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bytemee · 29 days ago

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HOUSE OF BALLOONS — YU JIMIN.

“you're in my world now, you can stay, you can stay. but you belong to me, ooh, you belong to me."

synopsis. karina wasn’t used to sharing. seeing you laugh with someone else? that didn’t sit right with her.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ (smut), g!p reader, pet names (she calls u puppy like it’s ur name), unprotected sex, p in v, jealous!karina, dom!karina, sub!reader and bad writing ahaa...

words. 1.6k

authors note. i could go for a chipotle burrito but damn do they be taxing

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karina was used to having all eyes on her. she was the kind of girl who walked into a room and made everyone else feel like background noise. and you—shy, awkward, always fumbling over your words—were her favorite plaything.

it wasn’t like you were dating. she just liked keeping you close, liked the way you turned red when she got too close, and liked knowing that you’d drop everything the second she called.

but tonight, you weren’t where you were supposed to be.

she had invited you to the party—expected you to hover near her like always, expected you to wait for her to give you attention. but instead, you were downstairs, sitting on the couch, laughing at something some random girl said.

karina didn’t like that.

she watched from across the room, arms crossed, lips pursed, as she saw the way you were smiling—actually smiling—in front of someone else.

when the girl leaned in a little too close, touching your arm, something snapped.

before you even realized what was happening, karina was in front of you, slipping between you and the girl with a sickly sweet smile.

"oh, i see you’ve met my little puppy," she said smoothly, tilting her head. "careful with this one. she gets nervous around new people.”

you were about to open your mouth to say something then she sat down on your lap, draping her arms over your shoulders. you swallowed hard, your face going pink, completely caught off guard.

karina had always been shameless with her teasing, but this—this was different. she was staking a claim, making sure everyone in the room knew exactly who you belonged to.

the girl you had been talking to gave an awkward laugh, clearly unsure of what to do now that karina had inserted herself into the situation.

"uh, i was just—"

"leaving?" karina finished for her, still smiling, though it was obvious she wanted her gone.

the girl hesitated, looking between the two of you before mumbling some excuse and disappearing into the crowd.

you barely had a second to process what just happened before karina’s fingers were suddenly in your hair, twirling a loose strand between her fingers as she leaned in even closer.

your eyes widened, your face burning up under the intense stare she was giving you. you swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the couch, unsure of where else to put them.

and then, just when you thought she couldn't get any closer, she did, her lips brushing against your ear. "don't look so surprised, puppy."

she pulled away just enough to look into your eyes again. then she got up from your lap, smoothing out her skirt before grabbing your hand and pulling you upstairs, away from all the prying eyes.

and you let her.

karina didn’t waste a second. she shoved you into the first empty room she found, kicking the door shut behind her before pinning you against the wall.

it didn’t matter whether you were hers in name—because in every way that counted, you were. and tonight, she was making sure everyone knew it.

her lips crashed against yours, rough and claiming, like she had something to prove. and maybe she did. maybe she needed to remind you exactly where you belonged.

karina was a damn good kisser, and the longer she kissed you, the harder it got to stand on your own. your fingers curled into her shirt, clinging to her for support, a quiet gasp slipping past your lips.

she loved this. loved how easily she could pull you apart, how simple it was to make you forget everything but her.

when she finally pulled away, a thin strand of saliva still connected you for a brief second before it snapped, leaving you breathless. your head spun, your lips swollen, and you just stood there, waiting—because she was the one in control, and you both knew it.

her nails raked across your skin, making their way under your shirt, and you bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan.

"you don't want anyone else, do you, hm?" she asked, her voice low and soft. she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your jaw, the gentle touch a sharp contrast to the way her nails dug into your hips.

you shook your head quickly, your heart racing in your chest, because no, no, you only wanted her. you only ever wanted her.

karina hummed, satisfied, her grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. "good," she murmured, "because i don't like sharing."

her teeth grazed your skin, and your breath hitched, fingers twitching where they hovered uncertainly at your sides. you wanted to touch her, wanted to pull her closer, but you knew better than to move without permission.

she noticed, of course she did, and it made her smirk against your throat. "what is it, puppy?" she taunted. "you want to touch me?"

you nodded, swallowing hard. "please," you whispered, barely able to get the word out.

karina pulled back just enough to look at you, tilting her head like she was considering it. her fingers trailed up your sides before she finally grabbed your wrists and guided your hands under her skirt until your fingers brushed against her underwear.

"there," she breathed out. "is that what you wanted?"

she was so wet, and the thought that she was this turned on because of you—because she was claiming you as her own—made you whine, the sound almost desperate.

"karina," you pleaded, the bulge in your pants growing more uncomfortable by the second.

karina's smirk widened. "you want me to touch you?" she asked, her breath hot against your ear.

you nodded frantically, still unable to form words, too overwhelmed by desire to do anything except obey.

"use your words." karina's grip tightened on your wrists.

"please," you whimpered, voice shaking. "please, touch me, i need you."

she hummed, satisfied. "that's what i like to hear."

and then her fingers were working at the buttons of your jeans, her other hand reaching under your shirt, sliding up your stomach before pressing against it to push you onto the bed, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

"karina," you moaned. "i—fuck..."

she didn't waste any time. as soon as you were flat on the bed, she crawled on top of you, straddling your waist, grinding against your thigh as her fingers wrapped around your cock.

karina chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. "you're so sensitive," she purred, her hand moving slowly, teasingly.

you whimpered, your hips moving involuntarily. you were starting to unravel, quickly losing control. karina knew it, and she loved it.

"is this what you wanted, puppy?" she asked, her lips brushing against your neck. "you like it when i touch you like this?"

all you could manage was a ragged moan in response.

her hand moved faster, sending a shock through your system, and you threw your head back, eyes squeezing shut. it felt so fucking good, and you couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only let her do whatever she wanted.

then suddenly she stopped.

your eyes snapped open, and you let out a whine, desperate for more.

karina ignored you, instead pulling her underwear down, kicking it to the side before she straddled your waist again, lining herself up with your cock.

her hands pressed against your chest for balance as she started to move, rolling her hips at an excruciatingly slow pace.

you groaned, your fingers digging into the sheets, trying to keep yourself from just taking over and flipping your positions. you knew that would just earn you a sharp slap and a scolding, something that you would much rather avoid.

karina leaned down, hovering her underwear above your mouth, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"open up," she commanded.

you obeyed, and she stuffed the fabric into your mouth. it tasted like her, and the thought of that alone made you twitch inside her.

your hands moved to grip her thighs, fingers pressing into the soft skin, holding her steady as she rocked her hips.

she let out a breathy moan as you tightened your grip on her. "fuck," she panted, her breaths coming in short gasps. "just like that."

you tried to say something, but all that came out was muffled by the underwear she had shoved into your mouth. karina smirked, her pace increasing, the heat in her core growing stronger, spreading through her body. she threw her head back, a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead.

"fuck," she groaned. "i'm gonna cum."

she could feel it building, her walls clenching around you, and she knew she was close. she knew the sight of her falling apart would send you over the edge, too, and that's what she wanted, needed, craved.

her grip tightened, nails digging into your chest, her breathing erratic, her hips rocking faster, harder. she was right there, teetering on the edge, and then finally, she toppled over.

"fuck!" she cried out, her orgasm ripping through her, her legs trembling.

the moment she started to come undone, so did you, unable to hold back any longer; you groaned into the underwear, your head thrown back, your spine arching off the mattress, thrusting your hips upwards as you came.

your hands held her in place, gripping her thighs so hard they would leave marks, but neither of you cared.

karina slumped against you, her chest heaving, her face buried in the crook of your neck. she was panting, trying to catch her breath, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart against your skin.

after a few moments, she pulled away, sitting back on your lap, a satisfied smile on her face. she reached forward and slowly pulled the underwear out of your mouth, her gaze fixed on you, taking in the aftermath of what she had done to you.

"mmm, looks like my puppy is satisfied."

you blinked, trying to clear the haze from your mind, but all you could focus on was the sight of her sitting on top of you, the mess dripping down her thighs, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen.

she looked so perfect.

"do you understand now?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. "no one else gets to touch you like this. no one but me."

you nodded, still unable to find your words.

"good," she purred, leaning in and kissing you, soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how she had been before.

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dog-park-dissidents · 9 months ago

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Went to my first pride parade. I swear, only 10% of the people in the parade were from local groups and the rest were either corporations or people running for office with nothing about queer people on their platform

Oh yeah, Pride parades especially in North America have gotten so far from our roots with how much it costs to get permitting and logistics that most actual queer orgs get priced out of participating. Corporations can afford it but of course, instead of decentering themselves and just being okay with like, Dykes On Bikes (Sponsored By Chipotle), they cannot help but make it all about their fucking marketing. We are literally dogs and we couldn't even dream of pissing on parts of public space to claim them as our own on the sheer scale of a corporate logo.

Local Pride organizers are generally part of the problem and lean all the way into this, cause they're usually shitlibs who feel super fuckin validated because Shell Oil turned their logo rainbow, and don't you know how great it is that their HR department has a nondiscrimination policy. Zac was dating the person put in charge of organizing New Orleans's Pride parade and he was like, what if we save money by not allowing floats, just make it a walking parade so more people can participate? And the rest of the goddamn board of directors was like, no, absolutely not, what would our corporate sponsors think.

So anyway that was the year he used his clout to at least let our local pup group lead the parade, which we did looking like this

Needless to say Shell did not return as a sponsor the year after that

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holyblonded · 8 days ago

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chipotle bag | stargirl

pairings: vicky lopez x platonic!reader, alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you get a tattoo behind alexia’s back

warnings: mention of needles, implied illegal tattooing?

notes: this is based off a a real life experience 😭

“Are you sure about this?” Vicky asked as the two of you jogged behind the group during training, keeping your voices low to avoid being overheard. She looked at you with skepticism, her brows furrowed.

“So sure, man. I’ve begged Alexia, but she keeps saying no. Olga’s more open to it, but even she can’t change Ale’s mind,” you muttered, glancing ahead to where Alexia was leading the pack, her focus fully on the drills. “I’ve tried everything. Sweet-talking, pouting, even doing extra chores. Nothing works.”

Vicky sighed, shaking her head as she dodged a stray ball. “And you really think this plan of yours is going to work?”

“It has to,” you said, determination tightening your voice. “They’ve got date night tonight and are staying in Madrid. I’ll have the car all to myself. This is my only chance.”

Vicky rolled her eyes but a smile played on her lips. “Alright, what do you need me to do?”

Your face lit up with a mischievous grin. “Just be ready by seven. I’ll pick you up, and then we’ll get the supplies. After that, it’s game on.”

Vicky’s eyes widened, a laugh escaping her. “You? Driving? This might be my last day on earth. I didn’t know Alexia even let you near her car keys.”

You scoffed, feigning offense. “I’m a great driver!”

“Sure you are. Just last month, you almost took out the trash bins,” Vicky teased, dodging your playful shove. “This better be worth risking my life.”

“It will be,” you promised, a spark of excitement in your eyes. “You’ll see. It’s gonna be epic.”

“You’re so—” Vicky’s retort was cut off by the sharp blast of the coach’s whistle. “Enough chitchat! Let’s see some pace back there!”

Both of you straightened, picking up speed to catch up with the rest of the team. But the grin on your face didn’t fade, and neither did the anticipation bubbling in your chest.

The sound of your car’s engine hums low as you pull up in front of Vicky’s apartment. Vicky is already standing by the door, her excited energy almost radiating off her as she waves you down.

You roll the window down and lean over the passenger seat. “Ready to break some rules?”

Vicky grins, hopping into the car. “You bet I am. Let’s do this.”

As soon as she shuts the door, you floor it, the engine roaring to life, and the two of you take off, heading toward the tattoo parlor. You turn the music up loud, blasting a random playlist of 90s hits to set the vibe.

“So, uh, you have the address, right?” you ask, glancing at her.

She shrugs confidently. “Of course I do.” She pulls out her phone, tapping it a few times. “It’s just, uh, down the street… or wait, no. It’s like, off a weird little alley or something? Okay, yeah. Turn left after the second roundabout.”

You frown. “Vicky, I don’t think that makes any sense. There’s no second roundabout on this road.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Just trust me. Turn left, then take the first right after the… uh… well, you’ll see.”

You’re already halfway through the intersection, trying to figure out where “the first right” even is. “Okay, you’re gonna have to be more specific. Are we looking for a big sign? Anything that looks like a tattoo place?”

Vicky squints at her phone. “Hmm, no, I don’t think so… Oh! Wait, maybe it’s on the street with the coffee shop that looks like it’s from the 80s?” She gestures vaguely out the window.

You glance at her, your grip tightening on the wheel. “Vicky, that coffee shop was four blocks back. What are you talking about?!”

Her eyes widen in a mild panic. “Okay, okay, don’t freak out. I know where it is! Just… keep driving straight. Maybe it’s on the next street? No, the one after that! Uh, no wait, I think I missed it. It’s fine, we just have to go back.”

You groan, hitting the turn signal for the third time. “We’re lost, Vicky.”

“No, we’re not!” She insists, trying to stay calm. “We just need to find the place. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Is it next to a pharmacy? Is there like a… giant neon skull or something?” You’re about ready to pull over and Google it yourself when she shakes her head.

“No, no skulls. But I think there’s a place that sells leather jackets nearby? It’s kind of like… vintage-y.” She sounds less and less certain with each word.

You slam on the brakes, and she nearly hits the dashboard. “You think?! We’re literally driving around in circles.”

“I swear, I know the area,” she mutters, her eyes darting around, trying to spot any signs of the tattoo parlor.

“You don’t!” you exclaim. “Vicky, you’re killing me right now.”

“Okay! Okay! I got this,” she says, suddenly pulling out her phone again and tapping furiously. “I’m looking at the map, I just need to—”

“Do you know how to read a map?!” you ask, half-laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

“I’m an expert at Google Maps. Trust me!” Vicky declares, but then her phone starts buffering. “Wait, no. Why isn’t it loading? Why isn’t it loading—”

A few more circles around the block and a couple more near-misses with pedestrians later, you finally spot a familiar coffee shop on the corner. Vicky shrieks triumphantly. “THAT’S IT! THERE! It’s right past the alley!”

You make an abrupt turn down the alley, heart racing. You can’t believe you’re actually following Vicky’s instructions. The car bumps over uneven cobblestones, and you finally pull into a parking spot, nearly knocking over a trash can.

“Well,” you sigh, throwing the car into park. “At least we’re here.”

Vicky’s face lights up in victory. “See? Told you! We made it!”

You smirked and looked at your best friend, “Let’s go get my tattoo.”

You sit in the tattoo chair, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt, trying to keep your hands still. The buzzing of the needle fills the room, and you can feel your stomach flip with every faint pulse of electricity that hums in the air. You try not to look at it as the artist preps, but Vicky is already hovering over you, her face twisted into a mix of awe and disgust.

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” Vicky’s voice is high-pitched with disbelief, her hand clutched to her chest as she watches the needle touch your skin.

“Yep. Gotta represent,” you mutter, flashing her a grin. You’re trying to look casual, but your leg is already bouncing nervously.

The artist, a heavily tattooed guy with a sleeve of intricate designs and a steady hand, raises an eyebrow at your nervous fidgeting. “You alright, kid?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say quickly, shifting in the chair, trying to act cool, “It’s just a tattoo. I’ve had worse.”

Vicky looks like she’s about to faint just from watching, her eyes wide and her hand gripping the edge of the chair like she’s preparing for a battle. “Nope. Nope, nope. I can’t. I can’t even watch this,” she says, turning her head and looking away dramatically.

“Oh, come on,” you laugh, trying to act like it’s no big deal, even though the needle is digging into your skin. “It’s not that bad.”

Vicky’s eyes snap back to you, but only because you let out a small, involuntary hiss of discomfort. “See?! You’re hurting already!”

“I’m not hurting,” you grumble, attempting to act all tough while your fingers dig into the chair’s armrest. “It’s just a little sting.”

The artist grins, clearly enjoying your internal struggle, as he starts outlining the numbers “113” on your wrist. It’s a big, bold move, representing your club and your country, but in this moment, you kind of wish you could be anywhere else. Maybe on a beach. Or in your bed, watching a movie, wrapped in blankets. Something comfortable.

Vicky snorts. “Little sting, huh? Your face is turning pale. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I’m fine,” you insist, trying to give her a steady look. You grit your teeth, feeling the needle trace the curve of the “1” on your skin. It’s sharp. It’s… a lot sharper than you anticipated.

“Uh-huh, right,” Vicky scoffs, her eyes flitting between you and the artist like she’s watching a horror movie. “That’s why you’re squeezing the life out of the armrest. I swear I saw your eye twitch.”

Your whole body stiffens as the artist begins shading in the numbers, the buzzing filling the room again. It stings. A lot. You try to act like it doesn’t bother you, but then you let out a little yelp when he goes a little too deep into the shading.

“See?! Told you!” Vicky points at you, her fingers trembling as she gestures to your squirming body. “You’re going to need a break in a second. I just know it.”

“I do not need a break,” you insist, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Vicky grins in that sarcastic way only she can. “Sure. Sure you are. I’m just waiting for you to start crying out in pain, like some kind of dramatic soap opera star. You know, when the tears fall and you scream ‘¡Ay, por favor!’—”

“Vicky,” you growl, “shut up. Please. I’m trying to be tough here.”

You feel your leg trembling. The artist leans over and starts on the cursive “Mi estrella brillante” beneath the numbers, and you have to hold back a whimper as he glides the needle over your skin. It’s definitely not getting easier. You swear, if you weren’t in public, you might just break out into a full-on sob.

Vicky, of course, is no help. She’s practically holding her nose now, scrunching her face like someone just hit her with a wave of terrible smells. “Why does it sound so squishy? Is that… is that the blood? Do tattoos make you bleed?”

“No,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as the needle continues its maddening pattern. “That’s just… the ink. You know, the stuff that actually makes the tattoo. We’re good. This is fine.”

Vicky makes an exaggerated gagging sound and turns away, dramatically clutching her stomach. “I’m going to be sick, I swear. Someone hand me a bucket.”

“Stop acting like you’re the one getting tattooed,” you snap, but you can’t help the small laugh that slips out.

“I don’t need a tattoo,” Vicky says, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. “I’ve got my own ways to show off my style. Like… my hair. Or my shoes. Or…”

You groan in frustration. “Why are you still talking?”

She smirks at your pained expression. “Because it’s fun to watch you suffer,” she says, leaning in closer to you like she’s watching some kind of dramatic slow-motion action scene. “You’re doing great, though. Keep pretending you’re tough. You’re almost there.”

“I’m tough,” you mumble, though you’re pretty sure you just made a weird, high-pitched noise when the needle hit a sensitive spot on your wrist.

After what feels like an eternity of needle-poking and you acting like it doesn’t bother you, the artist finally pulls away, revealing your finished tattoo. The numbers “11:13” are bold and clean, the cursive script of “mi estrella brillante” curling gently below, a tribute to Alexia and everything she’s meant to you. You blink at it for a moment, letting the reality sink in.

You look at Vicky, who’s still half-turned away, but peeking through her fingers. She gives you a thumbs-up. “Not bad, not bad. You didn’t pass out… though I was really hoping for that. Would’ve been hilarious.”

You flip her off weakly with the hand that’s now sporting the tattoo. “Yeah, well, you should try it sometime. You might survive it.”

“Uh-uh,” she shakes her head vehemently. “Not me. I’m gonna stick to my ear piercings, thank you very much.”

You roll your eyes, but a grin sneaks across your face. You’ve got the tattoo, the number, and the phrase that represents you, Alexia, and everything you’ve worked for.

The sun is just starting to rise, the warm glow filtering through the trees, but you’re already at the pharmacy, standing in front of the aftercare aisle like it’s a battlefield. You’re trying to focus on the lotions and creams, but the reality of having a tattoo is starting to hit. It feels weird—like, really weird. It’s not sore, but there’s something about it that feels… permanent. And a lot more real than you anticipated. You don’t think you can look at it much longer without getting a little too emotional, so you’re just going to grab the essentials and get out of here as quickly as possible.

You reach for a bottle of ointment, eyeing the label as you feel a pair of eyes on you. You glance to your left and freeze.

“Well, well, well,” Alba grins at you, leaning casually against the aisle like she’s been there for hours. “I knew I’d find you here.”

You panic for a second. “Alba, what are you—”

“Oh, please. You think I didn’t notice the whole ‘I’m sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to get a tattoo’ vibe? Plus you accidentally butt dialed me yesterday,” she teases, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I might not be a tattoo expert, but I know what a sneak looks like. And you, Estrellita, are definitely a sneak.”

You try to act casual, but you’re pretty sure the constant fidgeting is giving it away. “It’s not that big a deal, Alba. I just wanted a tattoo to, uh, commemorate some things.”

Alba smirks. “Uh-huh. Sure. And you picked 11:13 because you just randomly picked numbers out of a hat, right?”

“Stop it,” you groan, but it’s too late. Alba is already snapping her fingers like she’s won a prize.

“You got the numbers AND the mi estrella brillante part, didn’t you?” She laughs, pulling the bottle of aftercare lotion from your hand and reading the label dramatically. “How adorable. You’re a walking tribute to Alexia. I love it.”

You groan, leaning against the shelves for support. “Why does this feel like such a big deal now that you’re here?”

“Because you’re a rebel now, Estrella,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’ve joined the dark side. You can’t just get a tattoo and then expect to go back to your regular life. You’re officially one of us now.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you mutter, trying to turn away and grab some bandages, but Alba is quick, blocking your path with her body.

“Uh-uh, no way,” she says, grinning. “You’re not getting off that easy. I’m following you home, and I’m definitely gonna be there when you show it off to Alexia.”

“Please don’t,” you say quickly, your face going pale at the thought. “She’s already going to be mad at me for getting it in the first place. She’s going to lose her mind if she knows you were involved.”

“Too late,” Alba chirps, clearly pleased with herself. “I’m in this now. And there’s no way I’m missing this show.”

You take a deep breath and try to focus. “Fine. But just… please, don’t let her freak out too much, okay? Please. I don’t want her to flip.”

“Relax, Estrella. I’ve got your back,” Alba says, giving you a thumbs up as she grabs a bag of bandages and a bottle of ointment. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t throw a fit… or I’ll at least try.”

The two of you walk back to the house, Alba chatting about random things while you mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable explosion when Alexia finds out. You’re so focused on preparing for her reaction that you almost don’t realize when you walk through the door.

That is, until you hear the familiar sound of Alexia’s voice.

“¿Estrelleta?” she calls from the kitchen, and you freeze, eyes wide as your heart starts pounding.

“Hide it,” Alba whispers, pushing you toward the living room as she steps in front of you, blocking your arm from view.

“Alba, no,” you hiss, your stomach twisting in knots.

“Relax,” she whispers back, a mischievous grin playing on her face. “I’m gonna do some expert blocking. You’ll be fine.”

Alexia enters the room just then, her eyes flicking from you to Alba suspiciously. “What’s going on here?” she asks, arching a brow. “Why is she acting so weird?”

Alba steps in front of you with perfect timing, her body perfectly positioned so Alexia can’t see what you’re hiding. “Oh, nothing,” Alba says casually. “Just making sure Estrella is getting some proper care after her… uh, minor surgery.”

Alexia looks at her, confused. “Surgery? What are you talking about? Is everything okay with Estrella?”

“Yes, yes,” Alba says, acting like this is all perfectly normal. “Just… normal stuff. You know, you don’t have to worry about her.”

Alexia narrows her eyes. “What is she hiding behind you? Estrella, what’s going on?”

You instinctively move your arm behind your back, but Alba shifts so her body is blocking every angle. Every time Alexia takes a step forward, Alba steps with her, perfectly positioning herself so Alexia can’t get a good look at you.

Alexia, now thoroughly suspicious, moves closer. “Seriously. What is that about? What are you hiding?”

You keep shifting uncomfortably. “Nothing! Nothing, I swear!”

“Estrelleta,” Alexia says, her voice dropping to a more serious tone, “Stop hiding. What’s going on? Show me.”

Alba is still in full blocking mode. “You don’t need to see it,” she says, her voice overly casual. “It’s nothing. Just a little… thing. A secret thing. Nothing that should concern you.”

Olga enters the room just then, raising an eyebrow at the weird tension in the air. “What’s going on?”

Alexia takes a step forward, trying to peer around Alba. “I don’t like this. Estrelleta, why are you acting so weird?”

“Seriously,” Alba mutters under her breath, taking a step forward and blocking Alexia’s path once again. “It’s nothing, Alexia. Nothing to see here. Move along.”

But Alexia isn’t letting up. Her eyes narrow, suspicious. “Enough, Alba. Move. What are you two hiding from me?”

“Fine!” You finally snap, knowing you can’t keep this charade going forever. You pull your arm from behind your back, revealing the freshly inked “11:13” and “mi estrella brillante” in delicate cursive.

Alexia’s jaw drops, and Olga’s eyes widen. There’s a long, charged silence.

“What the hell? You got a tattoo?!” Alexia asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“I… um… yeah,” you mumble sheepishly, looking down at the tattoo as if it might vanish. “I thought it was a good way to… you know, commemorate everything.”

Alba immediately steps forward, clapping her hands. “You see? It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a little ink. She’s not hurting anyone.”

Alexia glares at you. “You went and got a tattoo without telling me? After I told you no god knows how many times? Do you know how permanent this is?”

“I—I didn’t want you to upset you,” you say, voice shaking slightly as you try to explain yourself.

“This isn’t just a tattoo, Estrella. This is something that’s going to stay with you forever! Forever!” She takes a breath, clearly struggling to stay calm, but it’s not working. “Do you have any idea how much I worry about you already? And now this? Do you have any clue how scared I get when you do stuff like this? You’re sixteen! You shouldn’t be getting tattoos on a whim!”

There’s a long pause. Finally, Alexia takes a deep breath, calming herself, her voice softening. “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, you’d be in deep trouble right now.”

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

Olga just laughs, shaking her head. “Honestly, I’m impressed. It’s… a nice tattoo. I like it.”

“I’m still not over the fact that you went behind my back,” Alexia says, arms crossed.

“I didn’t want to get a lecture,” you mutter, feeling like you’re five years old again.

Alba shrugs, a playful glint in her eyes. “Hey, she’s her own person now. Let her live.”

Alexia sighs, glancing at your tattoo one last time. “Fine, but don’t think this is over.” She points at you. “We’re talking about this later.”

You nod meekly, knowing there’s no escaping the conversation that’s coming.

#barca femeni x teen!reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x teen!reader #woso x platonic!reader #woso x teen!reader #woso x reader #woso community #alexia putellas x teen!reader #alexia putellas x reader #vicky lopez x reader #fcb femeni x reader #alexia putellas #⋆｡˚ stargirl

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lewisvinga · 1 year ago

Text

munchkin ! | oscar piastri x fem! reader

summary; snippets into the life of a fashion student who is dating an f1 driver

fc; eva meloche

warnings; like one suggestive comment,

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

notes; requested !

masterlist !

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: rain rain go away come again another day

oscarpiastri: working hard or hardly working?

yourusername: RUDE i did some v hard stitching tdy , pastry!

yourusername: all so i can finish my midterms n go see u, be nicer to me🤓

oscarpiastri: i’m so sorry the great and wonderful fashion student y/n!

yourusername: sounds better bookie

username: the scarf is so??? cute??

username: oh to be a fashion student in nyc

username: bye it was POURINGG tdy in nyc, how’d you do it girl

yourusername: thoughts and prayers 🥸

yourbestfriend: lol lewser my classes were online

yourusername: business students 🙄

friendone: nah i skipped class😭😭

friendtwo: LMFAO ME TOO, i didn’t feel like ruining my blowout

yourusername: yall fake asf i was left alone 😕

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

yourusername: i call this fashion student in nyc who is trying to survive midterms week, running on $8 lattes and bagels, and missing her bf core

tagged; oscarpiastri

yourusername: 3rd pic is me when i see u , sexy oscarpiastri 😏😏😏

landonorris: gross. 🤢

oscarpiastri: babe??? when did u take the last pic?????

yourusername: when my sexy bf was trying chipotle for the first time ( 3 months ago )

oscarpiastri: ooooo chipotle, i miss it 😕

yourusername: why’re u ignoring me callin u sexy 🙄

landonorris: bc he’s blushing🥰🥰

oscarpiastri: no??? i’m not???😀

yourusername: AWHHH🥹🥹

username: omg the fit in the first slide is so??? cute???

yourusername: thank u it’s part of my collection for my midterms 🥸

username: the car filled w stuffed animals is so me

username: i live for a y/n photo dump

yourbestfriend: y/n was laughing at the smash painting oscarpiastri please she’s going insane

yourusername: LIAR

oscarpiastri: you just send me 5 smash memes, just hold onto your sanity for a little longer😞

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and others

yourusername: my week so far ft my honeybun munchkin cutie pie and my bff

tagged; oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend

oscarpiastri: love you too, y/n!

yourusername: my honeybun munchkin cutie pie🫶 liked by oscarpiastri !

oscarpiastri: cute shows and chanel bag☺️

yourusername: thank u my beautiful amazing munchkin bf who will model for my collection for my finals😇

username: BF OSC BF OSC

username: the way he smiles at her 🥹

yourbestfriend: still regret not getting that black coat💔

yourusername: we gotta go back asap

lilymhe: TAKE ME W U I NEED A BLACK COAT TOO

yourusername: GIRLS SHOPPING TRIP!!

landonorris: ah , so those are the bags u hit me with…

yourusername: u were making fun of osc :(

landonorris: yeah bc he blushes when u call him munchkin?????

oscarpiastri: you WISH you had a gorgeous girl calling you munchkin.

yourusername: tell ‘em, munchkin!

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader

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nova2kss · 8 months ago

Text

Influencer island

“GOOD MORNINGGG AMERICAAAAA”

“I’m your host Yanna Bailey to Influncer Island. It’s new, it’s hot, it’s dramatic, and it’s your new obsession!”

“We’re bringing all of your fav influencers and Internet personalities across the country for a steamy hot adventure”

“You all know them”

“And you all love them”

“I have hand picked these hotties myself…some ofc more known than others none the less they are all wild and ready to come in swinging!”

“Before I introduce you to the men that will participate in influencer island I think it’s fair that I give you a run down of what this show will look like!”

“These 16 hotties will come in ready to pick some partners and participate in challenges”

“Each pair will receive points based off of where they place on the board and based off votes from the viewers aka you guys”

“At the end of each episode there will be a poll placed for voting”

“You guys will be able too vote who should stay, go, and receive a punishment, or a hot date”

“With that being said let’s introduce the men of INFLUENCER ISLAND.

“Coming in first we have the famous polo boy himself”

“Armin Arlert”!

“He’s best known on instagram for being the cute polo soft boy model as stated in his bio, the internet has named him the number 1 golden retriever baby and I couldn’t agree more!”

“Armin is such a sweet heart and I know he can’t wait to be here….but with him being a sweetie pie…will he be able to hang and get wild with the rest of the contestants?”

“Especially this chipped tooth, beer drinking, horse riding, dirty country boy gone viral”

“Reiner Braun”!!

“This big beefy boy best known on that clock app has gone viral for bringing his southern ways onto the app, Reiner caught the attention of many wild men and sexy ladies and was requested by the merrier”

“Currently living in Mississippi but we all know he’s a real south Floridian gator wrestling boy. He’s the perfect match for this cast”

“Next up we got this black cat clothing owner bertoldt hoover!!”

“Best known for his brand flontae clothing and getting hella wild on them boats, don’t let the pretty eyes fool you this city boy knows how to party”

“Kristen made that cast Okay!”

“Y’all know him cause he definitely produced your favorite songs”

“He’s worked with Nicki Minaj, lil Wayne, drake, lil durk, Kanye west, and so many more”

“However when he’s not in that Stu making beats he’s out hosting the biggest parties and filming it all letting us know he was a perfect candidate for this cast!”

“This hot head was requested by the executive producer herself, we’ve seen him whoop ass in that underground ring, we’ve seen him getting wild in the streets, we’ve seen him catchin ass on twt and we wanna see MOREEE!!”

“Everyone love porco”

“But I don’t think as much as y’all love this sexy stoner”

“Constance springer the man that you are”

“He’s 6’0 tatted like a chipotle bag and he is the life of the party! This skater boy most known on TikTok and YouTube is definitely influential and definitely deserves his spot here

“As stated himself he is a fine chocolate sexy black man”

“Get this! He’s also a brand ambassador for flontae clothing who would’ve known”

“Onyankapon, such a pretty name for a pretty boy.”

“We don’t know how wild ony gets and that’s why he was picked cause the whole world wants to see, he’s seen as someone who doesn’t do much. But I’m willing to bet as soon as he steps foot on this sand that will change.”

“And last but certainly not least”.

“Eren Yeager.”

“Or jaeger”

“Regardless this man dose not need an intro at all, you’ve seen him right with Beyoncé on her ivy park campaign”

“You’ve seen him on the front page of Louis Vuitton”

“You all love him and rightfully so he is something else sporting that black motorcycle when he’s not doing them photo shoots”

“You see these men? These are who are gonna be across your screens in the next few weeks!! Now just imagine the women.”

“On the next preview we will be introducing your favorite wild ladies! It’s your host Yanna Bailey signing out!”

How do you guys feel?😁

(Not proofread)

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luvergirl-866 · 4 months ago

Text

something like love

part - 1

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.1k

c/w - language

a/n - hi!! i am so so excited to be posting my first ever pazzi fic (and also my first post on tumblr!) she’s a cute little fake-dating rom-com for yall, and i hope you enjoy reading it as much i enjoyed writing it! updates will probably be inconsistent but im gonna do my best lol. lmk what yall think!! (edit: side note, this is obviously all fiction! i’m sure paige’s mom and step-dad are perfectly good people irl, lol)

“Will you go out with me?”

When Paige asks this question during their weekly lunch date, Azzi is so taken aback that she almost chokes on her Chipotle.

“Shit, you good?” Paige asks, concerned, handing Azzi a napkin to cough into.

Azzi waves her off, swallows, and croaks, “What?”

“Hm?” Paige is staring at her nonchalantly, like she didn’t just ask what Azzi heard her ask. “Oh, that. Yeah, will you?”

“I don’t—“ Azzi shakes her head. Is she being messed with? It feels a lot like she’s being messed with. “Paige, you’re my best friend.”

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t know you…had, like, feelings for me.”

“Huh? No!” Wide-eyed, Paige shakes her head violently. “No, ‘course I don’t.”

Azzi’s stomach clenches—not in the good way it sometimes does around Paige—and she thinks Paige could’ve bothered to sound less disgusted by the notion of her having feelings for Azzi. “Funny, P.”

“I’m for real.”

Azzi frowns. “Actually?” Paige nods and Azzi wrinkles her brow, confused. “So you wanna go out with me but you don’t feel…like that about me.”

“Were you even listening earlier?” Paige playfully rolls her eyes, sitting all casually in her seat with her legs spread like she has the biggest dick on campus. Azzi usually loves it when she sits like that, but now she’s too annoyed and confused to appreciate it. “I was talking about my mom.”

“Oh.” To be fair, Azzi stopped listening a while ago, when Paige was still talking about the hot electrician that fixed her leaky sink the other day. She wasn’t aware the conversation had taken a more serious tone. “Sorry, I spaced. What were you saying?”

“I was saying she and her fuckass husband invited me home for a few weeks this summer…” Paige waits, but it doesn’t ring any bells, so she sighs and continues. “They told me to bring Josh.”

Azzi scrunches her nose. “Eww, why?”

“Because…I haven’t really, like, you know…” Paige tips her head to the side, “told them we ended things.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs.

“I know! I know. Just, I dunno.” Paige sighs, and Azzi knows she’s trying to act chill about it even though she likely laid awake last night thinking about it. “It’s hard, y’know? They’re not like my dad’s side, they’re not like your parents. You know what they did after I told them…” Paige glances surreptitiously around the restaurant, even though they’re far away from campus and not very likely to be recognized, “everything. And if I told them about Josh and they suspected something, I don’t think they’d let me see Ryan and Lauren again.” Her eyes are wide, now, and she’s doing that thing she does when she gets mad, pinching her bottom lip between her fingers.

Paige and Josh were never actually a thing, by the way. Paige doesn’t swing that way and she’s known it for a long time. But she came out to her mom over the new year, and that phone call had ended in a seething Paige at Azzi’s door, yelling and cursing while Azzi listened, and a broken one in her bed that night, crying herself to sleep while Azzi stroked her hair.

So a couple months later Paige recruited their closeted gay friend, Josh. And they became each other’s beards, pleasing her mom enough that she could stay in contact with her younger siblings. That is, until Josh found a nice boyfriend and Paige was left hanging.

Azzi tries to come up with something to say, something comforting, but she’s not sure there is anything to say.

“And I hate them for that,” Paige goes on. “But as long as Ryan and Lauren are still kids, my parents can still keep them from me. And it sucks they’re holding that over my head but there’s not a lot I can do about it.”

Azzi offers a sad little smile, letting her silence urge Paige to go on, even though she can tell it’s hard for her.

“So, anyway,” Paige sighs, sitting back in her seat, “when Josh ended it, I didn’t wanna tell them, because I knew the calls would stop coming, the support. And so whenever they asked about him, I’d be all, oh, yeah, he’s doing great, just busy. Just bullshitting my way through it.”

“And you’ve been doing this for the past two months?”

“Umm…” Paige looks down at her fingers, counting on them, then furrows her eyebrows. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Okay…” Azzi leans forward on her elbows. “So how does your weird question come into all this?”

“Don’t say no right away,” Paige says, giving her this knowing look she hates.

Azzi narrows her eyes at her. “We’ll see.”

Paige reaches over to whack her and misses. “Lemme explain, damn. So, when they called me last night and invited me to come home with Josh, I was like, oh, shit. And I thought of ways I could handle it.”

“Uh-huh…” Azzi watches with wary eyes as Paige bends to rummage through her book bag. “Paige, tell me you’re not—”

“Let me introduce you to…” Paige keys up her laptop and then turns the screen toward Azzi with a wide smile, “Boom!”

“Oh my fucking god.” Azzi buries her head in her hands.

“No, bro, listen! It’s lowkey impressive!” Paige taps the screen. “It’s titled Game Plan for my Summer Visit to my Fuckass Parents, featuring Azzi Fudd. By Paige Bueckers.”

“Good Lord,” Azzi says, taking a peek at the PowerPoint in front of her. When has Paige ever gone to such lengths as to create a PowerPoint before? This must really be serious to her.

“So, listen carefully.” Paige taps the screen again; it changes from the title slide to one labeled ‘First (and worst) Option’. “I put the worst part because it’s true, but it’s also a lil rhyming moment.”

“Right, okay. Just keep going, please.”

“So, this is the first option that came to mind,” Paige starts, glancing down at the screen. “This is the option where I ghost my parents and refuse to come see them at all.” She taps the screen to a pros and cons slide. “As you can see, I mostly only came up with cons.”

“Yeah, because it’s a terrible idea.”

“I know. So then we have option two.” The next slide is labeled ‘Option Two (mid)’. “I put the mid part because—“

“I get it.”

Paige shoots her a look. Azzi playfully kicks her under the table. “Go on.”

“Okay.” Paige nudges Azzi’s foot with her own, but her attention is back to the laptop. “This is the scenario where I let my parents think that Josh and I are still together by telling them that I can come to Montana, but that Josh can’t. It’d be pretty easy, and as you can see here…” she clicks the screen, “there’s an even ratio of pros to cons.”

Azzi nods sagely. Sometimes, her best friend takes a while to get to the point, and Azzi learned a long time ago that waiting it out is the best way to go.

“But there is this one big con: I can’t keep lying to my parents forever. So this option is pretty much a way to procrastinate on telling them the truth. Which takes us to the last option.”

This slide is titled ‘Third Option (THE BEST)’ along with a few muscle emojis tacked to the end. A headache forms at the base of Azzi’s skull.

“This is where my awesome idea comes in.” Paige gives her a very self-satisfied smile. “Instead of Josh, I take you with me to Montana and we pretend you’re my girlfriend for two weeks. Literally a genius idea.” She leans back in her seat, nodding assuredly to herself, and Azzi can’t help but smile because she really loves this girl. Despite how bat-shit crazy she is.

“P, I don’t—“

“Hear me out.” Paige clicks to the final slide. This pros and cons list is mostly pros, and Azzi spots many love-emojis sprinkled throughout. “We pretend we’ve been dating since beginning of March. They know you’re my best friend; we’ll pretend that after Josh broke up with me, you and I bonded and fell in love or some shit. My parents won’t be happy, but I’ll already be there with you so they won’t kick me out or nothing.” Paige frowns. “Probably.”

Ok, so, Azzi absolutely hates to admit it, but this does actually make some sense. Not that she’ll ever say such a thing out loud.

“And then they’ll realize we’re totally in love and I’m happy and even if they hate gay shit they just want me to be happy, because I’m their kid.” Paige says this last part less like a fact and more like something she’s trying to convince herself of. Azzi can’t help but feel bad for her.

“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, watching Paige tuck away her laptop. “That’s your plan.”

“Yep.”

“I’m seeing a few plot holes.”

Paige waves her off. “It’ll work. No plan of mine is gonna fail, trust.”

“And why should I help you?”

Paige gives her an easy smile, and Azzi sort of hates how confident she is. “Because I’m your best friend in the whole world and you love me.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow.

“C’mon, Az. What is there to lose?”

Azzi sighs and almost says something stupid like I’m in, but this isn’t just one of those things that she can help Paige with without thinking twice. It’ll be two weeks of torture, pretending to date the girl she’s secretly in love with while being surrounded by her homophobic family, and then having to come home at the end of the two weeks and pretend she never got to experience a glimpse of what it’s like to be with Paige in the way she’s always wanted.

It sounds like hell.

Azzi sighs again, ready to say no, but when she looks up Paige is staring at her with something more vulnerable than before, open in the way she bites her lip, her arm reaching across the table like she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve and waiting for Azzi to take it.

Azzi takes her hand, instinctually, and says, “Okay.”

She is so fucking gone for this girl.

————————————-

They don’t talk about it for two days after that. It’s not that they don’t get the chance, or that they don’t see each other—they go to the gym together both days—it’s just that neither of them seems to have the guts to bring it up. And why should they? It wasn’t too scary while they were having the original conversation—nothing too big or threatening or, god forbid, real—but as soon as Azzi stepped into her dorm after that lunch, she realized just how much she fucked up by saying yes to Paige’s crazy idea.

It would be an understatement to say that talking about it is the last thing Azzi wants to do at this point.

Paige, however, seems to have other plans, as she usually does. When she storms into the living room—where almost every single member of the UConn women’s basketball team is doing homework—she makes a beeline for the seat beside Azzi on the couch and whispers, “Hey.”

Nika leans up from the floor to poke Paige with her pencil. “No chit-chat, we’re working.”

Paige glares. “What, I can’t talk to my best friend?”

“Shh,” hisses Aaliyah, barely pulling her eyes from her laptop.

Paige flips her off even though Aaliyah is too immersed to notice, and then she turns her attention back to Azzi, bumping their knees together. “Can we talk later?”

Azzi pretends to be focused on studying. “Mm. About?”

“About…” Paige glances around furtively, “y’know.”

Yes, Azzi does in fact know, but she really wishes she didn’t. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Paige says sarcastically. “Specifics? Rules? Details? I prepared a whole new PowerPoint.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing the past couple of days.”

“Yeah, turns out I love PowerPoint.”

Azzi finally cautions a glance up, and Paige is looking at her, completely serious. The eye contact seriously messes with her ability to make sound decisions.

“Okay,” Azzi relents. “As long as you’re quiet for the next forty minutes, we can talk.”

Paige, dutifully, doesn’t say a word for the rest of Azzi’s worktime, letting everyone study in peace. And that’s how Azzi ends up in Paige’s bedroom an hour later, perched on the edge of her bed while Paige struggles with her laptop.

“Okay, fuck this,” Paige says after extensive fiddling. “My stupid fucking PowerPoint isn’t loading. What the hell.”

Every bone in Azzi’s body wants to take this as a sign from God, the fact that this PowerPoint isn’t working, that they’re not supposed to do this. She wants to walk out of the room—and this agreement—for good. But Paige is her best friend and Azzi had always been too loyal for her own good, so she sighs and says, “How about we just talk about it? Y’know, like normal people.”

Paige frowns but closes her laptop regardless. “Okay. So.”

“So…”

“First off,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t continue, “I just felt like I should probably say sorry for dragging you into this.” Paige scratches the back of her neck, always a little awkward when it comes to apologies. “I know it’s a lot to ask for.”

Azzi blinks, startled. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, well…” should she back out? If she were going to, now’s her chance.

Azzi looks down at a scab on her knee. “I mean, that’s okay.”

Paige shifts in her seat, the stool creaking underneath her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had to help with one of your ridiculous plans.” Azzi goes for lighthearted but knows it falls flat under the weight of what she’s going to have to do.

“Okay.” When Azzi looks up, Paige is staring at her suspiciously. She wonders just how bad of an actress she must be for Paige, the same Paige who hasn’t yet detected Azzi’s somewhat obvious, six-years-long crush on her, to see right through her. But then she just shrugs and continues, aloof like she always is. “So then I wanted to ask you about what you think we should do about…all this.”

“…Okay?”

“I was thinking we should get into the, like. The specifics.”

Azzi rolls her eyes. “Paige, just tell me.”

Paige gnaws at her lip until it turns white and Azzi starts to worry it might bleed, but then she says, “We need a sex timeline.”

If Azzi were drinking water, she would have surely spit it out.

“A what?” she asks, sort of incredulous. Paige has said a lot of crazy things before but nothing quite like that.

“Okay, my bad, weird way to put it.” Paige grins as if all of this is funny to her. “What I mean is we need a story to tell my family, our friends. Like, why did we start dating? When was our first kiss? What’s our song? Have we, you know…gone to the penthouse and freaked it?”

Azzi throws herself back onto the bed. Paige’s bed. Which she is just now realizing is probably going to be the bed that many of these fictional events are going to take place in. “Paige.”

Paige is giggling now, which is endearing because Paige doesn’t giggle often. If only it weren’t at Azzi’s expense. “We need to figure it out, for real! People are going to ask questions.”

“People are not going to ask those kinds of questions.”

“Um, excuse me.” Paige stands and walks over until she’s at the bed, pulling Azzi’s legs off the edge playfully. “Have you met our friends? KK’s not shy with that shit.”

Azzi’s ankles instinctively go around the back of Paige’s thighs, but she’s in a certain mindset due to their current conversation and the casual gesture suddenly seems much less innocent than usual. She unwraps them, pulling her legs from Paige’s grasp as discreetly as possible. “So we’re planning on telling them we’re dating, too?”

Paige shrugs. “Yeah. You weren’t?”

“I don’t…” Azzi straightens up as Paige sits beside her, their hips touching. “We spend every day with them, P. Don’t you think it’ll be hard to keep up the act that much?”

“Yeah, probably. But that’s also why I wanna do it.” As usual, Paige sounds completely sure of herself. “We only have a couple weeks until Montana and I wanna make sure we get enough practice acting like a couple.”

Azzi still feels uneasy about the whole thing, but Paige is right—they can’t get onto a plane as best friends and get off it a convincing pair of girlfriends.

Azzi’s face heats at the term. Girlfriends. But that’s what they’ll be, isn’t it?

“I was thinking we’ll tell them next week,” Paige says. “We’ll ask them to hang out and then drop it on them that we’ve been dating since March.” Paige must recognize the look on Azzi’s face, because she puts a hand on her knee—which does absolutely nothing to help. “Is that cool with you?”

Azzi can’t say all of the things she’s thinking right now, so instead she settles for, “Yeah, no.” She pauses, her feet on Paige’s fuzzy carpet, and decides this will be the last time she lets herself doubt this.

“I think that’s perfect.”

————————————

One week later, three Saturdays from the end the school year, Azzi sits with a bowl of popcorn in her lap feeling like she might hurl.

“Why are you acting so weird, Fudd?” KK asks, and Azzi startles at her name, looking at the freshman who’s sitting on the floor in front of her and giving her a weird look.

“Leave her alone, Camera,” Paige says, settling into the couch next to Azzi. “What movie we watching?”

They are all crammed into a dorm, as they often are, excited for a chill team movie night in the midst of finals season. Little do the girls know, they will be getting entertainment from more than just the movie tonight.

“No, KK’s right,” Ice says, scrolling through Netflix on the TV. “Azzi’s been acting super weird.”

Azzi, somewhat offended (she thought her acting skills were pretty decent) looks around the room for help. Instead, the girls all just nod their agreement.

Paige nudges her and raises her eyebrows, and Azzi knows exactly what that look means.

“You don’t have to tell us what’s up if you don’t want,” Inês says from her place on the other side of Azzi, dipping her hand into their shared popcorn. It almost makes Azzi want to back out.

Almost.

Putting on her bravest face, Azzi nods and turns to face their friends. “Paige and I have something we’d like to tell you.”

There’s something odd about the silence that follows this, the way the girls on the floor look at each other before turning their bodies to face the couch, the stragglers sitting in the loveseat and at the dining table leaning forward almost imperceptibly.

Azzi tenses up as she is suddenly under the scrutiny of eleven other girls. How is she going to lie to them? How is this ever going to work?

Paige, through some form of best-friend-telepathy, senses Azzi’s struggle and places a comforting hand on her back. “I can say it.”

This isn’t what they practiced, but Azzi is too grateful and too distracted by the hand on her back to worry about going off-script.

“We’ve been wanting to tell y’all for a while,” Paige says. “But we also wanted to just keep it to ourselves for a little bit.”

It sounds so natural, and effortless, and Azzi can feel herself slipping into this role for the first time. She pretends the hand on her back is more than friendly, the nerves in her stomach are something other than guilt, the things Paige is about to say are true.

If one good thing is going to come out of any of this, it’ll be this feeling of contentment that Azzi will get to have, at least for a little while. And maybe she’s okay with that.

“Do you guys remember that party we went to a couple months ago?” Paige asks. Her nails scratch over Azzi’s shirt, making her shiver.

“Yeah…” Nika says at the table in the corner. Aubrey rests her chin in her palms, looking suspiciously like she’s trying not to smile. For some reason, Ice and KK are clutching each other’s hands.

“Well, when Azzi and I got home we just decided to stay together in her dorm…” Paige trails off like she’s hesitant to continue, and half the girls lean closer to them while the other half look a little too relaxed. Ice is now glaring at KK, who’s…beaming?

“Something happened between us that night.” Paige looks at Azzi now, and even though this is what they were supposed to do the look in her eyes still takes Azzi’s breath for just a moment. She has dreamed of Paige looking at her like this for years, and now it is finally happening, and Azzi thinks she would do anything to make this all real.

Paige opens her mouth to continue, but before she can, KK jumps to her feet and squeals, and Ice throws the remote on the ground with an angry, “Fuck!”

Azzi and Paige both startle, and Azzi loves the way Paige’s hand fists up her shirt in surprise, but then the notices that all the other girls don’t seem surprised or confused at all—rather, they all seem to be having similar reactions to KK. Nika and Aubrey are even singing something, and Inês has jumped up from her spot beside Azzi to join the others in what looks a lot like a celebration. Why are they all chest-bumping each other?

Finally, Azzi finds it in herself to speak. “Guys, what…?”

KK kneels to wrap her arms around a sulking Ice and looks at them both, eyes glimmering. “Whatchu mean, what?”

“I don’t…” Paige releases Azzi’s shirt, her hand falling to the seat behind her. “We haven’t even finished telling you yet.”

“Are y’all actually this dumb?” KK asks, before squealing in Ice’s ear and then throwing herself onto the couple on the couch. “Ugh! I’m so happy for you two lovebirds.”

“Lovebirds…?” Azzi asks, but the room is too raucous for her to be heard and when she looks at Paige, all she gets is an equally confused head shake in return.

“My babies are growing up,” Aubrey says, wiping an invisible tear, and Aaliyah comfortingly pats her shoulder.

“Baby,” Amari says, smiling at the both of them, “we have known.”

“Uh,” Paige says, thrown off for once in her life. “How?”

“Because y’all are the most obvious fucking couple in the country,” Ice chips in. She is still pouting, even with Ayanna patting her on the head and Jana rubbing her shoulders.

During the past week, Paige and Azzi have been dropping a few hints here and there in the hopes that they could almost ease their friends into it before telling them, to make things more believable. But obvious? Obvious enough for all of them to know? That’s a stretch.

Apparently thinking the same thing, Paige laughs awkwardly, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. “We thought we were pretty good at hiding it.”

“Yeah, right.” Caroline flicks Azzi’s forehead good-naturedly. “KK and Ice have had a bet running for, like, six months now.”

At this, Azzi tenses up, and Paige turns to her, gives her a cautious, confused smile. “That long?”

“I started the bet, of course,” KK pipes in. “You two are so in love.” She sighs dreamily and then nudges Ice with her foot. “You owe me my five-hundy, girlypop.”

“You didn’t even actually win, this doesn’t count,” Ice grumbles. “We made the bet six months ago and they only started dating in March. And also, I thought they’d be way too pussy to tell us yet.”

Paige perks up at this, her unusual awkwardness gone as fast as it came. “Hey! I ain’t pussy about nothing!” and KK chimes in with her own protests of, “Girl, boo! It does too still count, you’re just a sore-ass loser!”

Azzi can’t bring herself to say anything, because their teammates believed Azzi and Paige gave been dating longer ago than this arrangement was even brought up. And that means they must have seen Azzi’s feelings for Paige, and whatever the other side of that is, and they don’t really act like a couple, do they?

“Anyway,” Ice continues, a little less pouty now, “I totally thought I’d have to walk in on you two fucking or something before you ever really came clean.”

Azzi squeezes her eyes shut. Paige’s fingernails dig into her back a little bit.

“I actually can’t believe none of us have walked in on them fucking yet,” Nika muses, and the room quiets down a little, everyone mumbling their assent.

“Maybe they’re celibate,” KK reasons, then fixes them with a look. “Are y’all celibate?”

Paige laughs, and then bends close to Azzi’s ear and mutters, “Told you so.”

For the rest of the night, Azzi’s neck is hot.

This might be more complicated than she thought.

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