#shes always thinking of them and changing her day around for them but shes not inconveniencing or harming herself with it

[hunnemonster]

This is exactly like, albeit a man in the shower, the first time my cuck and hotwife life started.

I watched our plumber clumsily and excitedly fuck my wife while I watched again the shower screen.

He'd clearly fantasised about fucking her for a while, we used to joke about it behind his back because he always admired her frame when she was around. I suggested one day casual that she go in naked into the shower where he was working and that's just what she did.

At first he was unsure and didn't really know what to do out of nervousness i think. That soon subsided as I encouraged then both to aquaint themselves with each other. He took no more encouragement and maybe he thought id change my mind. Literally two minutes later he was fucking her like a whore against the glass. I'm not sure if he fucked all of his women like a man crazed or he was just so excited to be ball deep in mine. The thrill of this playing out has changed us forever im happy to say. I encouraged him to unload into my gorgeous wife which I think surprised them both and then he left me to clear up his mess. Typical plumber!

A day I'll always remember.

Rilynn vs Shyla

[bapeach]

Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 9.1k+  Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making… 

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. 

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious. 

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face. 

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest. 

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment? 

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well. 

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat. 

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through. 

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay. 

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”. 

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers. 

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her. 

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her. 

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response. 

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes. 

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in. 

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.” 

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about. 

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now. 

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. 

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk. 

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell. 

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back. 

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave. 

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.” 

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease. 

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone. 

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level. 

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more. 

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support. 

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand. 

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out. 

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around. 

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room. 

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile. 

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family. 

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.” 

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment. 

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person. 

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face. 

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match. 

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug. 

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”. 

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly. 

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant. 

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts. 

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this. 

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face. 

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. 

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt. 

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned. 

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game. 

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime. 

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.” 

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside. 

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

[bweeeb]

PUPPY EYES

Synopsis: When Pedro doesn't take you to the awards ceremony for his new movie, your relationship starts to go downhill with the thought that maybe you're too young to give him everything he needs.

Warnings: nothing major, angst, couple with problems, Pedro and you are 26 years apart.

Career, projects, new movies, memories, and that topic that always left you unsure—was it negative or positive anticipation when people brought up relationships?

It wasn’t news to anyone that five months ago, when you and Pedro made it official that you’d been secretly seeing each other for a year, people started digging into every little detail. And a few months ago, the age difference between you two didn’t bother anyone in your social circle. Both of you were adults who knew exactly what you were doing with your lives.

Even your parents, who had initially been surprised by the man 26 years older than you, eventually came to accept your choice. So it shouldn’t bother you or anyone else anymore.

"So, I don’t think you’ve ever openly talked about your relationship with Pedro Pascal after making it official. Is it okay if we discuss it?"

The podcast host smiled at you, and you let out an embarrassed laugh, shrugging.

"Why not?"

"How did you two meet?"

"We worked on the same movie, so we were constantly together on set. One thing led to another."

"And you never thought, like, ‘Wow, he’s way too old for me,’ since there’s a significant age gap?"

"Twenty-six years, isn’t it?" Another host interrupted.

"Didn’t he say in an interview that he wouldn’t date anyone with more than a 20-year age difference? Doesn’t that make you curious about what changed?"

"Well, when we met, I didn’t think much about it, and I don’t think he did either. Yes, he mentioned that he wouldn’t date someone with a 20-year age gap. But I’ve always had a thing for DILFs, and he’s definitely one. One thing led to another, without either of us realizing it."

Your cheeks flushed as you spoke honestly, your eyes briefly catching your publicist’s approving thumbs-up from behind the glass.

"I think it’s much more about connection than anything tangible, you know? Our age difference is almost unnoticeable in our day-to-day life now."

"Pedro is, what, around 50 years old? Let’s not pretend it’s entirely unnoticeable." One of them chuckled, and you narrowed your eyes, frustrated at how your words were twisted.

"You’re young, clearly with the body of a 23-year-old, while he’s middle-aged. I think people are just curious about what made you stay." The other one chimed in, leaning toward the mic. You smiled politely, glancing between the camera and the hosts.

"Maybe the real question is what makes him stay. He had a firm opinion, and suddenly, it changed. Pedro has the purest and most beautiful soul in the world. He laughs at his own dad jokes, he shows me things I’d never imagined because he’s from 1975, and he’s a man with a capital M who treats me like the last rose petal in the universe. So, honestly, if he ever agrees to do an interview with you, maybe you should ask him what makes him stay.

"After the podcast aired, what you thought would be a calm discussion turned into a social media battleground. People twisted your words and intentions.

"A man taking care of a child—what nonsense."

"Really, ask him why he stays because she’s unbearable."

"Did she call his jokes ‘dad jokes’? Who does that to their boyfriend? RUN, PEDRO!"

"She’s just after his money."

"The most boring woman in the world is with the hottest man alive. How does that even happen?"

"She has nothing to offer him. Relax, ladies, it won’t last three more months."

"Dakota Johnson seemed interested in him; I wouldn’t be surprised if he ditches this corn husk for her."

"If I knew he was into younger women, I’d have listed a hundred better options than Y/N."

"Wait, guys—he didn’t even take her to the Gladiator premiere. How serious do you think this is?"

It was exhausting. Even though you avoided reading the comments, they popped up everywhere, and all the therapy you’d done to maintain a stable mental health seemed to be slipping through your fingers. But Pedro couldn’t know, so you plastered on a sweet smile whenever you saw him, even as doubts began to creep in.

Maybe you really were the worst option for him. Maybe someone older, with similar experiences, would be better. Someone more mature, less bubbly and silly.Sitting in the car, you stared blankly out the window as Pedro talked about the Gladiator premiere—the one you hadn’t attended because you weren’t invited.

"Hey, are you okay?" It wasn’t that you weren’t listening. You just didn’t have much to say, so you let him keep talking.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Go on."

Your smile didn’t falter, and you silently thanked yourself for being a good actress.

"No, you’re not fine. What’s wrong?"

"Of course I am. It must’ve been surreal, babe. Even Dakota Johnson was there, right?"

"Yeah, but what’s wrong with you?" His eyes left the road momentarily to glance at you. You shook your head.

"Nothing. You’re just imagining things." You leaned over, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling away.

"Eyes on the road, old man."

"Okay, but I thought I was your daddy."

He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes as if offended. You loved that about him—the way he was so expressive and dramatic, some might call it embarrassing, but you found it endlessly entertaining.

"You know when you’re my daddy," you said with a mischievous smile, swallowing the rising bitterness in your throat. That night was the last time you slept at his place. Over the following days, you insisted on being dropped off at home, and Pedro didn’t argue. He simply observed your strange behavior.

At first, he thought you might be pregnant and unsure about what to do. But then he remembered you weren’t the type to hide something like that. He considered that maybe you were overwhelmed with your new projects, but you usually loved talking about them. And then, his thoughts landed on your relationship. Had he done something wrong? He couldn’t pinpoint anything.

Five days later, the two of you were at a dinner with friends. Everything was going well until it wasn’t.

"Hey, Y/N, why didn’t I see you at the premiere? I thought I’d catch a glimpse of you in a glorious dress," Lux, Pedro’s sister, asked.

Your cheeks burned, and your heart raced with nervous discomfort. Were you supposed to admit you hadn’t been invited? No. Your mom had taught you better than that.

"I…" A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you shifted uncomfortably in your chair. You didn’t dare look at Pedro beside you, though you could feel his guilty puppy-dog eyes on you. You wouldn’t give in.

"I had some things tied up with the script for the movie. It was a hectic week."

In reality, the script had been finalized, and even if the writer had faced complications, you’d have found time to support your boyfriend and contribute new ideas to the director.

"Ah, really? What a shame. I hope everything’s okay now," Lux said.

"Oh, it’s all sorted," you replied, forcing a smile.Your smile faltered briefly when Pedro’s hand tried to find yours under the table. Clearing your throat, you stood up, announcing that you needed to use the restroom.When you returned, Pedro was chatting with one of his friends, and you were grateful he was too preoccupied to bring up the earlier conversation.

"Wow, did you do something with your hair? It looks blonder, or is it just me?" Hazel, one of Pedro’s friends’ girlfriends, asked politely.

"Yeah, I did. Amelia’s amazing," you replied.

"Oh my gosh, give me her number, please. I need something this stunning."

"Of course, I’ll even book you an appointment if you want."

"It’s impressive how an older man managed to snag someone as beautiful and sweet as you," Lux teased. Normally, you would’ve laughed it off, but everything felt different that night. You chuckled falsely, smiling as you’d been doing all week.

"Oh, come on, stop that," Pedro said, sounding uneasy. He could sense your odd mood.Of course, you were acting strange.

Everything had been strange lately.

Later, in the car, your gaze rested on your hands in your lap while you felt Pedro’s eyes boring into the side of your face.

"Honey—"

"If we could not talk about this now, I’d be much happier. Can you just take me home?"

"You know I want to—"

"Pedro."You turned to him, tired of pretending. Your voice was tense, and he immediately understood how serious it was. You never called him by his name. "Stop." Your tone wasn’t angry or annoyed, just lifeless. That terrified him. Women didn’t usually scare him. At nearly 50 years old, he thought he’d learned to handle these situations.

"I’m sorry, okay."

His gaze returned to the road, while you looked out the window, waiting to get home.

As you were arriving, you realized he wasn't taking you to your house but to his instead. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh and covered your face with both hands.

"What are you doing?" The words came out muffled as you felt him slow down.

"Going home."

"This is the way to your house."

"My house is your house, darling."

"You know what I mean," you whispered, exhausted.

"I thought you didn’t want to go. That it would be too much pressure for you, that... that you wouldn’t want people talking."

You heard him lament, and biting your lip, you sniffled. You tried hard not to act childish in the situation, looking up and taking a deep breath, reminding yourself not to let the tears fall.

"I know," was all you managed to reply before your voice broke.

"I... I just need to think for a bit."

"Think... right. Think about what?"

"Can you please take me home?" Pedro nodded at that and drove to your building. For the first time, he felt a strange haze between the two of you.

"Thank you." Even in the awkwardness, there you were, sweet as ever. Pedro could never deny how much he appreciated that about you—the way you always thanked everyone for everything. You were so pure. "Anytime." You opened the car door and stepped out, but before you entered the building, Pedro got out and called after you.

"I'm sorry. And I love you." That’s what he said before you turned to look at him with sad eyes—the same expression you wore when you thought he had forgotten to pick you up for a date, only to find out he was planning a surprise trip to Chile.That night, Pedro went home with his tail between his legs. When Lux called him in the morning, he couldn’t have felt worse.

"You look like one of the infected from The Last of Us. Gross."Lux teased as Pedro rubbed his face with his left hand."What do you want?"

"Wow. Rude."

"Sorry, I didn’t sleep. Just tell me why you’re calling me at six in the morning."

"I was thinking about how you said Y/N was acting strange, and I agree. Last night, she was quieter than usual. Pero luego empecé a preguntarme: ¿la invitaste al estreno? Porque se puso muy rara después de que lo mencioné y estaba revisando los comentarios..." ( But then I started wondering—did you invite her to the premiere? Because she got all weird after I brought it up, and I was checking the comments...)

"Ya te dije que no revises los comentarios. La gente está loca". (I already told you not to check the comments. People are insane.)

Pedro rolled his eyes, sighed, and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. You and Pedro had talked about ignoring online negativity countless times. Neither of you usually cared about it. You weren’t starting now, were you?

"Lo sé, lo sé, pero se están portando fatal con ella. Y al no invitarla, la gente pensó que la estaban dejando de lado". ( I know, I know, but they’re being awful to her. And not inviting her made people think you were sidelining her.)

Lux sounded worried, almost angry.

"Eso es ridículo. Yo nunca haría algo así. Ella lo sabe. "(That’s ridiculous. I’d never do that—she knows that.)

"La compararon con Dakota Johnson. No es justo, son completamente diferentes. Dijeron que te cansarías de la 'niña'. Sabemos que es más madura que la mayoría de las mujeres, pero aún es joven". ( They compared her to Dakota Johnson. It’s not even fair—they’re completely different. They said you’ll get tired of the ‘kid.’ We know she’s more mature than most women, but she’s still young. )

Pedro propped his elbows on his knees and sighed. You had never acted immaturely. You never made rash decisions or threw tantrums over small things. You never picked fights or complained about work or friends. People didn’t know anything about your relationship—how could they?

"¿Crees que está preocupada? "(Do you think she’s worried)

"La mujer está intentando mantener la compostura y alejarse antes de que la abandones, como todos han estado diciendo". (The woman’s trying to hold herself together and pulling away before you ditch her like everyone’s been saying.)

Lux sighed and continued,

"Deberías haber escuchado cómo habló de ti en ese podcast. Nadie más sería así, no como ella. Haz algo. ( You should’ve heard how she talked about you on that podcast. No one else would be like that—not like her. Do something. )

Fuck. Pedro thought. He’d be stuck working all day, knowing you were likely asleep now. As the day went on, you ignored his missed calls. Not as an act of immaturity but because you needed personal space. You planned to talk to him eventually, but your phone felt like a weight you couldn’t bear. Instead, you threw yourself into work, ensuring every detail was perfect.Later, your group decided to go out for dinner, and you joined to keep your mind occupied. You loved them all but remained mostly a listener. Exhausted from a sleepless night, you struggled to follow the conversation, though you smiled at their stories.After dinner, you excused yourself to the restroom. As you washed your hands, you overheard two women talking in mocking tones.

"Do you think it’s a PR stunt?"

You frowned, listening as the other responded,

"It must be. I mean, it’s all over the news, and she’s playing the sad little girl role."

"Yeah, right? He used to call someone 25 a kid, and now he’s with a 23-year-old? Ridiculous."

"Did you see the photo of him with Dakota at the bar?"

"What? When?"

"Today, about an hour ago. She was kissing his cheek, and even if it’s for the movie, I doubt it. They weren’t even working."

"Think he’ll trade her in?"

"She won’t last ten days."

You grabbed your phone and opened Twitter. The first thing you saw was the photo of him and Dakota. He had that drunken smile on his face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. You weren’t the jealous type, fully aware of how PR worked in Hollywood, but it still stung.You washed your hands, turned to face them, and said,

"At least I’m more than a nameless extra without a single line. The only roles your venomous tongues will land you are in adult films, and not the Pearl kind—cheap, disgusting ones. Have a good night.

"With that, you left, hailed a cab, and went home. Fighting back tears, you repeated to yourself, Don’t cry. It’s just a picture. You ignored him all day, so stop acting like this.But for the first time, you cried over something like this.

Your head ached, and with the tip of your nose red, you picked up the phone and called him—without thinking too much, without wrestling with your thoughts. You just did what you felt needed to be done.The first call went straight to voicemail, and even though the thought of not wanting to humiliate yourself for him crossed your mind, you ignored it, knowing you were the one who had lost ground first. On the second call, your phone was answered, and the muffled sound made you swallow hard—he was out of the house.

“Hey.”

Your voice came out low, and you heard some murmurs on the other side, blending with loud conversation.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice called from the other side, and you grimaced. “Uh, hi. Is Pedro there?”

“Uh, he’s kind of busy right now,” she said.

“Busy…” you repeated softly. “Who are you?”

“Carly.”

Carly? Who the hell is Carly? you thought immediately.

“Then tell him I called, Carly.”

“And you are…?” The mocking tone in her voice irritated you, and your expression was far from pleasant.

“A friend. Tell him a friend called.”

“Great.” She hung up without saying anything else, and you wrapped yourself in your own cocoon of blankets that didn’t warm you like Pedro did.Suits was playing on TV while you avoided going to bed, eventually falling asleep without even realizing it. Around 3 a.m., frantic knocks on your door startled you awake, making you look warily down the hallway. The doormen usually informed you of anyone coming to your floor.

Cautiously, you peeked through the peephole and saw him there, rubbing his face with his two hands, five times bigger than yours. You stopped, stepped back from the door, and sighed before opening it. Once you unlocked the door’s security latch, you looked at him and almost closed it again upon seeing your reflection, still wearing his shirt.

“It’s late. What are you doing here?” Your voice came out softly, and you saw Pedro stammer as he raised his hand in a nervous tic.

“A friend?”

“What?”

“Why did you say you were just a friend, sweetheart?” Pedro asked, stepping forward. You didn’t step back, only shrugged and gave a disheartened smile

.“She said you were busy. I thought it would be more… convenient than saying something else.”

“You’re something else. You’re my girlfriend. And my fiancée. And my wife. And I don’t care if you want to be the mother of my kids when I’m a hundred years old.”

He’s so drunk, you thought.

“How much tequila did you drink, Pedro?”

“The whole bottle.” He laughed, moving closer and gently touching your face. He’d always been gentle; being drunk didn’t change that.

“Please don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me.”

“I won’t say anything to you while you reek of cheap booze and cheap women.” You closed the door behind him and stepped away, heading to the hallway and your closet to grab a towel and clean clothes for him.

“Take a shower. If you sober up, we’ll talk.”

Pedro knew what you were thinking—that he’d gotten mad, drunk with his friends, and gone out with women named Carly. But he hadn’t done anything other than stare at the karaoke machine, hating every second he wasn’t there to mock what he was hearing.

“Everything’s cheap,” he laughed, following you.

“You know what isn’t cheap, Pedro? My patience. I haven’t slept well in over a week, and now it’s almost four in the morning, which means it’s been twenty minutes since you showed up at my door, and I don’t know why the hell you’re not naked yet.”

Your words left your mouth, and Pedro smiled at you.

“One day without you, and I forget how hot you are when you’re bossy and sleepy,” he slurred, making you laugh softly as you turned on the shower and pushed him into the bathroom.

“Don’t fall in there, please.”

Fifteen minutes after you pushed him inside, your eyes were heavy, and the strange way your body associated his presence with a different kind of rest annoyed you. Without realizing it, you fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in your blanket. It was as if your body said":

— Oh, it’s okay; Pedro’s home, so we’re safe,— but was your heart safe?When he saw you asleep there, the tequila had only left him dizzy—nothing a cold shower couldn’t fix. He approached and carried you to your room without thinking twice, whispering as he looked at your face:

“I’m so sorry, my preatty little thing.”

He laid you on the bed, and as he was about to leave, he heard you murmur:

“Stay. Please.”

Without hesitation, he lay beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both in a cocoon where it was just the two of you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you?” you murmured, burying your head in his neck and feeling his hands trail up your back.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you, sweetheart?” he emphasized, and you sighed.

“I’m scared of losing you when you realize I’m too young, too naïve, and haven’t even experienced half of what you have.”

“I don’t even know why you’re thinking that. I’m the one who’s old. You’re perfect, intelligent, hot, and extremely talented—a young woman who fell into the arms of an old man like me.”

“Yeah, but I think maybe one day you’ll want someone your own age, someone like Sarah or any of your exes. I think it’s okay if you get bored of me, start feeling ashamed, and—”

“Stop. Stop that.” Pedro cupped your face, pulling it from his neck and making you look into his eyes. Your hands rested on his chest as you stared at him, and with a disheartened smile, Pedro caressed your face, clearly upset. When had your relationship reached such a fragile state?

“I didn’t take you to the premiere because the press is cruel. They’d talk about you, probably reinforce the rumors, and talk about me—call me a disgusting creep. I was going to take you, but all of our advisors told me not to risk exposing you in a bad light. I… I would never feel ashamed of you, for God’s sake. Look at you. A woman of any age wouldn’t hold a candle to you in a million years.”

Sniffling, you climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pedro sat on the bed, hugging you back, his hand resting gently on your waist.

“You don’t need to worry about anything. Whatever was written about you was a lie. God, I don’t think I even know how to live without you by my side anymore.”

You laughed, and a smile appeared on his lips.

“You don’t need to worry either. Other men lost their appeal the moment you wanted me.”

“That’s good, sweetheart.”

His hand traveled to the back of your neck, his large fingers running through your hair.

“And who was Carly?”

“A friend of the group.”

" And why did she have your cell phone?"

" It stayed on the table because I focused on looking at it for five to five minutes waiting for you to send me a message. "

“And the photo?”

He knew what you were referring to, and when he took it, he hadn’t expected it to reach you before you two made up—if you made up.

“It was to promote the movie, sweetheart. Dakota’s engaged.”

He brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Hmm, alright.” You looked at him, tracing your fingers from his hair to his beard until they stopped at his mustache.

“Stop looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes. It makes you irresistible.”

“Like this?”

He did it again, and you laughed, kissing his lips immediately after.

“Mm-hmm, like that.”

You murmured against his lips as he smiled at you, and you whispered,

“I love you.”

“I love you more, sweetheart. Just you.”

Pedro pulled you close, laying you back against the soft mattress, kissing you as if it were the last moment of your lives. At least, that’s what both of you hoped.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

I apologize if there are any mistakes in this writing. I didn't proofread it with the best eyes.

Requests are open

[baambied]

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢. 𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

cw cursing little nsfw at end kinda modern au

sevika ✗ fem!reader m.list

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she is definitely the type to accidentally sleep in her work clothes, she'd get home from work insanely late and just be far too tired to change out of them.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she somehow always misplaces her items in the most obvious places, it isn't her fault ! in her defense, one moment it's here and the next ... It's just gone.

sevika grumbled under her breath as her sharp silver eyes looked around for her missing reading glasses

"baby did you- tch do you know where i put my glasses?"

"there on your head vika...."

"oh.."

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ since your girlfriend is on the older side, she genuinely does not understand how to use these new apps, tiktok? Instagram? yeah, no, when you tell her she should get tiktok, she immediately declines, saying she thinks facebook is better.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ but after all your begging she eventually does get tiktok, at first she doesn't open the app for days ...but out of curiosity she does...let's just say her screentime on her phone went up.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ when she finds your tiktok my god the woman is mesmerized, in her repost it's all of your videos and that's it, and she's always your first mutual to like your videos when you post them.

*user @sevikaa123456 liked your post*

*user @sevikaaa123456 added your post to favorites*

*user @sevikaaa123456 reposted your video*

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ you would get random notifications at work of sevika sending you funny (lowk unfunny) tiktoks

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she's so insanely awkward when you take pictures of her or with her, she doesn't know how to pose and gets embarrassed and genuinely doesn't see the point in it.

"i don't know why your followers have to see a picture of me eating noodles..."

"but you look so cute !! it's just going on my story !"

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ talking about Instagram she eventually ended up downloading that too, she had no idea how to control that app at all and wtf were 'insta reels?' and why would someone name there username HER name ???? (which resulted in her username being seviika1234) you're her only follower, btw

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ certified yapper when it comes to you, she has two framed pictures on her desk at work...one of you from one of your birthday parties and another of you and her at one of her friends get togethers....one of colleagues ask her about the pictures and trust she'll just start yapping about you and how amazing you are.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ not that she'd ever admit this, but she LOVES being little spoon, she likes the feeling of your front side on her back... it's so comforting to her.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ it's hard to say whether if she's a light sleeper or not because sometimes she is and sometimes she isn't ....like she's napping in the living room and you accidentally drop a pot while cooking ?? she's still asleep, in the exact same position...but if she falls asleep with you in her arms, she's easily woken by the feeling of you gone.

your sleepy eyes squint as you washed your hands, too tired to open them all the way... you got up to use the bathroom leaving sevika in the bed alone

you wipe your hands dry and go to open the bathroom door, and you swear you almost felt your heart slammed right into your ass.

there stood sevika, right in front of the bathroom doorframe.

"fuck ! fuck !- sevika what are you-"

"where'd you go?" her gruff and deep raspy voice spoke out, the tiredness laced in her tone and almost annoyed as if your the one who scared her.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ again so awkward when you record her, when you make a tiktok to show off you and hers outfits she stands stiff as a board just looking at the camera and occasionally looking at you not knowing what to do.

caption - ootd with gf !! #wlw #ilovemygf

comments :

@lovelylace89: You and your girlfriend are so cute!! but why is she just standing there 😭

you replying to @lovleylace89 : she's just shy ☺️ @seviika123456

@seviika123456 replying to you : no, I'm not

you replying to @seviika123456 : hiii

@seviika123456 replying to you : hello baby

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she doesn't understand your slang at all, one day she sent you a picture of her at the gym and kid you not she stared at her phone with the most confused look inked on her face at your response that read 'omg you absolute DIVA💜👅'

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ or when she sent you a photo of her at work in her new black suit you bought her.

sevika : *1 attachment* wore that new suit you bought for me today, does it look good.

you: zoo wee mama...you come around these parts often? 😈🚬

sevika : what?

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ extremely observant and very protective posessive over you...at a dinner party and you're wearing a dress that's a little bit to short so when you accidentally drop your napkin and lean down to pick it up she's using her coat to block your legs as your dress rides up your legs from your movement, also using this as an excuse to keep her hand over your lap the rest of the night....totally had nothing to with the men in the room constantly glancing at you.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she's a little insecure about her scarred cheek, so when you compliment it, she's surprised.. even more surprised when you lay little pecks on her cheek.

sevika's big hands held your waist as her face scrunched up, there you sat on your girlfriends lap while laying soft, slightly wet kisses on her cheek that was scarred

"what are you doin' ?" sevika questioned , not knowing whether to be confused or laugh about your actions.

you lean away from her, both hands still on her jaw as your eyes flickered around her beautiful face "you're so beautiful sevi.."

sevika, not knowing how to respond to that just stared at you with slightly wide eyes... mouth softly agaped... , it's definitely not a compliment she received daily or a compliment she could remember receiving in a while.....she suddenly felt warmth in her chest...a familiar feeling...a feeling she only seemed to get when she was around you.

next thing you know sevika is placing fast small pecks on your face, like you were once doing to her, you gasp in shock of her sudden action, light laughs falling from your lips

"s - sev what -"

"shh shh shhh...."

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ even though sevika looks intimidating on the outside, she's such big softie on the inside with you she is literally so gentle with you.... soft cheek caressing, soft kisses..and she's definitely an old fashioned lover type when it comes to relationships.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she has really good patience when it comes to you, she's a good listener too.. but sometimes can get distracted just focused on your facial features..and thinking about how pretty you are when your babbling about your day...(blah blah blah proper name...placename..backstory stuff)

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ when you both started dating sevika was a little stiff and a little awkward when you do any sort of soft physical contact with her cause she isn't used to stuff like that...she has been to focused on her work so she never had time for relationships until you came into her life.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ takes ALOT of alcohol to get her drunk, this women can hold her liquor really good...like it's a friday night and she goes out with her colleagues drinking and talking having a great time and by the end of the night she's the one who is still sober while her colleagues are drunk and calling cabs.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ so we all seen that clip of sevika smiling while caitlyn bit her hand, right ??.....yeah

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ has a major biting kink..whether it's you biting her or her biting you it doesn't matter...both will have her creaming her boxers

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she has this thing for turning you on infront of people, imagine she's playing poker and your sitting right beside her minding your business...suddenly her hand is squeezing your upper thigh, fondling it and messing with you..it's not until she realized your thighs squeezing together she pulls her hand away...pretending as if nothing happened and as if you aren't sitting next to her all hot and bothered.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ her moans aren't loud, there mostly grunts, and low hums as her hands hold on to your hair....

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she likes to fuck your face, whether its with a strap or just you giving her head doesn't matter...she likes the way your eyes tear up, lips go all swollen and red...she likes how messy your mouth is all wet and soaked after she cums.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ i personally think her favorite position is cowgirl..there's something she loves about seeing you fuck yourself on her strap on top of her...the way your boobs bounced with every movement...the beautiful moans that's blessed her ears and that pretty fucked out look on your face ...the way your hip would falter when your burning thighs got to much for you...and the sounds you made when she began to thrust her hips up to get you off.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ whenever you annoy her or just straight up be a brat, she'd have you hump her thigh like a bitch in heat, she'd listen to your wines and pleads while leaning against the couch and smoking a cigar...her mean self even blowing the smoke in your face.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ loves when you scratch her back with your long nails. You're always shocked, looking at all the scratches you left on her bare flesh, sometimes accidentally drawing blood, but she assures you it's fine.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ eats your pussy like it's her last day on earth, like we all see how much she salivates alot right ?? she's so fucking messy with it ...pulling away to spit on your cunt before going back in...also she likes eye contact....forcing you to keep looking into her eyes and everytime you look away she'd stop.

𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ likes to leave hickes on the inner parts of your thighs too, her way of teasing you.

[janeyseymour]

Overheated

Summary: sometimes you faint. a certain someone is always there to catch you.

WC: ~2.3k

“Melissa, I’m fine,” you grumble as you roll out of bed that day. “Just PMS.”

“And you know how that shit knocks you out,” your wife mutters, although she does allow you to get up. She knows you’ve already used your sick days earlier in the year when you caught the flu.

“Well, it can’t today,” you grunt and groan as you change into your work clothes. “I can’t afford to not get paid, and I don’t want Mr. J as my sub again.”

“I told you, we can survive without one day of your pay if you really feel as shitty as I think you do,” Melissa tells you as she snakes her arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your temple.

You turn slightly in her arms to kiss her softly. “I know, but I really don’t need Mr. J teaching my kids that the moon landing was fake.”

“You know my thoughts on that conspiracy theory,” the redhead chuckles softly as she lets you go. When you grimace in pain, she mumbles to herself, “Can’t forget the heating pad and Midol today.”

“And Excedrin,” you whine.

“Hun, if your head is pounding too,” Melissa looks to you with sympathy.

You stand strong though. “I’m going. I’ll just teach with the lights off and from my desk today.”

“Stubborn as a Schemmenti,” your wife rolls her eyes. “I swear.”

“I am a Schemmenti now,” you quip with a smirk before you feel a shoot pain that causes you to wince.

“And I am so thankful for that,” Melissa promises you as she kisses your head again. With that, the two of you head down the steps for breakfast.

Your breakfast is, while painful, a wonderfully quiet and warm haze. Your wife all but forces you to sit at the table while she prepares the coffee and meal, along with handing you the hot water bottle for you to hold to your abdomen.

As you leave for work, you would venture to say that you feel slightly better than you did when you first woke up. Still, you know you probably shouldn’t push yourself too hard. You vow to yourself (and your fiercely protective spouse) that you’ll do everything you can to teach from your chair today.

For whatever reason, your students are completely out of hand today in every single way. From the second they step into your classroom, you can tell it’s going to be a terrible day- a day where no matter how much you want to resign yourself to sitting in your chair, you simply can’t. You find yourself hovering over your students no matter what their assignment is, pacing the aisles that you’ve created in your classroom. It’s terrible- completely and utterly horrid. You can’t sit with your heating pad, you didn’t even bring a hot water bottle, your head has started to pound again with the class’s volume. It’s absurd.

When lunch time comes around for your students, you practically drag them down- hopeful for a full lunch period of peace and quiet in your classroom; you’ve already decided that you aren’t making it to the staff lounge today. Instead you’ll take your wife’s teasing at the fact that you are so unwell that you couldn’t even fathom coming to have lunch with her.

But of course, because as the universe decides, you don’t get to treat yourself to a quiet lunch. No, instead, you’re running around like an idiot trying to make sure that you’re students all have lunch, and when you think you’ll be able to go for the last ten minutes to eat your lunch in silence, you’re pulled into an issue surrounding your student who hasn’t had lunch money for the past two weeks (a problem unknown to you).

You go in circles with Shanae for a few minutes before you finally roll your eyes and fork over the money in order to get him a lunch and placate the irritable lunch lady.

“Coulda done that in the first place,” she grumbles as she snatches the money from your hand and begins to count it.

At this point, you only have about five minutes left of your lunch time. There’s no use in going to back to your classroom- not when you would just have to turn right back around. So instead, you sit in the hallway for the last few minutes before leading them back down to your classroom.

You think to yourself that you’ll just eat while your kids have their special, only to realize that you indeed do not have a special. You lost the only time to yourself today. You sigh as you instruct your students to get out a book for five minutes while you collect yourself again.

Hastily, you reach for your phone, hoping to convince your wife to bring you your meal from the staffroom. Upon the device lighting up, you see quite a few concerned messages from Melissa.

You coming down for lunch?

Hun?

I’m coming to your room.

Did you leave early?

And then a few minutes later, the last text comes in. Saw you in the cafeteria. Love you.

Sorry, you respond. Had an issue with Taijon’s lunch and left my phone in the classroom. Do you think you have a few minutes to bring me my lunch?

I can’t, your wife texts. I don’t have prep today- with the gym teacher out. I’m sorry hun. Are you okay? I can have Barb head down during her prep?

No, no, don’t bother her. I’ll be fine.

Are you fine?

I will be, you send before setting your phone down and starting class again. 

It turns out, as luck would have it, that you are indeed not fine. Despite the Diet Coke that you put into your purse this morning for an extra jolt of caffeine, your head is still pounding, you’re absolutely exhausted, and your cramps are only getting worse. Whether they’re getting worse because your period is incoming or if it’s because you haven’t eaten anything other than the few bites of breakfast you could manage because of your nausea, who can say. 

Your wife sees how pale and slightly green you look while you’re dismissing your students. She knows that tonight is going to be an early night, one with a heating pad pressed against your abdomen, and in turn, hers because you’ll be laying on top of her.

“How’re you feeling?” she still asks you as she makes her way over.

“Fine,” you grumble. “Just want to get home.”

“As soon as all of the kids are gone, we can sneak out. Yeah?” You can only nod.

It’s a few minutes later that all of your kids have left the school grounds, and you sigh in slight discomfort as you make your way back into the school. You’re starting to feel warmer and warmer, and the redhead has an arm around your waist the entire walk down to your classroom, where she gathers your things for you and slings them over her shoulder. And then the two of you are making your way down to her classroom. And while you really did think you were fine- that you just had to make it home before collapsing onto the couch and staying there until it was time to retire for bed- but it turns out you aren’t. You start to stumble just slightly as a wave of dizziness hits you to accompany the hot flash you seem to be in the middle of. 

“Hun?” Melissa’s eyes quickly dart to you as she feels just the slightest shift in weight.

You’re able to catch yourself on her doorframe. “I’m good. Just a little-”

And then you go down. Melissa’s one arm isn’t strong enough to hold you up as you faint in her arm. To her credit though, your wife does try to grab you with her other hand. Unfortunately, she’s not quick enough, and her engagement ring manages to catch on the skin of your cheek as she flounders to reach for you and cuts you.

“Fuck!” your wife yells out loud enough to attract the attention of the teachers who have also come inside. Barbara is the first one to run to Melissa’s room- only to see you on the floor with a bloody cheek that is now spilling onto the carpet.

“Oh dear God!” the kindergarten teacher sputters as she kneels down beside you and the redhead. “What happened?”

“I- I don’t know,” Melissa mutters as she lays you down on your back. “She hasn’t been feeling well, but I-”

You open your eyes groggily, only to groan at the florescent lights hitting you. You screw them shut again.

“Mi amore,” your wife mumbles as she presses a tissue to your cheek. Then she turns to look at Barbara. “Can you grab me her bottle of water?”

No sooner is your water bottle straw being brought to your lips as Melissa props you up, and you take a sip quickly. And then you’re trying to sit up on your own and pull the tissue catching your blood from your face. Strong hands just keep you on the ground though.

“Lis, I’m perfectly-”

“Did you want to finish that thought?” the redhead interrupts you. “Did you want to finish blaming that you’re perfectly fine? Or are you going to faint again?”

You jut out your bottom lip as you succeed in pulling the tissue away from you cheek. “Be nice to me,” you pout. “I’m injured, and not feeling well.”

Green eyes are rolled with such love. “Oh, so now you admit it? There’s blood on my floor.”

“I’ll clean it up.” You go to move, but once again, you’re glued to the woman holding you in her arms.

“Like hell you will,” Melissa mumbles as she presses a kiss to your unmarked cheek. “What you will be doing is laying on the floor for a few minutes while I clean it up, and then we’re going home.”

“Dear, why did you faint?” Barbara asks as she switches places with the redhead. “Did you eat today?”

You hum softly as you take another sip of water. “I had a few bites of breakfast this morning, but that’s all I could manage.”

“No wonder you passed out. Why didn’t you eat lunch?”

You shrug.

“Or ask one of us to bring it to you?”

Again, you shrug. “Didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Next time,” both older women grumble. “Be a smaller bother than fainting after school.”

“Noted.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you’re feeling well enough to sit up on your own. And when you go to stand, you find that you’re instead being swept off your feet and into the arms of your wife.

“You’re not fainting again,” Melissa tells you sternly. She whisks you out of the classroom and in the direction of your cars, leaving Barbara to follow along with all of your belongings.

“Guys,” you grumble, although you do wrap your arms around Melissa’s neck and lean into her slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Fine my ass,” Melissa huffs as she sets you down in the passenger seat. She turns to the kindergarten teacher and takes both of your belongs before sighing. “Thanks for the help, Barb.”

“Anything for family,” the woman smiles sweetly, although then she turns to you with a stern look. “I do hope that you won’t be making a habit of this though.”

You turn red under Barbara’s steely gaze. “I won’t.” 

Since that first incident, you’ve been a lot better about taking care of yourself- although you do have to admit that sometimes you’re only remembering to take care of yourself because of your wonderful wife (and Barbara, at times). You don’t end up fainting at school again- thank goodness.

Well, that is until you’re attempting to hide the fact that you’re pregnant. You and your wife had only recently discovered that you were with child.

It’s May- an unusually hot month that you’re sitting in a school without air conditioning. You can feel the flush in your cheeks as you’re sitting in the staff room with your coworkers, your wife’s hand resting warmly on your thigh.

“Off,” you mumble as you practically throw her hand off of you and begin to fan yourself with your hand.

The redhead looks at you, clearly confused, but then she sees the red in your cheeks, and she knows you’re going through a hot flash- one of the few symptoms that you’ve had of this pregnancy so far.

“Are you-” and then you go down.

Melissa, who had dealt with this a few times (the first time being when you had passed out and she forced you to take a test), moves in a calm and purposeful manner. She has the lollipop to help with the nausea that is bound to overtake you, your water bottle, and then she’s down by your side quickly.

“She’s eating!” Barbara shouts in disbelief. “How could she faint?!”

When you come to a few seconds later, you let out a heavy sigh. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“If you knew you were getting overheated, you should’ve asked for an ice pack like you do at home,” you wife tuts.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you take a few sips of water.

“This isn’t good for you or the baby,” Melissa sighs, entirely forgetting where she’s at in the moment. The only thing she cares about is you.

“The what?!” Jacob practically shouts, being the first one to hear this news and let it sink in.

“You’re with child?!” Barbara cries not a moment later.

You bite your lip and look to your wife, who is about as red as her hair. “Uhm… surprise?”

Tags

 (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @schmentisgf

[loveandleases]

What kind of picture of MC (if any) would the ROs have as their wallpaper? And what's MC's number saved as? Rn and later on in a relationship stage?

I remember answering something similar last year, but I can't find the photos from then. So...just gonna do it again.

❤️ Cam - He tends to switch it up. Sometimes he would have a candid of MC that he totally didn't take because he thought they looked good. Or, it's a photo of the two of them. For holidays, it's a holiday photo. Ugly Sweaters for Xmas, a costume for halloween. Then a very random photo of Cam wearing bunny ears in some short shorts for Easter, while MC holds the carrot. (Cam had bet MC and they lost so.) Cam has MC saved under Red, but it can change due to player choice.

But relationship Cam... relationship Cam has a photo that he is so proud to display but his desire to have MC to himself refuses to let him.

It begins just below MC's nose and cuts off at the edge of their waist. A silk sheet lays draped across their body, its delicate texture contrasting with the raw marks he has painted on their skin. Bite marks and hickeys across the parts that are visible. His hand cups their chin gently but possessively, with one finger hooked slightly under their lip, tugging it down just enough to reveal the soft flesh within. MC's lips would be agape, lips swollen and flushed.

💙 G - They claim they don't have a single photo of MC, but they actually have several. Even one from graduation when they were no longer talking. They don't have MC's current number, (yet), but if they did it would be of MC asleep while in the library studying, or curled up in their bed. They would save MC's name as their nickname.

One option for relationship stage G is: "My once and always"

G would use the graduation photo. It was bittersweet because they hadn’t been the one to make MC laugh that day. And they hadn’t stuck around long enough to notice how their expression fell when they looked for them, only to realize G was already gone. No goodbye.

G had taken the photo when no one was looking, back when they thought they’d never have the chance to see them again. Despite their hurt and stubbornness, they’d given in to the desire to remember—to hold onto what MC looked like when their face lit up, the way they could make the world fade away.

G still looked at that photo sometimes, especially on bad days. Especially after running into MC on the street. Because no matter how much they wanted to believe MC hadn’t changed... they had. And knowing they hadn’t been there to witness it, to experience it alongside them, killed a little part of G every time.

💚 Kara - It's an old photo from back when they worked together. Probably taken when Kara dragged MC to a night of drinks after a long day of work. She had talked MC into allowing her to take a photo for social media, but once she saw it she decided against it and kept it for herself. She has MC saved as "Babes or Boss" (That last one is full sarcasm for crushing stage Kara.)

She thought MC looked very free, they didn't have the expectations of work, of their family, or of Chris and their upcoming nuptials. For once they looked like someone who could finally breathe. MC was a different person when they worked, there was a quiet confidence in them back then. Not like now, and no matter how much she doesn't want to think/admit MC lost that bit of themselves after everything with Chris. So, she likes to think of MC from then, hoping to be able to see MC with that spark of confidence once more.

💛 M - They so badly want a photo of MC in a costume. But would settle for any. Relationship stage M would want a couple's photo or a still from one of the photo booths that they talked MC into going in on one of their dates. It looks so casual from an outside perspective, but in actuality M couldn't have been more nervous. They were falling all over themselves and so sure that they ruined the date. Only for a kiss at the end of the night.

Relationship stage M would want a photo of MC holding one of their books. To anyone else it's just a photo, but to M, it's so evocative and it excites them. A heavy lidded gaze full of desire... directed at the person behind the camera. At M.

M would save MC's number under "My Muse".

💜 Isaac - It would be a selfie MC sent them, when Isaac was trying their best not to care. To be as detached as possible, and yet they still saved that photo. It was like the first little sign that Isaac was growing attached, that MC was nothing like their sister. That Isaac had the capacity to care for someone after that. Though Isaac would totally be okay if it was a photo of MC in the back of their car.

Isaac would first save MC under 'not a model', a throwback to when Isaac very much thought otherwise when in Cam's studio. Relationship stage would be "My Anchor"

🖤 Ardent - 100% a photo of MC and Cupid, even before relationship stage. It would likely have been taken one of the many times MC had to bring Cupid back to him after she followed Cam home. (Cam The Cat Stealer Returns!) Now relationship stage, maybe a photo of the three of them. But if Ardent could get one of them and then including his niece... he would be like putty. That photo would be his wallpaper and screensaver. It would have been taken on one of their outings, probably to a fair when MC had to practically beg him to get on the rides. (Ardent will not admit the sound that came out of his mouth in the scare house. Nothing happened!)

I could see Ardent wanting a more sensual photo of MC, arms above their head and his hand holding their wrists. Or... probably his favorite. MC bent over his hand resting between their shoulders and their eyes closed in complete trust. Of course the photo ends before you can see their hips, or the way they're slotted together. There's a softness in MC’s expression, and in Ardent’s memory, the feeling of being in control, yet his emotions were anything but. He might have had a grip of the situation, but he didn't have one on how he felt.

MC is probably saved under "Brat" , "Trouble", or "Kitten".

[nyvora]

MARKS, A TALLY

simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

summary: she marks his absences in quiet dread until he appears, like he never left. wc: 1.5k tw: brief mention of smut. all fluff (or as much as can be with ghost) notes: to a special someone who told me i should write this man.

She once began a tally.

It started as one thing and became another. A routine. A single line added to the one before it as the kettle brewed—sometimes, another slid through four beside it, striking five.

Each strike of the marker felt like carving a notch into her ribs—every tally a scarred reminder of the hours, the days, the waiting.

She’d begun it as a countdown.

Her palm wiping them clean from the whiteboard stuck to the fridge. But then, one day, the board had been wiped, and he hadn’t come home. No answer. No call. Nothing. Just silence, silence, silence.

Now, she marks them to know exactly how long he’s been gone.

How many mornings she has woken with her chest tight, wondering if she still has someone who keeps their things in her drawers—or if she’s a widow, even though they’ve never said I do.

Today is day fifty-four.

It’s on a crisp morning she tells him.

The air cool enough to raise goosebumps, curling around the edges of the room like an uninvited guest whenever his leg slips free of the duvet.

Outside, the faint smell of rain lingers, mingling with the earthy scent of autumn leaves crushed underfoot, flowing in through the open window as tyres crunch on wet tarmac.

The bedroom is dark—or as dark as it can be, with a sliver of daylight slipping through the gap above the curtain pole. The curtains thrum in the gentle breeze, faint whispers of autumn threading into the room.

He thinks she’s waited for the moment, chosen it, plucked it as she does the flowers for the dining table.

Flowers he suspects she believes he doesn’t notice, though he always does. It’s a quiet game he likes, spotting the changes she’s made to their home between his absences.

Each room carries her touches—a throw draped carelessly over the sofa, the faint perfume of burnt candles or her diffusers tucked behind photo frames. His boots, lined neatly by the door, contrasted by the lived-in chaos of her side table: an open book with its spine cracked, a forgotten mug of tea with the faint shadow of a lipstick print.

He notes how she didn’t choose to say it when his hips were spreading her thighs, his fingers crooked inside her, or when the wet, obscene sounds of her body drowned out his guttural groans. She didn’t spill it as he pressed her knees to her chest, splitting her open on his cock, her breathless cries ricocheting between them—whining between short puffs of air as he fucked her senseless.

Nor did she murmur it in the lull after, cleaned up and calm, her head on his chest, fingers splayed over his scars as though her touch alone could heal him.

Ghost never tells her he thinks she could. Simon might, one day.

She says it when the clock aligns with her grumbling stomach, just before midday. Four words. Each syllable slices the air, leaving something heavy in its wake, thick and barbed with aching truth.

“I wait for you.”

The syllables sound like they claw their way up her throat, raw and jagged, like glass slicing her voice into fragments of a confession she’d kept buried too long. As though they claw their way past the guilt lodged there, scratching and bruising on their way to the surface.

He doesn’t look at her; there’s no point.

She won’t meet his eyes, anyway. He knows her too well, knows his reason.

The ring on her finger glints as the breeze pulls back the curtain, the fleeting autumn sunlight casting a soft glow over the bed.

Plus, he knows what she means. Hears the implication, feels the pain in her words—the longing she swallows when he slips into the cold side of the bed and warms it with his presence. He feels the heaviness in the air as though grief itself is drawing breath whenever he toes off his shoes and trades his uniform for the quieter rhythm of civilian life.

He suspects she liked it better when there was no when. When his returns were unmarked, unpromised. Now, he imagines her pacing, burning holes in the new flooring—peeling the skin from her lips until copper tinges her tongue, or biting her nails to the quick. She’d been a nail-biter when he first met her. In a laundrette, of all places.

She’d been gnawing at them, staring as the washing tumbled in the machine, soap suds smearing the glass. He wasn’t sure why he spoke to her—or why he kept speaking. Just as he wasn’t sure why he asked her name. You can call me Soap. I already know someone with that name, he’d snorted. Is it fake as well? she’d responded, brow up near her hairline. May as well be. There’d been quiet then, thick, until she said: Call me Suds, then—I’m not giving you my real name. Who washes clothes at three in the morning, anyway? A murderer?

You, he’d quipped.

She tenses against him now, the guilt of admission stiffening her spine. Not that she’ll say more. She’s too practised at burying things deep.

“Good,” he mutters, after a long stretch of silence. “Be fucking shit to come home and find you aren’t.”

Her laugh carries the tiniest fracture, a crack running along its edges—a shard of sunshine breaking through. “Y'know what I mean.”

He does, though the weight of it clings to him, a heavy mantle he’s never been able to shake. Her words settle in his chest, coiling around the parts of him that still believed he was more soldier than man.

He lets his lips twitch, just for himself. “Always gonna come home to you.”

“Hmm.”

She rolls away, sitting up. Her silhouette catches the faintest light as she pulls a shirt over her head. The fabric rustles against her skin as she grabs something from the bedside table—her phone, maybe, or her watch. The bed groans softly as she stands.

“Suds.”

“Simon.”

His smirk deepens as he stretches out, his head propped on one arm. He doesn’t reply, doesn’t need to.

“Your hair’s longer,” she notes from the en-suite doorway.

It’s his turn to hum, sitting up, arms draped over his thighs as he watches her shadowed form. Every curve of her—even her eyes—catch the dim light.

“You want me to—?”

“I want you to come back to bed.”

She goes silent, words swallowed back behind her too-kind smile and soft lips. But she doesn’t move, doesn’t slither back over or pad over or even walk.

“Why?”

It’s barely a whisper, a confession wrapped in a question.

He doesn’t answer at first. Just sighs, his gaze tracing her outline.

“Why do you want me to come back to bed, Simon?”

So I can hold you. It rises in his mind, clear as breath.

He thinks of the lists he makes—promises to himself to keep his blood inside his skin, to stay sharp, to fight another day. The one that keeps him awake when tiredness threatens to steal him and what makes him break bones rather than risk a gun fight.

Another man might have said it. Might have turned it into poetry, wrapped it in honeyed words to soothe her fears.

But he’s not that man. He’s a man forged in violence, shaped by anger.

Still, she makes him better. Not good, not entirely. But better. At some point, he hadn’t been sure he was even a man, more a monster—a thing shaped by trauma and dressed by anger. Now, she’s the reason he sleeps at all, in this bed far too large for them both, cluttered with too many cushions. The same bed where she curls into him, small and fragile, and unwinds the knots in her soul with a nap.

The truth clings to his tongue, ready to spill.

“Because I bloody missed you.”

It comes out wrong, even if it’s right.

She snorts softly, burying her laugh. But then she moves, her shadow nearing until the mattress dips, and his hand finds her wrist. His thumb brushes her pulse—a steady beat, a constant reminder: Alive. Alive. Alive.

“Missed you too.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, her lips brushing his shoulder before she settles against him. “Only a little. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Silence stretches, warm and comfortable, as the house exhales around them. His thumb grazed her wrist, the steady thrum of her heartbeat pounding against his touch—a fragile promise: Alive. Here. Mine.

“I can miss you and still be happy you’re doing something you love, you know?” she murmurs, her hand tightening on his arm.

He presses his lips to her forehead in reply. Two words, five letters, unspoken yet clear: I know.

[victoryarchive]

Ok. I’ll bite. Hermit! Tommy? Because that looks an awful lot like a really cool Watcher au something? Please share!

Omg if you insist lmao

Buckle up this is gonna be a lot.

This all started when I was thinking about Greek mythology (a common occurrence I fear) and I was thinking how even though Helios is the sun and the god of the sun many people these days assign that role to Apollo (the god of light). And that got me thinking more and more about how as time progresses stories change and gods become gods of things they never were before. New gods exist. Old ones are completely forgotten. Their names change. Look at Roman mythology for a great example of this.

And because I’m one hell of a nerd this immediately translated to ‘how can I use this in fan fiction’

Another thing you must know about me is I hate to fall back on Minecraft mechanics, it feels lazy for me to do it (it’s fine to read I just hate writing it) and must always find a way to make things like respawn and different worlds fit into the lore of the story.

Thus began the world building:

Every watcher is a god of something, Xelqua/Grian: the sun, Pearl: the moon, Kristin: The underworld, XD: [redacted], etc. Each watcher has the ability to create a world (or multiple depending on their power) for their people to live (Grian: hermitcraft, Pearl: Empires, Kristin: the Antarctic Empire, XD: the DSMP, etc) Within these worlds it is very common practice for the Watchers to choose a devoted follower to give a small portion of their power to oversee their world, to make rules and keep everyone safe, an Admin. (Grian: Xisuma, Pearl: fWhip, Kristin: Philza, XD: Dream, etc.)

Now none of these watchers just spawned as watchers, no they became watchers through people worshipping them and writing stories about them as gods. These stories held power so the person held power and became essentially immortal and can do pretty much anything with that power, at least until they are forgotten.

So far the story begins with Xelqua brining his players back from their silly death game and being intercepted by a very very old goddess, one who had almost been completely forgotten. This primordial goddess is peace, not just the goddess of peace, she is peace. She is called Prime. She asks Grian and Xisuma to take her last worshipper and devotee, Tommy, and protect him from another Watcher. And with a little bit of convincing Grian’s like ‘yeah fine ig I’ll take the kid. How difficult can one child be.’

Now that’s as far as I’ve written aside from the beginning backstory stuff, but I’ve got a lot of stuff planned, including an entire few chapters inspired by ‘god games’ from epic the musical, where Grian has to go fight for some mortals life. One of them. I know which one. Yall don’t :)

There’s also a lot of Grian and Pearl back story from when they were kids and still mortal like thousands and thousands of years ago and how they eventually became literal gods.

Tommy learns how friends are supposed to work and gets mentored by none other than Mumbo Jumbo, or Impulse i haven’t decided yet. The only thing I know about Minecraft is redstone so he’s learning redstone.

Also it would be a damn shame for me to not include False and Tommy flying together a bunch bc they’re the only to avians that can match each others speed.

There’s some stuff going on with techno being an admin on an anarchy server. He comes in later in an absolute rage.

Also Joel is a demigod… it makes sense I swear.

I’m having a lot of fun playing around with the world building and each individual characters back story so I will expand on anything if people ask about it :))))

Thank you for asking this has been fun

[wondergirlsthings]

Jobe’s Struggle

Jude Bellingham x Reader

Jobe Bellingham had always been the quiet one in the family. His older brother, Jude, had always been in the spotlight, and Jobe found comfort in staying in the background. But lately, there was something that kept him on edge—something he couldn’t shake off.

It wasn’t the usual brotherly rivalry. It wasn’t even the attention that Jude got from being such a prominent footballer. No, this was different. It was her—Y/N, his brother’s girlfriend.

Y/N had been a close family friend for years. She was kind, funny, and always made everyone feel comfortable. Jobe had always appreciated her presence, but lately, he noticed something had shifted. It wasn’t just friendship anymore—his feelings had grown into something more complicated. And that terrified him.

It started with small things. The way she smiled at him a little longer than usual. The way they had become closer friends, sharing conversations that seemed to stretch into deeper, more personal territory. He tried to ignore it. He told himself it was just his mind playing tricks. After all, she was with Jude, and he respected their relationship.

But the feelings didn’t fade. They only grew stronger. Jobe found himself distracted, unable to focus fully when they were all together. He would catch himself staring at her when she wasn’t looking, and guilt would rush through him, followed by the realization that this wasn’t just admiration—it was something more.

One evening, after a long day of training, Jobe was in the kitchen, mindlessly scrolling through his phone when a text from Y/N popped up on the screen. She had sent him a message asking if he wanted to grab dinner with her and Jude later. It was innocent enough, but the way the words caught in his throat told him that things weren’t as simple as they seemed.

His thumb hovered over the screen, unsure of how to reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hang out with them, but every time he was around Y/N, it felt like there was an unspoken tension in the air. It wasn’t just the usual family dynamic—it felt… different. And he didn’t know what to do with it.

Before he could type a response, the door creaked open, and Jude walked in. He looked at Jobe for a moment, taking in his younger brother’s expression.

“You good?” Jude asked, noticing the way Jobe was staring at his phone, a furrow in his brow.

Jobe hesitated. He didn’t want to bring up what had been bothering him. He didn’t want to make it awkward between him and his brother, but at that moment, it felt like he had no choice.

“I don’t know, man,” Jobe muttered, finally looking up. “I think I’ve developed feelings for Y/N.”

There was a long pause, and Jobe’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t sure what he expected—anger, confusion, maybe even a sense of betrayal. But instead, Jude sat down across from him, exhaling slowly as if he had anticipated this moment.

“I had a feeling,” Jude said quietly, his voice calm. “You’ve been acting a little different around her lately. But I wasn’t sure if it was just… you know, you being close with her.”

Jobe’s heart pounded in his chest. “I never meant for it to happen. I don’t want to mess things up, Jude. I really don’t want to hurt you, or Y/N.”

Jude looked at him seriously, his expression softening. “Jobe, I know it’s complicated. But you have to remember, she’s with me. And that’s something you can’t change. We’ve been together for a while, and I care about her a lot.”

Jobe nodded, guilt creeping over him. “I know. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. I just… I don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

Jude leaned forward, his eyes full of understanding. “The best thing you can do is to respect her relationship with me, and take care of yourself. It’s okay to have feelings, but you need to be responsible about them. I’ve always been here for you, Jobe. And I’ll always have your back.”

Jobe took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. Jude’s words didn’t erase his feelings, but they helped him see the situation more clearly. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all his brother, and he knew that he had to find a way to move forward, even if that meant keeping his emotions in check.

Later that night, Jobe joined Jude and Y/N for dinner, trying his best to act normal. Y/N greeted him with her usual warm smile, but Jobe couldn’t shake the undercurrent of confusion within him. He tried to push his feelings aside, focusing on the conversation and being present in the moment.

As the night went on, Jobe realized that this wasn’t going to be easy. His feelings for Y/N didn’t simply disappear because of a conversation with Jude. But he knew that he couldn’t let them dictate his actions. He had to focus on respecting his brother’s relationship and his own growth as a person.

For now, he would take things one step at a time. He’d stay true to himself, be there for his brother, and eventually, he hoped that his feelings would become something he could manage. The road ahead wasn’t clear, but with Jude’s support and his own determination, Jobe was willing to figure it out.

And maybe, just maybe, in time, he’d be able to let go of what was holding him back and find peace within himself.

[wowzees]

no matter what

lando norris x reader

y/n is not used!

a/n: this is a short story from uni- i have to make a collection of them

the one i posted earlier was also one, but these have not recived feedback from my professer or have been majorly edited. enjoy!

High school felt like the longest four years of my life. Days blurred into each other, routines became a way of life, and I thought I had everything figured out. I was one of those kids who had his group of friends, the sport he played, and the classes he took, all laid out in a neat, predictable order. Nothing ever really changed.

And then, there was her.

She’d been there from the start. The girl who wasn’t just a friend,she was something more, though I never said it out loud. We’d grown up together, laughed at the same inside jokes, gotten in trouble for the same stupid things. She knew me better than anyone else, maybe even better than I knew myself. She was the one I could count on for anything. She was the one who could make me laugh on days when nothing felt right. When life got heavy, when there was uncertainty about my future, she was the one I turned to. And I thought that would never change. Or maybe I didn’t think about it at all. Why would I need to? She was always there, like a constant in my life, something I could rely on. But looking back, I see the warning signs. Small things that I chose not to notice. 

At first, it was little things— how she stopped coming to my house after school everyday. How she stopped calling me for big milestones. It’s easy to ignore changes like that. Until they hit you all at once. And then, it was too late.

Without her presence, I started hanging out with the kids from my soccer team more, and more. I told them about all my problems with her. Their solution? They wanted me to prank her. I wanted to fit in. So, I agreed.

Maybe I was too busy with soccer, or maybe I just took her for granted. But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing her the way I always had. I saw how my actions hurt her. But, somewhere along the way i stopped seeing that. I stopped seeing how my actions hurt her.

But I didn’t think much about it at the time. After all, things had always worked themselves out between us, right? I guess I never thought I’d lose her, guess I thought that she’d always be there.

How wrong I was.

And seeing her now after graduation, getting ready to go to college and saying goodbye to friends for one last time, I can't help but remember a time when things were so much simpler.

Age, 7. Grade, 2

“Lan, wait up” she yelled, peddling her feet. I slowed my bike down and turned to face her. 

“Hurry up! You're being slow.” she peddled faster. Too fast. I watched in slow motion as she rides over a rock, flies through the air as if it’s molasses, then falls in what seems the same way a feather falls through the air. Then promptly crashes into a trashcan, scattering trash all around and on top of her. 

I quickly stopped my bike and ran to her. She was sitting there, covered in trash from the trash can, pouting. As I stood over her, and saw her covered in trash, I almost laughed. “Stop! It’s really not funny” she sniffled, though she now seemed a little happier. 

“I've bin waiting for this to happen” I joke, hoping to make her laugh.

“It's really not that funny” she snorts while giggling.

 “Yeah, well you’re still laughing” I argue. As she struggles to her feet, I realize I should probably help her. As I move to put her arm around my shoulder, she shoves me off. 

“I don't need your help, butthead” she says, crossing her arms and stares at me with her lips pursed. 

“Sorry, man, chill.” I say, not really understanding why she didn't want help. 

“I got worse when I first started playing volleyball, it's just a little scrape on my knee. It’ll heal” 

"Ok "I mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

As we walked home, we talked about silly things, like how funny she looked covered in trash, or about the people we didn't like at school. Before we parted ways, she threw her arms around me and pressed a quick, fleeting kiss that was gone as soon as it started to my cheek. “Bye Lando! I'll see you tomorrow at school!” she said over her shoulder as she ran home.

“Bye” I yell, after she had already disappeared into the house, my cheeks still red.

She had always been brave in her own way. Whether it was running into a trash can then getting back up with a skinned knee and no tears, or hiding her fears behind that stubborn smile of hers, she never changed. She was always the same, brave girl I had known since I was a kid. I wish I had known then how much that bravery would change the course of our friendship.

Age, 12  Grade 7.

The ferris wheel creaked more and more the higher up it went, carrying us higher, and higher into the night sky. Below we could see the rest of the fair, all the people enjoying themselves just like we are.

Her posture was slumped, and she was practically shaking on the little metal bench that lines the side of the carriage.

“Are you scared?” I ask. This wasn't a very normal occurrence, and I was honestly a little surprised. 

“What? Me? No! Of course not. I don't get scared” she responded, her voice shaky, and honestly not very convincing. 

“Hey, it's okay if you are scared. We all have things we are scared of; it doesn't make you weak.” I say in a soft tone, understanding when to tease and when to be comforting. 

“I'm not scared.”

“Yeah? Good, me neither. Honestly, it's really nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice being up here.”

“I guess it is pretty nice.”

“It's really pretty,” I say with a sigh.

“It is,” she responds with an airy voice.

Little did I know that while I was staring at the sky, she was looking at me.

Ever since that night on the ferris wheel, I had developed a liking for stars. She learned more about stars for me, though I didn't know that then. I thought it was just a coincidence, not something carefully planned. Ever since then, we would spend nights under the stars together, gazing upwards.

Age, 15. Grade 9.

“And that one’s named Altair” she said, pointing up at the brightest star in the sky.

“How do you know this?” I ask while chuckling.

“I learned it when I was in 8th grade for my science fair project. I won.”

“I know, you’ve only told me like a million times.”

“I have not!”

“Uh, yes you have.”

“Excuse yo- wow, it's like, really cold.”

“Here,” I say, shrugging my sweatshirt off. “Take it.”

“No, it's fine really. I don't need it, I’m fine.”

“If you don't take it, I’m actually gonna go insane!”

“Fine” she huffed, sticking her tongue out at me. “Thank you.” she mumbled.

“You're welcome.”

“Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“We'll always be best friends, right?”

“Of course we will. No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

Back then, No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep. Before our future became closer and closer, before I found out she would be going to Yale. No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep under the soft lighting of the stars, but under the fluorescent lights in the highschool hallways, and the pressure from the guys, the promise broke apart. 

“Hey Lan!” she exclaims, coming up to me “Hey,” I respond. “Where are your glasses?” I ask. She has always loved her glasses. She always said it gave her more personality, though I disagree. She has plenty of personality already. 

“Oh, I just switched to contacts for volleyball! It's too impractical to have to play without being able to see, ya know? Do you like them?” I actually think that she looks stunning with or without glasses, but since my friends from the soccer team are with me, I just say 

“ I dunno man, it kinda makes your eyes look too close together.” I feel absolutely terrible as I practically see her deflate. Her normally radiant smile disappears, her shoulders begin to tremble, and her eyes go glassy. At first, she didn't say anything. I could practically see her brain thinking of ways to respond. She was trying to act relaxed about it, but I knew her well. She doesn't do relaxed about these types of things.

 I hear the boys snickering from behind me, making stupid comments about how “he is so right” and “how can she not see that herself?” and “why does she talk so much?”. I'm actually about to turn around and tell them to shut up, and that I am the only one allowed to tease her like that, but before I can, she says something.

“Oh. Well, uh, I should be going to class. I'll see you later, Lando,” she mumbles. Her normally confident posture seemed impossibly timid and shy. Her posture didn't say ‘see you later’.  It said ‘leave me alone’.

While she walked down the hallway, the only thing I could focus on was the fact that she didn't call me Lan .

The next few days, I tried finding her, though she kept on avoiding me. Finally, I found her sitting outside at the tables, eating her lunch alone.

“Hey” I greet softly, sitting down at the table outside. 

“What do you want?” she responded, her tone sharp. She was wearing her glasses again.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said on Tuesday.” I say, barely audible.

“If you're going to say something, say it louder.”

“I wanted to apologize for what I said.” 

“Do you? Do you really? Or is this just another sick prank you and your friends are playing on me, huh? I stood there and took it in tenth grade, when you made fun of my brother, who, by the way looks up to you, in the cafeteria. I stood there and took it in eleventh grade when you texted everyone from my phone things that I would never, ever say about someone and especially TO someone, posted things on instagram that I would NEVER post, and then humiliated me by making me think that you were seriously hurt, then jump up and say “it's a prank” after i started crying? I even stood there and took it when you told me that my eyes were too close together! The one thing you know I'm insecure about, and you make fun of it? You’ve changed Lando! You and your stupid friends have made high school horrible for me! And even though you've been rude, and you've been mean, and you've in general been a nightmare to be around, I'm still in love with you, and I have been for the last 10 years! And I'm done with this! I will not, will not sit here and let you bully me because I’m your ‘best friend’! I stayed your friend because I thought you would notice me! I thought you would realize, but you didn't! And I’m done waiting, okay? I’m done. Bye, Lando.”

By now, she was crying. Before I could respond to her and apologize, I hear laughing and jeering coming from behind me. I turn around and march over to where the boys are standing. They chuckle upon seeing me, and I absolutely lose it.

“Are you guys actually stupid? You made me lose the most important thing in my life, because you ‘thought it would be funny’? She is worth more than you guys will ever be. She was a better friend, a better athlete, but most importantly, a better person than you guys! I’m done with y’all.” 

I turn back to where she was standing, but she's not there anymore.

The next few days, I look for her. I see her a couple of times, but she always manages to avoid me. 

One night, as I’m packing for college, I hear someone knocking on the front door.

I run down the stairs, thinking it’s the pizza I ordered for me and my sister, but it’s not. It’s her.

“Uhm, I just wanted to return this.” she says, handing me my sweatshirt that i gave to her 3 years ago. “I just thought I should return it before I leave for Yale.”

“When do you leave?” I ask, fearing the answer.

“Tomorrow.” 

The second I hear that word, my world stops. I hazily thank her for bringing the sweatshirt back, then slam the door. I vaguely remember stumbling up the stairs, and sitting down on my bed, my mind running a thousand miles a minute.

 I’m going to have to live without the person who was there for me at every problem, at every bad game, at every milestone in my life, and I lost her because of my own mistakes. I lost her because I let those stupid kids influence my decisions. I lost her because I didn't know how to communicate my feelings. And now, I’ll never get her back.

I was right. I never got her back. And deep down inside, I knew I was never going to get her back. I knew this when I met Emma. I knew this when I proposed to Emma. I knew this when I invited her to our wedding. But that truly, did not prepare me for when I saw her.

“And do you, Lando Norris, take Emma Sand to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish till death do you part? ” asked the priest, his voice echoing through the church that held all of our friends and loved ones. 

“ I do.” 

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see her, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. After years of knowing her,  I could almost hear her thinking ‘that should have been me.’

And I feel horrible and disgusting and gross thinking this on my wedding day, but I'm inclined to agree. It should have been her. And it would have been, if not for my own stupidity.

And seeing her, brought me right back to all those years ago. And made me wonder; what happened to ‘no matter what.’

[suzie-guru]

Ten Petals

“Hmmm…you know, it’s pretty clever.” 

He cocked his head at his Queen, the slight movement making a crickle-crack that had grown more pronounced in his middle age. “What? The fact that our spawn managed to annoy us whilst also celebrating our romance?” 

“Annoy you,” she retorted, but it was with a smile. “I’m perfectly happy to receive flowers from our kids.”

He groaned, casting a half-heartedly withering glare at the delicate pink petals of the two primroses before them. “But these blasted blooms? They know how I feel about them.”

Her golden eyes, still so so brilliant and beautiful and bold even with the slight wrinkles around them, softened. “They also know that because of them, because of the Potion they make, because of everything that happened…we met.”

He was silent at that, thinking it over. There…was a seed of truth to that. Instead of both of their lives being broken and bitter because of their heartbreaks on their respective Fateful Days…

…this flower had brought them together one Fateful Night. 

“And I was talking about it something else, actually.” She touched his shoulder and pointed. “Look. Primroses have five petals each. Two primroses…”

“…ten petals altogether,” he finished, the realization dawning on him. 

“Ten years together.” Her smile was a soft slant. “Like I said, clever. Or cute, but don’t tell them I said that.”

“Cute works for this,” he chuckled, feeling far more fond of their children’s gift. Five children, the strange and magical offspring of Forest and Fields, five petals on a primrose…how appropriate. Yes, he definitelyappreciated the gift far more. 

“And for you,” Marianne declared, eyes tender and her smile teasing. “You scaly backed cockroach.” 

“Likewise, Tough Girl,” Bog replied, pulling her to him with the purr of a growl that had never failed to make flowers of fire bloom in her blood. 

Their kiss was deep and sweet, full of feeling and fierce with devotion. Ten years of healing hearts, of warm wickedness, of a love neither thought they could ever have…

The petals to mark their years together would grow, but their love?

That was endless.  ________________

Ten years ago, I experienced Strange Magic for the first time, and my life was never the same again.

I started sharing fanfic and fanart for the first time, and the friends I’ve met and made thanks to this movie have changed my life. This movie is strange and sweet and vibrantly its own beautiful creature, and it will always have a place in my heart.

Happy 10th Anniversary, Strange Magic. You make my heart sing… 💜

[cakerybakery]

Lucifer was more of a tea guy, but after last night he poured himself a cup of coffee into his ‘Ducks of North America’ mug. Then he got down a mug for Adam and made him a cup of the caffeine free coffee.

He and Adam had been up most of the night.

There was a groggy little, “daddy?” As Charlie wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How are you feeling?” He set down the mugs and moved towards his little girl.

“Bad.”

He just about reached her when ‘bad’ was spewed onto the linoleum.

“Definitely no school today.” Lucifer was already going to keep her home just incase one of her brothers passed the flu onto her. And it seems they had.

She groaned and wrapped her arms around her tummy, sinking down to the floor and wrenching again.

It kicked him into high gear. Lucifer picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He washed her face and helped her rinse out her mouth.

Carefully he helped her undress and put her in a warm shower to make sure she didn’t have any puke on her. He brushed her long wet hair and put it in a quick braid to keep it out of her face if she threw up again. Then took her back to bed.

As she slowly put on a new nightgown, Lucifer changed her sheets to so they would feel fresh and clean. He put her back to bed and went to get an old ice cream bucket, lining it was paper towel to avoid splash back.

Carrying the bundle of sheets and the dirty clothing to the apartment’s in suite laundry, he passed Adam who was in the kitchen, scrubbing the floors.

“Oh, Adam. You should be in bed.”

After finally getting their boys settled around three in the morning, Adam had started to look a little green around the gills himself before spending the next hour curled up in the bathroom.

“It needs doing.” Adam grunted.

Lucifer sighed and finished his task. Adam was always like this. Insisting he had to do stuff or he felt useless. Lucifer tried to assure him that he wasn’t useless, that taking care of the kids all day was contributing. But there was a lot of unpacked baggage in Adam’s brain from his strict religious upbringing.

When they started looking into having kids they had settled on surrogacy pretty easily. Using donated eggs and an agency they ended up with Charlotte and Cain. Fraternal twins, and while they hadn’t wanted to know who the biological father was or each twin. It was rather clear. Cain was Adam’s double as much as Charlotte was his. They had to turn off their phones’ facial recognition stuff because the twins had started to be able to get into their phones and between the two of them bought about fifty bucks worth of in app purchases in a game.

Originally they had planned for Adam to take six weeks off work before putting the twins in daycare. It lasted a day before Lucifer found Adam, shut in a closet to hide as he cried. He hated every second of returning to work and putting their babies in daycare.

In their bedroom closet, the door shut so it was dark and Adam felt safe to express his feelings, they talked about options.

Lucifer came from a well off family. He had a trust fund he could tap into if Adam would rather have a nanny. But Adam quietly admitted while it was better, that it made his guts twist at the idea of wasting money on a nanny just because he was too weak to be away from his babies longer than he needed to be.

So Lucifer suggested Adam stay at home and care of their children. Adam’s heart wanted that, but Adam admitted it made him feel lazy. The six weeks he’d already been at home instead of earning money to pay for his share of things was bringing out feelings of shame.

The bits of his parents scolding Adam for playing house with his sisters and tending to the pretend babies instead of playing sports with the neighbourhood boys came to mind. Little bits of his father bitching that dinner was late because his mother had spent the day caring for sick children instead of making his food. The casual remarks that his sisters shouldn’t be thinking of college, rather of finding a husband from their church group. Their parents never understood why both girls cut them off once they got out.

It had taken a lot to get Adam to even admit he liked men, despite the frantic kissing in their dorm room and the weeks of making love. Lucifer had been with him every step of the way since. They got their first apartment together when Adam was disowned at twenty after telling his parents. When they got married, Lucifer’s parents bought them their current apartment. Each time, Adam had a little freak out about not being the man his parents expected of him.

Eventually they did settle on Adam quitting his job as an accountant and being a stay at home parent. But Adam put a lot of pressure on himself to be the perfect parent and stay at home spouse.

Some days, when Lucifer comes home from work and the place is a mess, dinner hasn’t even been started, and the kids are screaming and running around, Adam flinches like he’s expecting Lucifer to be upset. Lucifer couldn’t care less though.

He grew up with nannies and maids, a professional chef making dinners. His mother spent half her days doing whatever she fancied and the other half playing with the kids or taking them on outings. Lucifer’s father was a workaholic. He was always keeping busy. He had liked being up at five am to have meetings with people halfway around the globe, then casually did paperwork at breakfast. He worked until five pm sharp. Then turned his focus on his family. Engaging his always working mind on helping with homework or their activities. He liked working and made his family his hobby job, giving himself tasks like reading bedtime stories instead of reports.

Currently, Lucifer was still working his way up through his father’s company, but in another ten years or so, when his father retired and would fill his day with hobbies and grandchildren instead, Lucifer was slated to take over. His paycheque was more than enough to cover all their expenses. These days he wouldn’t even have to dip into his trust to pay for the help he grew up with.

Adam couldn’t be swayed though. He needed to contribute if he wasn’t working and felt like he needed to take care of everything himself around the house.

Lucifer went to the kitchen and pulled Adam to his feet. Adam was huffing, red from a fever, and constantly coughing. “You’re going to bed.”

“But, the kids. Charlie will be up soon.”

“Charlie is sick too. I already put her back to bed. All three boys are in their beds sleeping.” He half carried Adam, who was too weak from cleaning to do more than protest. “You need rest too.” He manhandled Adam back into bed. Fed him cold medicine to help him sleep. Then left him in the darkened room to rest.

Looking around the messy apartment, Lucifer decided he needed help. He called his mom.

Sera showed up half an hour later with a chef and a small barrage of maids behind her. The chef took stock of everything in the kitchen, made a list of ingredients, and left. The small army of maids cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. Disinfecting as they went.

Lucifer took a quick nap on the couch as Sera checked on the children and Adam.

A little rest and the toddlers were back to causing, carefully managed by nana Sera, chaos.

As lunch rolled around and their home filled with the smells of fresh baked biscuits and chicken noodle soup, Adam woke up. He was grumbly about the help but he couldn’t argue with a belly full of delicious homemade food, a lemony smelling bathroom as he took a shower, and fresh clean linens as he crawled back into bed for another nap.

Lucifer and Sera got all the kids bathed, fed, and put back to bed for their own naps.

Once the apartment was cleaned, the maid were done for the day and they and chef went home.

Sera then sent Lucifer to bed himself, promising to stay until everyone was feeling better. He reminded her they didn’t have a guest room and she scoffed.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, darling.” She shooed him off to bed. “Wouldn’t be the worst place I’ve slept.”

It took a couple days, and Lucifer getting sick as well in the meanwhile, but everyone was better.

Adam settled on the couch and sighed happily. “This is nice.”

“Hmm, it is.” Lucifer agreed as he cuddled into Adam’s side. The kids in their clean beds. “Can we talk about getting a maid service now?”

“Lucifer,” Adam groaned. “You know how I feel.”

“I do. And I keep telling you, it’s okay not to do everything yourself. Just once a week. Someone can come in and do a deep clean while we take the kids to the park or something.”

Adam looked like he wanted to say no, but looking around the once more scrubbed clean apartment, Adam seemed torn.

“You take care of two sets of twins. How you didn’t go crazy when Abel and Seth were born and you had Charlie and Cain still underfoot all day, I’ll never know.” Lucifer kissed Adam. “Darling, you don’t have to be alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have you.”

“Yeah. And I called my mommy for help. I’m just saying, you don’t need to burn yourself out to prove you deserve a place in this home. Please. Let me get a maid, or a chef, or a nanny. Someone.”

Adam thought for a long time before sighing. “Fine.”

Lucifer grinned. Adam was pouting about it now. But he’d come around. Sera and Lucifer never told Adam, but there was a reason she often popped around while their second set of newborns came home. If Adam suspected anything more than wanting grandma cuddles, he never said anything and just enjoyed that she often ordered out large meals when she was visiting. Leaving the leftovers so that Adam could more easily feed their toddlers and himself without having to cook on the days she wasn’t there.

They still had to decide what kind of help to get, but he’d leave it up to Adam to figure out what he was comfortable with. All Lucifer wanted was for his family to be happy. He wanted more evenings with his husband in his arms. Normally, Adam would still be cleaning, insisting that Lucifer not help. This was much better.

“You know what I really want to do, darling?” Lucifer asked in a husky tone.

“Go to bed for the night?” Adam teased.

“You know me so well.” Now that everyone was better, things had calmed down, and Lucifer just really wanted to go to bed early and wake up in the morning feeling refreshed.

Adam switched off the TV, and they went to bed.

[artstennisracket]

since artrick rekindles a few months before the pandemic, do you have any quarantined art/patrick ideas?

maybe the got stuck in a hotel away from tashi and lily and had to spend it just the two of them! bc they haven’t lived together for more than a decade, they noticed new/different things about the other!

this was such smart thinking cuz I registered that new rochelle was 2019 but it didn’t really hit me that it was like right before covid. I hope you enjoy!!!!

cw: just yapping fr, a little fluffy i suppose

They had just finished up training that day on their home court. Well, Patrick was training. Art was more supervising since Tashi was preoccupied at fashion week in Paris. She went with Lily and her mom to make her work trip into more of a girls trip. Now that Art was retired, he filled in on coaching Patrick whenever Tashi had other commitments.

The day before Tashi, Lily, and her mom were scheduled to come back home to LA from Paris but their flight was delayed until it was eventually canceled. Art and Patrick were chilling in their bedroom when they got a text to their group chat, not coming home tonight flights canceled because of covid? extending our hotel stay.

The boys didn’t think much of it, at most they assumed the girls would be back within the week. They were so wrong.

They absentmindedly had the news on the TV in the background, until Patrick turned the volume up. Global pandemic? Quarantine? It’s like-

“-the whole world is shutting down? i didn’t realize this was that serious.” Patrick says

Art looks up from his phone, tuning in “oh wow, they’re also stopping all air travel so that means the girls will be in Paris for a while.”

“wait that’s insane.” Patrick says, eyes glued to the TV.

“ya I think we’re gonna have to hold off on your training schedule for a few days” Art says looking back at his phone as he starts texting.

Fast forward two weeks, Patrick did eventually start training again but with Art as his fill in coach. The girls were still stuck in Paris and the boys were left all alone in the house.

It’s been a very long time since Art and Patrick lived together, let alone living together just the two of them. It had only been a short amount of time that had passed since the New Rochelle challenger so they were still just adjusting to their new arrangement.

They were also learning themselves all over again. Patrick prides himself in being the one person in planet earth who knew Art inside and out. But he wasn’t sure if that was true anymore. Art is different now, he’s older, he’s not 18 anymore.

Even if it was only small changes, they were still big to Patrick. Like for example, in the morning Art used to make his bed before he showered, but lately Patrick’s noticed that Art will make the bed afterwards. But maybe that’s just because Patrick is usually still in bed when Art’s showering.

Another change Patrick noticed was that Art only really eats in the kitchen. When they were younger, Art would eat in their bed all the time. Especially when they got high and got the munchies. But now as an adult, he never eats on the bed, or on the couch. He says that “crumbs just get everywhere.” Pft. Patrick still eats wherever he wants.

Art is still very disciplined like he was back in school but once Patrick moved in he noticed Art is almost like a machine. He follows his food schedule (6 meals a day, two being protein shakes), his hydration schedule (never just water, always some electrolyte mix), workout schedule (training 6 days a week, gym 6 days a week) and his physio schedule (stretching and pt also 6 days a week).

His only rest day was Sunday and even that was an active rest day, making sure he kept his body moving even if it was just walking around their neighborhood. Honestly it was kind of hot.

But then Art retired after the US Open. He was still disciplined but he had a little more wiggle room. Less intensive meal plan (he could eat burgers and ice cream again), less training (now he’s just Patrick’s hitting partner), and he made his own gym routine that he follows just to stay healthy. He definitely put on a little weight but he was still very hot to Patrick.

Of course there were a lot of things that were still the same. Like how they argue over dumb shit. Last week it was because Patrick didn’t put the toilet seat down (typical). This week was no different.

“patrick can you please stop leaving empty containers in the fridge?” Art asks picking up the empty milk container in the fridge. He was going to make a smoothie but then realized the milk was empty…

“teah, yeah I will.” Patrick replies nonchalantly, he was very invested in the video game he was playing.

Art rolls his eyes, he knows Patrick isn’t listening “did you even hear what I said?”

Patrick responds with his eyes still glued to the TV screen, very focused on this game, “yes babe, your ass has always looked that good.”

Art scoffs, picking up the TV remote to turns it off, “patrick seriously, it’s annoying stop leaving empty containers in the fridge.”

Patrick sighs, sad his game had been turned off, “how did you even know it was me? could’ve been someone else.”

Art crosses his arms in front of his chest making a “really?” face, “it’s just us here. who else could it be? A ghost?”

Patrick nods, “you never know, those celestial beings may be the culprit.”

A few months later, it started to set in that this pandemic would be longer than anticipated. They couldn’t believe the girls were still stuck in Paris. Both Art and Patrick were starting to really miss Lily and Tashi but they would facetime.

Art was starting to go a little insane. He couldn’t go to the store, go to movies, travel, he couldn’t do anything and his main interactions were only with Patrick. Which he didn’t mind, but it gets to a point.

Patrick was starting to realize that Art was spiraling. Art wasn’t following his routine as strictly anymore and he couldn’t really make himself comfortable anywhere in the house. It was like he couldn’t sit still. So Patrick figured he could use a distraction.

Patrick goes to find Art. He’s in the living room reading a book. “hey can you come with me for a second?”

Art nods. “what’s up?”

“ikay close your eyes and i’m going to guide you.” Patrick says.

Art stands up closing his eyes, “are you going to kidnap me and kill me in my home?”

“dammit, how’d you know?” Patrick chuckles, leading Art by his wrist outside.

He walks to an open area on the lawn in their backyard, “okay you can open your eyes now.”

Art opens his eyes to see two mini easels and canvases set up with a set of acrylic paint. A blanket is laid down on the grass along with takeout from Art’s favorite thai place.

Art gasps, “h-how did- when did you do all this?”

Patrick shrugs, “i ordered some stuff from amazon and the thai place recently opened back up for takeout only so i had that delivered too.”

Art turns to engulf Patrick in a big hug. He buries his face in Patrick’s shoulder and mumbles, “thank you, i- i don’t know what to say.”

“anything for you babe, and it’s okay all you have to say is ‘thank you patrick you are the love of my life and my one and only soulmate, your big dick is the only thing I need in this life’ and that will do it.” Patrick smiles, ruffling his hand through Art’s hair.

Art scoffs pulling out of the hug. He goes to sit down in front of one of the easels, “okay zweig, in your dreams.”

Patrick smirks going to sit down next to him, “that’s not what you said last night.”

[gyaruhana]

oh my goodness I think I just turned into the happiest sapphic ever 😝😝 thank you so much for accepting my weird love for player 044 but anywho once you have time and feel like it I desperately need you to write hc's about her w a easily manipulated reader who believes in everything player 044 says and is sooo blindly in love and how a relationship would basically be with my sexy evil old powerful shaman wife 😼

also may I be ' 🐘' anon ? 🙂‍↕️

Seon-nyeo/Player 044 - easily manipulated!reader headcannons

Synopsis: Seon-nyeo with an easily manipulated reader..

A/N: first time writing for this character.. hopefully i serve her right !! also, yes you can be 🐘anon!

Warnings: manipulation, NOT PROOFREAD..

➠ To you, Seon-Nyeo was your savior.

➠ Someone who could protect during these deadly games and you may have immediately started relying on her..

➠ Seon-Nyeo was very much on board with how easily you trust her and didn't waste a second to keep you by her side along with the other few that followed her around

➠ she's ALWAYS saying that it's your fate to stay as her ally and that, if you don't, you'll die here

➠ She's honestly a little surprised by how quickly you just trust her and blindly follow her

➠ (and a little bit concerned)

➠ However, she doesn't let that stop her lies and manipulation because she needs sacrificial pawns for her survival !!

➠ At first, you were more of a pawn that she thought she'd sacrifice if it came down to it but.. she may have changed her mind quite quickly

➠ Especially since you keep trying to give your life away for her and you've barely known her for long

➠ Because of your total trust in her and your willingness to die for her survival, she totally does fall in love with you

➠ Her love might also be because you were actually genuinely nice to her unlike some of the other players. You weren't just pretending to be nice for the sake of appeasing the gods and she liked that a lot.

➠ when she does fall in love with you, she gets more manipulative but, this time, it's to protect you from other players

➠ she knew very well that some of the other players had gladly sacrificed their allies or strangers and she didn't like the idea of that happening to you

she actually isn't really one to fall in love so falling in love with you was something she didn't want to let go of

➠ She's always keeping you by her side from then on and frequently begs the gods above to not let anything happen to you

➠ Every morning, before a new game, she'll immediately tell you the gods blessed the two of you with good luck today so you'll be less nervous about the game you play that day

➠ Also, always partners with you during group games (thank god season 2 didn't have the marble game)

➠ Whenever she's sitting on that one bed above everyone else when the players are voting, most of the time she's looking at you.

➠ Usually you notice her quite quickly and give her a wave which she will return with a smile

➠ If you actually make the decision to not continue the games despite what she tells you, she may be slightly upset about it tbh..

➠ She'll go to you immediately and talk to you about your decision

➠ If it was pure fear that drove your decision to discontinuing the games, she will promise to keep you safe and mention that the gods have promised nothing but fortune for you

➠ She knows she can't really guarantee that and that its a white lie but she really doesn't want the games to end in case she can't find you again

➠ On that note, it does make her a little possessive.

➠ If anyone gets too close to you, she'll slowly walk over and look at who's chatting to you up and down before smirking as if she knows something they don't

➠ She basically stares at them until they leave i'm not gonna lie

➠ Off topic but i could honestly see her wanting to wear some sort of matching jewelry..

➠ like a bracelet or a necklace..

➠ Anyway, back to what I was saying -

➠ she honestly gets jealous easily but she doesn't lash out or anything

➠ like she's not the kind of person to drag you away randomly or do some sort of public display of affection

➠ her aura just scares the person away

➠ I'd also say she doesn't do a lot of PDA

➠ Not because she doesn't like it, she just doesn't do it much

➠ If you ask for it though, then she gladly will.

➠ Overall, manipulative but for the right reasons when you're dating

"Good morning," Seon-Nyeo speaks as she's crouched next to your bed, watching you slowly stretch and come to life. You had gotten used to seeing her by your bedside, smiling at you as she waited for you to finally wake up. It was a wonder how she always woke up before the music blared over the speakers. Her eyes watched you carefully as you sat up and she quickly made herself comfortable on your bed - sitting with her legs crossed. She always enjoyed watching you sleep peacefully. Just like she enjoyed watching your face light up when she told a slight white lie about luck being on your side today. Sure, lying was bad but if it made you more confident, she'd lie a million times. She was glad you trusted her so much. It made her feel rather.. good inside. Once you seemed more awake, she smiled and looked at you directly in the eyes. "The gods have once again promised nothing but good fortune for today so there's no need to worry,"

[fancyfeathers]

Could you please do more interactions with the yandere justice league darlings interacting with eachother?. Pls?! Baby, I'm down on my knees!🙏❤️🙏

Yandere!Justice League AU Masterlist

I’m trying to brainstorm a few things for it but here are some thoughts off of the top of my head.

Like Giovanni Zatara’s darling if we are going by Young Justice’s Justice League, probably the oldest darling out of them all, definitely is the mom of them all. Clark’s darling or Barry’s darling or any darling who have children, she watches them when they are all stuck in the watchtower or they need extra help around the house because their partner is going to be out on a mission for awhile day or two, she helps take care of their kids, especially in those years when Zatara becomes Doctor Fate for those ten years and she is left to take care of Zatanna.

Zatara’s darling is one who falls into stockholm syndrome pretty quickly, probably falling for the charming widower and becoming a mother figure to his daughter very quickly before she gets kidnapped and she just cannot hate him because everything he does is done with pure intention to keep her safe because he loves her so much. So when he is gone, she does not leave even when she can because she cannot abandon Zatanna or any of the darlings of the Justice League who still ate so new to this and they need that support from someone who knows how hard this all is. So it’s not unusual for Clark to come home with his kids playing outside and his own darling sitting in the kitchen while Zatara’s darling makes her a cup of coffee.

J’onn’s darling has a hard time getting to know the other darlings, when she is back home she hardly says a word because n there is always a mental link between her and J’onn almost all the the time when they are together, it is far more intimate and it makes everything feel like home and over time she is just so used to it that when all of them are together she is almost completely silent because she does not know how to communicate with others after a sudden change that has taken hold of her for so long. But I think the only one she has no problem talking to are the children of other darlings because I imagine her either being a librarian or a preschool teacher before everything was thrown out or wack.

I think Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance would be in a poly relationship with their darling so when their darling is left behind because of some dangerous threat the first thing she does is spend an hour or two alone just to decompress before she gets everything off her chest cause one of all those darlings had to be a therapist before they got kidnapped, if not then Zatara’s darling is the next best thing. Also do not touch Green Arrow’s darling, I honestly think she would have been a street level vigilante before getting kidnapped, she will break your nose.

[vrischlatt]

I DO NOT LIKE WILBUR. I may not like shubble either, but here the thing even if i dont like her...

Im not a fucking wilbur supporter.

Wilbur is a shitty person, and the fact it took Shleby, a person whos had a LOT of holes poked into her story, but probably still was abused in the same way Wilbur abused everyone around him, ESPECIALLY TOMMY AND QUACKITY.

Ive had people tell me theres a lot of suspicious patturns of behevoir in the dynamic of Tommy and Wilbur that scream heyyyy Tommy, especially when he was a minor should NOT be left alone with this Wilbur guy! The extents of which we will NEVER know, because while its easy for Tommy to dunk on Dream, he could NEVER dunk on Wilbur.

Shelby was a wake up call for Tommy. Tommy probably needs to go to serious fucking therapy after stepping back and reexamining his dynamic with Wilbur. Because the abuse is subtle and incased DEEPLY into Tommy's psyche. His humor is of im better than you, im richer than you, woman arent funny, drugs, is EXTRMELY influenced by Wilbur's own "humor" and shitty behvoir, which people are quick to call out, but conviently ignore when Tommy does it.

Its too the point that early showings of the how to be a millionaire had hints that Wilbur was ACTUALLY meant to be refrenced in the show, by name, but the drama dropped and he probably was hastily written out of it, implying the show was based off his quote book, which he co wrote with wilbur he makes an appearence in the book but it was his book first and formost.

Like that one clip for example, of Wilbur barking at Tommy to shut up, and instead of protesting or cracking a joke like he would do with ANYONE ELSE, he... shuts up. Uncharacteristically, shuts up. Apparently further context was he may or may not be talking about something he and Wilbur did, and Wilbur refused to let Tommy spill the beans on what happened and NO ONE TO THIS DAY KNOWS WHAT HE WAS GONNA SAY BUT HIM AND WILBUR.

Also obviously the smashing the hand with the foot, and he was oddly harsher if not out righr crueler when he didnt think he was on live stream with Tommy, changing his tune when he realized thousands of people were watching him.

Its got a lot people wondering what hes like off camera honestly and KNOWS hes off camera.

Its so bad its lead me to believe Wilbur... wasnt roleplaying in the skilled actor who plays a facade way, but was playing as a self insert, as himself, and could avertly be more open about who he was by playing it off as a character.

Speaking of him as a roleplayer he was NOT good to his fellow CCs as roleplayers, and was nortious for trying to force ideas on them- sich as fundys character being a girl because he wanted a daughter irl apparently that was the reason i guess so he forced fundy to be his kid for some reason and to be his daughter, which Fundy wanted very little part in, hence where him being trans orginal came from, it was him trying to met part way with Wilbur, and even protested to having his character be a minor.

Which yknow, some of the fandom FUCKING IGNORED.

Hes also done similar to Quackity, plus some. Hes honestly an ass friend to Quackity. And i feel so fucking bad for Quackity.

Also if he cant be the one writing the lore, or cant control other peoples lore he generally looses interest. See point: as DSMp continued and more CCs took control of their stories, he kinda either left and generally stopped streaming or gave his character generally less to do.

Also he generally refused to the show up for Karl's side series, a series even SCHLATT who killed off his character showed up for. So. Yeah. Also on QSMP? Basically abandoned it, even after Quackity lore baited him to join SO HARD MAN. I honestly do NOT like Tallulah and hot take dont think she should ever been added and is a mistake on Quackity's part. She was ALWAYS doomed to have been abandoned by wilbur and everyone should have seen it coming. I hold no sympathy for those who genuinely thought he was ever coming back.

Sorry not sorry, minus Quackity. Im sorry to him because unlike fans he was personally affected by this, even if i seem fit to critize him for it, i do so gently and knly hold sympathy for him on this matter. No one else. Minus the egg who yknow played the egg, and got played by Wilbur. Even if i dont like the egg, being in that situation where you have to be the bait to get wilbur with his self centered short ass attention span fucking ass is NOT a fun postion to be in. Your fucked from the start and they didnt even seem to realize it until too late either.

Wilbur is just generally a bitch, and im glas i never joined the fandom for Lmanberg. I joined for Las Nevadas, for the eggpire for Manberg, not jokeass over here.

And look, im not here to bash on his music. I like his music and i do not give two shits if you still listen to his music. Either through him directly or from someone else reuploading his works or a remix of it or whatever. Look i get it, his music is like the one redeeming thing about it, even if its not a good enough of redeemingly quality to ignore and forgive all the fucking assholary this man gets up to.

Hes EXTRMELY dickish, and whether or not you believe shleby or not should not subtract or distract you from the fucking fsct hes NEVER a good person, hes just a likable person who is good at charming people.

Worst still is hes probably actually happy all of this happened because he doesnt have put up a facade and "deal" with people he clearly has no respecr for and never did, and treat them like accommodations he has to put up and he ignores as his own convience.