated every aspect of your life, and you were beginning to realize just how suffocating it had become.

He felt like a never-ending storm cloud, hovering over you wherever you went, casting a shadow of negativity that left you feeling drained and miserable. It was as if his presence drained your strength, both physically and mentally, until you were left feeling defeated. You knew deep down that the only way to find a “cure” was to get rid of him, but it was far from simple. If it were that easy, you would've done it long ago, at the first signs of trouble.

Believe it or not, he wasn't always like this. That's why you were drawn to him in the first place. But as time passed, things only seemed to deteriorate. A part of you held onto hope that he would revert to the person he once was—caring, supportive, and loving. Yet, as months turned into nearly a year, nothing changed. If anything, it only seemed to worsen. 

Why? Why did he change? Was it something you did? Was it your fault? Did you somehow fall short? He always made you question your self worth. He made you believe that this was what you deserved—that you deserved to be hurt, to be broken. He convinced you that you weren't worthy of more.

You and Maki entered Yuta's house, using the spare key you both had. It was a common practice among your close group of friends; you all had keys to each other's homes. After all, you practically grew up together, so there was nothing unusual about dropping by unannounced.

Inumaki and Yuta greeted you warmly as you entered the living room, where they were too focused on a video game. As the hours passed, laughter filled the room, followed by playful teasing and occasional cussing at each other due to the intense gaming moments. You all talked about life, ate your favourite meals, and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of happiness return. It was as if you were reconnecting with the positive, joyful version of yourself that had been buried beneath the weight of recent struggles.

"I'll be right back! Just need to use the bathroom," you announce before grabbing your phone and heading off.

"Do you want us to pause the movie?" Yuta offers, showing his consideration for your absence.

"No, it's okay! Keep watching, I'll be quick," you assure them with a laugh as you slip away.

Time flew by, and before you knew it, it was almost 9pm. Your peaceful day took an abrupt turn when you saw multiple missed phone calls from no other, your loser of a boyfriend. 

**5 MISSED PHONE CALLS AND MESSAGES BETWEEN Y/N & BF**

Luckily, Maki, Inukami, and Yuta were too engaged in the movie to notice your lengthened absence. However, tears welled up in your eyes as you read the messages, feeling the weight of self-doubt creeping in once again.

"I’m just a bitch. That’s all I am. I'm nobody," you muttered to yourself, your eyes red as you struggled to contain your emotions. You couldn't afford to show weakness in front of your friends. This shouldn't affect you, you reminded yourself. You knew this was coming, so why did it hurt so much?

Knock Knock

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted your thoughts. "Hey, Y/N. You okay in there?" Maki's concerned voice broke through your internal chaos.

Fuck.

Of course, Maki sensed something was wrong. She had picked up on it the moment she picked you up. She wasn't one to pry, though. She respected your privacy, and if you didn't bring up the issues first, she wouldn't force them out of you. That's why you cherished her friendship so much—she was the best friend anyone could ask for.

You wanted to tell her, you really did, but you knew all too well what her response would be, and frankly, you didn't want to hear it—not today. All you wanted was to be with your friends, to immerse yourself in their company and forget about your troubles, if only for a little while. You didn't want them worrying about you or your mental state. So you took a deep breath and plastered on a smile, hiding all the negativity like you always did.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just on the phone with my mom," you said, forcing a smile as you opened the bathroom door, only to be met with Maki's skeptical expression. Her raised eyebrow spoke volumes, questioning your excuse without saying a word. But she didn't press further. Instead, she offered a soft smile and placed a comforting hand on your back.

"You're missing the movie. We decided to pause it when you didn't return after five minutes. Come on, let's go," she said gently, leading you back to the living room.

You both made your way downstairs and settled back onto the couch, resuming the movie with the others. After a few minutes, Yuta stood up from his spot and took a seat beside you, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear so only you could hear him.

"Hey, I know you haven't been feeling your best lately, and I understand why... But I want you to know that you can always talk to me. To us. We're here for you, no matter what." he whispered, his words causing your heart to stop for a moment. A soft smile spread across your lips as he leaned back, his eyes meeting yours with warmth.

"Thank you," you replied softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as the movie continued. Resting on each other like this was a familiar gesture among your group—it was something you all did since childhood, a sign of trust and comfort. So when you leaned on Yuta's shoulder, it wasn't a romantic gesture—it was more like seeking comfort from an older brother figure. Your friends have always been there for you, caring and supportive, much like older siblings would be.

Finally the movie finished, with the time now showing 11:16pm—it’s very late, thank god you guys had no classes scheduled for the next two days.

"It's getting late, Y/N. Are you ready to head back?" Maki asked, her expression soft with concern.

Before you could answer, Inukami jumped in with a hopeful tone, asking if you guys could stay a bit longer. You could tell he was really loving the reunion, bringing back memories of all the fun times your group had shared in the past… just like before you got into a relationship. 

"Yeah, come on, Maki and Y/N! We haven't had this much fun in a while. It feels good for the group to get back together again," Yuta chimed in, his gaze shifting between Maki and you. The collective attention turned to you, though you knew it wasn't intentional—they subconsciously understood that the decision rested with you, or rather, with your boyfriend's expectations.

Even though it was late, the idea of going home to an empty house, knowing your boyfriend would be out, doing who knows what, filled you with dread. You knew it would only trigger more overthinking and anxiety so with a reassuring smile, you decided against it. Tonight, you didn't feel like going home, and that was perfectly okay.

"Fuck it," you thought, smiling back at them. 

"Why don't we have a sleepover?" You ask, breaking the silence. Their eyes widen in shock, the suggestion catches everyone off guard. It's been a while since the last sleepover, back before you started dating your controlling boyfriend. They've tried to organize some since then, but you always declined, due to your boyfriend's disapproval.

Of course. Typical.

Their initial shock quickly turns into smiles and nods as they exchange glances before turning back to you.

"Let's do it!" Maki says with excitement.

All of them cheered in excitement, and the lively conversation continued throughout the night until exhaustion finally led to all of you drifting off to sleep on Yuta's spacious and comfortable couch. Despite the cozy setup, you found it hard to sleep as your mind continued to race, clouded by thoughts of him once again. Unable to find peace, you quietly slipped outside to the backyard, just to get some air.

Yuta awoke shortly afterward, noticing your absence. He got up from the couch, careful not to disturb Maki and Inumaki and began searching the house, half expecting to find you sleeping in his room. But you weren't there. He started to slightly panic as he considered the possibility of you leaving without informing anyone. How did you get home? Was something wrong? Why would you leave without saying anything?

As his mind rushed with worry, Yuta made his way to the backyard door and spotted you sitting on the stairs. Leaning against the door frame for a moment, he gathered his thoughts before joining you outside, silently taking a seat beside you.

"Hey," Yuta says as he settles beside you.

You jump at the sudden sound, caught off guard by his unexpected presence. "Omg, Yuta," you playfully shove his shoulder, "don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry," he chuckles softly, "didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing out here this late?" he questions.

"Couldn't fall asleep so I decided to get some air."

"Something on your mind?" He asks with concern.

I smile at him. "No."

"Come on, Y/N. I've known you for years; you think I can't tell when something's on your mind..."

You both sit there in silence for a moment before he speaks up again.

"Is it—"

"Mhm. But I don't want to talk about him. I'm here with you guys today, and that's what's important. Not him," you state, trying to change the conversation away from your boyfriend.

Yuta gives you a reassuring smile and nods, but then an awkward silence settles between you. It's unusual; conversations with your friends usually flow effortlessly, so why does it feel so difficult now?

After a moment, you decide to break the silence.

"Yuta..." you begin hesitantly.

He meets your gaze with a soft look. "Yeah?"

"I'm thinking about breaking up with him, you know," you confess.

Yuta's eyes widened in shock, a spark of excitement shining in him. As your best friend, he genuinely cares about your well-being and wants what's best for you. They all do, and they know that leaving your boyfriend will bring out the best in you, bring back the real you.

"Really?! How come... I mean, I already know why, but I'm just curious after all the times we've mentioned it to you, you never really pa—"

"Yuta," you interject, giggling at his enthusiasm.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, and being here with you guys today reminded me of the times we used to have together before him and I got together. And honestly... I haven't felt happier and more relaxed in a long time until now. It's like when I'm with you guys, I'm constantly smiling, laughing, talking, and I never feel judged. But with him, I feel so... miserable. I don't even remember the last time he and I actually talked and had a laugh together. It's always arguments, and he's the one who always starts them over nothing."

Yuta places a comforting hand on your shoulder and gently wipes away the tears on your face. You hadn't realized you were crying. You tried your hardest not to cry for months, but while telling Yuta how you felt, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Shhh... it's okay, Y/N. I'm glad you feel like yourself when you're with us. You deserve so much better than that jerk," he reassures you, his words bringing a sense of comfort.

He never fails to make you laugh.

"Thanks, Yuta," you say gratefully.

"Hey, what are you guys doing outside?" Maki and Inumaki mumble sleepily as they stand at the door.

Yuta grins mischievously and glances over at them. "What's with that ugly grin?" Maki jokes, prompting laughter from everyone.

"MAKI!" you all shout in unison, teasing her.

Yuta can't contain his excitement any longer. "Y/N is planning on breaking up with her boyfriend!" he blurts out.

If Maki and Inumaki thought they were awake before, they're definitely wide awake now. They exchange shocked glances between you and Yuta, repeating the gesture several times. You can't help but smile; despite the gravity of the situation, you feel a sense of pride. Proud that you've finally gained the courage to do something you've been wanting to do for months.

"You're not messing with us, right? Because I swear to god Y/N, if I find out yo—" Maki begins, her voice tinged with concern.

You cut her off before she can finish her sentence. "I swear I'm not messing with you guys. I'm going to do it tomorrow night."

Yipeee!! Go Y/N!!! finally we've all been waiting for this moment.

im currently working on the next part so please be patient!

Also, thank you so much for reading!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

hey y'all, i pretty much know that i'm the asshole big time- but i'm not sure what to do about it. i know i need to shift my perspective, especially because i'm not sure what to do going forward... or how to meaningfully apologize, so I think i need some outside judgement.

AITA for wanting to possibly return to speaking terms with someone i cheated with?

about 1.5 years ago one of my best friends (i'll call him R, we're all 20 now) confessed to me while I had a bf- R said he knew i wasn't into him but asked me to kiss him once. i felt really bad and didn't feel anything for him, so i said yes and we briefly kissed. I didn't think it was going to be a big deal until I told my boyfriend right afterwards and he got really upset in a way i now see i was really understandable. i've come to see the situation as cheating, but I think fundamentally we had a different view of it at first. my bf asked me to not be alone with him anymore or talk to him outside of groupchats (i was in a friend group of 3 people, R me and another guy). I tried really hard to follow through on this but in reality- i just didn't want to cut off one of my best friends- there were times I went against my boyfriend's wishes and slowly I let up and saw him/talked alone more. I would tell my boyfriend about it and he would be hurt by it and I would feel horrible, but I didn't put up a hard boundary. I hated myself for it, but I didn't feel like R was actually a problem, rather that the problem was my lack of respect for my bf. A month or two later, all of us moved away to different colleges. After two months of long distance and continuing to talk to R on the phone sometimes, my boyfriend left me citing that as one of the reasons.

I realized I should have valued my bf more and I stopped talking to R (basically ghosted him), but he contacted me on another platform and asked if I was okay and I realized that he was a true friend in a lot of ways. When we hung out on winter break at home, we were chilling and he kind of made a joke asking me to sleep with him. I said no very loudly because I'm not into him like that and I was still hung up on my bf. Meanwhile, after 2 months of no contact, me and my bf had started to talk again very tentatively (i had tried really hard to instigate it which, sometimes i feel bad about not leaving him in his peace- but I was having a really hard time accepting the breakup). I realized there was something I really needed to do to show him I was serious and I sent R a text saying we couldn't be friends anymore citing some lame reasons and the whole 'sleep together' thing.

After that, R didn't contact me and I felt like it was sad, but kind of a blessing because I got to focus on building trust between my bf and I and we eventually got back together.

Anyways, in the past year, the relationship has been steadily getting more comfortable and I hadn't had any contact with R or cheated since (I kind of believe once a cheater always a cheater, so this is an accomplishment. I really don't want to hurt my bf like that again.)

Okay here's the sucky part though (as if the rest wasn't already sucky of me) i was posting tiktoks for the first time this week and, little did i know, the algorithm was showing them to people who had my number. I got a call from an unknown number and a text that said "can we talk." I realized from the chat history it was R, whose number i deleted. I didn't answer, but a part of me really wanted to.

I missed him and I felt bad for leaving the friendship the way it was, I was also really curious as to why he was contacting me now?? But I knew I needed to tell my bf before I did anything. He said he would feel more comfortable if I didn't respond and I kind of agreed- but I said I was going to think about it and that I would tell him explicitly before I did anything.

Then the next day I got another call from a random number with my hometown area code- I thought there was a possibility it was R and decided to just act in the moment and let fate decide- I answered and it was him. It was kind of scary, but also exciting and didn't feel wrong in my body. He was weirdly casual just saying hi and that he saw my tiktoks and missed me, we ended up talking like old friends- like the time that had passed had healed some of that old stuff. He told me i was the best friend he ever had, and I remembered all kind of good things about our friendship. I also was able to apologize for ghosting him- if not super well. I knew while we were talking that my bf was not going to be comfortable with this and that I was unsure about what to do going forward and I think R kind of knew that was the case too, so it was also very awkward. when we hung up, it was clear I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to be his friend again.

When I told my bf as soon as i got off the phone, he was understandably very upset, even more so when I said I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep talking to R in the future. I feel really bad for hurting him, I was really mainly thinking about my own feelings. Now he and I are trying to resolve things, but I'm ashamed to say I don't know how I can make it better. I've told him that, even though it's not necessarily what I want, I'm willing to block R again, but I don't think it feels satisfying to either of us. my bf and I have been dating for 4 years now (with that break at 3 yrs) and he means so much to me, I don't want to bring us back to a place of distrust, but part of me feels like this was kind of pent up while I had R blocked. i've never ended a friendship with anyone before or blocked someone, so it all feels really weird to me, but I can imagine that my bf must feel really betrayed by my continued unsureness.

also R and my bf used to be friends for like 5 yrs- then R and I were close for 1 yr. my bf has said he felt left out by that and that he felt like R was a jerk to him while they were friends, so that's an element of it as well.

if you've read this far, thanks so much- advice? AITA? I've spent so much time feeling like scum for the way I handled the situation and while I have to love myself through it- I don't want to keep mishandling it- was answering the call all that bad, do I need to totally forget about talking to R?

What are these acronyms?

[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You - (Penelope/Colin) Part 1

Rating: R

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 scene released yesterday.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn't giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Part 1

Penelope stared out at the pond, her last conversation with Colin still running through her mind. I miss you. Few months ago his words would have sparked incredible joy in her but hearing his smug confession last night had elicited nothing but rage. Even now an explosive anger threatened to burn her from the inside out - but she reminded herself to stay composed. Losing her calm over Colin Bridgerton was simply not worth it, not when she had far more important things to worry about.

“Penelope. How are you?”

Hearing Lady Violet’s voice from behind, she turned around to greet the older woman. Except she wasn’t alone. Of course not. Behind her stood most of her family, Colin and Eloise on one side, Gregory and Hyacinth on the other. Penelope quickly shifted her gaze back to Lady Violet. “I’m quite well. How are you?”

“You haven’t paid us a visit in a long time.”

Penelope sensed the scorn vibrating off of Eloise in waves, but she ignored her former friend. Even though her soul ached at the loss of their friendship, a part of her had already grown resigned to their new reality. “I’m afraid country life has kept me busy all these months.”

“Well, you’re back now. I hope to see you at the house more often.”

There was no mention of the falling out with Eloise, nor did Penelope expect there to be. Especially with Eloise pretending she no longer existed. Her eyes roamed over to her friend, only to be ignored. Inevitably her gaze slid over to Colin, and she suddenly found herself the recipient of his intent focus. Somber blue eyes penetrating her through to her very core, making her rattled and anxious and breaking down the very calm façade she worked so hard to build.  

Throughout their entire friendship he’d always been sweet and funny, filling her dull world with hope and color, but the night of her mother’s ball she’d seen the kind of cruelty he was capable of. It was a side of him that she never wished to see again. And feeling his piercing gaze right into her soul, in a way he’d never looked at her before, reminded her of how much of a stranger he really was. “Forgive me, Lady Violet, but I must take my leave. Mama shall be waiting for me.”

She quickly walked past the group, breathing a sigh of relief at no longer being under Colin’s scrutiny. Her relief, however, lasted only a few seconds. Because almost immediately Colin was striding alongside her.

“Pen, we need to speak.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then I’ll do the talking.”

“And I’m not interested in listening.”

“Too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She cursed his long legs, because while she struggled to keep up the fast pace he seemed to glide along the path without much effort. Short of running away from him, which would surely cause a scandal amongst the crowd promenading, she had no choice but to keep walking.

“I’m sorry. Truly.” His voice was soft, velvety like butter, like he’d practiced the words many, many times in preparation for the performance of a lifetime. “My words that night-”

“Do you know that I read your letters over the summer? Despite my anger, I still read them.”

An unexpected rawness laced his voice. “Why?”

“Because I needed to know. Would I recognize that insincerity in your words now that I knew the truth about your disdain towards me. And do you know what I discovered?”

She finally turned to look at him, and just for a moment the world stopped. Like it always did. His eyes were bluer than the sea itself, a symphony of agony and need, beckoning her towards him. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe, her heart caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

“Tell me.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a plea. It was a demand. As if he was entitled to her thoughts, her heart. Her very soul.  Well, damn him. Damn him for playing her for a fool. And damn herself for ever loving him. “You are an extraordinarily talented writer, Mr. Bridgerton. So good in fact that I woulld never have guessed your true thoughts if I didn’t hear you utter them myself.”

“That’s not fair. It was one night, Pen! One night! When I was drunk out of my mind and said something foolish. Are you really willing to give up on me after years of friendship because of something so small?”

“Yes.” Her response was quick and resolute, surprising even herself.

Stunned, Colin stared back at her. “Yes?” The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

The change in him was sudden and abrupt, taking her by surprise when he moved swiftly to block her path.

The blues of his eyes were so dark they bordered on brown, a storm brewing in them. Staring back at her was a man she didn’t recognize, different from the boy she grew up with,and the man who humiliated her without a thought. This was a stranger in front of her, anger etched on his face, jaw clenched with tension.

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

She didn’t think he could hurt her more, but he managed to do it nonetheless. “I never expected you to court me, Colin. You don’t love me. I’m quite aware of that. But you could have told them there was nothing between us. You could’ve even said I meant nothing to you. Instead you mocked me, derided me so you could look good in front of your peers, and that makes you someone I never want to associate with.”

 “I made a mistake, Pen.”

“Miss Featherington,” she bit out through gritted teeth. “That is who I am to you from now on. Nothing more.”

“So that’s it? I make a mistake and you erase me from your life just like that?” He snapped his finger angrily. “Are you so fucking perfect that you’ve never wronged anyone?

They’d been standing still for far too long, their conversation growing more potent every second. All of a sudden she was acutely aware of glances in her direction, people’s eyes sliding over her and Colin, and she realized how dangerous this was. Risking her carefully crafted plans for a few heated moments with him was idiotic. “People are staring at us, Colin.”

“I don’t care.”

“Obviously.” She offered a small smile at the couple who walked past her, trying to appear amiable. “You may not be concerned about my reputation but I am. And I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my way.”

“I’m not willing to give up on our friendship like you.”

His snarky words drew her gaze back to him. “Walk away, Mr. Bridgerton. Let me be.”

“And if I don’t?”

The hint of menace sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “You would not be the gentleman you claim to be.”

“Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps everything you’ve accused me of is true.” He took a step closer, eyes shining brightly. “Maybe I am cunning and cruel. What then?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “What is it that you want from me?”

“Forgiveness.”

“Fine. You’re forgiven.”

“You’re lying.”

“And you’re being rude.”

Eyes locked, they regarded each other intently. She didn’t understand what he was doing, why he was behaving this way. Why his stare seemed to be all consuming, studying her, trailing down to her mouth when she licked her bottom lip before drifting back up again. He’d never behaved this way before, A complete stranger in every way. “If you ever valued me as a friend, you would do as I ask.”

“I could say the same. If you valued me, you wouldn’t cast me aside.”

“You can not force me to continue this.”

“Would that be such a hardship? To move past one mistake and leave it behind us?” Desperation brimmed from him, he swallowed audibly. “I may not wish to court you but you are important to me. You’re my dearest friend. I can not envision a life without you.”

She exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. “You must.”

His lips twisted into a cruel plea. “Why?”

“Because I am to be married, Colin!” Instantly she regretted her words, hating herself for letting him provoke her. Yes, it was the truth, a plan that had taken months to carefully develop and plot – and now she’d ruined it by announcing it too early, and to him of all people!

“What?” He faltered back, stunned by her words. “You’re engaged? To whom? Why-”

“All you need to know is that my future husband and I have already discussed the matter and he wishes for me to have nothing to do with you. So goodbye, Mr. Bridgerton, because this the last time you and I will speak alone.” She stormed away, before he could stop her.

To be continued...

A/N - Um, thoughts? Feedback is always appreciated. I'm liking the idea of Colin and Penelope going head to head over the destruction of their friendship :)