#but that's what you get for having parents that love to move countries every two goddamn years like besties.

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Run, Run, Run

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You have to run

TW: toxic relationship, cheating, attempts at manipulation

You'd always been a runner.

Literally and now figuratively.

You were a sprinter mainly.

Two-hundred metres was your sweet spot but you could compete in one-hundred and four-hundred metres comfortably too.

But two-hundred was what got you interested in athletics, what showed you at your best, the event that made you one of the lucky ones.

One of the ones that didn't need another job.

Brand deals and sponsorships and everything you could have ever dreamed of came flooding in.

You could dedicate your time to just running.

Running, running, running.

Feet pounding on concrete.

Running, running, running.

An Olympic gold had always been in your grasp in your head. It was something you had only dreamed about. An errant pipe dream that you'd told your parents as a kid and they'd done that dismissive kind of agreement that all parents did when their child's hopes and dreams were a once in a lifetime kind of thing.

The 'oh, that's nice, sweetie, now finish your veggies' kind of dismissal.

Running was your lifeblood.

It always had been.

It always will be.

Even as you wait at the airport with your Olympic gold weighing down your bag.

Two bronzes and a gold was a triumph for your first Olympics.

You'd made your mark.

It was meant to be the greatest moment of your life.

The commentators had joked that it looked like something was chasing you, like you you were running from them.

They were kind of right.

You ran like something was after you, getting closer and closer.

It was only when you feel to your knees, the winner of the two-hundred metres, that it caught up.

Sweet, brutal acceptance.

Alexia was cheating on you.

She was sleeping with Jenni again.

You should have known it was going to happen.

You were younger than her, almost ten years younger. Of course, she would want to go back to her ex. Her older, more worldly, more put together ex.

The one that she could relate to more. The one that she had played with for years. The one that she could build a life with.

You had hoped that could have been you.

But clearly not.

Alexia was cheating on you, had been cheating on you since who knows when.

It could have been ever since the beginning. It could have been during the World Cup or just after it. It could have been just at the Olympics.

It didn't matter when it started though.

It happened and now you had to deal with the fall out.

And you were dealing it with the only way you knew how.

By running.

Fleeing the country.

There was a coach in England that was happy to work with you and moving to Manchester truly didn't feel as daunting as it should have.

"Stop calling me," You say," Just...stop..." You're so defeated. So done with this.

You wish you had the strength to just block and delete her number but every time you tried, all you could do was stare at the profile picture.

You in Alexia's arms, her lips pressed against your cheek.

"Baby," Alexia coos, her voice sweet saccharine that goes right through you," Amor...Mi vida-"

"Alexia, don't." You could feel your conviction wavering just by the sound of her voice.

"I don't actually love her," Alexia continues," She was only because I missed you. I want you. You're going to be my wife, remember?"

"Ale...please, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

"Mi vida, you're being so silly. Come home. Let's talk."

"No...I-I don't want to."

An edge of tension strung through her voice and you close your eyes tightly.

"Where are you? I'll pick you up. We'll go to dinner and I'll show you how much I love you. What about the baby you wanted? Let's make make a baby, amor."

"Alexia-"

"No," Alexia interrupts," I'm coming to get you. Send me your loc-"

"Attention all passengers, the seven-thirty flight to Manchester, England with British Airways is now inviting our business class passengers to board."

You can hear Alexia suck in a breath. "Are you at the airport?"

You don't respond but you know she can hear movement on your end of the line as you gather up your hastily packed luggage.

"Are you at the airport?!" She asks again.

Again, you don't answer.

"Amor," Her voice goes sweet," Don't get on that flight. Come home to me. Let's talk."

"I'm sorry, Alexia," You say," I wish you the best but I just can't do this."

"Don't-Don't hang up! Don't you dare-"

You turn off your phone as you step onto the plane.

Running has always come easy.

It's not really like you're taking the coward's way out.

You're running to save yourself because Alexia will ruin you if you go back to her.

She will break you apart, wear you down with sweet promises and soft touches.

Then she'll go back to camp and cheat on you again.

You're running to save yourself the heartbreak.

[luvhughes43]

BOYFRIEND | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

based off the song boyfriend by ariana grande

summary: every summer without fail you and quinn fall back into old habits... you two aren't official but the feelings are there.

word count: 3.4k

i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck i don't wanna be too much but i don't wanna miss your touch and you don't seem to give a fuck

all of your life you had four loves. there was shitty reality television, your home state-michigan, your summers at your familys lake house, and then there was quinn hughes.

you had always loved him even if you hadn't recognized it yourself. back then, both of your parents would make little comments about how they're going to end up together one day! but when you stayed in michigan and quinn moved to vancouver everything changed.

when quinn left school to pursue hockey you assumed that your friends with benefits situation would fizzle out. but it hadn't. and so youre left wanting as you watch the brunet boy trapeze around his backyard - greeting boys he'd seen countless times over the hockey season while you were stuck at school.

when you finally do catch this eye, he waltz over with a shit-eating grin. "hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he teases, pulling you under his impressive arm. you stumble into his side with practice ease and quinn tilts his head to look down your solo cup. "the fuck is that?"

you hold the cup over your head to where you assumed his lips would be, "i dont know jack made it - 'could be anything,"

quinn reaches for the cup and takes a measured sip. "that'll kill you," he winces, spilling the cups contents on the grass and tossing the cup along with it.

you sigh, peeved. quinn did this thing where he assumes he knows what's best. "i was actually drinking that,"

"yeah, yeah, i'll get you something else," he says distractedly as someone from across the yard flags him down.

just as quinns about to leave again you grab his arm and pull him back to you. even though you're embarrassed to ask you lower your voice and whisper, "when am i going to see you again?"

quinn pauses. "like, are we gonna..."

you remain silent, not wanting to say what you truly want. it was easier to hint at your forays instead of being honest about things. "i'll catch up with you tonight, promise" he kisses the underside of your wrist before shouting playfully to someone in the distance.

i don't wanna keep you waiting but i do just what i have to do and i might not be the one for you but you ain't about to have no boo

an hour later you wander inside the boy's house to grab yourself a refill. there was still no sign of quinn - and so you decide to unwind a little bit before the night truly got underway. every year the guys would host a party to reign in the end of the season. guys from across the country would travel and spend a week in michigan celebrating with packs of zyns, cases of beer, and endless rounds of golf.

"zyn?" trevor zegras says as he holds out a small white pouch towards you. you shake your head no and trevor shoves the circular box back into his short pockets.

"i heard he's single," a girl to your left whispers loudly to a group of her friends. trevors head turns instinctively,but you pay the group of girls no attention.

"ten bucks they're talking about me," trevor leans down and whispers.

"twenty bucks they're not," you announce back and then the two of you messily shake on it. you probably shouldn't have gone to jack for a refill on his concoction but quinn was taking too long so...

"well quinns hot so if he is single, i'll try it," you're not sure what it was exactly but your face heats up regardless. beside you, trevor groans and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket.

youre pretty sure he tries to hand you a wad of crumpled up ones but you were no longer paying attention to trevor or your bets. instead, your focus shifted to a gorgeous blonde hyping herself up to go and talk to your best friend.

'cause I know we be so complicated but we be so smitten, it's crazy i can't have what I want, but neither can you

"alright... i know they're wrinkled but cash is legal tender..." trevor trails off obnoxiously and thus you grab hold of his ten dollars clenching your fist.

"i'll see you later?" you call out distractedly, solely focused on the blonde approaching quinn across the room.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody

it was wrong to use others for personal gain but you were sure there had to be an exception for making somebody jealous. plus, it wasn't like quinn was a saint either.

you vividly remember how quinn chatted up some girl in your class two years ago at a frat party. it was a shitty thing to do, considering how much you complained about that particular girls work ethic after she left you hanging on a group project.

the next morning, quinn had stopped by your apartment to apologize with a bouquet of peonies in hand. you had reluctantly forgiven him, but because the two of you weren't exactly exclusive the fight dissolved on your tongue before you could even properly fight about it.

"hey baby," you tease all your syllables - making sure the baby really rings out in tune. quinns smile doesn't falter at your emergence, instead, he grins as his attention turns from the blonde and onto you.

"y/n," he glances between you and the new girl. you'd have to work for his attention a little more than you'd like to tonight. "as i was saying..." quinn resumes his conversation with the girl slowly, trying his hardest to piss you off.

a tuft of dark black hair peeks it's way through your peripheral and your head immediately turns to find alex turcotte standing alone a few feet away. "turcs!" you call out in the same teasing tone you'd used on quinn and alexs attention is immediately focused on you.

"baby!" he yells jovially, and you could not have planned something better yourself. baby, was a nickname assigned to you after a particular summer in which you were obsessed with dirty dancing. you had pranced around the house to its soundtrack and forced anybody who was around to dance with you - all embarrassingly bad imitations of patrick swayze.

you dont turn to acknowledge quinns reaction but you imagine it as you sway your way over to alex. quinns face would be scrunched up in annoyance, and his eyes would darken just a tad to accompany his scowl. if there was one thing quinn hated more than he liked teasing you, it was you teasing him back.

"so strong!" you laugh loudly, gripping onto alex's arm. his hand brushes across your lower back and you smile brightly when he leaves it resting there.

"you really know how to work a guy, huh?" he laughs before removing his hand altogether. "what are you drinking?" he asks then, shifting tones dramatically from flirtatious to friends-since-childhood.

"i don't know jack made it," you hold the cup up to his face and he recoils with a scuff.

"you're going to be so sick tomorrow,"

you take a sip of your drink before glancing back in quinns direction. his dark eyes were still trained on you but the blonde was still at his side. flirting with alex was truly petty. both you and quinn knew nothing would ever come of it but it was still fun to get him riled up anyway.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"want to get me something else?" you ask with a soft voice and you hope it carries to where quinns standing.

alex looks at you momentarily before shaking his head quickly. "uh, yeah, yeah let's go to the kitchen..." you take the lead in your venture to the kitchen and alex slinks his arm around your waist.

you barely make it out of the living room before quinn interrupts your path. "hey man, its been awhile," his smile is strained as he reaches a hand out to alex. the two greet each other and the flashes of disappointment on quinns face is evident when alex doesnt take his arm away from your body.

"where ya two heading?" he asks.

alex hits his solo cup against yours and a slosh of molten liquid rolls over the rim of your cup and onto your new white shoes. "this one needs a new drink. jack made her another one his his "concoctions,"" alex laughs easily but quinns face is entirely tense.

you stay silent.

"oh, i can take her," quinn says with a slight edge.

"it's no worries i can do it," alex assures him with a small smile. "i think jacks in the kitchen and i wanna say hello," he adds when quinn makes no move to back down.

"uh, i just saw him go outside actually," quinn states and you wonder if you should interrupt.

the two boys stare at each other tensely and alex drops his hand from your waist. "i'll see you later baby?" alex mutters lowly, and your head spins from whatever moment you just missed right there.

you nod dismissively to alex and watch in silence as he rapidly walks out of the living room. "what was that for?" you ask quinn as soon as you turn to face him. as expected, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his face show small signs of annoyance.

"you need a drink," is all quinn responds with, and you follow behind him slowly as he maneuvers his way through small crowds of people.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

your vodka cranberry was slowly spilling its contents onto quinns hardwood floor as it lay discarded.

"your floors getting all wet," you mumble against quinns lips the second the two of you pull apart. his hair was messy and his cheeks flush when he notices you staring.

"dont care," he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his own. "'been too long sine i've seen you last,"

you kiss his neck teasingly, "the wood will get ruined,"

quinn sighs and pulls away from you. he strips his shirt off and lets it fall atop your discarded solo cup. his confidence was something that had grown over the years and you were pleasantly delighted.

"thank you," you whisper to him as he slides his arms back against you. you wait for him to say something - mention what happened downstairs but quinn remains silent.

instead, he leads you backwards to his bed with well practiced ease. the games you two play were fun when they ended up like this, but at the same time you felt a twinge for something more.

even though you ain't mine, i promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love 'cause baby, when push comes to shove damn baby, i'm a train wreck, too (too) i lose my mind when it comes to you i take time with the ones I choose and I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah

the sun streams through quinns open curtains, blinding him momentarily as his eyes adjust to the morning light. when everything comes into focus the first thing he notices is your figure curled up on the other side of his bed like a cat. quinn stretches and despite the brief disturbance your eyes stay firmly closed.

downstairs the house was a mess. empty bottles and cups littered the wood floors and empty food wrappers crinkle uncomfortably under quinns tired feet.

"morning," jack says as soon as his older brother steps into the dimly lit kitchen. jacks sandy hair is tousled and if his undereye bags were any indication of how he was feeling... it was clear that he was unwell.

"you look like shit," quinn chuckles as he tosses jack a bottle of aspirin.

"gee, thanks." jack rolls his eyes but pops a pill nonetheless.

quinn fixes himself some toast and the two brothers sit in comfortable silence.

"where's yn," jack asks, nursing a yellow gatorade.

"sleeping,"

jack hums in acknowledgement. he stares inquisitively at his brother - silently hinting at what's going on between the blurred lines of quinns and yns relationship, but quinn ignores him.

i know we be so complicated lovin' you sometime drive me crazy 'cause i can't have what I want and neither can you

late the next afternoon after tirelessly scrubbing down the floors and tossing out empty cans, the group of hockey players and friends make their way onto the lake.

as always, quinn drives and docks the boat in the middle of the lake so the group could swim and yn could suntan on the hard, white seats of the boat.

quinn wasnt an idiot. he knew that his best friend was hot. the stolen glances and not-so-subtle double takes weren't lost on him as his friends ogled her. she was undeniably gorgeous and someday their relationship wouldn't be enough anymore. she would eventually want more, and quinn wasn't sure he'd be able to give her a relationship she deserved from two thousand miles away.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and i don't want you to see nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, bradytkachuk, joshnorris10, 3 333 others

yourusername daydreamin' 🧸

"what's the deal with yn and quinn anyway? have they always been so... intense?" alexander holtz asks between shooting pool.

jack sighs, "yeah theyre always like that. i wish they'd just get over whatever they've got going on and get together already. its honestly painful to watch," jack jokes tensely.

alex tuts, "i wish she were available"

another guy hums, "she's a total smoke show,"

"ew, shes like our sister," luke pipes up.

"your sister maybe," someone laughs. "she ain't mine,"

quinn silently turns away from the rec room to find you.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"hey," you smile sweetly at quinns presence. he stares at you simply before sitting down on the decksteps next to you. he frowns when you set your book down beside you and you press your knee to his in an attempt to calm him. "what's wrong?"

quinn sighs deeply. "i just - i dont know. what are we doing?"

"what do you mean?" you ask even though you know where this conversation is heading.

quinn gestures between the two of you, "we've... things are different now,"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, genuinely taken off guard. "if this is about the party...?"

"we'd be an awful couple," quinn cuts in.

"who called us a couple?,"

"look, you're going to want more eventually and-"

you scoff. "are you going to actually talk to me? because i'm fine with out arrangement," you lie.

quinn stares at you with an unreadable expression. "look, it's not going to work"

"did the guys say something to you?" you bite. you reach your hand out to quinn but he pushes it away.

"no. i just don't think us being... involved... is a good idea anymore,"

"'involved'" you say sarcastically. you've been hooking up for three years now.

quinn stands up suddenly, "yeah. it's over - i'm over it,"

"okay?" youre defiant. "don't come begging to me when you see me with another guy - or when you need a quick lay. god, youre such an asshole!"

i wanna kiss you (yeah), don't wanna miss you (yeah) but i can't be with you 'cause i got issues yeah, on the surface, seem like it's easy careful with words, but it's still hard to read me

quinn didn't know why he shut everything down. he didn't want to - not really anyway. it was all so stupid and he shouldn't have reacted at all.

Stress high when the trust low (mmm) Bad vibes, where'd the fun go? (Oh) Try to open up and love more (love more) Try to open up and love more

the two friends move around each other awkwardly and the tension in the house was palpable. you start to skip out on summer activities, and quinn no longer seems to enjoy driving out into the lake when you were no longer sitting by his side. everything felt wrong.

If you were my boyfriend If you were my girlfriend I probably wouldn't see nobody else But I can't guarantee that by myself

"you know what, i'm glad we decided to all us quits. you were totally right! we wouldnt have made a good couple - you probably wouldnt have stopped seeing other people," your tone is scorching as you finally catch quinn alone.

"yeah well considering your track record you'd probably have gotten with somebody else before i even boarded my flight back to van," quinns quick to defend himself - leaving you reeling.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you seethe, letting all your emotions wash over you at once.

"alex, that guy from u of m, the fucking football player!" quinn stresses the names of the last two, knowing those were the guys you hooked up while you were both at school.

you throw your arms up in the air, "you are such a hypocrite! do you know that? like seriously. lets not go tit for tat here quinn because trust i'll win every time,"

"everything always a game with you,"

you stare at him blankly. "what are we doing then? you told me the jealously was fun, you were the one who led me to your bed last week! you didn't want to get into a relationship in a first place!"

"so did you! don't spin this back on me!"

"i never said that!" you yell, "and i never got with alex,"

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, I ain't your girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else (nobody) And I don't want you to see nobody

"you might as well be," quinn tries to bait you but you dont respond.

tears well up in your eyes, "you said you didn't see us being in an actual relationship"

at the sight of your tears quinn starts to backtrack. "im sorry-"

"no, i started all this," you say, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. "i'm sorry for getting mad at you - i'm done,"

"what do you mean youre done?" quinn responds, following behind you as you walk back into the lake house. as soon as the sliding door slams shut heads turn towards the two of you.

"you said you were done and i agree," you say simply, tears threatening to spill over as you catch sight of luke staring at you in confusion.

without another word you storm up the stairs and begin packing your suitcase.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you know you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah, mmm) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody (oh yeah)

your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you drive the fifteen minute trip to your parents house. it was over, finally over between the two of you.

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else And I don't want you to see nobody

a week went by, and everybody presses quinn on why you left.

"i don't know guys, stop asking me about it," his answer stays the same, although his undereyes get considerably darker as the days go by.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

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liked by _alexturcotte, jackhughes, yourfriend, and 1 403 others

yourusername baby loves 🎧

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yourfriend baby loves im tryna talk to youuuuu

yourusername theres a boy ! and i dont quite know... what to dooo

_alexturcotte stunner ⚡️

user01 did u and quinn have a fight or something ? why did u guys unfollow each other lololll

user05 literal princess !!!

user11 quinn unfollowed and alex commenting... 👀

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_quinnhughes summa with the brothers 🤟

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trevorzegras #Aesthetic

user08 no mention of yn... were cooked

user15 first summer photo numb in yearrrssss where yn didnt make a feature... 🫣👀

────୨ৎ──── ended insanely abruptly but i wanted to post something for u guys today😭

────୨ৎ────

────୨ৎ────

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 6

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“How long have you known him?” Bucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every reaction.

“Five years,” you answered, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want him to pick up on any hint of tension.

Bucky frowned, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Ian seemed like a typical journalist, but something else about him gnawed at Bucky's instincts.

He rarely interacted with foreign reporters, so why did Ian’s presence feel… off? He was sure he'd figure out why this feeling wouldn't leave him.

Before either of you could say more, Greg appeared, clipboard in hand, and gave you both a pointed look. “Alright, you two, time to get ready. The event’s about to start. Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly.”

You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir. You’d been on stages before, but not like this. Not with Bucky, not under the gaze of an entire country.

Bucky noticed your hesitation and moved closer, placing a firm hand on your lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

You looked up at him, trying to read his eyes. Was he just saying that for the cameras? Or was there something deeper there? It was getting harder to tell. You nodded anyway, more for yourself than for him, and straightened up. You had to play your part, just as you always did.

At the Convention

The large venue buzzed with excitement, lights shining down on the stage like spotlights in an arena. When Steve Rogers walked up to the podium, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He was the golden candidate—charismatic, confident, the embodiment of what the people wanted.

The room buzzed with anticipation as Steve Rogers approached the podium, every eye in the venue locked onto him. He stood tall, his presence commanding, radiating the quiet strength he was known for. After a brief moment, he began speaking, his voice steady but filled with passion.

"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans," Steve’s voice echoed with gravitas, "Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era. We face challenges that require not just strong leadership, but leadership rooted in integrity, honor, and the unyielding belief in the power of the people."

The crowd quieted further, hanging on his every word.

"For too long, we’ve watched division grow. But I believe in the strength of unity, the strength of standing together—one nation, bound by a shared responsibility to protect our freedom, our families, and our future. And I pledge to lead with the same unwavering commitment that I’ve given to this country my entire life."

He took a brief pause, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, his tone growing more impassioned.

"I am not just here as a candidate, but as a father, a husband, and a son," he said, gesturing toward his wife, Peggy, and their children standing nearby, his parents behind them. "I want a better world for my family—just as I want a better world for yours. A world where opportunity isn’t reserved for the few but shared by the many. A world where every child grows up in safety, with access to education, health, and the opportunity to pursue their dreams."

The applause began to rise, but Steve held his hand up gently, signaling for quiet once more.

"This is not just my campaign. This is our campaign. Together, we will fight for a future that respects the dignity of every individual. We will build an America where justice is not selective but a right for all. Where leadership is about service—not power."

His voice crescendoed, igniting the room.

"Because I believe in us. I believe in the promise of America, and I believe in the strength of the American people. Together, we will rise to meet the challenges of today, and together, we will create a brighter, fairer, and stronger tomorrow."

The room erupted into thunderous applause as Steve’s words settled over the crowd. He stepped back, waving, as Peggy and their children joined him at the front of the stage, a living testament to the family values he championed.

With that, Steve Rogers sealed the moment—an electrifying speech that echoed far beyond the walls of the convention hall.

The crowd erupted into applause as Steve stepped aside, making way for Bucky.

Now it was his turn.

You watched as Bucky walked to the podium with the practiced ease of a man who was born for this. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, the overhead lights catching the sharp angles of his face. As soon as he began speaking, the room hushed again.

“I want to thank everyone for being here today,” Bucky started, his voice strong, yet warm. “Serving alongside Steve has been the honor of my life, and I am proud to stand here as the candidate for Vice President. My family—my parents Julius and Caroline, my siblings Shawn and Hazel, my nephew Nate, and my brother-in-law Tim—are with me today.” He motioned to the side, where they all stood. Caroline’s expression was as rigid as ever, while Julius offered a rare smile.

Then Bucky’s eyes found you.

“And of course, my wife. She’s been my rock. She’s stood by me through the hardest times, and I can’t imagine being here without her.” His voice softened, but the sincerity in his words cut through the noise in your head.

You smiled on cue, the kind of smile you’d perfected over years of practice. But inside, everything felt muddled. Bucky spoke as though you were his whole world, but you knew the truth. This was a performance. A calculated move to protect his image.

The applause was thunderous, but it sounded far away as you fought the emotions swirling inside you. Bucky looked the part—strong, dependable, built for this kind of role. He was doing everything right.

But you? You were pretending. The smile you wore for the cameras wasn’t for him; it was for the part of you that wanted to see Caroline suffer, to see her envy every look Bucky gave you on that stage. But underneath the spite, you felt something deeper, something far more complicated.

'Can I really keep doing this?' The question lodged itself in your mind as the applause rang out again.

You watched Bucky continue his speech, looking every bit the man of the moment. He thrived in this atmosphere, while you felt like you were drowning in a sea of lies. Every glance from the audience, every flash from the cameras, reminded you that none of this was real.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause again. Bucky turned to you, offering his hand. The warmth of his palm against yours was meant to be reassuring, but it only deepened your confusion.

As you both exited the stage, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He leaned down, voice low in your ear. “You did great,” he whispered. His words were laced with a strange tenderness that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, but deep down, the weight of this act was crushing you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the convention wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, you and Bucky maneuvered Tim’s wheelchair carefully. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in the air, but you could sense the underlying tension between Bucky and Ian as Ian approached you and Tim.

Ian greeted you with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m working on a piece about the election from the perspective of the candidates’ families. What’s it like for you and your family during all this?”

Bucky, standing beside you, made a subtle move to place himself between you and Ian, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. “I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Bucky began, but Tim cut him off.

“Of course! I’ve never been interviewed before. It’ll be good to share my side,” Tim said eagerly, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Bucky looked at Tim, then at you, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. He sighed and stepped aside, unable to argue with Tim’s excitement or your reluctance to refuse a friend’s request.

Ian turned to you, his expression curious. “You never mentioned your brother before. It’s clear you two have a strong bond.”

“She’s a private person,” Tim interjected with a hint of pride.

Ian raised an eyebrow, glancing back at you. “You really seem to know her well.”

“We may not always show it, but we’re very close. She’s been like a second mother to me, especially after I lost my leg,” Tim said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the unexpected praise from your brother. It was rare to hear him speak so openly about his feelings.

Ian smiled as he jotted down notes. “This story is going to resonate with a lot of people.”

After a while, Tim excused himself, leaving you and Ian alone. Ian’s demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more serious.

“Thanks for giving him the chance to speak,” you said with a slight edge. “You know, it feels like you just handed him a chance to embarrass me.”

Ian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Isn’t that what siblings do? Cherish these moments of difference before it’s too late.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean,-?”

Before you could ask, Ian pulled you aside, his face set with determination. “I heard there’s a divorce in your marriage.”

You stiffened, your eyes widening in surprise. “How did you find out?”

Ian’s smirk was almost smug. “Don’t underestimate my skills. You vanished, then reappeared, acting like everything’s perfect. I pieced it together from the campaign.”

He leaned closer, his frustration evident. “Not once did you mention him. And now, suddenly, you’re playing the loving wife. It’s irritating.”

You crossed your arms, feeling a wave of anger and discomfort. “Are you planning to use this information?”

Ian’s expression softened, though his eyes were intense. “I don’t know yet. But a few people already know.”

You flinched at his words, a shiver running down your spine.

Ian’s voice dropped to a reassuring whisper. “Don’t worry. They’ve only heard rumors. No one has solid evidence. I could protect you. Because you deserve someone better.”

You gulped, unable to speak. Ian’s concern seemed genuine, but you couldn’t shake off the pain from your marriage with Bucky. Your emotions were still tangled, and you didn’t want to get involved with Ian’s feelings, especially now.

You glanced up and saw Bucky watching you from across the room. His eyes were locked on you, his gaze sharp and intense. It felt like he was assessing every movement, every word. The tension in his stare made your heart race, and you could almost feel his frustration and jealousy from afar.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the car sped through the night, the backseat felt increasingly cramped, the air thick with unspoken tension. You stared out the window, trying to avoid Bucky’s piercing gaze. The city lights flickered past, a blur of neon and shadows, as you stewed over the conversation with Ian and the unresolved questions it left.

Bucky's silence was more oppressive than any words. His jaw was set tight, and the muscles in his neck were rigid. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, laced with an edge of command. “Don’t meet Ian anymore.”

You continued to look out the window, your reflection a ghostly image against the darkened glass. “He knew about the divorce,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his grip on the seat tightening. He was silent for a moment, the weight of your revelation settling in. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Well, that means I’m on the right track. Every politician has skeletons in their closet.”

You turned your head sharply to face him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not afraid if the rumor leaks out?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. But I’m more worried about how it’ll affect you.” He paused “But look at the bright side. It narrows down the list of people who knew about our marriage.”

You turned to him, eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re playing with fire, Bucky.”

He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. His expression softened into a smirk, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “I’ll win this for you. I still remember that moment when you wished me to win, just to spite my mother. I need that brave Y/N.”

You could feel the heat from his body, his breath mingling with yours as he drew nearer. The car’s dim lighting accentuated the intensity in his eyes, a smoldering gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Don’t make this about me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bucky’s smirk deepened, and he moved even closer, his face inches from yours. “But babe, this is all for you,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.

His proximity was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You swallowed hard, the line between anger and something else entirely blurring as his lips almost brushed against yours.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were caught between the anger at his manipulation and the undeniable pull of the unresolved feelings you still harbored for him. The confined space of the car seemed to shrink around you, the air charged with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.

Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his smirk fading into an expression of intense focus. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that made your skin tingle. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice carrying an almost desperate edge.

You hated him for the pain he’d caused, but his touch betrayed your emotions, making it hard to stay firm. And he knew it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.only the charged, almost unbearable closeness between you.

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[takamiwife]

keigo as a daddy 🐣

not that kind of daddy, everyone get ur minds out of the gutters (same)

ANYWAYYY

- keigo had always thought about having kids of course, but reality always hit him quick. he was too busy, and his life was far too dangerous for a partner, let alone a child

- then he met you

- so one became two, and he was happy. truly happy for the first time since he could remember. but guilt and fear wracked him everyday. what if someone came after you? what if, god forbid, he died while on the job, leaving you alone? he couldn’t bear the thought. he dreamed of retiring, taking you, all his money, and buying a big, beautiful house out in the country where you’d grow old together with lots of kids and grandbabies.

- but it was just a fleeting thought. reality always hit. it wouldn’t be fair to anyone for him to have kids

- and then the war came

- and everything changed

- for a while, it seemed like things had changed for the worse

- but things got stable

- things got better

- heroes weren’t needed as much

- the day keigo took his position of president of the hero commission, he proposed to you

- he did it in front of nearly all of japan on live tv. not for his ego, not to get attention or fame, but because he wanted everyone to know how much he adored you

- his life was changing, and he wanted you to be in the rest of the chapters of it

- the two of you quickly settled in to married life. it was just as romantic and passionate as it had been when the two of you were dating; and better yet, you got to spend more time together with keigos new job

- of course he had you quit your job as soon as you got married, and you didn’t mind. you spent your days filled with philanthropy and finding ways to fulfill yourself and your community

- after being two for so long, imagine your surprise when one little stick told you that you’d be becoming three

- things were finally normal, finally stable, especially for keigo. you knew he’d be thrilled. he had always talked about having little ones, but the two of you figured it’d be a “if it happens, it happens” kind of deal

- and you were right, he was thrilled

- the man nearly burst into tears when he opened the small box at the dinner table containing an ultrasound and a onesie

- immediately he began looking at homes outside of the city. “this apartment isn’t big enough for a baby” (it was, but you weren’t going to tell him that)

- the man pampered you throughout your whole pregnancy. he was at every doctors appointment, got your every craving no matter the time of day or night, and made sure you never lifted a finger, especially during your move (much to your chagrin)

- though he hired movers and decorators, he designed and built everything in the nursery

- when he found out you were having a girl, he was even happier. tell me that man isn’t meant to be a girl dad, like cmon

- yea he cried when the baby was born. multiple times. she looks just like you, after all!

- not once did he make you get up to check on the baby at night. he would always do it. he adored her from the moment he laid eyes on her. he was going to be different than his parents. he was going to be better.

- one night, at nearly 2 am, you woke up, and when you went down the hallway, you saw him sitting beside the crib, gently stroking the little hair atop her head. you never told him you saw it

- keigo shows his two favorite girls in the world off wherever he goes. pictures of you and the baby are all over his office, and it’s a rarity to see him in public without you and the baby by his side

- as the baby grows, he only continues to spoil her, giving her all the love and affection he never received. he wasn’t certain of everything, but he knew that she would never question where her next meal was coming from, or ever doubt if she was loved

- her toys would be scattered across his office, he loves bringing her to work

- you two are double trouble for keigo. he can barely say no to you, let alone her. that man’s salary gets put to use, trust me

- bum ass dad? never heard of it. keigo is there for every possible event, from doctors appointments to recitals. he’s there.

- and don’t think he’s forgotten about you. that man lets you know how much he utterly adores you everyday. not just because you made him a father. no, because before all of that, you made him feel loved, and he could never repay you for what you’ve done for him

[starkeygirlposts]

Boyfriend turned Step-Bro Rafe Cameron x Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

This is a snippet of a fic I'm going to see if I want to continue writing. Please let me know if you'd like it to be continued.

I'm not diving too deep on details or character traits in this, as it's just a blurb/idea for a full fic.

Trigger warnings: stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy

----

The Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at eighteen.

The complete opposite, really.

Your parents separated when you were in your sophomore year of high school, your dad moving across the country to California when he met his mistress on a business trip while you and your mom kept a tidy home. The affair nearly killed your mom, and she learned to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.

Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind Y/N, does that make me such a bad mom?" Like you being upset with your mother being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.

But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table that you all had gathered for, Ward held your moms hand and told you all that they were getting married.

That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you soon would not recognize. Rafe's hand slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.

You looked over at Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else, and his eyes were higher than yours, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the earth. Of course he was. You flinched when Rafe's chair scraped like nails on the tile flooring, as he darted from the table outside to his truck, leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you'd wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision made for you.

You didn't even need to ask.

"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.

You looked to your mom as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you. You'd met Rafe first. Three years ago. You'd been the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?

From that day, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. A hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and painfully. He'd drink himself to sleep every Friday and Saturday night, breathe cocaine on the other nights, and wave you off when you tried to ask him to slow down.

"Y/N, you want me to stop? To make you happy? What do you do anymore that makes me happy?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a shimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.

He'd shrug away from you, his hand brushing you off and leave you watching his back as he'd resume slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But his coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected.

So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner on Thursday night nearly one year after your world truly blew apart, hoping you'd get to him before the white powder did, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he'd already gotten his fix. But your small hand came up to his chest as he approached you, seated cross legged on your pink floral bed spread, clutching the stick in your other hand. You looked up at him and when you locked eyes, he understood, because he took your hand from his chest and squeezed it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.

"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl."

His breath was hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You couldn't stop the tears from falling from your eyes, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your jaw tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he loved you again.

How badly you missed him, too.

"Rafe, please..."

Your hand falls and his breaks from your jaw, and you take this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes break away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with tears streaming down your face as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.

He doesn't do what you expect him to do, though. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop.

"This...this is a -- you're..." His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. "A baby?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.

"My baby?" He asks again, and you nearly scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your thoughts?

"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant with your baby." You tell him, standing and he's still shaking his head, eyes bunching up as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.

You watch his chest rise and fall, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you

"I'm going to take care of it. They're not keeping me from my kid."

----

AH, what do you think? My ask box is open for feedback. Please feel free to use it to ask for what you'd like to see from this fic!

[nadvs]

　　🐚　⊹　❀　︵　∘　 good hurt ⟢

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary rafe is rough with you for the first time.

this is a blurb in the home before dark universe, inspired by this ask!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It’s been almost two months since the night in Rafe’s bedroom. The words and touches that you shared then threaded you together in a way that neither of you thought was possible, easing you into a blissful haze.

You’ve spent nearly every long summer day together. The season is nearing its end, the sunsets arriving earlier and the nights growing colder.

Rafe’s hands are on your hips as you sit by the busy country club pool together on a warm afternoon, settled on the same lounger. He’s sitting behind you, his bare chest brushing your back with every inhale he takes, his fingertips ghosting over your skin.

With how attached you and your boyfriend have become, your friend groups have slowly melded together. He’s still the Rafe everyone else knows with them, rough around the edges and not at all friendly, but with you and only you, he’s protective and passionate and warm. He even gets needy sometimes. You don’t see it as a bad thing.

It feels so natural, laughing with your friends, sipping on a drink, Rafe touching you, as if it’s always been like this.

You finish off your drink and stand to place your empty cup on the table. When you bend over, you give Rafe a view of your ass, your bathing suit scantly digging into your flesh.

His groin tightens at the sight. Seeing you like this even for just a second turns him on. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve tangled in each other’s sheets, but you stoke the fire in him even more every day you’re together.

His mind drifts to last night in your bedroom. Your parents have been away again, giving you an opportunity to do whatever you want in an empty house with no risk of being caught.

You were in your bed, your lips wrapped around him, your eyes locked on his as he sat up and watched you. He kept his hands on your head, fingers laced in your hair as you bobbed up and down.

He wanted to tug at your hair, to turn you over, to slap your ass and slam into you so hard that both of you get sore. But he holds back every time he wants to get rough with you. He loves you. He respects you. He can’t hurt you.

Rafe knows he shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. He’s getting hard in public. You settle in front of him again.

He leans forward just a bit, his breath warm on your bare shoulder.

“Don’t get up for a while,” he mumbles loud enough only for you to hear.

You turn your head to meet his eyes, noticing the lust in his gaze.

“Why?” you whisper.

“I’m…” Rafe purses his lips, flustered, and looks down to motion to where he’s throbbing for you.

“You’re what?” you tease.

A small smirk grows on Rafe’s face. He knows you’re messing with him. That you want him to say it.

“I’m hard,” he relents. You smile and bite your lip, eyes fluttering down to see the bulge in his swim shorts. Nobody’s paying attention to either of you, but you shift a little closer to hide him just in case.

You love this, how often you drift into your own personal world beneath the overlapping conversations around you.

“How come?” you ask. Rafe scoffs amusedly, his tongue poking under his cheek.

“You bent over,” he murmurs.

You move even closer to him, already excitedly anticipating him sleeping over tonight.

“You like when I bend over?” you purr.

“Don’t,” he breathes with a half-chuckle, his cock twitching in his shorts. “Not right now.”

You shrug with a small smile, turning around again, falling into another conversation to give him time to cool down.

You spend another half hour by the pool before you head to your house on the back of his bike. A few weeks ago, he bought you your own helmet after you fussed over how he always lent you his and didn’t have anything protecting him.

As you come up your street, the motorcycle roaring loudly, you press your hands against his chest tighter and drag them down his torso, stopping right above his groin.

Rafe revels in the feeling of your eager hands on him. Your love is like medicine to him, numbing everything that hurts, making a warm, exciting desire float through him. In a matter of seconds, he’s hard again.

Once he parks in front of your house, he waits for you to dismount before he does like always, his skin tingling from where you touched him.

“Been teasing me all damn day,” he mutters once he pulls his helmet off. You smirk at him, handing him your helmet to put away.

“Have I?” you ask with a sweet giggle. Impatient blue eyes glare at you, but he can’t stifle his smile. “Maybe a shower will make you feel better.”

When you reach your bedroom, you toss your bag onto the floor and start to strip away your clothes, eager to get the smell of chlorine off of your skin.

You can feel the atmosphere in the room thickening as Rafe keeps his eyes on you the entire time he undresses. At this point, you’re completely comfortable with each other in every way, knowing each other’s bodies well.

You turn to head to the shower, your bare body on display for him, but he follows close behind, big hands gripping your hips, his length pressing up against your ass.

“I can’t wait,” Rafe murmurs.

You shudder as his hot mouth settles at the side of your neck, kissing you. It’s intoxicating, the way he thirsts for you so deeply and hurriedly, unable to wait the few seconds to make it to the shower.

His fingers start to dig into hips, but then you feel him exhale against you, letting go. He’s been doing this lately. He moves quickly, roughly, then stops himself.

You turn, draping your hands over his shoulders, looking up at him as you stand together naked, anticipating what’ll happen next.

“Why do you do that?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“What?”

“Hold back,” you say with a breathy laugh. “It feels like you want to do something, then you stop.”

Rafe should have known you’d notice. You’ve always been so observant with him. It’s a type of love he’s never felt before.

“I don’t… want to hurt you,” he says gruffly.

You lean forward, leaving a lazy kiss on his lips.

“You can hurt me a little,” you whisper with a smile. “What do you want to do, hmm? Tell me.”

“I…” Rafe’s eyes drift over your face in awe.

“Or do you want to show me?” you say. Your hands cup his, leading them on your hips again. He pulls you closer, his lips parted.

“You sure?” he rasps. He knows you’d do anything for him. He doesn’t want it to be at the expense of your comfort.

“I’m sure,” you say with a nod.

“Tell me to stop if I need to,” he says, then captures your lips in another kiss. His fingers drag up the curves of your body and he cradles your head as he kisses you, his tongue running over yours.

Your kisses grow deeper and Rafe gives into the impulse to tug at the roots of your hair. He pulls back an inch, forehead against yours, gauging your reaction.

“Pull harder,” you whisper.

He huffs with a smirk, aching for you at this point, and he kisses you again, pulling at your roots with enough force to tilt your chin up higher.

You step forward to close what little distance remains, pressing your bare body against his.

“Fuck,” he groans against your mouth. He pauses, breathing heavily to look down at you, still tugging a fistful of your hair.

“Don’t hold back,” you say. Rafe takes you in, the way your lips shine from the moisture of your kisses, the way your eyelids are half-dropped in bliss, the way your body is flush against his erection.

“I want to throw you around,” he says breathlessly. “I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”

His words make your entire body tingle with arousal. You knew he was passionate, that he had a aggressive side, but you never knew this was what he was holding in. It’s thrilling that he wants to dominate you, to ruin you in the best way.

“Do it,” you say, staring straight into his eyes. “As hard as you can. I want it.”

Rafe almost groans just from your words. He pulls at your hair tighter, leading you to your bed, letting go to thrust you onto your bed.

You’re on your back as he leans down to hover over you, smelling like sunblock and Rafe as he nuzzles his face into your neck, nipping at your earlobe.

You stroke his hair as he settles between your legs, his tip nudging against you. You writhe under him, impatient for him.

Your muscles loosen when he lowers his hand and slowly traces up and down your folds. His finger sinks into you slowly to prepare you, making you tremble, your eyes fluttering shut.

He adds another finger, curling into you, shuddering as he feels how hot and wet and tight you are, craving to be buried inside you.

Rafe’s lips land on yours again, both of you breathing heavy. He traps your bottom lip in his teeth, pulling back, earning a moan from you.

His temple is against yours, feeling how wet you are, listening to the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“As hard as I can?” he echoes your words in a deep murmur.

“Please,” you say.

He takes his hand away from between your legs and reaches to grab your ass, flipping you onto your front with a rough push.

“On your knees,” he orders. You obey, knees sinking into the bed, your cheek against the sheets. He grips the back of your neck with one hand, fingers slick from you, while the other runs over the curve of your ass.

He’s on his knees behind you, swollen and throbbing, unsure if he can really do this, if you can really take it.

But when you wriggle beneath his touch, arching your back in eagerness, he clenches his jaw and brings his palm down with a hard smack. You gasp and laugh in pure elation, your skin stinging.

“You like that?” he rasps, turned on but worried he’s going too far.

“Mhm,” you purr. “Do it again.”

Your words dismiss all the concerns occupying his mind. He spanks you again, revelling in the way your flesh quivers with the contact.

Rafe leans to kiss where he hit you and you smile to yourself. Even when he’s being rough, he’s reminding you he loves you.

He said he couldn’t wait before, but now, if he spares one more second, he might go crazy. He guides his cock into you and you let out a sweet, breathy moan.

He bottoms out with a groan, his hands on your hips again. He takes the incredible sight in, the way your ass is up in the air for him, your hands splayed on your bed.

Rafe pulls back then slams harder this time, making you jolt with the force.

“You want it like that, yeah?” he murmurs.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. He shoves himself into you again, even harder this time, and you clench around him so tightly that he’s already seeing stars.

He picks up his pace, starting to pound into you harder than he ever has, rocking you back and forth with his hands tight on your hips. The bed starts to squeak as he rolls his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

Rafe looks down, face contorted in pleasure, watching your pussy swallow him. Your honeyed moans tell him you’re loving this just as much as he is.

The pressure you feel from him filling you like this is perfect. He tugs at your hair again with both hands this time, pulling your head back. You swallow hard as your neck curves, your mouth agape, your eyes rolling back.

“You’re taking it so fucking good,” he praises, panting. You clutch onto the bedsheets, feeling them bunch beneath your fingers. “You’re mine.”

He always says that during your slow, gentle moments, but hearing it now, his voice hoarse and his movements rough and his breaths sharp, is on a new, raw level you haven’t been on together.

He possesses you completely. And by the way he’s starting to whimper, you know you own him, too.

Rafe lets go of your hair, leaving you to drop and rest your cheek on the bed again. He leans to grip your breasts and squeezes hard, his weight on your hips, as he fucks you with raging, manic thrusts.

His fingers dig into your flesh. His breaths are hot against your back. Your thighs are starting to ache from perching up like this, but it’s a good hurt.

His skin slaps against yours with every thrust and when he shifts to put his fingers on your clit, drawing tight circles, the coil in your stomach starts to twist slowly, promising an orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper, breathy. “Yes.”

Rafe bites his lower lip in ecstasy, shifting to grip your hip as he continues to play with you. Fireworks explode inside of you when he pushes you into your climax, tightening around him.

“There you go,” he whispers, talking you through it. “Let me hear how good it feels.”

Your moans spill out of you with no inhibition as you arch your back, trembling through the release you’ve been waiting for.

Both his hands are on your hips, controlling the fervid pace, pulling you against him as he pounds into you. You feel him go even harder and when his hot cum pools into you, his groan is deep, interrupted by a string of strained fuck’s.

He stays inside you for a moment before pulling out, leaving you to collapse to your side, almost breathless.

Rafe drops onto his hands, chest heaving. He looks down at you as you lie on your side, a lazy, fucked out smile on your face.

“Definitely need a bath now,” he mumbles after a moment. You breathe a chuckle and nod, but you don’t have the strength to get up. You close your eyes as his weight shifts off the bed. Seconds later, you hear the faucet in your ensuite running.

When Rafe’s ready for you, he pulls you off the bed with gentle, loving hands, leading you to the hot bath he drew for you.

He sinks into the water, guiding you to sit with your back to his chest. When you settle in the tub together, he kisses the back of your hand.

“You feeling okay?” he says, his deep voice echoing in the bathroom.

“More than okay,” you answer with a happy sigh. Your body is still twitching.

“You did so good,” Rafe praises. He kisses your cheek, hand settling between your legs under the water. “I didn’t go too hard?”

“No,” you breathe. “We should do that more.”

You spread your legs, your cunt sore in the best way, letting him massage you.

“You know how much I love you?” he whispers. “You know how fucking perfect you are?”

You tilt your head back, resting against Rafe’s shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him treasuring you, running his fingers over you again and again.

“My beautiful girl,” he rasps. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper, wrapped up in the heat of the water, in the firmness of his body, in the solace of his love and care.

[patscorner]

kate fic idea ! okay so you and kate have been best friends since you can remember, but something happens around third grade were you had to move away. a few years later (towards college or so) you guys reconnect (bc yall decided to apply to the same college) then it ends up on them going on a date and kissing 🙏🏽

will do! 🫡

ALL OF THE ABOVE

Summary: You and Kate grew up together, but when you move across the country, you lose contact with her forever. Or so you think.

wc: 2,339 (she's a long one, buckle up folks)

Contains: mentions of alcohol, nothing...?

______________________________

For as long as you can remember, you have always had a best friend. Whether it was your first imaginary friend, your dog, or your brother. One of the most memorable of them all, though, was a short, dirty blonde girl in your third grade.

Kate was assigned as your table partner in art. Even as an eight-year-old, you knew she was the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. You both instantly clicked, bonding over favorite colors and working on your math problems together.

You both would play outside in recess together, swinging on the swings, or you’d play in the dirt while Kate played with a basketball. You guys were instantly each other’s ride or die, going to one another’s houses for sleepovers almost every weekend. Even throughout the seventh grade girl drama (canon event), and even after both of your friend groups crashed and burned, you two stood strong.

But sometimes things happen that you can’t control, like your parents separating in the middle of your eighth grade year. When you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your dad decided to return to his hometown and move across the country to Iowa, taking you and your brother with him.

You’ve never fought anything harder. You spent most of your time screaming at your dad and begging him to let you stay. When he kept refusing, you eventually accepted the fact that you were leaving. Leaving everything behind, your childhood home, your memories, your best friend.

At the time, the hardest thing you’d ever done was tell Kate you were leaving. You were in tears the whole time, even before you told her. She’d looked at you with worry and concern before embracing you, telling you that no matter what it was, she’d be there for you.

That’s the moment you knew you had fallen in love and that there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

After you told her, you both cried together, vowing to write everyday (this was before you guys owned phones), and promising to never forget each other.

And that’s exactly how it started out. You wrote to her everyday, filling her in on everything that was happening in your first year of high school. And she’d write back, telling you about how she made the basketball team.

But soon, she started getting busy with all the media attention on the sophomore star, and your letters every day turned into nothing at all. You kept writing to her, but you never got anything back, even after you told her you got a phone.

You figured it was because you both got busy, but you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that she didn’t write to you back. Eventually, you distracted yourself with finding your love for soccer and her, creating her future in women’s basketball.

You wouldn’t say you forgot her, because how could you? But you didn’t think about her much anymore, and she fell to the back of your mind. You’d moved on with your life, and you were certain she did, too.

Eventually, you graduated and got a full ride to the University of Iowa because of your amazing talent in soccer. Little did you know that a year later, so would Kate. Of course, hers was for basketball, but the same campus nonetheless.

You lay on your bed, watching old soccer highlights, trying to see if you could predict the plays and the fouls before they happen. You look up as you hear your dorm door open and watch as your two roommates drunkenly stumble in. One of your roommates, Sarah, fumbles with the keys before dropping them and leaning on your other roommate, Devon, doubling over in laughter. You roll your eyes and close your laptop. Guess we’re done with that for now.

“What happened to ‘not getting too drunk’?” You asked with raised eyebrows, helping Devon, who is much more drunk than Sarah, to the bed. She mumbles incoherent words, so you look up at Sarah to translate as you take Devon’s shoes off.

Sarah shrugged. “The football team showed up. They’re the life of the party.” She slurs the last bit and then covers her mouth before rushing to the bathroom.

You shake your head as you turn back to Devon, who’s staring down at you. “You’re hot as fuck.” she mumbles.

“You’re drunk, and you have a girlfriend.” You say. You’re far too familiar with Devon when she’s intoxicated. All she does is flirt with people, whether her girlfriend is in the room or not. Luckily, most people on the Iowa campus know her and who her girlfriend is, and they know to stay away, not engaging or encouraging any of her behavior.

“Cait is so annoying.” Devon whines. “She didn’t wanna come to the party with me.” she throws her head back on the pillows, flinging her legs on the bed when you finish taking her shoes off.

“Or.” You grab her a water bottle from the fridge before opening it and making your way back to her. “She has a game tomorrow and doesn’t wanna play hungover.”

You’d been to a couple of Caitlin’s games, and it’s even more amazing to watch her play in person (she’s also fine as hell, but you’d rather keep your life, so this one stays in your head). And with your brother being on the college baseball team, he’d go to many sports events, whether it be basketball, football, women’s basketball, or baseball itself.

Devon sighs before taking the water from you, practically drinking all of it before handing the mostly empty bottle back to you. You put a blanket over her before making your way to check on Sarah.

Opening the door, you notice that she’s taking her makeup off and her hair down. “Oh, shit, you’re all good then?” you say, surprised to see her standing. She turns to you and nods. “Unlike Ms girl in there, I can hold my liquor.” You laugh and turn to leave.

“Oh, you comin’ to the game tomorrow?” Sarah asked, turning to look at you. You sigh deeply before shaking your head. “Nah, I gotta study.”

“Bitch, you’ve studied for like three days, you’re gonna burn yourself out. You’re allowed a break.” Sarah says in a light-hearted manner but you can tell she wasn’t all the way kidding. She wasn’t all the way wrong either. You’d been studying relentlessly for a test in your business class, and gave yourself little room for a break.

“Come on, a small break isn’t gonna kill you.” Sarah persisted. You sigh defeatedly. “Fine.”

She grins widely, already planning outfits to put you in. You shake your head at her antics, when in reality, it was one of your favorite things about her.

Guess you're going to a game tomorrow.

Big mistake. You completely forgot that it was the first home game of the preseason, so the stadium was packed. The people looked like little bees, swarming around in their yellow and black jerseys.

But you and your roommates made sure to take shots before you left the apartment, so the alcohol eased your nerves a little. Since your brother was a baseball player and your roommates girlfriend was Caitlin fucking Clark, you guys had scored courtside seats, right behind the coaching staff.

You shuffle into the aisle, pulling your short black dress down as you settle in. You sit down, and turn your attention to the court. The teams are doing warm ups, and you watch as they do layups. One girl catches your eye, her dirty blonde hair tied back into her signature braid. She looks painfully familiar, but you can’t put your finger on it.

That is until she turns around to sit on the bench , and you get a good look at her last name.

Martin.

Your jaw drops in shock, as your brain tries to process all the emotions that hit you at once. On one hand, you’re pissed that she left you in the lurch, but on the other hand… she’s Kate, and Kate is your best friend, someone who you once didn’t think you could live without.

She’s sitting in front of you, conversing with Caitlin. You obviously couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you’re an expert at reading lips (thanks to your parents), and you make out the word ‘single’, to which Kate nods her head at.

For whatever reason, this made your heart tingle, hope flashing through your mind. Maybe things could go back to how they were.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Sarah nudging your shoulder. “Stop staring, girl, you’re gonna burn a hole into her head.” she teased. You bit your lip as your cheeks flushed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mutter unconvincingly. You knew you weren’t being subtle, but at this point, you didn’t care. Your best friend, your first actual best friend, was seated no more than 15 feet in front of you.

Sarah rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. “C’mon bro, you're practically drooling.”

You shake your head. “I know her.” is all you say. Sarah shakes her head, giggling at your antics. “Yeah, everyone does. Her high school stats are off the charts.” You nod, although you’re not surprised. You’d watch Kate play in middle school, and she was a beast then, so you could only imagine what a powerhouse she was now.

And you were right. Kate and Caitlin dominated the entire game, piggy-backing off of each other, getting assist after assist. Whether it was Caitlin passing it behind-the-back to Kate, or Kate doing a no-look pass to Caitlin. The stadium was louder than you’ve ever heard it, most of the ruckus coming from the student section as they cheered on the freshman and their beloved Caitlin Clark.

The duo scored a total of 98 points together, and along with the rest of the team, Iowa won with 112 points, beating the opposing team by 67 points. The crowd storms the court, and you sit and watch as thousands of people in yellow and black attire swarm the players.

You and your roommates stay behind, as Devon waits for the people to clear out so she can hug her girlfriend. Eventually, most of the audience cleared out, only a couple of fans lingering. You take a deep breath as your roommates stand and make their way to Caitlin and Kate, who are laughing about something together.

Kate’s laughter is like music to your ears, a sound that almost makes you cry as an overwhelming amount of memories of hearing that beautiful noise every day swarm your brain.

You stand a little farther back as Devon goes up and hugs her girlfriend from behind, eliciting a yelp from a startled Caitlin. Caitlin turns around, hugging her girlfriend before kissing her passionately. You’d be disgusted, but you're far too distracted because at this point, the attention from Kate is on you.

You both stared at each other for a second before she spoke. “Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked. Her voice is just as amazing as you remembered it to be, only slightly deeper. You smiled nervously as you felt tears well in your eyes.

“I’d hope so. My brother used to drive to take us to the Phillips gas station, and you’d force him to buy you Skittles.” You smile as you watch her eyebrows furrow before they light up with excitement, just like they used to.

“No fucki-” she cuts herself off by jumping on you. Your hands go instinctively to catch her, hooking your hands under her thighs. Kate buries her face in your neck, squealing as she squeezes you as if you’ll disappear if she lets go.

“I can’t believe…there’s- how are you here right now?” She asked as she pulled away from your neck. You’re still holding her, and you know for a fact that if you weren’t in shape, you’d be tired, but because of the workouts your coach has you doing, you’re able to hold her with ease.

“After the move, I got into soccer… it turns out I was pretty good, and they gave me a scholarship.” You say, looking up at her. She grins at you. “That’s amazing! After you stopped sending me letters, I assumed you had forgotten about me.”

Your eyebrows furrow at this. “Wait, what? No, I kept sending you stuff, I just stopped getting stuff back, so I just thought you got busy.”

She shakes her head. “I never got any of them.”

“Really?”

“Not one.”

You shake your head as you put her down. “I don’t know why, I wrote to you every day.” Her arms stayed around your neck as your hands navigated to her waist, resting there as you two looked at each other.

Kate bites her lips in thought but shakes her head, pulling you into a hug. “Doesn’t matter. I’m so happy you're here.” Your heart swells at this, hearing those words healed every single ounce of doubt about her that you’d ever had. She didn’t forget about you, she was in the same boat as you, waiting for a response. For years.

“I missed you so fucking much.” You whisper, finally letting tears fall. Kate hears the way your voice shakes and pulls away. She looks at you with sympathy.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. You shake your head, shaking off her apology. “Not your fault.”

She smiles at you, and you're both looking in each other's eyes for a moment.

Everything freezes. This is the girl you grew up with. The girl who kicked the boy who purposely stepped on your brand new kicks with his muddy shoes. This was the girl who made fun of you for your shitty spelling, the girl who made you feel at home, even while yours was falling apart.

You look in her eyes and you realize home is not always a place. Sometimes home is a person.

Your rock. Your home. Your person.

And she is all of the above.

______________________________

taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @breeloveschris

[alotofpockets]

In the moment | Keira Walsh x Reader

Where you celebrate Keira's Champions League win on the pitch with her

A/n: @scribblesofagoonerr thank you for your help with the pictures!!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

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Football had never been amongst your interests, but that all changed two years ago when Keira moved into the apartment next door to you. You met her on the day she moved in after one of her boxes had broken open and its contents spilled in your shared hallway. 

“Hey, dejame ayudarte con eso.” You told her as you pulled your front door close behind you. The box was done for, so you each carried her stuff inside and placed it in the empty living room. 

“Thank you so much for your help-” Your new neighbour started, “Y/n, and not a problem at all.” She smiled at you, knowing that she would have someone close by who spoke english. “Keira.” You shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Keira, need a hand with the rest of the boxes?” 

Your trip to the grocery store was completely forgotten as you got to know Keira. She told you that she just moved from her home country to Barcelona to play football, and that the club was a huge help in helping her find her way around. Still she gladly took your offer to help her out with some local places that were great to get her apartment ready. 

The two of you got close quite quickly, and soon you found yourself on the couch watching her matches, and it didn’t take much convincing to get you to come to a match. You met a bunch of her teammates after the game, and even when the two of you hadn’t known it yet, they had immediately seen that the two of you would end up together.

Much to her teammate’s delight the two of you quickly figured out your feelings for each other. You got into a relationship a few months after she had moved in next door. Keira had been in a relationship with a fellow footballer before, and was all too familiar with the way people would invade her personal life, and criticise every small thing about her, and the person she was with. So, from the beginning she had been open about wanting to keep the relationship away from the public.

You talked often about what that meant for you, and were open about your feelings on everything. Eventually you decided on keeping your relationship private, but not secret. Your friends and family all knew about the two of you, and so did a lot of the public, but you decided to not share a lot of your relationship on the internet, and that worked for the both of you.

Keira would post one of her insta dumps and have you in one of the pictures without tagging you, or one of her teammates would show you in the background of a picture that they posted. It didn’t take long for fans to catch on and find your profile, but since you kept your profile private, all it meant was that you’d get a ton of follow requests.

You supported Keira in her matches, whether that was from the comfort of your now shared apartment, or in the stadium stands. While football outside of Barca or the Lionesses still wasn’t your thing, you gladly spend your free time watching your girlfriend play the game that she loved.

Just like those matches, you had watched every single match that led her team to the champions league final. The morning of the Champions League final, you met up with Keira’s parents at the Bilbao airport, them flying in from the UK and you from Barcelona. 

You spend the morning exploring the city, and enjoying some food, before you head to the stadium. The closer you get to the stadium, the more football fans you come across. The streets were filled with Barcelona and Olympique Lyon jerseys. 

The stadium filled with over fifty thousand fans, all eagerly waiting for kick-off. The crowd was loud when the players entered the field for their warm-ups, a sneak peek into the electric vibes the stadium would be filled with for the rest of the night. 

Keira was in the zone, warming up, when Alexia pointed you out in the crowd. You saw her searching until her eyes finally met yours. Her focussed expression changed into a bright smile as she waved to both you and her parents. She noticed you were wearing a Barca jersey. You smiled and turned to show her the back, her name and number on the back. 

Seeing you wearing her jersey meant the world to her. Some of her teammates had noticed Keira looking out into the crowd with nothing but love and noticed the sweet moment. Aitana threw her arm around Keira’s shoulder. “Extra motivation, no?” Keira nodded before she continued her warm ups with the team. 

By halftime it was clear that both teams really deserved to be in the final, both teams had chance after chance on goal. Still the full forty five minutes went by without any goals. Both teams were playing well. Keira was playing amazing, setting up many of the chances for her teammates. 

Then finally the deadlock was broken. Keira and Aitana were passing the ball back and forth and then Aitana ran off with it, walking the ball to the left side of the goal and hitting the back of the net. The crowd erupted in cheer as Barca took the lead. You were off your seat celebrating with the rest of the Barca fans. Keira’s name would go in the books for the assist, and you could not have been more proud of her in that moment. 

Of course, breaking the deadlock meant that Lyon started fighting back even harder. The stress of Lyon inching closer and the excitement of Barca almost scoring, made Tracy grab your hand. The back and forth between the teams was truly nerve wracking.

Keira had played a full ninety minutes when she got subbed off for Alexia, as well as Claudia coming on for Mariona. You clapped for them both, they had played an amazing match, and had both been big play makers.

Just four more minutes of added time on the clock. Again Barca moved forward with the ball. The three of you were on your feet as Claudia passed the ball to Ona. Ona got tackled to the ground but got up quickly again as she got the ball back. 

Tracy was squeezing your hand tight as Claudia got the ball back from Ona again. Claudia kept moving up with the ball, and sent the perfect assist to Alexia. Alexia hits the ball with her first contact and it flies into the back of the net.

The excitement of a second goal this late in the match had all three of you jumping into each other’s arms. They had done it. There was no way that Lyon was going to come back from a 2-0 deficit in less than two minutes. 

Every player and staff member on the bench was celebrating the goal from the sidelines. The moment your eyes met Keira’s, tears sprung into your eyes. Tracy puts her arm around you and pulls you into her side. 

Then finally the whistle blew and it was official. Barca won the Champions League. The whole team ran onto the pitch, forming one big huddle of excited champions, as the crowd around them went crazy. You hugged both her parents, all of you so proud of Keira and the team. 

You watched with pride as the girls got their medals, and lifted the trophy together. The happiness and pride on their faces, made the scene in front of you at least ten times better. 

Everywhere around you players brought their families and partners onto the pitch. When Keira noticed, she rushed towards your section. You had just helped Peter over the railing, when Keira fell into his arms. “You did it, my girl, I am so proud of you.” You heard him say, while you helped Tracy over the railing as well. 

She joined her husband and hugged her daughter tight. You watched the three have their moment with a smile on your face. This was exactly what Keira deserved. Not just the win, but the win accompanied by the love of her family. 

When she stepped out of the hug with her parents, she turned to you and held out her hand. You didn’t hesitate one moment, and reached for it. She helped you over the railings and once you were, she hugged you tight. “You were incredible. I am so proud of you.” You whispered into her ear as she held onto you. 

In the moment, all you cared about was celebrating with your girlfriend, her family, and her teammates. You were proud of her, and no amount of watching eyes was going to stop you from showing that.

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[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 4

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 5.3k

c/w - language, small amount of angst, some hurt/comfort. also kinda problematic paige but i get her

a/n - guess who’s endo cramps are killing her!! that’s right, me! fml. as usual this is unedited but i’ll come back to edit later! also, i changed paige’s step-dad’s name from tim to dean because i remembered that azzi’s dad is named tim and i felt like that would be confusing lol. also, thank you so much for all the fic recs i got! i’m so excited to start working on them :3

They’re ten minutes into the thirty-minute car ride and nobody has said a word. Country music is playing quietly over the radio, and Dean and Amy keep glancing at each other. But the awkward silence is deadly.

Nobody spoke earlier, either. After Paige dropped the bomb. It was silent for a good minute before Dean had coughed loudly and turned back to the car, getting wordlessly into the driver’s seat. Amy stared at them for another minute or so, giving them no clue as to what was going on in her head other than her ears, which rapidly turned bright red. Finally, she’d shook her head and said, “We will talk about this when we get home,” before following her husband into the car.

As soon as they were both out of hearing range, Paige had sagged, and Azzi’d looked over at her, concerned. Usually, she’d lay a hand on her arm but she wasn’t sure if Paige wanted to be touched, especially by her, so instead she’d said, “Remember, we can leave anytime.”

Paige had nodded stiffly. And then, without looking at Azzi, she’d gotten into the car as well, leaving the door open for Azzi to follow suit.

And now they’re on the road, Paige and Azzi sitting in the back seat like two little kids in trouble. Azzi wants to go on her phone to avoid the awkwardness but her parents raised her to be polite, no matter the circumstances, so here she sits, stiff and awkward while she rides in this car that smells new and fancy and she hates it.

Chancing a glance over, Azzi sees that Paige is still staring out the window, the same thing she’s been doing the whole car ride, and Azzi hates that, too, because Paige only ever gets quiet when she’s bone-tired or truly upset. And Paige got a pretty good nap on the plane.

Based off the way she acted to Azzi’s words before they got on the road, Azzi’s pretty sure she’s doing that thing where she shuts people out because she’s mad or on the verge of tears or thinking too hard. And when she does this she can get mean, because she’s trying to protect herself, and it comes out all wrong.

She’s always done this, been reluctant to open up about the hard stuff, shut out the people who care about her. She and Azzi have talked about it a lot. She once admitted that Azzi was the first person to get her to actually talk about her feelings. But despite Azzi’s way with Paige, and despite the fact that they just get each other in a way no one else ever has, they still have their flaws. Azzi still doesn’t always know the right thing to say. And Paige still gets mean.

This fact keeps Azzi glued to her seat, thinking sidling closer and trying to comfort her best friend would only end badly. Azzi acts like she has a tough skin but often, the things Paige says when she gets like this cut deep, and it ends with both of them hurt. She’s scared to add a fight between the two of them onto whatever will surely go on with Paige and her parents later. So she stays put, even though every bone in her body is telling her to make Paige better.

Azzi has only managed this for maybe five minutes when she glances over again and notices that this time, Paige’s hand is splayed over the middle seat, fingers tapping anxiously, almost like she’s subconsciously reaching over. And that sight alone is enough to get Azzi sliding over, moving Paige’s hand so she doesn’t sit on it. Dean looks at her through the rearview, but Azzi pretends not to notice.

Paige doesn’t look over when Azzi settles in beside her. But she does reach blindly for her hand before taking it and placing it in her own lap, playing with the fingers nervously. Azzi breathes in relief. Paige hasn’t rejected her outright—she can’t be too upset. At least not yet.

They sit like that for the remainder of the ride.

When they pull into the driveway, Paige gives Azzi’s hand a squeeze before subtly shaking herself out and exiting the car. Azzi follows, afraid to be alone with Paige’s parents for even a second.

Before Paige can close the door, Amy calls, “Bring your bags into your room, Paige. And when you’re done come down and talk to us in the kitchen.” There’s a weighted pause. “Alone.”

Paige doesn’t answer, just slams the door shut. Azzi winces.

Azzi doesn’t say anything while Paige opens the trunk, or when she starts aggressively pulling their things out, or even when she slams the trunk shut. No, Azzi keeps her mouth shut, wanting to allow her best friend to seethe in peace, but when Paige slams into her shoulder when she passes her, Azzi doesn’t want to let it slide. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?”

“Get your bags,” Paige responds gruffly.

Okay, so it’s gonna be one of those times. Perfect.

Despite not wanting to, Azzi does as she’s told, gathering her bags and following Paige to the front porch. She tries not to think about how usually Paige would’ve carried her things for her.

Paige opens the door without a word and they walk inside. The house is nice, open, smells of cedarwood. Paige doesn’t give Azzi a chance to look around, though, instead walking briskly to the staircase, lugging her shit upstairs with impressive strength, and Azzi thanks God she’s in such good shape because she’s practically jogging by the time they arrive at a room at the end of the hall.

“Paige—“ Azzi starts to stay, but Paige cuts her off by throwing her own backpack off her shoulder and dropping her suitcases, as if she’s trying her hardest to make as much a ruckus as possible.

Azzi places her things much more nicely on her usual side of the bed, eyeing Paige cautiously the entire time. It’s the only reason she’s able to catch her before she leaves, anticipating her movements just like she does on the court and darting between her best friend and the door, blocking her.

For the first time in nearly an hour, Paige looks her in the eye, and there’s fire there. “Move, Azzi.”

“No.”

“God,” Paige sighs, “seriously, don’t piss me off. Get outta my way.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi repeats, keeping her feet planted.

Paige stares at her and then shakes her head. “Why are you being so fuckin’ annoying?”

“Don’t,” Azzi says, trying to stop her before she gets too fired up, but it’s already started.

“No, Azzi, you don’t,” Paige snaps. “I knew you were gonna get like this, do your fuckin’ peace and love shit that you think will solve everyone’s fucking problems.”

Azzi swallows hard. It’s been years since Paige went on a rampage like this, and she opens her mouth to stop her, but is quickly interrupted.

“It doesn’t solve anything, dawg. It actually makes shit worse, because it’s so motherfucking annoying having you acting like everything’s fine when you don’t even know.” Paige shakes her head, taking a step towards her. “And that’s the thing, is you really don’t know but you wanna pretend like you do. You don’t know what it’s like to have your mom fuckin’ leave you for some fuckass guy, for her to have new kids outta state and raise them to be hateful just like her. Just like him.”

At this point, Azzi has tears in her eyes, and she attempts desperately to swallow them down. “Did you forget that my dad fucking left me when I was a baby? I’ve never even fucking talked to him, Paige. He doesn’t want shit to do with me.”

“That’s not the same and you know it.” Paige sends her a withering glare, so different from the way she usually looks at Azzi. “You have Tim. You have your mom and your brothers and they all love you so fucking much.”

“You have your dad!” Azzi responds, throwing her hands in the air. “You have Drew, you have Alora!” A tear escapes, against her will, and she wipes it furiously away. “You have me, Paige,” she says, more quietly now. “I love you so fucking much. So you don’t get to take this shit out on me and say mean things to hurt my feelings. That’s not—it’s not fair.”

As soon as she sees the tears welling in Azzi’s eyes, Paige softens, her shoulders slumping, eyes turning on her with guilt rather than venom. “Az, don’t cry.”

For some reason, this makes Azzi more mad, and she turns away to face the door, always having hated crying in front of others. “Well if you say mean shit to me, I’m gonna cry, Paige,” she mumbles, though there’s not much fire to her weak, shaky tone.

“Hey, no, you’re right,” Paige reaches for Azzi’s shoulder, trying to turn her around, but the tears have started now and they’re not going to stop anytime soon so Azzi stays turned firmly away. “Azzi, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ Paige cuts herself off on a sigh. Her hand falls off Azzi’s shoulder, and for a second Azzi thinks she’s going to walk away, but then a pair of arms wrap tenderly around her waist and Paige’s chin is wresting on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I was wrong for that, I shouldnt’ve said any of that shit.” When Azzi doesn’t respond, instead burying her face in her hands to try and hide what she’s sure is an ugly cry, Paige squeezes her tighter. “Azzi, please don’t cry, I’m really sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry, for real. I didn’t mean any of it, I was just so scared about my parents and I took it out on you, I fucked up.”

Azzi nods into her hands, taking a deep breath to try and stop the embarrassing flow of emotion. “I know, Paige,” she tries, but it comes out sort of as a whimper and this only makes Paige circle around to stand in front of her, full-on hugging her now, burying her face in her neck and rubbing her back soothingly.

They’re silent for another moment before Paige says, “I’m serious, Az. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Azzi knows this, fundamentally, but there’s still a part of her that sort of cracked at hearing her best friend tell her that she was annoying, that her efforts to help always fall flat. “You shouldn’t have said it, then,” she stutters, letting Paige hold her close even as her face doesn’t come out of its hiding spot.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have. You’re the only person who can ever make me feel better and I—fuck. Azzi, I’m sorry, I can’t believe—I never wanna hurt you.” Paige lifts her head out of her neck to nuzzle into Azzi’s hair, pressing a kiss to the spot just behind her ear. “Never wanna make you cry.” She plants another kiss there, and Azzi’s breath hitches. From the crying or from something else, she doesn’t know.

Sighing shakily, Azzi finally pulls her head out of her hands to look up at Paige, placing her hands at her chest almost as if she’s about to push her away. She’s sure her mascara is ruined by now but she can’t bring herself to care too much. “It really hurt when you shoved me outside, too.”

A pained expression flits over Paige’s face, and she nods, looking almost sick. “Fuck. I’m—I’m sorry, Azzi. I’m so sorry. Is your arm okay? Does it still hurt?”

Azzi can’t take the guilty look on Paige’s face and shakes her head no. It doesn’t seem to relieve much of anything.

Breathing deeply, Paige closes her eyes and then leans her forehead against Azzi’s, bringing her hands up from her waist to stroke over her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispers, and Azzi’s knows that the nickname wasn’t a slip-up this time, wasn’t just a habit from their pretending. “I’m really fuckin’ sorry.”

And with that, Azzi isn’t mad anymore. Her feelings are still hurt and the things Paige said are still going to replay in her head for quite some time, but at least for now, Azzi just can’t be mad. Because Paige is going through something she could never imagine going through.

“I’m sorry, too,” Azzi breathes, and Paige rears back, but before she can protest, Azzi says, “about your parents. About this whole…situation.” She looks down at her hands on Paige’s chest, and, deciding she won’t be needing to push her away anymore, she slides them up to her shoulders. “It’s shitty and you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be in your position.” She shrugs, swallowing back the last couple tears that threaten to fall, trying to regain at least some of her composure. “I’m going to be here for you, okay? I always am.”

Paige nods. “I know you will.”

“And that means,” Azzi goes on, “you can’t do this again. You can’t take it out on me. You can’t push me away. Because that makes it really fucking hard for me to help you, and I want to help you.”

Paige nods again, more solemnly this time, moving her hands back to circle her waist. “Yeah, yeah, I know, and I’m so sorry for—“

Azzi holds a hand up to Paige’s lips, effectively shutting her up. “Okay, stop. I accept your apology, I promise. Just, show me you’re sorry and don’t do it again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige says. “‘Course.”

“Good.” Breathing mostly even now, Azzi pulls Paige in for another hug.

With a heavy sigh, Paige hugs her back. “We’re in it together, hm? From now on, together.”

Azzi rests her cheek on Paige’s shoulder, the weight of her arms around her, the feeling of her skin and bones, so familiar. “Yeah. Together.”

Paige pulls back just enough to look at her, and when Azzi reciprocates, she’s uneasy to find that Paige is giving her that same new look. The perplexed, maybe enthralled?, almost worried look that has taken over her face more often than can be explained ever since the first time after their kiss. Azzi really wants to work out what it means.

But, as always, Paige corrects herself and it’s gone as fast as it arrived. “We’re good?”

Azzi nods, smiling softly despite herself. “Yeah, P. We’re good.”

—————————————

Paige has been downstairs with her parents for nearly an hour.

From what Azzi can hear from her spot at the top of the stairs, it doesn’t sound to be going too well. The three of them keep going from yelling to whisper-yelling to yelling again, and Azzi swears Amy has cried like five times at this point.

When Azzi hears Dean say, “We just don’t allow sinners in this house, Paige,” and Paige snap back, “Do not use God against me right now!” Azzi figures it might be time to intervene.

Trying to come up with something quickly, she pulls out her phone and dials Paige’s number. She hears Paige’s phone ring downstairs, and the three of them go quiet before Paige says, “Just—one second,” and then there’s a click on the other line and she’s answering. “Um, hi?”

“Pretend I’m your dad,” Azzi says, hoping she’s not on speaker.

“What?”

“Just pretend I’m your dad, Paige. Seriously.”

“Uh, okay.” The line gets a little muffled and Paige says, “It’s dad.” Azzi can hear both Amy and Dean let out audible groans downstairs.

“Okay, now tell them that I—your dad—am offering to fly you home.”

“I…wha—“ Azzi can tell Paige wants to argue but can’t with her parents right in front of her, so instead she sighs and the line goes muffled again. “He’s, um, he’s offering to fly me home.”

Azzi only has a second to hope and pray that Amy shares Paige’s competitive nature before Amy is saying, “What? You told him about this?”

“No,” Paige answers, “he just knows how you’re like now. And he wants Azzi and I to have a good summer, not a shitty one with shitty people.”

“If you want to go back to your dad’s, go,” Dean says, and Azzi’s heart sinks. Maybe this won’t work.

But then, bless her evil, horrible soul, Amy is stepping in. “No. Absolutely not. I will never hear the end of it if we send you to your father after inviting you over. We just…” Amy sighs, and Azzi thinks she can hear her start crying again. “We want what’s best for you, Paige.”

It’s silent for a moment. And then, “Let me be happy, Mom. Let me see my siblings. Let me and my girlfriend have a good trip with y’all.”

Dean interjects. “We really don’t believe in this kind of stuff.”

“I don’t care,” Paige replies viciously. “I love Azzi. It doesn’t matter that she’s a fuckin’ girl. I…” Paige pauses, quite abruptly, and Azzi wonders if something happened. But then she hears a heavy inhalation and a quiet, “I love her, Mom.”

Azzi knows it’s for the act, but she can’t help the way her stomach somersaults, hearing the words she’s always wished Paige would say.

“And it doesn’t matter what you think of it,” Paige continues. “I’m happy. My faith is strong. And what goes on between me and God isn’t your fucking business.”

“Language,” Amy says immediately. But then it’s silent for another weighted moment and Azzi can imagine Amy and Dean sharing that knowing, judgmental look of theirs. Her heart races while she waits for a consensus, and she’s sure it’s 100 times worse for Paige. But after a few moments, Amy says, “Tell your father that you’re staying here with us. Your siblings will be home tomorrow morning. The four of us adults have a reservation at a restaurant tonight, and we’re all going to go.”

“Mom—“

“We will try,” Amy sighs. “Azzi’s a nice girl. We will—we’ll try.” There’s something tired in her voice when she says, “Right, Dean?”

No answer. But Azzi can imagine him nodding gruffly, and a moment later, with no more words from any of them, Paige appears at the bottom of the stairs. She startles a little when she sees Azzi sitting there at the top.

“Hi,” Azzi says sheepishly, finally disconnecting their call. “I was eavesdropping.”

Paige stares at her, and then starts climbing the stairs, a small smile overtaking their face. “Thanks for saving me.”

“I told you I would,” Azzi replies, waiting for Paige at the top. “So. Dinner with your parents tonight.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Paige gets to the second-top step and stays there, so she’s just a little shorter than Azzi.

“Dinner as a fake lesbian couple with your homophobic parents,” Azzi clarifies, and Paige laughs nervously.

“Uh-huh,” she responds. “I think we needa nap before that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Azzi agrees, pulling Paige up to stand with her. “That is an amazing idea.”

——————————————

Azzi is rudely awoken to none other than an old Tyler, The Creator song blasting through the tinny speakers of Paige’s phone. Azzi groans, and she blindly reaches out for Paige to turn the damn thing off, but her hands only find cold bedsheets. Annoyed, Azzi cracks her eyes open and tries desperately to find Paige’s phone, realizing in the process that Paige’s side of the bed is cold. Strange, considering they still have two hours until dinner.

Finally, after probably thirty seconds of this stupid song playing over and over again, Azzi finds the phone tangled up in the bedsheets and slams the off button. It’s sort of pointless, though, because now she’s very much awake and will not be going back to bed.

She sits up in Paige’s bed, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room. The sun is shining through the curtains, reflecting off the mirror above the vanity and showcasing the off-white walls, the pink door to the adjoining bathroom—which Azzi now realizes is in use, the sound of the shower muffled through the door. She hadn’t noticed before because Paige isn’t awfully singing to some Mariah Carey song. Other than the water, it’s dead quiet in there. She must be nervous.

Fiddling with the pink sheets, Azzi feels nervous, too. Usually, merely being in Paige’s space comforts her, but this room—it doesn’t feel like Paige. It doesn’t smell like her, and it’s too pink. There’s no purple at all, actually. And the vanity—Paige has never known how to do much else other than mascara. In high school, she needed Azzi to tell her what concealer was for, and to teach her how to curl her lashes. She certainly wouldn’t have use for an entire vanity dedicated to makeup. The walls are also decorated with cringy, sort of Bible-thumping quotes and paintings of flowers. There’s not a single basketball poster.

No, this room isn’t Paige at all and Azzi feels an ache in her heart, thinking about how out-of-place she must have felt whenever she came to visit as a kid. How out-of-place she must feel now.

Without Paige to talk to, and without her room to comfort her, Azzi settles for laying on Paige’s side of the bed, burying her face in the blankets, and there she is—vanilla, like her hair products, and lavender, like the lotion she wears and the linen spray she uses, because it calms her down.

Azzi thinks she just might fall back asleep, enveloped in Paige’s scent, but then the door to the bathroom opens and steam billows out just before Paige does, wrapped in a towel, hair wet down her shoulders. Azzi only has a second to ogle the water drops adorning Paige’s collarbones before she’s spotted, and Paige gives her a curious look. “You still sleep? I left my phone here so the alarm would wake you up.”

“Yeah, no, it did,” Azzi says, sitting up quickly, before she looks like a weirdo snuggling up in Paige’s spot. “Just tryin’ to hype myself up for dinner.”

Paige gives her a commiserating look. “Me too. I’m shitting my pants, for real.”

“That why you couldn’t sleep?” Azzi asks, stretching out her back and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

Paige hums, bending down to rifle around in her suitcase. “I’on even know what to wear. Apparently it’s some fancy restaurant but I’m not wearing a fucking dress.”

Azzi laughs at that, lifting her hands when Paige shoots a glare over her shoulder. “I’m serious, dawg! And it’s not like I brought a suit or nothing.”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” Azzi says, standing up. “Just wear jeans and tuck a t-shirt or something. You’ll look cute no matter what.”

Paige straights up and gives her a cocky grin. “You think all that?”

“Chill, P,” Azzi rolls her eyes, shoving Paige’s shoulder a little.

“What were you doing on my side of the bed, anyway?” Paige asks, and Azzi can’t help the way she freezes. She’d thought Paige hadn’t noticed.

Trying to cover her reaction, she shrugs casually. “I didn’t know you owned the right side of the bed.”

“Nah, we’ve always had our sides,” Paige shakes her head, taking a step closer. “Why was you all cuddled up in mine?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Azzi says, trying for sarcastic but she can’t even really make eye contact, “maybe I rolled over or something.”

“Please. You don’t move in your sleep.”

“Maybe I do. You don’t know.”

“I think I’ve slept with you more often than I’ve slept alone,” Paige scoffs, taking a step even closer so that they’re practically chest-to-chest. “I know damn well.”

“Okay, seriously,” Azzi says, taking a small step back and stumbling when her thighs hit the bed, “go get dressed, you weirdo.”

“Mm,” Paige says, pretending to think about it. But before Azzi can move away, she grabs her waist and they both fall onto the bed while Paige starts to tickle her like crazy.

“Paige!” Azzi screams, laughing so hard she almost can’t breathe. “Get—off, oh my God!”

Paige is laughing right along with her, and it’s a miracle her towel hasn’t dropped yet. “Tell me the truth!”

“What the…” Azzi giggles and squeals when Paige goes for her armpit, “fuck!”

“I won’t stop ‘till you admit it!”

“Okay, fuck, okay!” Azzi pushes Paige off her, and Paige lets up just enough for her to gasp and say, “It smelled like you, okay? The sheets, they…” Paige has stopped completely now, staring at her with a shit-eating grin on her stupid face, “they smell like you.”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, “and you missed me so much while I was in the shower that you needed to smell my sheets?” She jabs her one more time in the ribs, making Azzi shriek, before rolling off her. “You lil creep.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Azzi insists, even though that’s exactly what it was like. “Now, seriously, go get dressed. You got me all wet.”

What Azzi means by that, of course, is that Paige’s damp towel and sopping hair had transferred to Azzi’s own clothes and hair. But Paige can’t be normal about anything, so she looks over and grins slyly.

“Don’t,” Azzi sighs.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Paige says, sitting up in bed and pulling Azzi up with her. “You don’t gotta be embarrassed. I know I make a lotta girls wet.”

“Stop being weird,” Azzi says, as Paige bends down once again to pull an outfit from her suitcase.

She begins walking back to the bathroom. “I’m not the one who gets turned on by tickling,” Paige calls over her shoulder. Just before she closes the bathroom door behind her, she says, “Don’t worry, we can take care of you after dinner, mama,” and winks at her.

Azzi’s shoe hits the door just as it clicks shut.

—————————————

They drive to the restaurant in silence.

It’s similar to their car ride from the airport, though it is a little less tense than before. Paige isn’t fidgeting too much beside her and her parents aren’t giving each other looks the entire time. That’s gotta be a good sign.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Amy and Dean start chatting idly, Paige and Azzi trailing behind when they walk inside the fancy building and give the hostess their reservation.

It’s only when they’re finally seated that they are addressed.

“So, girls,” Amy says, her voice all forced cheerfulness, “what looks good?”

“I dunno,” Paige mumbles, and Azzi kicks her under the table before saying, “Have you guys ever been here before?”

Amy looks a little startled at Azzi’s voice, but she recovers quickly, looking over at Dean with a forced smile. “Oh, yeah, we come here sometimes.”

Azzi smiles politely. “What do you suggest, then?”

“Um,” Amy says, and then she sort of jerks and Dean winces, and Azzi’s sure Amy has also just kicked him under the table.

Apparently well-trained, he speaks immediately. “We love the spinach ricotta.”

Azzi hums, then nudges Paige. “That sounds good, right?”

“Uh…” Paige looks like she wants to be difficult, but then she sees the warning stare Azzi is giving her and straightens up a little, “yeah, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Wanna share?”

Paige sighs, but luckily it’s barely audible. “Yeah, sure. Let’s share.”

Azzi leaves herself out of the conversation after that, letting Paige answer her parents’ conversation starters. When the waitress comes to take their orders, Paige gets a glass of wine for the both of them. Neither of them really like wine, but it seems classy enough and it might take the edge off just enough that they can actually get through the night unscathed.

It’s not until their dinner arrives that Azzi is addressed again.

“So, Azzi,” Dean says, out of nowhere, “How’s the knee?”

Azzi’s hand goes subconsciously to her surgery scars. “Doing better. PT’s been going good.”

“Good, good.” He leans back in his seat, and Azzi senses trouble. Something about the way Paige protectively rests her arm across the back of Azzi’s seat makes her think she senses it, too.

“You get injured a lot, huh?” He asks.

Azzi sort of hates the way her face gets hot, hoping it doesn’t show up on her brown skin. “I’ve torn my ACL twice, yeah.”

“And your meniscus, right?” he prods.

Without really noticing it, Azzi looks over to Paige, and that’s apparently all Paige needs to jump in. “Hey, let’s not talk about it.”

“Why not?” Dean asks, scoffing. Amy is looking between the three of them nervously. “It’s hard not to talk about. Azzi, you don’t even play basketball at this point.”

“Um,” Azzi replies, her instincts telling her to get hot-headed but with the way Paige is buzzing beside her, she’s gonna need to keep her cool.

“What the hell?” Paige says, her hand going from the chair to Azzi’s shoulder. She looks at Amy. “Mom, you said this wouldn’t happen.”

“Your father is just asking a few questions—“

“He’s not my fucking dad!” Paige exclaims, and Azzi jerks as she’s pulled into Paige’s side. “I already have a dad! He raised me, he loves me, Mom, and he’d never say this shit about Azzi.” Angrily, Paige stands up, tossing a few bills onto the counter and helping Azzi to stand beside her.

“Sweetheart,” Amy says, reaching limply for her daughter while Dean sits beside her looking far too smug. “Paige, where are you going? We’re your ride.”

“We’ll Uber,” Paige responds, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist. “I’m not gonna make her sit through your bullshit because you don’t know how to act like a decent fucking human being.”

“He was just asking—,” Any starts, sounding exasperated, but Paige cuts her off.

“You know what he was doing.” She glares at Dean, who shakes his head, smirking. “We’ll go back to the house,” she sneers. “But if this doesn’t change by tomorrow we’re leaving.”

And with that, she takes Azzi hands and leads them both out into the night.

—————————————

Paige keeps it together until they get to the house.

As soon as they’re stepping through the door, she turns away from Azzi and leans down to untie her shoes. Azzi does the same, but she doesn’t miss the sniffling sounds coming from her best friend.

Paige refuses to look at her when they start heading upstairs, and she tries to make a beeline for the bathroom once they close her bedroom door shut behind them. But Azzi stops her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “P?”

Another sniffle. And then a quick wipe at her face before she’s turning around, trying to look nonchalant but her eyes are red and her lip is trembling. “Yeah?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, and Paige crumbles, hands coming up to her face as she starts crying.

Azzi steps forward to hug her, pulling her down to hide in her chest. “I’m sorry, P. I’m so sorry, this—this sucks.”

“I’m sorry,” Paige replies, voice all small and muffled in a way that makes Azzi’s heart hurt. “I thought they were gonna try…I wouldn’t have taken you out with them if I knew…”

“Hey, it’s all good,” Azzi responds, running a hand through Paige’s hair. “I didn’t mind, really. I’ve heard worse.”

This is apparently the wrong thing to say, because Paige just cries harder. “Fuck, Az, you shouldn’t have to do this.” She lifts her head up to look at her, and Azzi absently wipes her face. “This sucks. It’s the first week of summer and I—I was shitty to you and now my parents, and I—“

“Paige,” Azzi says sternly. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I couldn’t handle it. I can handle it. It’s you that I’m worried about.”

Paige nods, sniffling again. “You don’t gotta worry. I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not fine, P,” Azzi says, and Paige winces, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.

“I’m okay,” Paige insists. “Really. As long as we do this together, I’m okay.”

She straightens up like she’s steeling herself, and Azzi thinks maybe she should do the same.

This is only the first day of their two-week stay.

It’s going to be a long trip.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

City of Love - Matt Sturniolo

Requested by anon Part Two. Part three Pairings - Matt Sturniolo x fem!Reader Warnings - strong language & a lil fluff 😇 W/c - 2536 Summary - You move back to your hometown, Boston, after a bad breakup. When your takeout gets dropped off next door, your neighbor comes by to give you your food, already paid for. A/n - Thank you for requesting ❤️ I had a lot fun with this one!! Kinda gave me some inspiration so I might do a mini series about it?? Let me know what you guys thinks!! I wrote this off my phone but edited most of it on my computer so hopefully there’s no typos 🤦🏻‍♀️ Requests are always open! Check out my masterlist for my most recents!! Also dividers & photos are not mine - all credits to owners. Update - edited. Thank you for reading!!

"Over there is fine," you point to the mover you had hired. After ending things with your high school sweetheart, nearly four months ago, you decided to make the move to one of your favorite cities. The only romantic relationship you've ever known was gone, it left you feeling lonely. Instead of dwelling on the situation, you decided to make light of it, accepting a new job, and moving across the country. Call it crazy, but you couldn't bear living in the same town as the man who broke your heart.

It was a proximity thing - no matter how many times your brain told you to stay away, your heart wouldn't allow it. So, the only way to finally wash your hands of your shitty ex, was to get the fuck away from him. And that's exactly what you did.

Boston has always held a special place in your heart. Your parents were born and raised here. They graduated, meeting after college, and having you a couple years later. Unfortunately, your family moved to Seattle before you hit age 12, due to your dad's busy work life, but you always made it a point to come back.

Your parents referred to Boston as the 'city of love', being that's where their relationship began to really flourish. The love they had for each other inspired you. It was nothing you had ever witnessed, or experienced, before. To this day, they still act like teenagers in love. One of your main goals in life was to find a love like theirs. It was raw and real.

"Okay, looks like that's the last of it," your head snaps to the man standing in the doorway of your new home. You shake your head, almost like you're trying to push the thoughts out of it.

Clearing your throat, "thank you so much, Tony," walking over to your purse, and scavenging through it. You pull out a fresh hundred-dollar bill, holding it in front of you, "I appreciate you guys so much!"

Tony's eyebrows raise and a confused, yet surprised look takes over his face, "you already paid by card, Ms. y/l/n."

You shake your head at him, "it's a tip. I had a lot of stuff to move, and you guys were available last minute. Here, Christmas is coming up soon." Knowing Tony had three young children at home, it was the least you could do. He had only talked about them the whole time he was moving all your belongings in. He ran a small moving business with his brother and father-in-law, and honestly you called all over the city, trying to find a moving company who would accept your proposition last minute. Tony was the only company with the availability, and that you were grateful for.

Knowing money was never a problem for you, you went out of your way to help others in need, whether it be giving a homeless man a hot meal or volunteering at the local food drive. It warmed your heart every time you did a good deed, hoping your act of kindness would go a long way for somebody, someday. Tony gives you an appreciative nod, taking the tip, and goes on his way.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

It was almost seven o'clock at night. You decided unpacking was too much of a bother, so you ordered Chinese take-out instead. There you were, sprawled out on the floor of your empty living room, waiting on your dinner. You were still in the process of furnishing your newly bought home. A bit of a perfectionist, you'd sit on the floor for months until you found exactly what you wanted. Even though your financial state was never a problem, your parents still taught you the value of a dollar, which you were thankful for. Along with your father's amazing money management skills, you were set for life at the ripe age of twenty.

A loud knock on the door brings you back to reality. You knew your ring doorbell wasn't set up yet, so not being able to see who was knocking on your door made you feel uneasy, until you remembered your Chinese take-out. Not caring that the delivery man was going to see you in your superman pajama pants and a cropped tank top, you make your way over to the door, slinging it open. You don't make eye contact with him, instead you reach for your purse, fishing for cash again. Once you pull out a twenty-dollar bill and hand it to him, your eyes finally meet.

What a fine delivery man.

"I already paid for it," he croaks out, his voice getting stuck in his throat for a second. A confused look makes its way across your face as you and the strange delivery man, who apparently pays for people's food, look each other up and down. He clears his throat, "it got delivered to my house. Delivery guy seemed like he was in a rush,” he states, letting his eyes wonder around to the atrocious setting behind you.

“Oh shit, here,” you tell him shoving the twenty-dollar bill towards him, “thank you,” with one hand on the door, ready to grab your food, and close the door in his face. You didn’t care how handsome he was. You wanted to be by yourself, and also save yourself the embarrassment of your cute neighbor seeing you this rough looking. Spiderman pajama, c'mon.

“I was actually gonna eat it,” you watch as his face twists in amusement, “kidding. I’m Matt,” he introduces himself and holds out the brown paper bag your food is in.

“Y/n,” you tell him before taking the bag. Thankfully, it looked untouched. You didn’t know what it was but there was definitely something about this strange, adorable man, joking with you like he knew you already. It brought comfort to your night.

“I like that,” he shoots out, almost like word vomit. Before you can say anything, a cringe-like look spreads across his face, “I mean, it suits you.”

“Thanks,” you let out a giggle. A sudden wave of silence takes over both you, so you awkwardly come up with something to say, “I just moved in.”

“Yeah?” He asks, but it was obvious he already figured that part out. Considering that fact his eyes kept drifting to the empty living room behind you. Matt lets his eyes drift once again, but they finally fall on yours, locking you in. The two of you stay stuck in a trance for a moment, not saying a word.

A blush creeps up, heating your cheeks up a dark shade of red. You let your eyes fall to the floor and back up at him, only to see that his face matches yours. You clear your throat, “come in?” It’s a suggestion, but it comes out as a question.

Matt sucks in a sharp breath, nodding, as you step aside to let him walk in. You turn around and make your way to the kitchen, knowing the only furniture you have is the barstools, your bed, and a couple miscellaneous items. Setting the brown paper bag on the island, “sorry for the mess. It’s been a long day,” taking out two plates out of a box nearby. The only thing you had the energy to unpack earlier was your silverware drawer, so you open it and fetch two forks. Spinning around, and making you way to Matt, little did you know he was already watching your every move.

“I don’t have my furniture yet so we’re eating in here like real adults,” you joke, trying to break the ice. You quickly open the takeout containers of chicken lo mien and general tso’s chicken.

“I was just kidding,” he tells you, eyeballing the food like a starved man. “You eat,” he looks up at you. Those blue eyes had you drawn to him for some odd reason.

“Well, that’s the only reason I invited you in. You said you’re hungry, now eat,” you playfully order. He starts to say something, but his mind decides against it. He gives you a warm smile and nods, “thanks.”

“Any time,” you return the warm smile and take a seat next to him. “One minute,” you hold up a finger at him before running to the living room to retrieve your laptop.

Taking your spot next to Matt and setting your laptop in front of you. Big Mouth plays on the screen, but you don’t bother to change it. Probably the worst decision you made all night because the show was extremely perverted. You and your new neighbor sit in a comfortable silence while the tv show plays in the background.

“So,” he stretches out, “you’re from Boston?”

You shake your head, making sure to swallow your food before speaking, “well, yeah. I was born here but I’ve lived in Seattle since I was 12.”

“What made you move back?” The tone in his voice made you wonder if he was being genuine or just nosey. It was melancholy, that’s the best way to describe it. Like something was missing in his life, like he didn’t have anything to live for.

Taking a deep breath, you had to brace yourself every time he spoke. You didn’t know what it was or why it was happening, but Matt had a certain vibe to him, a vibe that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. All you knew is that you needed to figure out.

“It’s the city of love,” the words rolling off your tongue before you even realize you said them aloud. Matt looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to read you. You match his energy, staring him down like he was doing to you, making Matt blinks a few times, attempting to look away but his mind won’t let hm.

“You really want to get your tongue underneath hers, too. Yeah, you want to get in there like a Claritin to just dissolve,” one the characters from Big Mouth sounds thru the kitchen, a bit too loud. Matt’s head snaps towards to screen, his face heats up dark red as he looks from the screen to you, basically snitching on himself.

For the millionth time tonight, your face matches his - red and flustered.

You and Matt chat for a while, making small talk about the love you both shared for Boston. He vowed to take you out to get more familiar with the city since you hadn't visited in years. Small talk turned into an hour's long conversations about everything under the sun, moon, and stars. You felt like you were catching up with somebody you had known for years. Eventually, Matt's eyes fall to his phone. 10:53 pm. He watches as you yawn, your elbow still propped on the table, and your head resting on it lightly. Big Mouth still plays across your computer screen, the perverted animation wasn't such a bad thing, you had forgot it was even playing. Matt gets up, taking your dishes over to the sink to rinse them off. The small act of kindness impresses you, taking him for the gentleman he truly is.

“Thanks for hanging out with me. I don’t know a lot of people here,” you tell him. In the beginning of the night, you wanted to stay in your solitude. It was an overwhelming day for you, and you weren’t expecting company. When Matt showed up at your door, you had no intentions of eating dinner with him, but you’re glad you did. His company gave you some type of comfort. Even though there wasn’t a lot said between you two, besides random chit-chat, you were grateful he interrupted your night.

Matt leans against the counter, “thanks for having me. I’m right next door so if you ever want to hang out,” he trails on, indicating he had a good night too.

“It’s the least I can do,” you tell him, “especially since you paid for it. Thanks again, by the way.” You weren’t used to having anyone, except your dad, pay for things. Even when you were with your ex, it was a routine you always paid for everything. It didn’t matter if it was dinner and a movie or something more expensive. Hell, you even got his car out of impound before, and that was easily seven hundred dollars. It all went unnoticed with him.

“Well, I seen you moving in earlier. I wanted to come over, but I didn’t want to be a bother,” he tells you, honesty lace through his voice. You walk over to him, leaning your body against the opposite counter. Superman pajamas pants and your cropped tank, you fold your arms over your chest to cover yourself from exposure. Not having a bra on made matters very noticeable.

Matt’s eyes trail over your body, taking in every inch of you. “So, you just wanted a reason to talk me?” your whisper-like tone sends chills down his spine, peppering his arms in goosebumps. He clears his throats and nods. A flirtatious smirk pulls at your lips, “I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah, me too,” the mood becomes softer, and he searches your face with his eyes.

Courage sparks through your core, and you decide to test the waters, “you want to kiss me, don’t you?”

Your questions take him by surprise, and you watch as Matt fixes his posture, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket. He makes sure to keep his eyes locked on yours, “only if you want me to.”

You press your lips together, “do you think I do?” Being a tease was one of your many talents, you were best at it.

Matt’s eyebrows furrow together, and he thinks for a split second. “Y-yea, I think so,” he stutters over his words. It obvious you have a certain effect on him that makes him nervous. Or maybe it was the moment.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

That’s all you have to ask him before his hands shoot out, finding your waist, and pulling you towards him. Your face is inches away from his, and he leans in for a quick, yet hesitant, kiss. It only lasts a split second before Matt pulls away. His soft lips made you want more, so you smash your lips into his, a little rougher than anticipated. Matt snakes a hand around your waist, and the other travels up to cup for cheek.

Your lips move against his like two waves that had been separated for a lifetime. You make a fist of his shirt, trying to pull him in closer to you. This was the closest you had been to someone romantically since your ex. The kiss was something you had never experienced before, being with your ex for so long made the spark die out. You hadn’t been kissed like this in years and you were loving every minute of it, but you knew it had to end soon. You were running out of breath and trying to breathe through your nose with his face so close to yours was sucking it right out of you.

Matt is the one to break the heated kiss, finally pulling to look at you. “Woah," he's absolutely flustered, and you loved to see it.

[servantofthefates]

Life-Changing Money Manifestation Tip 💰

This is not a technique I learned from books, or a principle my elders taught me. It is simply something I have observed to be unfailingly effective.

I know it might seem counterintuitive, impractical, and perhaps even downright foolish. But it has been consistently true for me and the people around me.

The tip is: Never ever be frugal with money.

Even when you're afraid you won't have enough, be open-handed with your spending. Spend on your needs, spend on your wants, spend on others who deserve your generosity. Just. Keep. Spending.

The fuck, right? What if you already don't have enough to begin with?

Well, you know how they say, "Love is infinite" or "There's enough love to go around" or "Love multiplies, it doesn't divide"?

The same is true for money.

Money is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like coins, bills or gold.

Love too is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like kisses, words or gifts.

And it is common knowledge that if we wish to be loved, we must first love ourselves, and give love freely to those who are worth it. We must let love flow through us.

Same with money. If we want to have it, we must first spend it on ourselves and give it freely to those we deem worth it. We must let money flow through us.

And flow it will.

Just as it is nearly impossible for a cold-hearted person to invite love, it is also very hard for a stingy person to invite money.

I have seen this first-hand many times.

This man owned a boutique advertising agency. He gave out bonuses and free international trips to his team the way corporations give out cheap pizzas to their employees. And back then, this man's business thrived. Some months, he made more than global agencies did. And the awards were pouring in too. He was on top of the world.

Suddenly, his elderly mother got terribly sick, and he panicked. He knew he had to spend a fortune on her medical bills, and his fear got the best of him. So he cancelled the free trips. He stopped giving bonuses. Eventually, he even cut down salaries and moved to a smaller office.

One year later, his business went bankrupt. Because all his talented employees left. And with that, the trust of his clients dried out. His business — which had the potential to become an empire — ended up becoming just a TikTok trend.

Because he held on to money too tightly... money felt suffocated and walked out on him entirely.

The opposite example is me. No, I do not also own an ad agency. But I have learned to never worry about money. And since then, money has never disappointed me.

Last year, someone dear to me had been praying for a MacBook, but her parents couldn't afford it. I too couldn't afford it. Not without digging into my savings. So I did. Because I know money will always come back to me. And it did.

Two days after I placed the order, I received an email from Shareworks that my stocks were ready to be withdrawn. The amount? Double what I paid for the Mac. These stocks are released yearly, so I tend to forget about them. But they came at the right time.

And it is like this every time.

I buy a Louis Vuitton bag with money meant for my holiday. Suddenly, a friend invites me to go with them on a fully paid trip to the same country I was planning to visit.

I buy a bunch of tarot decks with a week's worth of transportation costs, and my company announces we're working from home for a week while they repair some rain damage.

I buy a box of Patchi chocolates when I'm already short on my monthly budget, and my salary gets released early because it's the holidays, and the CEO is feeling friendly.

I know life is not always as sweet as I described it to be. Sometimes, it's not about Louis Vuittons and Patchis, but about diapers and cough medicine. I am perfectly aware some people are struggling — not about holidays and tarot splurges, but about keeping the electricity on and putting food on the table. I will not pretend to know the solution to their hardships.

What I do know is there are people who are considered poor in my community who are seriously way happier than me. And I know I have had bosses who made thrice as I did who were far more miserable than me.

And that tells me that despite our different stations in life, energy is energy. And it's always best to let it flow freely.

So I repeat... never ever be frugal with money.

When it knocks on your door, say, "Hey, nice to see you!" When it leaves your house, say, "See you again soon!" And when it finally seems to be making itself at home, do not lock it in the basement. Cook dinner with it. Invite your friends over. Watch a movie. Do karaoke. Look money in the eyes and say, "I'm glad you've decided to stay."

[flemingology]

finals over feelings ─ jessie fleming x reader

in which: lessie disregards you and your relationship while studying for her finals

warnings: like very slightly angsty? r feeling disregarded in the relationship but it ends fluffy :)

wc: 4k

a/n: as much as I feel like Jessie would be a very caring partner, I see this could be something that happens irl lol. little nerd

Canada had failed to qualify for any tournaments over the summer this year. Jessie was gutted, she felt like she let her country down, especially as she had recently been made captain. Sinc's shoes were big ones to fill, and to fall short in the first summer under her leadership weighed on her.

Despite the cons about the football-free summer, there were obviously positives too. Jessie finally had a proper summer break, having two months off in which she could do what she wanted. Of course, Portland sent her training schemes that she had to follow. They included cardio, lots of mobility sessions and some light weight and strength training. Jessie still had to watch her food and just be mindful about anything she did, like she had to on a day-to-day basis throughout the season, but it gave you and her a bit more time and space to work with.

You'd gone back to Canada, accompanying Jessie on her two-week holiday back home. Her parents had welcomed the both of you with open arms and you could tell that your girlfriend really enjoyed a little getaway surrounded by home comforts. You slept in her childhood bedroom, visited all the places she used to hang out at as a kid and spent lots of time with her family. Almost every night was filled with board games and laughter, Jessie finally letting go and decompressing a little after a very stressful and tough season of football.

It was her first in Portland. She'd had a hard time settling in to her new surroundings initially, missing London and missing the familiarity of a club she had been at for a couple years. Everything was new for Jessie, and it overwhelmed her. New club, new country, new teammates, new apartment. You had moved with her – striking a deal with your boss that allowed you to work from America –, and as much as she appreciated having you by her side from the beginning it hadn't entirely settled her. A couple months in, when she also started to find her footing in the football and started playing more regular minutes, is when you finally saw she was growing back to her own self. She presented herself with more confidence on the pitch, and finally found her fun again in the sport rather than having a head hung low every time she came back from a training or match, claiming that she wasn't feeling good about the move and that she wanted nothing more than to go back.

Portland ended the season with a mid-table finish, nothing to bask about but the team and her were quite pleased with the performances they put on throughout the year. Now that Jessie was feeling more comfortable with her surroundings she was excited to get back going, but was also very eager to enjoy her two month break away from the pitch.

The two weeks in Canada flew by and before you knew it the both of you found yourselves back in your apartment in Portland. With 6 weeks left, Jessie decided she wanted to devote some of that time to the two courses of her degree she was yet to complete. She was nearly there, but hadn't found the time yet to study for two finals. It was normally busy all-year long and she would never really have the time to study for a final, but her free summer this year allowed her to pick it back up.

You knew how much finishing this degree meant to Jessie, school had always been a big priority of hers. Even though she loved the fact that she was able to make football her full time job, she often told you she found it unfortunate that she never really got to wrap up her degree like she should've, back in college. She wouldn't have traded her situation for the world, but you were happy for her that she would finally be able to wrap it up this summer. Jessie prided herself on her achievements in school, so you knew it would mean a lot to your Canadian to have an official degree in her bag.

So it begun. Jessie took up your spot in your home office to avoid any possible distractions, you moved your work to the dinner table. The house got very quiet throughout the days. Normally you'd have Jessie chewing your ear off about everything and nothing, talking about anything she'd come across in a book she was reading, on social media, on tv, etc. This time, though, it was eerily silent. Nothing could be heard in your apartment apart from the clicking of your keyboard and the occasional deep sigh that creeped through the door of your office, where Jessie was situated to study for her finals.

It was a new situation for the both of you, and it added a new layer of uncertainty on your relationship. You'd met Jessie when she played football in London, so you never knew what she was like when she studied. You weren't sure if she wanted you to be more or less present for her, whether she wanted you to do extra stuff for her or not, so it was a bit of a tricky situation.

It went by quick though, and before you knew, the final couple days of the three-week period were coming around. To say it had been easy would be a lie. Jessie retreated herself into your office for more than 8 hours a day, not coming out of there unless she had to pee or to go to bed. You knew it was gonna be hard to manage this new situation, but you didn't expect Jessie to be that detached from you and your relationship. As much as you understood that this was important for her, you couldn't help but feel the way you did.

You'd tried a couple things to connect with Jessie during the past weeks.

On most nights, Jessie only came to bed when the clock was nearing 12. You had your back turned to the door but you would hear when she came in, usually not able to sleep anyway when she wasn't in bed next to you. She would tiredly shrug off her clothes and put on some old football stuff and get in bed next to you, not bothering to check if you were still awake. By the time you turned back around and faced her in the hopes of getting a cuddles and kisses in, she'd be fast asleep. The early mornings and late nights were taking a toll on her, so she needed to get all the sleep she could get, rightfully. But to go to sleep without her goodnight kiss, wasn't something she would do.

By the time you woke up and were ready to start your day, Jessie had already gotten up. The first couple times you were taken aback by the way your hand was met with cold sheets when you rolled over, but you got used to it after a couple days. You got up and went about your morning routine trying your hardest not to disrupt Jessie from her studying. The first couple days you made her breakfast, but when you noticed she couldn't even spare a simple thank you or a kiss, you refrained from that too – lunch time was usually similar.

When you finished work around 4, you went for a walk. It's a habit you had picked up in your early days of living on Portland, when Jessie was usually at the club until 5 or 6. Especially now, you could use the time outside. It wasn't particularly because you needed to be alone – you practically were alone for 3 weeks –, but it helped you in clearing your mind. It was in those moments, when you could unwind yourself from the situation, that you could look at it with a more level-headed approach and could put into perspective the way Jessie was acting.

As the days rolled on, you noticed that Jessie was growing more and more tired. She came to bed later, alarms were set earlier and she didn't even eat the breakfasts or lunches you brought her. You knew she was dedicated and you certainly knew that she really wanted to do well on these finals, but Jessie was burning herself out and you wanted to find a way to stop that.

One night, while Jessie was out for a run – despite the studying, she still found time to stick to the training schedules as good as possible – and you were rotting away on the couch, you decided you could do something nice for her. You got up and made your way over to the kitchen, retrieving all the ingredients that you needed to make the soup that Jessie's mum always made for her when she was little. You figured a bit of home comforts would settle her down a little, and maybe you could even try and get through to her about how she was making matters worse for herself by barely sleeping and eating.

You played some soft tunes on the speaker in the kitchen and busied yourself with making the soup, time passing quite quickly while you were working on dinner.

You were just applying some finishing touches to the soup, adding a bit more spices here and there based on how it tasted, as you heard the front door opening. Jessie had made it back from her run and took off her shoes by the door, putting them neatly on the shoe rack. You heard footsteps padding down the hallway and moving towards the living room, deciding not to call her in just yet as she probably wanted to sit down for a couple minutes.

When you deemed the soup as just right, you retrieved two bowls from the cupboards and filled them with fresh soup. You'd made sure it was steaming hot, just the way Jessie liked it. You put the bowls on two trays paired with a couple slices of bread, before making your way over to the living room, where Jessie was still catching her breath from her run. She was scrolling on her phone and didn't hear you coming in until you sat down next to her, placing the trays down on the coffee table by the couch.

She looked at you with a grateful smile and you sat next to her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her ponytail. You pressed a soft kiss against her rosy cheeks, that were slightly cold at the touch. "I made you your favorite, figured you could use some veggies and a bit of home comforts," you said as you placed a hand on her thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Jessie offered you a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes before she frowned. "This is nice, but I'm quickly gonna take a shower first. I'm sweaty and I'm getting cold", Jessie started. You had a hard time concealing the disappointment you felt upon hearing her words, trying your best to keep your shoulders straight when they dared to slouch.

You looked down at your lap, fiddling with the rings on your hand before you replied. "It's warm now, you should eat Jess. You can shower after, it won't take long."

Your reply clearly fell on deaf ears, before you could even finish your sentence she had already gotten up and started making her way over upstairs and to the bathroom. "I won't be long. Thanks for dinner," she said before turning the corner and closing the bathroom door behind her.

You clasped your hands together in front of you and placed your elbows on your thighs, leaning on your hands and letting a couple minutes pass before you finally decided that you shouldn't let your bowl of soup go cold. As much as you were disappointed – and angry, probably – at Jessie, you knew you shouldn't let her demeanor ruin your night. You finished it all rather quickly, enjoying the food that reminded you of Jessie's home. You'd always felt really welcomed in her family and it was nice that you could do things like this that could remind you both of her childhood. On another day Jessie would've loved the fact that you made that soup, catering to her mum's recipe. Tonight though, it seemed like she couldn't care less.

You decided not to dwell on it too much and tried to take it in your stride, thinking she did appreciate it but really wanted a shower after her run. She didn't say she needed space, though, so when you had put your bowl in the dishwasher and put hers in the microwave for her to warm it up later, you went upstairs and made your way over to the bathroom, to see if you could potentially join your girlfriend in the shower.

You knocked on the door and heard a faint "come in," being said over the sound of the running water. You slowly opened the door and made your way inside, being met with the warm air of the shower. "Care if I join you," you tried.

Jessie turned off the water before she spoke. "I was just getting out, actually. I wanted to do a bit more work for school tonight and as it's already late, I should make it quick," Jessie replied. You nodded, but eventually gave her a verbal okay when you realized she couldn't see your face from behind the shower curtains. "Mhm, okay," you started, your voice a little shaky. "Well, I'll be downstairs if you need me."

You didn't await Jessie's reply before you made your way back downstairs and slouched down on the couch. You couldn't hold back the stray tear that made its way over your cheek as you started running through this evening's events in your head. You knew Jessie loved you. She loved you a ton, but she'd made it really hard recently for you to be aware of that. Tonight had been the worst it's been in over the past two weeks. She'd been distant, yes, but she had never turned down lunch or dinner before. Especially not when you'd make her something like you did tonight. As much as she'd spend most of her days away from you, if there was an opportunity to get some affection and be close to you, she'd grab it with both hands – which was the reason you found it weird she denied the opportunity to shower with you.

You heard Jessie emerge from the bathroom and pad her way over to your home office which was just across the hallway. You heard the door close and settled back down, deciding on watching some crappy reality tv to keep your thoughts at bay – not wanting to be an emotional wreck all evening because of how your girlfriend was acting.

A couple hours later, you felt yourself yawn and decided to call it a night. Your eyes widened when you checked your phone and the clock read quarter to 1. You hadn't realized it was already that late, you got caught up in your show and lost track of time. What worried you, though, is that Jessie hadn't left your office yet. This was the latest she'd ever worked and you were sure this wasn't a good move. Knowing her, she'd be up bright and early again tomorrow and if she wanted a couple hours of sleep, she really shouldn't be working this late.

You turned off the tv and made sure all the lights were out downstairs before you made your way upstairs. You tried your luck one final time with her, and while you were making your way over to the bedroom you took a quick stop at your office first. You didn't knock, just slowly opened the door and were met with the sight of your girlfriend's back, cladded in one of your old hoodies. You fully opened the door and leaned your body against the doorframe. "Come to bed, baby. It's late," you tried, in a soft voice. You heard a faint hum coming from your Canadian but she gave you nothing more than that, her eyes trained on the computer screen in front of her. Her final was coming up in a few days, she was cramming as much as she could but you were insistent that this wasn't the way she should be going about things. You approached her and put a hand on your shoulder.

"Jess, baby, it's almost 1," you rubbed her shoulder affectionately. "You really should get some sleep, you and I both know you and your brain will function better after a bit of rest," Jessie let out a deep exhale at your words.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm quite certain I know myself what's best for me. I just wanna finish this bit, I'll be in bed soon," you didn't miss the hint of annoyance that seeped through her voice. She didn't snap at you, but it certainly didn't feel good. You nodded wordlessly and let go of her shoulder, silently making your way out of the room before heading back to your bedroom.

A little over 30 minutes later, Jessie was finally done for the day. She had wrapped up the chapter she wanted to finish and turned off her computer, leaving the room and going downstairs for a drink.

She noticed the bowl of soup that was still in the microwave and silently cursed herself for having forgotten about it. She knew you'd put your work into it and felt bad about how she had just left it to go cold, leaving you to your own devices for dinner. She heated it up and sat down to eat it, making sure your work didn't go to waste. She made sure to leave her empty bowl in the dishwasher and not in the sink, being mindful of the way she left the kitchen so you wouldn't wake up to any dishes. It doomed on her that she didn't treat you right tonight and felt bad about it.

She quietly made her way upstairs, not wanting to wake you, had you already fallen asleep. The bedroom door creaked when she opened it, Jessie narrowing her eyes while they adjusted to the dark room. She could make out your figure under the covers, back facing the door, a sight she'd grown used to the last two weeks when she entered the bedroom. It was only now that Jessie was slowly realizing how unreasonable she'd been towards you these last couple days. You had gone out of your way and beyond to make sure she could study in the best circumstances possible, and she'd disregarded that completely – not just that, she'd disregarded you.

She wanted to make it right and as much as she knew that 1am wasn't the time, she couldn't let it linger on. Jessie quickly changed into something more comfortable and made her way under the covers as silently as possible. You had indeed fallen asleep, soft snores coming from you as you stirred when Jessie's side of the bed dipped when she joined you.

Jessie pressed a couple soft kisses on your bare back, one of her arms coming to lay across your waist as she pulled your body into you. You stirred, slowly waking up as your girlfriend kept on pressing kisses against your body. You slowly opened your eyes and let them accustom to the dark room. Your gaze fell on the alarm clock that was on the nightstand, the time now reading 1:42am. You figured Jessie had only just joined you. You wanted to give in to her touch and turn around in her arms, wanting nothing more than to revel in the affection she was finally giving you – but decided you should give her a hard time. She had disregarded you lately, and you should let her know that you weren't pleased with how she acted the last two weeks.

"Baby, I know you're awake," she mumbled against her back. You hummed in response, unwrapping her arm from around your waist and scooting a bit further away from your Canadian. The silence that fell hurt you, but you didn't want to give in just yet. "I'm sorry, love. I know I've not been the best girlfriend the past couple weeks," she started. Her words were the only thing that could be heard in the room now, no noise coming from traffic outside or anything inside the house.

She tried her luck again and pulled you back against her, breathing out a soft sigh of relief when you didn't push her arm away this time. "I'm sorry, really. I've been super caught up with my work and didn't notice how hard I've been disregarding you, disregarding us."

You sighed and turned in Jessie's arms, snuggling your face in the crook of her neck and waiting for her to continue. You wanted to be annoyed at her but couldn't turn away from the warmth of her embrace. "I'll do better, I promise," she pressed a soft kiss to your crown. "Thank you for the soup, I really enjoyed it."

You lifted your head from your neck and looked at her, her eyes noticeably watery despite the darkness in the room. "You had some?"

She nodded, sporting a small smile. "Yeah, it was nice. Thank you, really. For everything you do. I don't think I've really noticed how much you do for me until now. You've really kept me standing this past period and I've not thanked you enough for it."

You cast your eyes down, a sad feeling washing over you upon hearing Jessie's words. She gently lifted your chin with her index and middle finger and pushed your head back up, her eyes locking with yours. "I appreciate you, baby. So much. I'm sorry I haven't shown you that lately."

Jessie's eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips and you saw how she tentatively started leaning closer. She left a little space between the both of you and left it for you to close, not wanting to cross any boundaries and kiss you if you weren't feeling like it.

You crossed the final bit of space that was left between the two of you and pressed your lips against hers. Jessie poured every ounce of love and adoration she had for you into the kiss, placing both of her hands on your cheeks and pulling you even closer. "I love you so much", she mumbled against your lips without breaking the kiss. You responded by kissing her harder, getting lost in the feeling of her lips against yours.

You only broke the kiss when you had to get some air, reluctantly letting go of Jessie's lips. "I love you too. I really do. And thank you for speaking to me about this," you started and took Jessie's hands in yours. "I have been feeling quite disregarded. I tried to put it down to just you being busy but tonight was a little too much."

Jessie nodded and acknowledged what you said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ears that had fallen in front of your face. "I know that I've been going about this the wrong way and I acknowledge that. I promise I'll do better."

You couldn't help a small smile creeping onto your face. You were happy with how tonight turned out, eventually. "I love you, Jess. Thank you."

"How about we get some sleep, hmm? I'll stay with you in bed tomorrow morning for as long as you want me to, I promise."

Your eyes lit up at the prospect of morning cuddles with Jessie, eagerly nodding and agreeing with her proposal. Your girlfriend chuckled at how excited you were at the simple idea of cuddling with her.

You pressed a final, tender kiss against Jessie's lips before you turned back around and wrapped her arm around your waist. Your Canadian pulled you tight against her, your back flush against her chest and she pressed a couple soft kisses against the nape of your neck before settling her head down on the pillow next to you.

"Goodnight baby, I love you." "Goodnight Jess, I love you too."

[vintagebuckybarnes]

Pumpkin Spice And Everything Nice

Pairing → College Student! Boyfriend! Bucky Barnes x College Student! Partner! Gender Neutral! Reader

Total Wordcount → 2.2K

Summary → Falling in love with your roommate, Bucky, has been one of the best things ever to have happened to you, and he’s showing you every single day how much he loves you. Today, you’ll turn the tables around by taking him on a surprise date after he tells you he’s never been to a pumpkin patch. Together, you will make some memories you will cherish forever, and a tradition might also be born from it.

Tags & Warnings → Canon divergence, college au, roommate au, roommates turned lovers, domestic bliss bursting the seams of this story, implied lovemaking.

Story Rating → Teen

Author’s Note → This story is written for a writing challenge hosted by @elixirfromthestars! This story is inspired by the Stud & Smartie universe, written by the lovely @navybrat817. I have, of course, tried to give my spin to the story, but I believe in giving credit where credit is due, so thank you so much for inspiring this story, Navy! 💜

Writing Prompts @anyfandomfluffbingo → ”Come back to bed.” @elixirfromthestars → College au | “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” | “What else do I need if I have my whole world in my arms?” | “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → Food coma @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → ‘I always want you to’ | “I’m here.” | Singing in the shower

Tag List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.

Falling in love with your roommate may have been the best thing ever to have happened to you, apart from starting your new, exciting life on the other side of the country. Even though your parents have always given you everything your heart desired, the one thing you always missed was the freedom to explore the world, and even though moving to New York isn’t exactly the other side of the world, it still felt like a dream come true to move out of the small town you used to call home. Now, your home is your roommate and boyfriend, Bucky.

For the past few weeks, the weather in New York City has changed into your favorite season, and the changing colors are making you feel happier than ever. Autumn has always been the time of year that made you feel the happiest, as cozy days at home with hot chocolate and movie nights with rain in the background have calmed your mind down on days when you needed it most. It also means your favorite activity of the year is returning: visiting a pumpkin patch and enjoying as many pumpkin-related treats as you can handle in one day.

The rain is softly tapping against the window as you’re curled up under the covers of your boyfriend’s room - your bed hasn’t seen any sign of life in a little over a month, as you’ve practically moved into his bedroom, seeing that it’s the larger of the two in your apartment. Even though you lived there first, and he became your roommate about a month into your first semester, you moved into the smaller bedroom on your first day, decorating it into a warm, cozy place that now has turned into your reading room.

Bucky’s arm is wrapped around you, his warm body pressed against your back as his lips leave a trail of soft kisses over your neck and shoulder. From the moment you two started officially dating, he has made it his mission to wake you up this way every day, and so far, he’s succeeded every time. Your days have started better, and you’ve also noticed your sleeping habits have improved since sharing a bed with him. However, it also means that your habit of getting up early has gone out the window now that you want to spend as much time together as possible.

“How do you look even more beautiful every morning we spend together, Angel?”

In Bucky’s words, you can feel the heat surging throughout your body, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as he compliments you. Without a second thought, you turn around in his hold, gently kissing the tip of his nose once you’re comfortable.

“I’m not sure. It must be because of how happy you make me, Bucky,” you tell him, your fingers trailing softly over his cheekbone. At this, it’s his turn to smile widely, his cheeks reddening at your sweet words. The love between you two is filling your entire apartment, threatening to burst at the seams, and you’ve been wondering for a while if it’s too soon to say it, but you also know you won’t be able to hold it in much longer. And this is precisely why you have planned a special date today.

“I think it’s about time we get up and get ready for my plans today; we still have to drive a little over an hour to get to our destination,” you tell him, but he shakes his head slightly at the thought of leaving the warm nest you two have created. His eyes meet yours lovingly, his entire face softening as he pulls you in for a gentle kiss that takes your breath away.

“No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed,” Bucky whispers, his deep, gravelly voice finding its way deep into your body and soul as it often does. He could tell you anything he wants, and you’d happily gobble it up as long as it means you getting to hear it as much as possible. A soft, almost inaudible moan slips past your lips as you remember what he told you yesterday as you two were making love in this very same bed, your eyes slipping shut at the thought of it.

“What’s on your mind?” Bucky then asks, despite knowing exactly what’s going through your head. Instead of answering, you pull the duvet over your head to hide from him, and he laughs loudly as he pulls you against his chest, where you happily make yourself comfortable again. Your following words sound a bit muffled to your boyfriend, but they make him smile nevertheless.

“I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest. It’s comforting,” you tell him, and you two stay like this for a little longer until you really have to get out of bed. By the time Bucky is in the shower belting out one of his go-to shower songs, and you’re making breakfast - pumpkin spiced pancakes with maple syrup - the rain has finally stopped, and the sun is starting to appear, giving you hope for the day to turn beautiful.

The warm smell of spices fills the air as your boyfriend comes out of his room, fully dressed and his hair styled in the usual way. His cheeks are still red from the hot shower as he walks into the kitchen, ready to get more cuddles in before breakfast. As you feel his long, strong arms wrapping around your waist, you sink into his hold, his cologne hanging in the air and the spices you used in the pancakes.

“Something smells good,” he says as he puts his head on your shoulder, peeking over at the growing pile you’ve already created. A smile brightens your face as you lean into your boyfriend’s hold, butterflies in your stomach running rampant at the simple touch. Sometimes, it still feels unreal for you to be together, and this is one of those moments, but you cherish every second as if it might be the last.

“Thank you,” you whisper to your boyfriend as you concentrate on flipping the pancake. A satisfied hum is in the air as you appreciate its golden brown color.

“Now, before I go and finish the pancakes, is there anything else you need from me?” you ask with a teasing hint to your voice, but the answer that came from your boyfriend is something you wouldn’t have expected him to say, instead going for something like whipped cream or extra syrup. He doesn’t disappoint, though.

“What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms? Unless you’re offering to come back to bed with me, in which case I definitely need you to do that!” You roll your eyes playfully as you chuckle, knowing he’s always looking for ways to get you back in bed to spend the entire day doing nothing but making love.

“If I didn’t have something special planned for today, I would have gone back to bed with you, but I’ve been working on today’s plans for nearly a month, and it seems like a waste to let it go by without a second thought,” you tell him softly after turning in his arms, your hands lying on his shoulders.

“In that case, I’m sticking to your plans today, Angel. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my princess,” he tells you, which has a wave of heat coursing through your veins. Bucky leans in to kiss your lips softly, your eyes slipping shut as he does. When he pulls away, you follow him to get more kisses, and he happily gives them before letting you finish the pancakes and setting up some plates and cutlery on the kitchen island where you two have breakfast together nearly every morning.

“Bucky? Where are you?!” you ask again as you walk through your apartment, ready to go but unable to find your boyfriend. It’s like he’s hiding from you without meaning to do so, and when you finally hear his voice, you let out a breath of relief you weren’t aware you were holding in.

“I’m here, Angel,” he yells from the bathroom attached to your now-shared bedroom. His head pokes around the corner as you walk into the room, plopping down a small bag on the bed before walking over to him and pecking him on the cheek.

“Are you ready to go?” you ask him, and he nods with a broad smile, excitement flowing through his body as he does. How you look up at him has him softening, his neck bending to capture your lips with his. It doesn't take long for the two of you to be in your car, singing along loudly to your favorite music while enjoying some snacks you brought in preparation for your date.

Once you're nearing your destination, Bucky is increasingly curious about what you will do. So far, you have given him practically nothing to work with other than saying you're going somewhere he's never been before, and he's still wracking his brain over what it could possibly be.

"I think it's unfair that you're not giving any hints, Angel; how am I supposed to know where we're going if you're not saying anything?" A slight pout on his lips makes you chuckle as you glance over briefly, and your butterflies inside are again going wild.

"I think it's entirely fair because you always surprise me with the most romantic dates, so today, I will give you a taste of your medicine. It might not be as romantic as you leaving rose petals everywhere before cooking me a fancy dinner and taking me to bed afterward, but I'm sure it'll be a close second."

As Bucky looks outside after your comment, a small smile tugging at his mouth, he suddenly spots a large sign for a pumpkin patch, and it all clicks.

"You're taking me to a pumpkin patch, right?!" The excitement is audible as his voice raises slightly near the end. Not too long ago, he confessed to you that he had never been to a pumpkin patch while growing up, so today, you'll change that. After a few hours of research, you found one that's supposedly amazing, and even though it's a nearly three-hour car ride away, you're more than willing to drive to see his first reaction to visiting a pumpkin patch.

"Wait-" he says, narrowing his eyes at you, "- you've been giving hints for a while, huh? The fall decorations, pumpkins appearing in our apartment, the pumpkin pancakes..." As he pieces everything together, you can't help but feel proud of being able to go through this experience with him.

"Hm-hmm."

The rest of the car ride, you two discuss every hint you've dropped, even the ones he didn't pick up on, and when you arrive, it's like heaven's gates have opened based on your boyfriend's expression. He takes you everywhere, eyes growing wide as the two of you take your time taking everything in.

There are a few food stands that sell the most delicious pumpkin and apple treats, as well as a hot chocolate stand, different games having to do with pumpkins, a maze built out of pumpkins, and last but not least, a patch to pick your pumpkin to take home for carving.

The happiness in his eyes is childlike in the best possible way, and he can't stop squeezing your hand in excitement as he takes a moment to stop at every stand and game, wanting to try everything.

"Would you like me to buy you a treat of my choice?" you ask him as you stand in front of a stand that sells countless types of pumpkin—and apple-flavored pastries, as well as drinks such as apple cider and pumpkin-spiced lattes.

"I always want you to choose something for me, Angel. You have the best taste in everything related to baked goods. I'm happy to end the day in some sort of a food coma if you keep choosing these amazing treats," he says, and your mouth curls into a smile as you order two warm apple turnovers and a large slice of a classic pumpkin pie to share. Bucky gets you both a cup of hot chocolate from the stand directly next to it, and once you've found a comfortable spot to enjoy your treats, you're happily diving in.

"Bucky, I have something to tell you-"

"I'll let you finish in a moment, but first, I must tell you something, Angel. I cannot thank you enough for taking me here! The weather is fantastic, the treats are heavenly, and most importantly, it made me realize how much I love you."

As he says the words, you're overwhelmed with emotions, tears brimming at your waterline as they sink in. Knowing that he feels the same about you and loves you is a feeling you could only dream of, but knowing it's true has your heart beating out of your chest from pure excitement.

"I love you too, Bucky," you whisper, followed by a kiss that seals your words. They're finally in the universe, and you couldn't be happier. Out of all the things you thought would come out of going to college, you never in a million years falling in love with your roommate would be one of those things.

Even though your life may not always have been the most exciting, you're now looking forward to the excitement and love Bucky will bring from here on out, starting with going to a pumpkin patch every year to relive the moment you're currently experiencing.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes

GIF: Source → All the other graphics are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

[simsyworld]

Reclaimed Roots, A Legacy Challenge.

One fateful day, as you flip the pages in the local newspaper, your eyes fall upon an advertisement for an affordable farm on the outskirts of town. This farm had fallen into disrepair, abandoned and forgotten by its previous owners, who had inherited the farm but chose to not take care of it. Despite its rundown state, a flicker of hope ignited within your heart. Your dream of owning a small farm to raise your future family may become a reality! 

You call the owner’s of the property and they start asking for more money. This went from being an affordable farm to a pricey one! You decide to take a leap of faith and go for it. Packing your belongings immediately and setting out for the neglected farms of your dream. When you arrive, you see just how neglected the farm truly is. You find a weathered farmhouse, its paint peeling and windows cracked, surrounded by overgrown fields and rotten fences. But you see beauty hidden underneath it all. 

You see a vision of what this farm could be. A fresh coat of paint, rescued animals, beautiful old oak trees flourishing, children riding their bikes and fishing in the pound. This is where you want your new life you begin.

Required Packs: For Gameplay: Cottage Living, Cats and Dogs, and a pack that allows yard sales. House is made with a bunch of packs but is mostly just all clutter! Main items are from the gameplay packs.

Rules: Aspiration must be country caretaker Start with $500 Place @simsyworld’s lot from the gallery called "Abandoned Farm" hashtag #reclaimedroots or #reclaimedrootslegacy Each generation must live on the family farm. This may call for an extension of the house, a second floor, or a basement. If your sim has more than one kid, they can move out. But the sim you decide to cary on the legacy must live on the farm. Your house has no wifi, so no computers or gaming consoles. A TV can be bought after you fix up the house.  Your sim cannot have a job. Make money by yard sales or odd jobs. Your sim’s teenager sim’s can have a part-time job but they must still help out on the farm Wake up by 6:30am every day to take care of the animals (can take a nap after animals have been cared for) Cannot use “the hand of god” (selling in inventory) UNLESS there is more than 20 in a stack of crops. All other items must be sold during a yard sale. Have a yard sale at least once a week, every Sunday. If it is raining you can skip the yard sale. Sell anything you collect, baked goods, rocks, ect.

Generation One

Name the farm after your last name

Clean the house, buy a new mailbox, pick the weeds, and apply a fresh coat of paint to the house.

Find a stray cat to be your farm cat. This cat likes to live outdoors, so place a bed and food outside. If you get a full relationship with the cat, it can live indoors.

Buy 6 chickens and name each one. 

Build a relationship with each animal before getting a new one

Enter a Finchwick Fair competition 

Befriend the animals and complete the country caretaker Aspiration

Reach level 10 for Farming, Fishing, Cooking

Fall in love with a local farmer

Get married and have a ceremony on the farm

Have 1-2 children

When your first child is born, rescue a puppy that will become best friends with your child

When each sim ages up to a child, you must buy them a bike as a birthday present so your sim’s child can go on adventures.

Teach your children how to fish, cook, and garden

Generation Two

You grow up loving the farm and craving the taste of fresh produce. You watched your parents sell produce and baked goods every Sunday morning and thought it would be a great idea to go bigger! You decide to work towards your goal of making your name in town a staple by opening a store named after your family! 

Have the Freelance Botanist Aspiration 

Paint the house a new color since after all these years it needs a fresh coat.

Buy your family their first computer now that you have wifi

Reach level 10 for Cooking, Baking, Charisma 

Find a stray dog to adopt into the family

Enter a Finchwick Fair competition

Fall in love, get married, and divorced. This relationship didn’t work out.

Own a bakery, store, or restaurant that focuses on the idea of selling food or produce that is fresh. You do not have to have yard sales after you build a store. 

Become good friends with at least 20 sims outside of your household. 

A local baby/child was dropped off at the fire station. You decide to adopt this sim to live on the family farm! 

Build max relationship with your sim’s child. 

Teach your sim’s child how to garden, cook, and fish.

Fall in love and get married

Have family dinner all together on Friday nights including your sim’s siblings who moved out

Generation Three

You were adopted into the most loving family. You fell more into the creative side of life. Always drawing, painting, doing arts and crafts. When you got older you fell in love with the relaxation of making floral arrangements. 

Have the Painter Extraordinaire Aspiration

Reach level 10 for Floral Arrangements, Painting, Gardening

Make 3 masterpiece paintings

Befriend all the animals on the farm with max relationship

Inherit the family business and turn it into a floral arraignment store. You can also sell your paintings here.

Have 5 maxed relationship friends who you always hang out with

Enter a Finchwick Fair competition

Fall in love with 1 of the 5 friends. 

Have family dinner’s on Friday nights and friend dinner’s on Monday night

Find a stray cat to adopt. This cat is obsessed with you and follows you to work at the floral arrangement store.

Marry your best friend and have a ceremony. Invite all of your friends and family

Have as many children as you feel is right.

Do homework with your sim’s children every night 

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