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#if you have a reasoning for your answer id love to hear it
arteclove · 1 month
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floralovebot · 1 year
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Hi, I want to ask your opinion on something. You made a post that said changing the Winx's races is bad. I agree that it's not okay but I have a question about Helia. I thought he was Native American when I was a child but you've said he's Asian. Is it wrong to think he's Native American?
I had to think about how to answer this for a while tbh! Sorry for the late reply
Anyway, I probably could answer this with a simple yes or no but I really feel like I should explain my answer.
I'm pretty sure you're referencing this post! Anyway, the biggest issue with race changing the canon characters of color is that when you do it, you're participating in erasure. Again, it's not more representation to, for example, make Flora asian - it's erasure because you're intentionally erasing her being latina. Now like I said, I don't have an issue with like,, children not noticing their canon races or ethnicities. It's perfectly fine if a little kid sees characters as something else! The problem is grown adults ignoring and erasing their canon races.
When it comes to Helia specifically, he is very much coded as asian, specifically east asian. I want to clarify that it's not explicitly canon. Rainbow has never stated what race he's supposed to represent and they've never said if he was based on a real person. We don't even know what planet he's actually from! So his race is all coding. However, that coding is still,,, fairly obvious. And I specifically want to touch on how Rainbow depicts their east asian characters versus their indigenous characters.
Most of their east asian characters have either dark blue, black, or brown hair and more narrow eyes. Like,, that's their go-to when trying to make a character Noticeably asian. They're also fond of putting their asian characters in traditional clothing (like qi pao or hanfu) rather than casual clothing. I added Helia at the very bottom so you can see how he compares to other, canonically asian characters.
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While Rainbow has absolutely depicted asian characters in offensive ways (espero...), it's usually pretty respectful. Meanwhile,,, their depiction of indigenous characters is... anything but.
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Like before, I put a picture of Helia so you can compare him to the canonically indigenous characters. As you can see here, their depiction of indigenous characters is,, extremely racist! It follows a lot of racist stereotypes like red skin, face paint, headdress, feathers, etc. Just,,, all around Not Good. And you'll notice that Helia doesn't really "fit in" visually. That's not to say that he has to look like that to be indigenous but remember that this is an animated show with intentional designs made by white people. If he was meant to be seen as indigenous, he would likely share more characteristics with these characters (like having darker, red-toned skin). Again, their depiction of indigenous characters is extremely racist. I don't think there's a single indigenous character in winx that doesn't look like a walking stereotype out of an old cowboy film. Unfortunately, Helia would absolutely look different and more like those racist designs if he was meant to be indigenous.
Now, to actually answer your question. Is it okay to see Helia as indigenous, and specifically indigenous to the americas? Well... as Helia's racial coding is still just coding and not explicit, it's not a crime if you don't see him as asian. Like,, while I do absolutely think he was meant to be seen as asian, it's still technically ambiguous enough that it's not a Bad thing if you don't see him as such.
That said, you need to be extremely careful with how you think of and portray Helia as indigenous. I've talked before about Rainbow including quite a few stereotypes about east asian men with Helia, and unfortunately, most if not all of them, can also apply to indigenous men. For example, Helia is calmer and wise (often shown to give advice in poetic ways), connected to nature (ie, birds, plants, Flora), frequently meditates, etc. These are all common stereotypes for indigenous men. I'd actually recommend reading this wikipedia article!
Anyway, seeing him as indigenous isn't inherently wrong, but there's absolutely a chance that you're picking up on indigenous stereotyping rather than coding or a headcanon. Like the long hair, connection to nature, the pacifist comment, the weird and kind of cryptic one-liners he occasionally has... Unfortunately, a lot of the indigenous!Helia headcanons/redesigns I've seen have been really racist. And the common reasoning for why they think he's indigenous often comes down to these common stereotypes.
So like,,, god I know this is long but honestly the answer is complicated. It's not a simple yes or no. It really, really depends on why you think he's indigenous. Like. Just ask yourself yknow? Why do you think this? Think of an actual reason that isn't just "vibes". And if you're creating any kind of content, even if it's just daydreaming tbh, how are you depicting him? Is there even the slightest hint of a stereotypical depiction? (And again, please research stereotypical depictions because there are a lot and quite a few contradict each other)
If you're confident that you're not stereotyping him, then honestly, it's not that bad to see him as indigenous. I do ask that you try to see and understand him being asian coded, as I do think that's important, regardless of whether or not it's in your face explicit. However, it's not like. a crime if you don't see him as asian. Just be very, very, Very careful with how you think of and portray indigenous!Helia.
Also,,, I didn't know quite how to fit this into the rest of the post but,, while it's not Bad for you to not see Helia as asian, you should think about why that is. For example, there are still a lot of people in the fandom who don't see Nabu as asian, despite his coding being extremely in your face and honestly canon at this point. But because he has darker skin, he's from Andros, and he was with Aisha, a lot of people assumed he was black. That's not inherently a bad thing, but some of those people get really mad when others point out that he's very much south asian which,,, is a bad thing. I understand the feeling of losing rep and wanting to protect that, but you shouldn't bulldoze other groups to do it.
I'm not sure what your opinion of asian Helia is, but if you're like,, against him being asian or refuse to see that very intentional coding just because you really like the idea of him being indigenous,, you should think about that and reassess things.
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slutforln4 · 4 months
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TWO PRIZES
🖇️ lando norris x f1 journalist!reader
🖇️ in which you realise lando wasn’t just the driver you interviewed
🖇️ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol
🖇️ author’s note: the bits in italic are her memories :)
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.
The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Monaco GrandPrix.
Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.
You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.
That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?
You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.
Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.
You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.
“Hello?”
She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”
Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.
“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”
“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”
“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”
“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.
“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”
“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”
With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.
Well, not first ever.
You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.
Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.
It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.
You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.
The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”
Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.
If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.
You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.
“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.
“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”
“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.
Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.
After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”
You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.
This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.
You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.
“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”
“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”
The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.
“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”
Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.
“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”
“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.
It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.
Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”
“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.
“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.
After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.
“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”
Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.
“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy.“This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”
“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”
You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”
Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”
“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“
“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”
You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.
“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.
He gives you a card with his number on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”
And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.
“Thanks, mate.”
Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.
His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.
When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.
You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”
“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”
“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “Victory looks good on you.”
“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”
“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“
“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”
“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”
It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.
Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.
The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.
It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.
You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”
The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.
Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.
Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.
“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”
His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.
“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.
You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.
After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.
You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.
“It’s you.”
Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.
You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”
“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.
You nodded. “Every day since that night.”
Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”
A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”
“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”
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timmyyyturner · 6 months
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Dm's: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader
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TW: Alcohol.
jasontodd: I'm in love with you.
y/nl/n: i literally have no idea who you are.
It started a few months ago when you were followed by some random guy on Instagram. He had a racking of 28 Million followers and you were just a girl with 2K posting GRWM's and make up tutorials.
jasontodd: you looked so pretty in your livestream like MARRY ME TF??? ♡ liked by y/nl/n
y/nl/n: thank you, baby ♡ liked by jasontodd
You didn't get why you were so special.
y/nl/n: *voice memo* I'm serious like is there a reason you think I'm soooo pretty? ♡ liked by jasontodd
jasontodd: Damn. Even your voice is hot.
jasontodd: I'm sorry for inhaling the same oxygen as you🙏
y/nl/n: LMAO
It was kinda cute, kinda stalkery. Every single thing you posted he liked, seconds after. Praising you like you were an absolute goddess. At first you thought maybe it was a fake account but no, he was the real deal (he sent you a picture of his ID with blurred out details). When you Googled his name, you didn't expect his adoptive dad to be the BRUCE WAYNE. You might not be Wayne obsessed but everyone in Gotham know who Bruce Wayne was.
jasontodd: You busy??????
y/nl/n: no, why?
It was late almost 3 in the morning and you'd been occupied by messaging some guy who slid into your dm's six months ago. You were surprised when a incoming video call notification popped up on your phone. You were hesitant to but answered it. "Hello?" His camera was moving a lot but it was quite on his side, you could hear how heavy his footsteps were. You were laying in bed cozied up holding your pillow in your arms, another propping up the phone.
"Gimme a second." You watched him set the camera up in his bathroom, toothbrush hunging from his mouth. "There." He continued brushing his teeth. "Where are you going dressed so handsomely?" He snickered. "Well, pretty lady. It's not where I am heading but where I've been. I just got home from a friends after party."
"Probably using the art of back bending to bring home chicks?" You tilted your head. "Unless the chick was you, pretty, Ion want her near me." You smiled, He yawned causing you to do the same. "Dick is making me brush my teeth cause I threw up in his car and now my breath stinks." You nodded, listening to his little rant. "He's getting me a bucket so I don't choke on my vomit in my sleep, how many people do you think died like that?"
"Well-" You attempted to answer but he cut you off unintentionally by throwing up off screen, thankfully before returning to the screen, rinsing his mouth and rebrushing his teeth. "Who's Azealia Banks? Is she a influencer?" You smiled. "She's in the music industry, a real controversial person." He hummed.
"Who are you talking to?" Jason picked up his phone. "My girlfriend and you can't see her cause she's mine, your brain will hurt with beauty." Jason kissed the screen before you heard Dick approach him. "C'mon Jay get in bed now."
"No." You watched Dick attempt drag Jason— who was throwing lowsy kicks and punches at Dick— to bed. You giggled watching the camera angle change in the hands of drunk Jason before the phone fell somewhere. "Get. In. Bed."
"No." It was funny hearing Jason have an actual sibling bond. "Fine, I'll just call in the big guns. ALFRED!" You could hear Jason mumble a 'fine' before a ruffling of blankets as he got in bed. "NOT ON YOUR STOMACH!" Dick yelled, picking up the phone, looking at you. You waved at him sweetly. "Jason, there's no way you pulled her. She's so pretty and nice and you're... Jason." Jason snatched the phone frowning. "I don't like you." Jason laid on his side, Dick was on his way out of the room before turning to Jason to say something. "Hey, Y/n, do you wanna get married tommorow?"
"Uhm, I'll discuss this with sober you, okay baby." Jason hummed. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" You smiled. "Okay." Dick smiled leaving the room.
He fell asleep a little over a hour later. You pressed a kiss to your screen before hanging up and going to bed. He woke up with a throbbing headache. He grabbed his phone seeing you posted on your story 30 minutes ago. He opened it seeing a picture of him and you on a video call. Did he call you last night?
"don't go! what if I choke on my drunk vomit and die?!" - jason todd. He chuckled reading that. He liked the story immediately getting a reply.
y/nl/n: alive then?
He smiled.
jasontodd: Sorry about last night lol.
y/nl/n: lol don't worry about it :))!
After that you sent him a picture of lots of you cooking, which he liked. What you did next though surprised him.
y/nl/n: 📍live location
y/nl/n: join me? we can discuss our marriage, boyfriend ;)
He never got out of bed faster.
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Text
TENDER CARE. 18+
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pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary. you’ve been feeling insecure lately and your boyfriend, bucky knows just the way to make you feel pretty
word count. 2847
warnings. 18+ only!! hurt/comfort, reader feeling insecure, lots of hand kissing bc that shit makes me weak, kissing in general, praise, body worshiping, oral (f receiving) little bit of titty stuff, unprotected pinv sex, bucky being the best bf. minors dni
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It was late, the evening quiet - the winter moon, a bright slither of silver amongst the dark blue sky. 
As you lay in your bed, admiring her -the moon’s- beauty through the condensation of your window, your mind begins to drift, irrationality throwing hurdles at you. Your brain darting back and forth to those same thoughts you've been having more of lately - ones where doubt and insecurity flood any sense of logicality. 
You knew you had no reason to feel this way. Your boyfriend always went to grave lengths to ensure you felt loved and appreciated, showing you nothing but tender care. Though, there was just something in your brain, that little green gremlin instilling distrust within you - no fault to him.
You felt isolated with your sense of humility, often feeling as though you didn't have someone to confide in, someone to talk to. It wasn't an easy topic to bring up, and although you felt comfortable enough with Bucky to share your mind freely, this was something that you just could not stomach. 
Not only were you thinking about yourself, you were thinking of Bucky. The thought of admitting to him you felt insecure in your relationship felt like the highest form of betrayal. To confess to the man who's been torn apart and stitched together more times than one can count - that you felt unlovable, was something you couldn't bear. 
The amount of hurt you would cause him simply by sharing was enough to deter you. So, for that reason alone, you kept it hidden. Letting yourself wallow in the crappy feeling unaided. 
Your phone vibrates on your nightstand beside you, the screen obnoxiously bright - the white almost blinding you within your dim bedroom. Teary-eyed, you peek over at the caller ID, your boyfriend's name displayed beside his picture. 
You wanted to talk to him - to hear his voice, but you knew your wavering tone would give away your dismal state. So, you let his call go to voicemail, like all his others from this evening. 
Feeling guilt-ridden for declining his calls, you pick up your phone, deciding to send him a text instead. But when you unlock your phone, you see a pile of missed messages from Bucky, each text growing more and more worried at your sudden disappearance - his last one reading, 'I'll be over in 10' which was nearly ten minutes ago. 
You exhale in frustration, cursing yourself as you wipe your eyes - carefully blotting the sensitive skin with one hand, the other typing a response. You decided on a small, white lie, replying, 'sorry, I was sleeping.'
The second your thumb presses send, you hear a frantic string of taps on your door - the repeated sound of knuckles knocking. You take a moment to situate yourself before making your way to your front entrance, socked feet paddling over to answer. 
You peek through the peephole, your boyfriend on the other side - visibly distressed as he rakes through the front strands of his hair. You reach for the handle, unlocking the door with an expression you were sure to be disgrace. "I'm so sorry. I was in—" you start.
"Are you okay? You didn't answer. I got worried— I thought something happened," Bucky cuts you off, walking past you and stepping into your apartment.
You close the door behind him, turning to meet his frazzled features. "I know, I know. I'm really sorry. My phone was on silent, and I was in bed. I didn't see anything til just now," you confess, sharing parts of the truth.
He deeply exhales, gaze softening as he looks over you. He pauses, seeming like he's analysing you, eyes honing in on your evading ones. "What's wrong?" 
You knew your gag would be up sooner or later, but you didn't expect it to be this soon. Sometimes, it was like your boyfriend knew things about you before you even did yourself - as though you failed to remember who you were talking to.
"Nothing," you smile, kissing his cheek as you step past him. "Just tired— didn't sleep properly."
"Yeah?" he hums, not quite believing your half-truths. He kicks off his boots and follows you into your room, soft footsteps behind you like a shadow. "How was your day?" he asks, talking like he's scoping you out.
You sit on the foot of your bed, shrugging at him dismissingly. "Same old. How was yours?"
He steps towards you, eyes darting around your room before focusing on you - everything becoming more apparent. "Fine. Good," he nods, softly groaning as he takes a crouch in front of you, kneeling on the floor between your legs so he's level with you. "What's wrong? What's going on?" he asks, eyes following you with the movement of his head, brows narrowing.
"Nothing," you reply, speaking faintly. Responding minimally in case your voice were to break.
"No?" he questions, placing a delicate hand over your knee - the palm emitting warmth onto your skin through the fabric of your pyjamas.
You shake your head, bottom lip beginning to waver under his attention. 
"Then what's on your mind?" he asks gently, his tone warm and concerned.
"I told you," you avoid his eyes, looking down at your hands on your lap. "Didn't sleep well."
He sighs at your tenacity to push him away, head cocking to the side. He adjusts the stance on his knees, and your hands scramble for him - reaching out and holding onto him as if you were to stop him from leaving. Though only he wasn't leaving - he was just getting more comfortable. 
"I wasn't leaving," he murmurs, slipping his hands into yours, thumb brushing over the back of your hand assuringly. "Did you think I was going to leave you?" he asks, lips lining into a faint frown.
You notice his brows tug upwards in the middle, the tell-tell sign he was beginning to think too hard. "No, I was just— I... don't know."
"Well, I'm not," he responds shortly, speaking like he was being stern with you - tough love. "Now, what's going on with you?" he asks, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring squeeze, the silent act encouraging you. 
You inhale steadily, letting the air fill your lungs. "I haven't been feeling good."
He keeps his eyes on yours, following you. "Okay, why?" he questions shortly, wanting to get to the root of the problem as quickly as possible.
"I've been sad."
"Why?
You shrug. "I just have."
"I need more than that. Why have you been sad?"
"I don't know."
"Why?" he repeats, brows straightening.  
"Because I feel... ugly."
He hesitates, his shoulders slumping at your confession, visibly digesting your words. "Ugly?" he recites, the remark leaving a foul taste on his tongue. "Honey," he lingers, softly shaking his head.
Bucky stills, his forehead creasing with what you perceive to be pity. His mouth opens as though he's going to say something, only for it to snap back shut. He faintly sighs, bringing your hand to his lips. "You know that's not true, right?" he rhetorically asks, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.
You don't say anything, the only reply being a short exhale and an awkward smile.
"Because I think you..." he pauses, kissing another patch into your hand. "Are the prettiest," a slow smile lining his lips - an expression that's now mirroring yours.
It was so simple. Everything Bucky did to reassure you - he did with ease. Just the tiny, loving act instantly melting the tension in your mind. His care for you pushing away any sense of self-doubt.
He peppers another kiss into your hand. And another - littering a short string of them over your wrist. "Don't listen to your brain, okay? She's not always right," he murmurs, expression softening like it was reassuring his words.
"I know," you nod, weakly smiling at him. "Just—"
"Hard. I know," Bucky finishes your sentence, nodding at you understandingly. 
He leans forward and places a soft kiss on the centre of your lips - his own brushing over yours sweetly, the action grounding and comforting. He pulls away first, eyes half-lidded as they glance over you, focusing on the almost pleading look on your face.
Your free hand reaches up to his face, palm enclosing his jaw as you bring him back in for a kiss - lips working over his more urgently than the time before. 
"Thank you," you mumble against his mouth, merely pulling away to show your appreciation. "You're so kind to me."
His grip loosens on your hand, now sliding both up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss - tongue slipping into your mouth willingly. His lips leave yours, trailing a line of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your throat. 
"Always," he murmurs, the short word muffling into your skin. Whispering, "I want to show you just how pretty you are."
A soft whine-like hum vibrates in your throat, the noise accepting his words eagerly. Your hand trails into the short strands of hair at the back of his head, fingers grazing his scalp as you hold him to the crook of your neck. Neck tilting to the side, allowing him more access to you as you reach for his jacket, pushing the fabric off his broad shoulders. 
He presses a final kiss into a patch of your skin and pulls away, looking at your ever-softening features - eyes and brows growing pliant under his attention. His hands slowly roam down to the hem of your t-shirt, fingers hooking under the fabric as they lift, pulling it off your head in a steady, swift motion.
You sit in front of him, chest bare and on display in front of him, letting him take you in - not shying away like you did earlier.
Bucky remains quiet, his eyes fixed on the lewd sight before him, silently storing the image for safekeeping. He brings his hands up towards your tits, cupping under each - holding them in his palms. "So beautiful," he hums, leaning in to place a kiss on the swell below your nipple, giving his attention to each breast.
He rolls them in his strong hands, delicately playing and toying with them, thumbs skimming over your sensitive, hardening nipples, pressing kisses into the skin above. He looks up at you from between your tits, eyes full of love, full of warmth - looking up into your blissed ones with nothing adoration. 
He places a hand over your middle - fingers spread wide as he nudges you backwards, silently and carefully laying you down. Your bare back against the covers with him kneeling on the floor between your spread thighs. 
Barely leaning over you, he reaches up to kiss a trail over your abdomen, lips skimming along your jittering stomach as his fingers slip into the waistband of your underwear and pyjama bottoms. He pulls them down - light tugs as he drags them off your hips and down your thighs, grazing kisses over your now-exposed skin as he undresses your lower half. 
Pulling the fabric off your ankles, he sets it aside, replacing the material that just covered you with kisses - lips grazing up the length of your legs, chaste pecks over your skin like he was worshipping you. The kisses trail higher and higher, reaching up to the crease between your thigh and cunt where he continues the worship, tongue faintly swiping over the skin.
Your hands worm into the roots of his dark hair, fingers locking on the shorts as you hold him to where you want him, guiding him to the needy little spot between your thighs. Chest rising and falling, inner thighs twitching as the anticipation builds in your stomach.
He situates himself in front of your pussy, lips mere inches away as he softly breathes over it - teasing you, his eyes locked on your trembling stomach above. He places a peck on the bottom of your slit. And another. Lining a stripe of kisses up your cunt til he reaches your clit where he skates past the nub, tongue skimming over it.
Hands working over your thighs and to your hips, he adjusts you, placing your legs over his shoulders - letting them drape freely over his blades as he delves in deeper between your thighs, caressing your plushy folds with his lips and tongue. 
You murmur the first half of his name only to be cut off by a whine, the desperate noise catching in your throat when he nips at your clit, his lips wrapping around the mound - tongue skillfully flickering across. 
The noises he muffles are lewd and obscene - gruff, soft groans as he adulates your pussy, pushing his mouth in closer. Your fingers tug tighter on his roots at the consuming feeling, back lifting from the bed in an arch, mindlessly grinding your cunt into his face. 
Within minutes, you become a twitching, moaning pile of mush, coating his chin with your slick as you cum - thighs clamping around Bucky's head between.
He places a final kiss on your pubic bone before pulling away, standing up with a chubbed-up cock in his pants, the area tenting after tasting you. You hold his gaze, looking up at him with blissed eyes and a stir in your stomach - the sight of him making your cunt twitch. 
He wipes the wet from his chin on the back of his hand, briskly drying his stubble before undressing his lower half - tugging down on his combat pants and boxers, letting the material pool around his ankles as his cock springs free. Full length hard and ready, tip leaking precum. 
You scooch up your bed, resting flat with your head on the pillow, eagerly awaiting him. Your thighs instinctively spread as he crawls up the bed and between your legs, slotting his lower half between you - anchoring his weight on his hands either side of your head.
He leans in to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue, the residual creamy slick transferring onto your own. Cock absentmindedly rubbing up against your pussy, the faint friction making you whimper into his mouth.
Your hands hook into the hem of his t-shirt, fingers gripping the bottom of the fabric as you guide it up his back, pulling it over his head as you break the kiss - his chest now bare and up against yours. 
Balancing on his left metal hand, he dips the other between you, reaching for his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base. He gives himself a few short strokes, guiding his head towards you - pushing his tip through the slick of your folds, coating his cock in your wetness before sinking into you.
You take him at your own pace, walls fluttering and loosening around his shaft as he eases more of himself into you - your pussy swallowing little bits of him at a time. Your hand paws at his wrist placed on your hip, fingers enveloping around the thickness, silently pleading and begging him to get closer.
He looks down at the lewd sight of you spread out in front of him: your brows knitted, eyes soft, lips bitten - natural, unadulterated beauty all desperate and malleable for him. He notices the bliss cloud in your eyes and gives your glistening, stuffed pussy a final once over before hovering back over you, chest lingering above yours. 
His lips skim over your jaw, trailing even more kisses down the side of your throat, giving you easing, reassuring pecks as he slips more of his cock into you - distracting you from the dull ache. 
"You are so beautiful," he whispers into your skin, sealing the compliment with a kiss. "You really are," he adds, pressing kisses into your shoulder. "I don't know how you don't see it."
You bend at the knee, holding it at his side - the new angle opening your hips wider, allowing that last bit of his cock to slide in, head hitting at the hilt. You keep him snug to you, arms lazily wrapped around his neck, your other leg entangling with his as your lips shadow each other. 
The moonlit room fills with soft, wet clicking - the sound of your pussy and sticky skin hitting cuts through the bliss-filled noises that slip past both of your lips, lewd noises surrounding you in the dark.
Bucky pulls his forehead from the crook of your neck to look down at you, eyes hinting at something - like his mind was temporarily elsewhere.
"Earlier," he starts, his voice hoarse as his hips wind into you, cock rubbing your walls so nicely. "When you said that thing," he adds, following your eyes when they bashfully divert away. "You tell me when you feel like that... I'd be happy to remind you just how pretty you are."
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a/n. I had an idea for myself, what?? and my first full fic in almost a year??
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brenwritesss · 7 days
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Tru Fru part 5
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Paige Bueckers x reader
Summary: You miss your girlfriend too much, and she's completely whipped for you.
Warnings: smut and language
a/n: the final part of the Tru Fru series!! Have fun!!
It’s been seven months since you and Paige had made your relationship official and life couldn’t be any better. You loved waking up to her beautiful face every morning, going to every one of her home games at UConn, kissing her during the sunset, but most of all your favorite part was being loved by her. She spoiled you as if you were the only girl in her world. Every week followed the same routine: flowers, gifts, date nights, cuddles in bed, and sex. It was almost too good to be true. 
However, with the end of the semester approaching, that came with too much homework and studying, and not enough time. Being a STEM major was tough work, especially when all you wanted to do was spend the time you dedicated to your work on your girlfriend instead. What made matters worse was that Paige was away for a game, and the amount of phone calls, texts, and FaceTimes didn’t lessen the miserable feeling of missing her at all. Not to mention, with all the stress you had been having throughout the past week, not having her with you to release that tension and stress was beginning to show. 
You were sitting at your desk, so deep into your homework that you almost didn’t notice your phone ringing. You pick it up, Paige’s caller ID flashing across the screen. You couldn’t help the small frown that crept onto your face as you answered. “Hey.”
Paige’s voice that always soothed you came through your speakers. “Hey baby, I’m not interrupting anything right?”
You shook your head as if she was in the room with you. “No you’re not.”
“Ight, chill. You haven’t been responding to my texts all day so I got worried. Everything okay?” You could hear the genuine concern laced in her voice and it tugged at your heart. You didn’t mean to not respond, but with all the work you were doing and missing her, you kept pushing it off, not wanting her to see how much her being away was affecting you.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve been studying all day that I haven’t really been on my phone.” That wasn’t a total lie.
“I miss you,” she paused. “Well, I always miss you so I bet you already knew that.”
You wanted to laugh but knowing that she missed you just as badly as you did made you want to break down. “I miss you too.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked you. In the seven months you had been dating, Paige had instantly learned how to read you, even when she wasn’t near you. 
“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. “Why?”
“Y/n, you’re my girlfriend. You think I can’t tell when you’re lying? Talk to me, princess.” And this was the reason you fell in love with her. How she cared about you was unlike anything else you had ever experienced.
“I just…” you trailed off, debating if you actually wanted to tell her what had you upset. “I’m really stressed out.”
“With finals?” It was like she read your mind. Almost.
“Yeah.”
“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you that you got it in the bag,” she reassures you. “You’re the smartest girl I know. Not to mention the hottest.”
Thank God she wasn’t here to witness the blushing mess you had just turned into. You let out a small, breathless laugh. “Thank you.”
“But seriously, you’re putting way too much pressure on yourself. And I know this because I did the same thing when I was training, so I get it. But it’s not gonna help you," she paused and you could hear her take in a deep breath. "God, I wish I could hold you right now.” It was almost like she said that last part to herself and it made your heart jump.
“Yeah, I wish that too. I know I shouldn’t be doing too much, I just can’t help it. You’re not even here so I’m bored.” And that was when you heard her smug, deep laugh.
“Babe,” she says into the phone. “Don’t boost my ego like that.”
“Shut up.”
“Tell me how much you miss me.”
You sigh, only causing her to laugh more. “I miss you. A lot.”
“Yeah?” she asked you and you could just picture that hot smile on her face. “How much?”
“Too much,” you whispered into your phone.
“Don’t lie to me like that.”
“Okay, fine. I hate that I’m feeding your ego like this but I’m miserable without you.” You braced yourself for her reaction to your words.
“There it is,” she says while laughing. “It’s almost like I was expecting that answer.”
You roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”
“Fuck off? Hell no. Fuck you? Every damn day for the rest of my fucking life.” You’d be lying if you denied that Paige saying that did things to you.
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why? Because it’ll get you all wet?” 
“Paige Bueckers, what the fuck is wrong with you?” And you stood by what you said. Paige knew exactly how she was making you feel because she had made you feel it almost every day for the past seven months.
“Answer a question for me baby.” You replied with a soft “hm”, telling her to continue. “Is one of the reasons that you’ve been missing me so much because you’re horny?”
You froze. Damn, she knew you well. “Maybe.”
“I fucking knew it. You’re horny. Babe, I’m making you wet right now aren’t I?” She spoke to you in that hot, soothing voice that just made you melt every time you heard it.
“Talking like that, what do you expect?”
“Send me a picture of that pretty pussy for me real quick. I need to see something,” she ordered. And as she had expected, you did just what she had asked because a few minutes later, you sent her a photo of your pussy, all wet for her. Did it take you a few tries to get the angle right? Yes. Did Paige need to know that? Hell fucking no.
Paige, still on the phone when the photo was sent, sighs heavily through the mic. You just knew she was staring at that picture. A few seconds passed before she sighed again, “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Wait what?” That girl was states away and was not expected back for another three days. What the hell did she mean by that?
“I don’t think your pussy can go three more days without some attention. I’ll be at your place by midnight, love you baby.” And with that, she hangs up on you.
It was in that moment that you knew Paige Bueckers was insanely whipped for you.
So naturally, you did what any other sane, sex-deprived college student who was missing her girlfriend would do and sent her another picture. Only this time, you made sure it was extra wet. Just how she liked it.
Paige ❤️
All wet for me
Better be laid out all pretty for me
Yeah, that did it. If it weren’t for the fact that you knew she would be here soon, you would have jumped in bed and gone to town. But Paige wants you all wet and pretty for her. And who were you to argue?
You felt as if you had lived through a hundred years before you heard a knock on your door. You wasted no time in almost running across your living room to the front door, grabbing the knob, and opening the door to reveal a tall and muscular Paige leaning against the doorframe, hands in her pocket. She lifted her eyes up from the floor and they landed on you, taking in the sight of you in your bra and her shorts. She pushed herself away from the doorframe and stepped closer to you. “Told you I’d be here in a few hours.”
Your throat went dry and you suddenly lost the ability to speak. Although, you figured that was only one of many times that would happen tonight. Paige walked in and shut the door behind her, not even waiting another second to wrap her big hands around you. The contact you had missed so much this week was finally back again and it made your heart flutter. 
Her arms tightened around your waist, gently picking you up as you wrapped your legs around her waist. “Missed you so much.”
“From those pictures, I could tell,” she says as her hands move to your ass to support you. She kisses your cheek, walking to your room. “I missed you too.”
“Need you right now.” Your words set a fire inside Paige as she practically threw you on your bed, ripping her shorts off you. Her hands roamed all over your body and that was when you believed that your body was created to fit her hands. It just fits so well.
“Fuck baby,” she whispered in your ear. “You have no idea how bad it was on that plane, looking at your pussy and not being able to touch her.”
“Just my pussy?” you asked her in the most innocent way possible with a look that made her shiver against you. You tugged at her shirt, pulling it off her with ease.
She took it from your hands and tossed it to the side. “Every damn part of you.” That was all she said before she devoured your tongue, sucking it in between her lips and creating a slobbery, wet mess between your mouths. You wanted to get her kisses tattooed on you, never forgetting them for the rest of your life.
Her hand brushes up your stomach, palming your breast and that’s when you feel a small surge of pleasure coarse through your body and straight to your core. She brings her mouth toward your right breast, cupping it in her hand as she gently rolls her tongue over your nipple. You moaned at the sudden rupture of heat from her tongue, raking your hands through her hair. She spits on it, licking it all up again. “Only mine to see and suck like this.”
“Mhm,” you breathe out, tightening your grip on her hair. “Only yours.”
She licks a line all the way up from your tits to your jaw, latching her mouth back onto yours. One of her hands steadies herself on the bed while the other grabs your leg and hooks it over her waist. Using that same hand, she rubs it up and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps after each trail. You tighten your leg around her waist which earns you a small moan that you could almost feel deep in the back of your throat. 
“Paige baby, please,” you whisper into her mouth. She lets go of your lips, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck. 
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Need you to fuck me,” you say bluntly. It was almost as if you could hear the low growl coming from her throat as it vibrated through your bones.
Her hand moved from rubbing your thigh to caressing your inner thigh, inching up higher and higher. The way she caressed your thighs perfectly made you whine out for more as she demolished your collarbones and neck. Her fingers moved toward your pretty pussy lips, practically feeling your arousal. She pulled away from your neck and looked down towards her fingers, admiring the sight below her. You whimpered at the feeling of her fingers on you, just teasing you. “Baby please.”
Paige goes back to kissing your neck, nipping at your skin occasionally. “Just relax, gonna get you so wet for me.”
She spends the next few minutes teasing you; circling your clit a few times then applying pressure as she slid her fingers down to your entrance, drawing an invisible circle around it, then dragging her fingers back up to your clit only to repeat the same pattern again. She had you a whimpering mess, grabbing at her back and her hair, lightly pulling at it. 
“Fuck, P,” you whined.
“Keep those beautiful words coming,” she says as she finally enters two fingers into your tight hole. You gasp as your grip on her shoulders tightens. You try to clench your legs together but she moves her knee in between them to keep them apart. And of course, knowing Paige, she had to say something about it too. “Don’t even think about it, princess.”
Her fingers thrust in and out and you could hear just how wet you were becoming. And to Paige, that was music to her ears almost as much as your moans were. And God, did you fucking love that sound of her fingers inside your cunt. “Paige, oh my–”
“Just like that,” she said, speeding up her movements which earned her another pornographic moan from you. She nodded at you. “Yeah, just like that.”
“That’s so fucking good, mmm,” you moaned, making direct eye contact with her. You were becoming soaked now and Paige knew that with a few more thrusts of her fingers, you’d be cumming onto her. And although seeing you cum on her fingers was one of her favorite things ever, she needed it to be better. To remind you how she was the only person who could even touch you like this. So she pulled out her fingers which resulted in an almost suctioning sound and stuck them into your mouth. “Taste yourself, pretty girl.”
You wasted no time in licking her fingers clean, even though you were slightly annoyed at the fact that she pulled them out before you could cum. “What are you doing?”
Paige smirked at you. “You tell me how much you miss me, I see your pussy, and I fly all the way over here, and you think I’m not gonna take my time and fuck the shit out of you?”
That’s when you knew you shouldn’t even think about making plans tomorrow. Or the next day after that. And maybe the day after that too. Before you could even say anything, she slides a box out from under your bed and pats your leg. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right back. And I better not see your hands anywhere near your pussy when I get back.” She walks into the bathroom with the box.
You felt as if you couldn’t even function properly with your body almost shaking and feeling as if you were out of breath. You wait a couple minutes, starting to grow impatient trying to wait for Paige. Finally, she emerges from the bathroom, a nice, long, and thick strap attached to her waist. You widened your eyes at the sight of her just as you did every time you saw her wear it. Every time, you always questioned yourself as to whether or not you’d be able to take it. But Paige always made sure you knew that you could take it perfectly every time.
She walks up to you and uses her hands to push your legs farther apart. You quiver underneath her touch. She uses two fingers and slides them between your folds, letting them become coated in your juices. She then pulls her hand away and rubs it on her purple dick. The purple, plastic dick she used to fuck you so many times. Once her fingers transferred your coating onto the strap, she then ran it down your folds like she had just done with her fingers. You felt as if you could cum just from that and you wanted nothing more than to flip Paige onto her back and ride her.
“Tell me how much you missed this,” Paige orders you, aligning it against your entrance. You gasped at the movement and gripped onto the bedsheets.
“I–” you breathe out as she begins pushing it inside you. “Fuck.”
“Keep telling me,” she says, not pushing it in all the way.
“I needed you to–”
Your gasps stop you from talking as she begins to sink into you even more. You gather up your strength to moan out, “fuck me like this so badly.”
Paige finally lets the strap sink deep inside you. Your moans filled the air of your room and Paige watched you in awe. She admired everything about you in this state: the way your eyes lingered on her, the way your knuckles turned white from gripping the bedsheets and the way your back arched from taking it.
Paige began slowly thrusting, putting her hands on either side of your waist to gain more control while she thrusted it inside you. You were a moaning mess at this point and you didn’t know where to put your hands. You continuously moved them from the bedsheets to the pillow under your head, to the headboard. 
Paige took your moans as permission to increase her speed. As she moved faster against you, she gripped your hips harder. “Just like that. Taking me like a good girl.”
You could feel yourself getting more slick as she slid inside you every second. And you knew that at any point you were about to cum from her. Paige moved one of her hands from your hip to your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and then bringing her hand back to your hip. 
Paige can tell you’re about to cum and that’s when she not only continues to speed up, but begins to thrust a bit harder, hitting the spot that she knew would make you come undone right on her. “Can’t take it anymore,” you whine out just as she begins hitting that spot deep within you earning more loud moans.
“Yes you can baby, you always do,” Paige says as soothing as she could. “Now let me see that pretty pussy cum.”
And that combined with how deep she was hitting was all you needed to release. You cum right onto Paige’s dick as the knot in your stomach breaks. You almost cried out at the sensation. Paige rubbed circles on your hips and helped you ride out your high like she did every time. “Just like that,” she cooed.
You go numb on the mattress, holding your breath as Paige pulls out of you. You spend the next few minutes trying to regain control of your breathing and let your heart beat get back to normal as Paige takes off the strap. You almost could still feel her inside you and she’d never let you forget it. 
Finally, you gather the strength to speak, “You felt so good.”
Paige laughs as she slides the box underneath your bed. “You always take it like a princess.”
You laugh as your body is still trying to recover from being completely wrecked just a few minutes ago. Paige climbs into your bed, lying down beside you and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you closer to her. You lay your head on her chest, tracing random shapes on her abs. “I love you,” you whisper to her.
She kisses your head and pulls you as close as she can to her. “I love you too, princess.” You’re a smiling mess as you lie with her and enjoy the feeling of being in her arms. That is, until she speaks up, “So, you got any Tru Fru in the freezer?”
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chahnniesroom · 3 months
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some loves
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.
word count: 6.9k
tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic
read it on ao3 | masterlist
a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.
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Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.
He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.
“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”
“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”
“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”
“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”
“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”
“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.
“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”
Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.
There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.
“I’m in,” Chan agrees.
“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”
“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”
“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.
“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.
“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”
Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.
Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.
“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”
“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.
“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”
“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”
“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”
“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.
“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”
They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.
HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.
“Y/n,” Chan breathes.
You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”
Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.
It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.
It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.
Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.
As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.
You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.
“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.
“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.
“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”
Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.
“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”
The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.
The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.
You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.
It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.
Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.
“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”
You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.
“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”
“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”
You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.
“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.
“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.
Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.
Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.
Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.
That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.
In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.
The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.
Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.
Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.
When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.
“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”
Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.
“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.
Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”
“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”
“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”
“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”
“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”
“You didn’t hear what happened?”
“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.
“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”
“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”
“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”
“Please,” Chan pleads.
“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”
It suddenly clicks.
“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”
“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”
“But really, we were never-”
“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”
“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”
“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”
“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”
“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.
“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”
“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”
“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”
“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”
A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.
After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.
“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”
That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.
“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”
This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.
“What happened?” he prods.
“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”
“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.
“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”
“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.
“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”
Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.
“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.
“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.
“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”
“I- I don’t know.”
“What’s your gut feeling?”
“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”
“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”
Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.
“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”
“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”
“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”
As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.
At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.
“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”
Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.
Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.
[Received - 8:04pm]
Channie-oppa~
[Received - 8:04pm]
This is Y/nnie
[Received - 8:05pm]
Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/
[Received - 8:09pm]
But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?
Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.
He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.
[Sent - 8:10pm]
Hey Y/n!
[Sent - 8:11pm]
No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too
[Sent - 8:13pm]
I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ
[Received - 8:13pm]
Gangdong-gu?
[Received - 8:14pm]
Ohh JYPE
[Received - 8:14pm]
My bad, forgot that you guys moved
[Sent - 8:15pm]
Yeahhh
[Sent - 8:15pm]
Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry
[Received - 8:18pm]
Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway
[Sent - 8:18pm]
Wait, really?
[Sent - 8:18pm]
No no no, don’t take the subway
[Sent - 8:18pm]
I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min
[Received - 8:19pm]
Wowow
[Received - 8:19pm]
Private driver?
[Received - 8:20pm]
You’re a real superstar now haha
[Sent - 8:21pm]
alsfjshkafs noooooooo
[Sent - 8:21pm]
It’s just faster
[Sent - 8:21pm]
and safer
[Received - 8:22pm]
I’m not complaining
[Received - 8:22pm]
but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you
[Received - 8:23pm]
If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭
[Sent - 8:24pm]
Knew it
[Sent - 8:25pm]
You’re just using me for my fame
[Received - 8:26pm]
Ah you got me this time
[Received - 8:26pm]
*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks
[Received - 8:27pm]
Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up
[Received - 8:27pm]
Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?
Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.
Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.
[Received - 8:32pm]
?? Speechless that I caught on?
[Received - 8:36pm]
I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped
[Received - 8:40pm]
Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked
[Received - 8:42pm]
It was nice knowing you I guess
When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.
[Sent - 8:53pm]
Sorry, lost track of time
[Sent - 8:53pm]
They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything
[Received - 8:54pm]
Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts
[Received - 8:55pm]
But thanks
[Received - 8:55pm]
Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?
[Received - 8:55pm]
I’m honoured
Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.
“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”
“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”
“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”
“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.
“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”
“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”
“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”
“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”
“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”
“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”
“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”
It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.
“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”
“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”
“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”
“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.
“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.
“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.
“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.
"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."
“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."
“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”
“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”
"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”
"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."
“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”
“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.
“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”
"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.
"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.
"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"
“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.
“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.
“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.
Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.
“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."
You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.
“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”
"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"
"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."
"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."
"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."
Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.
Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.
"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.
"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"
You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.
"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."
At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.
"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."
read it on ao3 | masterlist
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lulunothulu · 22 days
Text
“Picture Proof”
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Summary: when you see there’s been an accident on one of Jake’s missions, you beg him to send you proof he’s alive.
Contents: talks of death, but mainly just worry/anxiety and fluff
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‘Reports have said that there has been significant damage to the pilot and their jet. No names have been given but we will keep this situation updated. This has been…’ ‘Multiple sources have told us that the pilot is at the hospital in critical conditions—’
You stare at the TV screen, eyes going foggy with tears.
There was an accident. A pilot got caught in a bird strike, their jet went down. Jake was supposed to be flying this morning. What if it was him?
Jake is fine. He has to be.
You couldn’t stop the tears from coming. Everything in your heart told you Jake was fine but until you heard from him, you wouldn’t know for sure.
Pulling your phone out, you text: Jake, please text or call me when and if you see this.
Two hours pass and still no word from Jake. You’re shaking at this point, trying to keep yourself from driving to base and walking to his normal hangar. Worry fills the pit of your stomach when you haven’t heard from him another two hours later.
You started praying by the end of those four hours. You weren’t one to pray, but you were now.
“God,” you cry. “Please don’t let it be him. Let him come back to me. Please.”
———
You were pacing now, Jake hadn’t texted or called you back in six hours and your mind was already trying to accept the fact that he might’ve been the pilot that went down.
Heart pounding, hands sweating, and mind racing, you text him again.
Jake, please PLEASE text or call me back when and if you see this. I love you.
Your vision blurs when you see the iPhone blue bubble turn green. Nononono. Please don’t have taken him.
A son chokes through your clenched jaw as you drop to the floor, hands on your temples to hold in some of the sobs. You feel a guttural scream erupting from your chest but you stay silent.
“The navy would’ve sent someone to the house if it was Jake,” you tried to reason. “Jake is fine.”
You smile to yourself, begging yourself to believe it.
“Jake is fine, he’s just busy doing pilot shit.”
You take a deep breath before squeezing your eyes but and nodding softly.
“Jake is—”
The text chime scares you out of finishing that sentence and on your phone screen you see a text from Jake.
Without skipping a beat, you unlock your phone and read his text.
Hi baby, I’m just now seeing this. We were in the air longer because of a flight gone wrong. I love you too.
Relief washes over you and you’re sobbing again. You clutch your phone close to your chest, sobbing even harder when you reread his text to you.
You: Send me proof you’re okay.
It takes a second, but Jake sends you a selfie. He’s in his flight suit and gear, hair unruly and eyes relaxed, mouth slightly apart. Behind him, the huge American flag inside the hangar.
You smile down at his picture and half sob and laugh when he adds:
Still looking hot as ever, aren’t I? ;)
When you don’t respond right away, his caller ID fills your screen. You answer and hiccup, “Hello?”
“Darlin’,” he drawls. “I’m so glad to hear your voice.”
“You’re glad?” You laugh, wiping your tears away. “I was terrified it was you that got caught in that bird strike. When you didn’t call or text me…”
“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I couldn’t text you right away because Mav wanted everyone accounted for and then Cyclone wanted to have an emergency formation…it was a mess. I only now just got released.”
“Okay,” you say, choking back a sob.
“Darlin’?” Jake says in the other side of the phone. “Y/N, talk to me.”
“I’m just glad you’re alright,” you croak. “I’m so fucking glad you’re alright.”
“I am too,” he tells you. “I’ll be home in a few minutes, okay? We can cuddle and watch some of your girly movies tonight.”
You sniffle and nod. “Okay baby.”
“Okay,” he says, you can practically hear him smile. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“Now, as a man who may have gotten hurt today, you better take that back.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Never.”
Short and sweet but still effective 🥹
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roosterforme · 19 days
Note
Omg I cant stop wondering about the daggers meeting Mr. Right Now’s girl! How do you think that would go?
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Ohhhh, yes. I think Jake would be more nervous than Darlin' would about them meeting her. Since he can't take her to the bar yet, I think they would meet her at a party at his bestie Javy's place. Of course he's been telling Javy for weeks that he met this girl and he's so into her and she agreed to be his girlfriend. And Javy keeps telling him to bring her to the Hard Deck to meet everyone, but Jake never does.... so Javy would be surprised when Jake says he's bringing his girlfriend to the party.
Jake was sweating. Javy told him at work yesterday that he couldn't wait to meet this mystery girlfriend. But right now, even with some makeup and a new dress, you looked young. Like decidedly younger than all of his friends. He ran his hand over his face as he parked at Javy's.
"Let's go," you said, pulling on his hand. "I can't wait to officially meet them. I only know what Phoenix and Rooster look like from the night we met," you added with a smirk.
"Come here," Jake growled, tugging you closer to him. "Need to set some ground rules." He ran one rough palm around to the back of your neck and said, "I think you should keep your mission at the bar and your fake ID between us."
"I agree," you told him. "I won't say a word about how I originally tried to get Rooster to take me home for the night." Jake narrowed his eyes as you laughed. "Chill. I won't say anything about it!"
Now Jake just prayed his friends weren't obnoxious to you. They weren't actually too bad. Javy pulled him aside to say, "Jake... she's fucking cute as hell man, but how old is she?"
"She's twenty. She's in college."
Then he heard Nat ask you if you were aware that Jake was practically geriatric compared to you, but you responded to her by saying, "I know, but for some reason I fell in love with him. So if I have to change his hearing aid batteries in a few years, so be it." Then you and she laughed.
Perhaps the worst part was the way Bradley gave you a long, hard once over before winking at Jake. But even that didn't bug him too much when the two of you were back at his place that night, snuggled in bed.
"Did you have fun?" he asked.
"Yeah," you replied as he wrapped his arm around you.
He braced himself for the answer to his next question. "What did you think about Rooster after actually having a conversation with him?"
"Hmmm," you hummed. "He was nice. He's handsome, too. Pretty eyes. Tall. I can see why Kylie would give him a solid endorsement." Jake bristled, but you continued. "I like your green eyes better though. And I like how sweet you are. And how we're on lesson number thirty-eight with no signs of stopping."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, Jake. If I'm going to be in love with a very old man, I want it to be you."
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huellitaa · 8 months
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⋅˚₊‧ ୨ feeling uncomfy in ur own skin
ok so this is something ive been struggling with for years. like i wake up some days and just feel Eugh way more than id like to. SO i decided i'd make a little guide on this! for me and for you 🩷✨
──★ ˙ ̟🎀 reasons why we could be feeling uncomfortable with ourselves and who we are
♡ having a shitty mental diet and consuming media and things that make you feel bad abt urself
♡ being in an environment where we're constantly being judged or put down, even over the most basic things
♡ hanging around negative people or negative places
♡ not giving urself enough credit for ur own achievements and accomplishments
♡ changing urself constantly for others and not having a clear sense of self to hold on to
♡ not having boundaries on how you and others treat you
♡ staying stagnant in the same place in your life and not changing (🎀🗒️also read: get comfy being uncomfy ♡)
♡ not paying enough attention to yourself and avoiding your genuine thoughts, feelings and emotions
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🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. be gentle with yourself!
pleasepleaseplease its ok to have bad days its ok to not feel great every day. treat yourself as you would someone you love. if you just aren't feeling good today, then you aren't feeling good! honour that and respect that and deal with that accordingly. even if you are uncomfortable with yourself right now or you don't like yourself right now, please try and treat yourself with care regardless, because no matter what stage you are in in your life right now you are and always will be the most important person in ur life, so TREAT URSELF LIKE IT🫶💖
🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. inspiration, not comparison!
i know its often told not to go looking at people who are ahead of you in these times but hear me out. i think looking at and observing people you admire who are further ahead of you is very motivating to build yourself up and *become more like them* in your own way. you look up to them because of ___? what can you do to become your own version of that? thinking like this gets me more inspired to just get out of bed because i want to be more like them.
two words for this one - NO. COMPARISON. gaining inspiration from others to better yourself and comparing yourself to others are two completely different things. 🫶 (shameless self promo, but i have a post on this here! 🩷✨)
🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. analysis: detective work chapter!
journal and think and think to urself why u might feel like this or what caused this. when did it start? has anything happened lately that may have caused this? how does it feel, in depth? what can you do to combat this? how can you make it through the day & make it so you do even better tomorrow?
🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. channeling the mindset!
back to my point on our idols, thinking like them & thinking what they'd do in this situation helps me a lot. personally one of my idols is ada lovelace so whenever im really tired and unmotivated or insecure on my abilities or appearance or anything else i think to myself "what would she do?" and 9 times out of 10 im up at my desk in my cutest outfit hard at work. this is def one of my favourite points and something i use on the daily for like literally everything and 100% recommend 🩷✨
🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. what would i do?
similarly, ask urself what the best version of yourself or the version of urself youre working towards would do in this situation. be your own inspiration. be ur own muse. would they stay in bed and rot all day? if the answer is no then ur up. out. immediately. ask urself what they would do. if ur feeling drained, would they take a day off to do some self care and recharge? if ur feeling sad, would they be gentle with themselves and let themselves feel sad for a little while & try to work to the root of the problem?
🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. understanding yourself!
make a list of the things that make you the happiest and most comfortable & productive and the things that make you the unhappiest and the opposite of those things. i mentioned this in my recharge day post, but figuring out these will help you find out which negative behaviours or habits are lowering ur vibrations and making u feel like this, and help u to engage more in the things that make you happy with yourself and everything around you 💗✨
🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. pay attention!
pay close attention to ur internal landscape and your self talk throughout the day. note down every little thing you notice, even if you think it won't be helpful; for example, do you find yourself indulging in negative talk abt urself, negative talk abt others, constantly being pessimistic and expecting the worst, indulging in judgement and criticism of urself and everyone around you, getting distracted easily, and so on.
🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. what would i do, part 2
like i mentioned earlier, you should be your own inspiration. you should be your own muse. as much as it's nice to have idols, when ur trying to change something about urself and adjust and improve ur own behaviours, you should be mainly focusing on what you want to achieve by changing said behaviours. do you know who you're working towards being? do you know how you want to feel? do you know what you are changing these things you feel into? think about whether or not the person you are now lines up with the person you want to be in all aspects of ur life. if you feel like you aren't even trying to meet these standards then of course ur gonna feel bad about urself. of course don't be too hard on urself, but keep this in mind. 💓✨
finally, remember that these things are temporary and it wont be like this forever. ur beautiful and perfect no matter what and in these times u gotta show up for yourself even more and never give up! i believe in u 🫶🩷
all my love 💗💬✨🎀
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manikas-whims · 4 months
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how Xavier from Love and Deepspace will react when he finds out you're on your period..
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Xavier realizes its the first time you haven't arrived at work on time. It concerns him deeply and he decides to call you on the phone.
You pick up the phone from the nightstand, receive the call and speak groggily due to the ache in your limbs.
“Xa..vier? What is it?”
On the other end, his eyes narrow in concern. “You don’t sound alright.”
“Ohhh its just..my stomach and thighs ache.. especially thighs..” Your eyes are watery as you speak. All this ache is making it harder for you to even have a simple phone conversation.
“But I'm okay..its just that time of the month, you know!” You attempt to make your best imitation of a chuckle to ensure everything is good.
Yet the line has already been disconnected.
At the workspace, Jenna watches Xavier already pulling on his white leather jacket and running out of the building.
[minutes later]
You hear your phone buzz again. Without even bothering to check the caller ID, you answer it with slight annoyance. “Who’s speaking!?”
The voice on the other end is familiar and calm as ever. Not reacting negatively to your words, Xavier says. “It’s me. I'm here at your place. Do you think you can open the door?”
You know he's only trying to be kind but you grumble anyways. You can't help it. “Xavier I’m not that weak! No girl is!”
You don't bother changing clothes and remain in your oversized shirt as it's more comfortable that way. And with little difficulty and a lot of ache in your body, you open the door to prove your point, staring up at him with your weary eyes.
He simply shuts the door as he walks in and hands you a package. “I bought some pads, and heat packs for your belly. Just in case you needed extra.”
You blink slowly, all the rage ignited by your period slowly fading in the face of his honesty.
“Come on, ” He beckons, heading upstairs towards your bedroom. “Or would you prefer I carry you?”
Mortified at the idea of being treated like a little girl, you stomp after him back to your room.
There, he guides you to lay down and sits at the edge of the bed, by your legs.
“Rest. I’ll be here for you. Always.”
Usually you would've tried teasing him but you don't wanna strain your body by speaking anymore. So you simply give in to the tempting softness of the mattress and close your eyes.
A moment later, you feel something glide along your leg, all the way up to your thigh before gently yet firmly grasping it.
Your face heats up, flushing a light shade of pink as you realize they're fingers. The same long fingers which you've seen Xavier wrap around his sword during your missions together.
Now for some reason, those very same fingers are holding your thigh. You feel the muscles in your leg tensing. So does he, and looks at you.
“Xavier you— what are you doing?” You squeak out, a hand over your eyes cause its just too embarrassing to look directly at him.
His hand doesn't even budge. “I’ve heard that during menses, women's thighs ache a lot. I was just trying to give yours’ a massage.”
Then he raises a brow, a lopsided smile curving upon his lips. “What did you think I was up to?”
“Ehhh!!” You shake your head, far more embarrassed now (if that was even possible).
“Nothing! I was just shocked when you suddenly touched me.”
He nods in understanding. “Pardon me for not asking permission before touching you.”
Now you shake your head even more, the aching muscles completely forgotten due to how embarrassed you feel for even daring to imagine something naughty at such a time.
“It's okay.” You mumble softly. “And I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”
He responds with a proper smile.
Then, his fingers begin pressing into your thigh, gently massaging along the entire leg.
“Now rest.” He commands and you close your eyes for there's no reason to deny his aid. You feel the tense muscles in your legs gradually relaxing, his care lulling you into a state of slumber.
And just as you feel sleep blessing your form, you mumble. “Xavier?”
“Mm?” He replies.
“Thanks for this. And for coming to see me.”
“No problem.”
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Its been a while since I wrote any Character x Reader HCs so please bear with my errors. i love feedback so don't hesitate!
AND THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
Rafayel and Zayne version coming soon!
» MASTERLIST «
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bleedingoptimism · 11 months
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Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.
But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.
He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…
But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 
They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.
The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.
‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’
‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.
“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  
“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.
“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 
“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 
“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.
But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 
Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”
Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.
But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.
Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,
“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”
Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.
And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.
Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.
Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.
He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.
Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”
He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,
“Hey,”
“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.
‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.
“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 
“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.
Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.
🧸
A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 
Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.
Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.
He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 
He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.
And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.
However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.
But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 
All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.
The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’
Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.
“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.
‘Yes’
“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.
“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 
They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 
“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.
Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.
God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.
Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.
But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.
After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.
Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”
Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.
“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.
He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.
“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”
Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”
Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.
He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’
Fuck Tommy.
He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.
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luna0713hunter · 5 months
Text
Wonder If She Loves Me
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⊰⊹its 3 in the morning and Izana misses you.
˙❥˙ warnings : breakup,makeup, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending
♫♪ music : Wonder if she loves me By JVKE
a/n : maybe this got too angst...oops? Hope you enjoy it tho, darling @milky-aeons
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It's 3 in the morning and Izana can't sleep.
He's been staring at his ceiling for the past 2 hours or so (honestly he has lost the track of time),and something interesting about the cracks on the walls has his eyes wondering over to them every five minutes. his throat is slightly aching, but he cant really bring himself to get up and have a glass of water;so he just lays there,with his violet eyes wide open and his hands clamps over his chest. Usually,on these kind of nights,he would busy himself scrolling through his phone.
Not tonight though.
It's been a whole week since Izana had checked his phone; he's sure it's death already,but that's for the best. He doesn't need to look at his phone because there are only pictures of you greeting him.
He doesn't need a reminder of you.
But as time goes by,and the clock keeps ticking,Izana lets out a loud groan and pulls his pillow from under his head,and pushes it against his face;he desperately tries to stop himself from reaching out for his phone. To unlock it and find your contact.
To push a single button and call you, but he cant.
Because Izana is too much of a burden,and he knows that you deserve way better. You,who has the heart of gold,smile brighter than the sun,and gods above,your eyes-
Izana misses you. But he can't do anything about it;after all,he was the one who pushed you away. He was the one who suggested you two take a break. And like a coward he is,he just holed up inside his house for a week,not bothering to go outside or talk to anyone. But as each minute goes by, Izana's eye twitches more-
He reaches over and takes his phone.
Its dead,as expected;and he has to wait until the screen is lightened up again when he plugs it in. There are lots of missed calls and texts from his friends,and its a wonder that none of them have brought the door down already. They probably know he's not in the mood and just let him be for awhile. As Izana's scrolling down his texts,his phone vibrates in his hands and upon seeing the ID,he answers it with a sigh.
"What is it,Kakucho-"
"You have some balls to talk like that,Izana. I was about to grab an axe from the storage and knock your door down." Kakucho sounds mad. Izana doesnt understands why, "you've been ignoring our calls and texts all week. You've had all of us worried sick!we didn't know if you were death or alive or-"
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why have you been worried?"
There's silence on the other side,and the Kakucho sighs. Izana can particularly see him pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.
"Stop with that. You know we..." Another pause. "..care about you." Kakucho finishes awkwardly.
And Izana doesnt get that; because all his life,no one's ever cared about him. Not when his own mother abounded him. Not when his older brother died and left him all alone.
And there's you.
Izana didn't know he loved you well pasted your friendship. He always though its just a friendship thing;like how he doesn't mind having Kakucho around. But as time passed by,he understood he didn't just like having you around;he wanted you all to himself. He wanted to call you his;to hold your hand and hear your sweet laughter. To be the reason for your every smile,and protect you just like how he always wished to be protected.
But now you're gone,and its his fault.
"Is this about y/n?" His friend's voice brings him back to the reality.
Because Kakucho could always read him like an open book.
So he rolls over,and lays on his side;his eyes have long adjusted to the darkness,and the faint light coming from the clock on his bedside has him staring at the staring at the small picture frame that's sitted upon it;a picture of you when he had taken you on a ride for the first time. You're grinning so brightly in the picture; your hair is slightly tousled and your cheeks are flushed. The sky is sunny behind you,but your smile is brighter than any star. He stares at the picture until its craved on his mind,and when he closes his eyes,he can see your face behind his eyelids.
"Izana..." Kakucho's voice is softer this time, "call her. You know she loves you."
"I was the one who suggested this. I broke her heart."
"She understands."
"She deserves better." And at last,after a week long of staring aimlessly at the pictures on the wall,Izana finally grits out the thought that hunted his every waking moment and sleep.
Because it was true;you deserved someone better.
That's why Izana did this;why he broke your heart. Why he invited you over to your favorite cafe and when you were laughing about something silly that your friends did,he blurted out those words.
"Let's break up."
And he had given himself a moment to admire you one last time;to see how your face had crumbled,and your pretty smile had suddenly vanished completely. He waited and felt that sickening twisted in his heart;like a knife had dug itself deep in his chest. But he was sure a knife wound would've hurt less than the defeated look on your face.
He hadn't waited for you to ask why; because he couldn't tell you the reason. He couldn't bring himself to tell you how much you mean to him, but you deserve someone who's not so broken and obsessed with revenge.
So Izana had left;had rode home, feeling absolutely nothing. He had turned off his phone,and buried himself under his covers.
It's 3:15 am,and gods above,he misses you.
As if sensing his every thought, Kakucho breaks the heavy silence.
"Call her,Izana." And with that,he hangs up.
Izana listens to the silence before opening his eyes once again. He stares at the too bright screen of his phone,but he's just lost in the picture of the two of you as his wallpaper. The smiling face of his own face feels alien,but your blinding one is all too familiar.
The picture is months old,his favorite one yet,but it feels like he'd taken it yesterday.
The day he'd asked you to be his girlfriend,he had promised you he'll always protect you. You had laughed,called him your hero with a cheeky grin,and kissed him softly.
He had promised you to be a better man in his heart,but he was always good at breaking his promises.
But now,as he stares at your contact,and the clock shows 3:30 am,his finger hovers over the 'call' button;he knows you're sleeping. You dont have any reason to dwell over someone like him. Because he's a rotten soul,and he knows it fully well. But he can hear your voice telling him he's wrong;that you love him no matter what. He can see you frown,your beautiful eyes shining sadly as you cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead.
He can still feel the ghost of your lips on his skin.
Izana sighs and closes his eyes;he drops the phone on the mattress beside his head,the screen laying down. Like this,he can't see your smile on on his phone. Like this,blinded by the light of his phone,he can't momentarily see the picture frame on his bedside.
Like this,he can pretend you never existed;that he was all alone since day one.
But that's impossible. Stupid even; because the day you entered his life with your smile and understanding eyes,Izana hasn't been alone ever since. And now that you're gone, there's a hole in his heart;right in the middle of it where you belonged. No, that's not right.
There's a hole where his heart used to be,and the day he left you in that cafe,he clawed his heart out and left it with you there.
There's a hole in izana's chest that he knows will never be filled.
His room is quiet, eerily so. So when his phone starts vibrating right next to his face,his eyes snap open.
He's ready to tell Kakucho off;that he doesn't need to call you and ruin your life any further. He's ready to yell at his only friend,and then shut off his phone and never turn it back on again.
But when he turns his phone over and is ready to press the 'answer',he sees the ID.
Your name, along with the heart emojis you'd insisted he put beside it,makes him stare at the too bright screen until his eyes are burning.
Its almost 4 in the morning. There's no way you're calling him.
Maybe its just a dream;he hasn't slept well these past few days,always tossing and turning until the dawn. Maybe he'd fallen asleep the minute Kakucho had hang up. He's sure he's dreaming, because you're supposed to forget all about him;to move on with your life and forget someone as rotten as him.
Izana's sure he's dreaming.
He presses the 'answer' button.
There's a moment where neither of you say anything;he can hear the sound of your trembling breathing,and he closes his eyes. It must be a dream;his worst nightmares. That you always call,but doesn't say anything and he has to suffer through it knowing you will never talk to him ever again.
"... Izana?"
His eyes snap open.
"Iza...?are you there?"
And Izana doesn't know what to say; this isnt like any dream or nightmare he ever had. Usually, in his dreams,he watches you suffer because of his selfishness;cryin, bleeding.
Dying.
But now,as he hears your soft and gentle voice (always so caring with him),he knows he's not dreaming.
That its 3:47 am,and you've actually called him.
"Yeah," he chokes out, "yeah, I'm here."
At that,you let a shaky exhale and grow quiet.
"I-... I'm sorry I called at this hour.you were probably sleeping."
"I wasn't."
"You.. weren't?"
Izana laughs breathlessly. Bitterly.
"No,i wasn't." His fingers play with a loose thread on his sheet, "why..."
"I never got the chance to ask why, Iza." Your voice sounds broken,hurt. Izana wants to rip his heart out;maybe bleeding hurt less than hearing your broken tone, "was it...was it something i did?i wasn't good enough?"
And gods above,he was never so tempted to kill himself in his whole damn life.
Because,how even for a second did you think that you were the problem?
That you were anything but perfect?
"No baby, no" and Izana hates how his voice shakes; his body trembling because he doesn't have the right to act this way when he was the one who broke your heart, "it was never you. How could you think that?"
"But you left," Izana squeezes his eyes when your first sob comes out, "and didn't even tell me why."
And this is his punishment,Izana thinks;to listen to your muffled sobs at 4 in the morning and not being able to reach out. To comfort you,to hold you close and tell you how sorry he is.
Because Izana is a rotten, rotten man. He doesn't deserve someone like you.
"Iza," you say between your sobs, "its been a week and you didn't call. Kakucho-kun said he couldn't get a hold of you. I was worried sick!" When your voice cracks, Izana clenches his fist so tight his knuckles turn white.
Even after a whole week of suddenly breaking up with you and not even bothering to tell you why,you still worry about someone like him.
"Babe, listen to me." His voice is calm,if not slightly shaky, "nothing was ever your fault,i just..."
"Then why?"
You sound so small. Izana can see you burying your face in your pillow;your tears already soaking through the sheets.
"Because," he chokes slightly;voice cracking, "babe...i..."
He takes a deep breath.
"You deserve so much,much better.i couldn't have done that to you."
You're quiet. You don't even breath.
Izana shuts his eyes and sighs.
"Y/n...baby doll,you were everything to me;my whole life,my only reason for living. But..." And Izana doesn't cry,he doesnt. But his eyes burn and his throat is closing up, "but i had to let you go."
"So you gave up on me. On us?"
"I never gave up on you. But i couldn't -"
"Iza," you softly cut him off, because that's all you've ever been with him;too gentle,too caring, "the things that's going on in your head,i cant stop them. But babe...i love you so much."
"I'm broken."
"No one's perfect,darling." You tell him. Ever so patient, "broken or not, you're still my Izana. And i..." He can feel you biting your lips, "still love you too much to let you go.."
And for the first time in the entire week,he thinks he can breath a little better.
"I love you too." He whispers,eyes glued to your pictures frame.
"Then..lets try again?" There's a hesitation in your voice,a slight quiver. "This time,no hiding secrets though,alright?"
And Izana smiles,for the first time in forever and nods.
"Deal." Then he glances at his digital clock, "can i...come over?"
"Its 4:15 am,babe." You sound surprised;like he hasn't done this before. Izana rolls his eyes, "dont you wanna sleep?"
"I cant sleep without you in my arms. Please?"
And when you giggle, although voice slightly hoarse from all the crying,his grin widens more.
"I take that as a yes." But even before saying that, he's already grabbing his jacket and keys,and rushing out the door toward his motorcycle.
"Be careful!!"
And your laughter,makes him let out a laughter on his own;how could he ever,even for a second,think he could let you go?
Oh,he has a lot to makeup for.
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urdepressedslut · 1 year
Text
Off Day
♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky helps comfort you after you’ve had a bad day.
♡ Warnings: fluffy, angst, hurt/comfort, injury to reader, slight self hate, language
A/N: in my perfect world, everyone is still alive because i just can’t handle the truth 🤪
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You ever just have a day where nothing goes right?
It started the moment you had woken up, a random sharp pain shooting up your back. The ache causing you to grimace, the pain already putting you off.
You thought to yourself of the possible reasons for the random ache. You had done your normal workout yesterday, having your usual walk through the city. You grabbed coffee with the boys, then went over to Sarah’s. It was all part of your routine.
Giving yourself time to fully wake up, you tried to brush away the pain— determined to move on with your day.
You had showered, gotten dressed and headed to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast. Everything was going smoothly, until it wasn’t.
The coffee maker was acting up. You stood waiting— unplugging and plugging the machine. All your attempts were useless, as the coffee maker still wasn’t working. You went to put your mug away, when all of a sudden the ceramic slipped from your fingers— crashing to the floor.
You reacted by clenching your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. You were trying not to lose it. Were your fingers slippery? You were never this clumsy.
“Just take deep breaths. Everything’s fine.” You muttered to yourself.
Despite your achey back, you got on your hands and knees— cleaning up the mess you made. What a morning.
After helping Tony and Bruce in the lab, you headed back to your room to get ready for lunch. You had made plans with your friend, Elena. You hadn’t seen her in forever, and you both finally made time to see each other.
You took a quick shower, now staring into your closet— trying to decide on what to wear. You didn’t have time to think too hard on your outfit, because your phone vibrating on your dresser got your attention.
Reading the caller ID, you saw it was Elena.
“Hey girl, what’s up?” You answered, walking back over to the closet— phone to ear.
“Hey so um… I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today.” She told you.
Your face instantly dropped, disappointed that you weren’t going to be able to see her. You had really missed her.
“Oh, okay.”
“Are you mad?” Elena hesitantly asked.
“No, not at all. It’s just been a rough day and I was really looking forward to seeing you.” You assured her, trying to keep your tone light.
You really wanted to say, ‘Hey girl, my days been pretty shit so far— I really fucking miss you.’
You heard her sigh in relief over the phone.
“I’m sorry babes, something came up at work and I can’t push it aside. I already have gotten written up twice.” She told you, and you could practically hear her rolling her eyes.
“Damn Elena, what trouble are you getting into?” You joked.
“Absolutely nothing. Just my fists dealing with some sexist workers, that’s all.” She explained so casually.
“Wow, respect.” You hummed proudly.
“Anyways, let’s catch up soon. For now, I gotta go. Love ya!”
“Bye.” You said solemnly, hanging up.
You sat down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your thumbs. You were frustrated with how everything was turning out for you. You were frustrated with today.
“The universe is punishing you. I’m sure of it.” You mumbled to yourself, slipping on some leggings and a plain red shirt.
You totally skipped the idea of lunch, heading back downstairs to the lab. You just wanted the day to end, so you could start over tomorrow.
The universe was indeed punishing you, as things went from good to bad real quick in the lab.
It was simple really. Tony asked for you to grab a tool. You had blindly stuck your hand in the cabinet, reaching for said tool when all of a sudden you felt a sharp stinging in your hand.
“Ah fuck!” You ripped your hand out, inspecting the damage.
You should’ve been surprised, but how the day had went so far— you didn’t even blink an eye. There was a deep gash in your palm, bleeding freely.
“You okay (Y/n)?” Bruce ran over, worried eyes on you.
You waved him off, trying to hide your hand.
“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just stubbed my finger on something.”
Tony walked up next to Bruce, giving you a look like he knew you were hiding something.
“You sure about that?” Tony pried.
You shook your head, giving them the fakest smile you had.
“Yeah, all good. Excuse me for a second.” You said politely, rushing yourself out of the room.
You weren’t sure what had brought the sudden wave of tears, but you assumed it was all of todays shit finally hitting the fan. Everything that had happened was barely life threatening, and some would say you were being dramatic— but you were mentally fed up with today. All you wanted to do was sleep it off.
You had almost made it to your room, but with your vision blurred with tears— you bumped into a muscular chest.
“Oh, sorry doll— hey, you alright?” Bucky asked you, holding you upright from him nearly knocking you over. He quickly noticed your cheeks glistening from your tears.
Those simple words, ‘You alright?’ triggered something in you, pushing more tears out. You felt pathetic.
“Hey, hey— what’s wrong?” He softly asked again, but he noticed your bloody cradled hand, “Are you hurt?”
You shook your head, trying to show that he didn’t have to worry.
“No, I’m fine really just… Not having the best day.” You muttered out, sniffling— feeling ashamed of yourself.
Here was Bucky standing in front of you. He had gone through so much, went through hell, and he was strong enough to still be standing here today. He was incredible.
Then there was you, upset about having an off day.
Yes— it wasn’t a competition, but when you put it into that perspective it sounds bad.
“Let’s stop the bleeding, okay?” He suggested, still holding onto your arms.
“Seriously, I’m fin—”
You suddenly stopped, feeling him take your non injured hand— pulling you towards your room. At last, you had made it to your space.
“Go sit. I’ll grab some supplies.” He told you, and you were in no state to argue.
You didn’t want to have to ask for help, but a part of you really needed to be taken care of. What better person to comfort you than Bucky, he was your rock.
He was back in less than a minute, gauze and medical tape in hand. He kneeled down in front of your perched form, gently taking your bloody hand. He began to clean it as carefully as he could, while in his mind he wondered what had happened.
“You go on a mission I didn’t know about?” He tried to joke, but couldn’t get you to smile.
You shook your head, keeping your gaze on your hand.
“Just had an accident in the lab.”
He nodded and focused back on your hand. Wiping it clean of red— wrapping it with the gauze. He released your hand, letting you cradle it back to yours chest. He plopped down to your left, his weight on the bed making you lean into him.
“You wanna tell me what’s really going on?” He asked, and you furrowed your brows. “I’ve seen you walk away unbothered with worse injuries.”
You were aware he’d caught your admission that you were having a bad day, and a small part of you had wished he’d forgotten. But Bucky being well… him— of course he remembered.
You stayed silent, brain coming up empty with a good lie.
“This can’t be what’s go you so upset,” He motioned to your hand, to which you cradled further into your chest, “What’s going on doll?”
Before you could stop yourself, you leaned your head on his shoulder. To which he leaned his head against yours, patiently waiting for you to talk.
“Just a bad day.” You whispered finally.
He placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, rubbing his thumb soothingly.
“Did someone say something to you? Was it Tony?” He questioned, waiting for you to drop a name. He’d be gone in a second, ready to tell off whoever was bothering you.
“No one’s bothering me.”
He relaxed instantly, relived that nobody was messing with you. He moved his head off of yours, turning his body to face you. You slowly faced him too, catching his confused expression.
“Like I said, bad day.” You told him with a shrug.
He frowned at your sad expression, wishing he could take all your frustrations away.
“Is there anything I can do?” He asked you.
Your heart swelled at his gesture. He was always so sweet, so understanding. He was patient with you when he shouldn’t be, he was what got you through the hardest days. He meant so much to you.
“Just snuggle with me.” You told him shyly.
“I can do that!” He exclaimed all excited.
He picked you up, placing you to stand next to the bed. You watched with an amused expression as he got the pillows all aligned. He took the blankets, making a circle with them— almost forming some kind of nest. He placed your build-a-bear teddy in the middle, and stepped back with a smile.
“What do you think?”
You shook your head and laughed, body already feeling lighter— the stress fading away.
“I think you’re a huge dork.” You laughed.
He rolled his eyes, slipping off his shoes and jacket. He plopped down in the middle of the bed, the blankets surrounding him.
“Whatever, now get in here.” He demanded playfully.
You followed shortly, crawling into the blanket nest with him. He leaned back, pulling you with him.
“Thanks Buck.” You mumbled into his chest.
He smiled, giving you a gentle squeeze, rubbing his hands over your back.
“Don’t have to thank me. I’m always here for you.” He told you genuinely.
Your heart swelled, chest warm with adoration. How did you get so lucky?
He held you for awhile, both of you talking occasionally. After a bit, you started getting tired, and ended up falling asleep in his arms.
Bucky smiled to himself, gazing at your sleeping form. Your face was relaxed, your body wasn’t tensed up anymore. He couldn’t stand the fact that you’d had a bad day, and he was glad you looked so peaceful now.
You were so glad to have someone like Bucky to help comfort you when you were having an off day.
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menlove · 5 months
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[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]
answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but
oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao
i don't know (johnny johnny)
this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3
2. paris
this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:
After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”
“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”
okay! also in an interview once he said:
The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.
(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)
3. if i fell
this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.
4. oh! darling
rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.
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like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.
5. the real life demo
this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:
"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."
which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.
6. If Paul Were A Woman-
shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:
"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"
okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:
"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."
just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.
7. stuart!
not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least
8. john's bisexuality
here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao
9. paul's post-beatles work
there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:
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we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.
and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:
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bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)
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which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning
and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.
10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"
this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:
"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."
he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay
SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy
11. in my life/i will
these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:
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and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually
12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes
"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.
13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions
some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|
and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.
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jeridandridge · 3 months
Text
Send Me An Angel
Continuation of my College years series. Can be read on its own, but is sweeter when read with the rest. The first time you see Melissa in a couple years is when her nana dies.
It’s one in the morning on a Thursday when your phone starts ringing off the hook. Waking up to the high pitched beeping you wipe your eyes not bothering to look at the caller ID.
“Yeah?”
Hearing sniffles and a staggered breath on the line you immediately perk up knowing exactly who it is on the other end.
“Mel?”
“It’s me,” she croaks out. “I need you to be here I need you to get to me as soon as you can.” She lets out in a sob.
“Mel, honey what happened?” You ask tucking the cell phone between your cheek and shoulder as you get up and move to pack a bag.
“It- it’s nana,” she breathes. “She died.”
Feeling your heart drop into your stomach you freeze where you stand. Maria Schemmenti had been sick for a little while, refusing most treatments despite you and Melissa begging her to, even offering her a blank check to cover the costs. The old school Sicilian woman declined, saying she was as healthy as a horse.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Red. Hang tight, okay?” You say tossing clothes into your carry on.
“Be careful,” she sniffles. “I’ll see you.”
As soon as Melissa hangs up you’re calling a pilot friend of yours offing him a crazy amount of money to get you across the country as soon as possible. Forty five minutes later with a bag slung over your shoulder you walk with your friend onto the tarmac. The flight from San Francisco to Philly would be long and excruciating not only because of the reason you’re going, but because you haven’t seen Melissa in person in two years.
The first time she came to visit you in California was ten years ago and it had been a yearly occurrence up until recently. You were nervous to see your person again after so long, but she needed you and you needed to pay your respects.
The sun is just coming up when the private plane touches down at the Philadelphia airport. “Thank you, John. I owe you big time.” You give him a hug and a big check.
“Go take care of your woman and you can buy me a drink when you get back,” the man pats your shoulder. “I’ll be at the hotel if you need me.”
Hustling through the airport like you’re about to miss a flight, you get to the pick up location hailing a cab panting as you speed dial Melissa on your cell phone.
After two rings, a groggy voice answers.
“Hey, Red. Im in the city on my way.”
“You’re here already? Hon, how?”
“I know a guy.” You smirk quoting your best friends famous excuse as you ride through the streets of Philly. “Are you at home or your mom’s?”
“I’m at home. I’ll get started on breakfast.”
“Don’t even. just get dressed and we’ll go to that diner I’ve heard so much about.” You smile against the phone hoping the little outing would help her.
“Okay, hon.” She lets out a weak chuckle.
“I’ll see you soon, Red.”
In the cab you tuck the phone into your carry on and reach for your make up compact hoping you looked presentable after the long night and the nerves you felt eating away at you. When the cab pulls onto Melissa’s street you sit up taking a breath. Paying the driver you hop out jogging up to the door lightly knocking.
Not even ten seconds later the door opens and you’re being hugged by Melissa. As always, it’s as if the time apart doesn’t matter. Her face is hidden on the crook of your neck and her arms are around your shoulders.
“Walk backwards, honey.” You instruct walking carefully inside, hand rubbing her back. Sliding your bag off your shoulder it lands on the floor with a thud, discarded for the time being. Wrapping your arms around the redheads frame you let out a sigh just standing there with her, her walls always broken down with you.
“Thank you.” Is all Melissa says keeping her arms around you in a warm hug not willing to let go yet. You had always been a safe place for her, that much you knew, and you loved it.
“Have you eaten at all?” You ask with your lips against her hair.
“Not since yesterday morning.”
Reluctantly pulling back you keep her at arms length running your hands up and down her arms. “Cmon, let’s get something to eat and when we get back I’ll help you with whatever you need.”
Melissa looks up at you with a wobbly lip wiping her eyes as she moves to get her shoes. “God I look awful.” She pouts looking in the hallway mirror.
“No you don’t, Red.” You meet jade eyes in the mirror. “And if nana heard you say you haven’t eaten she’d chase you with a wooden spoon.” You tease getting a weak laugh out of your best friend.
As she always did, she hands you the keys to her car silently asking you to drive and you happily accept. Getting in the vehicle you drive her through the familiar streets smiling when you see all the old spots you haven’t visited in many years.
“Turn left up here, hon.” She points resting her hand on yours as it dangles off of the center console. Flicking your signal on you relish in the feeling of warm skin on yours happy to provide her even just a little bit of comfort. Having known Maria Schemmenti yourself since you were a freshman in college this death hit you hard. She was a confidante for you when visiting the family with Melissa, and you were going to miss her.
In the cozy mom and pop diner you sit across from Melissa adding sugar packets to your coffee when the server comes over.
“Melissa, I was so sorry to hear about your nana. My condolences.” The young woman says gently.
“Thank you, hon. It’s been a rough 24 hours.” She gives the girl a weak smile. ���This is my friend I was telling you about.” Melissa smiles at you reaching for your hand across the table.
“Oh Melissa talks about you all the time! Let me hook you guys up with some comfort food.”
As the server takes the order you can’t help but glance down into your coffee cup biting back a smile. Of course Melissa talked about you. Despite how you left and how you reconnected, it was no surprise she told other people about you.
Through a nice breakfast, you sip your coffee picking at your own plate while making sure Melissa actually eats a full meal. It’s mostly a comfortable silence unless your server comes over, and at the end of the meal Melissa meets your eyes.
“I can’t believe how fast you got here.”
“You needed me.” You shrug sipping your coffee. “And I loved your nana too you know.”
“She loved you a lot.” The redhead cracks a smile thinking about her wedding and how her nana held her as she cried for you after the ceremony.
You smile tightly playing with a sugar packet on the table feeling guilty. “I wish I came sooner. Got to visit one more time.”
“Oh, hon. None of us knew it would happen so fast.” She reassures you reaching across the table again for your hand.
Fingers laced together you give her a soft smile as your arm rests on the table. “I can stay here as long as you need me to.” You offer after a moment of thought. “After the funeral and everything, you could- you could come back to San Francisco with me. Even for just a couple days.” You shrug.
Melissa looks at you surprised, biting her lip in thought about the idea. She hadn’t seen you in so long and phone calls weren’t scratching her itch anymore. She was already hurting and needed you. “I’ll go with you, hon.”
“Yeah?” You smile in surprise.
Letting out a content sigh Melissa smiles at you. “It’s been too long and my phone bill is outrageous.” She teases you.
“I can’t argue with you, Red.” You chuckle leaning back in your chair, an odd relief hitting you at her answer.
After arguing over who gets the bill, you happily pay and tip the young girl generously before resting your hand on the small of Melissa’s back as you two leave.
“All that coffee and I could still sleep.” Melissa yawns.
“You didn’t sleep did you.” You say more as a fact than a question knowing how she is when she’s upset. When she was going through her divorce she would call you every night staying up until the late hours of the morning on the east coast.
“‘Course not. I was goin through family photos after I got the call.” She hums climbing in the car.
Driving back to her house you glance over at her seeing her start to look sleepy. “Koala time?” You ask referring back to the dumb joke between you two from college. Quickly into your friendship you learned that Melissa loved to cuddle. So much so that even when drunk she would wrap herself around you.
“Yeah.” She smiles getting the key out to unlock the door. Inside your bag still sits on the floor next to the door. Kicking your shoes off you lift your arms in a stretch ready for a nap yourself. Looking at the clock it was hardly nine o’clock, and it was obvious the redhead needed sleep.
“Cmon, Red.” You hum wrapping your arm around her shoulders as you both go upstairs. When you enter Melissa’s room, the environment is completely her. More family photos are on the walls, a massive bookshelf loaded with books, and a signed eagles jersey hangs above the bed.
“That’s amazing.” You chuckle looking at the jersey as you stand there, a little nervous to climb into bed with her. You’d thought about being in bed with her ever since you left, and now you were here and she was right in front of you.
“Do ya need a formal invite, hon?” She teases snapping you out of your trance.
Getting under the blankets you shift with Melissa, wrapping your arm around her as she hides her face in your neck letting out a content sigh. She needed this comfortable bubble as much as you did.
After years of being apart, the feeling of your legs tangling with the redheads and her steady breathing lulls you to sleep faster than you even remembered.
Waking up to knocking and a voice that isn’t Melissa’s you bolt up keeping your arm over the redhead ready to jump out of bed, Melissa jolting awake beside you.
“Ain’t this cute? Bout time you came back, world traveler.” Kristen-Marie leans against the door.
“Jesus Christ, how’d you even get in here?” Melissa huffs, you lay back down letting out a breath trying to calm down.
“I have a key, genius. You weren’t answerin the phone, I came to see if you were okay. And I found letters from nana.” The blond woman shrugs in the door way. “If I knew lover girl was here I woulda stayed outside.”
Rolling your eyes you turn over burying your face into the pillow.
“What letters you talking about?” The redhead looks at her sister. No one had gone through any of nanas stuff yet.
“They were in her purse.” Kristen-Marie clears her throat handing two over.
“This one’s envelop had a stamp on it and everything.” She gestures to you handing it over to Melissa. Confused, you sit up looking and the white envelopes, one completely addressed to you.
“Why would I have one?” You ask quietly, almost afraid to open it.
“Alright, hold on, let’s go downstairs and read these, yeah?” Melissa looks between you and her sister.
Holding the envelope your arm feels like it weight about a hundred pounds as you file down the stairs with Melissa and her sister. Melissa is already tearing up as she sits on the couch, envelope unopened. Curiosity getting the better of you, you carefully peel the paper open. A piece of stationary with Maria Schemmenti’s beautiful cursive handwriting sits on the page. As you begin to read wonderful compliments and praises from the now gone woman, tears begin to flow down your cheeks when you get to the very end.
And you my dear, need to make this old lady happy and take care of my Melissa. I know you two love each other more than friends, more than sisters. I held her during her wedding reception in tears because she knew she made a mistake. I remember those glances you two tried to hide during family dinners. Please, tell her how you feel.
I’ll be watching.
Love, Nana.
Sniffling you re read the words over and over again letting them soak in. She knew. Of course Maria Schemmenti knew.
“Hon? Hon?”
Your head snaps up to meet watery green eyes, Melissa holding her sisters hand on the couch.
“What did yours say?” She asks through her own sniffles.
“It uh, she just reminded me of some things.” You shrug with a smile.
Maria Schemmenti, the matriarch of that entire family, was right and you intend to do as she says.
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