#I’m sure there’s people who think like this but

[74thcookie]

CondensedMilkAU

The condense milk is stuck in my head but I imagine this goes is mini arcs and we’re just in the BlueberryMilk Arc

This AU I’m pretty sure others already had a similar concept but this one primarily focuses on the Sage of Truth, juggling his duty as the Sage and a “mother” of two young cookies while also fighting with his burnt out from both his passion for the truth and his loneliness.

Nutshell of the Arcs:

Burnt Out

This is the beginning of SoTs crash out phase in where he left like he knows too much and is tired of answering others question. He almost fallen to the deserve for something more fun like deceit, he remember Truthless Recluse and what he became. He then tries to take a break from being a Sage and files for leave, his wise enough that rest is essential even if they’re immortal.

Escapism

He uses his “leave” to observe ordinary peoples life is like, he begins to envy their easy life. He then question himself if it really is easy, if their life really is easy as he proclaimed so he had an idea

Eyes of a liar

He disguises himself as a regular blueberry cookie with a simple back story. He struggled a lot being a regular citizen while pretending to be clueless but his charms manage to make the folks familiar with him easily. He is now one with the townsfolk and is nickname as the Mommy figure due to him accidentally lecturing some people with wisdom accidentally from time to time but they think it’s just “her” kind and caring nature hitting in and not him being smart

HonestFacade

During his time as a regular blueberry cookie he stumble upon a young black sapphire cookie who is working as a shoe shiner, he and the cookie bonded over the fact they love gathering information from clients and agree “all knowledge is good knowledge”. When the Sage warm up to the young cookie he then decided to adopt him and his sister. Though initially black sapphire rejects it and had a debate with the Sage, he lost that debate and the Sage was victorious. Black Sapphire didn’t really feel bad losing but relief he finally have some help with life and he can have some free time for once.

Blueberry Milk

When SoT sees the posters from his actual town of their concern as to where their Sage went, that’s where he realized his been gone for almost a year. He cant abandon this new life he made or his duty as Sage but he scuffs thinking he can balance both of this life with magic but his body seems to feel like it’s not ready to return… yet he has to.

He returns and people celebrate his return but that’s where black sapphire also connect the dots together about his mama. He knows for a fact his mama is hiding something and she is smarter than she let on. The young cookie is good at reading people and now that it makes sense these two are the same person, he now feels not betrayed but intrigued.

He also told Candy Apple cookie because shes a simp for the Sage and she goes nuts but agrees to remain quiet about knowing the truth for the Sages sake.

The events of the HonestFacade Arc made the Sage a bit open to new questions, having the value of time in his mind and unfortunately insecurities he didn’t realize he had like “Once the kids are all grown up or..crumble of old age. Who am I going to share my life with?”. His new thoughts of eternal loneliness begins to plague his usual routines.

And thats about it. I only made this to have an excuse to draw a tired SoT or soon to be wrecked or comfort SoT. Please don’t kill me

Also bonus:

[jaggedamethyst]

not in that way (part one)

bucky barnes x fwb!reader

content: steve rogers is your best friend, which means that inherently bucky should be yours too. somewhere along the way, it became more than that for you. for bucky, it's just tolerance. he likes you, but not like that. not in that way.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, protected sex (yeah wrap that up), rough, choking, fwb, mean bucky, mutual pining, not proofread

notes: thank you guys for the support on the snippet as well as for waiting for me as i got this done! i just finished finals so i plan on locking in on this one and circuit breaker bc i cannot stop thinking about them.

ps. i swear bucky and reader are friends, just had to hit the angst and give some background but there will be cute moments along with smut probably every chapter...I'm hoeing out.

series master list

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

“Steve?” You called out to him, steps pounding behind you as you hurriedly moved toward his pinged location. “Steve, oh my god.” Your voice trailed off, shock evident. 

People brushed by you and pushed toward Steve’s figure on the ground. You’d never seen him like this. Sure, Steve Rogers was a super soldier and the most physically strong man you knew—but this was different. Mentally, he seemed destroyed. 

He called your phone, short of breath and muttering for help. It immediately sent you into action. You were normal—the most civilian anyone could be. There was no other option but to call someone, plead with them to find and help your friend. He’d been washed up on the shore, lying in the dirt and clearly out of it. 

You watched him get worked on, staring into the distance. 

“What happened?” You kneeled next to him,  “Who did this?” 

Steve turned to you, eyes glossed over in disbelief. “Bucky.” He shook his head, “It was Bucky.” He kept repeating it to himself, attempting to convince his own mind that it was true. “It was him. It was Bucky. He was here.” 

“I don’t understand,” you grasped his shoulder. “I thought he was gone—you saw.” You gulped, searching his face for any hesitance. “You said he fell, that he-“

“It was him.” 

“Okay.” You nodded, “Okay, I believe you. He was here.” 

It was true. The man you’d heard so many stories about had returned. He wasn’t like the anecdotes Steve recalled; this Bucky was darker, more quiet, resigned. 

He was an observer. You often caught him staring at you, eyes lingering between your figure and Steve’s. Bucky would always stand, tucked into a corner. He didn’t feel deserving of the warmth Steve offered—the humanity that remained present in you. There were times, then, that you would offer a welcoming hand. A slight wave of motion offered him a seat, acknowledging that he did deserve to be there. He felt human with you. 

That’s what initially drew Bucky to you and inevitably why you became friends, too. There was a way that you loved everyone, insisted on not leaving them out and nourished their insides. 

The hurt came when he realized it would never be that way for him.

You could never love him, not a monster. Not when the shining emblem of a perfect man sat beside you every day. Steve had so much time with you—he was your best friend. Bucky couldn’t replace him, not if he tried. So he always kept you at arms length, hoping to be more than friends but settling for something less. 

The first time it happened, when Bucky had been so lucky to have a moment with you—he swore that he was dreaming. He never gave you a reason to like him, in fact, it was the opposite. He’d gone out of his way every day to push you further from him, make it known that he’d never be as good as Steve. 

He could tell you saw something different; he hated it. 

The three of you had tried small talk often, Steve facilitating some sort of discussion to break the ice. It almost always ended with you and Bucky exactly where you started, friends who were forced to be so because of a mutual one.

“Well, I’m headed out—you two should talk.”

“Steve, no-“ 

“Buck, you two are my favorite people in the world. I would love it if you gave this a chance.” Steve patted his friend’s shoulder, “For me. Please.” 

Bucky turned to look at Steve, a solid expression on his face. He didn’t speak, just gave him a small nod and let Steve step around him and out of your place. 

It was common that Steve would find solace in your home. It was far from the city, neatly tucked away in a residential area. There was a sense of normalcy and he was proud to introduce that to Bucky—he needed that, deserved it after everything. 

The room was silent, violently so. You sat across from Bucky—him lingering in your peripheral and you nestled softly into your couch. He didn’t move, standing still near a wall which offered him the sight of every possible window and exit. 

“Do you wanna sit?” 

You watched his body for any reaction, dissatisfied when there was none. It was awkward, him avoiding eye contact and you not sure of what else to say. 

You sighed, “I’ll be back.” You announced your departure, not that it mattered to him. 

You beelined to the bathroom, desperately needing to escape him. He was always like this, closed off and so obviously annoyed by your presence. Splashing your face with water did little to temper you and your body seemed to overheat at the thought of having to see him again. 

You didn’t let yourself think—couldn’t. You stepped out and kept your head down before looking toward Bucky’s signature spot on the wall. He wasn’t there. 

You tilted your head down, seeing Bucky now sitting on the couch, two cushions away from where you’d been prior. He watched you smile softly, moving to sit in your spot.

Bucky made a habit of keeping his hands in his lap. He would sit stoically at all times. It was the same now. 

He avoided eye contact but muttered, “Hi.” 

Your breath hitched, surprised he’d started conversation. Keeping your tone even so as not to overwhelm him, you replied, “Hi, Bucky.” 

The both of you nodded, letting the weight of your forced proximity surround you. As much as he tried, he couldn’t ignore you. The faint smell of your hair products, the way you tapped your own leg rhythmically, how nervous you were—he noticed it all. 

“Do you, um,” you swallowed. “Do you want something to drink, maybe?” 

It’d been over a year since Bucky showed up. You, of course, shared small talk with him in that time. He’d grown to know the story of you and Steve—how you met. It would suffice to say that Bucky grew to be an acquaintance of yours—a long lost friend of a friend…one that would never truly like you. Accepting that was hard; you wanted Bucky to be comfortable at the very least. If not like you, he would at bare minimum be able to sit down for once. 

So today was a win. 

Bucky didn’t reply to your question but instead asked his own, “How was Steve? Without me, I mean?” 

His voice was gruff, and you hadn’t expected that question, let alone more than a single syllable from him. 

“Well,” you readjusted to face Bucky, “He’s always the most positive guy in the room—which I’m sure you know.”

Bucky let a smirk slip, recounting the optimism his friend had at all times. 

“He’s better than me that way, than a lot of us.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. He’s just Steve, you know that.” 

He didn’t know that. Bucky was living in his body but observing from outside his own mind. He was witnessing his friend after so much time had escaped him. Everything he thought was true wasn’t anymore. 

He wanted to get to know you, offer you the same grace that was given to him. But he couldn’t. Before it even begun Bucky was overwhelmed. He pushed himself to be kinder, to do this for Steve. It was simply futile. 

He stood suddenly and looked down at you, “I should go.” 

“Okay,” you stood, nodding. “I guess I’ll be seeing you.” 

He hummed, rolling his shoulders back and tightening his posture again. He didn’t respond. 

“I’ll tell Steve you tried today,” you whispered to him. “I know he’ll appreciate it. I do.” 

The tension was palpable. Your eyes stayed locked on each other until you heard a sound and looked down. The mechanical whirring of his metal arm was clear, only slightly suppressed by the gloves he always wore. He watched you noticing his hand twitch as if he wanted to move it. There was a restraint there, like he was pushing down something that was second nature. As if he meant to do something that he’d always done. 

You swallowed hard enough to hear it in your ears. Looking at Bucky, you arched your brow in a subtle defiance—daring him to do what he intended. You wanted to know him and his habits, to understand even a modicum of what was in his brain. 

Without thinking a second more, he let his left arm lift a bit. He reached toward your face but paused at you flinching, leaning away from him. 

Just barely audible, you spoke, “Sorry.” 

Bucky blinked and furrowed his brows, unable to stop himself. He let his fingers wrap around your face, a single hand pressing just under your chin and at the top of your throat. Slightly wide eyed, you watched him watching you. Most of his hand rested on your cheek, his thumb pressing into the other side of your face. 

Despite no longer being the Winter Soldier, his habits lingered. When in that state he remembered being like this so vividly—a hand around someone’s throat and crushing the life out of them. He hissed at the thought, not at all intending for that with you. He craned your head, though, observing the quizzical look on your face. 

It didn’t make sense to him, the need to maintain this routine. But he did. Beyond the haze of what was once his signature way of taking life—he saw a new one. Bucky could envision his future so clearly, yet he couldn’t let himself have it. 

He went to drop his hand but stopped at the feeling of yours on his wrist. It was inexplicable. Glove or not, you craved the contact from him. 

The room stayed silent except for the slight creak of the floorboards beneath you. While Bucky stayed steady, you teetered on the balls of your feet—this moment feeling fleeting. 

He inched forward, watching your eyes fall closed. 

Your lips were right there, the ones he’d openly been ogling at for months. It was torture, but all he knew. He couldn't allow himself the satisfaction of the feeling. He wasn’t deserving. 

Instead, he latched onto your neck. Bucky kissed and nibbled there with an urgency you hadn’t expected—hell, you didn’t even think today would’ve progressed to this at all. 

The feeling of him on you was intoxicating, and it was so minuscule. His hands were all over you, and yours on him. Your breath came out ragged, “We shouldn’t.” 

“You’re right.” He paused on your neck briefly, directly in your ear now. “We shouldn’t.” 

“We’re friends.” You nodded, letting your hands trail up his back and into his hair. 

“Are we?”

You weren’t sure. It was complicated. You couldn’t let yourself think about that now and neither could he. 

He pushed you down onto the couch and stood above you, allowing you to finally look him over. He was casually in jeans and a t-shirt, the rest of his body entirely covered. The only skin that showed besides his face was just below at his neck. Around it lied his dog tags that he was so adamant about wearing. The glint of them always caught your eye and alerted you of his presence. Even when he showed up silent, you’d see him and those damn tags. Just always out of your eyeline but in the room—that was who Bucky had always been. In his stoicism he was still consistently there.

Watching Bucky undo his pants already had you eager for him, too. There was always something there for you, an intrigue simply at the way he carried himself. You stayed seated, leaning back a bit in an attempt to slide down your sweatpants. Both of you watched the other discarding the bottom half of their clothes with little thought, tossing them aside. 

He leaned, then, ruffling into his dark jacket’s interior. 

“I got it,” he mumbled, ripping into the condom wrapper with his teeth. He slid the latex over himself just before pushing the jacket off his back. 

He kneeled into the couch, the angle awkward but enough that he was able to slide into you like he wanted. It was tight—rough. You expected the burn but still sucked in a breath at it, the lack of prep. Bucky didn’t mean to make it this way but just wanted it to be over—the insatiable need to pump in and out of you. Only you.

Slowly and deliberately he continued to kiss around your neck, collarbone, and ears. He snapped into you, purposely moving at a speed that allowed him to chase a high rather than savor the moment with you. He wanted to, truly…to acknowledge the way you looked up at him. It was his dream to let the sounds of you falling apart actually hit his ears and mean something—but he couldn’t. 

The couch creaked and rocked. You were now slightly bent into the back of the cushions, your chest moving up and down alongside Bucky’s. He pulled back, stabilizing himself behind you. The new angle allowed you to see his dog tags again, them hitting you with every movement into you. Without thinking you grabbed them, hooking them under one of your fingers. 

He finally allowed himself some relief, his voice dragging out the moans he’d himself been holding in. “Fuck...” 

You watched him intently, pulling him closer by the chain on his neck. He shifted his angle a bit at that and watched your jaw drop open. Your brows furrowed, whines choking out of you at the new sensation. It made you let go of his tags, grasping at the fabric of his shirt. This made him pound into you faster—realizing a tether of intimacy was gone. 

He was subconsciously glad for that, happy that he could pinpoint and force that sweet look in your eyes away. There was no longer an adoration in your gaze but simply one of pleasure. This was for the best. He could appreciate you from a distance despite the line of friendship being crossed so carelessly now. 

“Shit,” you groaned out suddenly. “Buck-“ 

He hushed you softly, quelling the harsh sound in your throat. It only spurred him on though, truly ruthless about this. He only slowed at the feeling of your fingers gliding over his face, pushing the stray piece of hair out of view. His pace stuttered, faltering as he really looked at you. 

A second later, he started in on you again. A clothed hand found its way into your shirt and pinched at your nipples. His grip was rough, kneading your chest. You were already so close; every additional sensation only pushing you further.

You met him suddenly, writhing into him and filling the living room with lewd slapping sounds. 

Bucky huffed breaths out at every push into you. You fought a squeak, pressing your own hand over your mouth. You gnawed at it as it allowed some relief from the burning inside of you. He was hitting that same spongey spot over and over. He was so good at picking up on the subtle changes in your face and body. 

Without warning he slipped out and nudged you, “Turn.” 

You did without questioning, a firm covered hand rubbing at the skin of your hips. Regardless of his gloves, you felt the difference in his hands—the slight shift of metal in one versus the pulse in the other. There was a contrast you enjoyed, a chill about his metal arm that grounded you. 

A knee pushed your legs open as he slid into you again, this time using you as leverage. Bucky pushed you down slowly, this side of your head finding the cushion. This angle was new, deeper. It wouldn’t be much longer at this point and he could tell. One hand slipped underneath you and up to your neck again, squeezing just enough for you to appreciate the loss of breath. In between gasps you nudged further into the couch, the sensation becoming too much for you. 

He couldn’t stop when you came, relishing the way your insides continued to pulse. It was as if he was meant to stay; his one true purpose was to be completely enveloped by you. When he finished a strained sound choked in his throat, one that you hadn’t expected. 

You were throbbing still, a cold feeling finally making you realize he pulled away. The feeling of him on you had gone away so quick. The sound of a different metal clanked—his belt buckle bouncing around as he slid his pants back on. 

“Should we…should I tell Steve about this?” 

Your question was sudden, but was filled with a weight that scared him. You didn’t want to be too forward—but it was only right. Steve was now caught in the middle of something complicated. Even if this was the first and only time…you weren’t sure you could keep this from him. 

Bucky thought differently. 

“Why would you wanna tell him?” 

“Because it’s-“ 

“Leave him out of this.”  

Bucky readjusted his clothes, smoothing them over as they’d been before. You watched him inch his way to the door—his back toward you. 

You ignored the pang in your chest, the confusion that now resonated in you. Pushing it away, you settled on changing the subject. “Steve wanted to do something tomorrow, you coming?” 

He didn’t turn as he grabbed the doorknob, merely craned his head to the side. You watched his profile for any sense of something but again he was so unreadable for you. 

“I’ll be there.” 

Then he left. 

taglist (click to request to be tagged)

@crookedtimetravelheart @wintercrows @rimunagenius @gorgeouslylethal @taylormobley @fan4astic @chimchoom @lilulo-12 @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hrlzy @foxinthestreet98 @lostinspace33 @royallykt @sleepysongbirdsings @pickuptruck01 @unclearblur @mrsalexstan @akiyhara @spaceconveyor @winchestert101

(for some of you it may not let me tag, check ur settings or if anyone has advice on how to fix it lmk!!)

[physalian]

When I was 14-ish, I was still new to fanfic as I generally didn’t spend a lot of time online. I could have, it just didn’t interest me. When I did start getting into fanfic, I remember hearing about how some fics would just be deleted from one of my friends who cited all the fics that I, at the time (and still to a degree now) thought were icky—the incest ones, ABO, dead doves—and I remember saying out loud that I didn’t see a problem with it.

It wasn’t coming from a “this is amoral” standpoint it was “unaware ace unable to comprehend why anyone sees this as entertainment” which probably doesn’t sound better?

But I remember my friend at the time—who I much later came to accept and understand was deeply abusive—giving me such a look and went off on a condescending rant scolding me about censorship and how all fics have a right to exist, etc.

Now that I’m older I appreciate the freedom of sites like Ao3, especially as it archives fic genres I can’t stand. It wasn’t anything to do with that friend, but every now and then I remember that exchange, not for what she said, but how she said it.

Anyway point being: A reminder for whenever you’re trying to convince the opposition to consider your viewpoint—don’t be a condescending twit about it. And OP isn’t, of course, but I know there’s contrarians all over the place on here who might see this.

That friend didn’t make me change my ways overnight, she didn’t educate me at all because I was so caught up on ‘this person thinks I’m a shallow pearl-clutching idiot’ and her nasty disposition, that I wanted to dig my heels in harder and just stop including her in my fandom interests. To this day, I’m very wary of sharing both what fandoms I’m in, and my thoughts on those fandoms with anyone, because I’m constantly bracing for ridicule, because of her.

A few months ago, I had a conservative-leaning friend caught up on the “but the p*dos!” argument and was all in on morality policing—they’re in a fandom with a very popular kid-adult ship that they find abhorrent. I don’t know this fandom and I don’t care.

They were pretty convincing to the point where I did give merit to the idea that dead doves with “problematic” content bring awareness to that content that readers might otherwise never know about, perpetuating the existence of these relationship tropes because more people read about them when they were previously blissfully unaware and then it spreads oh no think of the children.

And then I stopped and remembered that that is not my fucking problem.

Yeah, kids are going to stumble across shit they shouldn’t. Ao3 doesn’t have an age restriction and even if it did, you could just lie about your age and no one would know.

It’s their parents’ jobs to educate them about internet safety, and set up appropriate guardrails on their internet access, and to teach them the difference between “this is fiction” and “this is a healthy depiction of romance” not some random fanfic writer a continent away who has no idea this kid exists.

It’s no different than a kid walking into a library and picking up an adult romance novel and sitting in a corner to read it—if they can understand the prose, they can understand the sign that says ‘ADULT’. If it’s clearly in the adult fiction section, the library has done its job.

If you’re old enough to comprehend the contents of an explicit smut fic, you are old enough to comprehend the warnings that come before it.

Fanfic has always been “reader beware”. FFN didn’t have a tagging system and that wouldn’t have saved it, but it sure would have helped prepare readers for what they were walking into. Ao3 does. Beware the tags, readers. Appropriately tag your content, authors.

Don’t like? Don’t read.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Mechanic Eddie? The reader is Eddie’s girlfriend or wife and she’s stopping by the shop cause they have lunch plans. While she’s waiting for Eddie one of the other mechanics (who Eddie cannot stand) starts hitting on her thinking she’s a customer and Eddie gets mad… 👀 and reader and Eddie don’t make it to the lunch plan cause Eddie goes feral 🤭

She’s back at it again with amazing ideas!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, creampie, cockwarming, reader gets hit on by one of Eddie’s employees

The shop is practically empty when you enter it and everyone stops to wave at you, making sure to do so since they all seem to want to kiss up to the boss’s wife to get on Eddie’s good side. And as long as you’re happy, he is. You’re the most important thing in his life so he takes your opinion very seriously. When he opened the shop, he let you pick out a lot of the decorations. And he can’t help but smile proudly when customers compliment the 50’s themed decor that was all thanks to you.

You’re so in love with each other and everyone knows it. All of his employees love you and they’re all so respectful, treating you like they do him. It also helps that you bring them sandwiches pretty much every time you come in.

Rod is the new guy who always flirts with the women who come in, even when they bring along their romantic partners and he’s one more complaint away from being fired. Three strikes and he’s out. He’s got one more left and Eddie really hopes he doesn’t blow it.

But when you show up in your short dress, that promise Rod made to Eddie about being on his best behavior goes out the window. He watches you move through the shop, handing out sandwiches and making conversation with the other employees and he has a one track mind now, completely abandoning his current task as you approach. He thinks that maybe his flirting will finally work out.

He leans against the hood of the car he’s working on, making an attempt to make you notice him and you do, making a beeline for him with your basket of sandwiches. You figure he must be the new guy Eddie’s constantly complaining about and now you’re interested to see if he’s actually as bad as your husband says because he always tends to be a bit dramatic.

You put on your bright smile and hold the basket out to Rod. He happily takes a sandwich then steps forward and makes an attempt to put on a flirty smile. Yours matches his, but he doesn’t know that you’re just trying to be nice.

“I’m y/n,” you smile, putting your hand out for him to shake and he takes it despite all of the grease on his hands. You give it a shake then quickly pull away, already feeling uncomfortable being near the man.

“Rod,” he says with a nod, stepping even closer and now you’re fearing for your safety. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

“I think maybe I should reintroduce myself again,” you reply. I’m y/n, y/n Munson, Eddie’s wife.” You hold up the hand you’ve got your ring on and Rod’s mouth falls open at the giant rock on your ring finger. The thing is so huge that he’s sure he could see it from outer space.

He doesn’t seem to care that you’re married because he’s stepping even closer, causing you to step back again and again until your back hits someone’s chest. Their hand lands on your shoulder and just from the weight of it, you just know that it’s your husband.

“That’s the final straw. I’ve given you plenty of chances to change but I haven’t seen any growth. You have made so many people uncomfortable and now you’re hitting on y/n? Get out.”

Eddie is normally very relaxed so seeing him so riled up is so different. He’s always so sweet to you so this isn’t something you see very often. But when you do…god, you’re nothing but a puddle. The way he’s so angry and on your behalf makes you feel the need to go clean yourself up, just knowing that you’re making a mess in your panties.

“What-”

“Did I stutter? Apologize to my wife and the fuck out!” Eddie’s pointing towards the door and you’re no longer scared but rather turned on by how protective Eddie is of you. You know he was wanting an excuse to fire the guy anyway, but still. He’s always quick to jump to your defense and you feel so loved because of it. He’s your hero until death do you part.

“I’m sorry,” Rod apologizes then makes a scene of leaving the shop, throwing different tools around while screaming expletives and how he’s going to sue for wrongful termination.

You laugh it off, not actually scared anymore as Eddie protectively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. Once Rod is gone, his tired screeching as he pulls out of the parking lot, everyone goes back to work and you and Eddie go to his office, business as usual. It’s just a little blip.

Once safely inside his office, you sit on his desk, admiring the photo he has of the two of you on your wedding day, sharing a kiss. He has copies of that exact photo everywhere, even keeping one in his wallet to look at when he misses you, which is anytime he’s not around you.

You spread your legs and he steps between them. You grab hold of his shirt and pull him closer, pressing your lips to his as he cages you in, pressing his hands against the desk. You both know he needs to get back to work, but the position you’re in and the need is far too strong to ignore.

You watch him slowly sink to the floor, pulling your panties down as he does and once they’re off, he sticks them in his back pocket before discarding your shoes. He then grabs hold of your thighs and pulls you closer, draping your legs over his shoulders. Your dress is pushed up as he kisses up your legs, murmuring what you just know are sweet nothings into your skin.

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you head?” You ask and Eddie can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“But I’m not the one who looks fucking hot today so really, I’m just giving you what you rightfully deserve,” he replies, peppering your inner thigh with kisses before shoving his face into your cunt.

He’s being nothing but gentle, teasing as he goes in with his tongue, putting just a little pressure on your clit as you let out a moan, making sure to get his hair out of the way so it doesn’t interfere with his work. You move it this way and that as he gets more aggressive, biting down again and again. Both of you are grateful that he had all of that soundproof material installed for exactly this reason. Let’s just say that this isn’t the first time that you’ve been in the exact position in this exact setting…

He somehow gets you even closer, pushing his face further into your cunt as your heels dig into his back, moan after moan falling from your lips. The whole thing is making you dizzy just like usual, but this time, you’re on such a high that you feel you’re seeing stars. He’s much more aggressive, more hungry than normal, acting like he didn’t do this exact thing last night when the two of you couldn’t sleep.

You’re close, you can feel it. You’re pulling on his hair and that only encourages him, putting more into it than he ever has and as you reach your orgasm, nothing but his name falls from your lips in a loud, breathy moan which makes him hard as a rock.

He doesn’t even give you time to come down when he comes up for air. He immediately presses his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to his chair. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him.

Eddie grabs hold of your hips, helping your grind against him, making him even harder as you move together. He’s bucking his own hips against yours as he moans into your mouth at the feeling. He think he’s earned a fuck after making you come like he did.

You’re unbuttoning his pants as he rolls the chair back against the wall so it’s less likely to move with your activity. His pants are somehow down in an instant and you’re rolling the condom onto him before topping him, your lips moving to his neck as you begin to ride him. Soft and slow as you kiss his neck, his hands moving up your back and curling into the fabric.

You’re moving slower than usual, not in any rush even though you’re in Eddie’s place of work. That’s not even something that’s on your mind. You’re so caught up in him and the way he makes you feel that you can’t possibly stop now, not for anything.

He’s bucking his hips against yours the best he can, watching you hover over him, showering him with compliments about how he’s your hero and how you can always count on him to save the day. He’s eating it up, both your words and the way you’re moving, wanting to take your time.

It always seems like you both are in a rush just because of how horny you are for each other, but this is different, it’s much more intimate, more loving. He wants to stay like that forever. And even when Eddie is coming, he’s still thinking about how much he doesn’t want to leave.

So you two stay like that for a while, just holding each other until it’s time to go home, your lunch plans- the entire reason you had even shown up-completely forgotten just like always. Now you suppose you just have to make it up to him by skipping straight to dessert.

[antiquarianfics]

Look Away

You say Bucky has a staring problem. He says you shouldn’t share back.

a/n: i’m baaaack! i hope you enjoy it!

warnings: n/a

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

The room’s bustling with activity as you stand at the bar with your friend. When Sam had invited you to this party meant to honor him and his efforts as Captain America, you didn’t really know what to expect. You might have guessed there would be an open bar, but the rest of it? A posh parlor in The White House? Live music? Countless senators and generals around to clap Sam on the back and thank him for his work? Total surprise. However, despite the surprise of the luxurious and high profile venue, you found that you felt rather at ease amongst your couple of friends in attendance. No matter where you are, joking around with your boys has always stayed a safe and entertaining activity.

“He’s staring again,” Sam says with a smirk, lifting his glass in right hand to point at the brooding man sat across the room.

You grin, take a languid sip from your own drink, and shrug.

“Good,” you say lightly. “I like when he looks at me.”

Sam barks out a laugh at the comment, patting your shoulder with his free hand.

“Well, that’s good because he stares a lot,” Sam responds. “Not just at you, though,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Are you trying to make him watching my every move less romantic, Samuel?” You ask, placing your free hand on your chest and faking a gasp in mock offense.

“Not at all,” he says teasingly.

You look over your shoulder again to watch the object of your conversation, and, sure enough, his icy blue eyes are still trained on you. You might expect someone to turn away when caught staring, but the man across the room doesn’t. He never does. You turn back to Sam, shaking your head.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” you say. “Besides, I think Joaquin was wanting to talk to you.” You nod in the general direction that you think you’d seen Sam’s protégé.

Sam nods, places a chaste and friendly kiss on your forehead, and leaves to find his other friend. You smile fondly as you turn to cross the room towards your super soldier.

Bucky Barnes is sat in the corner of the room on what appears to be a rather uncomfortable couch. Comfortability aside, the furniture is rather luxurious and fits right in with the rest of the room. It’s Bucky who appears out of place, sitting in the corner, glaring at the people wandering about the party, clenching his fist uncomfortably, and taking angry sips from his whiskey glass.

You saunter over and sit down right next to him, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around you as you lean your head on his shoulder. The two of you, while not together, are best friends and more than comfortable with each other. You’re vaguely aware that you likely look like a couple to any passerby, but you can’t bring yourself to care. In fact, it makes you happy to think that anyone might think you and Bucky are together—it’s all you’ve wanted for an embarrassingly long time.

“Hi,” you say cheerfully.

“Hi,” he replied, voice gruff from disuse. You don’t think he’s spoken to anyone since you got here and wandered off to talk to your other friends.

“You look so angry over here,” you tease. “Somethin’ happen?”

He sighs, pinching your shoulder in response to the teasing. You let out a little squeak and halfheartedly swat at him, earning a chuckle out of the man.

“You look nice,” you tell him, moving the conversation away from his attitude. If you really think about it, you can’t blame him for being in a bad mood around all of the politicians and generals: they had tried to detain him, spouting all sorts of derogatory rhetoric towards him only a couple of years ago. You’d be in a bad mood yourself, if you were in his shoes. Besides, he really does look good in his fitted suit. “The black on black monochrome look is nice.”

Bucky smiles softly at the compliment. “Thanks, Doll,” he says. “You clean up nice yourself.” His eyes do a once over of your outfit: a deep blue satin gown, white evening gloves, and a tasteful diamond necklace and matching earrings. You’d fretted over your outfit, hair, and makeup for a week leading up to this party, and Bucky’s compliment—his attention—makes all the fretting feel worth it.

You blush, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, reveling in each other’s company as you people-watch. You fiddle with the wine glass in your hand, absentmindedly swirling the wine around, as you try your best to control your breathing (which had grown ever so slightly erratic from Bucky’s compliments). Beside you, Bucky downs the rest of his own drink before setting the glass on the end table beside him. You’re still looking forward, focusing on the party in front of you, when you feel his steely gaze on you again.

“You know,” you muse, tone teasing, “people say you’ve got a staring problem.”

“So I’ve been told,” he replied dryly, but you can practically hear the smirk he is sporting.

“Some people would call it rude.”

He shrugs, “Who? Sam?”

You giggle, “Maybe.”

You turn to study his face, arching an eyebrow. He’s still staring at you, eyes carefully tracking every detail of your face. He wears a content smile on his face as he watches you, letting his fingers gently tap against your shoulder. You smile softly at him as you feel your heartbeat pick up.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you breathe out.

“Like what, Doll?”

“Like… Hell, like you love me.”

His fingers still against your shoulder and he doesn’t seem to fight the grin spreading across his lips.

“No,” he says.

“No?”

“No. If you don’t want me looking at you like I love you, then just don’t look back.”

You feel your mouth drop open ever so slightly in surprise as you look back. You can’t bring yourself to look away. He’s teasing—you know he’s got to be teasing you—but maybe, just maybe, he might love you back. Maybe you don’t need to keep pretending you’re just friends. Maybe your love and adoration for the man beside you had never been unrequited like you thought. Maybe you’ve wasted so much time by not just talking about your feelings.

“What,” you start, nerves fraying your voice. “What do you mean by that, James?” You whisper the question, so incredibly anxious about what he is going to say.

He raises an eyebrow, still smirking, and says your name. “You’re smart. Figure it out. What do you think I mean by that?”

“I know what I think you mean,” you breathe. “I just…” You swallow anxiously. “I just don’t want to voice it and be wrong.”

Bucky fixes you with a sympathetic smile, “Sweetheart, I’ll bet money you’re not wrong.”

“How can you be sure? I might be way off base. I might think you mean to throw me off balance—to make me put my guard down—by playing ball with my feelings so that you can kill me and dump my body under a bridge.”

Bucky barks out a laugh. “Now why would I do all that?”

“I don’t know. I’m just saying you can’t be sure that I’m actually picking up what you’re putting down because I’m actually insane for thinking what I’m actually thinking.”

“I promise you I’m not going to kill you. I’d be heartbroken without you,” he says, voice dripping with sincerity. You think his breathing has picked up, too, but you’re unsure. After all, your mind is swirling trying to figure out if he’s trying to tell you that he genuinely loves you back.

“Bucky,” you say, a warning in your voice. “Please don’t play with my feelings like this.” You begin to chew on your lip in an attempt to ease your worried mind.

He says your name again in the most patient tone you’ve ever heard from him. You feel him wrap his arm more tightly around you, and his free hand comes to cup your face. With the gentlest touch, he swipes his thumb over your lip, pulling it out from between your teeth.

“You worry too much,” he breathes.

When did his face get so close to yours?

He kisses you. Sweetly, softly. He kisses you in the softest, most patient way in which someone kisses a person they’ve been dreaming of kissing for years. He kisses you like he’s trying to convince you that he wants you just as much as you want him. He kisses you like he’d die happy if it were the last thing he ever does.

His hand is gently grasping your face. His other arm is holding you safely against him. His lips move against yours. You freeze for a mere moment while you do what you can to let your brain catch up with what is happening. The moment passes you quickly, though, and you’re kissing him back. You move the wine glass to your left hand as you angle your body into him. You let your right hand reach up to his face, holding him close as you kiss him back fervently—desperate to never let this moment end.

When neither of you can breathe, you pull away, resting your foreheads against one another’s.

“Bucky,” you breathe, a smile pulling across your face.

“Hmm?” He hums. You shiver when you feel his breath against your face.

“I think you were saying you might love me back.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” he says.

You pull away to look him in the eyes, opening your mouth to question him. He sees the panic in your eyes, but he just smiles, pulling you back in for another kiss. When he pulls back again, he speaks.

“I was saying I absolutely love you back. No ‘might.’ I do. I love you. With everything in me, I love you.”

[russo-woso]

Ibiza || Alessia Russo x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You meet your soulmate when you least expect it, in the most unexpected place, Ibiza.

A/N I may have tweaked the request a bit :)

The crowd was something you didn’t expect.

You knew it was going to be busy, you had expected it, but what you didnt expect was just how crowded it was going to be.

You weren’t a people’s person, you weren’t supposed to be here.

But after your friends begged you to come, you had no choice but to come.

The crowd of Ushuaia was frantic, jumping up and down to the beat of the music.

Although you were trying to have a nice time, you weren’t succeeding.

So instead of dancing with random men like your friends were doing, you stood in the corner where it was a bit more quieter, praying that the night wouldn’t last too long.

You had turned around to put your drink on the floor but as you stood back up, you felt a drink splash all over you.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Here, let me help you.” A woman said, clearly the same woman who had crashed in to you.

You laughed it off, looking down at your outfit before looking at her.

Your eyes froze - she was gorgeous.

The woman attempted to wipe off the alcohol that she had planned to drink, but it was no use.

“Honestly don’t worry about it. I knew it would happen eventually. You don’t wear your best outfit when it’s somewhere like here.” You joked, sending her a smile as she blushed in embarrassment.

“Can I buy you a new drink or anything?” She asked

“You’re the one that doesn’t have a drink now. I should be offering you a drink.” You pointed out, her cheeks turning even more red.

“I was the one that walked into you. Please let me buy you a drink or something as an apology.”

“Tell me your name and then I’ll consider that drink.” You said

“Alessia.”

“Well… Alessia, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Do I get to know your name? If I’m buying you a drink then surely I get to know your name.” The woman, who you now know is called Alessia, said.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” She repeated with a smile. “What would you like to drink?”

“What drink did you spill on me? It smells amazing.”

She turned to the bartender, ordering whatever drink it was before turning back to you.

“So, Y/N, did you come with anyone tonight?”

“Some friends, it’s girls weekend away.” You responded, watching her face lighten.

“So no partner?”

“Nope.” You said, a smile resting on your face as you slowly understood what she was on about. “You?”

“Single.”

You smiled at her answer before looking away so she didn’t see.

“So, Alessia, where are you from?”

“London, you? Wait let me guess! I’m thinking somewhere in the midlands.”

“Wrong. I live in St Albans but I was born up north.” You told her

“I work near St Albans.”

“Do you? Where—” You began saying but was quickly cut off by a group of people crowding around you.

“Alessia, please can I have a picture?”

“Alessia, can you take a selfie with me?”

“Alessia, can you sign this for me?”

You looked at the group and back at Alessia.

Confusion filled your mind as you heard what the people were saying.

Was Alessia famous?

Your eyes were wide open as you looked at Alessia, but when you saw the panicked look on her face and how her breath quickened, a protective instinct kicked in.

The crowd got closer, practically pushing at shoving at the blonde.

“Hey! Don’t touch her! Go away, now!” You shouted, pushing the people away.

As soon as they had gone, you turned to Alessia with a shocked look.

Alessia looked so shaken up, tears threatening to spill as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You cooed, hesitantly rubbing her back.

You’d only known her for five minutes but seeing her cry broke your heart.

“I’m sorry that happened.” She apologised, her voice shaking as she said it.

“Don’t apologise.” You said, your voice soft as you continued to calm her down.

“I guess you want some answers then.” She told you

“Yeah, I’m a bit confused.”

“I’m a footballer. I play for Arsenal and England.”

“That’s amazing. You must be good. I mean arsenals a big team.”

“It is. Thank you for telling them to go away. I get bit anxious when there’s a lot of fans.” Alessia explained, you nodding, understanding what she was saying.

“Y/N! We’re getting a taxi back to the villa. We have to go.” Your friend shouted as she spotted you.

“Well… it was lovely to meet you Alessia.” You said, standing up from your chair.

“You too, Y/N.” She smiled

You began to walk away, but you heard her call your name.

“Y/N! Do you reckon I could get your number?”

“Thank god, I didn’t think you were gonna ask.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 8

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes (silverfox)

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Ugh, you have no idea how much I needed this,” you say as you plant the umbrella in the sand. 

“Isn’t that what you said about the old man?” Angelique scoffs and pinches your ass. 

You swat her away, “were you not just asking me to hook you up with one of his friends?” 

“Whatever. A girl’s gotta eat,” she giggles as she sits on the beach blanket and flips the lid of the cooler. “And drink.” 

She cracks open the ready-to-drink long island iced tea. You opt for a fruitier option as you settle onto the blanket across from her. You flip down your sun glasses and sigh. 

“What about the others? I know it’s an exclusive trip but I doubt it’s just us.” 

“They’re coming,” she catches a trickle along her chin with her tongue. “Now you’ve been baptized, maybe you might find a hottie around here. Let me tell you, young dick is something else.” 

“Oh and you would know,” you roll your eyes. “I mean, don’t all dicks feel the same once have so many.” 

“Shut up,” she throws sand at you. 

“Matching energy,” you hum and push in the tab of the can. 

“Did he fuck air into your head?” She chirps. “Jeez, you’re a fucking bitch now, aren’t you?” 

You just laugh at her. She’s salty over everything. She never liked not being the better of you two. You don’t think it’s really all that different than before, she just has less to tease you about. 

“Angel,” Colin’s voice ripples over the beach. Angelique sits up and squeals. You didn’t know she invited him. “Hey, baby, you look good.” 

She jumps up, leaving her can planted in the sand, and skips over to him. She sends more sand your way. You shield yourself as his entourage traipses up behind him. 

“So do you,” she pets his hairy chest as she stands on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Took you long enough.” 

“Had to get the party favours,” he gestures behind to the keg carried between two of his bros and the bluetooth speaker better suited to a night club. “Huh, is that who I think it is?” He glances over at you. 

“Colin,” you greet sardonically as you lean back on one arm. His eyes drift down your body. You cross your legs subtly. He’s never done that before. 

“That a new suit? Looks good on you.” 

You narrow your eyes behind the tinted lenses, “sure is.” 

“Yeah, her tits never stop. She snapped the last top like it was tooth floss,” Angelique snickers and shimmies her pert chest at him. 

“Hey, Ang,” Harley calls as she unfolds her beach towel, “who’d you fuck to get this beach house?” 

“Oh, shut up, slut,” Angelique snakes around Colin and punches Harley’s arm. The two of them could be twins; tall, slender, high tits, even the same pedicure. 

You bend your legs and sit up straight as company files in. You know them all. The typical crowd. Colin, Ryan, Trent, and Sterling, who prefers Steez. Either way, he sounds like a douche. Then Harley, her sister, Hazel, Tracy, and Kissie. 

You put aside your drink and distract yourself with the bottle sunscreen. You should put it on before the sun’s too high and you’re too tipsy. The voices garble around you as you rub the lotion into your legs. 

As you reach for the bottle, it’s scooped out of your grasp. You look up at Colin. 

“Can I get your back, kitten?” He winks. You furrow your brow and glance at Angelique. She’s groping Hazel’s tits. They look bigger, not that you took measurements. 

“Fine,” you turn and let him smear the lotion on your back. You can’t reach and trying will only have you pushing out your already oversized chest.  

His hands run up and down your back. Tendrils spread over you and you hold back a shudder. Calm down, girl. You’re not that thirsty. 

His hands slip around and suddenly scoop up your tits. You smack him and yelp as you spin away. 

“The fuck, guy?” You sneer at him. 

“I was checking if they’re real. Hazel’s aren’t.” He chuckles. 

You grimace, “Colin, you’re such a perv.” 

“Never said I wasn’t.” He stands and snaps the elastic on his trunks. “Finish that drink and I’ll be back.” 

You curl your lip and grab the can. You flip him the finger and search for your bag. You pull out your phone. Low bars. You shove it away and stare out at the water. 

“...some old guy. Grey hair and everything...” Angelique’s voice wafts over. 

“Oh,” Tracy struts up, “I heard you’re a slut now.” 

You look at her and take a drink. You shrug. “I have a lot to catch up with around you guys.” 

She giggles and sits on the end of the beach blanket, “tell us everything.” 

You look at Angelique and she smirks. She’s such a bitch. 

“It was just... you know. Whatever,” you shrug. 

Hazel and Harley sit beside Tracy and Kissie hovers behind them. 

“How old?” Harley asks. 

“I don’t know--” 

“Like fifty,” Angelique says. 

“He doesn’t look that old,” you counter. “Or fuck like it. It was like hours. I’m still tired.” 

“Hours? Sure.” Trent scoffs. “Old guy blew and rolled over to get his five o’clock nap.” 

“Fuck off,” you wave him off. Colin peers over as he turns his hat backwards. You sigh. “Here.” 

You take out your phone and search for the picture that was your background until that morning. The one of you and Bucky. You show the girls. 

“Shit, he’s fucking hot!” 

“And jacked, look, you can see his chest--” 

“Guess he worked out in prison,” you joke. 

The girls go quiet. Kissie speaks first, “prison?” 

You frown, “I don’t know. He’s got tattoos. He mentioned something. I mean who hasn’t done a night in jail?” 

“You,” Angelique accuses. 

“Drunk tank isn’t prison,” Ryan snorts. 

You shake your head, “well, he’s not in there now. And it was one night. Who the fuck cares?” 

“I didn’t know men his age came in that flavour,” Harley wiggles on her knees. 

“What are we? Chopped liver?” Colin snipes. 

“One pump chump,” Harley retorts. 

“Like you would fucking know,” he turns away. 

The girls laugh. It’s a bit ridiculous now it’s done and over with. It’s not that big of a deal. Fun, sure. Just the thought makes you want to moan but it’s not life-altering. Nope, you’re over it now. Now you can focus on more important things. 

Like getting fucking hammered and going swimming. You don’t want to think about work or your neighbour or your rent. You just want to have fun. 

👙

The sun adds to the effect of the vodka. There’s that haze around the edges of the vision, that looseness in your body. You feel good. Lighter. 

You run alongside Hazel into the tides and she squeals as the waves crash over you. You plunge under as you feel the top of your tankini slipping. You pop up over the surface and catch your chest as the straps hang down your arms. 

You giggle as you search for Hazel. She’s adjusting her bikini as she wades around. She grins at you. The other girls come crashing through. 

A shadow lands next to you. You look over as the frisbee floats on the water. You pull up the straps of your suit and fix the cups. Colin chuckles as he swipes up the disc and flings it. Trent hollers as it flies errantly through the air. 

“Hey, need some help with that,” he tugs on the straps and your chest bounces. 

You smack his stomach, “god, you’re the fucking worst.” 

“How long we’ve been dancing around each other, huh?” He plays with one strap and you nudge him away. 

“Colin, don’t start with me, alright? I’m not interested and until two hours ago, neither were you.” 

“What? I'm not ancient enough for you? How would you know if you try something... fresher?” 

“I know, okay?” You back up. “I didn’t come here for that. I’m on vacation.” 

“What else are you supposed to do on vacation?” He asks as he catches your arm. He pulls you closer. “We could find somewhere in the trees...” 

“Ew, okay, stop,” you push on his chest. 

He bends suddenly and picks you up. He plunges under with you and the water floods your throat. He brings you back up as you hack and cough, wriggling in his arms. 

“Ugh, you two, no one wants to see it so go somewhere else,” Kissie chides. 

“Yeah,” Angelique agrees and you glance over to find her glowering. 

“It’s not going to happen,” you shove on Colin until he lets you go. 

You splash down and his hand brushes your ass. You swipe him away again. You stomp through the water, fighting through the depths, and come up onto the beach. 

You need water. Three drinks was way too much. So much that you’re half-considering Colin. He’s a creep but you’re getting a bit antsy. You should’ve known vodka was a bad mix with half-naked hotties. 

You sit down on the blanket and untwist the cap of your water bottle. You chug about a quarter then wipe your mouth. Someone drops down beside you. You peer out at the water in confusion before you look over. 

Bucky sits on the other side of the blanket. The sun shines over the silver streaks in his hair as he wears all black; tee and jeans. He’s unbothered by the sweltering rays. 

“So why didn’t you mention you were going away?” He asks as he rests his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together. 

“How-- what are you doing here?” 

“I don’t take too kindly to being ditched,” he looks at you, his jaw clicking. 

“Ditched? No, Bucky,” you look away. “I... I had this planned for a while, I just... forgot to say. I mean...” you pick at your lip. “Look, it was a lot of fun. You and I,” you smile at him. “But like, that’s it, right? I mean, we’re neighbours, we don’t want it to get weird. And I’m a bit young for you--” 

“I said that. I told you that,” he hisses as a lock of hair falls forward. His eyes swirl like the lake. “I begged you to back off and you said you wanted me.” 

“Bucky...” 

“No, you told me I was perfect for you.” 

“Perfect in the moment, but--” 

“This isn’t a fucking game. I’m too old for that. I spent enough time locked up that I’m well-past this bullshit,” he snarls and you wince. You’ve never seen him like this. And the mystery of how he even found you has you reeling. 

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear--” 

“You fucking started this. You,” his lips trembles. “I warned you. I told you to stop over and over. Don’t make me the bad guy.” He shakes his head as his eyes search the horizon. He brings his hands to his cheeks and drags them through his stubble. “Then I fucking see you out in there in the water with some fuckhead--” 

“Bucky--” 

“Let’s get one thing straight. It’s not over. Not fucking close,” he growls. He leans forward and pushes himself up. He stands over you, a blight against the bright blue sky. “I’ll be fucking watching. Understand. You have your fun but not too much.” He balls his tattooed fist. “And that boy touches you again, I’ll break every single fucking finger on his hands. Then I’ll slice his dick off.” 

You stare at him, stunned. You’re confused. Is this some hallucination? Is the sun playing tricks on you? 

“You’re fucking mine and I don’t mess around with my territory.” He grits down at you. “I’m your first, your last, your only.” He points at you. “Doll.” 

He marches away, unhindered by the sand in his thick-treaded boots. You turn to watch him and shudder. You look at the water. The rest are perfectly ignorant, splashing each other, tossing the frisbees, diving under. None of them have any idea that he’s there. You suspect if they find out, it won’t be good. 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 1] l Harry Castillo

Summary:  you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), one pregnant woman, some alcohol, two broken hearts, one lie

A/N: I'm not sure if I should have posted this. But I couldn't help myself because this story has been in my head for two days and if I don't get it out I'm going to go crazy. Let me know what you think and if I should continue. Thanks to the people who put up with my doubtful ranting. please be gentle with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist]

"I told you that you should put up a signpost or sprinkle crumbs on the floor."

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, and you smiled to yourself. You drove Harry Castillo to the brink of madness. “You’ve been to my apartment so many times, so why haven’t you learned the layout yet? You know where my office is.”

"I don't know." you replied, pouting your lip. "Maybe because it's a real maze?"

"Where are you?"

“I’m standing in front of some weird sculpture.” You looked at this piece of art, which was probably worth a few thousand dollars, for five minutes, Harry probably thought you were wandering around his penthouse.

Another sigh. He was already close to breaking down, but he tried to sound calm. His low, warm voice resonated in your receiver again. "How weird is this sculpture?"

"Weird enough."

You could barely contain your laughter when you heard a muffled "Jesus Christ." You adjusted the folders you were holding in your arms, looking around the spacious hallway. The conclusion appeared in your head that Harry would soon start looking for you himself, so you spoke up.

"I see the kitchen on the right."

"Great. So go left." He rubbed his eyes with his hand and leaned back in the chair. He could hear your footsteps in the receiver. "You should pass three rooms on the left, then turn right and..."

"Oh!"

A strange shiver ran down his spine. "What's that 'oh' supposed to mean?"

You cleared your throat. "Harry, this room is weird. I didn't expect that from you..."

"W-What? What are you talking about..."

"These whips, the leather... Jesus. And this?" There was silence for a moment. Harry thought it would take forever. "How is that supposed to fit in there? It won't fit. Or maybe..."

“What the hell?!” he shot up in his chair. “Where are you?” but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the door to his office open.

His assistant stood there, clutching a folder of documents to her chest and the most disarming smile on her face. He rolled his eyes, unsure whether he should fire her or kill her.

"Gotcha!" You chuckled and entered the office with a determined step "I brought what you asked for."

Harry Castillo, CEO of a large multi-million dollar company, watched as his assistant placed a folder of documents and Chinese takeout in front of him. It was supposed to be another Friday night, where you try to plan the coming week instead of trying your luck at bars or watching TV on the couch.

You had worked for him for almost a year, and your relationship had quickly changed from formal to friendly. Although you still called him Mr. Castillo at work, you were both more casual outside of that setting.

The job was very fulfilling, but your personal life was a complete mess. Apart from a few friends at work, there wasn't much going on there. But the pay was decent, and your boss was a really nice guy, so...

"Mark said he'd send the report tonight. That email you were waiting for also arrived." you said, sitting down on the comfortable chair in front of his desk and quickly scrolling through your phone "Mrs. Smith asked to contact you after the weekend. She has a few questions about the contract."

It wasn't until you tore your gaze away from the screen that you noticed Harry watching you intently from behind the desk, his dark eyes fixed on you. The white T-shirt hugged his broad, strong shoulders nicely, and a smile played on his lips.

"Is something wrong?" you asked uncertainly.

"I need you." Harry replied. Now a strange shiver ran down your spine and you gripped your phone tighter.

"What do you mean?"

He tilted his head without taking his gaze off you. "I need a woman."

He watched with delight as your eyes widened and your mouth parted in silent surprise. It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing at the sight.

"A w-women?" you finally repeated in a choked voice "In what sense? To what? No! Don't tell me!"

You squeezed your eyes shut, raising your hands as if you wanted to stop him, although Harry was still sitting at his desk and still just staring at you.

Finally he decided to take pity on you. “A good friend of mine is getting married on Saturday. I want you to go with me.”

You opened one eye, then the other, and burst out laughing. “No, no, no!” you shook your head. “Good joke. I go with you to client meetings, not to your friends’ weddings. You have many friends, beautiful women, why don’t you invite any of them?”

Harry leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. He was a handsome man, and you were sure there were plenty of women who would love to go to a party like this with him.

"Maybe I've already asked them and you're the only one left, darling?"

“Ouch, that hurt.” you mumbled, squinting. “I’ll have to say no too. I don’t have…”

"I'll buy you a dress tomorrow, no problem. The wedding is in the afternoon, so we'll make it." He smiled at you as if the decision had already been made and you had no other choice.

“Harry…” You sighed. “That’s not the point. You know, I… I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” He frowned, so you tried to explain. “These people, your friends, aren’t my world. They’re always so beautiful and dazzling, and I…”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Do you think I'm some kind of higher class or something? A better species of human?”

"Can I be honest? On the Titanic you would definitely have first class. I would have been below deck."

“Jesus!” he laughed and shook his head. “I assure you, honey, you will be the most interesting person at this wedding. I know what I mean. Besides, you will be with me. If this ship sinks, you can take the door, I won’t argue with you about it.”

You shook your head, smiling slightly and not believing that you had given in to him.

The place looked like it was cut out of a wedding magazine. Your eyes moved from the crystal chandelier, to the tables covered with snow-white tablecloths, to the vases with beautiful bouquets of flowers. Soft music flowed from the corner of the room where a band made up of several professional musicians stood.

You almost jumped when someone placed a hand on your back. "Harry, don't do that." You said, feeling your heart speed up.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked, smiling friendly. He looked stunning in a well-tailored suit and styled hair. When you nodded, he led you to your table.

He could see that you were stressed. Although you looked stunning in your dress, which beautifully emphasized your curves, and many eyes were looking after you, you kept smiling nervously and were rather silent. It wasn't like you so Harry did everything to cheer you up, and he was great at it. 

He didn't leave you alone with people you didn't know for long, his arm always served as your support and he made you laugh whenever he had the chance. That evening would have passed pleasantly if not for the fact that when you were coming back from the bathroom you heard a familiar voice that froze you. Someone said your name and when you turned around you saw him.

"Daniel! What a surprise! What are you doing here?" you smiled even though you had the impression that someone had just squeezed your insides with a vice.

A tall and slim brunette approached you smiling, the suit he was wearing looked really impressive. "It's my friend's wedding. And what are you doing here? Are you a friend?"

"I'm accompanying someone." you replied.

Daniel nodded in appreciation. "I came with my wife. Do you remember Beth?"

Oh, you remembered Beth. Very well to be honest. It was for her that he left you three years ago. You followed your gaze to the place he indicated and saw a beautiful blonde with a nicely rounded belly. Something sharp must have pierced your heart, but you bravely smiled.

"Still looking for a job?" Daniel leaned slightly towards you. "A friend of mine is looking for a secretary. He runs a construction company, I can give you his number."

"Thank you, but I'm not looking for a job right now. I'm happy with what I have."

Daniel shrugged. "You've never needed much, have you?"

The words got stuck in your throat. For a few moments you didn't know what to answer, and at the same time you were afraid that whatever left your lips would be immediately turned against you. Daniel was a master at this.

Suddenly, someone said your name again and in the back of the room you noticed Harry, who was walking away from a group of elegant-looking men and heading towards you.

"It's Harry Castillo." Daniel mumbled, straightening up. "I didn't know he was here."

"Yeah, it's his good friend's wedding. We came together and..."

"You're with Harry Castillo?"

It was too easy. You knew perfectly well that you shouldn't do it, but your lips moved before your brain had time to react properly. "Yes, we're here together."

It wasn't a lie. Not completely.

"I was worried about you." Harry said, walking over to you and smiling politely at Daniel. He quickly extended his hand in greeting.

"Daniel Stevens." He introduced himself. "I'm a lawyer."

"Nice to meet you." Harry looked at you expectantly.

"Daniel and I, we've known each other for a while. And this is his wife, Beth."

A pretty blonde walked up to you and Daniel put his arm around her, straightening up proudly. A woman like her was definitely the crowning achievement of his career. You weren't cut out for this. 

Even though you kept a smile on your lips, the whole conversation felt like a speeding bus was heading towards you. Harry was as polite as ever and didn't even bat an eyelid when Daniel mentioned "She said that you are together. It must be something new, because nothing has spread around town yet."

"We want to keep it private. You understand, Daniel." Harry replied smoothly and without hesitation, placing his hand on the small of your back and looking at you fondly. "A woman like that is a treasure, I want to enjoy her before we show ourselves to the world."

Daniel nodded as if he understood what Harry meant, and Beth let out a fond sigh. After a few moments, you said goodbye and Harry led you towards the door.

“Do you want to tell me more?” he asked quietly, more amused than angry.

You shook your head. "Just throw me under the car." you muttered "Damn! I knew I shouldn't have come here."

Harry immediately sensed that something was wrong. You seemed more tense and withdrawn during the whole conversation. "Who was that?" he asked.

You took a deep breath. "My ex-boyfriend. And Beth... That's the woman he left me for. And as you can see, she's pregnant now. Wonderful, right?" you tried to laugh, but it came out so fake that you quickly fell silent.

"So that's why you told him that you and I... That we're together?"

You stopped. You looked so pathetic that his heart almost broke.

"I didn't lie to him. Not really." you finally said. "I told him that we were here together. Daniel took it differently."

“So maybe I should explain it to him?” Harry made a move as if to go back to the party and find Daniel, but you quickly grabbed his arm.

"No, please!" you groaned. "Don't make me feel even worse. This whole situation is already embarrassing enough. Daniel will forget about it by tomorrow."

"If you say so." Harry sighed and put his arm around you. "Come on, I'll take you home. It's been a long day."

You were quiet as you climbed into the backseat of his car, your gaze barely leaving the window as the driver drove you through the dark city. Harry didn't say a word either, respecting your silence. But this wasn't how he expected the evening to end.

It wasn’t until you were standing in front of your apartment that he heard your quiet voice. “Thank you, Harry. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

He smiled, and at the same time, a small smile appeared on your lips. He reached for your hand and squeezed it lightly. “You always have me by your side. And you can always count on me.”

"I know. Thank you."

He watched you for a moment longer, then you said goodbye to him and the driver and got out, leaving him alone.

Harry Castillo had almost everything a man his age could ever want. A thriving company that was making millions, a penthouse in the heart of New York City, and an expensive car. But the expensive suits he wore and the clothes made of the best materials couldn't hide what he really lacked. Closeness.

Although he was surrounded by many people, when the door to his 12 million apartment closed behind him, he felt really lonely. Harry was slowly approaching fifty and was starting to wonder if it wasn't a bit too late for him. Maybe he had missed a moment in his life?

Yes, he had met many beautiful women, had gone on dates, but it was never long-term, and that was exactly what he was looking for. He wanted someone who could be just his, who would love him and ask how his day was. Someone he could watch stupid movies with on the couch, go on vacation, or just be bored. Was he asking for too much?

"Do we really have to do this today? Everyone has gone home." The door to his office slammed shut, and then he heard a dull thud as you plopped down on the couch. Harry smiled to himself and turned away from the huge window that overlooked the city at night.

"We'll get this over with in a minute and then I'll drop you home. Is that okay with you?" he asked, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "I'm not sure. I could have snuck out with the others."

"My personal assistant tells me things like that?" he frowned, but at the same time smiled and sat down next to you. "It's just some folders to look through. It'll take us an hour at most. Would you like a drink?"

You shook your head and lifted the mug of tea you had brought with you. You grabbed the first folder and flipped through it. "You have a sponsors' party this week. I've cleared the evening and morning for you."

"Thank you."

For a moment, you were both focused on your work. You were putting the next reviewed documents on the empty chair, and the room was filled with your quiet typing on the laptop keyboard. Harry took a sip of whiskey and glanced in your direction.

You were so focused that you completely ignored him. A small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows as your eyes ran over the next lines of text.

“Would you like to go to this party with me?” he asked, breaking the silence, and when you looked at him, he added, “We’ve been having quite a bit of fun together lately.”

“Do you really think so?” you were surprised, remembering Daniel and the situation that had taken place at the wedding. “Can’t you bring one of your friends with you? You were dating Jean recently, right? What about her?”

Harry shook his head and smacked his lips. “It’s over. I don’t know if it’s even started, though.” He shrugged, and you felt sorry for him. Harry was a really great guy, even though he was your boss. Handsome, tall, well-mannered, he always made the people around him feel seen.

“Can I be honest?” you asked, putting your work aside for a moment, and Harry’s brown eyes landed on you expectantly. “I feel like you’ve jumped headfirst into a pool without even knowing how much water there is. I mean, when you meet someone and you just go for it. Expensive restaurants, gifts, flowers, weekends together… You fulfill all their dreams and whims, and yet you don’t want anything in return. I wonder where you are in all of this.”

Harry analyzed your words for a moment, until he finally spoke. "So you think I should..."

"You should really get to know someone first. And then they should get to know you too. Because you have a lot to offer, and I don't mean money or anything like that. But the real you..."

Silence fell after your words. You stared at Harry's profile, his prominent nose, the fine lines around his eyes, you noticed a few grey hairs at his temple. He was really handsome and you were surprised that you had to explain such things to him.

Finally, he moved his gaze to your face again. "How is it possible that you are still single?"

You smiled sadly. "I am a lot to handle."

"Not true. Who told you that?"

But you didn’t answer that question. Harry could tell you were sad, though you tried to hide it by looking back at your computer screen. “I think we should get back to work.” You finally said. “We don’t have much left.”

For a moment his attentive gaze rested on you, analyzing your words.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[kaiyunsim]

heartsync —

pairing : loser!jaehyun x gn!reader

summary : boring days lead you to download the stupidly popular ai matchmaking app, 'heartsync,' thinking that you would be matched with a bot. next thing you know, you have to maintain a dating score with this loser guy in order to avoid a hefty cancellation fee

warnings : fluff, slight angst, lowkey embarssing jaehyun, kinda fake dating,

a/n : i am addicted to losers. also writers block lwk hitting me so sorry if this isn't that good :(

— wc : 9.2k — not proof read —

notification !

tired of swiping and second-guessing? 🙄 let HeartSync™ match you based on more than just profiles. whether it’s fate or algorithms, HeartSync™ brings people together in unexpected ways. coffee shops ☕, grocery stores 🛒, or even your favorite songs 🎶. with personalized challenges 🎯 and quirky tasks 😏, it’s the app that makes you question what’s real… and what’s meant to be 💫.

ready to dive into a relationship that’s anything but ordinary? 😏 download now and let your heart sync ❤️‍🔥

you should’ve known something was up the second kazuha slid her phone across the table with a sly grin.

"you need this," she says, all too pleased with herself.

sungho leans in beside her, chin resting on his hand. "oh, absolutely. it’s the next big thing."

you glance down at the screen, unimpressed. "heartsync™? that sounds like a scam."

"it’s not," kazuha insists. "it's a revolution."

you narrow your eyes at her. "revolution is a strong word for a dating app."

sungho gestures wildly. "no, listen! this isn’t some basic swiping app. heartsync is, like, the future. ai-driven, hyper-accurate matchmaking." he wiggles his fingers in an attempt to look mysterious. "it scans all your online activity, text patterns, subconscious preferences—"

"wait, subconscious preferences?" you interrupt. "how the hell does it know what i subconsciously want?"

"science," kazuha says, as if that explains anything.

you stare at them, unimpressed. "so you’re telling me this thing invades my privacy, judges me, and then picks out some rando for me to date?"

"yep," sungho grins.

"hard pass."

kazhua sighs dramatically. "you’re so boring. come on, think about it. what if it actually works?"

"it won’t."

"but what if it does?"

you cross your arms. "i give it a week before i get matched with some weird middle-aged man who lives in his mom’s basement."

sungho gasps. "have a little faith, will you?!"

you snort, but kazuha suddenly looks too smug for your liking. before you can question it, your phone buzzes. you glance down.

"your friends are looking out for you! 💖 kazuha has sent you an invite to join heartsync™! experience true compatibility today. 💘"

you slowly raise your head. "zuha, did you just—"

"yep," she says.

"you—"

"it’s already downloading," sungho chimes in.

you look down at your phone in horror. sure enough, the app is installing.

"oh my god.”

jaehyun doesn’t even look up from his drink when taesan slides into the seat across from him, grinning like he’s about to be a menace.

"bro," taesan says, setting his phone down dramatically. "i found the solution to your dry-ass dating life."

jaehyun finally glances up. "i have a dating life."

woonhak, sitting beside him, lets out an exaggerated cough.

jaehyun glares. "shut up."

"he's not wrong," taesan snickers. "c’mon, look at this." he turns his phone around, revealing a sleek interface. jaehyun squints.

"heartsync?"

"ai-powered matchmaking, man. scientifically proven to find your perfect match."

jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "you sound like a bad infomercial."

woonhak leans in. "we already signed up. it’s, like, next-level tech. the app literally studies your habits, patterns, even your subconscious preferences."

jaehyun blinks. "that sounds illegal."

"nah, nah, just invasive," taesan says. "but in a good way."

jaehyun scoffs. "no such thing."

"just try it," woonhak says. "worst case, you get matched with someone weird and you ghost them."

"oh, so now i’m ghosting people?"

"what, like you don’t?" taesan smirks.

jaehyun rolls his eyes, but his phone suddenly buzzes.

"your best bros have your back! 💙 taesan has invited you to join heartsync™! what are you waiting for? your perfect match is waiting! 😉"

he looks up slowly. "you did not just—"

"i did," taesan grins.

woonhak claps him on the back. "welcome to the future, buddy."

jaehyun sighs. "you guys are the worst."

"and yet, here you are, downloading it," taesan singsongs.

jaehyun looks down at his phone. the app is downloading.

"...i hate you both."

setting up the app is way too easy. after a quick sign-up, a series of personality quizzes appear. you answer them halfheartedly, picking whatever feels right in the moment.

you expect a generic dating profile, but instead, a contract pops up.

"welcome to heartsync™'s exclusive perfect pair program! 💖 congratulations! by signing up, you agree to a 30-day trial relationship with your most compatible match. failure to complete the program will result in a penalty fee. please review the terms carefully. 📝"

you frown. "wait. penalty fee?"

kazhua leans over. "probably just a deterrent. no way they actually charge people."

"i don’t like this."

"it’s fine, just hit accept."

you squint at her, but against your better judgment, you press the button.

jaehyun does the same thing across town, equally suspicious.

then, both your phones buzz simultaneously.

"congratulations! 🎉 you’ve been matched! meet your perfect pair: myung jaehyun."

"congratulations! 🎉 you’ve been matched! meet your perfect pair: y/n."

jaehyun squints at his screen. "who the hell is y/n?"

you stare at yours. "who the hell is myung jaehyun?"

then, another notification.

"your first date has been scheduled! 🥰 see you at [reastaurant] tomorrow at 7 PM! remember: love is about commitment! 💞 failure to attend will result in a violation of your contract. 😘"

your stomach drops.

"...i think i just got scammed."

jaehyun, staring at the exact same message, mutters, "what the fuck?"

sungho and kazuha are dying.

"you’re stuck in a relationship for 30 days?!" sungho wheezes. "oh my god, i’m crying."

"this is the best thing that’s ever happened," kazuha says, wiping a fake tear.

you glare. "it’s not funny!"

"it’s hilarious," sungho corrects.

you groan. "this is the worst decision of my life."

kazhua gasps. "are you saying you regret trusting me?"

"yes."

"rude."

meanwhile, jaehyun is getting absolutely clowned on by his friends.

"so let me get this straight," taesan says, grinning like an idiot. "you’re contractually obligated to date this person?"

jaehyun rubs his temples. "apparently."

woonhak snickers. "bro. you’re trapped."

"i hate you both."

"nah," taesan says. "you love us. just like you’re about to love your new partner."

jaehyun looks up with dead eyes. "i hope the app malfunctions and matches you with each other."

woonhak gasps. "how dare you!"

"that would be so tragic," taesan grins. "imagine getting stuck in a relationship with woonhak."

woonhak shoves him. "shut up! i’d be a great boyfriend!"

jaehyun groans. "i cannot believe i let you guys talk me into this."

but before either of them can reply, his phone buzzes again.

"just a reminder! ❤️ your first date is TOMORROW at 7 PM! 💕 don’t keep your perfect match waiting! 😘 failure to attend will result in consequences. 🔥"

jaehyun stares at it.

"...i think i just signed my soul away."

you, staring at the exact same notification, sigh deeply.

what have you gotten yourself into?

...what?

you quickly scroll down. there’s a long wall of text in tiny font. definitely the terms and conditions you skimmed through without reading.

"effective immediately, you are required to actively participate in this relationship for the full 30-day duration. early termination will result in a penalty fee of—"

you freeze.

oh, hell no.

the penalty fee is HOW MUCH?!

"guys," you say, voice flat. "i think i just got scammed."

kazuh and sungho exchange glances. kazuha grabs your phone again and scrolls. her eyebrows shoot up. "holy shit. you’re stuck?"

"define stuck," you say, already dreading the answer.

sungho reads further. "...yep. stuck. you gotta go on dates, talk to this guy, and if you try to ignore him, the app gets passive-aggressive about it."

as if on cue, a new notification pops up.

"ghosting is unhealthy! say hi to your partner within the next 12 hours to maintain a positive relationship score. 💕"

you stare at the screen in horror.

kazuha and sungho? already laughing their asses off.

"this is the best thing that’s ever happened," sungho wheezes.

"no, no, this is cursed," you say, shaking your head. "there has to be a way out of this."

sungho grins. "you could pay the fee."

"i’m not paying that much just to escape some ai-manufactured relationship," you grumble.

kazuh, still laughing, pats your shoulder. "guess you’re dating myung jaehyun now."

somewhere else, jaehyun is also freaking out.

"taesan, what the hell did you make me sign up for?"

jaehyun stares at his phone like it just personally betrayed him.

"you got matched?" taesan asks, amused. he leans over jaehyun’s shoulder to check. "ohhh. wait. you actually got someone decent-looking. nice."

"not nice!" jaehyun exclaims, shoving his phone in taesan’s face. "look at this! it’s a contract. i have to date this person for 30 days or i have to pay an insane fee."

taesan reads for a second, then bursts out laughing. "holy shit. you’re trapped."

"why didn’t you tell me this could happen?!"

"because i didn’t think you’d actually get a match."

"what do i do?" jaehyun groans, scratching the back of his head.

"just go with it," taesan says. "it’s only a month. fake-date them, get some free meals, and worst-case scenario, you make a new friend."

jaehyun grumbles. "what if they suck?"

"what if you suck?"

"i mean, yeah, probably," jaehyun admits. "but still."

his phone buzzes.

"say hi to your partner within 12 hours to maintain a positive relationship score! 💕"

jaehyun stares blankly at the notification. then he looks at taesan.

"okay, but, like… do i get a refund if i cry?"

taesan cackles. "nope. no refunds, buddy. enjoy your new relationship."

jaehyun groans and flops onto the couch, phone balanced on his chest, already regretting everything.

you’re still convinced you’ve been scammed.

it’s not just the fact that you’re contractually obligated to go on this date, it’s the restaurant.

"how the hell did it know?" you mutter, staring at the notification again.

sungho leans over your shoulder, reading it for the tenth time. "i mean… it’s a little creepy."

"it’s very creepy," you correct. "i’ve never put this place in my location history, never mentioned it online, never even texted about it."

kazuha hums, sipping her drink. "maybe you thought about it too hard and the app just knew."

you look at her like she’s insane. "you’re telling me heartsync can read my mind now?"

"i mean, why not? it already owns your soul."

"not helping."

sungho suddenly perks up, squinting at the name on your screen. "wait. myung jaehyun?"

"yeah?"

he snaps his fingers. "oh! i had a class with him last year."

you blink. "and you’re only mentioning this now?"

sungho shrugs. "i forgot. but, uh…" he pauses. "he’s kinda a loser. in a cute way."

you stare at him. "define cute loser."

"like, y’know. a little awkward. kinda clumsy. but he’s not a bad guy."

kazuha raises an eyebrow. "so what i’m hearing is, you’ve already got an advantage."

"what advantage?" you ask flatly.

"you can be the cool one in this relationship," she says, smirking.

sungho grins. "oh yeah, you’ve already won."

you groan, sinking into your seat. "why am i even doing this?"

"because you’re legally bound by a contract," kazuha reminds you.

"right. love that for me."

jaehyun has the same problem.

"this is weird," he mutters, staring at his phone.

woonhak peeks over his shoulder. "dude, how did it know your favorite restaurant?"

"i don’t know."

"have you ever posted about it?" taesan asks.

"nope."

"checked in there?"

"never."

woonhak whistles. "yeah, that’s terrifying."

jaehyun groans. "why am i even going?"

taesan pats his shoulder. "because you’re legally bound by a contract."

jaehyun glares. "i hate you."

you arrive at the restaurant five minutes early, because despite your skepticism, you do respect punctuality.

what you don’t expect is to see someone already waiting at the entrance.

he's tall, a little awkward in the way he shifts on his feet, checking his phone. glasses slipping down his nose.

you approach cautiously. "...myung jaehyun?"

he looks up, blinking.

oh.

he’s kinda cute. in a loser-y way.

"oh," he says. "uh. hey."

you stare at each other for a beat.

jaehyun scratches the back of his neck. "so, uh… this is weird, right?"

"extremely."

he lets out a short laugh. "cool, just making sure."

you glance at the restaurant. "wanna get this over with?"

"yep."

you head inside together.

the weirdness doesn’t stop there.

you both open the menu, and your phones buzz at the same time.

"feeling indecisive? 💡 you both love the same dish! try the spicy seafood pasta! 🍝💖"

you slowly look up at jaehyun.

he looks back, expression unreadable.

"...so, uh," you start.

"are we just gonna ignore that?" he asks.

"we could."

jaehyun nods. "cool. because that was terrifying."

you both order the pasta anyway.

somewhere between the appetizer and the main course, the awkwardness starts to fade.

you’re still skeptical, but… conversation with jaehyun is weirdly easy.

he’s funny in an unintentional way. a little clumsy with his words, but quick to laugh at himself. it’s not what you expected.

"so," he says between bites, "are you, like, willingly doing this, or were you also tricked by your so-called friends?"

you groan. "tricked. sungho and kazuha set me up."

"ah," jaehyun nods. "taesan and woonhak did the same to me."

"so we’re both victims."

"basically."

you clink your glasses in mutual suffering.

then, another notification.

"running out of things to talk about? try reminiscing about your childhood talent show disaster! 😆✨"

you both freeze.

jaehyun slowly looks up. "...did your phone just say—?"

"yep," you cut in.

"what the hell?"

"no idea."

you stare at each other.

then jaehyun cautiously asks, "...did you actually have a childhood talent show disaster?"

you hesitate. "...maybe."

his eyes widen. "no way."

"look, it wasn’t that bad—"

"tell me everything."

you sigh, defeated. "i was seven, okay? i was supposed to sing. i got up there, forgot all the words, panicked, and ended up just dancing instead."

jaehyun claps. "improv! i respect that."

"bad improv," you correct.

"still, you committed. that’s what matters.”

and just like that, the skepticism eases.

then the app sends another notification.

"bonding over past failures? we love to see it! 😍💕 by the way, your partner thinks the nickname 'woonbaby' is hilarious. go ahead, try it! 😏"

you blink.

jaehyun reads his own notification.

then he looks at you, face slowly turning red.

"...what the fuck?"

you can’t help it. you laugh. "what the hell is woonbaby?"

jaehyun groans, covering his face. "it’s—it’s stupid. my friend woonhak. someone called him that once and it just stuck."

"oh my god," you grin. "you definitely still call him that."

"i do not," jaehyun lies.

you raise an eyebrow. "so if you text him right now and ask, he won’t confirm?"

jaehyun opens his mouth, then closes it.

"...no comment."

you cackle.

"oh my god," jaehyun mutters, slumping in his seat. "i hate this app."

"i love this app," you say gleefully.

by the time the bill arrives, you have to admit something.

this was not a disaster.

you’re still weirded out by the app’s accuracy. it’s unsettling how well it seems to know you both.

but jaehyun?

...he’s not so bad.

"so," he says as you both step outside, hands in pockets. "same time next week?"

you blink. "what?"

he holds up his phone.

"congrats! 🎉 your next date is scheduled for next friday! love takes consistency! 💖 ditching is not an option. 😉"

you groan. "again?"

"yep."

"...fine."

jaehyun grins. "see you then, partner."

you shake your head, but you can’t help the small smile forming.

what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

—

you’re in the middle of something important when your phone buzzes.

"surprise! 🎉 we’ve scheduled a spontaneous date night for you and jaehyun! quality time is crucial for growing relationships! 💕 see you at 7PM! 😘"

you stare at the screen.

then you glance at the time.

6:20PM.

"are you kidding me?" you say aloud.

sungho and kazuha look up from where they’re sprawled across your couch, watching a drama. "what?" kazuha asks.

"this stupid app just scheduled a date."

"wait, i thought your next one wasn’t until friday," sungho says.

"it was," you emphasize. "now it’s tonight. at seven."

sungho winces. "oh, that’s rough."

kazuha squints. "can’t you just cancel?"

you shake your head and turn your screen to them.

"cancelling is NOT an option! 🫵😤 love takes EFFORT! 💖"

kazuha snorts. "damn. that app is really holding you hostage."

you sigh. "i hate this."

sungho shrugs. "on the bright side, at least jaehyun is fun to mess with."

you scowl, but you don’t argue.

jaehyun is having an equally miserable time.

"you have got to be kidding me," he groans.

taesan and woonhak glance up from where they’re messing around on the studio couch. "what?" woonhak asks.

jaehyun turns his phone to them.

taesan squints. "another date? bro, you just had one."

"i know," jaehyun says, exasperated. "i have work to do!"

"just reschedule," woonhak suggests.

jaehyun gives him a deadpan look and flips his phone back around.

"cancelling is NOT an option! 🫵😤 love takes EFFORT! 💖"

woonhak bursts out laughing. "nah, this is hilarious."

"i hate this app," jaehyun mutters.

"okay, but like," taesan leans forward, "where are you even supposed to take them? don’t you have to finish your demo?"

jaehyun groans, rubbing his face. "yeah. i do."

he stares at his screen for a second, then sighs. "i guess they’re just coming here."

woonhak and taesan exchange glances.

"bold," woonhak comments.

"risky," taesan adds.

jaehyun throws a notebook at them.

you’re about five seconds away from ghosting when your phone buzzes.

myung jaehyun: uh. slight change of plans myung jaehyun: i’m stuck in the studio bc i have work to finish myung jaehyun: so if you’re cool with it, you can just come here?

you stare at the message.

then you sigh.

you: send me the address

a moment later, it comes through.

you grab your things and head out, still half-annoyed, half-curious about what you’re walking into.

jaehyun’s studio is tucked away in a quieter part of the city, the kind of place you’d probably never stumble upon unless you were looking for it.

the building itself is older, but inside, it’s got that warm, slightly chaotic energy of a space that’s lived in.

post-it notes are stuck to random surfaces. half-full water bottles clutter the desks. a worn couch sits against the wall, surrounded by tangled cables and spare equipment.

jaehyun is hunched over the desk, headphones around his neck, messy hair even messier than usual. he spins in his chair when you walk in, eyes slightly wide.

"oh. hey."

"hey," you say, glancing around. "so this is where the magic happens?"

"uh," jaehyun scratches the back of his neck, "something like that."

you step further inside, taking in the mix of instruments, wires, and open project files on the screen.

"you work here alone?"

"nah," jaehyun gestures vaguely. "woonhak and taesan share this space with me, but they’re not here right now."

"cool."

an awkward pause.

jaehyun clears his throat. "so, uh… i do have to work, but you can hang out? there’s snacks in that cabinet, and the couch is—"

you flop onto the couch before he can finish his sentence.

jaehyun blinks. "—yeah. okay. make yourself at home."

you grin. "thanks, host."

jaehyun groans but turns back to his screen, muttering something about "stupid app forcing dates at the worst times."

you watch him for a moment as he scrolls through his project.

his sleeves are pushed up, revealing the faint ink stains on his fingers. his foot taps absently against the floor as he listens to the playback.

you close your eyes and let the soft hum of music fill the space.

time passes.

jaehyun works. you scroll through your phone, occasionally glancing up to watch him tweak something in his file.

it’s… oddly peaceful.

you get up and sit down at the desk next to him, he’s too immersed to acknowldge you.

despite the forced nature of this whole situation, there’s something nice about sitting in a space where someone is just doing what they love.

you start to relax.

and at some point, without even meaning to, you start to drift off.

jaehyun only notices when he turns around to say something and sees you slumped over the desk next to him, head resting on your arms.

he freezes.

stares.

panics.

oh shit oh shit oh shit.

you’re asleep.

here. in his studio.

jaehyun is hyperaware of everything. the quiet rise and fall of your breathing. the way your fingers are curled slightly, like you were mid-scroll before you passed out.

he has no idea what to do.

should he wake you up? would that be rude? but if he doesn’t, is that weirder?

he’s still spiraling when the door swings open.

"forgot my charger," taesan says, stepping inside. "also, i’m stealing your—"

he stops.

jaehyun can feel the moment taesan processes the scene in front of him.

then—

"holy shit."

jaehyun whips around. "shut up."

taesan grins. "no way. you’re actually—"

"shut. up."

taesan snickers. "oh, this is amazing."

jaehyun glares. "don’t. start."

but it’s too late. taesan is already pulling out his phone.

"bro," he whispers, cackling, "you’re literally watching them like they’re a rare bird species."

"i am not," jaehyun hisses.

"you so are. oh my god."

jaehyun is about to throw something when you shift slightly, letting out a soft sigh.

both of them freeze.

taesan vibrates with silent laughter.

jaehyun, who is now very much contemplating murder, snaps, "get your stupid charger and leave."

taesan holds his hands up in surrender, still grinning. "alright, alright. relax, lover boy."

jaehyun throws a notebook at him.

taesan leaves.

jaehyun exhales, running a hand through his hair.

he turns back to you.

you’re still asleep, breathing steady, face relaxed.

he sighs.

and despite himself, despite the utter embarrassment of this entire situation…

he can’t help the small, stupid smile that tugs at his lips.

this app is so dumb.

but maybe…

just maybe…

it’s onto something.

you wake up slowly, the kind of hazy drift between sleep and awareness where you don’t quite remember where you are.

there’s the soft hum of music. the faint scratch of a pen. the scent of something vaguely citrusy, mixed with the underlying warmth of a well-used space.

then—

"finally awake?"

you blink blearily. jaehyun is sitting at the desk, spinning a pen between his fingers, watching you with an amused expression.

reality clicks into place.

the studio. the forced date. you, falling asleep like an idiot.

you groan, rubbing your face. "how long was i out?"

jaehyun shrugs. "an hour? maybe more?"

you wince. "why didn’t you wake me up?"

"you looked comfortable," he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you stare at him.

jaehyun stares back.

heat creeps up the back of your neck. you push it down and scowl instead. "so you just let me drool all over your desk?"

"you didn’t drool," jaehyun says. then, after a pause, "probably."

you groan again and stretch, the stiffness in your neck making you regret everything. "well, thanks for that. i guess."

jaehyun chuckles, spinning back to his screen. "anytime."

you roll your eyes but don’t fight the small smile threatening to form.

you end up staying.

it’s not like you planned to, but the vibe is easy, and jaehyun is… well.

he’s kind of nice to be around.

he works while you scroll through your phone, occasionally showing him something stupid that makes him snort. at one point, he grabs a bag of chips from a shelf and wordlessly hands it to you.

"what’s this for?" you ask.

"you skipped dinner."

you blink. "how do you know?"

jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "because i also skipped dinner, and i didn’t see you eat anything either."

…fair point.

you take the bag and mumble a thanks. jaehyun just shrugs like it’s no big deal.

somewhere between talking about absolutely nothing, watching him edit his project, and accidentally getting crumbs all over the desk, you start to forget that this whole thing was a forced date.

it doesn’t feel like one anymore.

and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

it’s nearly midnight when you check your phone and realize how late it’s gotten.

"shit," you mutter.

jaehyun glances up. "huh?"

"i should probably go."

he blinks, like he just processed the time himself. "oh. right."

you stand, stretching again, then glance at him. "you gonna keep working?"

"for a bit," jaehyun says, rubbing his neck. "i’m almost done."

you nod, then hesitate.

you’re not sure why you hesitate.

but before you can overthink it, you blurt out, "this wasn’t that bad."

jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "wow. high praise."

"shut up," you say, rolling your eyes.

he grins. "but yeah. wasn’t that bad."

you huff, grabbing your things. "see you friday, loser."

"see you, drooler."

you flip him off as you walk out the door.

jaehyun just laughs.

as you head home, your phone buzzes.

"congrats! 🎉 you’ve just completed an unplanned date! we bet you had a GREAT time 😘💖 can’t wait for friday! 😍"

you stare at the notification.

then you scoff, shaking your head.

stupid app.

—

you just want your morning coffee.

that’s it. just a simple, peaceful start to your day before dealing with actual responsibilities.

but when you step into the coffee shop, your usual one, the one you’ve been going to for years, you freeze.

because sitting right there, hunched over his phone with slight dark circles under his eyes and a half-finished iced americano in front of him, is myung jaehyun.

he doesn’t notice you at first. he just stares blankly at his screen, blinking slow like a loading error. he’s so out of it that when the barista calls out his order, he doesn’t even react.

so, naturally, you decide to make his life harder.

"myung jaehyun," you say, loud enough for half the café to hear.

he flinches like you just smacked him.

"huh?!"

"your coffee," you deadpan, nodding towards the counter.

he follows your gaze, then blinks again. "oh. right."

you snort as he stumbles up to grab it, still looking half-asleep.

when he returns to his seat, you’re still standing there, arms crossed.

"what?" he mumbles.

"this is my coffee shop."

jaehyun squints at you. "…what?"

"i come here every morning," you say, pointing at the barista like they can somehow confirm this.

jaehyun shrugs. "cool. i came here because my app said it had ‘the best morning recharge.’"

you frown. "your app?"

"heartsync," he says, yawning. "you know. the app that ruined our lives?"

your stomach drops. "you’re kidding."

jaehyun pulls out his phone and flashes the notification at you. sure enough.

"rise and shine! 🌞 grab your perfect morning pick-me-up at caffeine fix! ☕✨"

your jaw clenches. you also got a similar notification this morning.

slowly, your eyes meet. "okay," you say. "this is weird."

jaehyun hums, sipping his coffee. "yeah. but whatever. i needed caffeine."

you stare at him, offended. "so you’re just accepting this?"

"i mean, if the app is forcing me to get good coffee, i won’t complain," he says, completely unserious.

you hate that he’s taking this so lightly. you hate that he doesn’t even seem surprised.

you snatch his coffee and take a sip.

"hey!" jaehyun protests.

you smack it back down on the table. "that’s for being weirdly okay with this."

he just glares at you, rubbing his temples. "i just woke up. can you at least let me suffer in peace?"

you sigh, pulling out a chair. "fine. but i’m sitting here now. just to make sure you don’t pass out or something."

jaehyun looks at you, surprised. then he grins. "aww. you care."

you grab a sugar packet and chuck it at his forehead.

after that, you make a decision.

you’re not going to see jaehyun for a while.

not because you mind him. he’s fine. whatever. but because there’s something unnerving about the way this stupid app is leading you to each other like rats in some kind of romantic lab experiment.

so the next morning, you take a different route to work.

and by "different," you mean you add twenty minutes to your commute just to be safe.

you’re feeling pretty good about yourself until you stop by a grocery store later that evening—

and jaehyun is right there, staring at a shelf of instant ramen like it personally betrayed him.

you freeze. he looks up.

silence.

"are you kidding me?" you groan, dragging a hand down your face.

jaehyun just stares at you. "you’re the one who just walked in."

"yeah, but i specifically avoided my usual route just to make sure this wouldn’t happen," you argue.

"okay, well, i was just trying to get food," he says, exasperated. "i ran out of ramen."

you narrow your eyes. "don’t tell me your app told you to come here."

he hesitates.

then he holds up his phone.

"craving a late-night snack? 🤤🍜 don’t worry, we got you! swing by mart express—you never know who you might run into! 😉"

you want to throw something.

instead, you march up to him, grab his phone, and put it on airplane mode.

jaehyun blinks. "…what are you doing."

"fixing our problem," you say, pulling out your own phone and doing the same.

jaehyun stares at you for a moment. then, to your surprise, he actually nods. "okay," he says. "good plan."

you blink. "wait. you’re not gonna fight me on this?"

he shrugs. "nah. the app is getting creepy."

you fold your arms. "so you do think it’s weird?"

"i always thought it was weird," jaehyun says. "i just don’t care as much as you do."

you glare at him, but he’s already turning back to the ramen shelf like this whole conversation didn’t just happen.

unbelievable.

you leave the store together, mostly because your places are in the same general direction.

except five minutes in, jaehyun suddenly stops walking.

"shit," he mutters.

"what?" you ask.

he sighs. "i don’t know how to get home."

you stare at him. "you what."

"i always use my phone for directions!" he says, waving his arms. "but i turned it off, and now i’m lost."

you pinch the bridge of your nose. "you’re unbelievable."

"hey, you told me to turn it off!"

"because we were being manipulated!"

"well, congrats, now i’m gonna die on the street because of you."

"oh my god," you groan. "just—fine. where do you live?"

jaehyun tells you the address. you stare at him.

"jaehyun," you say. "that’s literally ten minutes from my place."

jaehyun blinks. "…oh."

you squint at him. "have you been taking the long way home this entire time?"

he scratches his head. "maybe?"

you don’t know whether to laugh or hit him.

instead, you just sigh and grab his wrist.

"come on," you say, dragging him in the right direction. "i’ll walk you."

jaehyun doesn’t protest.

but when you glance at him, he’s smiling.

you get him home without issue.

when you stop in front of his building, jaehyun turns to you.

"thanks," he says, rubbing his neck. "and, uh. good job fighting the system, i guess."

you snort. "yeah. whatever."

he grins, but there’s something softer in it this time.

"see you around?" he asks.

you hesitate.

then you sigh. "probably."

jaehyun laughs. "probably."

you don’t check your phone again until you’re home.

when you do, you have one new notification.

"aw, how sweet! 🥰 you make such a great team! 💕"

you groan, rolling your eyes. the off the grid mode didn’t work.

“so,” sungho says, dragging out the word like he’s about to be annoying.

you look up from your phone, raising an eyebrow. “so?”

sungho smirks. “how’s myung jaehyun?”

you blink. “why are you asking like that?”

“oh, no reason,” he says, very unconvincingly. “you just seem to see him a lot.”

you scoff. “that’s because this stupid app won’t leave us alone.”

“mhm.”

“it literally forced us to meet up.”

“sure.”

you glare at him. “i don’t like him, if that’s what you’re implying.”

sungho just hums. “never said you did.”

you hate him.

“anyway,” you say, aggressively changing the subject. “when are you free? let’s get dinner or something.”

sungho shrugs. “ask jaehyun. you seem to hang out with him more than me these days.”

you chuck a pillow at his face.

on jaehyun’s end, taesan is just as bad.

“so, you and your soulmate have been seeing each other a lot.”

jaehyun groans. “don’t call them that.”

“why not? isn’t that what the app says?” taesan teases.

jaehyun sighs, tilting his head back against the couch. “we don’t even take it seriously.”

“and yet you still see them outside of what the app says.”

“it just happens,” jaehyun defends.

“right.”

jaehyun doesn’t even bother arguing. it’s taesan. nothing he says will change his mind once he starts being annoying.

instead, he just mutters, “i don’t even like them like that.”

taesan snorts. “yeah. okay.”

jaehyun scowls at him. “i don’t.”

taesan grins. “never said you did.”

jaehyun glares at him.

taesan only laughs.

but the truth is—

neither of you mind seeing each other.

the notification hits your phone at the worst possible time, mid-bite into a sandwich, your mouth too full to properly react as you stare at the bolded text on the screen.

💖 heartsync™ challenge: surprise your match with a meaningful gift! don’t forget! thoughtfulness is key! 🎁

you narrow your eyes. a meaningful gift?

sungho, sitting across from you, glances at your phone and snorts. “oh, this is good. what are you gonna get him?”

you finish chewing before deadpanning, “a rock.”

sungho almost chokes on his drink.

jaehyun gets the same notification while lying on his bed, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. he barely processes it at first, but then—

a meaningful gift.

he groans, rubbing his face. "why is this starting to feel like a real relationship?"

“because it is a real relationship,” taesan says from his desk, not looking up from his laptop.

“it’s not,” jaehyun argues immediately.

“sure,” taesan replies, unconvinced.

jaehyun sighs. “what even counts as meaningful?”

taesan finally looks at him, unimpressed. “you’re the one dating them.”

“fake dating,” jaehyun corrects.

“sure,” taesan repeats.

jaehyun groans again.

you decide to put some effort into it.

not because you care or anything, but because you know jaehyun will definitely try, and you don’t want to look like an asshole in comparison.

you wander through a store, scanning the shelves for something that could count as thoughtful.

jaehyun gives off dog energy, doesn’t he?

you frown. that’s weird to think about. but it’s true. he’s clumsy, a little dumb, but weirdly endearing.

then, you spot it.

a plush keychain. a little golden retriever with floppy ears and big, round eyes.

you hesitate before picking it up.

it’s stupid. but it’s also… kind of perfect.

you buy it before you can second-guess yourself.

jaehyun, meanwhile, is just as lost.

he walks through a store with woonhak, who has been absolutely no help.

“why don’t you just get them a candle?” woonhak suggests.

jaehyun sighs. “that’s not meaningful.”

“depends on the scent.”

“woonhak.”

“fine.” woonhak gestures vaguely. “what do they even like?”

jaehyun pauses.

he… actually knows quite a bit. their favorite color, the snacks they always buy, the way they take their coffee—

he stops. when did he start noticing so much?

woonhak stares at him. “dude, you’re so gone.”

jaehyun immediately shakes his head. “shut up.”

but he grabs something off the shelf anyway, a small coffee cup for the coffee addict that is you.

just because it makes sense. not because he cares.

you agree to meet at the studio.

it’s not that weird, jaehyun spends most of his time there anyway, and you’ve been there before.

when you walk in, however, you’re met with the sight of woonhak sitting at the desk, staring intensely at his laptop screen.

you blink. “you’re here?”

woonhak looks up. “you’re here?”

“uh. yeah?”

jaehyun walks in behind you, closing the door. “we’re doing that stupid challenge.”

woonhak frowns. “what challenge?”

you smirk. “the one that made him tell me about woonbaby.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“YOU TOLD THEM?!” woonhak exclaims, turning to jaehyun with betrayal in his eyes.

jaehyun looks genuinely alarmed. “IT WASN’T MY FAULT! THE APP TOLD THEM.”

woonhak glares. “i don’t care! you let it happen.”

you watch, amused, as they bicker.

eventually, jaehyun gives up with an exasperated sigh. “whatever, let’s just do this.”

you sit down, pulling out the little plush keychain.

jaehyun stares at it.

“what?” you say.

he blinks. “…is that a dog?”

you nod. “it reminded me of you.”

woonhak howls with laughter.

jaehyun scowls. “what does that mean?”

you shrug. “you figure it out.”

woonhak is practically crying. “bro, you’re literally a golden retriever.”

jaehyun grumbles, but you catch the way he turns the keychain over in his hands, quietly pressing at the plush fabric.

then, he clears his throat, pulling out his own gift.

a simple and cute coffee cup, one you can reuse for your favorite coffee shop.

you pause.

you recognize this brand. it’s the one you always buy from.

“…how did you know i like these?” you ask.

jaehyun hesitates. “you mentioned it once.”

you stare at him. that was days ago.

woonhak, clearly sensing something, slowly scoots away.

“uh,” he mutters, “i’ll leave you guys to it.”

he exits the room.

leaving you alone with jaehyun.

you turn back to him, suddenly unsure what to say.

he shifts in his seat. “so. we did the challenge.”

you nod. “yeah.”

there’s a silence.

“…i actually really like this,” jaehyun admits, still holding the plush keychain.

you blink. the silence is loud.

he glances at you, a little sheepish. “i know you probably just picked it because it’s funny, but… i like it.”

you feel something unfamiliar stir in your chest.

“…i like mine too,” you say.

he looks up, a little surprised.

you clear your throat. “it’s thoughtful.”

a small smile tugs at his lips.

“good,” he says.

later that night, you add the keychain to your bag.

and jaehyun clips his onto his.

not that it means anything.

—

💖 heartsync challenge: write a letter to your partner about what this experience meant to you. be honest! no holding back! 💌

you stare at your phone.

your stomach turns.

this is different from the other challenges. those were fun, stupid, even. buying a gift? easy. going on a last-minute date? frustrating but manageable.

but this?

you put your phone down and ignore it.

jaehyun, on the other hand, groans dramatically and flops onto his bed.

taesan and woonhak glance at each other.

“what now?” taesan asks.

jaehyun lifts his phone, showing them the notification.

woonhak snorts. “damn. that’s deep.”

“yeah,” jaehyun mutters. “stupid app.”

taesan raises a brow. “you’re actually gonna do it?”

jaehyun pauses. “...it’s just a challenge.”

woonhak smirks. “uh-huh.”

jaehyun rolls onto his stomach, hiding his face.

taesan leans back in his chair. “so… what has this experience meant to you?”

jaehyun groans into his pillow.

woonhak cackles. “this is hilarious.”

jaehyun throws a pillow at him.

you don’t write the letter.

you could.

but you don’t.

because writing it down makes it real. and you don’t want to think about what this actually means.

so, you pretend it doesn’t exist.

the app can’t force you, right?

right.

jaehyun stares at the blank page in front of him.

just write something dumb and get it over with.

but when he tries to start, nothing feels right.

so, he sighs, taps his pen against the desk, and just… writes what comes naturally.

woonhak picks up the folded letter before jaehyun can stop him.

jaehyun nearly tackles him.

“GIVE IT BACK.”

woonhak dances out of reach, grinning. “ooooh, what’s this?”

“IT’S NOTHING.”

taesan, completely unbothered, takes a sip of his drink. “so you did write one.”

jaehyun glares. “it’s just a stupid challenge.”

woonhak dodges another grab. “damn, you really poured your heart into this, huh?”

jaehyun huffs. “i hate both of you.”

woonhak finally tosses it back, laughing.

jaehyun stuffs it into his bag, scowling.

“…so when are you giving it to them?” taesan asks.

jaehyun freezes.

“uh.”

“…you are giving it to them, right?” woonhak says, amused.

jaehyun looks away. “i don’t know.”

“…bro.”

“i just—” jaehyun sighs. “what if they don’t care?”

woonhak and taesan exchange a look.

then, woonhak shrugs. “i guess you’ll find out.”

you don’t ask if jaehyun wrote his letter.

you don’t want to know.

because if he did, then you’d have to think about why you didn’t.

when jaehyun sees you next, he almost gives it to you.

almost.

but then he sees the way you act like nothing is different.

so, he keeps it in his bag.

not that it matters.

—

💖 heartsync update: your 30-day trial is almost over! it’s time for your final compatibility assessment!

will you renew? yes or no? make your choice carefully! 😘

your thumb hovers over the screen.

your chest feels tight.

final compatibility assessment.

it’s just a stupid button. just a choice.

but it feels heavier than that.

yes or no. stay or leave.

do you want this to continue?

and that’s the problem, isn’t it?

because you do. but you also don’t.

or rather, you can’t.

if you say yes, what does that mean? that the app was right? that this was real? that you’re willing to risk whatever this has become?

that’s too much.

that’s terrifying.

so, instead of thinking, instead of wondering, instead of feeling—

you press no.

and just like that, it’s over.

jaehyun gets the notification when he’s halfway to the café.

he’d planned to meet you there, casually slipping you the letter like it wasn’t a big deal. but then—

💔 heartsync update: your trial has ended. thanks for participating! your match has chosen not to renew. we’ve removed them from your contacts. no hard feelings! 💕

he stops walking.

stares at the screen.

his stomach sinks.

his heart—

no renewal.

he scrolls through his messages, but your contact is gone. every conversation, every stupid joke, every awkward late-night text—erased.

like you were never there at all.

like he imagined it.

like it meant nothing.

he swallows.

turns on his heel.

walks away.

when you check your phone again, it’s like jaehyun never existed.

your chat history? gone.

your notifications? empty.

you type his name into your contacts. nothing.

it feels like a punch to the stomach. you should’ve expected this. you did expect this.

but it still hurts.

did he pick no, too?

…or did you delete something that he actually wanted?

you close your phone.

this is for the best.

you keep telling yourself that. so why doesn’t it feel true?

jaehyun stares at the letter in his hands.

it’s stupid.

he shouldn’t care.

but he does. and that pisses him off.

woonhak notices. “what’s up with you?”

jaehyun doesn’t answer.

taesan glances over. “hey. you good?”

jaehyun laughs, but it’s hollow. “yeah.”

woonhak raises a brow.

jaehyun crumples the letter in his fist.

“i just wasted my time, that’s all.”

he gets up.

leaves before they can ask anything else.

you tell sungho and kazuha that it’s fine.

that you’re fine.

sungho doesn’t buy it. “so, you just… ended it?”

you shrug. “it was gonna end anyway.”

kazuha frowns. “but… did you want it to?”

you open your mouth. hesitate.

sungho sighs. “you’re an idiot.”

you glare. “thanks.”

“i’m serious. if you actually liked him—”

“i don’t.”

“…right,” kazuha says, unconvinced.

sungho crosses his arms. “you know, he could’ve said yes.”

you look away.

because that thought is the worst one of all.

jaehyun avoids the café.

he avoids the places he might see you.

he pretends it doesn’t sting.

but when he’s alone, when the studio is quiet, when there’s nothing left to distract him.

he pulls out the letter.

the one you’ll never read.

and he wonders if he had given it to you, would it have made a difference?

—

jaehyun is not the kind of guy who does this.

he’s not the type to chase after people. he doesn’t do big confrontations. he doesn’t throw himself into situations where his feelings are laid bare, where rejection is a very real possibility.

but here he is.

sitting in a café across from woonhak, gripping a coffee cup like it’s a lifeline, his foot tapping against the floor so fast it’s a miracle the ground isn’t shaking.

woonhak, for his part, is staring at him like he’s experiencing secondhand embarrassment in real time.

“so… let me get this straight,” woonhak says, setting his drink down. “you got matched with someone on a dating app. spent a whole month with them. actually liked them. and now, instead of talking to them like a normal person, you’re here, asking me to help you find them?”

jaehyun scowls. “when you say it like that, it sounds weird.”

woonhak leans back in his chair. “because it is weird.”

jaehyun groans, running a hand through his hair. “i just—” he hesitates, voice quieter. “they pressed no.”

woonhak’s eyebrows lift.

jaehyun clenches his jaw. “they chose to end it.”

woonhak watches him for a moment. then, slowly, he folds his arms.

“so? that’s it? you’re just gonna let the app decide how this ends?”

jaehyun exhales sharply. “no.”

“good.” woonhak cracks his knuckles. “let’s find them.”

jaehyun blinks. “wait, you’re actually helping?”

woonhak smirks. “are you kidding? this is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes, but his heart is beating a little faster now.

step one: figure out where you work.

woonhak, surprisingly, is really good at this. almost too good.

“didn’t you mention that sungho is their friend?” he asks, scrolling through his phone.

jaehyun blinks. “uh. yeah?”

woonhak hums. “i think i saw something on his page last week. something about dropping off lunch at their job.”

jaehyun leans over. “you can find that?”

“duh. i have skills.”

jaehyun doesn’t question it.

a few minutes later, woonhak tilts his screen toward jaehyun. “bingo. looks like they work at that bookstore near the subway station.”

jaehyun’s stomach twists.

this is actually happening.

woonhak smirks. “you ready?”

jaehyun doesn’t answer. just grabs his jacket and walks out the door.

the bookstore is quiet when jaehyun steps inside.

the warm scent of paper and ink fills the air. soft lighting casts golden hues against the wooden bookshelves. the faint sound of pages turning and the occasional murmur of conversation drifts through the space.

he scans the store, heart hammering.

there.

you’re stacking books near the back, moving with the easy rhythm of someone who’s done this a hundred times.

jaehyun’s feet move before he can think.

you don’t notice him at first.

but then you glance up.

your hands still. your eyes widen.

“…jaehyun?”

his throat is dry. he almost forgets why he’s here.

almost.

“you really didn’t care, huh?”

your expression falters. “what?”

jaehyun exhales sharply. “you didn’t even hesitate. you just—” he gestures vaguely, frustration bleeding into his voice. “you pressed no.”

you swallow. “i—”

jaehyun reaches into his pocket.

pulls out a crumpled piece of paper.

your breath catches.

“you didn’t read mine,” jaehyun says.

his voice is quieter now. rough around the edges.

you stare at the letter.

the ink is smudged. the paper is creased, worn like he’s been holding onto it for days.

like he was going to give it to you, like he wanted to stay.

your stomach twists.

“jaehyun.”

he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “i just don’t get it.”

his voice cracks on the last word.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t know how to fix this.

but maybe… maybe it’s not too late.

silence stretches between you.

you don’t look away from the letter.

jaehyun doesn’t either.

there’s a tension in the air, thick and heavy. you try to swallow it down, but it doesn’t go away.

finally, jaehyun exhales.

he shoves a hand into his jacket pocket, gaze dropping to the floor. “you don’t have to say anything,” he mutters. “i just—i needed you to know.”

your throat is tight. your fingers twitch at your sides.

you didn’t read mine.

he said it so simply, like it wasn’t the most painful realization of all. because you should have.

you should have waited.

you should have listened.

but you were afraid.

afraid that reading it would mean accepting something real. afraid that pressing yes would mean opening yourself up to something you weren’t sure you could handle.

but now, looking at him, his tense shoulders, his furrowed brows, the way his hands grip the letter like it’s the only thing holding him together. he’s so cute.

you wonder if you made the wrong choice.

you take a shaky breath. “jaehyun…”

he lifts his gaze.

your fingers brush against the edge of the letter. hesitating.

you take it.

jaehyun stills.

you smooth it out carefully, trying not to focus on the places where the ink has bled.

you glance up. “can i—?”

jaehyun nods, once.

so you read.

jaehyun’s letter is messy.

his handwriting is uneven, like he kept pausing, rewriting, second-guessing.

but the words—

the words hit you like a punch to the chest.

it’s not poetic. not perfectly structured.

but it’s real.

and for some reason, that makes it hurt even more.

hey. i don’t really know what to say, which is probably a bad start to a letter. i don’t know what i was expecting when i signed up for this. definitely not this. i thought it’d be a joke. just something dumb i’d try and then delete. but then, somehow, it was you. and i don’t know how that happened, but i’m not really mad about it. it was weird at first. and sometimes it still is. but somewhere along the way, i stopped thinking about it like an “experiment” or a “trial.” it just became normal. i don’t know if that means anything. but i think i like this. i think i like… you. not that it matters. but yeah. that’s it. - jaehyun.

you can tell when he started to get frustrated. some sentences trail off, like he wasn’t sure how to end them. some are underlined, like he wanted to make sure you understood.

but the part that makes your breath catch, the part that makes your fingers tighten around the page—

is near the end.

"i don’t know if that means anything. but i think i like this. i think i like… you."

you stare at the words.

your hands shake.

your vision blurs.

you blink rapidly, forcing yourself to look up.

jaehyun is watching you, expression unreadable.

you open your mouth. but no words come out.

so you do the only thing you can.

you fold the letter carefully. tuck it into your pocket.

and whisper, “i think i made a mistake.”

jaehyun exhales.

his lips press into a thin line.

“yeah,” he says softly. “i think so, too.”

it should be easier than this.

it should be simple. if you like someone, you tell them. if you want to stay, you stay.

but it’s never that easy, is it?

because standing here, in the quiet of the bookstore, with jaehyun staring at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, it feels impossible to say what you want to say.

your heart is in your throat.

your fingers tighten around the crumpled letter in your pocket.

“so,” jaehyun says, voice quiet. “what now?”

you don’t know.

but you do know one thing:

you don’t want to walk away again.

you meet his gaze.

hesitate.

“i think i liked you before i even realized.”

jaehyun’s breath catches.

your chest feels tight.

you swallow, forcing yourself to keep going.

“i just… i didn’t want to admit it,” you say, voice softer now. “because if i did, then it wouldn’t be because of the app. it wouldn’t be because of some stupid algorithm. it would just be me.”

you take a shaky breath.

“and that scared me.”

jaehyun exhales sharply.

he’s quiet for a long moment, and just when you think he’s going to say something,

he takes a step closer.

then another.

your heart stutters.

he stops just a few inches away.

when he speaks, his voice is steadier than before.

“i don’t care what the app says,” he murmurs.

his gaze is unwavering.

“i like you.”

your stomach flips.

your fingers twitch at your sides.

you want to say something.

but before you can, jaehyun suddenly exhales, dragging a hand down his face.

“god, that was so embarrassing,” he groans. “i can’t believe i actually said that out loud.”

you blink.

a laugh bursts out of you, unexpected and unfiltered.

jaehyun groans again, covering his face. “no, don’t laugh. i was trying to be cool.”

“cool?” you wheeze. “you?”

he glares at you from between his fingers. “i take it back. i don’t like you.”

you grin. “too late.”

jaehyun groans dramatically, but there’s no real frustration in it.

just warmth. just relief.

and when your laughter fades, when the bookstore falls quiet again—

he looks at you. and you look back.

something shifts.

something settles.

and just like that—

it doesn’t feel so impossible anymore.

later, at a coffee shop.

“so,” you say, stirring your drink. “was any of it real?”

jaehyun blinks. “huh?”

“the app,” you clarify. “the ‘fated’ moments. was any of it real?”

jaehyun thinks about it.

“well.” he tilts his head. “the coffee shop thing was definitely on purpose.”

you nod. “and the grocery store?”

“i think you just have bad luck.”

“excuse me?”

jaehyun shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “i mean, statistically speaking, you were bound to run into me eventually.”

you narrow your eyes. “statistically speaking, i should throw my drink at you.”

jaehyun grins. “you could. but then you’d have to buy me another one.”

you stare at him for a long moment.

then you sigh, leaning back in your chair.

“so… no magic algorithm,” you murmur.

“no magic algorithm,” jaehyun agrees.

it’s strange.

you spent so much time wondering if any of it was real, if the app had manipulated you, if the connection was artificial, if your feelings were manufactured.

but now, sitting here, watching jaehyun poke at the ice in his drink with his straw, you realize something.

you don’t care.

because maybe the app pushed you together. maybe it forced you into situations that you wouldn’t have chosen otherwise.

but the moments you shared?

the conversations, the laughter, the quiet nights at the studio—

that was real. and that’s enough.

and that's something you like the sound of.

—

tysm for reading :>

bnd taglist : @bxnedo

perm taglist : @s0shroe @minoouz @the0p @mon2sunjinsuver

[archaardvarkarchive]

Hm, yeah. Worth noting, there’s a difference between being turned on by the abstract idea of something (unless OP has actually participated in knifeplay, it is simply not the same as actually experiencing it, let alone being IN this era of Japan where you’ve probably directly witnessed who knows how many people get chopped up, and are seeing that fate dangled in front of you for a split second) that isn’t real, versus being IN that meadow.

This poor guy most likely actually did have something resembling a near-death experience. Cut him a little slack.

Although we’re supposed to believe that modern-style kinks are a thing in this fanciful recounting of history, (was that a thing?) I’m also kind of dubious that that sort of interaction would happen? Like, without the subculture of bdsm behind a person, a safe exploration of all that stuff, would someone spontaneously be into it, or would they just be scared shitless?

And this analysis of Mizu is something that a lot of the commenters could stand to read.

@luckypuppyshake @are-you-reddie @gideongaye @cornichonmord @cocaine-pizza @mars2cupid @hyperewok1 @catra-taj @raeyhem

I don’t know if ‘objectification’ necessarily fits here, but seeing just the external badassery and not thinking about what’s going on inside her head …

EDIT: let’s call it pseudo-objectification, because it’s not like you’re devaluing her internal experience, it’s just you’re perceiving her as a desirable goal.

So in the strictest sense, could be about the physical, sure, but it’s not what the term objectification is going for or getting at.

If my wife handed me my ass in combat and then kissed me after pointing a katana at my throat, I would recognize the gesture as the peak of romance it is and would fall even more in love with her. Rip to that guy Mizu married for like a year but I'm different.

[calcifiedunderland]

Aka I lost Mydei’s banner and I’m devastated so here’s some headcanons I thought of 😄😭

Consider a Modern!AU, where Mydei is Kremnos’ crown prince who sneaks out of the palace to get away from duties…

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who’s the Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos and has a reputation of being hot-headed. He has a sharp tongue and sharper wit, and routinely clashes words with his father and his council about civil affairs.

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who may be rough around the edges, but could be occasionally found looking after the staff’s children fondly. He’d gruffly say that he was merely making sure they stay out of trouble, but the children’s shining eyes and bright smiles say a different, softer story.

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who has a motorcycle on standby whenever he and his father, King Eurypon, get into arguments. No one dares to stop him when he angrily storms out of the castle to go out.

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who revs the motorcycle engine loud into the night. So loud, that passerby’s scoff at the local foolish youngster, not knowing they scorn the country’s Crown Prince. He revels in it.

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who decides he has enough after a particularly rough day. He decides to go to a tattoo parlor overlooking a Farmers Market and mingle with his people.

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who dons simple attire (a black outfit with bronze graphic designs) to not be recognized. Though, regardless if he gets recognized, he’ll never give up the bronze claw-like rings he wears on his fingers or the red eye makeup he wears.

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who was getting his trademark red tattoo in a shop next to a farmers market, and spots you outside the tattoo parlor.

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who finds you gazing at the fresh, bright red pomegranates and makes a choice on a whim. “This one,” he finds himself picking up one of the ripe, round, crimson fruits, “this one’s good.”

Modern!Prince Mydeimos who is caught off guard by your easy smile and bright eyes. He finds his throat go dry when you ask for his name, and tries frantically to remember himself.

“I am Mydei-“ his voice catches, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be sneaking out but finding that you’re a little too easy to chat with. Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice. “Mydei,” you say with a smile, “I like that name.”

Modern!Mydei who shirks his duties for the rest of the day to amble around the market with you. He ends up buying Golden Hotcakes for the both of you later, and thinks your eyes sparkle nicely in the setting sun.

Modern!Mydei who recalls that there is no word for “romance” in the Kremnoan language, but also realizes there’s a lack of other words. Like “cute.”

Modern!Mydei who bids you a reluctant goodbye, but as he swings his legs over his motorcycle, sees you wave shyly. “See you next week?” You ask, smiling up at him.

Modern!Mydei who now has someone to look forward to whenever he wants to sneak out of the palace.

—

Thanks for reading!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are forever appreciated. Hope you enjoyed~

~Xoxo calci 😘

[fireinmoonshot]

home safe | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquín's friends call you to come and pick him up after a night out at the bar where he can't stop talking about you. Warnings: Mentions of drinking, being drunk and alcohol. Word Count: 1.5k A/N: I saw a TikTok where a golden retriever boyfriend got so excited when he saw his girlfriend turn up at the bar and my first thought was 'That's so Joaquín' so here this is 😂 Enjoy 💗

Making the most of a rare Friday night alone, you’re about to crack open a new tub of ice cream when your phone buzzes on the counter beside you. With a sigh, you set down the spoon you’d been planning on digging into the ice cream with, and pick up your phone to read the message.

You assume that it’s going to be from Joaquin. He’d gone out to attend the Bachelor Party of one of his best friends, leaving you home alone. He hated to go – he’d said at least twenty times that he wished you could come with him, but he understood that you needed time apart and that it was crucial to a healthy relationship to do things alone. But regardless, he always felt like something was missing when you weren’t there.

He’d also assured you that when he was ready to come home, he’d send you a text so that you could come and pick him up. He’d promised he wouldn’t stay too late, knowing that you would want to try and get a good night sleep as usual and he didn’t want you to have to go to bed without him. With Joaquin, you knew you could trust his word on that.

As you look at your phone, though, you’re surprised to see that the message isn’t from Joaquin, but from Eddie, one of his friends who was also attending the Bachelor Party.

Joaquin is ready when you are… seriously… save us…

You laugh a little as you read his message and quickly type out a reply. I’m almost tempted to leave you guys to deal with him for even longer. But I’ll head out shortly :) 

A little disappointed, you move to put the ice cream back in the freezer. It was going to have to wait until another night now. There’s only one reason why Eddie would be texting you – Joaquin had had too many drinks and was being his usual drunken self, somehow more extroverted than he already was. If anyone thought Joaquin couldn’t shut up when he was sober, then they’d never seen him drunk.

It doesn’t take you too long to get your things together and leave the house. You’ve changed out of your comfy clothes and put on something semi-presentable, knowing you’ll likely have to go inside the bar to bring your boyfriend out, and are in the car on your way towards the bar not long after. 

You send Eddie a text as you walk towards the bar. Whereabouts are you guys?

He surprisingly doesn’t take too long to reply. I’ll come to the front door and get you so you don’t get lost. It’s pretty packed in here. You’d probably hear us before you saw us.

You snort at his message, knowing it’s true, and head into the bar. Eddie is right – the bar is bustling, as expected for a Friday night. There are people everywhere, music pumping through the speakers and you wonder how anyone could have an enjoyable time here without wearing some pretty serious earplugs.

Someone calls out your name and you turn to see Eddie, standing not too far away from you. He beckons you over with a smile and then greets you with a quick hug. All of Joaquin’s friends love you and consider you as much of a friend to them as he is.

“Thanks for coming so fast,” Eddie says as the two of you start to walk back to where he’d come from. “Joaquin… he seriously has not shut up about you since we got here. You’d think that he was the one getting married instead of Mateo.”

You smile to yourself at the thought. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, we’re not,” you say, amused. “I’m sure that it’s just the alcohol though. You and I both know how he gets.”

Eddie laughs. “He hasn’t even had that much to drink compared to some of us.”

As you get closer towards the table where the rest of the group are, you can hear their laughter and loud voices just as Eddie had said. You hear Joaquin’s laugh and instantly smile as you finally lay eyes on him. His cheeks are a little flushed from the alcohol and the smile on his face sets butterflies off in your stomach. 

You can see when he spots you in the crowd just from the way his eyes light up. His jaw drops and then morphs into a grin that takes over his entire face. “Angel!” Joaquin’s voice is loud, impressively so. Despite the loud music, several people turn their heads to look at him.

Before you can even take one more step closer to him, Joaquin is up and away from the booth, running towards you and barrelling straight into you. He picks you up, spinning you around in a circle as you laugh. You’re pretty sure he’s never been happier to see you.

“Angel, what are you doing here?” He exclaims, setting you down on the ground again. 

You laugh, resting your arms over his shoulders. “I was requested to come and pick you up,” you say, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “Apparently my boyfriend couldn’t stop talking about me? And I’m pretty sure Mateo is the one who’s meant to be talking about his girlfriend all night instead of you, baby.”

Joaquin looks over his shoulder at his friends. “You guys called in reinforcement?” He says, pretending to be shocked as if he’s not extremely happy to see you. “Listen, Mateo has been talking plenty about his soon to be wife so I figured it was only fair I add in my share.”

Over at the booth, you hear Mateo snort. “I’ve heard you say your girl’s name so many more times than I’ve said mine, Joaquin,” he calls. “Thanks for coming to save us, by the way. We love spending time with your man but I think he loves you more.” His voice is amused.

“You’re so welcome,” you call back. 

Joaquin moves to stand beside you, but he still wraps an arm around your waist, becoming his touchy self again now that you’re here. You’re surprised to see that he isn’t actually as drunk as you had been expecting. Clearly, though, the few drinks he had consumed had made him insufferable enough to his friends.

“Are you guys kicking me out or something?” Joaquin says beside you, pouting a little as he looks over at his friends. “Man, I thought we were having a good night. It’s not even midnight yet!” 

Not that he’s disappointed at the fact that this means he can go home and spend the rest of the night curled up in bed with you… in fact, out of the two scenarios that one is definitely the better sounding one.

“Nah, bro,” Eddie shakes his head. “I’m heading out too, so are a few of us. I just got a text from my girl and she’s waiting for me in the car outside. I promised her I wouldn’t stay out too late. She finds it harder to sleep without me now that she’s pregnant, apparently.”

The simple confirmation that Joaquin isn’t the only one leaving is enough to perk his mood right back up. He leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’m just gonna go say bye to the guys and then we can go.” 

You nod, watching him as he heads over to say his goodbyes to everyone and send his well wishes to Mateo, since it’s the last time he’s going to see him before the wedding. It doesn’t take long, though, and soon enough he’s walking back over to you and taking your hand in his. All the boys yell their goodbyes to you as Joaquin leads you out of the bar.

Joaquin keeps hold of your hand while you leave the packed bar. He doesn’t let go even when you’re safely outside, happily trailing along behind you as you lead him over to where your car is parked.

“You know, when I saw you walk in tonight I was a little distracted,” Joaquin says as you stop beside the car and reach into your bag to get your keys out. “Mateo had just said somethin’ real funny and then I looked over and saw you and at first, I thought it couldn’t be you cause I knew you were at home. I just saw you and thought ‘Damn, that girl looks so much like my beautiful girlfriend.’”

“And then you realised it was me and basically jumped on me,” You chuckle, amused as you find the keys and unlock the car.

Joaquin places a hand on your hip. “Can you blame me for that, angel?”

You turn around and lean in to gently peck him on the lips. “I can’t,” you hum. “Now come on, it’s time to get you home and sober you up a bit.”

He smiles and leans in to open the car door for you. He might be a little drunk but he’s still a gentleman who can open the car door for his girlfriend. Once he’s inside, he rests a hand on your thigh as you pull away from the curb and head for home.

“Thanks for coming to get me, angel. Even if it kinda ruined your night alone.”

You glance over at him briefly to give him a reassuring smile. “Knowing that you’re coming home safe matters more to me than spending the rest of my night alone, baby.” 

[pbaz7]

FINDING PEACE IN YOU: PART 1

paige x azzi

word count: 11.7k

A/N: I’m back!!! This is one of my first AU and it got me excited to write again! I don’t even know how to describe it honestly 😭 just read it and find out. Let me know what you think please 🤭

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Azzi Fudd stood at the counter of the small, semi-packed café in Dallas, Texas, holding her warm cup of coffee in her hand. Normally, the café was a quiet, peaceful retreat—just the perfect place for a quick moment of solitude before heading to her office for the day. But today? The usual cozy hum of conversation and soft music turned into a buzz of chatter, and for some reason, there were more people milling about than she was used to. Some sat with their drinks, but there were others who didn’t seem to have a purpose, simply standing around, scanning the space. It felt like the usual sereneness had been replaced with a subtle restlessness in the air.

Azzi shook the thought from her mind. She’d come here for one thing: a much-needed pick me up with a cup of coffee. She took a sip, the warmth swirling in her chest, but as she turned toward an empty corner, a sudden bump jolted her from her thoughts.

She looked down to find herself toe-to-toe with a tiny figure.

The little boy stood there, almost too small to notice in the midst of all the bustling customers. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to sparkle anytime the sunlight hit them, his blonde hair a soft, messy assortment of wavy curls. There was something about him—something about how his wide-eyed gaze was a mix of innocent curiosity and complete calmness.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Azzi murmured, stepping back to avoid the awkwardness of the accidental bump. She gave him a gentle smile, but before she could ask if he was alright, the boy softly mumbled, “Sorry.” Then he turned his attention back to the cafe around him, his focus unbroken as he looked around.

Azzi tilted her head slightly. She couldn’t help but smile at how quietly composed he seemed. Kneeling down to his level, she knelt to make eye contact, her voice soft but warm to not scare him. “Do you need help, sweetie?”

The boy paused, his brows furrowing ever so slightly as if he was pondering the question carefully. “Maybe,” he said after a moment.

Azzi couldn’t help but chuckle at the response. “Maybe? That’s a first,” she teased gently. She watched him closely, noting the confidence in his small but steady posture.

The boy shifted his gaze, his blue eyes scanning the café again with all of the seriousness he could muster. Finally, he turned toward Azzi. “Ma says I’m not posed to talk to strangers,” he said. Pausing for a second before adding, “But you’re pretty.”

Azzi’s smile widened at the compliment. “Well, thank you, handsome,” she replied. “Where’s your mom?”

The boy looked around again, his small body twisting in place as he searched the area. His little shoulders sagged as he gave a shrug, his eyes lowering briefly, unsure what to do next.

Azzi’s heart melted at the sight. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

The boy’s eyes brightened at the question, a sudden surge of confidence rising in his small frame. “Lukas Drew Bueckers,” he said, puffing out his chest with a quiet pride. He then added, as though to clarify a very important piece of information, “Lukas with a K.”

Azzi laughed softly at his enthusiasm. “Well, Lukas with a K, can I help you find your mom?”

The boy studied her for a moment, his blue eyes scanning her face carefully. Weighing his options. After a second, he nodded, as if deciding she was trustworthy. “Sure,” he said simply.

Azzi smiled and without a second thought she carefully scooped him up into her arms.

She felt Lukas shift slightly in her arms, his small body twisting as he scanned the room with fresh determination. His earlier uncertainty had disappeared, replaced by a quiet confidence that Azzi couldn’t help but admire for someone his age. As she looked at him, she saw his blue eyes brighten, and before she could ask him about it, the boy’s small hand shot out.

Azzi’s gaze trailed the direction of his tiny finger. Across the cafe, standing near a group of young girls, was a tall blonde woman who immediately caught Azzi’s attention. She looked calm, almost serene, as if she had mastered the art of existing in a crowded space without ever being overwhelmed by it. Her posture was straight, her movements calculated as she offered polite smiles to the people around her giving each one of them just the right amount of attention. But there was something else in her gaze—something more intentional behind her warm expression. Azzi could see that, despite the casual grace she radiated, the woman was intentionally scanning the room in between bursts of eye contact.

The way the woman held herself reminded Azzi of the little boy she had in her arms. They both seemed to exude that same stillness, that calm poise. Like they were in their own little bubble amidst the chaos of the café.

Azzi squinted slightly, her eyes narrowing in on the blonde. There was something vaguely familiar about her, a recognition that lingered just out of reach, but Azzi couldn’t place it because she was a little too far to make out the full details of her face.

Then, Lukas’s soft voice broke her thoughts. “That’s my ma,” he said proudly, his chest puffing out with a sense of triumph.

Azzi’s eyes shifted back to the woman. Her calm demeanor was still in place as she subtly swept her gaze across the room again, her eyes eventually landing on Lukas and holding there for just a moment longer than necessary. She didn’t rush or react too visibly—she simply locked eyes with him, a small flicker of relief in her expression.

Azzi adjusted him in her arms, the little boy now content to rest against her with a gentle but firm grip. “I think we found her, huh?”

Lukas nodded, his blue eyes fixed on his mom as he let out a small sigh of relief.

Azzi’s gaze lingered on the blonde woman a little longer than she’d intended. There was something magnetic about her, something familiar yet entirely unknown. As Azzi observed her, the woman’s gaze shifted again, this time locking onto hers with an intensity that made Azzi’s heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just a casual glance—it felt like a quiet assessment. As if the blonde was calculating who this woman was with her son in her arms. Azzi’s breath caught in her chest, feeling the weight of that scrutiny, and for a brief second, she wondered what the woman was thinking.

But then, as quickly as it began, the assessment seemed to end. The blonde’s expression softened, a small smirk tugging at her lips. The moment passed, and she effortlessly shifted her attention back to the person in front of her, posing for a picture with a polite smile and signing her autograph.

Azzi gently adjusted Lukas in her arms as she began making her way over to the blonde.

As Azzi approached and the details became a little more defined it clicked in her mind who the woman was. The blonde paused mid-laugh, her attention shifting to her son who was now in front of her.

Lukas, known to be a little enthusiastic, reached his small arms toward his mother, his face lighting up when she caught him effortlessly despite him basically launching his body at her.

“Where’d you run off to, buddy?” the blonde asked with a soft laugh as she organized some of the messy waves of curls on the boy's head.

Lukas looked up at her with wide eyes, his face scrunched in concentration as he tried to explain his logic. “I was standing right there,” he began, his words spilling out in his three, almost-four-year-old cadence. “But then a girl tried to take a picture with you, and she almost ran me over! She dropped her chocolate, so I went to get her napkins.”

The blonde smiled at his story with an affectionate glint in her eyes. “Being a gentleman, huh?” she teased, clearly proud of her son’s instincts.

Lukas beamed at the praise, nodding vigorously. “Yup!”

Before Azzi could react, Lukas was off again, his little mouth running a mile a minute as he continued, “And then I bumped into this nice ma’am, but I wasn’t gonna talk to strangers ‘cause you know Ma you always say I shouldn’t, but she was really pretty, so I did anyway. And then she helped me find you!” Once he was done he shrugged casually, as if the sequence of events was a regular part of his day.

Azzi couldn’t help but smile at the way he rambled, completely unfazed by the world around him, his innocence and honesty shining through in his words. Paige, for her part, seemed entirely accustomed to this stream-of-consciousness storytelling, her eyes twinkling as she chuckled softly, the lines around her eyes deepening as she smiled at him.

“Well, alright, Casanova,” Paige said with a playful tone, her voice soft but still authoritative. “Go sit right there where I can see you and don’t move.” She pointed toward a chair directly next to where she was standing, just a few steps away, so Lukas wouldn’t be out of her sight again.

Lukas nodded, his eyes wide with excitement at the notion of getting to sit in such a grown-up chair. “Okay!” he said, already wiggling in his mom’s arms as she gently set him down.

Azzi couldn’t help but chuckle as she watched the little boy plop himself into the seat with a small flourish, trying to act like a big kid, yet still so full of that innocent wonder. She turned her gaze back to the blonde woman, who was already looking at her.

The blonde licked her lips, a subtle gesture, before she spoke. “Thank you for helping out the ladies' man over there,” she said, her voice smooth. She reached her hand out, a slight smirk forming on her lips—not one of arrogance, but a kind of self-assuredness that made it clear she knew exactly how to speak to women. “I’m Paige,” she added, her tone warm and inviting.

Azzi didn’t immediately respond with her name. Instead she simply reached out to shake Paige’s hand, a small flicker of amusement crossing her face when she felt Paige’s thumb brush against her knuckles. The touch was subtle, Azzi pulled away with a quiet confidence that Paige wasn’t used to encountering.

With a small smile, Azzi said, “I know who you are.”

Paige’s smirk deepened, her eyes flashing with curiosity. “Yeah?”

Azzi chuckled softly. “Kind of hard not to know who the face of the Wings is when you live in Dallas.”

Paige hummed in acknowledgment, not surprised but seemingly entertained. Azzi glanced around the café, her eyes noticing the small crowd still lingering near Paige and watching her conversation subtly.

“So, I take it you’re the reason my coffee run was so hectic today?”

Paige chuckled softly. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. “Someone posted about me being here before I could leave, and Casanova over there was taking his sweet time eating his breakfast muffin.”

Azzi laughed, the image of the little boy sitting there eating his food slowly while the world swirled around him. “I’m happy I could help,” she said, her voice warm but with a hint of finality, as though the conversation was wrapping up.

But just as Azzi turned to walk away, she felt a light, unexpected touch at her elbow. Paige’s fingers brushed against her skin, stopping her from walking away. The confident smirk never left her face, only now it seemed a little more certain.

“Lemme take you out,” Paige said smoothly, her blue eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “You know, to thank you.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow at that, clearly intrigued but also well aware of the kind of woman Paige was simply by how she carried herself. There was something about her—something that spoke volumes without her needing to say much. Azzi could tell that she was used to getting what she wanted with women, and something about that made Azzi want to make her work for it just a little more.

“Take me out, huh?” Azzi’s voice was laced with amusement, her lips curving into a slight smile.

Paige, unphased, nodded. “Yeah...you know, to properly thank you.”

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly as she gave Paige a once-over. Paige was very attractive, no denying that. Her tall frame, the way she carried herself, and that self-assured smile—it was all part of the appeal. But Azzi wasn’t about to give in that easily. She knew what Paige was implying, and while one night stands wasn’t Azzi’s thing, she found herself intrigued in a different way. She met Paige’s eyes, a spark of something unspoken passing between them.

“Coffee,” Azzi said simply.

Paige blinked, momentarily taken aback, though she hid it quickly. “Coffee?” she echoed, as if trying to process what Azzi had just suggested.

Azzi’s grin grew, a glimmer of challenge in her gaze. “Coffee,” she confirmed, her voice steady, eyes locked on Paige’s.

Paige’s lips twitched, her smirk softening into something a little more genuine, almost intrigued. She didn’t push it further. Instead, she let out a small surprised laugh.

“Alright…coffee it is,” Paige said, her voice smooth but with a quiet acknowledgment of the unusual challenge Azzi had just thrown her way.

Azzi, sensing that subtle shift in Paige’s gaze—something that told her she wasn't going to be as easy as Paige was used to—smiled to herself. She reached into her wallet, fingers grazing over the smooth surface of a business card, pulling it out. Flipping it over, she grabbed a pen from the counter and scribbled down her personal number.

Without a word, she handed the card to Paige, her fingers brushing against hers just for a moment. "You can text me," Azzi said.

Azzi turned to walk away, her body already angled toward the door when Paige’s voice called out, stopping her in her tracks.

“You never told me your name.”

Azzi paused for a brief second. A slight smirk danced on her lips, playful and a little enigmatic. She didn’t turn back to face Paige fully. Instead, with a casual motion, pointed at the card still resting in Paige’s hand. Without another word, she walked away.

Paige stood there, her brow furrowing in confusion for just a heartbeat, before she looked down at the card in her hand. Her fingers flipped it over, and her eyes scanned the text on the front.

"Azzi Fudd, DO – Private Sports Medicine Physician."

A small, amused smile spread across Paige’s face.

Azzi Fudd.

Paige’s smile deepened, a quiet breathy laugh slipping past her lips as she looked up, her gaze scanning the café for the woman who had already disappeared into the crowd. There was something about the way Azzi handled the whole situation that was a little out of Paige’s typical experience.

Shaking her head slightly, a smile still still tugging at the corners of her lips. She slipped the card into her pocket.

Paige turned back around to check on Lukas, who was sitting in the chair, deep in concentration, scribbling away at something on a piece of paper. Paige couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself, wondering just where he’d gotten that paper and pencil from.

She glanced down at his artwork, trying to make sense of it. The lines were haphazard, the shapes somewhat abstract. Paige tilted her head, her curiosity piqued as she tried to figure out what she was looking at.

“What you drawing dude?” she asked as she crouched down to get a better look.

Lukas looked up at her, his expression completely serious, like it should be clear as day what he was creating. “Ma, it’s a basketball hoop,” he said matter-of-factly, as if she should’ve known that from the start.

Paige raised an eyebrow at the drawing, her smile growing. The abstract shapes and squiggles started to make sense in her head now, and she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his imagination. “Oooh, yeah, I see it now,” she said, playing along with a grin as she exaggerated her acknowledgment, making him laugh with pride.

She scooped him up effortlessly, his small arms wrapping around her neck immediately. He let out a yawn and buried his face in her shoulder with a soft sigh. Paige smiled down at him and kissed his head before moving toward the door.

She caught sight of her security guard sitting at one of the tables near the entrance, doing his usual routine. He never looked too imposing, but that was part of the job—he blended in. He was always calm, always steady, and knew when to step in without making anyone feel uncomfortable.

Paige had always been a little protective of her sense of independence, even after hiring a security team when she got to the league. She had always been determined to keep the control of her life in her own hands. She still drove herself around whenever she could, enjoyed the simple privacy of a quick coffee run without the constant buzz of attention, and most of all, she never wanted her security guard to be too close, hovering nearby. It was one of the things that made her feel like herself—the ability to be just another person, moving through the world without the heaviness of fame always hanging over her.

Her security guard was great at his job. He knew when to blend into the background and when to step in to get her out of situations. Paige had learned to trust him over time—he was discreet, always in the right place at the right time, without being an obvious presence.

Paige glanced over at him. “We’re heading to the gym,” Paige said. He gave a quick nod as he stood up to follow.

Paige stepped out of the café, the door closing gently behind her security as he walked towards his vehicle. The early Dallas sunlight bathed her in a warm glow. She walked toward her car, her sneakers making soft sounds against the pavement as Lukas chatted away.

She unlocked the back door of her Jeep where Lukas’s car seat was waiting. As she opened the door and sat him in his seat, she asked with a teasing tone, “You can buckle it?”

Lukas stopped in his tracks, a look of almost exaggerated offense crossing his face. His wide blue eyes narrowed slightly, as if she’d just asked him the most ridiculous question.

With a huff, he promptly reached over and started to buckle himself into his car seat—no assistance needed. The little grunt of concentration made Paige smile as she leaned against the car, arms crossed as she watched him with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

“You’re so independent,” she muttered under her breath, but Lukas was clearly on a mission and didn’t hear her. Within seconds, he had the car seat secured, sitting up proudly in his seat as he looked at his mom as if saying ‘see.’

Paige shook her head, laughing softly. “My son is so sassy,” she muttered to herself with a small, fond smile. She gave a small tug on the buckle to make sure he did it correctly before kissing his head and shutting the door and walking to the driver's seat. Paige was used to it by now—the way Lukas was quick to show off his little bits of grown-up behavior, always full of surprises, always one step ahead of her in his own way.

…

Later that night, after her day had wound down, Paige sat on the couch in the living room, the quiet hum of a random game playing on the TV in the background. Lukas was sprawled out beside her, completely fast asleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Paige took a moment to just look at him, her heart swelling with that familiar sense of calm that always followed after a long day of chaos.

Her gaze shifted to the table in front of her, where she had tossed the card earlier. Reaching for it, she flipped it over in her hands, her thumb grazing the edges before she grabbed her phone. She typed in the number on the back of the card, staring at the digits for a moment before tapping them into her messages.

She typed out a quick simple message: "So, about that coffee?"

Paige tossed her phone to the side before leaning back on the couch, eyes going back to the game on TV. Her phone buzzed a few minutes later, breaking her train of thought.

Paige scoffed when she saw the reply, and couldn’t help but grin. It read: “No introduction?”

She quickly typed back, tapping her fingers across the screen: “Didn’t think I needed one.”

The reply came almost immediately, and Paige’s grin grew. “Of course you didn’t.”

Paige chuckled and sat up a little straighter, then typed her response: “When are you free?”

She watched the screen for a moment, her fingers tapping lightly against her phone as she waited. A moment later, Azzi’s response popped up: “Thursday?”

Paige slid her thumb across her phone to open the calendar app, checking her schedule with a quick scan before going back to the message thread. She typed out: “I can do 11 Thursday.”

Azzi’s response was short and to the point: “Sounds good.”

For a moment, Paige paused. A thought struck her, and she smirked as she typed her next message: “So, what, I just gotta think about you for another day before I can thank you for helping my son?”

She hit send and set the phone down on the couch beside her, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she leaned back again. But it didn’t take long for Azzi’s response to come through, a quick and simple reply: “Seems that way.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, glancing at her phone. “Sounds kinda crazy to me,” she typed, a little smirk tugging at her lips as she sent it off.

She set the phone down again, turning her attention back to Lukas, who was still sound asleep beside her. Before she could drift too far into her thoughts, her phone buzzed once more. The message that appeared on the screen was brief and simple: “Goodnight, Paige.”

A genuine smile crossed Paige’s face at Azzi not playing into her antics. She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips before she tossed her phone aside, letting it land gently on the couch. She moved quietly, scooping Lukas into her arms, his small body warm against her chest.

"Come on, little man," she whispered softly, cradling him as she stood up. She carried him to his room, the quiet rhythm of his breathing the only sound that filled the quiet house. Once she’d tucked him into bed, she kissed the top of his head gently, smoothing his hair back.

Paige stood for a moment, watching him before turning to leave the room.

…

When Thursday rolled around, Paige strolled into the café at around 10:55 AM, her steps steady and relaxed as she took in the familiar setting. The soft sound of music filled the air. As she walked further inside, her eyes immediately landed on Azzi. She wasn’t expecting her to be there before her, but there she was, already sitting at a table with her legs crossed as she looked down at her phone. Paige raised an eyebrow, half impressed, half surprised. Azzi looked perfectly at ease, even in the midst of the quiet bustle around her.

Paige’s security guard, always positioned with careful subtlety, took a seat near the door, his gaze scanning the room.

Paige made her way over to Azzi, a small smile tugging at her lips as she approached the table. Azzi’s eyes flicked to the guy that walked in with Paige, a subtle look of confusion crossing her face. Paige settled into the chair across from Azzi and shrugged lightly, her grin a little teasing.

“Security,” Paige said simply.

Azzi gave a small nod. “Ahh, okay.”

For a brief moment, there was a silence between them. Neither spoke, but they both seemed to take a moment to observe each other.

Paige cleared her throat, breaking the quiet, and leaned forward a bit. “Can I get you a coffee?”

Azzi smiled softly at the gesture, standing up gracefully. “We can go up together,” she said.

Paige nodded and stood up as well, the two of them heading toward the counter.

After they ordered their drinks, Paige and Azzi made their way to a booth in the back of the café instead of a regular table. The cozy corner felt more private, offering them a bit more space. They both sat across from one another, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The soft clinking of mugs and the low hum of background chatter filled the space.

Finally, Paige couldn't help but laugh, breaking the silence. “If you can’t tell, I’m not exactly used to this whole coffee date thing.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh, really? I couldn’t tell.” she said sarcastically, clearly a little amused by Paige’s admission.

Paige chuckled at the tone in Azzi’s voice, the subtle tension easing just a little. “Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just used to…other things.”

Azzi’s eyes glinted with curiosity, she leaned forward slightly. “What do you usually do with women, Paige?”

Before Paige could answer, Azzi added, her tone light but assertive, “And I’m someone who prefers honesty.”

Paige paused for a second, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips. She liked this. Azzi wasn’t playing games. She didn’t want anything sugar-coated, and Paige appreciated that, maybe more than she expected to.

“Well,” Paige started, “usually, women aren’t all that interested in the dating aspect.”

Azzi hummed thoughtfully. She took a slow sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving Paige’s, studying her with that cool, almost calculating gaze. She set the cup down gently on the table, her fingers brushing against the porcelain as she leaned back slightly.

“I see,” Azzi finally said, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of curiosity. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze narrowing just a touch as she added, “And what were you looking for when you asked to take me out?”

Paige studied Azzi for a moment, taking in the way she carried herself with such quiet confidence. Her brown eyes were soft and inviting, yet still calculated, and the curly hair perfectly pulled out of her face added to the allure of her composure. There was something about the way Azzi held herself—it wasn’t like anyone else Paige had ever met.

A small chuckle escaped Paige’s lips as she shrugged, her shoulders moving in a casual semi playful gesture. It was the same move Lukas had made the other day. Azzi’s eyes softened as she took in Paige’s posture, realizing with a small smile that Lukas definitely got it from her.

Paige leaned back in her seat, studying Azzi for a moment, before answering in a more casual tone. “I wanted to thank the gorgeous woman in front of me for helping my son.”

Azzi’s expression didn’t change at first, but her eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something else. “So you wanted to sleep with me?” she asked bluntly.

Paige met Azzi’s gaze directly, her lips curling into a slight smile. “The thought is definitely on the table,” she said, speaking honestly, without any pretense.

Azzi picked up on the way Paige worded her response. “Is?” she repeated, the single word hanging in the air between them.

Paige hummed thoughtfully at the question, leaning in a little closer. “Yeah, is,” she said softly, her voice laced with a quiet confidence that matched Azzi’s own.

Though Azzi carried herself with a poise that was different from the women Paige was used to, there was something about her that Paige couldn’t place. Azzi was calm, composed, but Paige noticed the way Azzi crossed her legs a little more tightly as the conversation shifted. The subtle movement didn’t go unnoticed, and neither did the slight tightening of her throat, a small, almost imperceptible swallow that hinted at a shift in the dynamic.

Paige couldn’t help but smirk, a quiet acknowledgment passing between them without a word being spoken.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile as she met Paige’s gaze again , and then, with a slight tilt of her head, she said, “You’re attractive.”

Paige’s smile only deepened, her confidence never wavering as she responded, “I’m aware.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh. She leaned back slightly in her seat. “But I’m not sleeping with you after one coffee date.”

Paige paused for a moment, considering her words. She wasn’t used to hearing that—at least not in such a direct way. But there was something about Azzi’s honesty that Paige found appealing, something real and refreshing. Finally, she hummed, acknowledging the boundary without pushing. “That’s fair.”

Azzi studied her for a moment, her gaze steady, before asking with that same confidence, “Is that something you’re okay with?”

Paige took a deep breath, her mind running through a series of thoughts before she responded. She could appreciate that Azzi wasn’t playing games, that she wasn’t trying to hide her expectations. Paige took another beat, then added, “Let’s see how this first date goes.”

“That’s fair.”

After that the conversation flowed naturally between them, not forced but easy, the kind of conversation where the gaps in speech felt comfortable rather than awkward. Paige talked about basketball, the upcoming season, and the usual pre-season jitters that came with gearing up with a slightly different roster. She joked about the pressure of always having to be at her best, but Azzi could hear the underlying seriousness in her voice, the weight of a career built on constant performance.

Azzi shared her own experiences, talking about her work with athletes and how she approached sports medicine differently. She explained what a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine was—how she took a more holistic approach to treating injuries, focusing on the body as a whole rather than just isolating the injury. It was clear from the way she spoke that she was passionate about what she did, but Azzi wasn’t sure how much Paige would actually connect with it. After all, most athletes only cared about getting back on the court or field as quickly as possible, and they usually relied on standard physical therapy or rehab.

Much to her surprise, Paige was attentive, asking questions at just the right moments, listening intently. It wasn’t just idle small talk for her; she was engaged, processing what Azzi was saying and chiming in when something in particular piqued her interest. Azzi found herself intrigued by how naturally it came to Paige—how her curiosity and genuine interest seemed to draw out more of Azzi’s thoughts than she had expected to share.

On the other hand, Paige was pleasantly surprised at how much she didn’t mind listening to Azzi explain sports medicine. She had never considered herself the type to get into that side of things, but there was something about Azzi in general that made something that she would typically find a bore to be interesting.

In the middle of their conversation, as Paige was talking about something Azzi had asked her, she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. A teenage girl had approached their booth hesitantly, and Paige paused mid-sentence. Her eyes softened as she caught the girl’s gaze, and a warm smile spread across her face. Azzi, still talking, didn’t notice at first, and the sudden change in Paige’s demeanor left her slightly confused.

The girl, her voice a bit shaky, asked, “Hi can I get a picture please?”

Paige stood up from the booth without hesitation, her smile never wavering. “Of course,” she said. The girl’s face lit up, and her excitement was palpable as she stepped closer to Paige. Her father, who had been standing a little off to the side, joined them, ready to take the photo.

Azzi watched the scene unfold. She saw how gentle Paige was in her interaction with the fan.

The father snapped the picture, and once he was done, he extended his hand with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. Huge fans,” he said.

Paige shook his hand with a smile. “Thank you,” she replied, her tone warm but brief, showing how accustomed to this routine she was. As the father and daughter turned to leave, Paige’s voice caught their attention one last time.

“Sorry to ask this,” she said, sounding a little apologetic. “But if you’re planning on posting that, could you wait a few hours until I’m gone? Just wanna enjoy the afternoon, you know?”

The father nodded understandingly. “No problem at all,” he said, and Paige smiled again, grateful.

“Thank you,” she said before turning back to the booth, easing herself back into the seat in front of Azzi, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a small laugh escaping her as Paige settled back into her seat. “Not used to being the center of attention, huh?” she asked with a teasing grin.

Paige shook her head, smiling back at Azzi. “I’m used to it, just...sometimes it’s nice to have a day of peace.” She glanced at Azzi. “Sorry about that.”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine. I get it. You’re a big deal.”

Paige couldn’t help but laugh at the comment, a soft chuckle escaping her as she leaned back slightly. “You should see Lukas when kids approach me,” she began, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought about her son. “He used to get super jealous—until he realized I was his mom and not theirs. He still gets a little jealous now, but it’s better.”

Azzi smiled, the mention of Lukas bringing something a little lighter to the conversation. “That’s the first time you’ve talked about him today,” she observed, almost surprised.

Paige’s smile deepened. “Yeah, well… kids not exactly first date material,” she said with a slight laugh, as if the idea of talking about her son had never crossed her mind for this kind of setting.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving slightly. “I disagree,” she said.

Paige looked at her, a curious glint in her eyes. “Yeah?”

Azzi leaned in a bit, her gaze steady. “I mean, he’s a big part of your life, right?”

Paige nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah, he is.”

Azzi’s expression softened too, her voice carrying a subtle warmth. “Then he’s a part of getting to know you.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully, considering Azzi’s words for a moment. There was a quiet acknowledgment in the way her eyes flickered with a mix of emotions.

Azzi leaned in slightly, her voice inviting. “Tell me about him.”

Paige laughed lightly at the thought of him. “Oh, he’s a handful. Probably two handfuls, honestly,” she said, her smile turning a little more affectionate as she spoke about her son. “He’s smart, always getting into something but he probably gets that from me so I can’t even be upset.”

Azzi smiled. “He’s a cutie.”

This seemed to catch Paige’s attention, her smirk returning. “Hm, is that right?” she said.

Azzi rolled her eyes, recognizing exactly what Paige was implying. “I already told you I thought you were attractive,” she said.

Paige hummed in acknowledgment, a small smirk curling at the corner of her lips. She was about to reply when Azzi’s tone shifted, something more serious slipping in. “Can I ask you something?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, giving her an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “Lukas is clearly biologically yours,” she began, her gaze steady but gentle, as if she was treading carefully.

Paige immediately caught on to the unspoken question, her expression softening. She leaned back slightly, a quiet honesty in her voice. “My ex gave birth to him using my egg.”

Azzi nodded slowly, processing the information. Paige continued, “I have sole custody of him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

The air between them shifted, Azzi’s curiosity evident but respectful. “So you don’t have any contact with her anymore, I’m assuming?”

Paige’s eyes darkened slightly, but her response was straightforward. “No.”

Azzi nodded again, a sign of understanding, and didn’t press further as she shifted the conversation back to something lighter.

Their coffee date wrapped up a little while later, both of them glancing at the time as they realized how quickly it had flown by. Azzi had a client scheduled, and Paige had practice waiting for her, the familiar weight of their responsibilities pulling them back into their respective worlds.

As they stood up from the booth, a quiet but comfortable understanding lingered between them. Azzi reached for her bag, giving Paige a small, warm smile. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to your day.”

Paige nodded, returning the smile with a softness in her eyes. “Yeah, practice is calling.” She paused, then added, “But this was nice.”

Azzi’s smile widened just a bit. “It was. Maybe we should do it again sometime?”

Paige smirked at this question, “So I wasn’t too arrogant?”

Azzi laughs saying, “Just enough apparently.”

Paige huffed out a laugh saying, “I’ll text you.”

Azzi gave a soft smile. “I look forward to it.” With that she headed toward the door where her driver was waiting to take her to the clinic.

They didn’t exactly plan when or where their second date would happen, but neither of them seemed worried about it.

…

After that day the two of them hadn’t seen one another in some time. Their busy schedules made it hard for them to find time to meet up again. Still they had kept in contact. They had been texting and even had a few phone calls here and there as they got to know one another.

One evening Azzi sat at the bar, sipping on a cocktail and enjoying the women in sports gala around her. The atmosphere was lively, with people mingling, but she wasn’t as interested in the small talk as some others were. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone she knew, but when she saw Paige walking toward the complimentary bar, her attention was immediately drawn.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, observing the scene. Paige’s stride was confident as she approached the bar, her simple presence commanding attention even in a crowd of people. The bartender greeted her with an overly flirtatious smile, her body language completely different than when she served anyone else. Paige gave her a tight, polite smile in return, but it was clear she wasn’t interested.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile. She hadn’t expected to see Paige here, but now that she had, she found herself happy to see her again. Azzi reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, typing a message.

You clean up nice.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, watching Paige as she stood at the bar, the bartender handing her a drink. Paige glanced down at her phone, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Azzi watched the gears turn in her head as she scanned the room. A few moments passed before their eyes locked across the space.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of Paige’s lips as she made eye contact with Azzi and raised her eyebrow. Azzi’s pulse quickened just a little, amused by the unspoken challenge. Paige thanked the bartender, tossing a generous tip down before turning toward Azzi.

Azzi stood up from her seat. Before she could say anything, Paige closed the distance between them and leaned in for a quick hug. Azzi didn’t miss the way Paige’s eyes scanned her up and down once they pulled apart—quick, but thorough. Azzi could almost hear the assessment happening behind that sly smirk.

Paige sat down next to Azzi, adjusting her drink in her hand as she got settled.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, her smile softening. "I see you finally noticed me," she teased before she took another sip of her cocktail.

Paige’s eyes met hers as she replied, "Well, you weren't hard to miss. You look amazing.”

Azzi smiled at the compliment, her own eyes giving Paige a once over as she settled next to her. It felt like an unspoken game, both of them sizing each other up without quite saying the obvious. The tension was there. Neither of them had to try too hard to make it noticeable.

“You, enjoying the event?” Azzi asked.

Paige leaned back, looking around the venue before sighing. “Honestly? Hell no. I been bored all night. Networking, small talk, you know the drill. I’d rather be on the court.”

Azzi nodded, understanding immediately. “I get that. It’s hard to get invested in something that feels ingenuine.”

Paige’s lips quirked. “Exactly. But, I’m here, so... might as well make the best of it. Paige pauses for a second smoothly scooting closer to Azzi as she adds, “I think I can have a pretty good time now though.”

Azzi playfully rolls her eyes at this. She had gotten used to Paige’s non stop flirting in the past two weeks. Azzi mumbles, “Whatever.”

Paige chuckled lightly, swirling the ice in her drink before taking another sip. "So," she started, leaning back in her seat and eyeing Azzi with a grin. "What do you do for fun, when you're not, you know, saving athletes from ourselves and texting me at ungodly hours asking about my day?"

Azzi raised an eyebrow, at the question. "First of all, you like it. Second, If I’m being honest, I don’t really get a lot of time for ‘fun,’” she said with a soft laugh. “But when I do give myself a break, I like to get out of the city, maybe take a short trip somewhere.

“Where you like to go?”

Azzi thought about it for a second before saying, “Well you know I like nature so anywhere that doesn’t have light pollution honestly. Somewhere quiet.”

Paige hummed at Azzi’s answer, swirling the ice in her drink. “That actually sounds nice,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve seen real stars in years.”

Azzi tilted her head. “What, not even on the road? Some of those late-night flights gotta give you a decent view.”

Paige let out a short laugh. “Maybe, but I’m usually either knocked out or too busy watching film for the next game to notice.” She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. “Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time I went on an actual vacation. Between the WNBA season, Unrivaled, endorsement events, Lukas, and whatever else gets thrown my way… there’s barely any downtime.”

Azzi studied her for a moment, catching something in Paige’s tone that felt just a little heavier than her usual confident energy. “That sounds exhausting,” she said, voice softer. “Do you ever give yourself a chance to just… stop? Even for a second?”

Paige scoffed, leaning back in her seat. “Not really. If I’m not playing, I’m training. If I’m not training, I’m doing media. If I’m not doing media, I’m at some event pretending to care about small talk.” She motioned toward the room with a light laugh, but there was an underlying truth there—one Azzi could see past the bravado.

Azzi tapped her fingers against her glass thoughtfully. “You ever think about forcing yourself to take a break? Even just for a couple days?”

Paige raised an eyebrow at her. “And do what?”

Azzi shrugged. “I don’t know… go somewhere with no cameras, no schedule, no pressure. Just exist for a bit.”

Paige looked at her, a flicker of something in her expression before she smirked. “You offering to be my getaway guide?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just saying, if you ever decide to escape for a second, I could give you some ideas.”

Paige held her gaze for a moment before smiling. “Noted.” She took another sip of her drink, then nudged Azzi lightly with her shoulder. “Alright, next question. If you had a weekend off, no responsibilities, no distractions—what’s your ideal way to spend it?”

Azzi leaned back, considering the question. “Easy. A cabin in the mountains, a fire going, no phone, and maybe a book I’ve been meaning to read.”

Paige smirked. “No phone, huh? You’d survive without texting me at midnight?”

Azzi shot her a look, shaking her head with a laugh. “I think I’d manage.”

Paige hummed, tilting her head as if imagining it. “Sounds kinda nice. Maybe I need to consider that too..”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you do.”

Their eyes lingered on each other for a beat longer than necessary before Paige let out a small chuckle and looked down toward her drink.

“And what about you?” Azzi asked, tilting her head slightly. “I remember you saying Lukas is obsessed with building things.”

Paige chuckled at that, shaking her head. “Yeah, I got him his own little tool set and everything. The other day, he convinced me he needed a bigger bed just because he wanted to help build something.”

Azzi laughed, setting her drink down. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger.”

Paige sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “Unfortunately,” she mumbled, though the small smile on her face gave her away.

Azzi smirked. “But I guess this means you’re good at putting things together?”

Paige shrugged. “Yeah, I’m pretty handy around the house.”

Azzi hummed, tapping a finger against her glass. “So I know who to call when I need something built.”

Paige turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you were still in the building stage of a house you’ve lived in for years.”

Azzi shrugged, her expression carefully neutral. “I’m not. But who knows…I was thinking about getting a new entertainment system.”

Paige hummed at the insinuation, her lips twitching into a smirk as she leaned in slightly. “If you want me to come over, you can just ask.”

Azzi took a small sip of her drink before saying, “So, you're open to coming over?”

Paige huffed out a laugh, a glint in her eyes. “I thought we both knew that already.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady. “I mean, you never really brought it up again after the last time we texted. I just assumed that boat sailed.”

Paige’s lips quirked as she raked her eyes over Azzi’s frame slowly. “Definitely hasn’t sailed.”

For a moment, they both seemed to consider the implications of the words they just exchanged. The air between them a little thick with unspoken tension. They held each other’s gaze, neither of them needing to say much more, as if they both knew exactly where this was heading.

Then, as if on cue, Paige’s phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping them both out of the brief spell. Paige sighed, almost reluctantly breaking eye contact as she pulled the phone out, her expression shifting as she saw Drew’s name on the screen.

She swiped to answer, and immediately, the sound of Lukas’ cries echoed through the speaker. Paige tensed, her whole demeanor changing instantly. “Drew, what the hell is going on?” she asked.

Drew’s voice was frantic, a little apologetic. “I wasn’t looking for like two seconds, and he fell off the stool at the island. His hand’s pretty bad, Paige. He’s crying his eyes out and he’s asking for you. I swear it was only two seconds, I'm sorry.”

Paige’s breath caught in her throat as she clenched her jaw, trying to stay calm. “I told you he couldn’t fucking sit there, Drew,” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration. Drew apologized profusely before asking if he should take Lukas to the ER.

“No, I'll do it. I’m on my way,” Paige said, hanging up quickly. She turned to Azzi, her face drawn with concern. “I’m sorry I have to go. Lukas hurt his wrist and I have to take him to the emergency room.”

Azzi’s eyes widened slightly with immediate concern. “I can look at it if you’d like?” she offered without hesitation.

“Really?” Paige asked, her tone softening.

Azzi nodded with a smile. “Of course.”

Azzi set the glass down on the bar with a soft clink. She turned to Paige, who had already started rising from her seat.

Paige smiled at her, though there was a subtle tension in her posture, a quiet nervous energy she hadn’t shown since they’d met. Azzi caught it immediately. "Ready?" Paige asked, glancing down at her phone again, probably hoping for an update on Lukas.

“Yeah,” Azzi replied, giving Paige a reassuring smile. As they both started walking toward the exit, Azzi noticed how Paige’s pace had quickened as they neared the valet area.

When they reached the valet stand, Paige handed over her ticket. Paige’s nerves were palpable and Azzi noticed her chewing lightly on her bottom lip.

For the first time, Azzi saw the cracks in Paige’s usual confident demeanor. It was an interesting sight, seeing the athlete, usually so poised and composed, so visibly tense. Azzi caught her eye, her voice soft but steady. “Hey.”

Paige met her gaze, blinking, and then looking away. “Hm?”

Azzi stepped closer, her voice calm. “He’ll be fine,” she reassured her. “I promise.”

Paige sighed, her breath a little shaky as she checked her phone again. “I know…I just hate when I’m not there with him when something happens,” she admitted.

Azzi gave her a small, sympathetic smile. Paige noticed how Azzi’s arms had goosebumps from the breeze, her dress not quite enough to shield her from the night chill. Without thinking, Paige slipped off her suit jacket and draped it over Azzi’s shoulders.

Azzi froze for a moment, clearly surprised by the action. She glanced at Paige, her fingers instinctively running over the fabric of the jacket. The warmth from Paige’s body lingered in the material, her scent clinging to the fabric, and Azzi couldn’t ignore the small smile that tugged at her lips. There was something comforting about the action, the quiet care behind it.

"Thanks," Azzi said softly, her voice quieter than usual as she pulled the jacket tighter around herself.

Paige smiled in return, her lips curling up at the corners. “No problem,” she replied, her voice warmer than it had been moments before.

Paige smiled in return, her lips curling up at the corners, though it was a soft, almost vulnerable smile. “No problem,” she replied, her voice warmer than it had been moments before. A second later, the valet pulled up with Paige’s car. Paige walked toward it and opened the passenger door for Azzi.

The gesture once again caught Azzi by surprise, a small but meaningful one that made her chest warm. She knew Paige was worried about her son, likely running through a million thoughts in her head, yet she still made the effort to open the door for her. It wasn’t much, but it meant something.

“Thank you,” Azzi whispered as she slid into Paige’s car. Her words were quiet, but genuine, carrying a touch of warmth that mirrored what she felt in her chest.

Paige nodded and softly shut the door, her hand lingering on the handle for a moment longer than necessary. Then, she walked around the car, giving the valet a tip as she got into the driver’s side. As the door clicked shut Paige put on her seatbelt and adjusted her grip on the wheel before pulling away from the valet stand.

…

As the car came to a stop in front of Paige’s large driveway, Azzi had very little time to process just how beautiful the house was before she and Paige were getting out of the car and heading toward the door. The space was impressive, a blend of modern elegance with a sense of warmth, but Azzi didn’t have much time to linger on the details.

As soon as they stepped inside, Azzi could hear small, almost pitiful whimpers coming from the living room.She instinctively followed Paige as she led the way down the hallway. The moment they reached the living room, Lukas' eyes locked onto Paige, and his face lit up with a mix of relief and sadness.

The boy reached up for his mom, his blue eyes welling with tears again immediately. Paige easily scooped him up into her arms, holding him close, and let him rest his head against her neck. Azzi watched the way Paige instinctively soothed Lukas, rubbing a gentle hand along his back.

Paige had rolled the sleeves of her dress shirt up on the drive over, the cuffs left undone, a casual detail that gave her an even more relaxed appearance. But now, with Lukas in her arms, Azzi couldn’t stop herself from noticing how effortless it all seemed. The way she moved, the way she was comforting her son—it was magnetic, and Azzi was acutely aware of how attracted to Paige she felt in that moment.

Paige sat down on the couch, cradling Lukas in her lap, her hands gently rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down. The small boy whimpered slightly, still upset, his eyes swollen from the earlier tears. Paige leaned down to look at him as she spoke.

“Can you let Azzi look at your wrist, buddy?” she asked. Lukas’s eyes welled with fresh tears at the mention of someone touching his injury. He shook his head a little, clearly reluctant to have anyone near it.

Paige sighed softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek in an effort to soothe him. “Remember what I told you about being tough, even when you don’t want to?” she said, her voice steady, but full of warmth. Lukas hesitated for a moment, his pout deepening, but after a few seconds, he nodded slowly.

Paige smiled at him reassuringly. “This is one of those times, okay? But I’m going to be right here with you while she looks at it.” She made sure her voice was steady, offering him comfort in the midst of his hesitation.

Lukas sniffled but nodded again, still clinging to his mom. Azzi smiled sympathetically as she walked over to the couch, reaching for Paige’s jacket. She carefully slid it off her shoulders before draping it over the back of the couch. She then took a seat in front of Lukas and smiled at him sweetly, hoping to put him at ease.

“Hi, handsome,” Azzi said warmly.

Lukas’s face lit up for a brief moment, and Azzi caught the faintest hint of a grin forming on his lips. But before he could fully show it, he blushed shyly, quickly ducking his face into Paige’s chest, hiding from Azzi.

Paige’s jaw dropped slightly and she looked down at her son who was hiding in her chest. “No way, you just made my son blush,” she said.

Azzi laughed. “I’m pretty, what can I say?” she responded, raising an eyebrow with a confident smile.

Paige couldn't do anything but laugh as she continued to stroke Lukas’s hair.

Azzi refocused as Lukas peeked at her from behind Paige, his attention now on her. Azzi leaned forward slightly, her tone gentle. "I’m just going to take a quick look at your wrist, okay?"

Lukas nodded, though his face still held a trace of uncertainty. Azzi reached for his hand gently, unwrapping the makeshift wrap with careful hands. As she finished undoing the wrap, she set it aside before giving Lukas a soft, reassuring smile. “If anything hurts, can you tell me?” she asked.

Lukas nodded, and Azzi could see that he was trying to be brave, even if his little body still trembled here and there. She smiled at him again, her tone soft and still as patient as ever as she moved slower than usual. “You’re doing great.”

Azzi began near his elbow, gently squeezing the area there and watching for any signs of discomfort. When Lukas didn’t flinch or pull away, she continued to slowly move down his arm.

When she finally reached his wrist, she squeezed the red, portion carefully, her eyes immediately noticing the small flinch from Lukas. He whimpered, trying to pull his hand away, but Azzi was quick to adjust, maintaining a gentle hold to keep him from fully pulling away.

“Hey, Lukas,” she said softly. “Can you move your hand like this for me?” Azzi demonstrated by making a small motion with her own wrist, gesturing for him to follow.

Lukas hesitated for a second before slowly mimicking the motion with his own wrist, wincing slightly as he did so. Azzi watched carefully. “Good job,” she praised him before instructing, “Now, can you move it in the opposite direction like this?”

Lukas’s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded and followed her lead, turning his wrist in the opposite direction, though more slowly this time. Azzi’s smile widened slightly as she observed how brave he was being, even if it wasn’t easy for him.

“Look at you, tough guy,” she whispered, still holding his hand gently as she kept a watchful eye on his reactions.

Azzi smiled warmly at Lukas, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “All done,” she said softly. She glanced up at Paige. “He’ll be fine. He just needs a little ice.”

Paige looked at Azzi with a hint of disbelief, as if she was searching for more confirmation. “Really?” she asked.

Azzi nodded. “Yes, really. It’s just a little sore. Nothing serious.”

Paige let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as the tension drained from her body. “Thank god,” she muttered, a relieved laugh slipping from her lips. She looked down at Lukas, who had calmed down a little, his small hands still clutching her.

“Dude, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Paige teased as she gently ruffled his hair. Lukas let out a small giggle, a faint smile creeping onto his face.

Paige’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “Can you say thank you to Azzi?” she prompted, guiding Lukas’s attention back to the woman who had just helped him.

Lukas hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting up to meet Azzi’s. The instant their gazes locked, his cheeks flushed bright red. He quickly ducked his head, burying his face into Paige’s chest again.

Paige froze, staring at Lukas for a moment in shock. She’d never seen him act shy like this before. Lukas was always the confident little charmer, always trying to impress girls. But now, here he was, hiding in her chest, blushing like a little kid. It took her completely off guard.

Before she could say anything, Drew, sitting across the room with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow and grinned. "I think Luke has a little crush."

Lukas’s head whipped around instantly, his eyes wide with shock, and he yelled, “No!” at the top of his lungs, his face now a deeper shade of red.

Drew chuckled. “Nah, it’s okay, man,” he teased, leaning back on the couch. “We all get crushes.”

Lukas was having none of it. He jumped off Paige’s lap, completely ignoring the pain in his wrist now as he rushed towards Drew, fists raised.

“Hey, hey, careful!��� Drew laughed, raising his hands defensively. But Lukas was determined, throwing playful punches at his uncle, clearly more upset about the teasing than the injury.

Paige, still sitting on the couch, watched the little scuffle unfold, but when she saw Lukas’s hands flying, her tone became more serious. “What did I tell you about hitting?” she asked firmly.

Lukas froze mid-swing, his little arms still outstretched in the air, and his eyes widened as he realized he’d crossed the line.

“I’m sorry, Ma,” he mumbled, dropping his hands and looking down at the floor, a little embarrassed.

Paige sighed, but the edge in her voice softened as she gently pulled him back into her lap. “It’s okay, but you know better than that. We don’t solve problems with our fists,” she said softly, brushing a hair away from his face. “Can you apologize to Uncle Drew now?”

Lukas gave Drew a look of mild defiance but reluctantly said, “Sorry, Uncle Drew.”

Drew chuckled, his hands up in mock surrender. “No worries, buddy. Just don’t go knocking me out, alright?”

Realizing she hadn't introduced them, Paige quickly turned to Azzi, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Oh, Azzi, this is Drew, my brother. Drew, this is Azzi," she said, gesturing between the two of them.

Drew smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you," Azzi said politely, her eyes flicking to the little boy in Paige’s lap.

Drew nodded at Azzi. "The pleasure’s mine," he said, before shifting his attention back to Lukas, who was now squirming in Paige’s lap. Without missing a beat, Drew scooped Lukas up, holding him upside down. "Alright, Imma go finish my uncle duties and get this dude ready for bed."

Lukas let out a dramatic screech, kicking his legs as Drew playfully dangled him. “No! Not bed!” Lukas whined, but Drew just chuckled, walking toward the stairs with Lukas hanging upside down in his arms.

Paige laughed at their antics, shaking her head. “Y'all are crazy,” she yelled after them.

Turning her attention back to Azzi, Paige exhaled a relieved sigh. “Thank you, really. I didn’t know what I’d do without you tonight,” she said.

Azzi gave her a soft smile, nodding. "No problem at all. I’m just glad I could help.”

Paige leaned back into the couch, her shoulders relaxing. “I owe you one,” she added, her gaze lingering on Azzi a little longer this time.

Azzi caught the look, and for a second, the playful tension between them reappeared. "I’m sure I’ll think of a way for you to make it up to me," Azzi teased, her soft smile still on her face.

Paige tilted her head, smirking in return. "Oh, yeah?" she asked.

Azzi hummed.

“Like what?”

Azzi’s gaze dropped just briefly to Paige's lips, a small spark of something passing between them. Paige noticed the subtle shift and leaned in just slightly, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s, her finger brushing lightly against Azzi's shoulder as she waited for an answer.

Azzi's breath hitched slightly, but she pulled back, her eyes still locked onto Paige's. "Like getting me home safely," she said, her voice soft.

Paige threw her head back against the couch with a soft laugh, running her hands down her face. After a beat, she sat up again, turning her attention back to Azzi with a smirk that was impossible to miss.

"Getting you home safely, huh?" Paige said, her tone a little more teasing now, her eyes gleaming with that signature confidence.

Azzi met her gaze, her lips curling into a subtle smile. "Mhm," she confirmed, the warmth in her voice matching the look in her eyes.

"I think I can handle that."

With that, Paige stood and offered Azzi a hand to help her up from the couch. Azzi took it, feeling the small jolt of energy from the touch. She started to rise, but before she could, Paige’s next words stopped her in her tracks.

"You sure I can’t give you a tour before we head out?" Paige’s question was smooth, casual, but there was an edge to it. The way Paige’s blue eyes sparkled made it clear that she wasn’t just offering a tour of the house.

Azzi was about to agree, the invitation on the tip of her tongue, but then she caught that smirk on Paige’s face—the way she was looking at her. They both knew what would happen if Paige led her into her bedroom, and Azzi wasn’t sure she was quite ready for that leap—at least, not tonight.

"I think I’ll pass on that," Azzi said, her tone light and teasing, her eyes dancing with the same playful energy.

Paige raised an eyebrow, that glint still lingering in her expression. "Mm, okay." Then she gently placed her hand on Azzi’s lower back. The contact sent a ripple of warmth through Azzi’s body, and she felt the pressure of Paige’s palm guiding her toward the door.

Without another word, Paige led her out of the house, the night air surrounding them as they walked to the car. Neither of them spoke immediately, but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable.

As they reached the car, Paige opened the door for Azzi, her hand lingering just a little longer than necessary on her back.

Azzi smiled softly, her heart racing a little faster than it probably should have as she sat in the passenger seat. Paige gently shut the door before she walked around to the driver's side. As Azzi waited, she couldn't help but glance out the window, her eyes landing on the two other cars in the driveway.

Paige noticed the shift in her attention, and spoke up. "I use that one," she nodded toward the blackout jeep, "when I'm taking Lukas with me. Has his car seat in it."

Azzi nodded, her gaze following Paige's hand as she gestured to the car they were in. "And this one?" Azzi asked.

Paige smirked, clearly enjoying the chance to show off a little. "This one’s got a better tint and it’s faster," she explained. "I use it for events and things like that." She paused, her eyes meeting Azzi's. "Keeps things a little more private."

Azzi raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Private, huh?" she teased, as she considered the implications of that.

Paige's lips curved into a smile of her own. "Well," she said, her tone shifting to something a little more flirtatious, "you never know who might be watching."

Azzi couldn't help but laugh softly. There was something about the way Paige carried herself—confident, self-assured, but still a little obnoxious—that Azzi found undeniably magnetic. It was hard to ignore the chemistry between them anytime they spoke.

Azzi simply shrugged, keeping the mood light. "Guess I'll have to keep that in mind," she replied, her gaze lingering on Paige for a moment longer than she intended.

Paige chuckled softly, shaking her head as she shifted the car into drive. The drive to Azzi’s place was smooth, the low hum of the engine and the occasional soft exchange of words filling the space. The atmosphere between them felt comfortable, even with the unspoken tension lingering in the air.

When they finally pulled up to Azzi's place, Paige parked the car, and before Azzi could even reach for the door handle, Paige was already walking around to the passenger side. She opened the door for her as she extended a hand to help Azzi out.

Azzi smiled and placed her hand in Paige’s. “Thank you again,” she said softly, the sincerity in her voice clear.

Paige gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. She followed Azzi up the path to her door, her footsteps quiet beside Azzi’s heels clicking against the pavement as they approached the front steps. Once they reached the door, Paige paused, leaning back against the railing.

“Thank you for your help… again,” Paige said. There was a certain softness to her voice that made the words feel more personal than just a simple thanks.

Azzi glanced at Paige, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she stepped a little closer, the sharp click of her heels against the pavement adding a rhythmic sound to the quiet of the night as her perfume filled Paige’s senses at the proximity.

“No problem,” Azzi replied with a small smile, her voice just as soft as before. She took a small step closer, her gaze never leaving Paige's face.

Paige felt a surge of warmth, a quiet pull between them that made her a little excited. She kept her hands in her pockets, not moving but fully aware of how close Azzi had gotten.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, just standing there, the space between them filled with something that neither could name.

Azzi's voice broke the quiet moment. "So, about that second date?" She paused, watching Paige carefully. "What's your schedule like?"

Paige pulled her phone out of her pocket, flicking through her calendar. She turned the screen toward Azzi with a half smile.

Azzi accepted the phone gently, her fingers brushing against Paige’s as she did so. She pulled out her own phone and began comparing their schedules, the two of them silent for a few moments as she browsed through the information. When she found a time that worked for both of them, she tapped in the details and then, without asking, added it to Paige's calendar.

Paige watched with an amused grin as Azzi took charge of the timing. "You didn’t even ask," Paige said playfully.

Azzi looked up, catching the glint in Paige’s eye, and shrugged with a soft smile. "I’m just being efficient," she replied, handing the phone back.

Paige glanced at her phone, noticing that Azzi had put the date for the day after tomorrow. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she locked the phone and slid it back into her pocket.

Azzi spoke, her voice quieter, almost grateful. "Thank you for getting me home safely."

Paige's smile softened as she met Azzi’s gaze. "Anytime," she replied, her words almost too easy, as if the offer to look out for Azzi was something she genuinely wanted to give.

Azzi bit her lip, clearly holding back something, before she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Paige's cheek. The action was quick but warm, and it sent a small shock of heat through Paige’s chest. "Goodnight, Paige," Azzi whispered.

"Goodnight, Azzi," Paige responded, her voice lower than usual. The moment lingered between them as they hugged, Azzi’s arms wrapping around Paige’s shoulders, and Paige’s arms gently pulling Azzi closer by the waist.

Azzi watched as Paige turned to walk toward her car, her eyes following every step. Paige stopped before getting in the car and leaned over the driver’s side door slightly, her voice cutting through the night air.

"I'll pick you up on Wednesday?"

Azzi’s smile grew at the offer. "You’ll pick me up Wednesday," she said.

Paige nodded, watching as Azzi unlocked her door and stepped inside before getting in her car and driving off.

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton Chapter 2, Part 1

masterpost - this is just a first draft, please no editing or concrit! I have had a migraine for over a week now (。﹏ 。)

“Are you even sure that they’re here with us now?” Mina asked as she shuffled her tarot cards almost absentmindedly.

Mina was taking Danny’s request apparently very seriously. They had moved from the cozy kitchen into the appropriately mysterious reading room. Mina sat in her navy blue, wingback chair. Danny stood next to the more demure guest chair at the table. The candles were even lit.

He picked up on of the coins scratched with odd symbols and turned it over in his fingers. He knew that Mina would use them as oracle coins with her cards, a way to add more depth to what was being told, but they were basically a complete mystery to him.

Danny set the coin back down. “They’re here. I think they feel bad for the seizure so they’ve been sticking close. There’s this… you know old monitors and screens? The big chunky ones. If you got close to them you could basically feel the static electricity coming off of them? That’s what their presence feels like to me.”

“Oh, huh. The cards can sometimes feel that way to me when I’m picking them,” Mina said. Her head was tilted thoughtfully, her eyes just slightly absent. “I wonder if they’re less ghost and more magic. Or if they were magic when they were alive? Magic of course being used loosely here for a variety of otherwordly and arcane forces.”

“Maybe,” Danny agreed with a helpless little shrug. “Like I’ve said, they don’t feel like a normal ghost, but if they’re not a ghost I don’t know why they came to me. Someone like you would be better at helping them if they’re magic and not dead.”

“On the surface, sure, but like, you don’t feel like a ‘normal’—” Mina made airquotes with her fingers around the word normal. “—human yourself.”

“Say what now?”

“Well you don’t!” Mina finally set the cards down so that she could motion freely as she talked. “It’s not something that the average person is going to pick up on, but to an adapt like me you also feel like you’re an adapt or something. Heck, I bet that you’ve met some people that you just weird out for no real reason you can tell. That’s the otherness.”

Well, she was right, he had freaked people out before, but he had always thought that was just a bad day and his ghostliness was bleeding through a little or something. He wasn’t magic.

“Now sit down,” Mina said.

Danny blinked. “I’m not who you’re reading.”

“No, but I can’t read them, so I’ll have to read them through you,” Mina explained like it was the most obviously thing.

It was best just to trust Mina, Danny figured, and took the seat across from her. Immediately, Hubris jumped up in Danny’s lap and nudged at his fingers for a pet. Mina stacked the deck straight and slid it over.

“Shuffle these for me. Don’t try to focus inside or on a question or anything, just focus on them.”

“Them as in them and not them as in the cards, right?”

Mina rolled her eyes. “Yes, Danny.”

“Look, I’m just making sure! I don’t do magic,” Danny said as he started to shuffle. It was a little hard to do so, what with Hubris trying to bat the cards away, but Danny did his very best to focus on the ghost. He thought about how it felt to interact with them. What they looked like. What the echo of their nearly there voice sounded like.

The tags on Hubris’ collar zapped Danny with a sudden zap of static electricity and Danny put down the deck to shake his hand out. Mina snapped them up as soon as he did. He guessed he was done shuffling.

“Ghost friend,” Mina called out. (Danny thought the ‘friend’ bit was generous.) “If you can hear me, focus on what got you in this mess.”

Danny leaned forward to try, as always, to see if he could sense something from Mina as she cut the cards, fanned out several on the table in front of her, and ran her fingers along them. As always, he didn’t see a damn thing about what made her pick the card she did.

Mina gave the sort of sucked in breath that pulled her bottom lip into her teeth as she flipped over the first card. It was the Tower. The bricks detailed by gold foil outlines that paled in comparison to the large lightning bolt striking it.

“Not good?” Danny asked.

“Very not good. You know how Death isn’t actually a card to fear?”

Danny nodded.

Mina tapped the card. “This is the card to fear.”

“Huh. Damn.”

[jxmis]

Lose You To Love Me

Pairings: Yu Jimin / Karina x Reader

Summary: Everything changed between Y/N and Jimin after Milan Fashion Week. Months later, Y/N, now in New York, releases their first song, an emotional track that reveals their heartbreak, making Jimin realize her mistake too late.

Warning(s): heavy angst, toxic behavior, male being is mentioned

A/N: sorry in advance 😭 I also still suck at summarizing 😅 header photo is not my best work… did it during work cuz i was bored 😆 and look at me not disappearing again after i post a fic 🤭

Inspired by Lose You To Love Me by Selena Gomez ❤️‍🩹

The night air in New York carried a sharp chill, but Y/N barely noticed. Their fingers hovered over the play button on their phone, hesitating. The song was finished. Every lyric bled from the pain Jimin had left behind.

The world had already moved on.

Aespa’s Karina and Actor Lee Jae-Wook reportedly engaged?

The headline was everywhere. But Y/N wasn’t sure if they’d ever move on.

Not when they could still remember how it all fell apart.

5 MONTHS AGO

“This is a big opportunity, baby.” Jimin’s voice crackled through the speaker, excitement laced in every word. “Milan Fashion Week. I’ll be sitting front row next to designers, actors—people who could open doors for me.”

Y/N smiled, despite the uneasy feeling curling in their gut. “I’m happy for you, babe. I just…” They hesitated. “I wish I could come with you.”

“I wish you could too.” A beat of silence. “We’ll celebrate when I’m back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jimin left the next morning.

And when she returned, something between them had changed.

At first, it was subtle. The late-night texts that used to be filled with love were now short and mechanical. The phone calls grew shorter, her voice distant.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Y/N said one evening as they sat across from each other in Jimin’s room.

Jimin barely looked up from her phone. “Just busy.”

“It’s not just that.” Y/N swallowed hard. “Did something happen in Milan?”

Jimin tensed, but her answer was smooth. “Nothing happened. You’re overthinking.”

But Y/N could see the cracks forming. The way Jimin’s mind was elsewhere. How she flinched when Y/N reached for her hand.

➽───────

A few days later, the final blow came.

“I don’t think this is working anymore.” Jimin’s voice was quiet, but her words rang louder than anything Y/N had ever heard.

Y/N blinked. “What?”

Jimin exhaled, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I just… I don’t feel the same way anymore.”

“Since when?” Y/N’s voice cracked. “Since Milan?”

Jimin hesitated. That was all the confirmation Y/N needed.

“I thought we were okay,” Y/N whispered. “I thought we were forever.”

Jimin looked away. “I’m sorry.”

And just like that, everything they had built crumbled.

It only took a few days. A blurry photo surfaced—Jimin and Jaewook leaving a restaurant together, his hand resting on her lower back.

Y/N stared at the screen, numb. The articles speculated, fans theorized, but nothing was confirmed.

Not yet.

But two months later, Dispatch made sure the whole world knew. Sharing evidence that couldn’t be mistaken as another one of Dispatch’s fake news. It’s too real to deny.

Aespa’s Karina and Actor Lee Jae-Wook: Korea’s New Power Couple

Y/N felt sick. Seeing all the pictures with dates and timestamps. Anonymous workers giving details of what was supposed to be private date nights between Jimin and Jaewook. All of it were exposed.

Jimin had replaced them. After two months. And this time, there was no coming back.

➽───────

Aeri knocked on Y/N’s apartment door the day after the Dispatch article dropped.

“Checking to see if I’m still breathing?” Y/N joked, stepping aside to let Aeri in.

Aeri sighed, sitting on the couch. “Something like that.”

“Thanks Gi.. I’m good don’t worry.” But Aeri doesn’t buy it. Skipping the common “Are you okay?” or “How are you?” questions with these type of situations. Why would she ask questions she already knew the answer to. Knowing your answers would also be bullshit anyways.

Aeri hesitated before asking, “So… what now? What’s next for you?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “A label in New York reached out. They want me as a producer.”

Aeri’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! Wait, that means you’re moving?” With this, Aeri looked around Y/N’s apartment. Finally noticing how empty it looks. Boxes filled with Y/N’s belongings in the corner of the living room.

You chuckle but your eyes filled with sadness. “Yeah.. they’ve actually been offering me this opportunity for a while now. I just always declined it because…”

“Of Jimin,” Aeri says finishing Y/N’s sentence.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. There’s nothing left for me in Korea. Nothing keeping me here.” They exhaled, the weight of their words settling in. “I think it’s time to start over—to finally put myself first. I really thought… we could fix this. That she just needed time and space. But I guess I was wrong. I should’ve known better instead of waiting around like an idiot.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Aeri cut in. “No one saw this coming. Not even me or the girls. I love Jimin but.. she’s the idiot for not realizing what a huge mistake she’s making by letting you go.”

Y/N let out a bittersweet chuckle, shaking your head in response. You appreciate Aeri’s attempts to cheer you up, even if the pain still lingers.

Aeri studies them for a long moment before nodding. “Then go kill it over there. Make her regret everything.”

Y/N wiped away the tears that had slipped down their cheeks, then mustered up a smirk. “Oh, don’t worry—I will.”

➽───────

PRESENT DAY

Aeri, Ningning, and Minjeong sat silently in the studio as Y/N’s voice poured through the speakers.

I gave my all and they all know it

Then you tore me down and now it’s showing…

Jimin’s betrayal was woven into every note. Y/N had turned their pain into something tangible, something undeniable.

When the song was released, the world listened.

And so did Jimin.

Jimin wasn’t sure what she had expected when she pressed play. But the moment she heard Y/N’s voice, she felt her heart crack.

You promised the world and I fell for it.

I put you first and you adored it.

The lyrics were a knife to the gut.

She had promised Y/N forever. And then she had thrown it all away.

Tears blurred her vision. She had told herself that her feelings for Jaewook were real. That she had made the right choice.

But why did she feel so empty?

I needed to lose you to find me…

The chorus crashed over her like a wave, every lyric cutting deeper than the last.

Y/N had written about them. About her.

Jimin squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears came anyway. The memories hit her like a storm—Y/N’s laughter echoing in their apartment, the way they’d dance in the kitchen at midnight, the way Y/N would whisper Jimin like it was the only name that mattered.

And then, the fights. The distance. The heartbreak.

Jimin sucked in a shaky breath.

She had let Y/N go.

And now, they had let her go too. This was Y/N’s closure. But Jimin couldn’t help but try and fix things.

➽───────

Meanwhile, you’re in your studio in NYC when your phone buzzes. You smile seeing it’s from Aeri.

[GA AERI 🤡]: The song—damn, Y/N. It was raw. More importantly… the biggest plot twist of the century! I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this voice of yours all these years?! Who knew the Y/N Y/L/N could sing?!?!

Y/N laughs, feeling a mix of pride and amusement.

[Y/N/N]: Thank you, thank you… means a lot coming from Aespa’s Giselle 😆!! I guess I just needed the right motivation to finally show this side of me. But now I get why you get so emotional, that look on your face like you’re on cloud nine whenever you talk about writing your own music.

[GA AERI 🤡]: So what I’m hearing is that I inspired you to make your own music? 😏 You’re so welcome! 😉 I expect to be credited!!!

You roll your eyes, but can’t contain the small chuckle that escapes your lips.

[Y/N/N]: Shut up 😒 It feels nice, actually singing the music rather than just being behind the scenes, you know what I mean? There’s something freeing about it. It’s like finally owning my story, not just creating it for someone else.

[GA AERI 🤡]: In all seriousness… Ning, Mindoongie and I are so proud and happy for you. 🥹 Is it too soon to ask for a visit from the Y/N Y/L/N? We miss you…

[Y/N/N]: I miss you guys too. I’ll see.

[Y/N/N]: No promises tho.

[GA AERI 🤡]: I see, too big for us now huh big shots 🙄

You laugh, shaking your head at Aeri’s antics. You can’t help but miss the japanese girl and the other two clowns.

➽───────

Weeks passed after the song dropped, and Jimin finally found the courage to call.

Y/N didn’t pick up.

Not a second later, her phone buzzed—a message from Y/N.

She opened it, heart pounding.

[Y/N/N ❤️]: Goodbye, Karina.

That was it. Short and simple. Y/N’s message loud and clear. No baby. No babe. No love. Not even Jimin.

Never again.

Seeing Karina sent a chill down her spine. Y/N had never, ever called her Karina before. It felt strange, like the distance between them had solidified in that one word, a reminder of everything that had changed. Yet Jimin knows she deserves it.

And now, far too late, she had realized she lost the one person who had truly loved her.

Y/N looked out at the New York skyline, breathing in the fresh air of a new beginning. For the first time in a long while, they felt at peace—no longer defined by Yu Jimin or their past. It was their own story now.

This was only the start.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──

The end.

[bobasbn]

a spiteful rivalry

1k words | Xavier x Reader | Jealous Xavier, Reader is a little shit about: Lumiere is the new superhero who has a movie made after him. You become a big fan, knowing that your boyfriend Xavier is behind the character. Unbeknownst to you, he hates the attention Lumiere is getting from you. also on ao3: bobasbn a/n: wrote abt Xavier on my besties bday. Happy birthday to @koalayoo hehe

- A pearly-white suit, intricate silver patterns decorating the fabric. Purely cobalt blue eyes stare back at you behind the elegant argent mask, almost resembling a bird’s beak. You couldn’t help but gawk at the massive poster advertising the new upcoming movie of a local Linkon hero– Lumiere. 

He’s the picture of mystery and grace, people who were saved by the hero Lumiere claim that he moves at the speed of light, and that you can barely see him in action. One second is all it takes for wanderers to collapse to the ground, split in half by the unforgiving sword of Lumiere. 

“Why are you staring at that poster?” Xavier, your boyfriend, asks you as he gives you a gentle tug on your hand. Your attention snapped from the poster to your boyfriend, who seems agitated by your fixation on the poster. More so, your fixation on Lumiere.

You know that the real-life Lumiere is none other than the humble Xavier. He often fought under the guise of Lumiere, and his immense talent for fighting the monsters and saving the city had gained much traction from those who had been saved by him. You couldn’t help but feel proud that your boyfriend is basically the star of a movie, even though he seems less than enthused by your pride. 

“It’s Lumiere!” You point out. You wouldn’t say anything further, considering that you were in public. You add on, “don’t you think he’s so cool?” 

You could’ve sworn you saw Xavier rolling his eyes, his grip on your hand growing more firm. 

“There’s nothing special about Lumiere. He’s just a hunter like us,” Xavier grumbles. You trail behind him, eyebrows furrowed at Xavier’s little pout as he marches away like a petulant child. 

“Really? I think he’s pretty attractive. Especially the mask part,” you press on. It doesn’t matter if you’re gushing about Lumiere to Xavier, right? That’s what you think at least, considering they’re the same person. 

Your boyfriend didn’t take a liking to that. Not at all. 

You noticed that he was more silent than usual, as if he was a simmering pot. Is he… mad at you? You wonder what you’ve done so wrong to evoke such an attitude from Xavier towards you. 

Stopping in front of a claw machine, you poke Xavier’s cheek. Your finger digs into the soft skin only to be met with an icy gaze. 

“I want to try…” You mumble. “...The claw machine.” Your voice dies down beneath the weight of his intense stare. 

Xavier looks over at the claw machine to see what type of plushies lay inside. To his utter dismay, it’s a Lumiere-themed claw machine, one that features mini plushie versions of him as Lumiere. His jaw clenches.

“Are you sure you want that? I’m sure there’s another one with animal soft toys in there,” Xavier protests weakly. 

You only just notice the theme of the claw machine, however you double down on your desire to play the game. Claw machines are your expertise, after all.

“I’m sure. I want a mini Lumiere right on my pillow as I sleep,” you beam. 

“Sure,” Xavier mutters through gritted teeth. He takes the lead, stiffly maneuvering the claw inside the machine. You watch with eager eyes, thrilled at the idea of getting your very own Lumiere merch. You watch the claw’s movements, swishing right, left, forward then slowly lowering down. 

Down, down, down.

The claw closes, and misses. 

You groan like you just watched your favourite sports team lose a finals game. The claw had only caught onto the Lumiere plushie’s leg, moving it over a bit before ascending back to its place at the top. 

“Again, Xavier! Try again!” You chant, shaking his shoulder to persuade him to slot another coin into the machine so he can attempt getting his mini plushie again. Xavier follows suit, only to miss his next attempt.

He’s never been good at the claw machine, but you can’t help but notice that he doesn’t seem to be too irked by the fact that he’s missing his attempts like he usually is. It’s almost as if he wasn’t phased because he wasn’t bothered about the soft toy, or he’s missing it on purpose. 

“How are you so calm? Move, I want to try it for myself,” you order Xavier. He braces his hand beside the button, not willing to budge. 

“Do you really need a Lumiere plushie?” He asks, his velvety voice sounding calm with a hint of distress. 

“Yes? I told you already, I want to sleep with the plushie with me.” 

“What about me?” He suddenly poses the question. You narrow your eyes at him, perplexed by his inquiry.

“What about you?” 

“You don’t need a stupid plushie to keep you company when you can have your hot, dependable hunter boyfriend by your side,” Xavier says. You can’t help but place your hands on your hips.

“He’s not always available. Lumiere will always be there,” you remark. “Besides, what’s the big deal? I get plushies all the time.” 

“Not Lumiere ones. I can get you anything else.” 

Now you were truly baffled. 

“Are you telling me that you’re jealous of Lumiere? You’re jealous… of yourself?” You ask him. You always were aware that Xavier was prone to jealousy, but you never knew that it would reach these staggering heights. 

“I just don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with Lumiere,” he murmurs. His lips push into the slightest pout yet again. 

“It’s not just Lumiere. I’m ‘obsessed’ with Lumiere because it’s you. I’m a big fan of Xavier,” you assure him. You grab his hand, his larger fingers enveloping both of your hands in his warmth. You aren’t sure if your words worked, but that’s the best you could come up to tell him. It seems to have worked, because his eyes soften a little towards you. 

“And Xavier can teleport to your side whenever you need him,” Xavier says softly. His other hand comes up to run his fingers through your hair a little. 

“Will you come dressed as Lumiere?” You ask, hopeful. 

“What?”

“Nothing…”

- yeah he probably didn't like that.