#and about 6 years ago was really the first time I actually was like Hey.
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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 2 days ago
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Hi, big fan of your work in the whump community :3
Do you have any prompts/thoughts for one of my favorite phrases: "I thought you were dead" ?
thank you so much!!
dialogue prompts in responses to ❝I thought you were dead.❞
❝I’m not dead, babe. I just ghosted you.❞
❝cheating death is what I do for a living.❞
❝that was weeks ago/months ago. people change.❞
❝not dead. I am Death.❞
❝and it sucked. being on the verge of death. would not recommend.❞
❝that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I literally cannot die.❞
❝no, but you will be if you don’t start running.❞
❝a bullet to the heart can’t kill me. you, out of all people, should have known my heart has already been blackened and dried up a very long time ago.❞
❝surprise, bitch. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.❞ (the classic one, I couldn’t not add this.)
❝of course, you did. after all, it was you who tried to kill me.❞
❝darling, you’re going to have to try harder than that.❞
❝this is gonna sound crazy, but I am dead, and apparently I’m assigned to be your guardian angel now.❞
❝you know I’m not actually real, right?❞
❝no, you left me to die. I was just a survivor.❞
❝yeah, yeah, I heard that before.❞
❝I am.❞
❝did you really have so little faith in me?❞
❝me too! another thing we have in common.❞
❝I did, but it turned out death didn’t want me.❞
❝who’s going to look after you if I’m dead?❞
❝I’ll always come back to you.❞
❝dead? it was just a cut on a finger. stop being so dramatic.❞
❝sorry to disappoint.❞
❝boo.❞
❝you’ve made sure of that, haven’t you?❞
❝I’m stubborn just like that.❞
❝is it because I disappeared from your life for 20 years?❞
❝why? what happened? why would you think that?❞
❝oh, I am. and so are you. welcome to the land of the dead.❞
❝I’m a ghost, and I need your help.❞
❝I don’t have much time. you have to find my murderer.❞
❝I am. you’re just hallucinating.❞
❝if I am dead and you’re talking to me, doesn’t it mean you’re dead, too?❞
❝I’m not Dead. I’m (insert character’s name).❞
❝I did. I just crawled out of hell.❞
❝hell was boring anyway. so here I am.❞
❝you can’t get rid of me that easily.❞
❝nothing could kill me. not even death.❞
❝you know I’d never leave you.❞
❝God says it’s not my time.❞
❝well, this is awkward.❞
❝oh, I am. I’m here to take you with me.❞
❝did you cry?❞
❝did you mourn?❞
❝oh please, I was gone for less than an hour.❞
❝there’s been a misunderstanding. It wasn’t me who died.❞
❝I understand why you’d think that.❞
❝I can explain.❞
❝I am, and you will be just as dead as I am if you don’t turn around right now.❞
❝you’re not gonna believe what I saw on the other side.❞
❝why? you already replaced me?❞
❝I was hoping so too.❞
❝I really need to stop dying. let me tell you that shit is not fun.❞
❝I’m sorry if my survival is so inconvenient for you.❞
❝I have always been dead.❞
❝I died a long time ago, actually.❞
❝what are you going to do about that? try and kill me again? because it certainly didn’t work the first 6 times. but hey! maybe seventh time’s a charm!❞
❝I fooled you, didn’t I?❞
❝I’m not going anywhere.❞
❝I’m sorry. do I know you?❞
❝it’s a long story.❞
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mosspodge · 2 days ago
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looking back at the pinterest board i made 6 years ago when i was just figuring out clothes beyond tshirt + shorts or maaaaaaaybe a skirt is really funny to me
i never stopped adding to it, so over time it's slowly become this fun timeline of When Mossy Learned What Fashion Was. you can visibly see where the turning point from "idk this is nice i guess" to "This is nicer fabric that will last a while, a shape I enjoy, and in color(s) i frequently wear and will match the rest of my wardrobe" was
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moonstruckme · 5 months ago
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Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍
Yes! Thank you for reading <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words
“Honey, I’m home!” 
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—
“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 
You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 
He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 
“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 
James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 
“How would it be your fault?” 
“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 
You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 
“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 
“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 
“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 
You blink. “Me?” 
“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 
“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 
“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 
You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 
You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 
His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 
“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 
A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 
“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 
You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 
Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 
But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 
“I might,” you say. 
“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.
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lilacstro · 5 months ago
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Astro observations pt 1
Hey y'all this is my very first post :) Please take it with a grain of salt. These are just my interpretations and observations and a placement could mean million different things on how its being viewed and understood and nothing is sure on how it manifests for you in your chart.
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Jupiter in 8th house can mean many things, one of them being your spouse would bring transformative experiences into your life.
2. Scorpio mercuries may have a tendency to over analyze what is being said or always wanting to read between the lines
3. I have seen Pluto in 5th house of all the people who's mothers were dominated. Though this can mean the other way around too, and could be that the mother was dominating.
4. I think other than most people saying Pluto 1st housers go a massive change in appearance, I think it could actually mean that their personality and persona goes a massive change at some point in their life, or its constantly being evolved through learning experiences
5. Venus in 1st house people, are extremely beautiful.
6. Check Asteroid fama (408) and industria(389) if any of these positively aspect your venus, you could get fame for your beauty or work within the beauty industry.
7. Most women with major scorpio/capricorn placements appear intimidating even though it might not be so...but they indeed hold themselves to high regards mostly
8. Having an earth rising in your SR can indicate having a calmer and a predictable year. Nothing chaotic or major. I had Taurus Rising in my SR and I had lost a lot of toxic/chaotic people in my life and things were stable and peaceful throughout. I was on a gap year so I did not make friends either hahaha
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9. Having sun/moon in 10th house synastry or 10th house stellium could mean you both together are quite talked about or people are aware towards your feelings towards one another visibly. Sometimes it could also mean, you two's business isnt as private as you think lmao and people are aware on whats happening.
10. Having moon in 10th house in SR can indicate your emotions being extremely visible to everyone, even if you tend to hide them.
11. Libra mars people, might not come off as too masculine but rather a little more in tune with their feminine side (thats cool imo)
12. I think Moon in Gemini people often tend to say "I never said that" when they absolutely said that or "What do you mean" even when its clear what is being talked about lmao.
13. Leo women are usually very outgoing, charismatic and fun imo. Leo anywhere in the big 3 can mean that this side exists to the native though it might be overshadowed by other aspects in the chart. The types to dance at the empty dance floor and then suddenly everyone wants to dance lol
14. I was watching Nat Geo a long time ago and saw how lioness protect their children from the Lions and often go hunting. I think all mothers are protective of their children but for Leo women, its on another level lol. Also, they might like taking pride in their children and providing for their children. Not as in boasting, but just genuinely taking pride.
15. Cancer men and the love for their mothers. NEVER met a single cancer guy who did not have a lot of love for their mother.
16. Sag placements usually Sun and risings usually have a very comforting presence. Even it maybe like you met them for the first time, they can make you feel grounded and comfortable. Very non judgmental too.
17.If you have Saturn in 6th house, please try having a routine even if you might dread it lol
18. Capricorn moon men usually have very traditional or maybe orthodox beliefs about how women should be. I have seen that a lot.
20. Taurus Mars may like slow recreational activities like cooking.
21. Wanna know how you would react during a break up? See your moon+8th house sign. Example, a Leo moon with 8th house in cancer would be extremely emotional and everybody would know.
22. Girls with Libra Sun, Rising or MC may really like makeup and have good fashion sense.
23. Having your moon sign same like your mothers sun sign may indicate some kind of special connection between two of you. It could be that you understand her much better or could be that you don't get along at all too? idk there is something much special about it.
24. Sun in 10th house could mean your dad had a status in society. Could also mean, your birth could bring him luck in his career.
25. Jupiter in second house people usually come from wealth or hold potential to create generational wealth.
support me on ko-fi :)
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That's it :) I hope it resonated with you all :)
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hairmetal666 · 3 months ago
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It's a fluke that Eddie ends up a gymnast. Wayne only signs him up for summer classes at Hawkins's tumbling gym to burn off his excess six-year-old energy. Nobody, lest of all Eddie or Wayne, expects him to be talented at it.
And now, somehow, he's at his first ever elite gymnastics competition. His coaches all said he was good, but he hadn't really had a frame of reference for what that meant. Not until now. Not until he's in 3rd place after high bar, right behind Steve Harrington.
They tumbled together, as little kids. Steve a tiny boy with an absurd pompadour, monopolizing the mats for insane tumbling passes and lording his high-end competition shirts over the other kids (none of the rest even wore actual gymnastics gear; they were six and it was Hawkins).
Now, he's a swaggering fifteen year old with the same pompadour and bad attitude. They're not on the same rotation, but as Eddie moves on from his floor exercise, Steve makes a point to ram into him.
Eddie doesn't react and maybe that would've been the end of it, but he ends up placing, and Steve corners him in the locker room.
"Come to congratulate me?" Eddie smirks.
"You better watch your back, Munson." Steve shoves him into the lockers.
"I knew you were an asshole, Harrington, but I didn't realize you were a sore loser."
Steve leans close, heat melting into Eddie. "You better count yourself lucky you've gotten this far. Not really a sport for poor kids."
Eddie bristles at this. Yeah, sure, his gear is secondhand, and he and Wayne learned how to sew to mend his competition shirts, gymnastics pants, and warmups, but they work hard, together, for Eddie to do this. "Don't worry about how I afford to be here." Eddie checks him as he brushes past. "Just fix those wobbly flairs on pommel."
The rivalry is hot and fierce and mean, made even worse by the fact that Eddie has an enormous hate-boner for Harrington. It's not, Eddie reasons, his fault. He's gay and surrounded by guys whose bodies are honed for a sport based on strength, endurance, and agility, Steve the most beautiful of all. So he looks, and he longs, and he hates Harrington with every fiber of his being.
Eddie's sure this would continue for their competitive lives, but everything changes the summer before their junior years of high school. They're at a training camp, the kind for world champion, Olympic hopeful types. Steve is practicing ring dismounts when he loses himself in the air, lands hard off the mat, destroys something in his knee. He needs surgery, the recovery time 6-8 months, if he's lucky to be able to compete again.
Maybe a year ago, Eddie would be excited by this development, but now it's kind of devastating. He doesn't bother examining why.
--
Steve comes back and he's--different. His first competition, he comes up, asks, "Eddie, hey, can we talk?" And, well, they've never been on a first name basis before and Steve is so so pretty, so he agrees.
"I just want to say, I'm sorry how I treated you back before. I was a real piece of shit and you never deserved it."
Eddie truly doesn't know how to respond, never foresaw this day coming. "Thanks. Uh--yeah. Thanks."
They stare at each other for a few seconds longer before Steve taps him on the shoulder and walks away.
It's not the only thing that's changed about Steve. There's this big group of feral children that follow him around everywhere now. Apparently, Harrington told them Eddie plays dnd and now they follow him around too.
He also. Has a girlfriend now. She's pretty; delicate looking. Her name is Nancy. And she's nice, or whatever. Eddie definitely isn't jealous. It's just. He's been with Steve in locker rooms for years, and he thought--well, he'd seen the way Harrington's eyes sometimes lingered on a bicep, a well-cut thigh, the intrigue of a pelvic v, and he thought--not that it matters, but he thought--
Anyway, Steve has a girlfriend.
---
They're at the winter classic, when it happens.
Eddie is doing good. Like. Really good. Like his routines, they're not flawless, but he's hitting the big skills and sticking landings, and stays in 2nd throughout the majority of the rotations.
It's not a huge shock when he finishes his final rotation, vault, and winds up finishing in 2nd. What is a shock, though, is that, when the scores go up, Steve is wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, hoisting him into the sky. And, even after he's back on solid ground, Harrington doesn't loosen his hold.
And it's, like. Nothing, right? It's nothing because he has a girlfriend and, sure, maybe he's bi, but that doesn't stop Nancy from existing.
He's not going to think about it, is the thing. He knows it doesn't mean anything, so he isn't going to dwell. It's definitely not all he thinks about during the podium ceremony, or after when he talks to media, or even later walking into the empty locker room.
Or. He thought it was empty. But Steve is there, smiling, saying "you were amazing out there."
They hug again, and Eddie tries not to enjoy the warmth of Harrington's body, the comforting strength of his toned biceps. Eddie pulls back and Steve is--he's so close, gazing at Eddie's lips and--
Steve's mouth is hot and sweet, like he's wearing cherry chapstick, and Eddie can't--he thinks of Nancy; she's nice, doesn't deserve this, they should stop--
But he's sucking on Steve's tongue and Steve is making the sweetest sounds, hard against Eddie's thigh, and nothing else matters.
---
It goes on for months.
Eddie knows he needs to end it, vows to as soon as they're apart.
It all goes out the window as soon as they're together again. He can't get enough. It's Steve. How is he supposed to resist?
(He needs to. It's horrifying, what they're doing to Nancy)
---
The children who follow Steve around invite him to dinner after the first day of the USA gymnastics championships.
Nancy is there.
It's the worst three hours of his life. He can't look at Steve, can barely speak to him.
Nancy is beautiful and smart and kind and strong. She doesn't deserve any of this.
And when Steve drops by his hotel room hours later, Eddie greets him by saying, "I can't do this anymore."
Steve's shoulders drop, eyes squeezing shut. "Right. Yeah, I--Yeah."
"I like you, Steve. A lot. But I can't--you have a girlfriend. And I can't keep being whatever this is for you."
Steve nods, won't meet his eyes. "You're right. It's not fair to either of you. I--My parents expect--And I--I'm sorry," he whispers the last part.
Eddie smiles, heart aching. "Sweetheart. I get it. But. Figure out your shit, yeah? Maybe then we can talk?"
The smile Steve flashes him is a broken thing. "Maybe. Sure."
And that's it.
Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.
The next day, he wins first in the all-around.
---
He and Steve stop speaking.
Somewhere around, ohh, the very first time they hooked up, he caught feelings. So sue him if it kills him, seeing Steve at every competition.
They don't speak again until the Olympic trials. And isn't that ridiculous? Eddie at the Olympic trials. It's such an insane pipe dream, being an Olympian, that he doesn't actually have any expectations whatsoever.
So knock him over with a feather when he fucking makes it on the team.
And so does Steve.
The announcement rings out, and Steve is there, out of nowhere, pulling Eddie into his arms. And Eddie's so hyped, so excited, that he just shouts and hugs Steve right back.
He pretends the proximity, the musk of Steve's cologne, the tangy saltiness of his sweat, doesn't bother him, doesn't transport him immediately back to Steve's bed.
They're teammates now; he can keep it casual.
Right before they leave for the games, news breaks that Steve and Nancy have broken up.
---
The Team competition at the fucking Olympics is going well. They've had good routines, with no huge errors, stay consistently within the top 5 scores. But then they're on the last rotation, parallel bars, and he's the very last competitor to go. They'll win bronze if he can score above 14.933.
But
He's inconsistent on parallel bars, always has been, something deep and psychological he can't quite let go of, and now their medal chances are all on him.
He salutes the judges, jumps into his starting position--and his mind goes quiet. Muscle memory, skill, years of training take over--he's flawless.
Eddie sticks his dismount, and the place erupts. He doesn't have a score yet, doesn't know if he's done it, but the rest of the team screams like he has.
They pull him into their arms, but Steve is closest, his grip the tightest. Their eyes keep catching, holding, and Eddie can't really breathe but he doesn't think it's the anxiety or the excitement.
The score goes up.
Not only is it high enough for bronze, it puts them in silver.
Eddie has barely a second to process before he's being hoisted into the air, Steve's arms bracing him up. The crowd's going crazy, his teammates screaming and hugging him, each other, but all he sees is Steve beaming up at him.
He's slowly lowered to the ground, Steve's arms still around him. "You were perfect, baby," Steve whispers. "Never seen anyone like you."
He wishes he could stay right there, Steve beaming at him, but they won the silver--they won the silver at the goddamn Olympics--and they have to get medals, do interviews.
They don't have a chance to be alone together until they're back at the Village, where Steve is just waiting in Eddie's room when he gets back.
"Is this okay?" Steve asks. "I wanted to talk to you and Jason let me in, but I can--I'll leave."
"Please don't." Eddie swallows. "Stay."
Steve smiles, a little. "I needed to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did to you and Nancy. It was unfair to both of you. I love her, you know? But she's not who--I'm not in love with her."
"No?"
"No. I thought it would make my parents happy, settling down with a nice girl. But it turned out it didn't actually make a difference to them, who I dated. And she isn't who I wanted to be with."
"I'm proud of you for figuring out what you really wanted. It's brave."
"I wish I could've been brave earlier." He gives a little laugh. "Before I hurt you."
Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He wishes the same thing.
"Um, which is also why I'm here." Steve plucks at the waistband of his Team USA Nike joggers. "I wanted to see if maybe we could try again? Officially this time?"
Eddie can't keep his smile from taking over his entire face. "Sweetheart, I would love to."
"Yeah?"
And Eddie just--after all this time, he just--pulls Steve into his arms and kisses him. The silver medals, still around both of their necks, clink together with the force, but neither of them really care.
Steve sighs, nuzzles his nose to Eddie's. "Missed you so bad," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."
"Me too," Eddie smiles. "But kiss me a while."
Eventually, they fall back onto Eddie's bed, which makes a horrible noise as their combined weight topples onto it, and they break apart to laugh. Steve smooths back his hair, wrapping a few fingers through his curls to keep Eddie close, even though he's not about to go anywhere.
"Can't believe we made it all the way here." Steve's looking at him like he hung the moon
"Cause we're taking medals home?"
"Honey," he laughs. "Because I'm taking you home."
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fullfriendnerdclutch · 8 months ago
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Richard actually preferred to spent his Spring Break lounging around his quaint and peaceful university town. But, since his Uncle drove all the way down to pick him up unannounced, simply because Richard is in the same state now, not like he could just shush that man away so he lazily packed his bag and hit the road with the 43 years old hulk of a DILF
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They didn't talk much throughout the long trip into the farmland as Richard pretended to fall asleep before eventually really falling asleep on the way there. But he's dead wrong to assume that his Uncle is unaware of his avoidance. In fact, that very attitude is the sole reason why his Uncle came all the way down to pick him up. It's time to mold Richard into the perfect Dawson boys, and Spring Break provides the best timeline in order for Richard to hit his final alteration right during summer
When the pair arrived at the sprawling farm, Richard realized how stinking rich his family must be with all these acres of land under their possession. It's been more than a decade since he last visited the family farm, but clearly this visit will leave him with the memory about the family farm much more clearly. His uncle let him rest for the remainder of the day, he even fell asleep right after his quick dinner and cleaning himself. But Richard didn't expect that he needs to do some hard labour the following morning!
"Your cousin Adam is spending some time with his sickly wife while Steve took off for the entirety of this Spring Break to spend time with his kids. So I need your help, boy,"
"Wait, Adam is married?"
"Yes, a year ago, don't you remem--- oh yeah, you were on your gap year trip,"
The tone his uncle used irked Richard a bit, gap year trip, but he let it go. His mind is focused on the fact that Adam is the same age as him, and he's married? At 20? 19 if he considered the fact it happened a year ago.....what a totally different life the two of them have. His uncle snapped Richard's out of his mind as he told the pale, gangly-looking Richard to put on the boots before helping him around the farm and the ranch. Richard at first doubted that he could fit into the boots, but somehow it fits him just right. So, off he goes with his uncle
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Day after day, the routine remained the same. He will wake up at around 5 or 6 AM, have his loaded breakfast and head out with his uncle. He surprisingly found himself enjoying the routine, he even started to address his Uncle with "Sir" and cooked the breakfast for the two. He simply didn't notice the change in his reflection on how his skin tanned on its own, how his form straightened rather than hunched per usual, how all his clothings somehow altered to solely consist of black t-shirt, jeans and some plaid shirt and he just didn't bother to ask his uncle for the whereabouts of his other clothing. He also failed to notice how his uncle has been subliminally planting in his subconsciousness that he enjoyed working in the farm, that he preferred to be called Dick since Richard sounded too posh for him, that Dick has always been interested with farming and the idea to continue the family's business, that Dick wanted to recruit some good trusted friends of his to join the family's business and how he needs to pivot to study about agriculture or farming in uni.....well, scratch that, he will probably drop out later in the summer and learn better about farming or agriculture by working with his Uncle.
Imagine the surprise his roommates got when Richard went back from his Spring Break 30 lbs heavier and looking like a Southern farm stud with his outfit and the way he got this drawl out of nowhere. And he apparently have a souvenir too for them
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"Got these from my Uncle, now, try to put these babies on and tell me how it feels,"
---
Fast forward to summer, not only Dick really followed through with his drop out plan, he brings along his now much-more fitting roommate to join him in the farm
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Hey there, a bit rushed with this execution but hope it's still an enjoyable read
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imaginespazzi · 4 months ago
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Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10
And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)
(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff
Words: 5.8K
TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3
September 2017
Azzi: just got home :) 
It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison. 
Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself. 
But then Azzi picks up on the second one.
And really it would be rude to hang up. 
“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen. 
“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”
Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”
“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”
“Yeah I’m hanging up-”
“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”
Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips. 
“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs. 
“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”
“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”
“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission. 
Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”
It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all. 
“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach. 
“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”
There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness. 
“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”
“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough. 
“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”
“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out. 
Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”
Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry. 
“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”
It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance. 
“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”
Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too. 
“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first. 
“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”
Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”
“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.
“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”
“Only hurts from carrying my team.”
“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”
“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”
Azzi huffs, “Paige.”
“Azzi,” Paige hums. 
“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige. 
“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes. 
“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly,  scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)
“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”
And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige. 
“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence. 
There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind. 
“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”
Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”
“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”
“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts. 
“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”
“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it. 
“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”
“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”
“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.
“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”
For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”
“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”
And Azzi does. All night. 
Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box. 
To her royal highness, 
Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do. 
~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~
(And you better show up Bueckers)
Yours, 
Azzi
February 2033
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”
Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”
“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is. 
Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible. 
Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand. 
And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else. 
“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”
“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said. 
“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest  look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”
Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”
“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”
“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender. 
“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body. 
“Ice-” she begins.
But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”
“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum. 
“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”
“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips. 
“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”
“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself. 
“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters. 
“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.
“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK. 
“A matter of time till what?”
“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”
***
The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today.  From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her. 
“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”
Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments. 
“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all. 
The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance. 
“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”
“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm. 
Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”
“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”
“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.
“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple. 
“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”
“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this. 
“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”
Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference. 
***
Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is. 
“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter. 
“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation. 
“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”
Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”
“Oliv-”
“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”
“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”
“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’
“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”
“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”
***
It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige. 
She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”
“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles. 
“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body. 
“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”
Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”
“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly. 
“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow. 
“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”
“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”
Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”
“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.
“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly. 
As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now. 
“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”
“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”
Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”
“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go,  really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”
Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe. 
“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”
“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk. 
Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”
“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”
Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”
“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie. 
“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look 
“But Mama-”
“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too. 
“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”
“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”
“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”
“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”
With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out. 
“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch. 
Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”
“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”
Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”
“I have connections.”
“You talked to Ice.”
“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”
“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”
“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly. 
“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses 
Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”
“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”
Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”
“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”
Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”
“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”
“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself. 
“What is?” 
“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”
Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”
There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold. 
Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.
“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her. 
“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”
“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple. 
“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.
“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”
“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people. 
“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone. 
Paige smiles, “of course you can.”
“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”
“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone. 
“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”
Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”
I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever. 
“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand. 
“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone. 
“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”
Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.
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sebsbarnes · 9 months ago
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phantom pain || pietro maximoff
pietro maximoff x reader
summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been
warnings: insecurities, none really?? (i think)
word count: 2.9k+ ; angst, comfort
masterlist
a/n: this is a rewrite of a bucky fic i wrote 6 years ago but now much longer, better, and for pietro. sorry for grammar/editing mistakes that are prob here but still enjoy
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pietro knew you had been hiding something. he had known you for three years and had been dating you for almost two. over the course of the months and weeks spent with the other he had grown accustomed to your silent cues. the silence that would consume you when tony's party carried on too late and you desperately wished to exit or when you performed poorly during training and steve berated you with tips. but mostly the silence that would linger around you when you were alone. not all the time, no, but there were times when pietro could feel and see the physical shift in your body language.
he never wanted to pry not as a friend or a boyfriend. pietro understood that every avenger has a past life, one that the others are unaware of. though he loved playing back the memories of his childhood and his parents, he too would shift into a silent shell of a person and he would want nothing more than to be left alone and not questioned. pietro loved the abilities he had but some days he wondered whether the extreme heat of his body or the slow-moving world around him actually made him sad. life was no longer normal, his body was no longer normal, nothing was normal.
this is exactly how you felt. the tragedies in your life were sometimes unbearable and if you could disappear you would but you had so much to be thankful for. if it wasn't for the accident you wouldn't be an avenger, you wouldn't have the friends you have, you wouldn't experience even half of what you've had now, and you wouldn't have pietro, the love of your life. at the end of the day you were alive and more than often, incredibly happy.
but there were those times you fell into silence over your newfound life, mainly the consequences of the accident. your memory still struggled, you were weak for a very long time, and when the weather got too cold you could feel the ache in your bones. you weren't like the rest of the avengers who possessed special abilities or were highly skilled in combat. three and a half years ago you were a normal person. you had a normal life, job, family, and friends, up until the accident. and every day the phantom pain reminds you of what was taken.
it was winter when you first met all the avengers. they all lived together and after you recovered from the accident, tony wanted you here, to live here. you protested the idea for a while claiming that tony's generosity was far too much. he had already saved you from the accident and offering a space to live and a job was incredulous, but after much debate you agreed. that first day you silently sat in the corner of the room while all the avengers had a meeting. you swayed back and forth in the rolling chair, taking in the information and occasionally stealing glances at a silver-haired man.
"and this is (y/n)!," tony exclaimed, "our newest friend here so please for the love of god be kind during the acclamation period. i'm already prematurely greying and i don't need anymore."
the meeting was over and one by one the avengers came to greet you, offering their names and welcomes and soon the silver-haired man approached you.
pietro stuck his hand out to shake yours. he found it odd that despite the room being almost swelteringly hot from the heater, you still had your gloves on.
"i'm pietro."
it was about three weeks later you found yourself sitting with pietro, clint, steve, and natasha. everyone was sitting on the couch talking about whatever topic you possibly could conjure up. there was a lull in conversation before clint spoke up.
"hey," he said turning towards you, "why do you have gloves on?"
it was as if clint never spoke and without missing a beat you stood up, looking down at pietro, "wanna help me finish building my desk?"
pietro hesitated a moment, eyes flickering over to clint, "of course."
pietro had come to learn not to question why you covered your hands in those first few months. any mention of you hiding them was never met with an answer. he was protective of you and he felt himself falling for you each day, and you the same. the two of you did a lot together, you cooked, clean, went out, watched movies, almost everything together and you loved it. it felt like home here and pietro felt like home.
it was a big dinner, the night you finally took your gloves off. there was no special reason why, to be frank, you just decided to no longer be embarrassed.
"c'mon kid we all got something weird about us. i play in a suit all day, cap runs around in tights, pietro is faster than the speed of light, and parker shoots webs... from his hands!" tony ranted on.
you sighed, "i know. i just feel weird on top of this because i am still new here."
"we all have been new," tony started, inspecting your hands one final time, "no one will judge you, kid, but take it at your own pace. you don't owe anyone nothing. well, maybe except me," he winked.
only two hours later you were all seated at the big table with everyone to eat. from tony, to pietro, to thor, to natasha, to sam, everyone was here. next to you was tony and rhodey, pietro across from you pulling funny faces while the food was served out. you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap trying to stall picking up the fork and knife. everyone had started eating and chatting amongst the group when you finally lifted your arms to the table and started cutting into the chicken.
pietro watched as you shifted in your seat, your forearms coming to rest on the white cloth and your fingers wrapping around the fork and knife. the first time he has ever seen your hands.
your metal hands.
after that night there were murmurs throughout the crew about the state of your hands. people were confused why someone who led a normal life ended up with metal hands, similar to bucky's arm. the word accident had floated through the air but you never commented on it.
winter had turned into spring that ended all too quickly and now it was the dead of summer. the day was slow and pietro was bored and craving movement. his head was hanging over the arm of the couch, his silver hair hung to the floor.
"want to get ice cream?" he asked.
"it's like you read my mind," you grinned swiping your wallet off the counter.
you and pietro wandered around town aimlessly before stopping at the ice cream shop. he admired the way you threw your head back in laughter and the way you covered your mouth when he said something outlandish. even though pietro's body ran warm he could feel the increasing heat spread throughout his cheeks each time you shot him a smile and his name rolled off your lips.
in an instant, he thought he ruined it all when he reached out and wrapped his fingers in yours. he felt your fingers twitching and the way you misstepped.
"i'm sorry," accent thick as he retracted his hand.
you smiled softly at him before gently grabbing his hand, "don't be."
it was that day over a hot fudge sundae that you told pietro what had happened. it was a horrible car accident early in the winter before you met the avengers. there were several cars and buses involved. not only did you lose your hands that day but your family. tony was also in this accident, his car had actually collided with yours, though his vehicle wasn't the one that caused your injuries. he had rushed to help you and immediately took on a parental role when he observed the condition of everyone else in the car. you were bruised and bloody with several fractured bones, but mainly, every bone in both your hands were shattered beyond repair. tony took you to his doctors where you all came to the difficult decision that your hands had to go, but tony offered you a solution. to replace the once skin and bones with metal.
pietro listened the entire time letting you go on and on to which you apologized for being boring. 'no dragă' he would whisper and you continued on with his thumb running over your knuckles. the gesture comforted you but the voice in the back of your head nagged that it was out of pity.
the months began to fly past faster than you could imagine. you and pietro were inseparable. anytime the members walked past the two of you they'd fake gag or pretend to cry. once wanda had muttered under her breath how she never thought pietro would actually date someone. you would only get shy over it and pietro found it amusing and would pinch at your cheeks. it was only when the two of you officially started dating when pietro would notice the different type of silence you'd fall into.
he would sometimes catch you sitting on the edge of your bed staring at your hands the features on your face contorted with disgust.
"what is the matter?" he questioned.
"oh nothing," you sighed with a fake smile, placing your hands beside you.
or the times pietro noticed the way you hesitated before touching him.
"am i that scary dragă?" pietro joked with a sickly smile.
your features would soften and the lines between your brows disappeared, "the most terrifying," you winked.
or the times pietro saw the way you gazed at other people's hands when they came into contact with pietro.
"doesn't his hair look good like this?" wanda asked you as she finished braiding her brother's hair. the two of them looking at you in the mirror.
you didn't respond right away. you were too distracted watching the way her fingers weaved their way through his silver hair and grazed his scalp while pulling hair into its pattern. with the most pitiful smile, you responded.
"amazing."
pietro knew that eventually, you would confide in him over the way you viewed your hands. he didn't want to overstep, that wasn't the relationship the two of you had. the late nights pietro spent shaking under the blankets from nightmares, you never asked him. you held him close to you and hummed a small tune to calm him down and you did that every night without fail. one day over breakfast he finally confided in you over the terrors that haunted his dreams.
what pietro didn't expect was that today on your second anniversary was the day you would finally scream your frustrations out. the two of you weren't doing anything special and nor did you want to. all the avengers insisted you at least leave home and do something for a little while. that's why you found yourselves lazily walking around a park, hand-in-hand, arms swinging and shoulders bumping. the sound of laughter echoed through the park and you swore the leaves shook. you were happy, beyond happy. pietro and you were madly in love and there wasn't one thing you could wish for, maybe.
suddenly the wind picked up and the dark clouds rolled above and unleashed raindrops that were nearly the size of baseballs.
"oh my god!" you squealed.
"it is so cold!" pietro laughed loudly.
you were squinting through the pouring rain, your hair and clothes plastered to your skin, pietro was dancing around in a circle with his tongue out in hopes of catching the water. pietro grabbed onto your forearms pulling you into him.
"you look so cute right now," he yelled over the thunderous rain.
"don't be silly! i look like a mess!" you giggled slightly swatting at his chest.
pietro leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. his smile growing wider as if his mouth was a plant and the rain was helping it grow. his fingers brushed the hair out of your face and kissed you once more on the forehead.
"there's so many droplets on your lashes!" you exclaimed. pietro watched your lips pull into a smile. the sun wasn't out but he could've been fooled by the way your eyes shined at him. he watched as you lifted your hand to brush the droplets off, and then suddenly, it all changed.
pietro watched as your smile dropped into parted lips of disgust and shame, your eyebrows pulled together in the middle, and rain was no longer the only thing running down your face. you faltered in your step backward and pietro reached out to steady you but you pulled back further. it was like you were a toy and your batteries had just run out you were so still.
"b-baby what is wrong?" the worried etched onto his face was almost painful.
"i'm jealous," you cried, your bottom lip shaking violently.
pietro shook his head, "my love what is going on? you are worrying me."
you lifted your hands in front of your face, your eyes trailed down every finger and across your palm to the back of your hand. the small metal panels almost mocking you as you could see your eyes reflect back at you. at this moment pietro started to piece together all the instances in the past.
"i can't feel you," you wallowed, "i can't feel your skin, pietro. my hands!" he watched as you stretched your arms out to show him your hands as if he'd never seen them before.
"i'm envious of everything that can feel you! the rain, your clothes, everyone else, but not me, i can't! do you know how badly i want to feel the texture of your hair or the tears you cry or-or the skin on your lips and i can't! i crave the feeling of you and i'll never get to know that. i want to feel the plastic of a pen or grass between my fingers or the calluses of training too hard and i'll never get that again. the phantom pain i have will never be as painful as never being able to hold you with my real hands."
as your cries grew louder the storm cleared up to let you have the stage. you stood in front of pietro as the shell of the person he would see those times you were alone silently observing your hands. even though he wasn't the one yelling, he felt as if his own vocal chords were being shredded, he could feel the chambers in his heart slowly start to shut down one by one, and the burn in his eyes was almost blinding.
he slowly stepped towards you cautious not to make you jerk backwards again. the tears in each of your eyes seemed to sync up and roll down together. pietro gently grabbed your hand, grateful that you let him, and held it to his cheek.
"this, my love, this is me. this is the me that only you will know and no one else. it is not the same as everyone else but different much like us," he said gently, his other hand gesturing between your bodies, "if i could do anything in the world, no matter the cost, to help with your hands i would and i am so sorry i cannot," pietro was now holding your face in his hands.
"but i want you to know i love you for everything that you are and i always will. no matter what the future has in store for us, in my heart, you will always be first. and- and i know there are other reasons why you dislike your hands but i never want to be the reason that you dislike something about yourself. maybe i can talk to mr. stark, yeah?" he pondered nodding his head rapidly, "maybe we can figure something out and give your hands an upgrade. maybe he knows someone?"
you sniffled, looking lovingly at pietro who was trying to think of any possibility even though you both had discussed in the past that there was nothing that could be done for your hands. that day tony saved you was the best opportunity you could get to help your hands and nothing in the world could beat it.
"i love you so much pietro, you are everything i could ask for in a boyfriend and more," you spoke, resting your face further into his hands.
pietro ran his hands across your shoulders and down your arms to hold onto your wrists. he brought your hand up to his face and placed a delicate kiss to your fingertips until all ten were loved. pietro pulled you into a hug, one palm resting flat against your spine and the other holding the back of your head. you leaned into his chest and let your ear listen to the thump of his heart. the two of you stood there motionless. minutes passed by and neither of you dared to move. to an unobservant eye, you two could've passed as a statue. two lovers forever memorialized in the dusk of the sky, the rain puddles collecting at your feet, and a love story forever admired over.
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cosyvelvetorchid · 5 months ago
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Just sat here thinking about maybe in a couple of years time, Tommy and Buck are at the arrivals gate waiting to pick up Maddie, Chim and Jee-yun who had been visiting the parents in Pennsilvania.
Tommy leaves to go to the bathroom leaving Buck alone. He's looking through the throng of people coming towards him trying to spot Maddie until he hears his name in a familiar voice.
"Buck?"
"A-Abby? Uh, hey."
"How are you?" She asks
"I'm good. How are you?"
"I'm-I'm good."
"Uh, how's Sam?" Buck asked
"We, uh, we broke up. About a year ago."
"Oh. I'm-i'm sorry to hear that." He said sincerely.
"It's fine. I'm fine." She waved away his concerns
"So what are you doing here? You've visiting someone?"
"Uh, no. I'm.. I'm moving back. To L.A."
"Really?" He asks.
"Yeah. Actually I was going to call you. Maybe we could grab a drink. Or something. Catch up?"
"Like.. like a date?"
"Um, I mean, yeah."
"Wow, uh. I'm.. I'm actually married now." He raised the back of his hand to show the silver band on his finger.
"Oh. Uh, wow. Congratulations. Im-Im sorry."
"Don't be. It's fine, really." He says as Tommy walks up and stands beside Buck.
"Oh, hey, this is Abby. Abby, this is my husband, Tommy."
Tommy knew who Abby was. Buck had told him quite early on in their relationship about how she was the first women he'd loved and she'd left to find herself after her mother died.
"Hus- wow! Uh, it's-it's nice to meet you." She stuck her hand out to shake Tommy's.
"Nice to meet you too."
There was a few moments of awkward silence between them until a 6 year old broke it.
"Uncle Tommy, uncle Buck!" Jee-yun came running up towards them practically jumping into Tommy's arms.
"I, uh, should go. It was good to see you, Buck. Nice to meet you." She added towards Tommy before quickly walking away.
"You too." Buck replied, and turned his attention to his husband making stupid faces at their neice, and thinking about how disgustingly happy he was in his life right now.
That's it. That's all I was thinking about.
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liloinkoink · 2 months ago
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hey guys, someone just sent me a weird ass ask claiming my incredibly close friend cherri @cherrifire secretly hate me and is talking abt me behind my back. i was not the only person to get one of these identical slanderous asks. i’ve already blocked the anon but like. open letter to them, and for the benefit of anyone else who gets an ask like this….
1) anon, you’re genuinely fucking stupid
2) hysterical to send this when i was actively chatting w her, while we were in the process of fleshing out yet another renchanting au, something we have done all day every day for… gosh, how long has it been now? nearly two years? i would say that it was really bad timing to send this ask to me while i was actively chatting aus w her but there really isn’t any moment you could have sent this that i wouldn’t have been.
3) if you thought i wasn’t gonna call bullshit and snitch immediately you don’t know shit about me or cherri, which, granted, is evident by the ask in general, but you really are stupid
4) if a gc like this existed—which it does not, bc cherri is not like this and would not do this—i would be in it. this idiot doesn’t even know im cherri’s emotional support writer. do you have any idea how many gcs and servers she’s dragged me into w her.
5) get your facts right cherri talks shit about me to my face. this is mutual. fake ass fan. if you were a real cherri friend you would know this smh
6) no, actually, you’re right, she definitely hates me. that’s why i met her irl literally like 3 months ago on her invitation, we hung out for a genuine week, spent basically the whole time arm in arm or hand in hand. this is also why we were planning a second meetup last night. you idiot. you fool. you complete and utter moron
anyway, if anyone gets this ask:
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it’s complete bullshit. theyre sending this to cherri’s best friends for some godforsaken reason. it’s very weird and deeply cringe. also incredibly poorly planned. idk how many ppl you sent this to, but a few of us are in a gc and we have been making fun of this ask for like an hour (anon, im one of cherri’s friends and she’s been telling a small group of friends about you— lol. lmao even)
anyway like. to reiterate. cherri’s one of my best friends, she’s absolutely lovely and i’m lucky every day to know her. we hang out and chat constantly and we’ve met irl and it was an incredible experience i would love to repeat. i have told her things i have not fuckin told anyone else and you could not otherwise waterboard out of me. i love talking to her all the time and i miss her when she’s busy for even like, an hour. i love writing w her and creating things w her. she’s an incredibly bright spot in my life, often the first person i think of upon waking and the last i think of before i sleep. she is kind and funny and i love her a lot.
i’m a bitch tho so like @ this anon go fuck yourself. you better hope that when you die that the devil finds you before i do. sending this ask to a bunch of our friends, trying to turn the people she cares about against her, and for what? you clearly don’t know her well enough to be talking like this. trying to ruin my friend’s reputation and friendships w a vague as hell and entirely baseless copy paste is super fucking weird. why would you do this? and like, do you think we were born yesterday to fall for this? i’m insulted for her for whatever it was you were trying to pull and i’m insulted on behalf of myself and everyone else you sent this to that you think we’re as stupid as you are. what is your damage. get a hobby.
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artydonsgf · 6 months ago
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Hey love💕 could u do an arthusband! fic??
hi sweets! i’m in the process of writing husband art but i didn’t wanna keep you waiting so i wrote out a headcanon list! i also included a small nsfw portion for my own delusional giggles, enjoy~
Art Donaldson as your Husband
- when yall start dating, it’s apparent that you’re his first real girlfriend
- he’s fooled around with people before but the eagerness of his kisses and how quickly your touch sends him over the edge makes it clear it was never serious
- you like it though, it’s cute how embarrassed he gets when you stare at him and call him handsome
- amazing bf, top tier communicator
- you discover early one that art does not play about you so he really tries his best to avoid any arguments that aren’t constructive
- extremely gooey and tells you that he wants to marry you in the future like a week into your relationship
- despite how good of a communicator he is, he also gets in his head very easily
- constantly worried that he’s somehow not enough for you and you’ll find someone better
- these worries die down pretty quickly but it sits in the back of his mind sometimes
- said i love you first and he said it after 6 months
- he later told you that he knew after a month but didn’t want to scare you away
- after a year of dating, he gives you a promise ring and swears that he’ll propose to you the moment you guys graduate
- two years in, you guys move in together
- six months later and true to his word, he gives you his grandmother’s ring while you’re both still in your caps and gowns
- the wedding happens quickly since neither of you wanted something big
- your wedding day is the best day of his life, something he tells you a million times throughout the day
- he cried like a baby when you walked down the aisle
- in all of your wedding photos, he’s looking at you like you are the center of the universe
- art settles into married life with ease
- in his mind, you guys have already been married since the moment you agreed to be his girlfriend
- sharing a last name with you is the best thing ever in his mind
- sometimes he’ll call you mrs donaldson just to hear you respond to it
- laughs into his hand when you respond but you already realized what he was doing forever ago
- a true romantic
- leaves flowers and other cute trinkets at your bedside table when he comes home from traveling for games
- he’ll be dead asleep beside you but you’ll always find a small bouquet, breakfast, and a souvenir from whatever town he passed through
- constantly thinks about you
- facetime warrior, he will call you at any time just to hear your voice
- if he’s lucky and you’re able to come with him to games, he spends any spare time curled up in your arms and ask you to just speak
- loves it when you run a hand through his hair, he’ll twist himself into an uncomfortable position if it means you’ll keep scratching his head
- the annoying guy who mentions his wife at any given moment
- “ah yes, my WIFE, also enjoys hiking”
- his idea of a date is dinner and cuddling the whole night
- seems to forget that he can kiss you whenever because he always asks if he can kiss you
- needs you like he needs air, bro is insane about you
- patrick knew about you before he even met you because art spoke about the beautiful girl with the kind eyes and sweet smile for a month before he actually asked you out
- bro was yearning like crazy
- his biggest issue is his jealousy
- starts plotting murder whenever a man speaks to you for too long
- or woman, he’s equal opportunity jealous
- ofc he doesn’t have to worry because you’re always quick to flash your ring and name drop him as your husband in convos
- he’s a very good husband who loves you an insane amount and makes sure to communicate that to you 24/7
NSFW
- legit will do anything you ask of him, so he’s very into experimenting
- your pleasure > his every time
- he enjoys oral but doesn’t really ask for it since he’d prefer to give
- submissive by nature and is happy to let you take charge
- only really dominant after a particularly tough day on the courts
- aftercare KING, he’ll get you cleaned up in two seconds flat so he can keep you in his arms for the rest of the night
- very needy in bed, he wants your constant attention
- total praise kink, he can hardly breathe when you tell him he’s doing a good job
- he had to learn how to control his pace because he used to come immediately
- despite his quickness at finishing, he has insane stamina and will keep you up the whole night
- it’s always you >>> any of his obligations
- more times than you can count, you’ve had to pry him off of you because he had important things to do the next day
- loves quickies
- likes it when you pull his hair
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ninjagobythenumbers · 1 month ago
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Bechdel Testing Ninjago
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So, a little while ago I did the Bechdel test on Ninjago because I've always seen the show as sort of an interesting case study in how women are portrayed in cartoons. Of course, I'm aware the Bechdel test originated as a joke and something passing the Bechdel test doesn't make it feminist/not. Rather, or for me at least, it's an indication of how deficient female representation can be at an aggregate scale. As a way to analyze Ninjago, I feel it works as it shows how female representation over the course of the show. If you're interested I'll now discuss my thoughts on how the analysis went season by season. DISCLAIMER: I did this for fun.
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The pilot was easy. Nya's the only one, so test failed across the board. The first episode that passed the test was when Jay's parents came to visit. Yay Edna! Mystake does show up in episode 7 but, I don't count it as she has not yet been named. 12&13 had a kid's mom in a bus which I decided was enough cus hey, Mom's a name she uses.
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Here's where we really get going. Patty Keys, their real estate agent continues to show up through seabound as a background character, which is pretty cool imo. Episode 5, Mystake finally gets named. Episode 6 was huge for my chart as it's the introduction of Misako. You'd think episode 7 is when her and Nya talked but that's actually when Nya and Gayle had a lil convo. From then on I spent the episodes just staring at the Nya and Misako thinking "talk to her talk to her talk to her." Fortunately, when they did speak, Nya and Misako would be discuss like science, maps, and fate of the world so I never ran into a problem with rule 3. That is, until Rebooted.
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The good news is Pixal's here so it'll be years before we fail rule 1 again. The bad news is we've got a love triangle so goodbye rule 3. Nya actually talked to her student, Sally, and Pixal quite often but it was so often about Jay or Cole so I would just be scouring the episode for a single exchange where they talked about anything else. During the Tournament, Nya, Pixal, Skylor, and Misako were all in different groupings and it was rare that Tox or Camille would say something so no rule 2/3 successes until late season.
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The good news is, the love triangle is over so we're back to rule 2 usually meaning rule 3. The bad news is, Pixal's in Zane's head so we're back to hoping Misako and Nya say something to eachother. Nya usually shared her scenes with Wu, Ronin, and Jay during these seasons so chances were few and far between. However, unlike the first few seasons where the default was male, we're now getting some female henchmen (Bansha and Dogshank) so that made things easier.
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Thank you for being in Day of the Departed Edna Walker. Early Hands of Time was tough because Nya, Misako, and Commander Macchia were rarely in the same scenes. In the latter half of the season though, we thankfully see the return of Pixal. Maya also helped us with some wins.
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What a breath of fresh air. Thanks to Harumi & Ultraviolet's introduction, Pixal's return, Mystake's upgrade to a reoccuring character, and Nya & Misako's continued support, failing even rule 3 is pretty rare during the Oni Trilogy. We run into some complications during Hunted because though we have Skylor and the aforementioned characters in Ninjago and Faith & Jet Jack in the First Realm, sometimes people don't talk to eachother. And that's ok. Overall, smooth sailing.
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Ah??!? What happened. Worry not. I realized this was, in part, because the Oni Trilogy had 20 minutes worth of chances for women to speak to eachother, these were only 10 minute episodes. So, for the sake of comparable units of analysis, I considered each pair of episodes to be 1 episode. I'll show both charts until DR.
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It looks a little better, but it's still not at Oni Trilogy levels. Still, I'd be curious to see what the test would look like if I dissected the earlier episodes into 10 minute chunks because it's probably not a great sign if 10 v 20 minutes makes such a big difference. Ok, proceeding. The Fire Chapter was usually pretty successful because Pixal, Aspheera, or Nya would usually end up talking at one point or another. Gayle even helped at one point. The Ice chapter usually achieved successes through Nya talking to Sorla. In one episode, I counted the Preminent's roars as conversation with Pixal. The Ice Chapter had quite a few failures largely because, as in previous seasons, all the women were split up.
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Despite the fact that Nya was one of the longest lived ninja, Prime Empire has total failures at levels not seen since before season 2. This is largely because for the most part, Pixal and Nya are never in the same episode. Racer 7 helps but she was only there for a bit. I should point out that I feel like the 10 minute era is really when Pixal starts feeling like part of the team to me. She's always part of homebase meetings and always plays a key part in missions. Alas, if she's not in episodes with Nya, that's not going to show up on my chart. It's a reminder of the fact this test doesn't show substance.
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Master of the Mountain is similar to the other seasons of its era. The fact the 10 minute era tended to show its plots episode by episode (ex: Ep 3 = Plot A, Ep 4 = Plot B, Ep 5 = Plot C) rather than all in one really takes a toll on the test. For the most part, Nya and Vania were our only chances for success and it was rare they'd share an episode. We also had the rare rule 3 failure with the Queen of the Munce episode. Thanks Jay. The Island only had Nya until they found Misako, so it was struggling even more.
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It feels right to see all green when it's a Nya season. In the beginning of Seabound, they put Nya, Pixal, and Maya on a boat together and by jove it made things easy. Late season was a bit trickier because Nya was on her own journey. Crystalized had Skylor, Pixal and some ressurected villains saving the day. Late Crystalized is the way it is because it had so, so many different groupings. I have a chart based on groupings and this season was such a challenge.
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I really felt the difference with Dragons Rising. I mean, you can see the difference, but it was even more clear when doing my data collection because it was just so easy. Rather than grabbing at scraps of dialogue like I had to do in early seasons, there was often a wealth of more meaningful conversation between female characters to choose from. As with the Oni Trilogy, a female villain with a female henchman makes things easy because they scheme together. We also had Nya and Sora on a joint quest. Funnily enough, there is a rare rule 3 failure because Sora and Kreel only talked about Kreel's friend in one episode. Episode 17 had the classic split up issue and actually would've failed entirely if not for Agent Underwood, which is actually a great example of my next point. You can really tell how male is no longer the default because not only is there the introduction of all the fantastic new female main characters, but also there's plenty of random female characters scattered throughout. I haven't seen DRS2P2 yet but I expect it'll be more of the same. I should mention I also made a chart with the reverse (two named men in an episode who talk about eachother about something besides a woman). Only three episodes fail in any capacity. (Say thank you to the Akita, Pixal, and Harumi solo episodes). If you read this whole thing, thank you. I had a lot of fun doing it. Let me know if there's any other charts I can do!
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mywitchyblog · 2 months ago
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Storytime : My hatred of shiftok
Hey everyone, I wanted to share a personal story that highlights why I’ve grown to strongly dislike Shiftok (the shifting community on TikTok).
This isn’t about throwing shade at the concept of shifting itself, because I’ve been part of the practice for years and found immense value in it.
However, my recent experience in an online shifting community vastly composed of younger members made me realize just how toxic and judgmental it can become.
I’m not here to stir up drama, but to share my story so that others who may have gone through similar situations can feel less alone. Sometimes, online communities, especially when comprised of younger members, can be less about support and more about mob mentality behacing like mindless sheep. And unfortunately, I found myself at the center of that.
Here’s what happened:
Around 6 months ago,I joined a Discord server dedicated to shifting (made by a shiftoker), but for the first few days, I didn’t really engage much. I’m the kind of person who likes to observe a bit before jumping in. After a while, I noticed they had a voice chat, so I figured I’d join in, thinking I could find some deep conversations and intelligent debate on shifting. I was wrong. Very wrong.
Their debate originally was about race changing, and since this is an extreamly controversial subejct on which the 3 of us in the groupchat agreed with, i though maybe age changing would be the case.
Very fucking foolish of me.Very.
I’ve been aware of shifting for about years, ever since I was 16. During that time, I wrote numerous scripts where I imagined dating my comfort characters, and though I haven’t successfully shifted yet, I’m still determined to experience that so i never gave up trying to shift there. Recently, I started questioning a particular aspect of shifting and decided to ask the community for guidance.
The dilemma? I wanted to know if it would be wrong to shift into a younger version of myself to experience the teenage romance I never had. Growing up, I missed out on those typical teenage expereinces, and I thought that shifting could allow me to relive that part of my life that was denied from me .
Thats is how i discivered shifting when i think about it . I was extreamly sour and bitter at the time seeing people my age going out, having a group of friends a romantic partner while i was sulking in my room still scarred by the years of bullying .i couldnt fucking stand it.
So is started shouting ,cussing, insulting, screaming at the universe that it owed me a debt for all the shit i put me through; that it owed me a debt that it can never pay back. And that i was here to collect that debt.
Next thing i know ? Shifting videos start appearing in my FYP and the rest i supposed if you discovered shifting in 2020 you know how it goes.
I asked the community: Since I’m now over 18, would it be unethical to age myself down and live through those scripted expereinces and relationships? My intentions were pure. It wasn’t about fetishizing youth —I just wanted to experience something I had missed out on. And also i made those DRs long ago so i do not want to give up after trying for years.
I explained that shifting is about exploring realities that differ from your current one, and to aslo expereince things that are impossible for you to do in your current so why not experience a teenage romance that I didn’t have?
I also emphasized that both me and the characters regardless of if i age myself down or i age them up we will have the same maturity so there is no power imbalances of any kind. I beleived that if I script myself as being 16, I would naturally have the mindset and maturity of a 16-year-old without having to script "i also have the maturity of my physical age".
(wich after further research and having shifted myself confirmed it to be true)
Some people were actually helpful, suggesting that I could just age the characters up to match my current age, that there was nothing wrong since your intention isnt "shifting for minors" but shifting for an experience and I thought that was a reasonable statement. However, as more teenagers (13 to 15-year-olds) started jumping into the chat, the conversation took a turn for the worse. Suddenly, they started accusing me of wanting to date minors, labeling me as a creep and even throwing around terms like "pedophile." They insisted I should go to jail, even though I hadn’t done anything inappropriate—just asked for advice.
Mind you, these were the same people who had desired realities where they were 50 something with kids 15 with a highschool sweetheart in another. It felt incredibly hypocritical that they were comfortable shifting to various ages, but when I wanted to explore an earlier phase of my own life in a healty wholesome manner, I was suddenly a villain.
As the accusations escalated, I even suggested aging the characters up, so they’d match my current age. But no matter what I said, they kept insisting I was still in the wrong. They claimed that because I had once found teenagers attractive when I was a teenager, I was somehow a predator now ("because something must have made you attracted to them when they were minors"). It was like they were twisting everything I said, refusing to understand my intentions.
It was infuriating. They accused me of things I wasn’t even thinking about. These were serious claims, and I couldn’t defend myself because they were so quick to misinterpret my words and take everything out of context. They were acting like I was trying to groom people in my desired reality (DR), even though I was merely exploring hypothetical scenarios.
The same people who preached that you could do anything you wanted in your desired reality, without limits,that you had all the time in the wormd to shift so no pressure were suddenly placing restrictions on me—telling me what was ethical and what wasn’t. They told me I was "grooming" the characters in my DR by aging them up, which is just ridiculous.
When I pointed out the inconsistency, suggesting they might technically be "grooming" people in their own current reality (CR) since they shift into different ages, or that their s/o from one of their adult DR is grooming them because in another reality there are a minor, they became defensive started blabbing "its not the same thing" and had no real arguments to back up their accusations.
At this point, it felt like I was being burned at the stake just for asking a question. I realized I wasn’t going to get a rational conversation out of this group, and the mob mentality was too strong. So, I left the server, and honestly, it was the best decision.
If there’s one piece of advice I can give from this experience, it’s this: if you find yourself in an online shifting community made up mostly of teenagers (13-16 years old), run. They can and WILL be quick to jump to conclusions, misinterpret your words, and label you unfairly.
In the end, I found better communities where the members are mature, thoughtful, and open to real discussions. If you’re facing similar issues, I encourage you to be cautious about the spaces you engage with. Make sure you find a community that values open, respectful conversations—where people don’t leap to judgments or throw around serious accusations without understanding your intentions.
Which is why i started making this page and publising these essays in the first place.Because no one provide a clear fucking answers in this types of question just saying "its bad", "because it is" without providing substantial arguments to back up their claims.
So i was "if no one is gonna do it, i will" and i did and it turns out these people are even more pathetic than i thought. Key exemple of that is instead of countering my arguments the only thing they have is accusing me of using Chat GPT.
So things to take from my story are :
-Leave shiftok for good its is not good for information or shifting knowledge. Shifting script templates and inspo ? yes. Information & knowledge ? RUNNNNNNNNNN.
-The most vehement critics within the community are the biggest hypocrites. They will call you a pedo for aging down but on the same vein will age up only to get fucked by they fav dilfs. Those against race changing will still race change just to diff species and races that are fictonal in this reality .
-Do what makes you feel good and do not lisen to these people, they are sour bitter and pathetic individuals its your journey you desired reality not theirs.
So i hope this story of mine will help people understand that you should feel bad about about wanting to shift to those DRs.That it will bring you wisdom and help to all the teenage shifters that are approching 18 and are scared that they are doing someting bad trust me you are not bad you are doing something pure and wholesome do not let them go to your head it will only slow you down in your journey.
Best of Luck in you shifitng Journey,
Alastor Luno.
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denial-permanente · 16 days ago
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Hey how are you? Big fan of your page and content. At the beginning of this year I confessed to my girlfriend of 6 years that I have a chastity fetish and I wanted her to lock my member up while we had our “fun time”. Surprisingly she was very open to the idea and we soon incorporated a chastity cage into our sex life. It has been amazing. It has opened a new side to me that I never knew existed. It took a bit of getting used to for the both of us but over time we have come to adore it. A majority of the time we have sex now my girlfriend instructs me to put my cage on before we begin.
A couple of weeks ago I brought up the idea of wearing the chastity cage for a longer period of time rather than only during our fun time. She interested with the idea but she believed it impossible.
For a little bit of context, we live together but due to work I’m only home from Friday nights when I get off of work till Monday mornings when I have to leave for work again.
Knowing this my girlfriend had quite a handful of concerns.
1. Her absolute biggest concern was she believed there was no way I could properly clean myself down there while locked in a cage. She says that wearing the cage for longer than a few hours at a time would be extremely de-hygienic and nasty.
2. Her next biggest concern is that since we only really see each other 2 days a week she thinks that there’s too much time between us seeing each other. “what if you NEED to get the cage off on a Monday, like an incident happens at work but we’re nowhere near each other and you have to wait all the way till Friday when you see me again?”
Because of this concern I tried to negotiate with what if I wore it during the weekends when I’m home. But then she rebuttals with “you basically already do so what difference would it make?”
3. A smaller concern for her is she is uncertain of the risks that come with wearing a chastity cage for long periods of time. An example she said was “what if you wore the cage for too long and your dick started to shrink?” I tried to tell her that that was just a myth but she seemed pretty adamant.
I guess my question is do you have any advice on what to do in this type of situation? Any words of wisdom that I could tell her in order to ease her mind about this? She says she would love to at least give it a try but she’s far too concerned about all the things that could go wrong. She says she thinks wearing a chastity cage for longer periods of time is just too unrealistic and isn’t possible.
It’s something that I’d love to do so should I try to talk to her about it again or just give up on the idea?
Believe it or not, I am probably like your girlfriend in that I worry about the practical aspects. For a very long time I would worry about what if my husband had an accident, or what if he had to remove it and didn't have the key. Even now, 25 years later I still sometimes worry if I know he's doing something dangerous like working on the roof or hiking in the woods or something. All I can say is that those concerns eventually get less and less concerning as time goes on and wearing a cage becomes second nature to the both of you.
I will let @that-tom-allen answer the part about hygiene and shrinkage, but in all these years that has never been a problem. I'm sure he can explain it better. I can tell you that I don't ever remember him having any issues.
A lot of men seem to want to rush into being lockedn24/7. Your girlfriend is being cautious and concerned. If she has a Tumblr account please have her message me for questions or even just moral support.
🔏 Tom here. First, as @mrs--edge wrote, if possible have your gf drop by to ask her soenof these questions directly. You can create an account for her, she doesn't need to be posting anything. Actually, considering some of the chastity related material on Tumblr, maybe you don't want her looking at too much. 😏
I don't know what kind of cage you have. My routine is to shower at night, and let things air dry. Then in the morning I put a dab of Gold Bond cream inside and swab it around with a Q tip. The cream is water soluble and will pick up body oil, sweat, stray urine, etc., and will wash out easily in a hot shower.
It also helps to have a tiny brush to swab around some soapy water inside the cage during your shower. I almost never need to unlock my cage to clean.
Now, about the shrinkage. I have a post on here about that. Check the FAQ for more detail, but here's the quickie: shrinkage is a myth, usually written about by guys who have SPH fetishes. The penis is not a muscle, and does not atrophy like muscle. It is mainly a meat hydraulic tube of connective tissue and blood vessels. Shrinkage is mainly a factor of the hydraulic balloons not having a chance to stretch out. Removing the cage and getting a few days of, err, healthy exercise should be sufficient to bring things back to size.
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sxeraphfic · 7 months ago
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6 with Loki!! NSFW please (maybe smut? hhaha) he’s saying!!! thankss
DETECTIVE LOKI -  JEALOUSY NSFW PROMPT    
╰┈➤“It looked like he was trying to flirt with you”
Pairing: David Loki x reader 
Word count: 2232
WARNINGS: p in v sex, creampie, slight grinding, possessive sex, biting, marking, swearing, average dirty talk, spanking, palming, semi-public, loki is a little bit of a grump at the start, not super ooc i hope, both of you are a little toxic lol, fingers in mouth. Let's assume birth control is in place here. Lol. Think that's it, there might be more. 
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈  
This is actually my first ever published nsfw fic, so please go easy on me <3 Enjoy my loves!
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You and Loki had been coworkers for what felt like an eternity by now, he was a diligent person who took his occupation acutely seriously. Which is grounds for why he managed to not only get promoted up to being a sergeant of the sector you worked in, but also have exclusive access to his own private office and dictatorship over other workers' roles. Unmistakably, he is incredible as a detective and supervisor. That being said, he isn't perfect. He’s reckless, arrogant, stubborn, cocky,  antisocial, a workaholic  and breaking what would be considered a societal rule of workplaces. Don't mess around with your coworker! 
You two had been in a secret situationship for around almost a year now, casual but also intense. No-one in your work suspected a thing either, Loki was just as good at hiding things as he was at figuring them out. The thing about casual yet intense secret situationships is that how concrete the “relationship” actually is, could be considered shaky. He’s never really explicitly made it clear to even you what you both are, despite spending almost every waking hour outside of work together whether that be romantic dates, cuddling, sex etc. Did this frustrate you? Yes. You wanted him to be emotionally available and ready for you, to not have to wonder to yourself whether he even considers you an actual partner or not. You'd bring up the question and he would act so stupidly nonchalant about it or say he just wants to “let it go with the flow.”  
Does he even give a shit? You sighed to yourself staring at the timed out screen of your computer, leaning back and stretching your back and arms out. 
Before you could go back to your daydreams, or work for that matter. You heard one of your coworkers call out your name from across the room. 
“Hey! y/n! y/n! C'mere for a sec.” Your coworker Miles announced 
Your cheeks widened, Miles was a relatively new guy around your age. He was kind of childish, bright, bubbly and overall just a nice guy. You were assigned to train him and since then he's more or less stuck by your side and been a great coworker for you to do cases and research with.  
Making your way over to his desk you spotted a certain someone from the corner of your eye. Loki, walking towards another coworker's desk yet clearly distracted by whatever you were up to. He thinks he's good at having a poker face, and he is. Just not with you, that furrowed eyebrow and light frown said it all. It's mainly your fault he's on high alert right now though, a few nights ago you felt tired of feeling like you were just an undecided casual fling for him. And so you may have.. Accidentally made a point that if he doesn't make a decision on what you guys are, you'll find someone else to be the one for you.     
It pissed him off, clearly. But you assumed that you were both over that silly little argument by now since things had been relatively normal, but guesses are that wasn't the case.  You and  Miles chatted for around ten minutes or so, maybe even less. You giggled a few times here and there and even absent mindedly placed your hand on his shoulder, in the back of your head you realised how this may look to Loki and internally shuddered.
He began to stutter, “oh..oh um.. By the way y/n”  
“Yes Miles?”
“I was thinking..um.. Well if you want to at some point we would like.. Maybe hang outside of work? Go to a bar or something?” he continued on “i mean- it's fine if not but y’know.. You're so sweet and kind to me… and well, beautiful.”  
You saw from the corner of your eye Loki making his way over, oh boy.  
“We are doing work here right, the two of you?” he asked sternly. You rolled his eyes at him “Yes Loki, we are. It's just unlike you, some people have lives outside of work” Miles looked awkwardly between you and Loki, the tension in the air was insanely thick. “Yeah uh.. Sorry about that Loki. I guess I got kind of distracted since y/n is fun to talk to” he smiled before semi-flirtatiously winking at you. Loki didn't twitch a single muscle in his face, you gave Miles an awkward smile to alleviate the atmosphere. Before Loki scoffed and pointed towards your desk “y/n. Off back to your desk please. I have some paperwork I need you to fill.” and then proceeded to turn to miles ``Miles, i know you're new here but flirting and dating is strictly prohibited in the workplace. If I catch that again you will be in trouble.” You huffed and walked away, how hypocritical of him..
It was past 11 pm now, the station was practically empty besides maybe a few less than a dozen people working. Loki had so happened to ask you to stay back to “talk about documents,” but you were well aware of what the conversation was really about. You walked into his office, immediately crossing your arms together.  
“Come closer.'' He directed, pointing you to stand next to him as he sat down in his chair finishing up some paperwork. “So, wanna explain what was happening earlier? I saw that. And heard it” he continued on “It looked like he was trying to flirt with you, or maybe you were trying to flirt with him too.”
You extended your hand to his back, slowly moving up to his shoulder and beginning to massage him gently to cool him off. “Well no i wasn't flirting with him, but i didn't realise we were exclusive like that David.” he scoffed, and you huffed in return. “last time i checked our thing was barely even a thing right? Hardly even a label on it,” you began to apply more pressure to his shoulders. “Thats fucking hilarious” he asserted with an unfriendly grin, “So you want us to be an official thing and yet you accept others flirting with you right infront of me, really?” he pushed your hands off him and in response you glared at him. He continued on, “After our little argument the other day you have to have some sort of understanding on why I might be fuckin’ concerned.”
“What? I hardly accepted it..and even so you expect me to just sit around here waiting for you to be ready to label our relationship??? How about you look at the reality here David. You refuse to make the claim on me. Maybe someone like Miles would actually be able to commit and I appreciate the idea of it.” 
David looked at you with shame on his face, something strangely comforting considering the argument you were in right now and his usual stubborn self. “Look Y/N, I know.. That i'm not exactly good at this whole thing. I’m so used to being alone that the thought of giving myself fully to someone.. well.. scares me.” he placed face into his palm “I don't want to be uncommitted to you, i want you to be mine. And maybe this has made me realise that.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to sit on his lap, wheeling his chair back a little for space. “The thought of some little twerp like Miles flirting with you drives me crazy.  I know it's selfish but I want you to myself without the fear of uh.. Well, abandonment.”  
You stretched your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against his “I'm not leaving you David.. You're all I want.” “So make me yours please, commit me to me..” you whispered to him softly. His breath hitched and he sighed, pressing his lips against yours before tugging at your bottom lip ever so slightly with his teeth. The pinch of it made you squeak, you reached up to his hair and tugged on it tenderly. He pushed you up against him so he could have proper access to your neck, Slowly biting and sucking it between different places to give you light bruises. You moaned, beginning to rock your hips against him to gain some pressure against your clothed pussy. The sound of him growling against your neck as he sucked on the skin vibrated right down to your core, “Fuck this feels good, David” you gasped. “God y/n i want to ravage you right now” he whispered against you before leaning into another deep kiss, you could feel his dick throbbing through his pants as you both swirled and pressed tongues together. 
You began to palm him through his pants during your kiss, stroking and feeling up the growing length. “David.. What if we get caught?” you said in between breaths. He choked out a stammered laughed in response “Fuck i don't even know if i care y/n, i need you so badly i wouldn't mind if people found out.” You giggled slightly, staring deeply into his eyes. “That's just your dick talking, but it's pretty empty in the station.. I'm sure it'll be fine.” You used that to cue him to start pulling down your pencil skirt and panties, whilst you unbuttoned his shirt and undressed his lower region halfway down to his thighs. His dick was hard and leaking with precum, his face flushed red. “You look so needy right now dave.” he sighed in response and you snickered as you began to grind your exposed wet pussy against his cock. He began rubbing his sticky hot tip up against your clit for extra stimulation and you whined, settling your head against his shoulder weakly. He furrowed his brow and showed his toothy grin “Look at you. a complete mess in my office on my lap, what happened to me being needy?”  Before you could get another rebuttal in, he moved his hands down your body to your hips and began to align your hole to his cock. As he steadily pushed into you he groaned into your neck. “Fuuuck y/n” he murmured as he began to thrust up and down, you moaned in response pulling against his hair. He swiftly spanked your ass with one hand and placed the other around the nape of your neck massaging it, enjoying the whimpers and mewls he’d pull from your lips.  
Unexpectedly the two of you heard footsteps from outside his office, both of you froze in place unsure of what to do 
“Detective Loki? Are you there? May I come in please?” a voice of one of your coworkers called from outside the door 
You expected him to stop and pull you off, but he smirked coyly and inserted three fingers into your mouth and began to slowly thrust into you again. You arched your back in response, trying to contain your moans and noises of slurping from the drool beginning to fill your mouth and dribble down your chin.  
“Uh.. yeah i'm in here, look i need some uh.. um.. space for the moment” he awkwardly yelled back out, even you could see in his eyes that his adrenaline was at a maximum right now. What on earth was he thinking? 
“Oh.. i have some pretty important paperwork man i-” David interrupted him before he could finish, “Please just leave it at your desk and i'll..” he stared at the way you were grinding up and down onto his dick, before snapping back to reality,  “...come pick it up when I'm ready.” David was struggling to contain himself. He gazed into your eyes as you swirled your tongue around his fingers pushing in and out of your mouth, simultaneously thrusting his cock slowly and deeply inside of you. The warmth and stickiness of your bodies pressed against each other made him melt back into his leather chair.
As soon as he heard the door from outside his office shut he briskly lifted you up and flipped you over onto your stomach against his desk, he leaned down pressing his chest against your back, the pressure of his weight crushing you was so intense yet felt so good. “God you're sexy y’know that?” he half whined half growled into your ear, his thrusts becoming more and more powerful. You cried out in pleasure, unable to move or escape from the position. He pulled your hair to gain access to your ear, gently nibbling on your lobe as he continued his deep and sharp thrusts. “You’re all fucking mine y/n” he groaned, “Oh god i feel like i'm gonna cum David. Please cum in me” You yelped out squirming beneath him, gripping onto the edge of his now mess of a desk. He didn't need to be told twice to do so, he buried his face into your neck before pressing a final thrust into you, loading thick streams of cum inside. You practically shrieked, it felt incredible.  
Afterwards you both just sat there together on his chair, unsure of what to do with the mess you made. But content and loving in each other's arms with him stroking his fingers through your hair.
“Bet he couldn't make you feel that good ay?” he chuckled.
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partially proof read, will come back to check on it when i wake up <3
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shy-taylorsversion · 8 months ago
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Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.
Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(
A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)
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March 2010
  Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping. 
She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.  
           “Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”  
The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often. 
           “Depends, who is this?”  
    The response was almost immediate. 
          “Don’t do me like that, Y/n”
 She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush. 
          “I’m at a bar, what do you want?” 
         “Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.” 
In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.   
They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood. 
   They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone. 
     Her phone buzzed in her hand again. 
       “I miss you.” 
Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address. 
Present, April 2011
  “What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.” 
  Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow. 
  Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months. 
It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days. 
 “He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”  
   “Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“ 
 “Bye, Sam.” 
  The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road. 
   It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid. 
 Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was. 
   She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out. 
    That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.  
 The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.  
     “C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.” 
A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it. 
   She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult. 
  A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.
    She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.  
    God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point. 
   “You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”
       He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy. 
    She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.  
  She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive. 
  He’d left like an assassin. 
   Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged. 
     In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect. 
 “I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.” 
The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby. 
  She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half. 
   She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal. 
     Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms. 
   Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.  
   “I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.” 
   Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling. 
     “I’m so glad you’re back.” 
   “Yeah, me too.” 
A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes. 
  The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again. 
Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.   
    “Let’s get started?” 
March 2010 
“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.
   She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front.  Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second. 
 Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.
   “C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.” 
Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door. 
     “Sorry, Sammy.”  Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.” 
Present, April 2011
   Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.  
According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help. 
   Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then. 
   She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet. 
Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him. 
  Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.
    A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun. 
      The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night. 
       She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor. 
        Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her. 
   She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground. 
     She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.
She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor. 
   Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place. 
“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?” 
“Yeah, You?” 
She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him. 
    “I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.  
   Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side. 
  Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop. 
    “What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled. 
“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps. 
“I am fine.”  She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.  
    The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished. 
He was here, touching her, after so long. 
  Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting. 
 This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.
  She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs. 
   The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark. 
  They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them. 
 Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.  
 They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.  
   They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.  
     None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her. 
  Now they knew she was there.
 Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one. 
   Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact. 
    She swung. 
The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up. 
Its head hit the floor. 
She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire. 
   The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.  
Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment. 
“Time for drinks?” 
Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready. 
   She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do.  She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less. 
“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”  
  Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms. 
She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong. 
   “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.”  She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him. 
    She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut. 
“Y/n, look at me.”  
She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.  
 Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft.  She knew where this was going. 
  Dean took a deep breath before starting.  
“Look, what I did-” 
“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat. 
“I just-”
“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.” 
 Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed. 
  “Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.” 
Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest.  He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished. 
   “Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much. 
     His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears. 
    “Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?” 
      “Y/n.” 
She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.  
  “You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face. 
   “Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.” 
His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away. 
   “It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.” 
She let out a bitter laugh. 
 She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go. 
  She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion. 
    “Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.  
He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 
   “For what it's worth, I am sorry.” 
The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink. 
  She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead. 
She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean. 
   She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.
  A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.  
   The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night. 
 “I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it?  Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him. 
 “It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.”  She smiled at him.
 “You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind. 
 The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.    
  Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one. 
 And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.
  She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.
But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it. 
   She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.
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