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luvergirl-866 · 2 days ago

Text

something like love

part - 8

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 7.0k

c/w - angst, language

a/n - i am so sorry for the wait you guys, but i’m so happy to finally be putting this chap out!! i hope yall enjoy 😈

When Paige wakes up before the sun rises, she knows something is wrong.

Ever since she was a little girl, Paige has been a sleeper. While the other kids were fighting off naps, she was begging for them. While the other kids began bothering their parents during the early hours of the morning, she would be konked out until noon if her dad let her.

And then she met Azzi. Became her friend. Had their first sleepover.

And ever since that morning so long ago, when Azzi had shyly jostled her awake so they could get breakfast, Paige will not wake up early unless it’s Azzi doing the waking.

But this morning, it’s silent—eerily so. The AC is humming and there’s traffic noises from outside, but something’s missing. In Paige’s half-sleep state, it takes her a moment to realize what exactly it is: the absence of Azzi bustling around, getting ready for the day, calling room service to ask about breakfast options.

Paige cracks her eyes open, to find they feel dry. Shit, did she sleep with her contacts in?

No—she didn’t. She took them out as soon as they got back last night.

As soon as they got back. Tipsy and flirty. Paige, still too aware of the feelings brewing uncomfortably in her belly, asking if they should drink some more, just the two of them. Azzi, reaching into her pocket with a sly smile and pulling out a joint. Paige, thinking she looked so fucking beautiful, moonlit and blowing out smoke from between her lips. Azzi, confessing things, Paige, asking for more. Azzi, shy and giggly—

Paige, giving in to her urges. Letting the marijuana in her system cloud any rational thought she could have. Pressing their lips together and going lower, lower, down between Azzi’s thighs, watching in awe or wonder or reverence as she bared herself completely. Like she trusted Paige. Like Paige deserved it.

Carefully, almost as if afraid, Paige glances around the dark room. She’s on the edge of the bed, facing the window. Senses suddenly overflowing with something acutely familiar, Paige can picture the girl on the bed next to her, almost knows exactly how she’s laying without even seeing her yet.

Deep breath. Don’t get sick, Paige. Be normal.

Roll over. Onto her back, at first, to stare at the ceiling, and then, finally, onto her side.

And there she is. Lying on her back, the sheets bundled around her waist, one arm over her face while the other spreads out to Paige’s side of the bed—Azzi is breathtaking like this.

Breathtaking, and beautiful, and vulnerable. Oh-so vulnerable, while Paige lays beside her, fully clothed. No part of her bare, because she was unwilling to show herself to Azzi last night. She wonders why, now. She doesn’t really have to.

Cautiously, Paige reaches a hand out, brushing a strand of hair from Azzi’s face almost instinctively. Azzi doesn’t stir, and it emboldens her to move her hand lower, fingers tracing delicately over her jawline, down the line of her neck, to her collarbones. It’s only when Azzi does stir that Paige pulls away, reluctantly, because she’s not sure if she’ll get to see Azzi again like this.

And it’s that thought—the thought of Azzi waking up, naked beside a clothed Paige, angry and hurt—that scares her out of bed, ambling quietly over to her suitcase and throwing on a pair of running clothes. She glances furtively at Azzi while she gets dressed, but not once does she wake up, and Paige doesn’t know whether it’s relief or bitter disappointment she feels when she leaves the room without having words with the younger girl.

Paige comes to a stop outside the hotel, Google mapping a running route, and while she’s at it her fingers move of their own accord, navigating to her messages and then to Azzi’s contact. But as she stares at the screen, she can’t find anything to say. Seeing that their last text thread was from last night, she scrolls up to read it:

azziiii where’d u go

u been in the bathroom too long

shoulda let me come w you

for real we’re abt to play a drinking game come back

i’ve been gone for like five minutes paige

the line to the bathroom was long

u guys in the living room??

yeah

bro it was definitely longer than 5 mins

not letting u out of my sight again fr 🙄

ok drama queen

just missed me that much huh?

yeah and what

missed my girl

ok p chill

i’m omw

hell yeah we’re up

The conversation ends there, and Paige distinctly remembers it, how Azzi had left to use the restroom and Paige had sat there, talking to old friends and boring strangers, not even pretending to laugh at their jokes while she waited anxiously for Azzi to come back. And how when she did, she took a mental snapshot of Azzi’s smile when they saw each other, her dimples lighting up the entire room.

The memory, unlike all the alcohol-hazy ones from last night, is vivid. Too much so. Paige shakes out her limbs, stuffs her airpods in her ears and her phone in her pocket, and runs.

She hates running. With her heart and soul, she hates it. If ever she needs to take her mind off of bad things, she goes for a run, because almost nothing could be worse than the feeling of her feet hitting pavement, her chest hurting, her side seizing.

Today, it doesn’t work. Even with music pounding through her earbuds, memories come back to her in crushing tidal waves: Azzi sat on her lap on the couch, Paige’s hands on her ass, Azzi’s lips on her neck. The two of them pressed close together when they migrated to the kitchen, Paige wrapped around her from behind, listening to Azzi talk to a few other students. She remembers how at one point some guy had approached them while they were snuggled up on the couch and asked Azzi for her snap; remembers how she’d practically snarled at the guy telling him to go the fuck away, Azzi teasing her about it afterwards and asking, What if I had been interested? but there was a satisfied smile on her face when Paige only pulled her in closer, as if she’d known exactly the reaction she’d elicit.

She remembers the way they’d held hands in the Uber, and all the way up to their hotel room.

And maybe it was inevitable, their only option, really, to end up the way they did—Azzi spread out naked on a hotel bed and Paige situated between her legs, licking her clean after she came.

Paige doesn’t know why she asked for a second time. Even in her slightly cross-faded, pussy drunk haze, Paige recognized that it might be because this is the only chance she’d get. Because fucking your best friend once is a simple mistake, something the two of them can laugh about later, even. Fucking your best friend twice is a slippery slope.

Azzi had given her another one, even though she was surely overstimulated and tired. Paige never wanted to stop tasting her, but once they were done, Azzi whimpering above her, she got this strange feeling—a need for affection, maybe even comfort? Like she not only wanted sex and fun but also some emotions attached to it, too.

Paige shakes her head, tries to survey her surroundings, tries to enjoy the view of mothers walking their babies, friends going to early trips at the mall, people commuting to work. But with each pound of her feet, something new hits her and it feels like getting smacked in the face.

As Paige crawled back up to Azzi, as they whispered sleepily to each other, Paige didn’t acknowledge the heat between her own legs, didn’t think about how the fact that she wanted affection from a hookup is somehow a larger revelation to her than the fact that she and Azzi just fucked, and she of course didn’t allow it when Azzi offered to return the favor.

She could never ask that of her. So she lulled her asleep instead, holding onto her like she’s afraid she’d disappear—and maybe she was. She wouldn’t have blamed her.

The truth is, Paige thinks that this was a long time coming. Maybe she knew it when they were fourteen and fifteen and slept on each other on the flight home from USA basketball, after a few weeks of knowing each other. Maybe she knew when Azzi’s family invited her to the state fair for the first time and Paige won Azzi a prize before they held hands on the Ferris Wheel. Maybe she knew when she spent the entire summer at Azzi’s house, and they spent nights tracing shapes and hidden letters into each other’s skin, trying and failing to guess what the other was saying. Once, Azzi had written something longer than usual, and when Paige had been unable to guess, she’d begged for Azzi to tell her what she’d said. But Azzi had stubbornly shook her head, told her that was against the rules.

When it came Paige’s turn, she lifted Azzi’s shirt and traced three words into the skin of Azzi’s back. Azzi had always been good at this game, and so there was a long pause afterward, and Paige thought maybe something real was about to happen, but then Azzi had simply rolled over and said, “No idea.”

Paige didn’t believe her then. Doesn’t believe it even now.

If she’s being honest with herself (and she’s never been very good at that) things between them have always been electric, charged by small moments between them, things that always went unacknowledged because both of them were too scared to bring this sacred little thing they had out into the open.

Paige stops to catch her breath, a little lightheaded, clutching her sides in pain. Running has nothing to do with the ache that’s overtaken her or the way she’s finding it hard to breathe.

The sun is up now, and she walks off the sidewalk into the little park she’s stopped at, heading over to a large oak tree in the middle which will hopefully provide some solace from the morning heat. She wipes at her brow, and the shade helps, but her palms are sweaty, back of her neck still hot, and it might be from the memories of last night, the taste she swears is still lingering on her tongue.

It’s not long before her phone buzzes and she knows it’s Azzi before she even checks. She’s always been good at that—sensing when it’s her best friend on the other end of the line. It’s a blessing and today it’s a curse, because she’s nowhere near ready to face the hurricane of emotions wreaking havoc on her mind. She takes a few deep breaths after the phone buzzes, putting it off, afraid of what she will find: an angry message, how dare you; a heartbroken one, why’d you do this to me; the truth, you’re a bad friend, maybe even a bad person.

With one last steadying breath and trembling fingers, she pulls up the message, only to find four words, so non-threatening they’re almost vulnerable: Hey, where’d you go?

She should be relieved, but her heart sort of sinks a little more at that. She deserves the anger, doesn’t she? The heartbreak, the truth?

Leaning against the tree, letting the rough bark bite into her skin, Paige checks the time and types out a reply. Went for a run, I’ll head back now

But she won’t head back now. She needs some more time. So, she deletes the message and tries again. Just went out, want me to grab u some breakfast??

The answer will be no; Azzi is picky about her breakfast, will only eat a certain few foods and never store bought.

So, sighing, Paige sends a simple: Went for a run. Be back by eleven. And before Azzi can reply, she turns her phone on silent, shoves it into her pocket.

She wonders what Azzi is feeling now. If its anything similar to Paige’s train of thought, or more likely, worse: that maybe this was all a mistake, that they can’t continue to be friends like this, that last night was real and that’s really fucking scary.

If Azzi just woke, she’ll be needing more time to think things over. So, jogging back over to the sidewalk, Paige starts running again, further away from the hotel. Further away from Azzi.

—————————————

When Paige steps into their hotel room, her shoulders are tensed, breath held as she waits for confrontation. But with a quick glance around the room, she realizes she can put this off a little longer—the bathroom door is closed, running water coming from inside. She sighs, shoulders relaxing, and closes the door as quietly as she can.

But it must not be quiet enough. Because a moment later, the faucet turns off, and then there’s a set of slow footsteps approaching the door. Paige tenses all over again, watching in what probably looks like terror when the bathroom door opens and there’s Azzi, in a hoodie and sweatpants, braids tied back, eyes and nose a devastating shade of red.

“Hey,” Paige starts, a softly as her strained voice will allow, but to her surprise, Azzi gives a firm shake of her head.

“No,” she says simply, sniffling, looking Paige up and down. “Get in the shower. We check out soon.”

“I…I know,” Paige stammers, caught off guard by the way Azzi looks both heartbroken and angry. But, of course, she shouldn’t be. Not after what she did to her last night. Taking a tentative step forward, Paige tries to meet Azzi’s eyes. “Az, listen. I’m sorry about—“

“Stop,” Azzi hisses, stepping out of the bathroom, closer to Paige. “I don’t want to hear it. Not—not fucking now.”

Paige opens her mouth, but Azzi holds her hand up, swollen eyes flashing. “Get ready. We’ll leave once you’re done.”

Everything good and stupid in Paige tells her to fall to her knees, beg for forgiveness, take whatever anger Azzi has to give about last night. And maybe, a few years ago, she would’ve. But she’s never seen Azzi like this, and that alone raises enough alarm bells in her head to do exactly what she tells her to do, hanging her head as she sidesteps her into the bathroom, turning the shower on to cold to try and ease the burning behind her eyes, in her throat.

Leaning against the shower wall, Paige rubs a hand over her face, and wishes she were anybody else.

————————————

It’s one hour into the drive home that Azzi speaks to her—really speaks to her—for the first time all day. And when she does, it’s so unexpected that Paige flinches hard enough to jerk the car aside.

“Let’s go to the park, first. So we can talk.”

Once Paige has righted the car, she risks a glance over at Azzi to try to get an idea of what’s going through her head, but her face is turned away, gazing out the window.

Turning back to the road, Paige doesn’t respond. She just drives.

It’s a hot day but once they pull into the park an hour later, the basketball court is empty, and she’s barely stopped the car before Azzi’s getting out. She goes to the backseat and grabs one of the balls Paige keeps there.

“Az,” Paige says, unbuckling.

Azzi looks at her and slams the door shut. Paige watches her walk away through the window before getting out and following her.

It’s clear at this point that talking won’t get Paige anywhere, which is okay and also not: she’s bad with heartfelt stuff, anything too touchy-feely—it makes her uncomfortable; but talking is also what she does best. She’s never been one to stand in awkward silence or take it when she’s told to shut up, because she always has something to say and it’s why Azzi often affectionately refers to her as ‘my yapper’.

There’s nothing affectionate in the way Azzi looks at her now, nothing soft in those doe eyes, nothing sweet in the dimples borne of a scowl. Paige doesn’t know what to do with this version of Azzi.

After a moment, Azzi starts dribbling the ball, and the mere sound is enough to get Paige kneeling a little bit, body reacting before her mind can, ready for a game. But Azzi doesn’t pass to her. “You wanna play?” she asks tentatively.

Azzi stares at her for a moment, then slowly shakes her head. She drops the ball and it rolls a few feet away from them. “No. Not really.”

Paige nods. Shoves her hands in her pockets, then takes them out.

It’s a torturously long stretch of silence before Azzi says, “What are we doing, Paige?”

Paige looks at her best friend, but she finds she can’t really look her in the eye, and she hates that, so she looks at the asphalt underneath her instead.

“And don’t say we’re pretending,” Azzi continues when Paige opens her mouth to say just that, “because last night—that wasn’t pretend.”

The odd thing is her tone lilts up a little at the end, as if she’s asking a question rather than making a statement. But maybe that’s not odd because Paige wonders, too.

Trying to recall everything she thought about during the long ride here, Paige glances up, takes a small step towards Azzi. “I’m sorry.” She tries to sound both casual and heartfelt, but instead it comes out all raspy and choked, and she cannot cry right now. “For this whole trip, this whole thing—I shouldn’t have asked you to do this for me.”

Azzi inhales like she’s going to interrupt. Now, it’s Paige’s turn to stop her. “Just, let me, okay?”

Azzi’s brows are furrowed, but she nods.

Almost immediately, Paige regrets saying anything. It’s now, with Azzi staring at her expectantly, that she realizes she has nothing to say. She has been thinking about it nonstop, all day, and still she doesn’t understand everything going through her mind—the guilt, the fear, the feelings.

She decides it’s safest to start with the guilt. “I need to say I’m sorry. About last night…” she fumbles, tries her hardest to right herself, “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this for me. Shoulda treated you better, instead of taking out my shit with my mom on you. And I shouldn’t have let things get so…real.”

Azzi doesn’t react much. Her stance doesn’t change, expression doesn’t really waver. Eventually she steps forward, so they’re an arms-length away from each other. “Paige,” she says.

Paige shuffles from one foot to the other. “Yeah?”

“You’re sorry,” she reiterates, and Paige nods, a little confused. Fuck, she’s really never been good with words. “You’re sorry for—last night?”

Something inside her wants to correct Azzi, tell her if she could go back and do last night over, she wouldn’t change it, and she doesn’t think she’s ever had to act when it comes to loving her best friend. But she doesn’t say that, instead opting for something less weighted, more trivial—“And for asking you to pretend to love me.”

Azzi’s stare is flat for another second before her eyes widen, and she turns around, pushing her hands into to her hair and shaking her head. And Paige can’t see her but it almost sounds like she’s…laughing?

“Azzi,” Paige mutters.

Azzi turns on her, then, and there is a smile on her face but it’s bitter, nothing humorous in it. “I can’t believe you.”

It’s Paige’s turn to stare. “What?”

“Paige,” Azzi says slowly. Then again, “Paige. You left me this morning. You fucked me last night and then you left me to wake up alone and you couldn’t even look me in the eye all day and now, what? Now you’re fucking—“ two steps forward, and then she’s jabbing an accusatory finger into Paige’s chest, “apologizing about last night? About everything? Like it was all a mistake?”

Paige can’t help but take a step back, heart racing. “I don’t…I mean, exactly. We’re all weird now—honestly we have been since the first week we started pretending—and I don’t want us to be like that. I hate this, Az. I just wanna be normal again.”

Azzi takes a step toward her. “Have we ever been normal?”

That gives Paige pause. Hands, legs, intertwined; fingers creeping under shirts while they lay together at night; stealing glances when they think the other isn’t looking. All things Paige never let herself think about too hard, because it made her nervous, jumpy. And now, after so many years of buildup has finally come crashing down on both of them, they have no choice but to talk about it.

She has nothing to say.

When she’s met with silence, Azzi scoffs. “Even now, you’re too fucking stubborn to admit it.”

“What?” Paige nearly whispers. “I’m not being stubborn,” and she’s really not, “I just—things were good, between us. You’re my best friend and I’m trying to apologize for—for the way I’ve been acting, for being distant and…and rude, and for being a shitty friend and complicating things and—“

“I don’t care!” Azzi screeches, and it startles Paige into silence. “God, Paige, you are so fucking stupid sometimes. Did you ever stop to think about why I dropped everything and came to Montana for you? Why I let you kiss me and look at me and fucking go down on me last night?”

Paige opens her mouth, closes it, and something curls in her tummy, this coiling in her gut warning her of how dangerously close they’re getting to everything she wants to leave unsaid. “I don’t—“

“Of course not,” Azzi scoffs, and Paige hates the anger in her tone. “I should’ve known. Because you’re only ever thinking about yourself. Making sure everything you do aligns with your little moral compass to make you feel good about yourself—well, guess what, Paige? You did fuck up this time.”

Paige steps forward, trying to wrap her mind around anything else other than the way Azzi’s looking at her like she hates her. “I know, I know,” she says, pleading.

Azzi stands her ground when she says, “You left this morning.”

Paige nods, understanding now. “I know.”

“Why?”

“Because I needed—time to think.”

“And, until just now, you didn’t realize that might make me upset? Waking up alone after last night?”

Paige watches her, and seeing the way her eyes get shiny makes her own throat constrict. “I guess, no, but I—things were going to be awkward, and I felt bad, and I was scared.” She finally admits it, the fear, and it doesn’t do much to loosen the knot in her throat. “I thought it was a—a mistake.”

“Well I didn’t think last night was a mistake, Paige,” Azzi says lowly.

And it’s then—just then, seeing the way the tears threaten to fall but don’t, trapped behind the words she wants to say but can’t—that realization dawns on Paige. And it’s enough to make her chest constrict because, no, it can’t be true.

Still, like watching a car crash, Paige can’t bring herself to stop looking. “Why?” she whispers, already knowing the answer.

When Azzi looks up at her with a quivering bottom lip and nothing left in her eyes but heartbreak, it’s all the confirmation she needs.

Paige stumbles back, and Azzi lifts an arm like she’s going to reach out, but drops it helplessly as the first tear tracks down her face. “I thought—maybe, you knew. I thought you knew and you were acting the way you have been because—“ she hiccups like a little kid, and it breaks Paige’s heart, “because you were staring to feel the same. I thought, last night, there was something real. Did you not feel it, Paige?” she doesn’t give her time to answer before she’s continuing. “And now I’m wearing these clothes in this weather because I couldn’t stand to look at the marks you left on me and you’re standing here telling me you’re sorry for wanting to fuck me, and God, Paige—I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. I loved you since I was fourteen and I should’ve fucking known you’d end up doing this to me.”

“Azzi,” Paige chokes out, the knot unraveling and giving way to free-falling tears.

“Paige,” Azzi replies, and there’s desperation in her tone like she wants to reach out, but instead she wipes furiously at her face before crossing her arms, effectively creating a barrier between them. “I need to know.”

Watching tears stream down Azzi’s cheeks, it’s all Paige wants to do to comfort her, to wipe them away. But her own vision is blurring and Azzi has this look in her eyes—like she hates her, like she loves her and she hates herself for it.

“Know what?” she whispers, the sun beating down on the back of her neck in a way that makes her nauseous.

“If you—“ Azzi’s bottom lip quivers, “if you feel it, too. If you love me, too.”

When Paige blinks the moisture from her eyes, there’s a moment of darkness and behind it she sees every moment, every fucking moment where they toed an invisible line, only to never speak of it again, to act as if nothing happened.

She opens her eyes, and realizes maybe they’ve spent their whole lives pretending, and only really stopped when they were just supposed to start.

There have always been feelings. Always an intensity when it came to Azzi, evident in the way Paige would get jealous of any of her other friends, the blowout fights they’d have over small things, because they couldn’t talk about the big things.

Paige has always wanted Azzi as something more. But—love.

Love is so complicated and scary and Paige doesn’t think she’d even be that good at it, anyway. And what if they did this—addressed the feelings between them and dated, for real? Azzi would be perfect, like she always is. Kind and gentle and soft, and Paige can only exhale at the thought of having her best friend that way.

But she inhales deeply, and imagines how she would is. She’s stubborn, hard-headed. Bad with words, bad with apologies.

“Azzi,” Paige says for the nth time, the only word she knows anymore, so she says it like a prayer. “We did one thing last night and I couldn’t even do that right. I couldn’t do any of this right, this entire trip. You don’t—you don’t want me. Trust me. You don’t.”

“You don’t know what I want!” Azzi cries, uncrossing her arms to push again at Paige’s chest. “You’re not perfect, Paige, and I am really fucking mad at you,” she bites, “but you have no idea how much I want you.”

“And you have no idea how much that scares me,” Paige replies, eyes downcast, a few tears dripping onto her sneakers. “I’m good at being your friend, Az. Let me be your friend.”

Azzi lets out a sob at that. “Paige, please, I know—you have to feel something, you don’t act the way you do and not feel anything, I—“

“I’m not saying I don’t feel it,” Paige admits shallowly. “It’s just like I said. I’m scared.”

For the next few moments, there’s silence, and in it Paige hears the birds singing, the distant voices of kids laughing at the playground. But then there’s a sniffle, a scuffle of shoes, and she dares to look up only to find Azzi facing away from her.

“Okay,” Azzi says, voice cracking heartbreakingly. “That’s it, I guess.”

Paige clutches at her belly. “What do you mean?”

“After everything that’s happened,” Azzi whimpers, “you think we can just go back to normal?”

It’s stupid, but that’s what Paige was hoping for. But she knows neither of them can forget this, leave it behind. And she doesn’t know if Azzi can forgive her, either.

She wouldn’t blame her if she never did. Even though the notion kills her.

“I’m sorry,” is all she can say, but it’s weak, broken, and Azzi just shakes her head, not bothering to look back as she heads slowly to the car.

“I’m tired, Paige,” she says. “Just take us home.”

————————————

When Paige walks through the front door, the house feels empty—her parents are gone again for work—but when she walks into the kitchen she finds Lauren on a barstool, eating cereal and watching TikTok. Paige tries to slip past her but Lauren perks up, spinning around and grinning when she spots Paige. “You’re back!”

“Yup,” Paige says, trying for a smile.

Lauren hops off the barstool and as she walks up to her, she gets this weird look on her face, like she’s studying her—but then she’s hugging her and Paige breathes a sigh of relief. “You guys have fun?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where’s Azzi?”

“She’s, uh…out in the car.”

Lauren pulls away to scrunch her nose. “Why?”

“I dunno,” Paige says evasively, unraveling herself from her little sister’s arms. “Listen, I gotta headache, I’ma be up in my room. But lemme know if you need anything.”

Paige makes her way to the staircase, and Lauren follows after, the way little sisters do. She hears the footsteps padding behind her and remembers when she was a teenager, and Lauren was just a toddler, and their mom would always joke that Paige had a little shadow because Lauren would follow her everywhere.

Back then, it was annoying—and it is now too—but it’s also comforting, endearing.

Still, Paige gets midway up the stairs before turning around to face her sister. “I wanna be alone, Laur.”

Lauren frowns up at her. “Why?”

Paige picks at her thumbnail. “Don’t you wanna be alone sometimes?”

“I guess.”

“Well, this is like that. Just need some time.”

She takes a couple more stairs, but Lauren is still following behind her, and she turns around again. “Dude.”

“I wanna hang out with you!”

“I’m sorry,” Paige says, and she really is, guilty about the disappointment etched on Lauren’s face. “I promise we’ll hang later, okay?”

“Like later today?”

“I dunno, Laur.” The thought of doing anything but moping with her own thoughts sounds exhausting, and it’s evident in her exasperated tone. “I’m tired, we had a big night.”

“Really?” Lauren’s face morphs into a teasing smile. “Doing what?”

Paige fumbles, covers it by reaching to play with the cross at her neck. “Don’t, Lauren.”

“I’m sure you spent allll night kissing your girlfriend, didn’t you?”

Paige takes a breath so deep it’s nearly a gasp, for air, maybe, and she spins on her heel, taking the last steps two at a time. “I’m going to my room now,” she says, eternally grateful that Lauren doesn’t follow her this time. As a last thought, she calls over her shoulder, “And don’t bother Azzi, either.”

Once she’s in her room, she heaves against the closed door, looks around. They’ve been here eight days now, and it doesn’t seem like long but they’ve already left their imprint on this room: their scents mingling into the sheets, bed unmade, toiletries scattered in the bathroom.

In her back pocket, her phone buzzes. For a wild moment she thinks it’s Azzi, calling to ask if she wants anything from the coffee shop or to lay out their plan for the day, but she remembers quickly enough that Azzi has no reason to be calling her. With trembling fingers, she pulls the phone out, and is relieved to see it’s Drew on the other end.

“Hey,” she says when she picks up, plopping down onto the bed as casually as possible.

“Guess what,” is what Drew starts out with, and Paige smiles tenderly as she watches her brother give her an expectant look.

“Aw, I missed you, too,” Paige says, and when Drew’s expression turns to a scowl she laughs. “Okay, what?”

“You’re ’posed to guess.”

Paige sighs; she hates this game. “Fine. Um, Dad got us a puppy?”

“No.” Drew frowns. “I wish.”

“Lame. You’re coming to see me?”

This makes Drew frown even harder. “No, but I wish that too.”

“We’re going to Disneyland?”

“Aw, I wanna go to Disneyland!” Drew is downright pouting now. “Your guesses suck.”

“You didn’t gimme any context!”

“The heck is context?” Drew looks at her as if she’s the dumb one, but before she can retaliate he says, “Fine, I’ll just tell you. Dad said when you get back he’s gonna get us those shoes we wanted.”

“Shit, really?” Paige should be reluctant to match with her eight-year-old brother, but in her opinion he’s way cooler than most eight-year-olds. And also, those shoes are pretty dope. “Sweet. I thought he wasn’t gonna cave.”

“Yeah, I gave him my cute eyes.”

“Thought he said you were too old to be cute.”

“He was lying, I guess.”

Drew widens his eyes and pouts, the look Paige taught him when he was a toddler because if she was too old to mooch her way into things, her baby brother would have to do her dirty work. And it looks different now, without the chubby cheeks and missing teeth, but it’s still just as adorable as it was then. “You’re a real one, Drewski.”

“Mm-hmm.” They settle into momentary silence, Drew’s eyes wandering from the phone to something ahead of him—Paige thinks maybe his TV—and his gaze stays faraway when he mumbles, “I miss you, Paigey.”

Staring at her little brother over the phone—the little brother who’s her best friend, who has never been complicated or scary, who is taller every time she comes home from college—Paige’s throat constricts again, a constant ache beginning to form there from how tightly knotted it’s been all day. “I miss you, too. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Still another week.”

“Less than that.”

“Feels like forever.”

“I know,” Paige sighs, suddenly grateful that her too-old-for-emotions little brother is avoiding eye contact, because she can see her own nose and eyes growing red over the screen. “We got the whole summer together, though. By the end of it you’ll be sick of me.”

Drew shakes his head firmly. “No I won’t.”

Again, Paige sighs, trying her hardest to exhale all the feelings creeping up on her. “Me neither.”

“I wish I could come to college with you.”

Paige gives an exaggerated groan at that, causing Drew to look back at her. “No you don’t, I promise. It’s boring.”

“You go to parties every weekend!”

Paige looks at him in surprise. “Who told you that?”

“I have my sources.”

“Was it Ice?”

“KK, actually.”

“Yeah, well, KK’s a dirty liar. I’m way too studious for parties or any of that.”

“KK also said you kiss a lot of girls.”

At this, Paige gasps, downright scandalized. “I do not!”

“Well, she said that you used to, before you dated Azzi.”

Her very name is enough to yank Paige out of this bubble Drew pulled her into, and it’s like getting out of a warm bed on a cold morning. “I guess so.”

“Where is Azzi, anyway? I wanna see her.”

“Uh,” Paige hesitates—she hates lying to her brother, because they may be over a decade apart but they are each other’s confidantes—but she can’t just go telling the truth. Not now, and certainly not to a third-grader. “She’s out right now.”

“Out where?”

“The…gym.”

“But you always go to the gym together.”

“Well, I didn’t feel like going.”

“Why not?”

“Drew,” Paige says, a little too firmly, immediately guilty at the confused look in his eyes, “listen,” she says more softly, “I’m sure you can talk to her later, okay? Just not right now.”

Paige expects more complaints, but what comes instead is a bout of silence and then, “Are you okay, Paigey?”

Drew leans closer to the screen to get a better look at her, and instinctively, Paige pulls the phone away from her face. “Yeah, I’m all good. Why?”

“You just seem a little sad.”

Sad generously understates Paige’s state of mind. But, at the same time, he’s right on the nose, reading her incredibly.

“Promise,” she lies. “I’m good.”

By the time they end the call, Drew still seems suspicious.

————————————

When, ten minutes later, Azzi still hasn’t come inside, Paige peeks out her bedroom window. The car is still in the driveway, and the sun is glaring unhelpfully on the front window but Paige can just make out Azzi’s form in the passenger seat. She can’t tell what she’s doing—she’d assumed she’d be calling her mom, because she knows Azzi and when she’s hurt she calls her mom.

Paige has never made Azzi call her mom before. She is officially the very person she’s always hated: somebody who could hurt her best friend, so heartless and cruel she could make the unshakeable Azzi Fudd cry.

She hates herself for it.

Hates herself enough, in fact, that she almost wants to go out there. To apologize a million times over—something she’ll end up doing anyway—and to comfort her and to let her break that last barrier away, the barrier that kept her from saying yes in the park, the root of all her fears and inhibitions. To ask Azzi to give her a chance and to be brave enough to take it. To risk everything they’ve so carefully built over the years for something that could be even better.

But then, Azzi glances up. Paige ducks away from the window, wincing at the sound of the car door slamming.

The front door follows soon thereafter, and Paige presses her ear to the bedroom door, trying to make out Azzi and Lauren’s conversation downstairs. She can’t hear them, though—she can only hear enough to know that Lauren is doing most of the talking. And she doesn’t have nearly long enough to prepare when Azzi’s familiar footsteps ascend the stairs, coming closer to her with each rapid thump of her heart.

Paige barely has the common sense to back away from the door just before she comes in. And then, it opens, and they’re standing face-to-face, Azzi’s eyes red-rimmed and stone-cold as they avoid Paige’s.

“Hey,” Paige says hesitantly.

When Azzi doesn’t answer, Paige steps out of the way, wondering if maybe Azzi wants to come in, but she stays put. Her gaze goes over Paige’s shoulder, to the bed. She looks exhausted.

“You tryna sleep?” Paige asks. Azzi only shrugs, making a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat.

“Aight, I’ll…leave, then.”

Still, Azzi doesn’t move from the doorway. Finally, her eyes find Paige’s, and she holds them there when she says, “I think…I think I’m done, Paige.”

She’d implied it, earlier—That’s it, then—but hearing her say it out loud like this is a whole other thing, and it makes Paige want to double over. It’s instinctive, the way she reaches out to beg Azzi to stay, to let her amend for her wrongdoings and make everything right again, but Azzi flinches back and her arm falls limply to her side. “Okay,” Paige says, helpless. “I was looking at flights, earlier—I could get you one for tonight, or tomorrow morning, I know you prefer morning flights. But if you want good seats you might have to wait a couple days, but I could maybe call the airline and see what I can do? Just, whatever you want.”

Azzi winces, shaking her head slowly. “No, I meant—I’ll stay, for the trip. So your parents don’t get suspicious.”

“You don’t—“

“But after that,” Azzi interjects, “I think I have to be done. With you.”

Paige doesn’t react much, not outwardly—she takes a small step that’s more of a stumble back, and her eyes widen—but on the inside it feels as if she’s being ripped in two. “Azzi.”

“Don’t,” Azzi murmurs. She kicks at the floor. “I—we—need this. If we ever want a chance at being us again, we need space, okay? We need time.”

Paige stammers, so many words lunging up her throat but stopping behind her lips, creating a torrent so strong she can only make a weak, helpless sound. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“I don’t blame you,” Azzi mutters, looking up at her as she takes a small, tentative step forward. “You can’t help how you feel.”

Paige wants to scream at her, to say I feel it, too, to take her by the shoulders and hold her close and whisper, I love you, too—but she can’t.

So instead she says, “I wasn’t—I meant—I’m sorry. For leaving you this morning, for acting distant a couple days ago—for sending so many mixed signals, for being rude to you at the lake and for being mean when we got here—“ as she says it, it all becomes very clear to her, just how much she has managed to damage the trust between them in such a short amount of time. “It might not help, but I need you to know, you know?”

Slowly, Azzi nods, and her hand brushes against Paige’s arm. “I know you are,” she whispers. “I just—I don’t know if I can…”

“It’s okay,” Paige is quick to fill the silence, her arm burning from where Azzi touched her, “I know, it’s okay.”

Azzi bites her lip, and when her eyes trail back to the bed Paige shuffles awkwardly. “Hey, how about I sleep downstairs tonight, okay?” when Azzi opens her mouth, Paige stops her. “We’ll tell my parents that you kicked me out because I was—snoring too loud, or something. I dunno.”

“But won’t they think—?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Paige waves her off, stepping aside, relieved when Azzi finally comes in. “You deserve some sleep.”

She doesn’t expect her to, but when Azzi doesn’t protest any further, doesn’t say I can’t sleep without you next to me, it comes with a bitter disappointment.

She really, really fucked up this time.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa @router2260 @guesswhoitsn @patri-ots87 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @ijustreadignoreme @pazzilover101 @tropics43 @bueckersss @bigheadfudd @surferandskater5 @iknowth35nd @rhyxanwaters @graceinshade @azzilov

#lilah’s works #something like love #sll #pazzi #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #angst #wlw #fake dating #uconn wbb #wcbb #wbb

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just-a-ghost00 · 3 days ago

Text

Connection check in (part 1)

First of all, Happy New Year to you and your loved ones. May you be blessed. I hope that you are healthy and happy. This is potentiallt going to be a lengthy reading so bear with me. I will be using every single deck that I own. If you're interested, I will list out the names of all decks at the end of this post. Each group will have a picture of their spread. What I'm going to do is do a first section about your energy so that you can figure out whether you picked the group that's meant for you. And then I'll do another section about your person's energy.

Your current energy

A. B. C.

Their current energy

1 2 3

Energy check - Group A

As I'm channeling into your energy I feel a strong sense of exhaustion and a strong need to feel whole again. You're in a period of your life where you need your peace and space to heal from all the wrong that has been done to you and give yourself the love you had been giving to others. You are in a very feminine energy right now where you are prioritizing yourself and your inner peace. You are likely not dating anyone right now or if you are, the contact with the person is very minimal. You may be keeping people at arms length because you are tired of being disappointed and let down by others. You're guarding your heart strongly. There's a lot of heart chakra healing going on. You're also grounding yourself, learning to appreciate your own company. With all this green and blue in your spread I also feel a strong sense of peace. It's like you've accepted your fate. You're holding for your truth that maybe being single is part of your journey. Maybe that was something that scared you in the past but now you may be seeking that solitude. You are realizing that being alone will give you room to grow and expand, which you could not do while surrounded by the people you knew. In that quiet atmosphere, you may feel inspired to pick up a new hobby or to go back to something you used to do. You may be receiving more intuitive downloads. I see you walking away from conflicts that are not your business. Maybe in the past you used to get caught in people's arguments and had a hard time setting boundaries. It's like now you're claiming your power and saying "enough is enough", "this is not mine to bear", "I do not accept this as my truth". I feel like you are redefining your priorities and needs. That might be especially true regarding relationships. In terms of zodiac signs, I was picking up on Taurus and Leo. I also picked up on someone trying to work on their body image. Like, you realized that because you looked or appeared a certain way, you attracted a specific kind of people that did not match your expectations. And so you decide to work on that because you don't want to attract such people. I also feel like some of you are going through therapy, trying to change the way you perceive yourself. Like, growing up you were lead to believe that you were not beautiful or that you were not enough. And I see you working hard to break that cycle and learn to love yourself for who you are and that is the most beautiful act of love you could do for you. You can be proud of yourself <3 When it comes to the connection, I feel like you don't fully trust your person and may be feeling like they do not see or love you for who you are. You may be taking your distances with them, keeping to yourself. I don't feel like this is something you have openly discussed about with them.

Energy check - Group B

Looking at your spread, I get a very cheerful and vibrant energy. You feel quite optimistic and energized overall, but particularly, you have a lot of hope for this connection. You feel inspired and motivated by the person you're asking about. I'm getting more of a Piscean energy from this spread, as well as Taurus energy. Your solar plexus seems to be very active. This chakra is related to your sense of confidence as well as your drive, your will. I feel like though you may have doubts about this person or feel uncertain about your own feelings, your curiousity and attraction are taking the upper hand. You wish to explore this bond that you share and see where it leads because you have a lot of faith in yourself and in life. You're in a very balanced energy with a more pro active tendency. You are currently tapping into your masculine energy a bit more. You may be feeling all over the place and have a myriad of questions left unanswered about this person. But you chose to go with the flow and see for yourself where this leads, which is very brave and cool. I feel like this connection invites you to settle down a little and question your habits, your perception of life. Though it may be scary to some, it is actually thrilling to you. I feel like you are making an effort to see the glass half full and trust this person. There's a part of you that fears the other's opinion of you. You may be afraid of rejection. But rather than rolling up in a ball in your corner, you are taking an upfront approach by asking yourself : "What can I do to put the ball in my court?". I feel like you are consciously and purposefully gauging this person's reactions by interacting with them frequently. You're trying to put yourself out there and show yourself under your best light though it makes you uncomfortable. I see you being vulnerable with them, showing them sides of you that you may not show to others, trying to create intimacy and build that sense of mutual trust. I see you trying to understand this person more and become a version of yourself that would match their requirements a bit more. I feel like you're trying to find a common ground with this person by changing aspects of you that you don't mind modifying for the sake of this connection. Like maybe if you have struggled with addictions you are now doing your best to deal with them. If you used to party a lot and hang out with friends, maybe know you are trying to slow down a little and create more time and space for that person to be into your life. I feel like you are focused on trying to prove to this person that you are good for them by being unique in their eyes and standing out from the crowd.

Energy check - Group C

You're in a bit of a rebellious spirit. I get a "f**k this I'll do what I want" kind of vibe from this spread. With the combination of Obsidian, the page of pentacles, the Ask Body card as well as "treat yourself eat anything you want" & "What am I waiting for?", I got the feeling like you found out something about this connection that upset you or triggered you. Maybe your person has flirted with someone else or you heard that another person was interested in your crush. And that urged you to let your voice be heard. I heard "hear me roar". I recently went to see Disney's Mufasa to the theater and this spread really gives me Taka vibes. I will not dive further into this because I don't want to spoil anyone. But those who've seen it will understand. It's like you're saying "I'm done hiding away and being the second choice". If you're not dating, maybe you're feeling like it's now or never and you won't get the connection you want unless you actively manifest it. If you're dating this person, maybe you are thinking about uping your game, taking things further with them. I get a feeling of urgency, of "I've waited enough now it's time to take matters in my own hands". I get a very masculine energy from this spread. You may be spying on your person, trying to gather information about what they're into to make your move. Some of you may be trying to glow up, going to the gym, getting your hair cut, changing your wardrobe and such. Also, I get the feeling that maybe a lot of people around you are being nosy and trying to interfere in your connection and you're done with their attitude. You may be cutting ties with people. This may be very specific but I pick up on someone choosing to turn their life over and start anew and right when people of their past hear about it, they all decide to come back and try to discourage you or get things out of you. And you're like "for so many years you didn't even check up on me and now you know I'm doing good you want to hang out" kind of feeling. Or like maybe you've updated your status on your socials, showed a picture of the person you're interested in and suddenly everyone's trying to give their unsollicited advice or straigh on hit on your person. And you're like "hell no, this ain't gonna happen". I get a very defensive and fierce energy from you. In terms of zodiac signs, I'm picking up on Scorpio, Leo and Virgo.

Decks used : Crystals oracle, Threads of fate shadow edition, I don't care oracle deck, Soul truth oracle deck, Enchanted forest oracle cards, Beast Soul oracle cards, White Numen Tarot light edition, Spirit Junkie Oracle, Des potes en ciel Oracle

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #tarot reading #love pac #oracle cards

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uconnwbbcrashout · 1 day ago

Text

last winter break

chapter iii: “i think i’m gonna kiss you”

paige x azzi

word count: 6.5k

content: swearing, some fluffy banter, and a healthy dose of angst

chapter list: here

author’s notes: after a long wait, it’s finally here!! i wanna apologize for the 100th time for how long this took me to write. as you can tell by the word count compared to chapters i & ii, this one kinda got out of hand. but i'm happy w/ how it turned out and i hope it's worth the wait!! :) enjoy!

Winter 2022-2023

AZ: hey, i saw the news

AZ: about your acl i mean

AZ: i hope you’re doing okay p

p (IGNORE): thanks. good as i can be yk

p (IGNORE): surgery went well and all

p (IGNORE): but hey

p (IGNORE): delayed not denied right ?

changed user’s contact name to “p”

AZ: right

AZ: you’ll be okay

AZ: i know it

p: i hope youre right

*****

p: did you see the schedule

p: we play you guys

p: dec 11

p: well i wont be but

AZ: i did!!

AZ: you guys don’t stand a chance btw

p: damn way to kick a girl while shes down az

AZ: sorry?

*****

AZ: happy birthday paige

AZ: you’re so old

p: shut up

p: thank you azzi

*****

p: happy bday az

p: yOu’Re sO oLd

AZ: ok i had that coming

AZ: but thank you :)

*****

p: just saw the clip

p: hope you and your knee are ok <3

p: rest up azzi

AZ: thanks p

AZ: looks like we’re both gonna be on the bench next week

AZ: we’re still beating you guys though

p: well see bout that

*****

AZ: told you so

p: i couldnt even play bro

AZ: and i could??

p: whatever

p: we beatin you in march idc

AZ: sure p sure

*****

Azzi sighs, stretching her thumbs again where they hover over the keyboard on her phone. She’s laid out on her parents’ couch, legs propped up on a pillow, feeling utterly ridiculous as she tries to muster up the courage to send a text to Paige. She scrolls back up through their conversations from the past few months for what must be the eighth time today, overanalyzing every word.

It shouldn’t be this difficult, really—it’s hardly the first time this year that she’s been the one to reach out and text Paige. And she’s literally just trying to ask her if she’s going to a party. It’s an extremely low stakes conversation topic.

And yet here she is, practically ripping her hair out at the thought of pressing "send."

In all honesty, it’s a pretty good way to sum up what this year has been—so much more difficult than it ever needed to be.

And to say it’s been a weird fucking year would be an understatement.

After a disappointing tournament run in March, Maryland’s team changes significantly, so much so that Azzi has a hard time keeping track of it all. Graduations, transfers out, transfers in, new freshman—they're basically an entirely new team by the time the season starts up again in the fall.

And then she meets a girl, Maya, late one night in February when she’s cramming for an exam in the student union. She’s on the track team—a sprinter—tall, and devastatingly pretty. She’s unwaveringly confident, too, sitting across the empty table from Azzi and striking up a conversation with her easily. They end up talking for so long that night that the cleaning staff have to kick them out.

Things just click after that.

It's nice. It’s safe. It’s fun.

It’s sneaking into team housing well past curfew. It’s study dates at their favorite coffee shop on campus. It’s stolen hoodies and cold winter nights, huddled together for heat. It’s good luck kisses and lingering hugs before away games or meets. It’s late-night FaceTimes when there’s hundreds of miles separating them. It’s flower bouquets and greeting cards left on kitchen counters.

It’s something that feels a lot like the beginning stages of love.

And, above all, it makes Azzi happy.

There’s just one persistent, unavoidable problem—there's never enough time. Differing practice schedules. Basketball games and track meets. Press conferences and weight training. Midterms and March Madness. Conference championships and long flights across the country.

And it’s unfortunate, really, because a big part of Azzi thinks things could’ve been different. That maybe in another life—one where they met at a different time—things might have stuck. Things might have been long-term, could have worked out.

But in this life, they don’t.

After that it’s fairly quiet. Some random hookups here and there over the summer. A couple dates that fizzle out by the end of the night.

In the end, nothing she really regrets, but nothing that's as real as those few months were with Maya.

And then she reinjures her knee in December, forcing her to be sidelined. An unfortunately familiar seat on the bench with her name on it.

And then, of course, there's this weird situation with Paige. One that Azzi herself more or less created when she first reached out in August after Paige tore her ACL. It isn't like texting a stranger, but it also isn't like texting the old best friend she once knew. It's something in between, some strange acquaintance-like relationship that leaves Azzi entirely confused as to what she should or shouldn’t say.

Even if it is a bit strange, and maybe not quite ideal, she has to admit that it's still nice to have Paige back in some capacity. And enough time has passed, enough people have come and gone, that Azzi's just starting to warm up to the idea of someday calling Paige her friend again. Just a little bit.

Oh, and maybe Azzi also still finds her to be incredibly attractive.

But that's hardly relevant.

Her phone vibrates in her hand, catching her so off guard that she nearly drops it on her face. Her heart starts pounding in her ears, her stomach fluttering with anticipation—

Damn, it’s just from Diamond.

Azzi groans, clicking the notification.

d💎: you text her yet

Azzi rolls her eyes at her friend’s impatience.

AZ: almost

d💎: you’re actually killing me here

d💎: gimme her number

d💎: i'm gonna text her if you don’t

AZ: absolutely not

AZ: i regret telling you anything

d💎: no you don’t

d💎: now quit stalling and text. her.

AZ: oh my god FINE

Azzi swipes out of their conversation and taps back into her one with Paige.

Here goes nothing.

AZ: hey, you going to that stupid party again this year?

She turns her phone off immediately and slams it face down into the couch cushions, bringing her hands up to cover her face.

Her phone chimes not more than 30 seconds later, and Azzi half expects it to be another text from Diamond asking for updates.

But it isn’t.

p: yo

p: the one at that football players house??

p: maybe. ion know yet

“Oh my God,” she mutters, fingers already flying over her keyboard.

AZ: dude

AZ: it’s literally tomorrow

AZ: how do you not know

p: dude

p: ima busy person

p: my time is valuable yk

p: wbu tho

Azzi tries to fight the smile that’s forming on her face. She thinks for a minute, deciding to answer honestly.

AZ: i was thinking about it

Azzi watches with bated breath as the three dots on the screen disappear and reappear several times.

p: then maybe i will

Azzi sighs, closing her eyes and pressing the side of her phone into her forehead.

I’m never getting a straight answer out of her, she concedes.

*****

If anyone were to ask Azzi, she would argue that a cropped cami tank top with a pair of ripped jeans is perfectly reasonable attire for a casual house party in early January. The below-freezing temperatures are simply irrelevant.

It, of course, has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Paige is likely to show up tonight. Azzi doesn’t think about how Paige had hugged her from behind and mumbled, “Looks so good, baby,” the last time she wore this shirt in front of her. She also doesn’t think about how Paige always seems especially distracted when she wears her hair up in a bun like this, blue eyes constantly straying to the lines of Azzi’s neck and collarbones.

She absolutely does not, under any circumstances, think about that. At all.

Azzi just likes to feel and look good is all. She’s got the former down easily, and she thinks she’s managed the latter, too, if the number of people who have come up to her tonight is any indication. Guys, girls, people she recognized and people she didn’t—it didn’t really seem to matter. It felt like there was an endless stream of drinks being offered, numbers trying to be given out, and suggestive conversations directed at her. It was flattering, sure, but none of them had the right tint of blonde hair, the exact shade of blue eyes, the correct build of muscle she had been searching for all night.

She downs the last of her drink, crushing the plastic cup in her hands and tossing it in the trash can behind her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, checking the time. No texts.

Lifting a hand up to rub at her eye, she yawns and scans the room one more time, debating whether she should just call it a night at this point.

And then she feels it—the soft graze of fingers along her lower back, just above the waistband of her jeans. A warm, featherlight touch, then the familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood and a low voice in her ear.

“Azzi.”

She spins towards her quickly, her breath catching in her throat at the proximity of Paige’s face to hers, just inches away. Azzi leans back a bit, mostly to give herself a chance to breathe, and feels the hand on her lower back slide to lightly press on the side of her hip.

Azzi drags her eyes over Paige then, unable to help herself, taking in the tech fleece pants hanging low on her hips and the black fitted T-shirt straining against the muscles in her arms. Azzi’s a bit surprised to see that she’s wearing her glasses—it’s not something she does very often. Paige is smirking, her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and Azzi swears she must have gotten taller since the last time she saw her.

She manages to catch her breath for a moment, flashing a smile that she hopes doesn’t reveal the nerves that she’s feeling. “Hi, Paige.”

Neither of them seems to know what to do after that because, honestly, what are you supposed to do in this type of situation?

To Azzi’s surprise, Paige makes the first move, stepping into Azzi’s space and snaking her other arm gently around Azzi’s waist. It takes Azzi a few seconds to respond before she leans into Paige and circles her arms around her shoulders. Azzi’s heart rate picks up even more when she feels Paige’s breath being released heavily against her, the tension leaving her shoulders.

“This okay?” Paige asks, her breath hot against the outside of Azzi’s ear. Azzi hums in agreement, settling her head to rest on Paige’s shoulder.

It probably should be awkward, and it is for just a second or two, but muscle memory kicks in and it ends up being more comforting than anything. It’s a hug after all, something they’ve done probably hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the years.

They could be there for a few seconds or a few minutes—Azzi really isn’t sure. At some point she feels someone bump into her as they walk by and that snaps her out of it, makes her realize that they are still at this party and people are definitely looking. She takes a step back and clears her throat, patting Paige’s shoulder once before dropping her arms to her sides.

“You look good, P,” Azzi admits, smiling softly.

Paige coughs and looks over her shoulder for a second before turning back to face her and—

Is she blushing?

She coughs again before saying, “Thanks. You do too, Az.”

Azzi smiles appreciatively, looking down at her hands. “Couple people here seemed to think so, too.”

Paige chuckles. “Yeah, saw ‘em all lined up for you.”

“You been talking to anyone else here?”

“Nah, not really,” Paige replies, waving her hand, and Azzi glances up to meet her eyes. Paige shrugs. “Only really came here for one person, you know?”

Azzi doesn’t have to ask her who that person is—the way Paige’s eyes are trailing across her face tells her everything she needs to know.

“Is that so?” Azzi crosses her arms in front of her, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Mhm.” Paige glances around the room before leaning into Azzi’s space again. “Hey, wanna get outta here? We can go somewhere else or somethin’.”

“I guess I can swing that,” Azzi agrees, hoping she comes across as indifferent as possible.

“Aight, cool.” Paige pats her pockets, searching for her keys. “You take your car here?”

Azzi shakes her head. “No, I walked.”

Paige raises an eyebrow at her, an incredulous look on her face. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” Azzi tries again, patting her own pockets to prove that they're empty.

“You walked here,” Paige repeats, still disbelieving. “In this weather.”

“It was only, like, 20 minutes.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s better for the environment!”

“You’re insane.”

“Oh my God, can we just take your car or not?” Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Always the passenger princess.” Paige remarks, looking smug. “But, yeah, let’s go.” Paige beckons for Azzi to follow her to the coatrack. Paige holds the door open as they pull on their coats, both of the waving their hands over their shoulders as some people call out to them.

The short walk to Paige’s car is quiet, the occasional crunch of footsteps on snow the only sound. Azzi slips into the passenger seat and clicks her seat belt on, watching as Paige does the same in the driver’s seat. Paige drums her fingers quietly on the steering wheel, and Azzi glances out the window to look back at the house they just came from.

“So, uh, where to?” Paige asks, breaking the silence.

Azzi thinks for a moment before turning to Paige with a grin.

“Slushies?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

*****

“There’s just no way he said that,” Azzi giggles, readjusting her feet where they rest on Paige’s dashboard. They’re parked outside of Azzi’s parents’ house, heat blasting through the vents, SZA playing softly through the speakers, conversation flowing freely, half-drunken slushies melted and abandoned in the cupholders between them.

“I swear it’s true!” Paige promises.

“He for real told you that you have ‘the shittiest shooting form he’s ever fucking seen’?”

“On God, he did,” Paige laughs, running a hand through her hair. “Coach can be ruthless when he’s pissed off, man.”

“And you wanted me to come to UConn because?”

“Oh, c'mon, Az. You know no one can stay mad at you.” Paige reaches out and pokes at Azzi’s cheek. “Not with that face.”

Azzi pushes her hand away, flustered. “Shut up, P.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Whatever.”

A comfortable silence stretches on then, the two of them taking a moment to enjoy each other’s presence.

Azzi glances down at her watch. “I should probably get going,” she admits regretfully, turning around and rummaging in the backseat for her coat.

“Lemme pull up for you,” Paige insists, putting the car in drive and turning into the driveway.

She feels Paige put the car in park again just as she manages to find her jacket. “Thanks,” Azzi starts, pulling the door handle—

It’s locked.

What the hell?

Azzi yanks on it twice to be sure before turning to level her a stare. There’s a mischievous glint in Paige's eye that she doesn't trust. “So, are you letting me out or what?”

Paige keeps smiling widely at her, not moving or saying anything.

“Paige.”

Azzi watches Paige nod her head towards the front of the house, and Azzi follows the motion to see Curry and Stewie poking their heads through the curtains, their barks echoing off the window. Azzi shakes her head and glances back at Paige. “What is it?”

Paige shrugs, bringing her hands up to rest on the wheel again. “You gotta at least let me see my kids, Azzi.”

“Are you inviting yourself inside my house?” Azzi feels her eye twitching.

“Please,” Paige begs, and then she honest to God pouts at Azzi. “Think I’m due a visitation.”

“You are actually so annoying.” Azzi leans her head against the cool glass of the car window, closing her eyes.

“Is that a yes?” Paige asks, her voice lifting excitedly.

“It will be if you unlock this.” Azzi pulls on the door handle repeatedly.

“Ha, let’s go!” Paige exclaims, pressing the "unlock" button immediately and sprinting out of the car. She’s on the front porch and jumping in place before Azzi even has the chance to close the car door behind her.

“Alright, chill out,” Azzi mutters, brushing past her and turning the key into the lock. Paige pushes the door open the rest of the way and stumbles through the doorframe, kicking her shoes off. She makes it about five feet into the house before she drops to her knees and starts petting and hugging the two dogs racing around her.

Azzi locks the door behind her, and she can’t help the smile that overtakes her face when she sees Paige laid out on the ground, Stewie and Curry clambering over her to lick her face.

“My kids,” Paige coos, cradling Stewie in one arm and scratching Curry’s chin with her other hand. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s home now.”

Shaking her head, Azzi tears her eyes away from the scene and flops onto the couch. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and makes herself comfortable.

Paige stands up after a few minutes and stretches her arms above her head, groaning dramatically. Azzi catches a glimpse of her shirt riding up and her boxers peeking out before she pulls her phone closer to her face, fighting the heat creeping up on her cheeks. Paige doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she luckily doesn’t say anything about it. She moves to peek her head in the kitchen and the hallway before she reenters the living room.

“Nobody home?” Paige asks, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Azzi grabs a throw pillow off the couch and hurls it at her, but Paige catches it easily. “Stop. They went to a family holiday party thing I think.”

“And how the hell did you get outta goin’ to that?” Azzi feels the couch shake as Paige hops over the back of it and settles in across from her.

She puts her phone down and looks at Paige more fully then. “Like you said, no one can say no to this,” she explains, flashing her signature dimpled smile and pointing at it with both hands.

“I was jokin’ when I said that,” Azzi thinks she hears Paige grumble as she hugs the pillow she’s still holding to her chest.

Azzi goes back to scrolling on her phone, and she sees Paige throw the pillow up in the air and catch it a few times in her periphery.

She hears a heavy sigh, but she ignores it, opting to respond to a few texts from her teammates instead.

Then there’s another sigh, somehow more emphatic than the last, and the push of a foot against her own.

“Azzi.”

Maybe if I ignore her for long enough, she’ll stop, Azzi considers.

“Azzi.”

Just pretend you don’t hear her.

“Azzi Fudd.”

When has that ever actually worked, though?

“Azzi, please.”

Oh my fucking God, why did I let her in my house?

She clicks her phone off and drops it at her side, glaring daggers at Paige. “What?”

“Dude, I’m bored,” Paige complains.

“Dude, you literally do not have to be here,” Azzi points out.

“Entertain me, please.” Paige is practically begging now. “Aren’t you supposed to do that for your guests?”

Azzi closes her eyes and throws an arm over her face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely annoying?”

“Yeah, you. Multiple times today, actually.”

“I was so right about that.”

“Okay, but can we do somethin’?” Paige asks again, kicking at her foot. Azzi kicks back, sliding her arm off her face.

“2K?” she suggests, gesturing to the controllers on the coffee table.

Paige’s eyes light up and she’s up in a flash, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on. “Fuck yes. Imma be the Lynx, though.”

“Whatever you want.”

*****

“Damn, you letting me win now, Paige?”

“Bro, ‘course not.”

“What’s your excuse this time?”

“Not my fault you keep distractin’ me, Az.”

“Not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me, P.”

“Shut up. One more, I swear. Then we can quit.”

“Only if you win though, right?”

“Bro, just play.”

“Fine.”

*****

It’s many, many, games later—the clock on the wall having ticked over to the A.M. hours long ago—before Azzi has to tap out, eyes bleary and energy drained.

“Alright, I’m done,” Azzi sighs, tossing the controller on the coffee table and standing up slowly to stretch her back.

“Finally givin’ up?” Paige challenges, raising her eyebrows at her. Amazingly, somehow, she doesn’t look tired in the slightest.

“No, I’m not 'giving up.' I’ll literally fall asleep if we play one more.”

“If you say so.”

“Paige,” Azzi whines, pouting at her. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Aight, let’s be done then,” Paige agrees, setting her controller aside and standing up to stretch out.

“Are you awake enough to drive home?” Azzi questions.

“Me? Imma be just fine,” Paige assures her, moving toward the door. She bends down to pick up her shoes and pulls the curtain aside with a finger to peer outside. “Yeah, it’s no problem—oh, shit.”

Azzi strides over, reaching for the curtain to open it. “What is it?”

“Uh, well,” Paige starts, voice slightly muffled behind the thick fabric. “There’s a—”

Azzi grabs hold of the curtains, yanking them away to reveal the scene outside. Her jaw drops.

“—blizzard,” Paige finishes.

A fresh layer of snow, several inches deep, covers the ground. The wind lifts it up, blowing it around wildly, creating near whiteout conditions. Azzi can barely see Paige’s car parked in the driveway, a mere ten feet away.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Azzi mutters, staring disbelievingly out the window.

Paige furrows her brow, seeming to think something over for a minute. “Nah, I’ll still drive home.” She sits down on the recliner, untying the laces on her shoe.

“Like hell you will,” Azzi scoffs.

Paige looks up at her, pausing her movements. “Bro, chill. It’s, like, a couple blocks.”

But Azzi is persistent, moving to guard the door, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not letting you go out in that.”

“I can drive slow.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that,” Azzi retorts, readjusting her arms. “Just stay, please. It’s too dangerous.”

“If you’re sure,” Paige concedes, tossing her sneakers behind her.

“I am.”

“Cool,” Paige stands, stretching her arms again. “I got the couch then.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, punches Paige’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t be stupid, P.”

Paige brings up a hand to rub at the spot Azzi hit, wincing in mock hurt. “Ow. Stupid ‘bout what?”

“You can just sleep in my bed. You are a guest after all,” Azzi points out, referring back to what Paige had said earlier.

Paige wiggles her eyebrows for the second time tonight, and Azzi considers punching her again, harder this time. “You want me that bad, huh?”

“Oh my God, stop. Look, I’ll take the couch, you take the bed? That fine?” Azzi offers, rubbing at her eyes.

“That’s dumb. You’re not gonna sleep in your own bed?”

Azzi throws her arms up in the air exasperatedly. “What do you suggest then?”

“I’on see why we can’t both just sleep in the bed,” Paige shrugs, not really meeting Azzi’s eyes.

How the hell did we get here?

“Whatever, sure,” Azzi relents, even though every fiber of her being is urging her to do the exact opposite. “I’m too tired for this. My family is gonna be home soon and I wanna sleep at least a little before they barge in.” She turns away and starts dragging her feet down the hallway to her room, hearing Paige padding quietly behind her. She pushes the door open with her shoulder and immediately goes to her closet, searching for something more comfortable to change into.

In the corner of her eye she spots Paige, shuffling about the room, eyes roaming over her pink bed sheets, the assortment of unicorn stuffed animals on her desk, the rainbow decals on her mirror. “Haven’t really changed much, huh?

Azzi grabs a pair of fleece pajama pants and a T-shirt, chuckling. “I don’t exactly live here anymore.”

“Good point.” Paige nods her head, running a finger along Azzi’s trophy shelf. Her eyes spot one item in particular and she takes it off the shelf. She flips the medal over to study the engraving on the back. “‘2018 Minnesota State Tournament: Class AAAA Champions’,” she reads with a scowl on her face. “Still can’t believe you guys beat us.”

Azzi walks up to her and snatches the medal from her, setting it back in its place. “Still can’t believe you’re not over it. This was, like, five years ago.”

“Aw, c’mon now. That last foul call was bullshit and you know it,” Paige grumbles.

“I think you’re just mad I dropped 30 points on your ass,” Azzi teases.

Paige frowns, crossing her arms. “No one was helpin’ me on defense.”

“Uh huh. Look, I’m gonna get dressed and stuff,” Azzi calls over her shoulder on her way to the bathroom. She pauses in the doorway and points a finger at Paige accusingly. “No touching anything else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paige promises with a mock salute.

Azzi changes into her pajamas and gets ready for bed as quickly as her fatigued body will allow, which is to say not very quickly at all. By the time she’s done, she’s so drained that she’s sluggishly dragging her body back to her room.

She’s rounding the corner into her room, dirty clothes from the party in hand, when she happens to look up. She chokes on air, clothing falling out of her hands, and stumbles to regain her balance.

Paige is sprawled out on her bed, hair splaying across her pillows, the light of her phone screen lighting up her face.

But none of that is the issue here.

The issue here is that Paige is wearing a sports bra and pair of boxers and that’s it.

The lines of her hips are visible, her abs pulled taut, and Azzi suddenly feels like she needs to cover her eyes, unless she wants to start choking on air again. “What the fuck are you doing?” she squeaks out, hands covering her face.

She hears Paige laugh. “It’s hot as hell in here. I’on know why you keep the temp at, like, 75 degrees all the time.”

“So you had to take your clothes off?”

“It’s nothin’ you haven’t seen before anyways.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi leans against the wall, dropping her hands from her face but keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut. “Can you—God, can you at least put a shirt on or something?”

I’m not sleeping a wink tonight if she doesn’t.

She hears the bed creak slightly and assumes Paige must be sitting up now. “If I gotta.”

Azzi takes that as agreement and blindly feels her way to her closet, searching for the closest T-shirt she can find and pulling it off the hanger. She tosses it behind her in the direction of the bed.

“Okay, Imma get ready too then, I guess,” Paige is saying, the sound of her footsteps becoming more distant as she exits the room.

Azzi expels all the air out of her lungs, finally allowing herself to open her eyes. With shaky legs she makes her way to the bed, tucking herself under the covers. She takes a few more steadying breaths.

Pull it together, Fudd.

Paige is back sooner than Azzi is ready for her to be, but she stops a few feet into the room and gestures at her shirt. “This funny to you or somethin’?”

Azzi takes a moment to actually look at the shirt she unknowingly picked out for Paige and barks out a laugh, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

The shirt has "St. John’s – State Champs" written across the chest in bold letters, her old high school’s logo below it.

“Okay, I promise I didn’t mean to pick that one,” Azzi swears, unable to contain her laughter.

“I’on believe you,” Paige grunts, sliding into the empty side of the bed. “You know I’d get beat up if anyone saw me wearin’ this, right?”

“Good thing it’s just me then, huh?”

“Guess so,” Paige grumbles, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

“Don’t worry,” Azzi says, smirking. “Your secret is safe with me, Cadet.”

Paige glares at her before rolling over and turning her back to Azzi. “I’m actually done talkin’ to you. Night.”

Azzi turns her bedside lamp off, encasing the room in darkness, save for a few bands of a dim streetlight poking through her blinds. “Night,” she echoes, settling to lay on her back.

She wills herself to sleep then, waiting for the exhaustion she’s been feeling for the past few hours to finally take over.

It doesn’t come.

It shouldn’t be this difficult.

But Azzi’s mind is racing, all thoughts on her former best friend stretched out beside her. Paige, lying in her childhood bed, clad in one of Azzi’s old basketball T-shirts and a pair of boxers, the warmth radiating from her enough to scorch Azzi’s skin even from half a foot away.

“Hey, P?” Azzi whispers, her gaze still glued to the ceiling.

She sees movement in her periphery, Paige angling her head back slightly in her direction. “Hm?”

Azzi swallows hard, attempting to dislodge the lump forming in her throat.

There’s been one question turning itself over and over in her mind all day. A thought that wouldn’t leave her head no matter how hard she tried to shake it out.

God, this is such a bad idea.

“Did you have a New Year’s kiss this year?” she hears herself ask.

Everything is silent then, and Azzi can’t think of many other times in her life where she’s felt as vulnerable as she does now.

The quietness stretches on for an agonizingly long amount of time. It lasts for so long, in fact, that part of Azzi begins to wonder if Paige might have fallen asleep.

“Nah,” Paige mumbles, breaking the silence. She turns fully back onto her side to face Azzi, resting her hands together underneath her head. Azzi feels her heavy stare piercing through the darkness and shivers. “You?”

Azzi shakes her head, sighs, “Me neither.”

She moves to face Paige, mirroring her position, her heartbeat thumping wildly in her ears.

Azzi wets her lips, locks her eyes onto Paige’s.

Fuck it.

“Did you want to have one?” she breathes out.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting. Maybe for Paige to shove her playfully or smile at her or something like that.

But Paige brings her bottom lip into her mouth, waits a beat, then nods her head.

Oh.

She wants this, too.

Azzi isn’t sure which of them is leaning in, but suddenly Paige’s face is just inches from her own, her breath warm against Azzi’s lips.

“Are you sure?” Paige whispers.

Am I sure I want this?

Absolutely.

Am I sure we should be doing this?

Well...

Despite her doubts, Azzi swallows and nods her head.

Paige is the one to close the gap between them, hesitant, at first, and gentle, just the soft press of her lips against Azzi’s own. A tentative reunion, two aching souls finally coming back home to each other.

And then the kiss turns needy, hungry, and Paige is bringing a hand up to cup her face, sliding the other down to Azzi’s waist. Azzi does the same, tugs slightly to bring Paige to hover slightly over her. Paige is kissing her hard now, pressing her into the bed, exhaling heavily, making Azzi’s heart flutter uncontrollably.

Azzi makes a decision then, pulls back just slightly and uses her tongue to part Paige’s lips, shivering when she feels Paige sigh against her mouth. The action seems to spur Paige on further because she’s shifting again, slipping her leg in between Azzi’s, applying just a hint of pressure, building up a low heat there.

Paige is relentless, kissing her with such fervor that it makes her head spin. Azzi feels a thumb dip below the waistband of her pants, caressing against her hip, and for some reason that snaps Azzi out of the dizzy haze she's found herself trapped in.

Azzi breaks the kiss, lightheaded, because if she doesn't do it now she thinks they might never stop.

Paige rests their foreheads together for a moment. She leans back, shifts her body off Azzi’s, her pupils blown out and her chest heaving.

“There,” Azzi hears herself say, breath uneven. “Happy New Year.” Then she rolls away from Paige, heartbeat still erratic in her ears, shaking hands pulling the covers back over herself.

She feels the bed shift a minute later as Paige wordlessly turns away from her.

Azzi brings her fingers up to touch her mouth, the sensation still lingering there.

It’s hours before sleep finally finds her.

*****

Azzi wakes to the afternoon sunlight hitting her square in the face, and she pulls a pillow over her head to block it out. Groaning, she blindly sticks an arm out beside her, feeling for a warm body next to her to shake awake.

Her hand comes up empty.

She shoots up in her bed, panic swarming her as she scans across the empty room. Her chest tightens, her throat constricts.

Fuck, she’s gone.

Tears are just starting to prick at the corner of her eyes when the sound of boisterous laughter bounces off the walls of the hallway.

Curious, Azzi follows the sound, finding its source relatively quickly.

The sight is strange enough to raise Azzi’s eyebrows—her dad and Paige, seated on opposite sides of the dining table, laughing over empty breakfast plates.

Paige notices her first, nodding her chin towards her in acknowledgement. “Hey, Az.” She pats the chair next to her. “Sit.”

Azzi doesn’t move, eyes moving skeptically between her dad and Paige. “Hi. What are you guys talking about?”

“Oh, it’s nothin’,” her dad says, but the snickering between the two of them afterwards is saying something completely different.

“This.” Azzi points a finger back and forth between the two of them. “This I don’t like.”

“C’mon, we’re just messin’,” Paige assures, still grinning devilishly.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Azzi responds sarcastically, opening the fridge door and sticking her head in it, searching for something to settle her rumbling stomach. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Packing, I guess?” Paige replies.

Azzi picks her head up at that and closes the fridge. “Huh, why?”

“Got a flight to Connecticut in the mornin',” Paige shrugs, and Azzi’s heart drops to her stomach.

“You do?” she asks, failing to keep the sadness from creeping into her voice.

Paige looks apologetic, casting her eyes downward. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Forgot to mention it. Speakin’ of, I should head on out soon.” She stands, putting her dishes in the sink before clapping Azzi’s dad on the back. “Good to see you as always, Tim.”

He smiles up at her fondly. “You too, Paige.”

“Imma grab my stuff,” Paige says, brushing past Azzi into the living room. Azzi moves on autopilot, trailing behind her.

It takes Paige all of three seconds to get ready, having only really come here with her phone and the clothes she wore yesterday, which she must have changed back into at some point. Azzi watches her pull her sneakers on, shrug into her jacket.

“Guess this it then,” Paige starts, eyes looking anywhere but at Azzi.

Azzi wrings her hands together, trying to figure out where to go from here. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll see you around then, P.”

Azzi is going to leave it at that, moving her arms to give Paige a quick hug, but then Paige is grabbing her arm and pulling her in closer, lowering her voice. “Don't we need to talk 'bout somethin'?”

“Last time you said that you broke up with me.” Azzi pries Paige’s fingers off her arm.

Paige bristles at that, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously. “Okay, but still. We need to talk.”

“About?” Azzi asks, even though she already knows where this conversation is going. She looks at Paige expectantly.

“We kissed, Azzi. You don’t think we should talk ‘bout that?” There’s a crease between her eyebrows. “I mean, like, what does it mean, you know?”

There are two ways Azzi can play this. She can be honest, tell Paige that she lost hours of sleep over it, that it’s the only thing she’s thought about since she woke up, that it shifted her world off its axis. Can tell her that all those feelings she tried to push down have risen rapidly back to the surface, demanding all of her attention. Can lay it all out in front of them, knowing it could be months before the next time they see each other again.

And then there’s a second option.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Azzi is saying, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

Maybe it's time for the ball to be in Paige's court now.

Paige shakes her head exaggeratedly, her face screwed up in utter confusion. “It doesn’t?”

“Not unless we want it to,” Azzi continues, making her expression as unreadable as possible.

“Well, do you?”

Azzi hums noncommittally, looking down at her nails. “Probably easier if we just forget about it, right? I mean, it was only one kiss.”

There’s conflict painted clear across Paige’s face, her mouth opening and closing several times like she can’t quite figure out how she’s supposed to respond to that. She bites her lip hard, so hard that Azzi is a little concerned that she’s about to draw blood.

“I—I, uh,” she stutters, and Azzi can’t remember the last time she saw her look this flustered. “No, yeah. For sure. Just a kiss.” She nods her head once, like she’s trying to convince herself.

“Good, I’m glad we agree,” Azzi replies, even if she doesn’t really mean it.

Paige scratches at the back of her neck again, clearly not anticipating the conversation to go like this. “Yeah. So...maybe I’ll see you in March or somethin’?” She offers a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

Azzi shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

*****

She doesn’t.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics #lwb fic #i really hope you guys enjoy this one :)#inbox open tell me whatchu think

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xhazzz · 2 days ago

Text

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Rain Kisses

warning: none, just kissing.

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READERS’S POV:

“So… you’ve been going out with Hangman”, Penny teased me while we were getting ready for the bar to open on a few hours.

“In my defense, he’s proven he’s not like the others,” I said, laughing like a fool as memories of our last dates came flooding back.

“And what does your dad think about all this?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Come on, Pen,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I’m an adult now. I don’t need my dad’s permission to date whoever I want.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she said, laughing. “Your dad can’t really complain, considering he used to sneak into my room through the window back in the day.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Oh, God, Penny, I don’t want to imagine my dad like that,” I groaned, covering my eyes. “I just hope Hangman doesn’t open his big mouth and say something stupid that’ll get him grounded—or worse, punched by Rooster.”

—————————————-

JAKE’S POV

It had been two days since I last saw Y/N because of work, and I realized something: damn, I missed her. This girl was special.

“Excited to see your girl tonight, Romeo?” Coyote teased as we changed in the locker room.

“More than you know,” I admitted, sounding like some high school kid with his first crush.

“So it’s true, Hangman?” Phoenix chimed in, joining the conversation. “You’ve got the guts to date the boss’s daughter, even with Rooster as her big brother?”

“For God’s sake, it’s not like I’m scared of Chicken,” I said, laughing as I stuffed my dirty clothes into my duffel bag.

“And what does the boss think about all this?” Bob added, sitting on the bench.

“Come on, Bob, we’re not in high school anymore,” Coyote interjected. “I’ll just say it: Hangman hit the jackpot.”

Coyote and Fanboy started clapping like the idiots they were.

“So, how is she, you know, in…?” Fanboy began, smirking like a teenager.

“Watch your mouth, Seresin,” Rooster shouted from across the locker room.

“Relax, Tiger,” Phoenix said quickly. “If she’s Maverick’s daughter, there’s no way she’d let some guy like Bagman get in her pants.”

“I haven’t even kissed her yet,” I admitted with a sigh, slamming my locker shut.

“No way,” Rooster laughed, crossing his arms. “That’s my girl.”

“Not your girl, Chicken,” I corrected. “She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

——————————————

READER’S POV

Friday night, the Hard Deck was packed. I was a little disappointed that the Dagger Squad hadn’t shown up yet. I kept busy serving drinks and passing out bottles of beer when someone called out to me from behind.

“Hey, Y/N,” it was Rooster with his ridiculous mustache.

“Hey, Roo,” I said, stepping out from behind the bar to hug him. “I missed you. Haven’t seen you around lately.”

“That’s because you’ve been busy with Bagman,” he teased, playfully nudging my shoulder. “I don’t know what you did, but you’ve got that idiot wrapped around your finger.”

“I hope you’re talking about me,” said a voice behind Rooster. “Because I hope I’m the only one you’re dating”

“Oh my God, Bagman, that’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard,” Rooster groaned, wrinkling his nose. “Let me know if he gets out of line, Y/N.”

“I will, Roo, don’t worry.” Bradley kissed my forehead before heading off to join the rest of the pilots.

“I hope you and Bradley are telling the truth and there’s nothing more between you two,” Jake said, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles—a gesture he was starting to make a habit.

“Ew, never,” I quickly said, ducking back behind the bar and handing him a beer. “Bradley’s not my type. Besides, I’m more into blondes.”

I leaned on the bar and winked at him.

“God, you’re amazing,” he said, grinning as he took a sip of his beer. “What time does your shift end?”

“Too bad for you, handsome, I’m staying late tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll wait,” he said charmingly, walking over to the pool table.

The rest of the night, I could feel his eyes on me, and every time I caught him staring, he’d smile like an idiot. But eventually, I lost sight of him. Past midnight, Penny let me off since the bar had started to clear out. I grabbed my things and, not seeing Jake or the rest of the Daggers, assumed they’d left. The night was cool, and it looked like it might rain. Great—no jacket or umbrella.

“Hey, you,” Jake’s voice came from where he was leaning against his truck. I jumped, startled, and he chuckled softly.

“God, you scared me,” I said, relieved. “I thought you’d left.”

“I told you I’d wait,” he said, draping his jacket over my shoulders. It smelled like his cologne. “Need a ride?”

“Are you my knight in shining armor?” I teased, looping my arm through his.

“Your carriage awaits, my princess,” he said with an exaggerated bow, opening the door for me—just in time, as the rain started to drizzle.

By the time we reached my house, it was pouring. I was definitely going to get soaked just stepping out of the truck.

“Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant,” I said, leaning in to kiss his cheek as I opened the door.

“Wait!” he said, quickly getting out and running around to my side.

“You’re going to get wet!” I laughed as he grabbed his jacket and held it over us. He took my hand, and we walked to the door, getting drenched anyway.

I slipped on a puddle near the steps, but Jake’s arm shot out, catching me around the waist. We both laughed, soaked to the bone. His hands stayed on my waist, and I wrapped mine around his neck. His eyes locked on mine, and then they dropped to my lips.

“Still want that goodnight kiss?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Hell, yeah,” he breathed.

Without hesitation, I pulled him down to me. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of beer, and fit perfectly against mine. One of his hands moved from my waist to cradle my neck, deepening the kiss.

We pulled apart for air, but he dove back in, kissing me more passionately this time. God, I really liked this man.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant,” came a voice from behind us. My dad stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Goodnight, sir,” Jake said quickly, stepping back and grabbing his jacket to drape it over me again.

“Hi, Dad. We were just…” I stammered, feeling like a teenager caught sneaking in.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see anything, but we’re having a serious conversation tomorrow, Seresin,” my dad said before going back inside.

“Should I be worried?” Jake asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it,” I said, smiling like a fool.

I pulled him down for another kiss, his hands gently resting on my hips.

“Goodnight, handsome.”

“Sleep well, beautiful.”

He gave me a quick peck before heading back to his truck. I stayed at the door until he drove off, leaning against it with a ridiculous smile on my face.

“He’d better treat you right, kid,” my dad called from the kitchen.

“Here we go…” I sighed. I knew I was in for a lecture, but Jake—handsome, charming Hangman—was definitely worth it.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #jake x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman fic

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kruegerspillow · 2 days ago

Text

the look of love ; jayce talis pt.2

creators note: sigh i lowkey made this half awake so i hope this isnt too bad. still, i hope you all enjoy this !!

word count: 2k

warnings: reader is a Zaunite, Piltovans being a bunch of dicks and not proofread.

part one — part two — part three

Work.

His own work haunted him, always chasing him like a shadow; sticking onto him like a curse. He swore to act according to his reputation— the man of progress. But, despite the distractions: the gala, Mel, and Viktor— he can't ignore the people who won't stop breathing down his neck. It was frustrating, to say the least. Even the most sociable creatures get tired of the constant chattering, and today was no different.

Another gala, it was announced. Another, another and another. It’s the same every damn year.

But Jayce never complained. Will he ever? Probably not. He's now apart of the Council, anyway.

The bright lights nearly blinded Jayce upon entering the edifice. The chattering from others became clearly audible now. Jayce adjusted his tie, greeting one person to another as he made his way to the main hall. His legs moved on its own, easily squeezing in and out of the crowds.

“Yep, ah, yeah, sorry there.” He apologized almost awkwardly, stumbling through the horde of people here and there.

The people of Piltover, of course, looked at him with utter respect, having no idea how exhausted he was. His hands constantly trembled from the lack of sleep and his hair had started to be more disheveled by the day. His popularity was something that he’s used to these days, though he did not fully cherish it. On some days he even despise it. Jayce had always wondered how easy it’ll be to disappoint these people if he didn’t live up to their expectations.

“The Golden Boy of Piltover is here!” People whispered to each other with every step they took, gazes locked onto him as if he was some kind of God. They’d blindly worship the ground he stepped on, if they were asked to.

Jayce brushed off the praises and words, trying his hardest to not start another awkward conversation with these Pilties. That was, until he spotted you, in the corner of the room. You were sipping your wine, swirling it in your glass with a carefree look on your face. For you, the room smelled of polished wood and fine wine, a stark contrast to the metallic tang of the Undercity air. Even the way people moved here—graceful, deliberate—seemed like an art form.

Jayce’s heartbeat quickened, his face heating up like some kind of deer caught in headlights. He didn’t want to be seen like this, well, he didn’t have a reason to, did he?

“—Jayce?” A familiar voice called out to him, so sweetly—so soothingly, that he almost fell onto his knees like an idiot.

His head immediately twisted towards the source of the sound, just to find Mel, who’d been staring at him with an almost… confused look. One of her eyebrows raised as she took in the sight of Jayce.

“Ah, Mel, yes. You— you must be here for some kind of political favour?” Jayce asked abruptly, seemingly lost in his own world. That caught Mel’s attention. Political favour? Where'd he get that from?

“No… no, I’m not. I just wanted to converse, that’s all. Though, you seem to be busy at the moment,” she paused. “Whether it’s busy admiring someone from afar or busy with your own work, it doesn’t matter. So, if I may—I’ll bother you next time.”

He cursed himself in the inside, feeling his thoughts turn into a jumbled mess as Mel gave him a small nod of understanding, walking away to talk with other members of the Council. Jayce could’ve sworn that he saw that smirk on her face, and he mentally facepalmed himself. He made himself look like a fool—in front of the Council that he’s most fond of.

A small, defeated sigh left his lips before his gaze returned to you. You didn’t move a single inch from when he’d spotted you. The gears turned in his head slowly but surely, before he made his choice. It’s his chance to finally talk to you, ever since the day of his speech—and he won't waste it.

And like they said, one may die from curiosity.

He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before striding towards you. His steps were steady and calculated, a stark contrast to his beating heart. You looked… magnificent, though he won't admit it himself.

“Hey there,” he'd greeted you awkwardly, standing by your side with a small smile on his lips. Very out of character for the Man of Progress.

His sudden appearance nearly caught you off guard, causing you to look at him wide eyed. With that look on your face, he could only wish that he didn't give you the worst first impression of him. His shoulders tensed momentarily, taking in every detail of your expression. Was there confusion? Indifference?

“Oh? Council Jayce, fancy seeing you here.” You quipped, your voice nearly coming out as a purr.

“Yes, yes. Missing the gala would be… a very unprofessional move from one of the Council members themselves, no?” He chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing.

You laughed softly, “hm, fair enough.”

A few seconds of silence passed with only the sound of chattering from others present in his conversation with you. Sweat slid down his palm as he thought of a way to create a smooth flow for the interaction.

“And you are…?” He started.

You paused briefly, amused by the sudden question. The Man of Progress himself is right in front of you with the intention of... getting to know you? Surprising. Your gaze fixed on Jayce's, meeting his hypnotizing hazel eyes that nearly got you in trance. A soft smile tugged from the corner of your lips before you gave him your name.

“Great, it's nice meeting you.” He replied, his mind already chanting your name. “Sorry, where are you from?”

A sigh escaped your lips as you pondered about your answer, “the unpleasant Undercity.”

He noticed the shift in your tone as your gaze moved from him to the crowd of people around you. He'd heard about how differently the Pilties had treated the people of Zaun—it was something that's quite hard to go unnoticed, especially for someone like him. His eyes softened at the mention of Zaun. On the contrary, his muscles tensed beneath his suit.

Zaun wasn't a place that everyone was fond of. It was full of crime, very much unhinged people and so, so much controversy. Though ever since Viktor, his view on the Undercity had shifted a little. Just a little. He's no longer so… defensive around Zaunites, though his full trust wasn't fulfilled—yet. In understanding, he pushed the topics away, wishing to create a comfortable atmosphere for both you and him.

On the other hand, the abrupt silence was unnerving for you. In fear of making him perturbed, you quickly thought of a way to ease the sudden tight atmosphere.

“Sorry, I know it's not the best place to reside from.” You blurt out.

“Wait, no, it's alright, really. I know what it's like.” Jayce quickly assured you, “no judgement from me.”

You gave him a nod of appreciation, hoping that you could change the topic as quickly as possible. You raised your glass to your lips, the wine sliding down your throat with a burning sensation.

“So, how do you like the Gala so far?” He (thankfully) asked, pushing the previous topic away.

“... Loud, fancy, cheerful, you know? I feel like I don't belong here as a Zaunite,” you attempted a poorly made joke.

“Hey, don't say that." He jested, though his voice held a serious edge to it. “This Gala is not exclusive for Piltovans—well, it might seem like it, but no, it isn't. I know some Zaunites are... capable and worthy.”

“You really think so?”

“I've seen them with my own eyes,” he paused before leaning in. “You.”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you watched him, a soft look present in his eyes before he straightened his posture once again. Jayce could feel his own heartbeat quicken, not knowing why he'd made that risky move that could possibly shatter the upcoming bond between the both of you.

“Well, I'm flattered.” You admitted, “though, I'm curious. What makes you think that?”

“Seeing you in the Piltover Academy is enough.”

“Ah, so you saw me during your speech?”

He flashed you a nervous, toothy grin at your reply. He didn't think that you would make a remark about that. He gulped, shaking his head in disbelief as his face heated up.

“It's... It's hard to not notice, especially with unfamiliar faces, y'know?” He countered, his demeanor quickly changing.

A small laugh escaped your lips as you nodded in understanding, placing your empty wine glass aside. His shoulders slumped in an almost defeated way.

“I believe you, don't worry—”

A sudden voice erupted, “Councilor Jayce, tell us more about your upcoming inventions!”

The enjoyment from the conversation was quick to fade away as Piltovans, specifically interviewers, began to approach Jayce, overwhelming him with all kinds of questions about his inventions and the Hextech gemstones.

“What's your most complex invention of all time?”

“Why hasn't the Hextech company created a Hexstrap?”

Jayce was quickly crowded with questions, losing sight of your figure as the amount of interviewers gradually increased by the second.

“This wasn’t what progress was supposed to feel like,” Jayce thought bitterly, his forced smile faltering as the questions bombarded him.

He watched as people brushed you away as if you were nothing. Frustration bubbled up inside of him as his gaze shifted from one person to another. At this point, they were invading his privacy.

“I—uh, sorry, can't you see that I'm busy?” Jayce grunted, the tone of his voice was filled with hidden anger.

His brows furrowed as he made his way out of the crowd, leaving some Piltovans stunned at his small outburst. He'd never been seen like this—all worked up and hot-headed.

“Sorry, excuse me.” He murmured underneath his breath, trying to not bump into another interviewer.

His mood immediately dropped as he watched you from afar, your back turned against him as you walked to the exit. His eyes widened, almost pleading before he quickened his pace. He didn't care about the eyes that stared daggers into his figure. He kept his gaze on you before managing to catch up to you. Softly, he called out your name, causing your movements to halt.

“Jayce?” You called back, your voice softer than before. “You didn't need to chase—”

“Why're you leaving?” He unintentionally cut you off, his voice breathless.

You fully faced him, watching as his chest heaved up and down. Your eyes met his gaze, the confusion and desperation evident in his hazel eyes.

“Figured that I should rest, I have work to do soon, anyway.” You replied casually.

Jayce paused, disappointment seeping in. “I see. Right, right. Get some rest, okay?”

“Of course, you too.”

“If you don't mind, we can... meet up in the Hextech lab tomorrow? I'll—probably be there for the whole day, with my partner, Viktor. He's... he's a Zaunite, too. We can talk more tomorrow, come anytime, will you?”

The mention of another Zaunite working together with him piqued your interest. You took in his words, nodding along before making up your mind.

“Sounds nice, I'll see you there tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow.”

And with that, you withdrew yourself from the conversation. You shot him an appreciative smile, knowing that not all Piltovans were kind enough to even acknowledge the presence of a Zaunite.

His eyes softened, mouth agape as you turned your back on him once again. He didn't know why he felt so... drawn to you. There was something about the way you carried yourself—aloof, yet grounded. You didn't clamor for his attention or approval. You simply existed.

As you disappeared from his sight, he'd noticed the soft look on your face, hiding away the disappointment and hurt from how the Piltovans had pushed you away. His heart was about to burst, the frustration still present inside of him, because deep inside, he understood why the Piltovans had treated you like that—but he wished he hadn't. He shook his head in disbelief, and with a final murmur of your name, he dragged his body back into the Gala.

mini taglist: @blueorchid-rain, @sseleniaa

#jayce talis fluff #jayce talis x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis arcane #jayce talis #jayce arcane #jayce #jayce x reader #jayce arcane x reader #arcane jayce #arcane jayce x reader #kruegerspillow #arcane fanfic #sigh.. piltovans

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pigeonentity · 2 days ago

Text

i havent actually tried writing anything for this yet, i dont normally write characters younger than how old they are in canon but i can give it a shot

"My father said we shouldn't do this anymore," says Felix, holding the door open with a foot. "Maybe some other time?"

"You're just scared," Chloe tells him, pushing him in.

"My aunt doesn't like it either," he tries. "I don't want to insult her by lying to her again."

He hopes that one works, that he hasn't misjudged the relationship between Emilie and Chloe. Chloe's hard to talk to, bossy and burning behind the eyes, but his father wants them to get along, so he can't snap, can't refuse without an excuse, can't just walk away.

Still, he can't tell her that he's not scared. That he's stuck.

"You're lying," she says. "She told me it was funny. Besides, she can always tell you and Adrikins apart."

"I can't do this. I'm sorry, Chloe."

"But you always swap! You said you would!"

Adrien takes the door from him and locks it. He grips the handle against the banging on the other side.

"I hope she's not too disappointed."

"She'll be alright," says Felix, sitting on the bed. "What about you?"

"I get it. I can't disobey my father either."

"But you lost your chance to escape the city! You could have gotten away from your work for a bit. Maybe we could have pulled it off for good this time-- you could have run away once you got to London, and gone to school. You could have been a normal kid."

Adrien kicks his clothes across the floor. "Thanks."

"You shouldn't do that," he blurts. "You'll get them dirty."

Knock some sense into your cousin, won't you? Gabriel doesn't keep a tight enough leash on him.

Adrien glares at him. Felix tries to apologise, but his mouth won't open. He chokes on the word invisibly.

"Why didn't you visit last year?" asks Adrien.

"Father said we couldn't. I wanted to come."

"I hate him."

"Don't say that." Felix's fingers twitch. "He's your uncle."

Adrien groans, and flops down beside him.

"Chloe says you're worse than me about rules."

"Our parents just have a lot of expectations," says Felix. "She has too much freedom."

"She's our friend."

"She's your friend."

"But she's right. I love my father and my mum, but I wish they let me do things."

Knock some sense into your cousin.

Felix sees blood on his hands and flinches from it.

"Please don't say that."

"You know what I mean. You wanted to help me, you said you wanted to help me."

"I have to go."

Knock some sense.

"Felix, wait, you just got here--"

He unlocks the door.

"I don't want to wait another year to see you," Adrien tells him. "I'm sorry, I-"

He pushes past Chloe, who yells at him faster than he can catch. The corridors blur as he walks. He strides out the front door and is caught by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

He stops.

"It's time to go."

He exhales. There are twenty-one windows on Chloe's hotel that he can see from here. Nobody looks through them.

"Yes, Father."

"Did you enjoy seeing your cousin?"

"Yes, Father."

He sits in the car and stares forward, hands in his lap. He doesn't blink.

i think everyone saying 'felix hasnt been himself since his father died' when we first meet him is devastating

'hasnt been himself' he finally is himself, is his own. he isnt recognisable as the felix you knew, the felix his father could control?

how many orders had he given him?

#idk how this turned out i need to stop rereading things 10000 times it doesnt work

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star2fishmeg · 2 days ago

Note

do you have any luke recommends meg? I'm with nonnie I think most of my fav luke stories were by deactivated accounts 😢😢

Of course!! Firstly, shamelessly plugging myself lmfao and I have a rec list here that should have updated links now! You may have already seen these before but here's a few recent ones too!

≡ᴍᴇɢ's ʟᴜᴋᴇ ʜᴜɢʜᴇs ғɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄs ɪɪ

—sᴍᴜᴛ

♥ 25 of diamonds by @puck-luck ➥ Andy delivered with this. And I ate the blurb up once, twice, thrice and many more. Can't recommend her stuff enough but this one, this one did things to me that I can't explain. It was a req BUT it was defo personal and I still read it.

♥ finger sucking blurb by @wineauntie ➥ Hot hot hot hot, Luke's fingers + Ivy's writing is incredible. I frequently go back to this whenever I need a quick read while cooking or need to get an extra fix of delusion.

♥ thigh riding blurb by @wineauntie ➥ Yes, I know, always dropping Ivy in here somewhere but THESE BLURBS ARE SO GOOD! This one, oh, this one is just spectacular and just yes, wet. You need to check them out if you haven't.

♥ honky tonk flame by @bewaryofpity ➥ COWBOY LUKE! That's hot enough. This fic is just so smooth and charming, you get to the end and hope they meet again! I needed more. Just Luke in jeans and a pool table? Salivating.

♥ "i'm all yours" blurb by @jo-speaks ➥ Oh I do love a bit of sub Luke and this is so hot with y/n's lil spell of jealousy. Gave me literal butterflies, kicked my feet and giggled. Honestly, all these blurbs are so yummy so go check them all.

♥ home for the holidays by @puck-luck ➥I read this, like, twice a week? It's jam-packed and the concept is literally a pussy killer. No sex over xmas? Seems easy but NOOOOOOOOO not with Luke. The stakes makes it sooo juicy. It's shocking to believe but I do enjoy dom!Luke too.

—ғʟᴜғғ

♥ more hearts than mine - her family's Christmas by @withwritersblock ➥ When I tell you adorable, I mean it. I felt the stress on a personal level with this one and my God, the things I would do to live this. I really loved the sibling dynamic in this, it was real and how siblings actually behave towards each other. Devoured this.

♥ you are in love by @withwritersblock ➥ STOP THIS ONE IS SO CUTE! My tummy went all fuzzy when reading and it's just-oh God they're so in love it aches and y/n's friends are so funny with their reactions.

♥ his name by @cupidbedsy ➥ Tooth rotting fluff. Loser Luke having a crush and is so awkward and it's the cutest thing ever. I think about this fic often, and you should too. The pacing is so perfect and I just think the emphasis of his name on her back reassuring her support is beautiful.

♥ "i'll give you a ride, don't worry." blurb by @hischierslovergirl ➥ Um hello? Perfect execution? Yeah, this one may have been requested by me but the writing makes me kick my feet and giggle. The only way to describe the ending is with a chef's kiss.

♥ next step is love by @bewaryofpity ➥ Dropped TODAY and did not disappoint. It's so domestic and I always eat up the team banter. If you adore best-friends-who-aren't-really-best-friends then you'll love this one. A lot. Tooth rotting and so so cute, I'm speechless.

—ᴀɴɢsᴛ

♥ let it happen by @bratbarzal ➥ Maggie made me violent with this series. It's so raw and natural, devoured it from beginning to end. If you don't like being happy, this is the series for you. On a real note, it's so well written and there is never a dull moment with the drama and almosts.

#≡starfishmeg #≡nonnies #≡blog information

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barblaz-arts · 3 days ago

Note

First things first, I love your art!!

I was wandering through tumblr to see if there's any great chaggie fanart, but here it is! ❤️

I really love how healthy and supportive their relationship is, and I hope we get to have more chaggie screen time in Season 2(waiting for the "get it" moment lol)

What kind of Chaggie moment do you hope yo see in season 2??

I hope you'll get to post more chaggie art in future! Love your art, keep up the great work!! ✨️

Also, love from Korea~

Thanks!

Oh man, there's a lot I wanna see

- a chaggie duet that isn't a reprise. More than Anything was a good place to start, but it was wayyy too short. One of the things I love about Hazbin is that we get to have canon gay duets sung by talented broadway stars. The only musical wlw duet I know of is "Take or Leave Me" which is so so good, but it's a break up song. Steven Universe only has the one song with Rupphire, but Im not a big big fan of it, especially since Ruby's VA isnt really a singer(which is fine!). I want more gay duets that are declarations/affirmations of love and I'm sure chaggie will deliver.

-I also want Charlie to get to have a turn at singing about Vaggie like Vaggie did. I mean, we're for sure getting that bcuz of the "sexy pop song" but I also want Charlie to sing a ballad about Vaggie. If the teaser that we saw where the voice actors for Charlie and Baxter(?) sing some modified lyrics of Carnilla and Vaggie's "Whatever It Takes" means they're going to reprise it, then I really really hope that's the case. If this is just them having fun, im gonna be so disappointed lmao

While I still stand by my many previous statements that claims of Charlie and Vaggie lacking the display necessary to be considered a couple is ridiculous, a flaw I did notice is the fact that we dont get to see Charlie show how much she loves Vaggie all that much, which I think isn't the writers' oversight and more of a deliberate obstacle that they'd be facing in the upcoming seasons. I get it! Charlie's got a lot of shit going on, but she needs to be able to balance her work and relationships if she doesn't want to lose either her dream or her girl or both! Like, you know that trope where the workaholic gets so absorbed in their work that they end up unintentionally neglecting their lover, and when they do realize that they've fucked up, they do their best to make up for it in any way they can? I want that. I want Charlie's turn to apologize to Vaggie for fucking something up.

And idk how likely this is, but I think a really good opportunity to do that is to have Velvette come in and make Charlie jealous. If you didn't see my previous posts about it, I just noticed that the Vees all have these twisted love for a Hazbin close to Charlie that they also sorta parallel. Vox has an obsessive hate boner for Alastor, and they're both demons related to entertainment media. Valentino is Angel's abusive situationship, and they're both big names in the porn industry. All we have left is Velvette, who is the "backbone" of the Vees and seems to be the brains of the team, and the closest equivalent to that is Vaggie who is the manager of the Hotel and Keeper of their Braincell. Plus if Vaggie having died in the 2010s and Charlie being 200+ yrs old is still canon, Velvette can gloat about the fact that she's around Vaggie's age and is younger and fresher than granny Morningstar. You cant tell me that isn't something she'd do, since that was like the thing she kept throwing in the other Overlords' faces.

- Charlie hasnt turned demon mode for Vaggie yet, and I really want that. I dont just want what we got in the final episode where Charlie's glaring at Lute while she's holding Vaggie. Yeah ok that was pretty great but I want more! I want hellfire! I want claws! I want the feral, scrappy Charlie from the pilot pretty please!

- I want Vaggie and Lucifer bonding over Charlie. I dont think Lucifer and Charlie's relationship is completely "fixed" after the one duet they had, and I'm really hoping Vaggie gets to have a part in mending their relationship by having her interact with Lucifer. I also really want the narrative to explicitly acknowledge all the parallels Lucilith have with Chaggie

- I promise this isn't just the horny speaking, but I really hope Erika saying that "Charlie and Vaggie can get it, and we might see them do so" really means we're getting an explicit Chaggie sex scene. Hear me out! So far in season 1, the only explicitly r-rated scene we have is the fucked up one with Valentino and Angel. It would be really great if the next r-rated scene is one that is done out of love, and what better way to do it than with the protags in a canon relationship? It would show that sex isn't inherently a bad thing, and that Charlie clearly doesnt believe that either

- i really want more flashbacks about Charlie and Vaggie before they got together. I wanna see Charlie when she still hopelessly crushed on the stranger she saved in the streets. I wanna see how Vaggie reacted to the fact that she's an angel falling in love with Hell's princess. At the very least, they really should consider publishing comics that could add to the lore that the budgeted run time cant cover.

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blueberrypancakesworld · 3 days ago

Text

You are never a mistake

Dmitri Smerdyakov x betrothed!reader

warning : kissing, hurt/comfort, cuddling, emotional, abuse (beating), family problems

Summary : Dmitri thought for a moment that he would be accepted by his father, but when he felt the blow and his wife's intervention almost backfired, the Kravinoff son realized that he had to become strong, not weak. For his love, for someone who loved him as he was, he himself would stand up to his father no matter what a disappointment he was.

info : Finally the first one-shot for Dmitri the cute little beaten up bastard who just needs a little love. I hope you enjoy reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many couples around the world meet in cafes while they are both reaching for coffee, looking for life books in the library.

Maybe at a party or through friends, there are moments that last forever and are cherished when you find your partner for life, a relationship that becomes a marriage and an eternal bond with the exchange of rings.

Something that symbolized love and strength a bond when you had your own family maybe even about to start and then there were still the couples that met and a shadow seemed to lie over them forever, a shadow that had a name and didn't even seem to be happy for the love of their own child.

The first time they had met was in their music store, the best and biggest in New York, a store for the elite and those who could afford it.

An old family store that was the heart of every musician and singer from strings to wind instruments to keys and to microphones and stands.

A business that adapted to the talent.

Behind the counter, glancing up every now and then to greet the new buyers, she had seen him first, the slightly wavy blond hair, the cute nose, the little smile on his lips and the gentle demeanor.

The first time she had seen him, she had dared to leave her seat and come to him, seeing how he looked a little lost as he stood in the piano section.

She knew the feeling of being lost in a place you were interested in, not quite knowing whether to move or stand still.

The first time she had heard him play in her shop was the day she no longer saw her customer as just a customer, she saw his strength, his art, his beauty as he seemed to be absorbed in playing the piano.

There was a talent, a dedication in it and his voice, that voice she could have listened to for hours, made her hum along even when it seemed to be just the two of them in her shop.

,,A wonderful talent, really beautiful" her praise came from the purest heart...but for him, for Dmitri Kravinoff, it was the first time anyone had recognized him in what he was good at.

It was the first time for Nikolai's son that someone had inspired him in what he did and it was the first time that he lost his heart to her on the spot.

The day they exchanged numbers so that he could deliver the piano she had chosen to the club and also so that he could take her out for a meal at the end of the day.

It was on that day that two people had found each other and that only some time later it was more than just a relationship and fleeting dates, it was a bond between the two young people to whom the world was open...or so it seemed at first glance.

For the first few months it was like that, moving in together, partying, having fun, traveling everywhere, gifts that went from expensive to cheap to homemade and then to something more intimate the more they opened up and trusted each other.

The more she realized who his family was, what he was, but most of all what he had experienced, his ,,I-I understand if you hate me now...I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to leave” surprised her but most of all hurt her that he gave up on him so easily.

That her talented, precious, wonderful, gentle Dmitri, who kissed her on the forehead every morning, who did everything you could do with her and who dedicated every song in his club to her with such love and kindness, thought so little of himself.

Who had hurt him so much?

Who hurt him so much that every loud noise made him flinch, that he almost cried during an argument over trivial things and how he hated it when animal documentaries came on TV, little things she would have overlooked but with what she knew she just wanted to hold him in her arms.

Who had hurt him so much that he saw himself as nothing, which she tried to talk him out of every time ,,Dmitri my beautiful star I don't care who your family is, it's us who are together and not your last name” she tried to explain to him that he was the most important thing she had.

That her kisses and hugs, her words and gestures had the same loving effect as he had on her, that they had each other and when she threatened to kiss him every time he thought something like that again.

Dmitri finally seemed to find his smile again, ,,Do it," he just said, and he pulled her into a kiss as they lay cuddled together on the couch.

Together they gave each other the support they needed, Dmitri kept her motivation up whenever she wanted to give up with her msuik and she lovingly told him every day how good he was, that he was loved and above all that he was not alone.

The two of them in the club they had built with Dmitri's family money was their common pride, a club for the rich customers of the city.

A club where she could recommend her regular customers and the best entertainment was guaranteed with his piano and singing as well as her violin playing which made for a pleasant atmosphere.

Almost every evening, the two of them stood on the small stage and performed their harmony, ,,I dedicate this song to my beautiful fiancée,” he announced, while she joined in with her violin and the soft music amused the guests.

His blue eyes kept going to her, the smile was returned and she gave him a wordless ,,I love you” which he reciprocated, it couldn't have been better for the couple... until the moment when Dmitri's eyes fell on a man, a certain someone who came into his club and almost made the Russian play the wrong music.

With a hand movement that made the music continue to play by itself from the equipment hanging on the walls, and she saw how he smoothed out his jacket.

Everything will be fine, she thought he wanted to tell him, but he had already gone to his father, who had sat down in one of the recesses in the walls, looking directly at the stage from which she also came down to follow her fiancé.

Nikoali was a man of strength, a man you didn't want to mess with and yet there was no avoiding him, ,,Father, we're glad you're here, can I offer you something?” Dmitri asked and got a hug and a gesture she didn't get instead Nikolai gave the back of her hand a kiss and she gave him a quick friendly look.

It seemed that Dmitri was the only thing keeping her future father-in-law from killing her-what a luck.

But as long as Dmitri was happy and had his father, the two should get along, ,,I'll get a few glasses,” she let the men know as Nikolai gave his son a bottle of expensive wine.

A gift of value not from the heart but it made no sense to the son his father was here and happy that was all that mattered...so she thought.

It was just a moment when she pulled out the wine glasses in the kitchen at the back of the club, not wanting to take any more advantage of the waiters who had a long shift ahead of them.

The glasses in her hands and a smile on her lips, she heard the muffled noise and a crash, rushing back into the main room she saw Nikolai had pushed Dmitri against a wall, knocking over the table and no one was doing anything.

,,Dmitri! Let him go!” she shouted at the older man, afraid that he would seriously hurt his son, because the horrible stories that sent shivers down her spine told her everything she needed to know about the underworld boss.

Her fiancé's attempts to get free were unsuccessful, so without hesitation she picked up one of the glasses and threw it against the wall next to Nikolai, ,,Let him go and get out of our club,” she continued to threaten.

An empty threat that amused the dark-haired man, who was already lifting the next glass when he let go of his son, who slumped to the floor, barely able to support himself.

,,Even your bitch has more courage than you, shame on you,” Nikolai said to his son and walked past her with an appraising look, hurrying to her fiancé as soon as the door closed and he fell onto the nearest chair, ,,Are you all right? To the hospital?” she asked, trying to wipe the blood from his lip with a slapped hand from the blow his father had given him.

He looked terrified, as if all joy and hope had drained out of him once more, but he just shook his head before he simply poured out a tearful ,,You're fine” into her arms and she embraced the couple just lying in each other's arms for a few moments.

They held each other until Dmitri calmed down and his tears had stopped, the decision to close the club early was hardly one because it looked like a mob had gone wild there and not just Nikolai, ,,Your heart is too big for the world,” she told him as they rode back to the apartment together in a cab.

Her hand didn't leave his and stroking his head at least reassured him but the look in his eyes, she had never seen such hatred, whether it was just the confrontation or something else she couldn't say.

Whatever it was it seemed to keep him occupied the whole time no matter what they both did, no amount of embracing or kissing could break his blcik until the moment they lay in bed together.

She cuddled up to him and he gave her a good after kiss she couldn't shake the feeling that something else was going to happen.

Even though she felt safe in his arms, he stroked her side until she fell asleep like he did every night, usually soothing them both, the sound of the door opening and closing was something she didn't realize, didn't realize how Dmitri had to do something.

It was one thing when he was pushed around, he had been pushed around all his life but now that he had his fiancée he wouldn't let his father get away with it.

Knowing she was safe in the apartment sleeping peacefully, it was the Kravinoff who set off through the city at night to his father and it was only the clanging and rattling of cupboards that woke his fiancée from her slumber.

,,Dmitri?” the question came cautiously as she groped beside her but he wasn't there, but the sounds from the apartment frightened her.

No one had a key except for the two of them, pulling the covers aside she reached for the water bottle next to her bed, quietly and carefully venturing out of the bedroom, she saw the shadow in the hallway that seemed to be raging in the kitchen.

She should have called the police, anyone, but what if Dmitri was in danger?

She was ready to sleep with the bottle tighter if ever, she cried out in fear when she saw Dmitri, who seemed to be looking for something in the kitchen and looked completely exhausted, ,,What the hell? Dmitri darling what are you doing?” she asked putting the bottle down.

Seeing the torn clothes, the fuzzy hair, the black eye but most of all the bloody knuckles as if he had hit himself or better said as if someone had hit him.

Seeing what he had failed to find, however, she grabbed the first aid kit and went with him to the couch, ,,I well...I told my father never to insult you again and then there was a little altercation” he began to confess as she gave a makeshift dressing to his wounds which fortunately did not require stitches or hospitalization.

His courage touched her as she realized that he had pushed away the person he had once needed the most for her, ,,I've never loved you more and well...next time we'll both beat him up” she suggested and felt the kiss he gave her as they both laughed at the idea.

But in his eyes the look of gentleness and love was there again and not the hate ,,I love you too" he replied and she pressed a kiss to the bandage on his hand which should make the pain less.

At least Dmitri didn't seem to be in pain, not when they kissed, not when she continued to nurse him and he proudly told her how he had told his father off, and not when his hand stroked the engagement ring on her hand as they made love and finally seemed free of the gray of the Kravinoff family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ @tori111777 , @bel0ved-heretic , @amecchii , @xxxibgdrgons , @lordbelzeebub , @simonsrealwife

#kraven the hunter #marvel cinematic universe #dmitri smerdyakov #dmitri smerdyakov x reader #kraven the hunter movie #male x female #reader is female #fred hechinger

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agiiiiiiiiiiiii · 2 days ago

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Birthday Surprise

Hey there! This is my first time writing anything, and I hope it lifts your spirits after yesterday loss. Enjoy!

—————————————————————————

It was January 4th, Nico's birthday, and the day hadn't gone as planned. His team had just wrapped up an away game—a tough one that they'd lost after a hard-fought battle. You could tell it had stung more than he let on, but Nico was always a pro when it came to handling disappointment. As soon as the final whistle blew, he’d put on his game face, smiling through the frustration as he exchanged handshakes with his teammates and went through the motions of the post-game routine.

You had been pacing around the apartment, trying to stay busy, but your mind kept returning to the same thought: the news you were about to share with him. It was the kind of news that could change everything. And even though you were certain he’d be happy, there was still a sense of nervous anticipation in the air.

When Nico finally walked in, looking tired but trying to shake off the loss, he was greeted by the familiar scent of dinner you had prepared for him. You'd planned to celebrate his birthday, win or lose, but tonight felt different. This moment would change the course of everything, and you couldn’t delay it any longer.

He smiled as soon as he saw you, though there was a tiredness in his eyes, a weight from the game that still hung on him. "Hey, beautiful. Happy birthday to me, huh?" he said with a slight chuckle, kicking off his shoes and walking toward you with a tired but genuine grin.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your own composure. "Happy birthday, love," you said softly, stepping forward to hug him. His arms wrapped around you, and you could feel the familiar warmth of his embrace, a little more worn out tonight but still steady and safe.

"I’m sorry about the game," you said, pulling away to look at him. "I know it didn’t go the way you wanted."

Nico just waved it off, a little shrug. "It happens. Not every night is a win. But hey, I’ve got you here, and I’ve got my birthday dinner waiting, so I’m still good."

You smiled at his optimism, though the words you needed to say hung heavy in the air. There was no easy way to do this, but you couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’ve got something to tell you too,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

Nico’s expression shifted, his eyes softening as he took your hand. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice full of concern. His eyes searched yours, sensing something different in the way you were holding yourself.

You took a deep breath, heart pounding as you braced yourself. “I’m pregnant, Nico.”

For a long moment, the words hung between you, and the world seemed to slow down. Nico blinked, processing what you said. Then he blinked again, as if the information hadn’t fully registered yet. His eyes searched your face for any sign of a joke, but there was none. The shock on his face was palpable, and it felt like everything in the room went silent, save for the pounding of your heart.

“Wait… really?” His voice cracked, disbelief and awe mixing together. He took a small step back, his hands still holding yours as if to confirm you hadn’t just said what he thought you did.

You nodded, a small, nervous smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “Really.”

The moment hung in the air, and then, slowly, Nico’s face broke into a smile so wide, it was like the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders. “Oh my God…” he whispered, shaking his head, still in shock but filled with happiness. "A baby... with you... Wow. This is—this is the best news I could’ve gotten today."

You laughed nervously, still a little unsure of how he’d react to such a big surprise after a loss, but his reaction melted away any lingering doubt. Nico pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if trying to anchor himself to the moment, like this was all too good to be real.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice full of awe. “On my birthday… this is the best gift I could ever ask for.” He kissed your forehead, holding you close for a few seconds before pulling back to look at you again. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the truth settle in your chest. “I’m sure. And I wanted to tell you tonight, because… this is our next chapter, Nico.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” he murmured, still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe it. “I’m going to be a dad. This is crazy, but it’s also the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his love and excitement. "I’m glad it’s with you. I’m glad we’re in this together."

“Together,” he repeated, his voice full of conviction. "I’m all in. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We’ve got this."

———————————————

Later that evening, after you had both settled into the quiet rhythm of getting ready for bed, the apartment felt different. The excitement from earlier still lingered, but now there was a soft, peaceful energy in the air as Nico moved around the bathroom, brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas .You were washing your face, your reflection a little softer in the dim light of the bathroom, the coolness of the tiles grounding you in the reality of everything that had just shifted in your life.

You may had expected a bit more of a reaction from Nico when you first told him—maybe more enthusiasm, more immediate questions—but what he gave you had been genuine. Still, you could tell he had been processing the news, especially after such an intense loss earlier in the day.

As you reached for the towel to dry your face, you felt his presence behind you. His reflection appeared in the mirror, and you could see the way he was looking at you—his brow slightly furrowed, his lips pressed together like he was mulling over something important.

“Hey,” Nico’s voice was soft, his tone hesitant.

You turned to face him, wiping away the last of the water from your cheeks. “Yeah?”

“I just…” He paused, his hands resting on the counter, leaning in slightly. "I know I might not have reacted the way you wanted at first. I—I don’t know. I guess I was just caught off guard. But I want you to know that I’m excited. So excited, actually. I can’t wait to see you pregnant, to have a baby with you."

His eyes met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of how you were feeling. He looked vulnerable in that moment, as if he needed your reassurance. His voice softened, just above a whisper, “I’m sorry if it didn’t come out the way you expected, but it’s the truth. I’m just—honestly, I’m a little overwhelmed, but in the best way.”

You set the towel down, turning around to face him completely now, feeling the sincerity in his words. You reached out, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. "Nico," you said, your voice tender, "your reaction was perfect. I’m not looking for some grand speech or anything—just you being here, just being honest, that’s all I need."

He let out a breath of relief, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "I’m really glad you feel that way," he murmured. "Because this is real. This is happening. And I want to be there for you every step of the way. I can’t wait to do this with you."

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you leaned into his touch. "We’re going to be great parents, Nico. We’ll figure it out together. And I know you’re going to be an amazing dad."

Nico’s eyes softened, and he kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment. “We’re in this together,” he said quietly. “And I wouldn’t want it with anyone else but you.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a protective blanket, and for the first time that night, you felt completely at peace. The loss, the surprise, everything that had felt uncertain earlier—it all faded away in that moment. It was just the two of you, standing together in the bathroom, ready to step into this new chapter, hand in hand.

"I love you," you whispered, looking up at him, feeling his embrace as your anchor.

"I love you too," he responded, his voice full of the quiet certainty that had always defined him. "And I can’t wait to start this journey with you."

As you both turned off the lights and climbed into bed, the weight of the world felt lighter, replaced by the promise of something so much bigger. The future was no longer just a series of unanswered questions. It was a path the two of you would walk together.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nhl imagine

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 1 day ago

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I Want You Back

This was originally requested by Anon who asked: "Could you make headcanons where you have an established relationship with the Tokyo Debunker characters but your ex suddenly tries to win you back?" The links to the other houses are below.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Haru Sagara, Towa Otonashi, Ren Shiranami x gn! Reader (separate)

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You're happily in a relationship with the Tokyo Debunker characters. So how will they react when your ex suddenly tries to win you back?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haru’s pretty neutral about all this. Sure, he’s not happy your ex is trying to get you back but he’ll keep a level head and talk to you about things before he does anything rash.

Please, give him permission to tear into your ex though! He’s going to pull out the classic “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed” look and chastise your ex until they have no choice but to back down.

I think he might be a bit more protective afterwards though. He realises just how close he came to losing you and then he got to thinking about how sad everyone in Jabberwock would be if you left.

So if he’s a bit more clingy than usual or makes more time for you, don’t be surprised. He’s doing his best to show you how much he cares.

Your ex tries to take away Towa’s partner? Oh, jail for your ex! Jail for one thousand years! Seriously though, Towa’s not going to stand for this.

He’s pulling out all the stops to get your ex to leave you alone. Throwing poisonous flowers at them, making angry humming sounds, even calling on the weather to make their day that bit worse.

If you ask him to stop, he will but only while you’re watching. As soon as your back’s turned, Towa’s going straight back to intimidating your ex.

He wants to stay with you and make sure you’re happy with him as well. So he’s also going to double down on his displays of affection towards you. Hope you like flowers.

Ren’s a lot like Kaito in that he doesn’t think he deserves you. So as soon as your ex starts trying to get you back, he’s going to get super self conscious.

But he’s a lot more open with his jealousy than the others. He won’t tell you directly that he’s jealous but it’s super obvious from the way he sulks when your ex is around.

As soon as you tell him you don’t want to be with your ex though, he’s going to play it off as if he was never worried.

Even if you give him permission to tell off your ex, Ren probably won’t do it. He doesn’t like confrontation and would much rather spend that time with you than with your ex. Not that he’ll ever tell you that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

#writing #fanfic #headcanon #headcanon request #request #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #haru sagara #haru sagara x reader #towa otonashi #towa otonashi x reader #ren shiranami #ren shiranami x reader

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x--sinner--x · 2 days ago

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I love the concept of coincidental rape. Like just imagine being neighbours, but we found each other on a dating app. We talk and flirt for days, and eventually we reach the point of exchanging selfies and other spicy pictures.

And then one day I noticed something. In one of the pics you sent me, I could see my own house in the reflection. You took one right by your window and that's how I realized it.

With this newfound information I had to act upon it. I eagerly knock on your door, and you don't disappoint as you answer the door quickly.

"Hey, we haven't really met but I am your neighbour," I introduce myself, "and this is my house behind me. Can I come in? I would like to get acquainted."

I didn't know such a bombshell was talking to me on a dating app while being my neighbour.

"Yeah, sure. Please come in." The funny part is, as I am walking into the hallway of your house, you are texting me on the dating app. "Sorry daddy, but I have a visitor. I'll talk to you later. 💋💋"

And my phone pings with the notification you just sent me. While I know the cause behind the ping, you have no idea as it's just a normal notification in your eyes.

"Thanks for letting me in. You have a gorgeous house." I pause for a moment to take in the view and proceed to talk again. "And here you go. I wanted to bring you a gift to introduce myself."

"Thank you for the compliment... and for the gift as well. What is it?" You ask curiously.

"It's a pretty rare vintage wine bottle. My dad had a wine cellar and was an avid wine collector. When I moved here, I brought some of his collections with me, and I thought you would enjoy it. Wanna drink with me?"

"Aw that's lovely. And yeah sure, we could have a drink." But little did you know, I had put in a little substance to knock you out in a matter of seconds.

We both make our way to your living room, where sofas are arranged around a small glass table with some glasses. You use a bottle opener and pour some for both of us. We take seats opposite each other and I take my glass of wine and bring it up to my mouth, but I don't drink it. I waited patiently until you took the first sip and it wasn't long before that happened.

"Do you live here alone? Seems pretty big for you." I ask you a simple question, just to break the ice until you fall unconscious.

"Well, this is my friend's house actually. She has moved abroad with her family, and I was searching for a house and she rented it to me a year back." You take another pause to take a few quick sips and then continue. "Damn, this wine really tastes good. Great choi---- huh.. what's happe--"

The wine glass shatters on the ground as you pass out on your side of the sofa. I placed my glass back on the table as I had accomplished what I was hoping for.

I carry your passed out body to your bedroom and place you down gently on the bed. I whip out my phone and take some pictures of you - for keepsake purposes.

I slowly proceed to take off your clothes and look at you in all of your glory. You look much more pretty than the pictures you keep sending me in a teasing way. I couldn't hold it in anymore and I come on top of you and mount my cock next to your entrance and start thrusting it inside you.

Your pussy feels so tight even as you are passed out. Your breasts flop up and down with each thrust and when I look up at you, you look just like a dainty little flower. People might always look at your cute and demure side of you, but what I'm seeing now is a whole another side of you.

Your glowing skin puts infectious thoughts into my brain, forcing me to act upon them. I give into my desires, violating your supple skin and leaving marks as I go. I smell the perfume on your hair and it only makes me all the more feral. Your breasts are so milky that my hands sink in with every squeeze.

I take your breasts into my mouth and suck on it like a baby and it feels so good. I was picking up the pace with which my cock was moving inside your pussy. I grab onto your hips as I thrust harder, reaching further parts of your pussy with subsequent thrusts.

I think I overestimated my own resistance to cum, because it didn't take me too long, combusting all that pent up cum straight up her womb. I pull my cock out and see some of it dripping out onto the sheets - and it made me only want to continue. I pushed my cock back in her hole - in every hole in fact, taking turns - until I unloaded my cum several times in each one of them - and watching my cum drip out of every hole was very satisfying to see.

I took some more photos of you in that state, and sent you those pictures in the dating app.

"No worries baby. Here are some souvenirs of our first encounter with each other. Thanks for the return present. It was really lovely. Hope you liked all of my presents.

- Your visitor. 💋💋💋"

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slutty-a · 22 hours ago

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Well, everyone asked, so here's the...

Sex party experience ✨️

This was my full outfit (add black heels):

Here's how it went:

So, there was an international festival of erotic arts and there were talks and workshops... it was all super fun. They were going to end it with a party: secret location, wardrobe code, and all.

I asked my best friend if she was up for it, because I didn't wanna go alone. She read what it was about and liked the idea, so we got the tickets.

They explained the wardrobe code (all black, as kinky as each member would be comfortable, even full nude was alright), send the address of the location, and said what we could expect there: a dungeon, dark room, a shibari exhibition, places to party and dance and gloryholes. And, of course, a reminder of consent and all that, and to always ask first before engaging in anything.

My friend and I were super excited for the gloryholes, to be honest. It's difficult to find them or like engage in them under normal circumstances 🙊🙈

We got ready, and went to the place at about 10 pm? I had a small black skirt on, and a jacket so I could get a bit of coverage for the taxi ride hahaha We arrived, got changed at the entrance and put our things away.

So, in general, the problem was the place they rented. It was a gallery, and it was full concrete, so it was very cold. On top of that, they didn't adapt it to have chairs or anything, so there was no place to sit, except the floor, and it was dirty, on top of it. It ended up being super uncomfortable...

There was a space downtairs for dancing and music... the vibe wasn't there, though. No one was dancing, to be fair hahaha There was a place to get food and drinks, but not much variety. The shibari exhibition, though, that was like the best of it all. Doms could reserve times and get their subs up there, and give a show. And they really did, like 10/10 👏🏻 The best part of the night, for sure 😍

However, no dungeon, no dark room and no gloryholes 😭 So that was super disappointing, on top of not having a place to sit 💔 We ended up sitting on the floor, lots of people did, and damn, my butt was freezing hahah People kept walking around, but most spent their time at the shibari exhibition.

We ended up talking with some guys, and chatting a bit, but by 4 am we were bored, so we left.

I did find a brand that does parties in my city, and it comes recommended, so I'll be trying it this year and see how it goes. I hope it goes well and not like this one hahhaa 🤞🏻

#ask #about myself #my pics #attention slvt #attention wh0r3 #daddy's good girl #needy wh0re #daddy’s babygirl #daddy’s wh0re #free use doll #free use slvt #h0rnygirls #k!nk community #k!nky girl #k!nk blog #bd/sm community #bd/sm blog #spicy newds #spicy creator

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sucodelaranja86 · 2 days ago

Note

Wait whoops I js reread the rules n it said no gender specific IM SORRY LMAO😭

I dooo have another request for u tho since u said u wanna write!!

Could we get a Cho Hyun-Ju (yes another cuz I love her) x reader where we realize we have feelings for her n rant to it about to one of the players (maybe the old lady who gives us advice n teases) n dont notice that shes nearby, basically hearing everything we say until we notice n freeze up n then move away in embarassment which leads to us avoiding her cuz were nervous n dont wanna be seen vulnerable?

- gotcha!! : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader.

summary: you have a massive crush on your friend and don't know what to do, so you seek help. And who is a better help at giving advice than the elders? However, a certain someone also heard your little talk.

warnings: none.

genre: fluff.

A/N: YOUNG-MI LIVES YAAAY

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ "Please, you guys need to help me!"

Jang could only watch your absolutely flustered face while Young-mi cutely laughed by her side. Your request was unusual, and she was sure that if she somehow was starting to understand the youngsters, all of that effort was going through the drain right now.

"Di-did she say something a-about me?"

Young-mi only busted out laughing once more as Yonsik held his own. Jang could only hold an annoyed expression, while the other two were clearly having the time of their lives.

"How are we supposed to know, you buffoon! She is your close friend, not ours!" Jang said, her patience running thin.

"Don't be so mean!!" you protested with a huge pout on your deep red face.

After a good pause for them to laugh at your attempts of asking them about Hyun-ju, Young-mi finally managed to catch her breath. You have never seen the small girl laugh so much in her entire life (not that you knew her for a long period of time anyways).

"Maybe you should try talking to her personally, Unnie." she adviced you. Even if she still found the newfound situation incredibly funny, she still hoped the best for you and Hyun-ju. Both of you were good people who helped her when she needed the most, and she couldn't be more grateful. She really looked up to you two, and sometimes you felt like you couldn't disappoint her.

"Well, maybe i could give it a try. I wouldn't want to risk the friendship we already have. But, by the way, where is she?" you asked, confused on why she still wasn't by their usual spot already.

"She said she was going to the bathroom, maybe you should go after her! Ha!" Yonsik said in a teasing manner, but the idea didn't seem so bad to you. You hesitantly get up, ignoring Yonsik's teasing and giving Young-mi a slight pet, and only after heading to the bathroom.

However, as you crossed a certain turn in the mess of beds, you stumbled across no one other than Hyun-ju herself.

"Hyun-ju...?"

She was beaming red. Her usual composed manner fading slightly when she saw you. You could quickly tell she had heard every word that came out of your mouth.

" -i need to go."

"No, please, stay."

Both of you were trembling. In her case, it was anxiety. But in yours, you have never felt so embarrassed in your entire life.

Was she about to reject you? To end your friendship? To say that you were gross to even think about her in such ways, and-

"Can we talk?" she asked after recomposing herself, albeit not completely.

"We don't need to. I understand and accept it. I'm so sorry for even thinking about our friendship in that way, i..." for a long moment, you were at a loss for words. What were you thinking for even-

"I feel the same way. I have felt, for a long while."

. . .

Now that's what you weren't expecting.

"Could you- Hyun-ju, could you please repeat what you just said? I don't think I've heard you well."

"I love you."

"These 2 are taking too long in the bathroom! Do you think they-" he was quickly smacked by his mother before he could even begin to mutter another word.

"Let then be."

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

#cho hyunju #hyun ju x reader #player 120 #cho hyun ju x reader #squid game #squid game headcanons #squid game x y/n #cho hyun-ju x reader #squid game x reader #squid game x you

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the-mandawhor1an · 3 days ago

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Searching for the stars pt.2 | Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Summary: You come to terms with the fact that somehow, a Roman general ended up on your worksite. You and Marcus develop a plan to get him back home, or at least to reunite him with his wife.

Words: 7.4k

Tags: Time travel; wet puppy Marcus; Reader is a little horny; alcohol consumption; a hint of infidelity; talk about grief and loss; death during childbirth; angst; heartbreak; religious imagery; no use of y/n;

(further tags omitted to not spoil the outcome)

Speech in italics indicates that Latin is being spoken.

Notes: Well well, part two is finally here. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first one. Marcus is back and he's here to stay (or not, he wants to go home to wifey, after all)

Comments etc. are appreciated, thank you to @rivnedell for beta-ing this for me.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The next morning came way too quickly for your liking, even if you stayed on your mattress way past your usual time. The night had been very short and sleeping practically next to some stranger made your sleep anything but restful. It seemed you weren’t the only one dealing with the sobering realization that yesterday hadn’t been a weird dream.

General Acacius sighed in disappointment when he awoke on the couch. How he felt any kind of rested was beyond you, he had been tossing and turning and whispering his wife’s name all night, waking you up ever so often. To your luck, you could deal with little sleep as long as you would get some caffeine into your system.

Feeling miserable and Acacius frankly looking miserable, you had decided to bring him to your apartment. He deserved to freshen up a little and you craved the sweet salvation from this tiredness with the help of some coffee. Your guest was respectful and you had no doubts he would not do anything stupid in your little flat. After all, you could pretend like you had weapons all over your place. A remote, a laser pointer, anything.

Despite all the concerns for your safety, there was more you had to deal with. For example, you had to introduce him to a few concepts that were absolutely new to him, like the private bathroom you had. While in theory, what a toilet and a shower was, he would know, the way your accommodations worked was vastly different from the ones in his time. The toilet was relatively easy to explain, despite a little awkward exchange about the toilet brush that was in fact just for cleaning the bowl and not … the body.

With the shower, it was a different story. Hot water, cold water, playing with the handle to find the sweet spot and also… soap. In ancient Rome he would have been used to rubbing scented oils on his skin to get all of the grime off, and now it was scented soap. You apologized for only having floral shower gels, but then again, lavender and rose were at least scents he was used to. It was probably easier on his nose than any kind of soap for men would be. What did “active sport” or “cool ice” even smell like?

You handed him a towel and clothes you still had lying around from your ex, hoping they would fit, and then let him deal with the bathroom himself.

Seemingly, your little lesson in modern hygiene was enough, as he came out of the bathroom half an hour later, in your ex’s clothes. You’ve just finished making a simple breakfast, scrambled eggs and some bread, when he came over to you. The clothes fit. The dark t-shirt was a little tight, maybe too tight, as you could see the curve of his pecs so perfectly. Also, the grey sweat pants fit snugly and you did your best to not look to avoid blushing.

Coffee was ready and you filled some in your favorite mug, processing the sight of his wet curls for a second. “What’s this?” he asked and pointed at the mug. “Coffee,” you explained, he repeated the word and you nodded. “We drink it in the morning to wake up. And during the rest of the day because we’re addicted.” A second mug was placed on the counter, filled with a little and you handed it over to him. The mug suddenly looked tiny in his hands when he held it up to his face and sniffed. Of course, the scent of hot coffee wasn’t necessarily pleasant when one had never smelled it. When he took a sip, his face obscured and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It tastes disgusting,” he complained.

“Try mine,” you offered and handed your mug, which was about 50/50 mixed with milk and a little sugar. He took another sip and while it looked like he didn’t enjoy that one either, his face wasn’t contorted as much. “It’s better.” You pulled milk from the fridge and offered him some sugar. In the end his coffee looked to be 80 percent milk and a lot of sugar, but he drank it, so what did it matter.

“Sit down,” you ordered him to sit at the table and set down two plates with the egg and bread. It was probably something that was easier for him to stomach than any other food you could’ve offered. “Eggs and bread?” he asked and you nodded. “The coffee is enough of a adventure for you right now. And the clothes.” “They’re so tight.” “My last partner practically lived in these,” you explained with a shrug. “Where is he? Did he die?”

“No, he just left. We had a lot of arguments and he didn’t want to stay.” Before it would go cold, you started eating your egg. It wasn’t a lot, but enough to give you a bit of energy to think about what to do today. That was, if Marcus was done with his interview. “Why did you fight?” “My work. It was important to me and he thought it was cute at first, but he realised it was my priority and he didn’t want that.”

Marcus nodded and took a sip of his ‘anything but coffee’. It felt weirdly domestic to sit here and eat with him, especially so because he was so relaxed about all of this. Sure, conversing in Latin was weird, but it wasn’t like you were forced to speak a lot of Italian around here either way. It wasn’t too far off.

“I saw the wall. When did your obsession start?” When was the last time someone was actually interested in something you did? You took another sip of coffee and then you told him in short. How you’ve been obsessed with Rome ever since you could remember. In the beginning it just seemed you never outgrow the ancient Egypt and Rome phase every child had at one point. One of your earliest dream jobs has been archeology. Every weekend you were at museums, every family trip had to be planned around to see the exhibitions there. Once old enough, you worked in the local museum, mostly administrative work but it helped you with getting into contact with other scholars. Also, you could spend your breaks in the exhibitions and just daydream a little. When it came to getting a degree, you studied classical Latin and archeology.

During your first year of university, they found a bust of him. It was only halfway there, it missed the face, but judging by the armor they could tell it must’ve been a general or a high-ranking officer in the Roman military. A copy of said bust had been in your museum for a while and you were mesmerized by it. It was a little later, midway into your studies, when they stumbled upon the name Acacius so often that they were pretty much certain ‘the General’ was Acacius. You became so obsessed with him, a general that history had almost forgotten, and you wanted to be part of the group that would unveil the mystery about him. Your professors were so exhausted with your antics by the time you had your degree, but this incessant interest is what made you land the job as an archeologist in the end.

“Why me?” he asked when you were done with your little story, and you shrugged. “You fascinated me. In the beginning it was the mystery around you and your life, also the prestige one would earn from finding more out about you. And then more was found, especially your obsession with starlight, it just… caught me.” He nodded. “It was our little inside joke because of her name.” “I know… I know. It developed into an obsession, the modern times are so boring compared to the Roman Empire. But… look how far I’ve made it. I found your villa.” “and me” A mischievous yet so attractive grin crept up to his lips and there wasn’t much you could do, you had to mirror it. “That came as a surprise.” “How much of the house have you found? What about the rest of the estate?”

You got up to get yourself some water. “We’re still on the lookout, why?” His eyebrows twitched and head dipped down. “I had a dream about my wife…” and as soon as these words left his lips, you were reminded that Marcus wasn’t just a handsome stranger you had met yesterday and had breakfast with right now. He was a grieving husband who was stuck in a different time. “She called out for me and told me she was waiting.” “Did she tell you where?” “Where she was laid to rest”

You fell silent for a bit. While you had daydreamed about meeting Marcus before, this was real. It felt weird to just have him sit at your table, in your ex’s clothes, talking to you like you were coworkers. You wanted to help him reunite with his wife, but also – you didn’t want him to go. There was the man you had been reading about for such a long time that it ruined your relationship, and there were so many questions he could answer now. You left your home to be part of this excavation. And yet you didn’t know …

“We have no documentation where she was buried. Also, most of the cemeteries didn’t survive all of this time.” Guilt washed over you. Here you were, one of the most knowledgeable people on Acacius’s life, but you didn’t know where they kept Astra’s remains. “She was buried where I proposed to her. There was a very old tree on my estate. We would go there and look at the stars.”

“Damn,” came out of you, unable to stop it. Marcus was like straight out of fiction, it seemed. A hopeless romantic. It really made your heart flutter. “Pardon?” “My apologies. It will just be very hard to find a tree that hasn’t been there in over a thousand years. With buildings we might find documentation, but trees? I doubt any map we can find would have accurate plant placement.”

Again, his face contorted as if you had just declined his marriage proposal. “I’m sorry, I just miss her so much.” It stung. You barely knew him but his pain was palpable. With a sigh you walked over to your table and leaned in, stretched out your arm and raised your pinkie in front of his view. “Do what I do.” He did and you hooked his pinkie with yours. “I promise I will do everything in my power to help you find her. Your pain must be bad. I can’t imagine what it must feel like but your face tells me enough.” He flexed his pinkie just a bit and dear God, that man was strong. “It’s unbearable at times. I’d rather be dead sometimes.” Strong, and intense, it seemed.

The pinkies unhooked and you took the dirty dishes to put them into the sink. Marcus wasn’t done with the topic, however. Your promise to help was one thing, but he had something on his mind. “Can’t I help you?” He could, very easily. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t think about this myself. If there is anyone that would know about the layout of your estate, it would be you.” “How can I help there?” “We will get drawings of the ruins, and if you’re behaving, we can go back to your villa and look at it. But I need you to be quiet, don’t talk unless we’re alone.”

He nodded and got up. Just as he stretched, the shirt that was a little too tight on him slipped upwards, exposing some of his sun kissed skin. “Can I get different clothes before we go?” As much as I want to say no and stare at you for a little longer… “Can I leave you here unattended for a little?” “You can, I will behave.” “Promise?” He offered his pinkie and grinned. That’s all you needed for confirmation and you left for the shops. You had to guess his size, but judging by your ex’s stuff almost fitting, you knew enough, probably. One size up and you should be fine. Most importantly you got him some underwear because… the sweatpants weren’t hiding anything and you would unfortunately need to focus on work around him. You found some loose-fitting jeans and some natural fiber shirts. They were anything but cheap, but you were a little concerned with how well his skin would handle synthetic fibers, let alone all the detergents and softeners fabrics had in them. Thinking about it, it was a little lucky that he didn’t have any reaction to the soap you had offered him. Socks and some sneakers, and you were off on your way back.

After your return, he changed into a new set of clothes and you prayed that his poor, unpolluted skin could handle what it was exposed to, as there was no time to wash the clothes before he wore them, first. The rest of his clothes landed in the wash, though. His shirt, silky and almost black, had a little too many buttons and you helped him close them. You took the opportunity of being so close to him to give him a little pep talk. “Just stay close to me, okay? I don’t want you wandering around my workplace unattended.” Acacius was so close you could feel his breath on your skin. It made you a little nervous, especially because you could smell your shower gel on him, and he was closely watching you fumble with the buttons. “I’ll stay close,” he grumbled, just loud enough that you can hear it. After all, why speak louder when you were right opposite of him? Your eyes wandered upwards and found his, and it felt like your heart sank right into your panties. His lips were curled into a one-sided smirk and it took everything from you to not squeak.

One less awkward walk down to the office later, you found the layouts you had of the villa and placed them on the largest table you had in your little container-office. Marcus leaned over the table, causing you to bite your lower lip for just a moment. His butt looked so good in these jeans. “This is what we have found so far,” you explained and tried to detach your eyes from his backside before he would catch you staring at him. With a few steps you were next to him, leaning over the table just like he was. Your head turned to him. “Please don’t tell me we’re completely wrong,” you added. You felt a little anxious because he looked at it for so long. “No it’s… close enough,” he mumbled. Close enough?

Before you could ask for clarification, his fingers traveled across the gigantic sheet of paper. “It was a short walk from the villa in this direction.” His fingers soon left the paper and you took another plan. It was a further zoomed out satellite image of the area and the rough walls of the villa sketched in.

Acacius gave it a look, his finger traveled the same path over and over again, but as soon as he came close to the buildings that were there now, he seemed confused. “This is harder. Everything looks so different and it’s so small.” “It’s okay,” you reassured him and placed a hand on his shoulder “You don’t have to know right away. We can go down to the ruins, maybe it helps to just be there.”

And you were there all day. You were sometimes even arguing with Marcus until you remembered it had been his house and his opinion was more valuable than any of your educated guesstimations. And upon further inspection, some of the walls actually looked to be younger, meaning the villa had been used after his disappearance and partially rebuilt.

Philippe had observed you and Marcus all day, ending the shift with way too many notes about the villa. Changes that were to be made in the floor plan. If they could find evidence to claim these changes on rather than someone’s opinion. At least they could justify parts of these changes just by the walls being significantly newer and this would also probably mean there was more funding you could get for this excavation.

This evening you and the general went back to your apartment. He was very adamant that you should sleep in the comfort of your bed, and your couch was a lot more comfortable for him as well. Despite your reservations at first, you brought some wine and two glasses over to the couch, where Marcus patiently waited for you. “I know it’s probably not the outcome you had wished for for today, but we’re making good progress. I brought some wine, assuming it’s something you’re used to drinking. It might be a little strong. We can water it down if it is. You did good today and I wanted to celebrate it a little.” You filled the glasses with the wine, handing one of the glasses over to him “Thank you,” he nodded and took a sip of the wine. You took your glass and did the same. Marcus had opened the uppermost buttons on the black shirt and you had changed into a cami top and sweatpants, lazily lounging on your couch.

“Do you think we can find her?” “I’m sure. I can’t tell you how long it will take, but we will. How’s the wine?” He took another sip and nodded approvingly. “I like it. It’s very sweet.” “Just be careful, it might be a little strong for you.” Again, he smirked, this time just a little less cheeky. “I can handle it.” You believed him.

“So, tell me about her,” you said as you leaned back into the corner of your couch, one arm on the arm rest, the other holding the wine glass on your thigh. Hearing about Astra made you curious. Acacius really loved her, you were sure of it, and you wanted to know what made her so special to him. It was heartwarming to hear about other relationships, after all. That was, until you remembered that he had lost her.

“She was beautiful,” he mused. “I returned from war and it was like any other day. I was out in the city and she bumped into me at the market. She apologized profusely and our eyes met. She was so gorgeous it took my breath away.” He looked over to you. The candles on the coffee table reflected in his eyes. “She must’ve thought the same,” stumbled out of your lips, causing him to laugh. At least you hadn’t said you agreed with her observation, because this was awkward enough. You had another sip of the wine. The awkwardness flew over his head, or he didn’t want to make you feel any kind of uncomfortable. He just continued.

“I turned into the biggest idiot in her presence, I didn’t know how to carry myself. Handling legions came second nature to me after being in the military for so long. But being around her… I felt like a child, careless and a little adventurous at times. I took every opportunity to talk to her until she showed up at my villa one evening.” He emptied his glass and helped himself with some more.

You were hooked and asked “why was she at your villa?” His smile became wider and he sat back “It had been two or three days since I had last seen her, it was a busy week. She came over because she wanted to talk to me. We went to my garden and looked at the stars and talked. It became late and I didn’t want her to walk back home alone. I offered to bring her.” It sounded so romantic and you were a little jealous. Would anyone ever talk about how they met you in such a loving manner? “And she refused?” “She kissed me and asked if she could stay.”

Judging by his grin, the outcome wasn’t hard to guess. “And she stayed…” “Yes, she did.” You could only imagine what he was thinking about when he grinned like this. You cleared your throat and emptied your wine glass, set it down on the table. Was he aware of what this was doing to you? You were both on your couch, you were drinking – he had his damn chest out and practically openly talked about sex. It was hard to shake off the image of him in the grey sweatpants. It was like you could almost see everything.

“What about your … partner? How did you meet?” Marcus asked you, possibly out of courtesy. He wasn’t really interested in your love life, was he? “I don’t think it’s interesting. We’re separated anyway. I don’t miss him.” Short and sweet, and such a diplomatic answer. Of course you missed your ex from time to time, but he never understood your passion. Incompatible, that’s what you were. “Is it normal to not be married in your time?” With a shrug you responded “it’s… not unusual. We get married later in life, a lot never marry.”

Marcus' reaction was expectedly negative. “Sounds lonely.” But you could reassure him “It’s not.” It really wasn’t. You had friends for your social interactions, and on desperate evenings, you had Tinder to remind you that most modern men were absolutely not worth the effort. Marcus seemed to be particularly interested in the latter part, as his next question struck you by surprise. “When is the last time you’ve been with a man?” You gulped and stuttered “I… uh… I can take care of myself.” Which technically wasn’t a lie, but you would rather die than teach him about toys right now. “Sure you can,” he took another sip and cocked an eyebrow. You motherfu… Was he flirting with you?

Quick, say something before it gets awkward again!! “I’m surprised that it doesn't bother you. Isn’t modesty one of the female virtues in your time?” He nodded, but shrugged shortly thereafter. “It was. But this isn’t my time. Do you want more wine?” His hand pointed towards your wine glass and despite knowing you shouldn’t, you agreed to another glass. Acacius reached for the bottle and leaned over when filling your glass with wine. You could see his heart beat on the vein on his neck, pulsing in the candle light. There was nothing you could do, you stared at him, so handsome in the dim light of the small flame. And so close to you. As if he had heard your thoughts, he turned his head to you, an eyebrow raised. You didn’t move, but neither did he.

Suddenly, the tension in the air was thick and you could make out his heavy but suppressed breathing. You watched as he leaned over, coming closer to you. One of his hands landed on the back rest, the other on the hand rest next to you, meaning you were caged against the corner on the couch. It felt like time was running slower when he leaned in and before you could react in any way, you felt his lips, kissing you ever so gently. Your hand was in his hair in an instant, pulling him in, tasting the wine on his lips. Reluctantly, he retreated just a moment later, and that’s when it also fully hit you: Marcus had kissed you.

All you could ask him was “why did you kiss me just now?” because it didn’t make sense in your mind. He had just told you about his wife and suddenly he was practically pinning you against your couch and kissed you. “It must be the wine,” he explained in a murmur. “My apologies.” After you had taken a breath, you shook your head. “It’s nothing. I told you the wine is strong. Don’t worry.” Still, you took the wine glass and held onto it for dear life. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to forget he’s married and just give into the urge and kiss him again. To feel the heat of his skin on yours, the ripple of his muscles and the sweet growl of his voice when he moaned your name. Stop it! You softly smiled at him despite your very dirty thoughts and tried to make the situation just a little less uncomfortable for the both of you. “The couch is yours, you don’t have to kiss me for it.” A sigh of relief escaped his lips. “Thank you.”

Acacius stared into the wine and swished it around, as if he expected there to be some kind of wisdom in the dark red liquid. “Do you think we can find her?” he asked. Maybe he wanted to remind himself that he was on the search for his wife. “I’m sure we will find her. All we need to do is trust in your memories. And we will need to be patient.” You meant it. You were adamant about keeping your promise, even if it took a while. The general was welcome to stay with you. It wasn’t like you weren’t majorly benefitting from his support. “Thank you again for helping me and stopping your work for it.” “We’re not stopping. You’re helping me immensely, your life is my work.” You chewed on your lip for a moment. How long had he been missing his wife now? How long did it take him to kiss a stranger? “How long has it been since she passed?” “In my time?” You nodded. Marcus sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. “A week. She went into labor. I was getting ready to be a father, to hold my child in my arms and suddenly I was a widower, left with nothing but my grief.”

“I’m so sorry,” you expressed your condolences. It made sense why he had been so distraught when he showed up here. The wounds were fresh. “It was a girl and she was as beautiful as her mother,” he said as a pained smile showed up on his face. “I still don’t understand what wrong I did for the gods to punish me like this. What did I do for them to take away everything I held dear.” Tears welled up in his eyes and sparkled in the candle light. If only he hadn’t kissed you, because now you hesitated placing your hand on him to soothe express your empathy. What were you supposed to say? No one believed in the old gods for the most part, but then again, science was definitely not able to explain why he ended up here, 1800 years into the future.

You’ve been in thought for a second so you didn’t see him lean forward and cover his eyes with a hand. Only the single sob that came out pulled you back to reality. You put your wine back on the table, leaned in, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Fuck, he’s warm. “I’m sorry. I know there’s not much I can do to soothe your pain, but I’m here for you. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to lose both your spouse and child but it must feel like you’re dying yourself.” That was definitely making it worse, as his sobs came out in full now. You sighed, swallowed the awkwardness and hugged him from the side. A moment later he put his glass on the table and turned to hug you back. With his face buried in your hair, you let him cry, only stroking his back. “We will find her,” you softly whispered against his head while he still was holding onto you.

Whether it was the soft touches, your words or the hug itself, you felt his breath become more and more regular. No sobs shook you any more. All you could feel was his heart beat and his warm breath against your scalp. Somewhere in between breaths you could’ve sworn he had whispered something into your hair. You stayed like this until he decided to let go first. Your fingers were in his hair again, giving his scalp a soft massage as he looked back into your eyes. At least you had found the right words to say while you held him. “I don’t care how long it takes. I might need to find creative justifications for why our research is taking a different turn, but we will reunite you with your wife. And your little girl. I promise.”

After this outbreak of raw emotions, you both decided to pour the rest of the wine down the drain and go to sleep; separately. You felt a little conflicted because it seemed like your presence was soothing to him but it also made him feel guilty, as if it pained him to be around you. And you couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. You’ve sacrificed so much for your research and you were so fascinated by him. Acacius seemed so soft, so loving and gentle deep down. Sure, you projected a lot onto him, imagining him to be the perfect man to his wife. How often had you wondered if you would ever find someone that would love you like he loved his wife?

And then you met him, he fell right before your feet. To be fair, your first meeting had been a little explosive but Marcus was so understanding and frankly… he had taken your breath away as soon as you had met his eyes with yours; it felt a little just like he explained reacting to first seeing Astra – but you didn’t feel like an idiot in his presence, just a little awkward from time to time.

The next days you spent basically remaking all of the sketches of the villa layout. It was a lot of work, but you had a good feeling that this would help Marcus estimate the distances better. He was your only hope with finding the location of the tree, after all. Then again, without him you wouldn’t be in this trouble at all.

You didn’t mind. Marcus and you grew closer, working all day on the site, sitting in the office on occasion going over some of the other things you found, only to go home with him, falling asleep in your separate beds to do it all again the next day. You became good friends, you found a routine. Marcus was invaluable to your research and in return for his help you offered what you could. A bed, a bath, lazy sundays on the couch, and an occasional hug when his grief overcame him.

It wasn’t a lot you could offer, but it seemed to do the trick. The bad nights were rare and you would start seeing a different side of him altogether. Marcus was an intense person, no one could deny that, but he was warm and gentle, even goofy, and sometimes even a little protective when he felt you were uncomfortable. Whenever he was approached by women, which happened more times than you had expected, you helped out. It didn’t take long for him to learn some basic words in Italian and also some in English. He was a smart man, after all, and despite this not being his time, he adapted fast.

He grew to like black coffee. That was of all things the biggest surprise. The face he had made when he first tried it convinced you he was more of a cappuccino type of guy, but on some mornings you stepped out of the shower and coffee was already waiting for you, your roommate humming to himself while looking out of the kitchen window.

It didn’t register at first, but for a while it felt like Astra was completely forgotten. You and Marcus worked alongside one another like he was just another coworker that just so happened to live with you. Nothing further than the kiss had happened between you two, it wasn’t like you were actively trying to make him forget about his wife. Rather he would listen to your theories, trying to connect stories of other Romans that lived at the same time. And he would deliver the hottest gossip no one today would know about.

Today, however, was a different day. “Maybe we should stay home,” you sighed as you watched the rain drops collect on the kitchen window. You were having breakfast, Marcus sat opposite of you in the same dark, silky shirt, the top button undone. “It’s just water, we should get over there soon,” he responded with a shrug. He was right, but still, part of you wanted to just stay in bed today. Was it the rain? Were you a little under the weather? You’ve never been sensitive to changes in this way.

Something was off with him today, but not in a bad way. There was a pep in his step, so to say, an enthusiasm to work you had not seen in him. At first he was frustrated, nervous, then joyful whenever you could cross off one task of the sheer never ending list. But today, it was like he had just won the lottery. He was all smiles and giddy about the same old work.

“We should try to find it, I think,” he said as soon as you entered the office. He went straight for the coffee machine while you draped the newest revision of the villa’s layout onto the table. He laid down on the couch and recounted his steps, while you tried to mark the way down on your map. It didn’t have to be 100 percent accurate, but if you had a rough idea of what area to search, you could just go there and see if you could find Astra.

Did you ever think about how absurd this was? Absolutely, but Marcus was here and very real, why was it so unbelievable that his wife would be here somewhere?

You spent all day going back and forth with him, until you decided right around sunset that it was probably for the best if he got to actually walk from his villa to wherever he expected Astra to be. “I’ll keep my eyes closed,” he explained when you stood at the ruins, the warm rain pattering onto his shoulders, slowly soaking him and you. You took his hand and nodded. “I will make sure you won’t run into anything.” Marcus raised your hands in front of his face and kissed the back of your hand, never breaking eye contact. As beautiful as the thought was to reunite him with his wife, you knew you would miss this. Miss him. He was by no means romantically involved with you, but his whole presence, who he was and how he was with you…

It would leave you a little empty and lost.

“Are you nervous?” you asked him as he started walking. As he had his eyes closed, you could sneak in a few glances. He was so handsome and the joy that radiated from his face made him even more attractive. If only he’d be smiling for you. “Do you think this is it?” he asked, opening his eyes just a slit to look over to you. Of course, you averted your gaze and scanned the environment, making sure he wouldn’t run into anything. “I have a good feeling about this,” you confirmed and nodded. It was a lie. You had a bad feeling about this and that’s what probably meant this was it. He was about to leave.

If this meant you would go your separate ways soon, you’d better make the most of the time you still had. One question about today burned in your mind. “Why today? What is so special about it? You’ve been so enthusiastic about it since we left the apartment” “The rain.” “The rain?” You both stopped for a second. By now you were almost drenched, but with the heat during the day, this almost felt refreshing rather than uncomfortable. And no one could deny that wet hair made him look even better. You should really stop thinking about him like this.

“She appeared in my dreams again. She said we would reunite when rain fell from the stars.” His explanation sounded convincing enough, but then again “you never told me you had dreamt about her again.” Your voice actually sounded a little accusatory. Marcus just shrugged “I … must’ve forgotten. It wasn’t like it had rained before today so – it wasn’t important.”

Huh, not important. You swallowed your pride and you continued on. “Do you think the stars might be crying?” He sounded confused when he replied “why would I think that?” “Well,” you began, “the poem, think of it as a sequel. You might have proposed to her on a clear night, but maybe they’re crying because they’re saying farewell to their sisters again.” “How did you know it was a clear night?” “Stars aren’t visible behind clouds”

Marcus stopped abruptly and looked at you again. His curls dropped forward, droplets of rain running along the salt and pepper strands and falling onto your face. Did he know how handsome he was, even by today’s standards? Despite all the scars? His thumb gently stroked your hand and a smile crept up to his lips. “You’re such a smart woman. It’s a shame no one appreciates that. Thank you for everything,” he mused. His words touched you, he was one of the few people whose compliments felt genuine. “Thank you, general. I’m so curious to meet her,” you responded, squeezing his hand ever so softly. Only a few more minutes and you could stop lying, to him and to yourself. “I can’t wait to hold her in my arms again.” Ouch.

You kept walking and after a few close calls with tripping hazards, he stopped for the final time. “This should be it,” he said and opened his eyes. You were in a small alley, behind a house it seemed. “No trees here,” you said softly. Not like you had expected anything else. If there had been a tree in Rome that was this old, you would’ve heard about it.

Marcus let go of your hand and walked towards a small shrine on one of the walls that had gathered his attention. You stared at your now empty hand. It felt a little cold now that he had let go. “What does it say?” he asked, pointing at a little sign by the shrine, and you followed him to a statue of virgin Mary with baby Jesus. The imagery must have been a little painful to see for him.

You read the small inscription. “It’s a shrine of the virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, the… son of the Christian God.” You heard him mutter something, probably disappointment, or confusion why a virgin was a mother. “It says here they found the remains of a woman and a child when this house was built, so they put the shrine here.” you turned to look at him. “This must be it. We found her.”

And as much as it hurt you to know that Marcus would leave, the joy you saw in his eyes soothed your pain a little. After all, your friend had lost so much more than you would lose after he would be with his wife again. They could continue their life and you wondered what this meant for the present, for your time. Would history change?

Would he forget you for the sake of never letting anyone know where he had been?

You both heard steps coming down the alley. Marcus didn’t dare move and neither did you. As much as you wanted him to be happy, what about you? Could you be selfish for a second? He would leave you behind, separated from him by so much time. It wasn’t like there was much that held him here, besides the one friend he made.

The woman that came around the corner was definitely not his wife. It was an older lady under an umbrella, taking an evening walk or maybe going home, carrying a small bag. You and her exchanged pleasantries, distracting you for a moment.

“Astra, where are you?” he asked, as soon as his gaze was back on him, you saw the pain in his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. How you would’ve loved to do the same. “Astra!” he called out into the night and you flinched, startled by the sudden volume. “Astra!” he called again.

You heard some residents complain about the noise. You blinked a few times and afterwards looked at him, “Marcus,” you softly addressed him. “I don’t understand it. She said she’d be here, but there’s just me and … you.” He turned to look at you and disappointment left for confusion, one eyebrow raised. What?

“Are you crying?” You couldn’t feel the tears on your already wet face but you nodded, certain your eyes were tearing up because you would lose him. With a few steps Marcus was opposite of you, cupping your face with one hand and wiping your cheek. “Why are you crying?” “Happy tears” His head tilted to the side. “I can tell when you’re lying,” he grumbled. Marcus came a little closer, chest to chest with you, and his second hand joined in to cup your face. “Tell me.” How were you supposed to let this go without tears?

“I’m happy for you, or… I thought I was, but I –” he leaned in and shut you up by kissing you. You leaned in but at the same time you muttered out a “stop” in between kisses. He growled “no” and kept going. “Marcus,” you tried to get him to stop again, this time successfully, allowing you to take a breath.

“I thought we were over this,” you tried to accuse him of something, but it fell on deaf ears this time around. “You’re smart. Connect the dots.” His voice was so silky and you absolutely wanted to hate him for being so hot when you should be mad at him. “You’re kissing me here when your wife is about to show up any second to leave with you!”

“Carissima,” he stroked your cheeks. “It’s just us here. I should have known from the beginning when I first saw you.” “What?” “It’s you. It’s always been you. You have her wit, her heart… and her eyes.” He gave you a once-over, never stopping stroking your cheeks. “But the rain–” “As you so cleverly pointed out: Stars aren’t visible then it rains.”

And then it partially clicked. “The poem…” “Your eyes are the stars, and your tears are the rain.” Marcus leaned in and placed a kiss onto your forehead before he continued. “I was meant to stumble before your feet and fall in love with you all over again. And I fell hard.” “But you were so persistent to find her today,” you intercepted. Of course, you were a little overwhelmed with what was going on. Was he really implying you were some kind of reincarnation of Astra? He shook his head. “I was waiting for a sign that I was right.”

You raised your head to see him smiling at you. “Please tell me you feel the same.” It’s a little hard to process it all, but all you wanted was to give in, so you nodded. You had fallen for him a while ago, ever since you had seen the brown eyes for the first time. To confirm your gesture, Marcus kissed you again, one hand in the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer. Your fingers were in his hair, tangling in the wet curls. “Now it’s happy tears,” you whispered when he leaned in once more, forehead against forehead. He smiled warmly and gave you another peck on the lips.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked. Not that the rain wasn’t pleasant, but you stood here in a random alleyway when you had an apartment close. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” You offered with a grin. “I would love to. I love you.” “I love you too.”

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