#such a wonderful voice and heart and face

[dcxdpdabbles]

Holiday request: child support

John is in a meeting with the Justice League when Clockwork comes knocking. It's a regular update on security and safety procedures, the kind of boring stuff John would have customarily skipped out on, except that this meeting also covers how to provide younger teams support.

Teams that his son was a part of. If Danny was ever on a mission, that could have ended in him passing simply because some wanker didn't know how to find him or how to help him in time?

So here was John, half slumped over his chair as Batman droned about procedures and policies. He had barely gotten through Wonder Woman's long lecture on support combat.

He was thinking of grabbing a coffee- John's been working on his drinking after making a promise to try and get sober for his son- so he was replacing the urge for alcohol with coffee. It was one of the hardest things he's ever done.

Thankfully, he knows some spells that help with withdrawals. It's better than the alternative, even if some days are shitter than others.

"Hello, Johnny," Coos, the Ancient being of Time, flouting before him in his human form. John can feel every hero's jaw drop even as he smiles awkwardly at the other parent of his child.

"Clockwork." He greets, eyes taking in the gorgeous features of Time. He nods his head towards the bag, flouting by Clockwork. "Lovely to see you as always. Got a gift for me?"

"Hmm." Clockwork flouts down, landing on his feet and surveying the room. His pure red eyes sparkled in amusement as the awestruck members of the Justice League. Even Batman seemed momently thrown- though if that was because of Clockwork's beauty or the insane amount of power pushing down on all their souls was anyone's guess.

"I've come to spend a weekend with my son. And you, I suppose, if you do not mind housing me." Clockwork says, at last, patting the bag. John feels his mouth go dry. Yes, he slept with Acient before and wouldn't be opposed to another round, but Clockwork wasn't his average ex.

Clockwork held the entire multiverse at the tip of his fingers, suspended on his amusement, and it could all be destroyed with a mere snap from the other. If he found disproved of even the slightest thing about how John was raising Danny, he could kill billions of people, or worse, he could take Danny away.

John feels cold dread grip his heart even as he laughs. "Of course, I can house you. I hope you won't find being in the human world too much hassle."

"Oh no. I have the perfect disguise to blend in with the humans." Clockwork assures, pulling out a pair of fetching glasses and a white cane. He places them on his head and taps his stick on the ground before grinning. John finds himself instantly spotting the same cocky curve to Danny's own grin, and his heart swells.

"Now, where is my boy? It's been years since I last saw him." Clockwork pauses before shrugging his head. "Or it's only been nine months in this realm. Still a long time for my son."

The Ancient snaps his fingers, ripping a portal open to the front of Danny's school. He offers his arm to the blond man, nodding toward Gotham Academy. The soft ring of the dismissal bells rings as students start pouring out of the front door in drones. Classes for the day have just ended.

"Come along, Johnny. Guide me." John shoots the Leauge an apologetic smile, knowing they will understand how important this visit is. He loops his arm through Clockwork, while heaving the man's bag over his other shoulder. The soft tapping of Clockwork's cane on the ground is the portal's only sound before it slams closed.

It cuts off the explosion of noise the Leauge makes, but with all those overlapping voices, John has no idea who said what.

Danny walks out of the school with Damian, Jon, and Colin, laughing and beaming at the younger boys. Clockwork pauses for a few seconds before he beams.

"You're doing a great job, Johnny." The Ancient says just as Danny's gaze locks on them. His face fumbles with ripples of emotion before lighting up in glee. He races towards them with a gutted shout, "Father!"

Clockwork opens his arms just as Danny slams into him. John steps back, but the Ancient grabs the sleeve of his trench coat and drags him into the hug.

"A really great job." The non-human whispers into John's ear. He feels a soft caress against his magic as if Clockwork was brushing the hair out of his face. His heart flutters softly, even as Danny beams at them, and various teenagers panic at his boy's beauty.

Something tells John that having his ex visiting won't be as bad as he initially thought.

[witherby]

The Littlest Wayne

Or, the one where Bruce brings home a baby, and your adorable little face wins the heart of your new, big brothers.

Platonic!Reader and Batfam

"Bruce."

"Don't freak out."

"Bruce."

"You're freaking out. I can see it in your eyes, but don't do it."

"This is a problem. This is an actual addiction and you need help."

"You're overreacting. I need everyone to take a deep breath, in and out, and not freak out."

Dick crossed his arms and glared at his father, narrowed eyes shifting up and down in an extremely pointed manner. Tim and Jason were wearing similar expressions, looking either at Bruce himself or the bundle in his arms.

Damian walked across the room and peered down at the bundle, expressionless.

"Father, come on."

Bruce carefully brushed the edge of the blanket away from your face. You scrunched your tiny nose, disturbed, then settled back down without issue. The billionaire had found you abandoned outside the garage doors of the Gotham Fire Station, left there by some overwhelmed mother no doubt. Unfortunately, that particular station was closed on the weekends, because of course this damned city couldn't staff a fire station 24/7, and if he hadn't found you on patrol, you would have frozen to death on the ground.

"They were in danger!" Bruce insisted firmly, but kept his voice soft so as not to frighten you. "Look — they don't have black hair or blue eyes. You can tell I didn't do it on purpose."

"Why not take the baby to the GCPD, then? Or a hospital?" Jason piped up, unamused. "B, cut the bullshit. You can't keep 'em."

"I brought them here first to ensure they didn't need any immediate medical attention."

"Which is something a hospital could do," Tim said.

"An overcrowded and understaffed hospital, that doesn't have the time to spare to give them direct and undivided attention?" Bruce argued. "The med ward in the Cave is just as efficient as an emergency room, if not more so."

"And the fact that you aren't down there with the baby — the baby you are not keeping," Dick chimed in, holding out his arms for you, "means that they're perfectly fine and can be transported safely somewhere else."

"They're sleeping right now," Bruce said, completely deadpan, and made no move to relinquish his hold over you. "We can't put them in a noisy car and upset them. We can drop the baby off in the morning."

"He's getting dangerously attached," Dick hissed to his brothers. "We need the big guns."

"I'll alert Pennyworth," Damian declared, already ducking out of the room. Bruce scowled, aware the battle was quickly turning against his favor. But he could play dirty, too.

He dropped his shoulders and the furrow of his brow turned slightly down, weary and forlorn. He stopped looking at his boys and instead studied all your tiny features, tracing a finger down the bridge of your nose, gently across your lashes, and over your plump little cheeks. You were absolutely adorable. He was already thinking of names for you in his mind.

"You know, I never got to raise any of you from infancy," he stated, not in any pointed manner, just as objective fact. Just quietly enough that they could think Bruce hadn't meant to say it out loud. "Not that I would've wanted to steal that experience from your birth parents. I would never. But...I don't even know what Damian looked like when he was this small."

Dick's eye twitched. The glare was still in place, but his frown was less severe. One down.

"I'm sorry, boys," he sighed, acting as though he were giving in. "The Mission has taken up so much of my time, it's hard not to wonder what I would have been like as a normal father. Just the formative things, like... like changing diapers, and doing Tummy Time, and helping you guys learn to walk."

Tim's eyes grew distant, likely thinking of his own parents and the loneliness he felt growing up in Drake Manor all by himself. He was no doubt recalling how much he wished his mom or dad had been around, to play or to talk to or just to physically be there with him, instead of off traveling the world and leaving him behind to fend for himself.

Two down.

But Jason, despite all that had happened over the years, despite the strain on his relationship with Bruce, had always been the most emotional of his children. He would not be hard to win over.

"This would be a mistake," Bruce stated, looking his second oldest right in the eyes. "They'd be happier somewhere else, somewhere normal. Maybe...maybe one of you could hold them and I can go start the car? I can feel myself starting to get attached, and that's not fair to you, boys. I didn't mean to stress you all out. I wasn't thinking."

Jason huffed, lowering his feet from where they'd been propped up on the coffee table, and stood from the couch to come take you from Bruce. His arms carefully held you to his broad chest, your weight settling against him pleasantly.

He made the mistake of watching you scrunch your face and whine softly, itty bitty hands poking out from your blanket and gripping onto his shirt sleeve with all the strength your small body could muster.

Jason's expression dropped immediately, and he practically melted as he tucked you closer.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Damian and Alfred walked into the living room to find Bruce, Jason, Dick, and Tim all cooing and fawning over you, and the war was lost.

Welcome home, Littlest Wayne.

[misswynters]

you giving them an attitude?

suggestive

featuring. sevika x reader, ambessa x reader

requested by anon

sevika

“Still pouting?” Sevika’s deep voice broke the tense silence in the dim room, her tone laced with mockery. She leaned against the table, her metal arm resting heavily on the surface, while her flesh hand held a cigarette lazily between her fingers. Her dark eyes bore into you, amusement flickering within them as you pointedly avoided her gaze.

“I’m not pouting,” you snapped, but your lips betrayed you, jutting out just enough to prove her point. Your arms were crossed tight over your chest as you sat on the edge of the bed, refusing to look her way. “But maybe if you actually bothered to communicate instead of leaving me guessing, I wouldn’t be in this mood.”

Sevika chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, her smirk deepening as she exhaled a plume of smoke. “Oh, so this is my fault now? Didn’t know I had to send you a formal invitation every time I step out the door.”

Her nonchalance only stoked your frustration as you glared at her, your temper flaring hotter than before. “So annoying,” you hissed, shaking your head with your voice trembling in anger.

“Aw... you’re adorable when you’re worked up,” sevika countered, pushing off the table and walking toward you, her broad frame casting a shadow over you. She crouched down slightly, bringing her face level with yours. “Tell me, sweetheart, how long are you planning to keep up this little tantrum?”

Your cheeks flushed with anger and something else entirely as her closeness sent your pulse racing. “It’s not a tantrum,” you shot back, though your voice lacked the conviction you’d hoped for. “I just— I deserve more than half-assed explanations and excuses.”

Sevika tilted her head, her smirk softening, her gaze dipping briefly to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. “You want more?” she murmured, her voice dropping an octave, the weight of her words making your breath hitch.

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, your resolve wavering as her hand came up to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“Then stop running your mouth and show me,” she growled, her lips so close you could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her mechanical arm came to rest on the bed beside you, the cool metal brushing against your thigh, sending a shiver up your spine.

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your lips as Sevika closed the remaining distance. Your hands instinctively reached for her, gripping the front of her shirt as if anchoring yourself to her. Her flesh hand cupped the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, her dominance undeniable.

Ambessa

“You’re awfully bold for someone so small,” Ambessa rumbled, her voice dripping with authority as she stared down at you, her golden eyes glinting with both amusement and challenge. Her towering frame seemed to fill the room, the weight of her presence suffocating yet intoxicating.

“Hmph! You’re awfully arrogant for someone who can’t handle a little backtalk,” you shot back, your voice sharp despite the tremor in your chest. You crossed your arms over your chest, your silk sleeves brushing against the jeweled corset Ambessa had gifted you, the picture of defiance wrapped in hyper-femininity.

Ambessa let out a deep chuckle, her lips curling into a predatory smile as she took a deliberate step closer. “You’ve got a sharp tongue for someone so delicate,” she mused, her tone deceptively soft. “But I wonder… how far will that defiance get you before you beg for my mercy. Right?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you refused to back down, meeting her gaze with all the fire you could muster. “Maybe I don’t need your mercy,” you countered, though your voice wavered slightly as her hand reached out, brushing over the pearls adorning your neckline. “-I like pushing your buttons.”

Ambessa’s smile darkened, her fingers sliding up to grip your chin with a firm but gentle hold. “Oh, you do, little one?” she murmured, her voice a seductive growl that sent shivers down your spine. “Do you think your pretty face will save you if you crossed the line?”

“I think you like it when I cross the line,” you replied breathlessly, your lips parting slightly as her thumb traced your jawline.

Her golden eyes darkened, her grip tightening just enough to make your breath hitch. “Careful,” she warned, her voice a whisper against your lips. “Keep testing me, and I’ll show you exactly what happens when you push too far.”

Your bodies were close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. Your pulse raced as she leaned in, her lips ghosting over your ear. “And something tells me you’d like that far too much,” she added, her words sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

taglist. @blckbny @ch-bl0gsss @b-lossm @fortluocha @ekkosh @limereance @wolfessa @themostlesbianever @simonapietra @1-800-fantasy @saikikittykusuo @sevikaishot @sugarplumz100 @chaostudi @wxwrites @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @robzo4 @puppyphia @xreadersarchive @boom58 @d3adbrainer @kylorey25 @slutmeoutfortoge @yaeil @sapphicarribean @randomperson291 @mvistl @hellokittyfeenie @literallyimthenerdemoji @nikaachuuuu @prettysupplicant @iamaboringrattat

[steddiealltheway]

1984 is not Steve Harrington’s year.

Not only does he find out that his girlfriend doesn’t actually love him, but somehow the creepy monster thing that united his now ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend, came back in the form of some type of monster dog.

The highlight of his year might actually be befriending a nerdy middle schooler who introduced him to said monster dog - which he named Dart of all things... something to do with a candy bar.

He groans at the thought as the music from downstairs carries into his room. For some reason, Tommy Hagan decided to temporarily ignore the fact that he ditched Steve for the new keg king, Billy Hargrove, who managed to give Steve something else to worry about while literal Hell crawled its way into Hawkins, in favor of throwing a New Year's Eve party in the Harrington residence.

Typical for the year Steve's having. Why not end it horribly too?

He glances at the clock, relieved that it's already somewhat close to midnight. If it weren't for the noise, he would consider trying to sleep through this one. Instead, he lays back on his bed and hopes that no one tries to disturb him.

As if the universe can hear his thoughts, and then curse them, the door to his bedroom swings open.

Steve sits up with a huff and frowns at the person.

A guy with medium length curly hair and doe eyes stares back at him with a big smile that screams chaos.

"Sorry, dude," Steve says, "Bedroom is off limits. Go hookup, smoke, or whatever somewhere else."

Instead of leaving, the guy closes the door behind him and locks it.

Steve scoots back on the bed, hand reaching back to wrap around the nail bat he leaves behind his nightstand.

The dude raises his hands in mock surrender, silver rings glinting in the light streaming in from Steve's window - blinds open enough so he can make sure no one does anything weird in his pool. "Listen, man, I'm not here to hurt you or anything. Although you might hurt me when you hear why I'm here."

There's something about his voice that sounds familiar to Steve when it suddenly hits him - all the yelling and stomping around on tabletops. "You're Eddie Munson."

Eddie smiles and bows dramatically. "Guilty as charged."

Steve's frown deepens, and for a fleeting moment he thinks Dustin would really like the guy. "So, why would I hurt you if I hear you out?"

"Because, Steve," Eddie draws out his name as if it has a deeper meaning, "I was downstairs thinking about what a wonderful year I've had, and I decided that I might as well start the year with a little chaos."

Steve's grip tightens around the bat in case he's some sort of satanic serial killer or something, although his gut tells him that he shouldn't be scared of the man. "What do you mean by chaos?"

There's a strange glint in Eddie's eye when he shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on the feet as if he wants to move closer to Steve but has decided to plant himself by his door. "I mean... I came to this party to sell my supply and after my whole lunchbox was cleaned out, I started thinking about who I should kiss at midnight. Or more precisely, who would be the worse option, or rather, the option that would bring the most-"

"Chaos. Yeah, I got that part," Steve cuts him off.

Eddie's smile changes to something genuine for a moment as he comments, "Wow, Steve Harrington is actually listening to me."

Steve rolls his eyes, grip loosening on the bat. "I'd rather you not stand on my desk to get my attention." To Steve's surprise, Eddie actually laughs in response and pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his smile. And to Steve's much greater surprise, his heart starts beating a little faster and he finds it harder to not smile back at him. "So, chaos?" Steve prompts.

"Right," Eddie says, rocking on his feet again, "Chaos." He ducks his head for a moment as if hyping himself up for the next thing he's going to say, which is when Steve entirely releases his grip on the bat, realizing that Eddie is more scared of him. "So, I thought, to start the year off with the most chaos, I would choose someone to kiss that would bring the most chaos. And I thought, why not the host of this party?"

Steve frowns. "Tommy's downstairs."

Eddie mirrors his frown. "You're not hosting?"

"Why would I be in my room if I'm hosting?"

"Why would the party be in your house if you're not hosting?"

It suddenly hits Steve. "Wait, you want to kiss me?"

Eddie takes a step back, hovering even closer to the door than he was before. "Consensually, of course."

It takes a moment for Steve to fully process what is being asked. "You think I'm the worst option to kiss?"

"That's what you're asking?" Eddie asks, trailing off to mutter something like, "The fragile ego of athletes, I swear."

"I got dumped this year. Of course my ego is low."

Eddie smiles bashfully. "Sorry, my uncle always tells me I'm not as quiet as I think I am." And there's something about Eddie's cheeks that are slightly flushed, the strand of hair he starts tugging at again, and the way he can't stop bouncing as if he's buzzing with energy and nerves that makes him so...

"Yes," Steve blurts out suddenly. For a moment, he wonders if the mindf- mind fly? mind... whatever evil thing from a few weeks ago has possessed him.

"Yes what?" Eddie asks sounding genuinely confused. As Steve stands up to look out his blinds and shut them, Eddie rambles, "Yes, I'm not as quiet as I think I am? Or yes, you're about to punch me, and I'm going to finally figure out how it felt when you got your face bashed in a few weeks ago?"

Steve rolls his eyes before holding up both of his hands, mimicking Eddie's pose when he first came into the room. "Yes, I'll kiss you."

It's as if Eddie has forgotten he's asked the question the way his jaw drops, and he stares at Steve like he's said the most confusing thing he's ever heard. Which... to be fair... is highly likely.

"You want to kiss me?"

Steve takes a small step closer to Eddie. "I want to give you your chaos."' When Eddie doesn't look convinced, Steve takes a step closer to him, hand running through his hair as he continues, "Who knows, maybe it'll give me good luck or something for next year by cancelling out the chaos from this year."

Eddie nods. "Okay. You're giving me your chaos. Yeah. That makes sense."

"And you're taking my chaos away," Steve agrees, trying to tell himself that this is a rational decision. "This makes sense."

"You're not going to beat me up?" Eddie asks, risking a small step away from the door.

Steve shakes his head. "Seems like a bad way to start the year, don't you think?"

Eddie nods as Steve steps closer to him, slowly, as if not to startle him away. "You know, I thought just asking you would be chaotic enough as is and then I could run away and pretend you hallucinated or something when you tried to beat me up."

"Should've asked Hargrove then," Steve says, cocking his head to the side. "Does that mean you don't actually want to kiss me?"

Eddie swallows and shakes his head. "I didn't say that."

Just as Steve gets in front of Eddie, he hears people downstairs counting down from ten. "Good," Steve says, "Because there isn't enough time to find someone else."

Eddie scoffs, the countdown now at eight, "That's not true for you."

"Maybe, but I'm not really looking to find anyone else right now. Are you?" Five.

Eddie smiles and takes a step forward. "No." Three.

Steve reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear. "Good." One.

Steve's not really sure who moves first or if they move together, but the yells of, "Happy New Year" are drowned out as Eddie's lips meet his in a kiss that feels more desperate than Steve expected. He's not sure why they're kissing as if the countdown was for the end of the world, but he really doesn't care.

It's only when Steve's gets a little carried away, Eddie's back slams against Steve's door with a thud that's loud enough to alert anyone that something's happening in Steve's room, that Steve breaks away with a gasp, seeking the air Eddie's stolen from him. He wonders if - hopes - it's the chaos he's taken.

"Happy New Year," Steve whispers, hands cupping Eddie's face while Eddie's are tangled in the mess he's made of Steve's hair. He's not sure when either of those things happened.

"Happy fucking New Year, Steve," Eddie mutters, hands slowly dropping from his hair.

Steve's hands hold onto Eddie's face a little tighter for a moment, and he sees the moment a bit of fear sparks in Eddie's eyes. Steve quickly shakes his head. "No, I'm not about to beat you up. It's just... I kind of slammed you against the door a little hard there, and if someone else is up here and they see you..."

"Chaos," Eddie fills in with a nod, "And not the good kind."

"Yeah," Steve sighs, "Not the good kind." He glances to his window where the blinds are firmly shut - thank you Jonathan for teaching him that lesson - and down at the locked doorknob before looking back at Eddie. He glances at his lips momentarily before blurting out, "Stay with me."

Eddie's jaw drops, mouth opening slightly in shock.

Steve steps back, hands reluctantly leaving Eddie's face. "Stay until everyone clears out at least. No ulterior motive."

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets and moves back into Steve's space. "What if I want there to be an ulterior motive?" He tilts his head down and gives Steve a case of lethal puppy dog eyes. "Fully take your chaos away, remember?"

Steve is absolutely sure that this in no way will take away the chaos of his previous year and will likely only invite questions, confusion, and further chaos into 1985.

"Yeah, I remember," Steve says, pulling Eddie into another desperate kiss.

Maybe Eddie was onto something about starting the year with a little chaos. And maybe 1985 will be his year.

(i accidentally wrote a tiny epilogue later in the tags that i really like)

[strwberri-milk]

Maybe this is a bit angsty but could I request the LADS men’s (or just Sylus’s) reaction when reader randomly, casually says in a conversation, ‘Well you’re probably not gonna stick around with me in the future anyway’ (so in short, they think they’re temporary).

Zayne's attention snaps to you so quickly you would have thought you told him you're experiencing a cardiac event. He takes a second to process the words, brows furrowing as he asks you why you'd say something like that. His reaction is so visceral you can't help but laugh awkwardly, asking him what he means by that. The confusion tinged with something unreadable and sad hurts his heart, wondering if he hasn't made it clear enough that he's madly in love with you and only you.

He falls silent, pondering your words and his own actions. Has he not been affectionate enough with you? Has he not been obvious enough about how in love he is with you? You start to squirm, usually used to his thoughtful pauses but the tension rising in the air has you suffocating.

Eventually he tells you that you're going to be stuck with him for quite a while because he doesn't intend on giving you up that easily. He cups your face in his hands, telling you that you're the most precious thing to him in the world and he's going to love you until his dying breath, then past that. The confession is quite intense especially since he just looks very intense for the most part so it steals your breath away before Zayne pushes air right back into your lungs with a desperate kiss.

Xavier immediately tells you off, raising a brow as he asks why you think he wouldn't be there in the future. He's spent so many years yearning for your warmth - it seems blasphemous to him not to stay with you until the universe tears you apart and then some. You see the hurt in his eyes immediately, trying to backtrack as he asks you if you really thought he'd leave.

He takes your hands in his gently, taking a palm to cup his cheek as he nuzzles into your warmth, looking up at you with those baby blues that seem to tempt you to fall into them as he repeats the question. Your words are dry in your throat as you look away, his hand coming up to tilt your face back to look at him.

He swears his life to you again, peppering your hand in kisses as he speaks. If you had any doubts about his feelings for you before there's no way you can now, not with the way his voice settles around you. He solidifies his feelings for you, devoting his entire being to you in the quiet space between the two of you.

Rafayel is totally unamused, brushing your comment off as a joke. He fully thinks you're just trying to get under his skin, teasing him because that's the sort of relationship that the two of you have. When you don't respond with your usual enthusiasm he looks at you with a scrutinizing gaze. His lips press together as he starts to realise that you were serious, rolling his eyes as he pulls you against his chest.

He's shaking, thinly veiled anger running through his veins. He isn't really mad at you, but it would be wrong to say that he isn't at the same time. He doesn't understand why you'd think something like that, under the belief that he's made it very clear that he's in love with you and only you. I mean, have you seen him in a room with other people when they aren't you?

His words are soft in your ear, the quietest hint of a threat in them as he asks if you're serious. Nothing about this was temporary, about his feelings for you were fading. They never did and they never could, not even if he fell to his knees and begged for someone to take them from him. He's built on the anger of a dead civilsation and the inability to do anything but love you, telling you that even if you try to leave him he'll just wait until you're ready for him again.

Sylus doesn't even stop what he's doing, chuckling softly at the notion. He thinks you're joking, unable to fathom that you're fully serious in thinking that he won't be sticking around. You feel a little upset at how easily he brushes you off, deciding that you're done for the day as you fall silent. He notices that right away, looking up at you and beckoning for you to crawl into his lap. If you refuse to he'll simply come over and pull you into his lap without question, telling you to repeat yourself.

You repeat the statement, now more unsure of yourself since he's staring at you intently. You can see the slight quirk of his lips, his smirk making your heart beat a little faster as you tell him that whatever the two of you have isn't serious. He laughs at the notion, shaking his head as he cups your face in his hands. He takes in every detail of your face, sighing softly as he buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses as he shakes his head.

He doesn't know what to say, the words all caught in his throat as he holds you. You don't need him to say anything though, the desperate way he clings to your body and his lips muttering the beginnings of words just to abandon them convincing you more with every passing second that he's going to love you until the end of time.

[joelsrose]

Mr Miller

I had an itch …..

Mrs. Miller’s laughter rang through the entryway, light and carefree, as you closed the book resting in your lap. You stood slowly, hesitating for a moment before rounding the corner to see her near the door. Joel stood behind her, his arms wrapped securely around her waist as he leaned down, nipping playfully at her ear. She swatted at him with a laugh, her cheeks flushed, and he smiled, his face soft and unguarded.

You froze, your stomach twisting as if you’d intruded on something deeply private. The moment was too intimate, too raw, and you suddenly felt out of place, like you didn’t belong in their carefully constructed world.

“Oh!” Mrs. Miller exclaimed, straightening up the moment she noticed you standing there. Joel didn’t move, his hands still resting comfortably on her waist, but his gaze flicked to yours. His expression didn’t falter—if anything, his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“How were the girls?” Mrs. Miller asked, her tone breezy as she grabbed her purse.

“Perfect, as always,” you said, forcing a smile as you shifted the weight of your bag on your shoulder.

“Good,” she said with a nod, pulling out her wallet. She moved toward you, counting out bills. “Seventy okay?”

You blinked in surprise. It was more than she usually paid you for babysitting —more than the agreed amount.

Your gaze flicked briefly to Joel, who remained rooted in place, watching the interaction with an unreadable expression. Maybe she was feeling generous after a good night with her husband.

“That’s too much,” you protested, shaking your head slightly.

Mrs. Miller waved you off with a smile. “You’re in college,” she said, her tone light but faintly condescending. “I remember what that used to be like. Trust me, you need it more than I do.”

You forced another smile despite the subtle sting of her words. “Thank you,” you said softly, pocketing the money.

“Anyways,” you added, adjusting your bag again, “I should get going—”

“Wait,” Joel interrupted, stepping forward, his voice low and steady. “Wanna show you something.”

You hesitated, your heart picking up pace as Mrs. Miller turned to look at him with an exasperated smile.

“Joel, if it’s those damn ducks outside, I swear to God,” she said with a playful sigh, shaking her head.

“Ducks?” you asked, your confusion clear.

“They’re swans,” Joel corrected, his tone deadpan as he finally glanced at his wife. Without waiting for a response, he gestured for you to follow him. “C’mon.”

You hesitated, unsure whether to follow, but Mrs. Miller shook her head, waving you off with a smirk. “He’s obsessed,” she said, ascending the stairs with her purse slung over her shoulder. “The quicker you follow him, the quicker you’ll be free to get out of here and live your life.” She paused, turning back briefly to wink at you. “Thanks again for tonight.”

You stood there for a moment, caught in a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, unease, and the nagging curiosity Joel always seemed to spark in you. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you followed him out the door, stepping into the crisp evening air, unsure of what you were walking into but unable to stop yourself from finding out.

Joel held the door open, waiting for you to follow him. He leaned casually against the frame, his broad shoulders filling the space with an ease that felt effortless. He looked handsome—too handsome. His shirt, crisp and perfectly fitted, tugged slightly over his chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Miller had chosen his outfit for the night. The thought sent a pang of jealousy through you, unwelcome and irrational, but there all the same.

You wondered fleetingly about their bedroom—what side of the bed he slept on, what he wore to bed, whether he kept a book on the nightstand or if he simply rolled over and fell asleep. The thought twisted something in your chest, and you quickly brushed it aside, stepping past him and out into the cool evening air.

As you passed him, his scent wrapped around you, clean and woodsy, with a hint of something expensive—too expensive for you to recognize. It lingered, warm and enticing, as he closed the door softly behind you.

Joel gestured toward the edge of the pool, his hand resting briefly on the glass pool fence as he leaned against it. The water shimmered under the glow of the patio lights, its surface reflecting the silver-blue hue of the moon hanging high in the sky.

Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, the soft rustle of the lighter breaking the silence. The flame flickered briefly, illuminating his face in warm gold as he lit it. He turned to you, the cigarette dangling from his fingers, offering it to you with his eyes—a silent invitation.

“Oh, no thanks,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t smoke.”

Joel nodded, tucking the cigarette back between his lips. “That’s good,” he said, his voice low, the words curling around the smoke. “Nasty habit.”

But he didn’t stop.

You shifted on your feet, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cool breeze. “So,” you said, trying to fill the quiet. “Swans?”

Joel didn’t answer. Instead, he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. “Sophie hates when I smoke,” he said finally, his tone almost conversational, as though he wasn’t ignoring your question entirely.

“Oh,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. You weren’t too sure he was discussing his wife’s distaste with you but you didn’t move.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Think she hates the fact that it lingers on my clothes more than the fact that it can kill me.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and unresolved, as you stood beside him, both of you looking out at the pool, at the moon, at anything but each other. There was something unspoken in his posture, in the way he leaned against the glass as if it was holding more than just his weight.

You swallowed hard, feeling the tension between you shift and swell, the quiet night amplifying every unspoken word. Joel took another drag of his cigarette, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, and you wondered, not for the first time, what thoughts haunted him in moments like this.

“What do you like about it?” you asked hesitantly, unsure of how to break the thick silence between you.

Joel turned his head toward you, his expression unreadable. He shrugged, the movement lazy, like he had nothing to prove. “Tastes like crap,” he admitted, taking another slow drag of the cigarette. “But like I said, becomes a habit.”

You nodded, glancing around the patio. Still no swans.

“So,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet as he turned to face you fully. “What’s your bad habit?”

You blinked, taken aback by the question. Was he tipsy from dinner? His tone was casual, but there was something in the way his gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, that made your pulse quicken.

“Uh,” you stammered, shifting awkwardly. “I don’t… I don’t really have one.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a small, amused smile. “So you’re perfect?”

“No,” you said quickly, scoffing as your cheeks burned. “I just don’t really… you know.” You gestured vaguely. “Smoke, or drink that much, or… do drugs.”

Joel nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “So, you’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.

Something about the words sent a flicker of heat through you, angering you in a way you didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t wrong. You were a good girl, objectively. You followed the rules, you did what was expected of you. But the way he said it—like it was some neatly wrapped box he was placing you in—made you want to tear it apart, to prove him wrong.

Before you could think better of it, your hand darted forward, taking the cigarette from his fingers. You brought it to your lips, ignoring the way his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

You’d never smoked before. You didn’t even know how.

“There she is,” Joel murmured, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name. Amusement? Pride?

You inhaled—a shallow, unsteady puff—and immediately started coughing, your lungs burning as the bitter taste filled your mouth. It was disgusting. How did people do this?

Joel laughed, his deep, rumbling chuckle filling the space around you. He reached out, taking the cigarette back from your hand, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “You’re doin’ it all wrong,” he said, shaking his head.

He turned then, leaning his back against the glass fence so he was facing you now. The moonlight cast soft shadows on his face, illuminating the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He brought the cigarette to his mouth, taking a slow drag before holding it out to you again.

This time, he held it himself, the cigarette poised just near your lips.

“Open,” he said softly, his voice low and coaxing.

You hesitated, your gaze darting between his eyes and the cigarette.

“Trust me,” Joel murmured, his tone steady, almost reassuring.

You parted your lips slightly, and he brought the cigarette closer, his gaze fixed intently on you.

“Don’t suck too hard,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just take it in, real slow. Let it fill your mouth—don’t pull it into your lungs yet.”

You did as he said, the smoke sitting in your mouth, bitter and unfamiliar.

“Now,” Joel said, his eyes locked on yours, “open your lips, and breathe in—just enough to pull it in.”

You followed his instructions, the smoke slipping into your lungs, and this time, you didn’t cough as hard. It still burned, still tasted terrible, but the way Joel watched you—his dark eyes steady, his fingers grazing your lips as he held the cigarette for you—made it impossible to care.

“There ya go,” he said casually, as if any part of this was remotely normal. Like teaching your babysitter to smoke on the patio while his wife was upstairs was just another thing he did on a quiet night at home.

Your stomach churned as the reality of it settled over you. You could practically picture Mrs. Miller lying in their bedroom, her nightgown elegant but undoubtedly sexy, waiting for Joel to come to bed. The thought twisted something inside you, sharp and uncomfortable.

“So,” Joel said, turning to face the pool again, leaning his elbows on the glass fence as he took another drag. His broad shoulders caught the moonlight, his profile sharp and impossibly handsome. “What’s the verdict?”

You stood still for a moment, the cigarette’s taste lingering bitterly in your mouth. “Still tastes like shit,” you murmured before you could stop yourself.

The word hung in the air, and your stomach dropped. Shit. You’d just sworn in front of your employer. What were you thinking?

But Joel didn’t seem to care. He chuckled, the sound low and rich, curling in the air like the smoke he exhaled. Even his laugh had that same effortless charm, like he owned the moment and everything in it.

“Honest,” he said, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “I like that.”

Your cheeks burned under his gaze, and you shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. The tension between you hummed quietly, the line between right and wrong blurring as Joel took another drag, his movements slow and deliberate.

You glanced down at your watch, the small hands ticking closer to midnight. It was late—too late. You had class in the morning, and the thought of dragging yourself out of bed at sunrise felt impossible.

“I should really get going,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the quiet night air.

Joel straightened at your words, as though he’d momentarily forgotten that you weren’t here entirely by choice. His gaze flicked to you, something unspoken flashing in his eyes before he nodded.

“Right,” he said, his voice low.

He took another slow drag from the cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the dark, before he dropped it onto the smooth patio floor. With a deliberate motion, he pressed it out under the sole of his expensive shoes. The sight of it—a crushed, smoldering stub against the pristine tiles—felt jarring, out of place.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to pick it up, to toss it into the trash where it belonged. The mess, the casual carelessness of it, gnawed at you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Sorry about the swans,” Joel said, his tone almost light, but the faint smirk on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Those bastards are hiding from us.”

You managed a small smile, more out of politeness than anything else, as he turned toward the door. His broad frame seemed to block out the light spilling from the house as you followed him back inside, the air between you thick with the unspoken weight of the evening.

Your footsteps echoed softly on the hardwood floors as you made your way to the entryway. The house felt too quiet now, too big, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something irreversible had shifted in the space between you and Joel.

He held the door open for you again, the faint scent of smoke and cologne still clinging to him, and for a brief moment, you hesitated—caught between leaving and the strange pull that kept you rooted to the spot.

“Drive safe,” Joel said, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice almost a whisper.

And as you stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you felt heavier than it should have—like a quiet ending to something you weren’t entirely sure how to name.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Happy New Year!

Ah, this year has been so wonderful! Sharing my writing again has been such a great experience, and I'm thrilled with the growing community we've created!! Here's to next year with much more love of Jason Todd 💙 ~ 800 words

Gotham is alive on New Years. Every occupied apartment, every sleazy club, and every upstanding venue pounds with music and laughter and a quiet, hopeful idea that the year that comes will be better.

Drinks are plenty, and the food is delicious for anyone invited (or quick enough to sneak into) The Wayne New Year Spectacular Gala. There's a not-so-secret surprise fireworks show planned, and you've heard from the source just how hard it was to secure permits, so you can only guess how extravagant they're going to be tonight.

But you're sure it's going to be beautiful, so sure, in fact, you've left the warmth of your apartment and the comfort of your tv to sit on the rooftop to enjoy them. Armed with more than a couple of blankets, a thermos, and a couple snacks stuffed in the pockets of your hoodie, you hardly feel the December chill in the air.

It's peaceful, even as the last few minutes of the year start to tick down, there's an excitement that makes your heart pound. It's almost perfect, almost picturesque.

And then it is.

Boots hit the concrete and you turn your head just in time to see Jason pulling off his helmet, an easy, happy grin on his face despite his accusing words, "You're gonna freeze out here."

You match his smile, eyes lighting up as he saunters over to you to sit down and press his weight and warmth to your side, "Don't you have patrol?"

He hums, more interested in throwing an arm over your shoulder to draw you closer than the criminals he's supposed to be chasing after, "I have some time. Batgirl drew the short straw, and she can handle whatever Calendar Man came up with."

You nearly giggle at the thought, "I think the news said something about a clock?"

Jason drops his head to rest it on top of yours, idly rubbing his hand up and down your arm to stave off the cold, "It's cliché, whatever he's doing. The real question is why you're out here."

"Fireworks are supposed to go off at midnight," you mumble, draping your blanket over his legs in return for his touch, "Supposed to be the biggest show Gotham's ever seen."

"That so," he questions, leaning back slightly to grin at you, eyes narrowing like he knows something you don't, "I guess that's useful."

"Why's that," You ask, torn between keeping your eyes on the skyline in anticipation or watching the way his adoring gaze flickers over your face.

"Then I'll know when to kiss you," he tells you, clearly proud of his revelation.

It's corny, and so cheesy that you have to laugh and elbow his arm, "Are you asking me to be your New Year's kiss, Casanova?"

He nods, eager as he catches your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, "I am asking, but I'm not above begging either."

You open your mouth to tease him more, to really make him work for your kisses, even if you are happy to give them. At least you were, until flashes of color fill the sky– yellows, purples, reds, blues, and greens light up his face in a myriad of shining lights.

The bangs and pops of the fireworks don't register as Jason tilts his head at you, voice going from smug to low and reverent, "Happy New Year, sweetheart."

He's beautiful in the rainbow of colors filling the night sky, and you're hit with such a wave of fondness– gratefulness– love– that you surge forward to kiss him.

He kisses you back just as eagerly, one hand cradling your face so gently you can't help but melt into him. Kissing him always takes your breath away, but this feels special– more– a beginning to a year with so much promise, and all with him.

You finally pull when your lungs start to burn, "Happy New Year, Jason," you breathe out, "I love you."

He wears the same expression every time he hears you say it. Awe paints his face as he traces his thumb over your cheek, "I love you," he echoes, pressing his forehead to yours.

You revel in his touch for a moment before turning to watch the lights, curling into him as he kisses the crown of your head. It's sweet, blissful, more than you could ever dare to dream of.

Jason tugs you closer to his side, squeezing you once, then twice as he focuses his attention back towards the fireworks. The cheers that sound through the Gotham air ring in the New Year, and when the sparkling lights start to fill the sky with such brightness it almost seems like day, you know the year that comes next will be full of love– of him– and all the good that comes with it.

[calicocita]

KAMO CHOSO: ❝ MORAL SUPPORT. ❞

choso would never openly admit that his biggest fantasy was having you as his under the desk support while he's gaming.

what your boyfriend didn't know is that you had to control yourself from begging him to let you give him head every time you saw him playing his stupid little video games.

at least not until you reached your fucking limit.

if you didn't know your boyfriend well, you would think he was teasing you. by the way he spread his legs across the chair, or the way he groaned at the monitor, throwing his arms around the headrest.

and it really didn't help that he the only thing he was wearing was his matching pair of hello kitty sweatpants he'd gotten for you two.

"sorry, baby, just finishing up this round," choso said as he you got crawled out of his bed and walked towards him. he didn't look at you, maybe if he did he would've known what was coming.

"don't worry, cho, i just wanted to show you my support," you purred into your boyfriend's ear, dragging your nails (that he paid for) down his neck, making his whole body shiver.

you continued to drag your nails down his arms, his naked torso, as you placed yourself between his legs, under the tight space under his desk. choso's eyes followed your every movement like he could not believe what was happening. the clicking sound coming from his keyboard grew more and more sporadic.

"what are you—argh," choso quickly covered the microphone on his headset, just in time to muffle his whimpering voice as you brought your tongue to his abdomen, making your way down his happy trail. "baby, i-i'm on a call with the—ngh—the boys."

"then we better be quiet, huh?" you replied, before placing your parted lips on top of his bulge. choso bucked his hips at the slight touch, making you giggle. even through his sweatpants, you could feel how hard and ready he was for you, even though you had barely touched him. so cute. "can you be good for me, hm?"

he couldn't take his eyes off of you, completely mesmerized. his mic was still covered but you could hear his friends' voice coming from his headset.

"bro, you still there?"

"are we still playing?"

"the fuck, choso?!"

"y-yeah, 'm here," choso finally replied, doing his best to ignore the fact that the hottest woman alive was making his biggest fantasy come true at that very moment.

you stared at him through your lashes. he looked so damned adorable when he was concentrated like that. the sound of clicking coming from his keyboard and mouse was relentless—it made you wonder if that had anything to do with how dexterous he was at making you feel good with his hands.

you pulled the band of his sweatpants down, releasing his cock, which spun freely to your face. you felt choso choke as you grabbed him, slowly starting to pump his cock, eyeing it like it was a piece of candy. you looked up at your boyfriend, hungry eyes meeting his half lidded gaze and flushed cheeks. you could see how hard he was trying not to moan for you, sucking his breath through gritted teeth, trembling under your touch.

you made sure to not break eye contact as you took him in your mouth, letting out a moan from deep in your throat. choso could swear that his heart stopped for a second.

"you good, choso?" you recognized yuji's voice.

"y-yeah, all good." choso managed to reply before muting.

he looked down at you, his beautiful girlfriend, loudly slurping on his cock, barely containing your moans. he watched you as you popped his cock out of your mouth like a lollipop, just to suck on his balls, pumping his cock with your hand, while you layed your face on his thigh, staring up at him.

"so good f-for me, cho," you hiccuped mid sentence, you sounded so cock drunk and looked so fucked out that choso almost came right there.

he couldn't take it anymore.

choso could barely hear his friends yelling at him for leaving the round, he couldn't care less. he lowered his headset before grabbing you by your hair, desperately fucking your mouth. the perfect gagging noises you made blurred his mind, till all he could think about was how fucking perfect you looked with your pretty face stuffed with his cock.

he held your head in place as he came undone and watched you swallow every drop of his cum before collapsing on his chair, audibly whimpering. choso ran his fingers languidly through your hair as you licked him clean.

"thank you, baby. i love you so much," he mumbled before pulling you in for a kiss.

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART FIVE

paige x azzi

word count: 8k

A/N: Alrighttyy here’s the next chapter as promised. I am so sorry in advance for the beginning it was needed for the plot and I’ve kinda been following the accuracy of their season 😔. I swear I make up for it by the end of the chapter so you guys won’t hate me. They’re taking steps that’s all I’ll say 🙂‍↕️

—————————————————————————

December 2021 - Connecticut

The next two weeks were a noticeable shift for both Paige and Azzi. With Azzi sidelined by her foot injury, Paige took it as an opportunity to grow closer to her outside of basketball, though it often came with a bit of dramatic flair. Paige would still FaceTime Azzi at all hours of the night, her voice playful but a little over the top as she begged, "Please come to the gym, it’s so boring without you." Each call, Paige would act like the gym now felt empty without Azzi as she showed her on the camera, exaggerating how she couldn’t get anything done without her presence.

Azzi, pretending to be annoyed, would respond with something like, “You’re dramatic, Paige,” but there was always a smile hidden behind her words. She’d act like she wasn’t going to answer, rolling her eyes at the screen, but it never took long before she found herself grabbing her shoes and dragging herself over to keep Paige company.

Sometimes, she’d help her shoot around or go through drills, other times they would just sit, talking about everything and nothing at all. Paige loved to come up with silly games to pass the time, and Azzi would play along, even if her foot wasn't fully healed. It wasn’t that Azzi didn’t mind taking it easy for a while; in fact, being with Paige made it a lot easier to forget the frustration of sitting out. There was something about Paige’s energy that kept her entertained, and it made the quiet moments in between practice feel a lot less lonely.

The rest of the team noticed Paige’s shift too, though they didn’t mention it directly not wanting to mess anything up. While Paige had always been intense and all about basketball, now there was a certain lightness in her. She was taking care of herself more—spending time with Azzi, relaxing instead of overworking. She had found a balance she hadn’t had before, and it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone.

…

The clock was ticking down, and UConn was firmly in control of the game against Notre Dame, leading 73-54. The tension in the air had long lifted as the final seconds of the game wound down. Paige was dribbling the ball up the court, her focus on running out the clock. But suddenly, as her left foot hit the floor, there was a sharp stumble, and her knee buckled in a way that sent a jolt of concern through the entire arena.

Pain flashed across Paige’s face, and despite her obvious discomfort, she kept dribbling, fighting to push through it. She passed the ball to Caroline, her right leg taking the brunt of the movement as she hopped on it, trying to stay upright. With every move, her limp grew more pronounced before Paige fell just in front of the UConn bench, clutching her left leg as she hit the hardwood floor hiding her face from view.

Azzi’s stomach dropped at the sight, her eyes widening in shock. It felt like the world around her paused, the entire arena quitting as her focus narrowed only to Paige. The gym’s noise fading as she heard nothing but her heart racing.

Geno immediately called a timeout, signaling for the trainers to rush over. Azzi’s breath hitched, her legs frozen in place as her gaze remained locked on Paige, the moment causing her chest to tighten slightly. Her mind was racing, wondering what had happened, how bad it was. She was on her feet in an instant, but the trainers were already around Paige, and Azzi hesitated, not wanting to crowd them. Why did she feel like this? She had seen plenty of teammates get injured before and she was fine but right now she felt sick to her stomach.

The trainers were around Paige, speaking to her softly, trying to calm her down as her breathing was uneven. But Paige’s face was twisted in clear discomfort as she kept repeating, "My knee," her voice shaky and urgent. Azzi's gaze didn’t leave her, watching even as Evina and Amari gently lifted Paige, one on each side, helping her off the court and to the end of the bench where the trainers could work on her.

Azzi stayed back, knowing she couldn’t talk to her yet. She had to wait until the game was officially over. Her mind kept replaying the moment Paige fell, and the worry was gnawing at her. Her stomach was in knots, but she knew better than to add to the chaos.

The final buzzer sounded, and the team went through the usual handshakes with Notre Dame, but everyone’s mind was far from the celebrations. Azzi’s eyes constantly flicked over to the bench, still keeping an eye on Paige as the trainers helped her up.

Paige limped toward the locker room with the help of the trainers, frustration and pain evident on her face. She was clearly trying to fight it, to stay composed, but her limping gait told the story. Azzi could feel her chest tightening again as she followed her into the locker room.

Once inside, Paige reached for her jersey, pulling it off roughly in frustration, and tossed it across the room not caring where it landed. Azzi could see the discomfort written all over Paige’s face, her frustration clear to everyone as she threw the piece of clothing away.

Evina, not knowing what else to do but be the leader she always has, stepped in with a scolding tone. "Paige, you know that’s not how we do things here," she said sternly, her voice filled with authority though there was a hint of uncertainty this time.

Azzi, however, knew that wouldn’t make anything better. So she moved closer, stepping in between Paige and Evina, her voice softer but firm. "She has to get it out, E. You gotta let her.”

Evina paused, glancing between Azzi and Paige. She looked like she wanted to argue but finally sighed, understanding. She nodded and stepped back, giving Paige the space she needed to process everything that just happened. Azzi knelt beside her, her voice low but filled with concern. "You okay?" she asked, her hand gently resting on Paige’s knee, though she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. But she couldn’t stand seeing Paige like this—frustrated, in pain, and clearly overwhelmed.

Paige didn’t respond immediately, but her shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of the situation had finally caught up with her. Her eyes welled up with tears, and her body trembled as she whispered, "I think it’s broken, Azzi." Her voice was small, barely audible, but the fear in it was unmistakable. "I heard it crack... pop... I don’t know... it hurts like hell."

As the words left her mouth, the tears started to fall, and her shoulders shook. Azzi immediately moved closer, her arms wrapping around Paige, pulling her into a comforting embrace. The hug was a little stiff at first, the two of them never being this close in this kind of situation. But eventually Paige sunk into Azzi’ chest trying to let the younger girl soothe her as she continued to cry. Azzi didn’t say anything at first—she didn’t need to. The team, watching silently from a distance, could only stand by, understanding the gravity of the moment. Everyone knew how much this game and the season meant to Paige. To see her like this, in pain, and terrified was something none of them had even thought to prepare for.

Azzi kept her hold on Paige, gently rubbing her back, whispering soft words of reassurance. "You’re gonna be okay, Paige," she murmured, her voice steady and calming. "We’ll figure this out. It’s going to be okay."

The sound of the door opening cut through the tension, Geno entered, his presence commanding the room. He didn’t waste any time on post-game talk, his focus solely on Paige. "No talk just get changed, everyone," he ordered, his voice curt but concerned. His eyes flicked to Paige, the worry clear in his eyes.

Before anyone could move, the trainers entered with a wheelchair, approaching Paige with gentle but firm insistence. Paige, still in tears, looked up at them, her stubbornness flaring despite her pain. She shook her head violently, her voice hoarse as she snapped, "I’m not using that shit."

Azzi, who had been holding Paige, leaned back slightly and looked at her with a mix of concern and understanding. "Paige..." she began softly, trying to coax her to let the trainers help without saying it directly. But Paige, her face contorted with frustration and fear, shook her head again, this time more vehemently.

"I’m fine. I can walk," she said, but the words were more defensive than convincing. Azzi stayed quiet, knowing Paige’s stubbornness well at this point, but she wasn’t sure how to get through to her at this moment. The last thing Azzi wanted was to push Paige further into herself, but she also knew they couldn’t let her walk out on her knee.

"Paige, let them help," Azzi said quietly, her voice full of empathy but still firm. "You’re not going to get miraculously better by fighting it." She gently but firmly squeezed Paige’s shoulder, hoping to make her understand.

The rest of the team remained silent, a heavy tension hanging in the air as everyone waited for Paige’s response, not knowing how she was going to react. Finally, after a long, drawn-out moment, Paige let out a frustrated sigh, her defiance still burning but her body sagging in defeat. She didn’t speak but slowly, reluctantly, she allowed the trainers to assist her into the wheelchair.

As one of the trainers began to push the wheelchair forward, Paige’s hand hesitated at her side before reaching out. Her fingers brushed against Azzi’s, almost tentative, as if she was unsure whether she should ask for that comfort or if this was even ok to do. Azzi didn’t hesitate when she saw it. She immediately took Paige’s hand causing the blonde to let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

The subtle exchange didn’t go unnoticed. The rest of the team exchanged glances but said nothing, the weight of the moment pressing them into silence when they would usually make a joke.

Azzi remained close, walking beside her as they left the locker room, her heart aching as she watched Paige, trying her best to hide her tears. Azzi stayed silent, squeezing Paige’s hand, knowing it wasn’t the right time for empty words that wouldn’t change anything.

…

A few days later they were sitting together in Paige’s room, the tension of Paige’s injury still hanging slightly in the air, though there was a quiet calm between the two of them. Paige had her knee elevated, a heating pad resting on it, her face a mix of frustration and exhaustion. The injury was worse than she’d expected. It wasn’t just a sprain or a twist like she hoped—it was a fracture and a torn meniscus. She’d need surgery and would be out for at least two months. The weight of it all had hit her hard when she found out, and while she didn’t mind being surrounded by her teammates, right now, she only really wanted to be around one person. This thought process only added more to her confusion and frustration.

Azzi, understanding the gravity of the situation from when she tore her ACL, had been quietly sitting with her everyday, offering her presence without pressing for details. But now, as Paige spoke about her surgery, Azzi could see the hurt in her eyes.

"I’m scheduled for surgery next week,” Paige was saying, her voice quieter than usual. "They said I’ll be out for a minimum of two months. I know it’s not that long and I’m kinda lucky but it still feels like forever."

Azzi, trying to lighten the mood a little, cracked a joke. "Well, perfect timing then. You’ll be back just in time for March Madness. Look at that, you can’t even make a dent in our run!" She grinned, trying to ease the tension that was in the air.

Paige’s lips curled into a small smile, the tiniest spark of humor returning to her face. She kicked Azzi with her right leg—her healthy leg—and laughed a little, shaking her head. "Yeah, perfect timing," she muttered, her tone still tinged with sarcasm but a little lighter than before.

Azzi held her hands up in mock surrender, exaggerating her defensive stance at Paige kicking her. "Careful there, I’m mobile," she teased, easing back against the headboard of the bed. "This would be a losing game for you. You’re stuck on the bed."

Paige’s grin widened slightly, her eyes glinting with the playful defiance Azzi had grown to know so well. "You think so, huh?" she challenged, though it was clear that the teasing had pulled her out of the heavy space she’d been in for the last couple of days.

"Oh, I know so," Azzi replied, her voice playful and teasing, her smile matching Paige's as she leaned back against the headboard without a worry in the world.

Without warning, Paige’s hand shot out and she tickled Azzi’s side. Azzi squealed in surprise, instantly breaking into laughter and hopping off the bed, trying to get away from Paige’s relentless fingers.

"Hey, that’s no fair!" Paige muttered, her face lighting up with amusement as she tried to push herself up, wincing slightly at the discomfort in her knee. "I can’t get over there that fast."

Azzi pouted exaggeratedly, her laughter still bubbling out as she stood just out of reach. "Tough luck," she teased, grinning widely. "You’ve got a bum leg, so I’ll win the next few rounds."

Paige huffed, settling back into her spot on the bed, though she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You’re lucky I can’t chase you," she muttered, looking at Azzi like she was plotting her next move.

Azzi stuck out her tongue in mock defiance, still standing just out of range. "I’ll take my win. But don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you next time," she teased as she sat back on the bed, crossing her arms with a satisfied grin.

Paige muttered something under her breath, her eyes downcast as she crossed her arms, her mood shifting slightly.

Azzi smirked, leaning in closer with a playful glint in her eyes. "What was that?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

Paige shot back, pouting slightly, her voice almost a whisper, "Nothing, leave me alone."

Azzi couldn't resist teasing her further, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Aww, did I make the big baby sad?" she cooed, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness.

Paige rolled her eyes, trying to hide the small smile threatening to break through. "Stop," she muttered, though the lighthearted teasing was clearly exactly what she needed.

Azzi grinned, enjoying the little back-and-forth, and leaned back into the bed, her eyes softening as she watched Paige. "Okay, okay. I'll stop for now," she said, giving Paige a break from the teasing, though she was clearly pleased to see the faint smile tugging at the older girl's lips.

A while later, the two of them had settled into a comfortable silence. Paige, however, found herself looking at Azzi once again, unable to stop the way her thoughts seemed to linger on her. Azzi noticed, her eyes glancing toward Paige before raising an eyebrow.

"What?" Azzi asked, a teasing edge to her voice.

Paige’s ears flushed pink, and she quickly looked down, feeling the warmth of embarrassment flood through her. "Nothing," she murmured, avoiding Azzi’s gaze. "Just thinking."

Azzi’s curiosity piqued, and she leaned in slightly, her tone soft but insistent. "About what?"

Paige didn’t immediately respond, just shook her head with a light laugh, trying to dismiss the moment. "Nothing," she repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Really."

Azzi studied her for a moment, a smile forming as she relaxed back into the bed. "Alright, keep your secrets weirdo," she teased.

Paige couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at Azzi here and there, her gaze drifting over her without meaning to. Azzi definitely noticed, but she didn’t comment, merely raising an eyebrow at Paige the few times their eyes met. Paige quickly looked away, her heart beating a little faster each time Azzi caught her staring.

She didn’t know when it started—this acute awareness of Azzi, these small details she found herself noticing more and more. Small details that shouldn’t really matter to. Her dimples when she smiled, how her laugh made Paige feel lighter just hearing it, the way Paige couldn’t help but enjoy seeing Azzi’s smile and her brown eyes light up, like they somehow brightened the entire room, how Paige just always wanted Azzi around. Maybe it had started during all the late nights in the gym or maybe it was when Azzi would drag Paige to get a “sweet treat” despite the blonde grumbling everytime. All Paige knew was she liked having Azzi around a lot more than she would admit to anyone else.

December 2021 - DMV

Paige sat on her bed in the quiet of her room, the only sound being the occasional click of her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media absentmindedly. She was struggling a bit because she missed Azzi more than she wanted to admit. Despite talking every day since they left UConn for the break, the physical distance between them made the days feel longer.

She glanced at the clock. It was still early, but she couldn't stand the silence any longer. She reached for her phone and opened FaceTime, her thumb immediately hitting the call button. She leaned back against her pillows, the soft hum of her thoughts swirling in the background, waiting for Azzi to pick up.

The call rang twice before Azzi's familiar face appeared on the screen, her expression laced with that playful, sarcastic grin Paige had come to like a little too much. "Wow you almost made it to a reasonable hour before bothering me today. Bored already?" Azzi teased, raising an eyebrow.

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. "What you doing?" she asked, shifting slightly on her bed to get comfortable.

Azzi panned the camera down, revealing she was lounging in bed, a pile of blankets surrounding her. "Nothing," she said casually, her voice lazy. "Just enjoying the quiet."

"Hm," Paige hummed. "What you doing today?"

Azzi’s eyes glinted with mischief. "Aww, does Paigey miss me?" she teased, her lips curving into that knowing smirk. "You’re all about me now, huh?"

Paige groaned, rolling her eyes again. "No, I’m just bored. That’s all. I’m literally stuck here with nothing to do because I can’t drive."

Azzi chuckled softly, then raised her eyebrows as if she had an idea. "Well, I’m going to a kickback with some friends from high school later. You should come with me."

Paige paused, the offer hanging in the air for a moment. She didn’t know anyone from Azzi’s high school, and she was still recovering from her surgery a week and a half ago, which made her hesitate even more. She bit her lip. "I don’t know, you know I just had surgery. And I don't really know anyone there. They probably hate me for whooping your ass all the time anyway."

Azzi rolled her eyes at the last comment before her face softened into a reassuring smile Paige had grown to be comforted by. "It’s gonna be chill, I promise. Plus you don’t gotta worry about your knee. I’ll be with you the whole time. You know I got you."

Paige’s heart fluttered at the thought of spending time with Azzi, even though she was still a little unsure. The idea of being around a bunch of strangers didn’t sound all that appealing, but the thought of being by Azzi’s side made everything feel a little more manageable.

"I don’t know..." Paige started again, but Azzi interrupted her with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Come on," Azzi coaxed, her voice playful. "Don’t be boring. I’ll take care of you I swear. And if you’re worried about the knee, I’ll literally carry you if I have to."

Paige laughed, shaking her head, though she could already feel the excitement building despite her reluctance. "Alright, fine. I’ll come. But I’m not doing anything but sitting down."

Azzi’s eyes widened, feigning surprise. "Oh, you’re so gonna dance. I’m dragging you on that floor with your stiff knee whether you like it or not."

Paige groaned, though there was a smile on her face now. "Yeah, we’ll see about that."

Azzi’s grin softened, the playfulness replaced with something warmer. "You’re coming, and that’s all that matters. I’ll make sure you’re good the whole time. Nothing you can’t handle."

Paige felt the butterflies stir in her chest as she met Azzi’s gaze through the screen. "Alright, I’m in. But if I get too tired, you’re carrying me out of there."

Azzi laughed, her eyes lighting up with amusement. "Deal. But don’t think I won’t drop you if you start complaining too much."

Paige grinned. "You’re so kind to me. Really."

"Only because you’re special," Azzi teased with a smirk

Much later the conversation had gone on longer than either of them had planned, but it felt impossible to hang up. Even now, with their plans for the night set, neither seemed ready to end the call.

Glancing at the time on her screen, she groaned softly. "Alright, I really need to eat and get ready before I’m late picking you up. My phone’s about to die, and you can’t watch the magic happen."

Paige raised a brow, leaning closer to the camera as if challenging her. "Magic? Azzi, I see you every day. What could possibly be so—"

"Uh-uh," Azzi cut her off, wagging a finger at her through the screen. "This is party-ready Azzi, Paige. Not practice Azzi. There’s a difference, and I’m not giving you a sneak peek."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her grin. "You act like I’m going to be taking notes or something."

Azzi tilted her head, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "You might. Gotta keep some mystery alive, Paigey."

Paige let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Fine, fine. Go charge your phone. Leave me here. Alone. Abandoned."

Azzi grinned, leaning closer to the screen for a moment before softly saying, "You’ll survive. I’ll call you back when I’m on my way."

And just like that, the call ended, leaving Paige staring at her reflection in the now-blank screen. She let out a long sigh before tossing her phone onto the bed beside her.

…

Azzi pulled up outside Paige’s house, her headlights cutting through the early evening darkness. She grabbed her phone and shot Paige a quick text: I’m here. A few minutes later, Paige stepped out, in a hoodie, her crutches tucked under her arms. Azzi hopped out to help, her lips quirking into a teasing smile as she opened the car door for Paige.

“You know, I’m not helpless,” Paige muttered as she settled into the passenger seat.

Azzi smirked as she slid back into the driver’s seat. “I know. But it’s fun watching you try to act tough.”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips.

The car ride was casual at first, filled with light chatter. Azzi talked about her old teammates and how she wasn’t sure who’d actually show up tonight. Paige mostly listened, her responses short but warm.

After a while, the conversation lulled, and Paige found herself sneaking glances at Azzi. The way the dim light from the dashboard highlighted Azzi’s features—her sharp jawline, the curve of her lips, the casual way her hand rested on the steering wheel—it was almost unfair.

Azzi caught her once, her eyes flicking over for a moment before she stopped talking and smiled. “What?”

Paige’s ears turned pink, and she looked out the window. “Nothing. Just… listening.”

“Hmm.” Azzi’s hum was teasing, but she didn’t push it, much to Paige’s relief—and frustration.

When they arrived, Azzi helped Paige out of the car, steadying her for a second as she adjusted her crutches. They walked inside together, the hum of chatter and music growing louder as they stepped into the living room. A few heads turned, and someone called out Azzi’s name.

“Azzi!” one of her old friends greeted her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Yo nice to see you. You want a drink?”

Azzi shook her head. “Nah, I’m driving. Thanks, though.”

The guy turned to Paige, his eyebrows lifting slightly in recognition. “What about you?”

Paige shook her head. “No, I’m good.”

Azzi led Paige to a couch where a few of her former teammates were sitting. They greeted her warmly, the conversation flowing easily as they caught up. Paige mostly stayed quiet. She chimed in here and there when prompted, but for the most part, she sat back, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her hoodie.

Azzi noticed and leaned closer, her voice soft so only Paige could hear. “You good?”

Paige nodded, glancing at her. “Yeah, you know me. Not the most chatty if I don’t know them.”

Azzi smiled, her voice taking on a light teasing tone. “Mmm ok. I’ll make sure I keep you company then.”

The quiet exchange helped Paige relax a little, and soon the two of them were chatting quietly, their heads close together so no one else could hear. Azzi leaned back on the couch, her arm draped casually over the backrest, while Paige leaned in slightly, her knee bouncing as they talked.

At some point, Azzi stood. “I’ll grab us some water, you look parched.”

Paige nodded, watching as Azzi disappeared into the kitchen. For a moment, she was content to sit alone, scrolling idly through her phone. But it didn’t take long for people to notice she wasn’t occupied anymore.

It started with one or two people approaching her hesitantly asking for pictures, but within a few minutes, a small crowd had gathered around her. Paige smiled politely, answering their questions and posing for pictures, though her knee started to ache from standing without her crutches that Azzi had propped up on the wall.

After talking to someone in the kitchen for a bit Azzi returned to the living room, holding two bottles of water, only to pause when she saw the scene. A smirk tugged at her lips as she leaned against the doorway, watching for a moment. Of course, she should’ve known this would happen.

Still, Azzi’s smirk faded slightly when she noticed the tightness in Paige’s smile, the way her weight was shifted entirely to her right knee.

Azzi shook her head and made her way over, weaving easily through the people standing near Paige. “Alright, alright,” she said, her voice cutting through the chatter in a playful way to not draw too much attention. “Give her some room, y’all. She’s gotta rest that superstar knee.”

The crowd dispersed almost immediately, some people backing away sheepishly while others gave her a grin, clearly recognizing her from school as well. Paige glanced at her, relief flashing in her eyes as Azzi handed her one of the bottles.

“Sit,” Azzi said firmly but gently, her hand brushing Paige’s shoulder as she guided her back to the couch.

Paige exhaled as she sank back down, her fingers wrapping around the bottle. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing sideways at Azzi.

Azzi dropped down beside her, leaning back casually. “No problem. You’re the one who decided to be famous, though,” she teased, earning a soft laugh from Paige.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sign up for this part,” Paige muttered, though her tone was light.

Azzi chuckled, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Welcome to the life, Bueckers.

As the crowd thinned out around them, Paige and Azzi settled back into their own bubble of conversation. Paige leaned back against the couch, her bottle of water balanced on her knee. Azzi, ever relaxed, stretched out beside her, one arm resting along the back of the couch.

“So,” Azzi said, her voice soft but teasing, “you having fun yet?”

Paige smiled faintly, glancing at her. “I guess. It’s... different.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Different good or different bad?”

“Good,” Paige replied quickly, then hesitated before adding, “Probably because I’m here with you. If it was anyone else I would be miserable.”

Azzi froze mid-sip of her water, her eyebrow arching higher as she set the bottle down. “Wait a second,” she said, her tone dripping with playful suspicion. “Are you trying to flirt with me, Paige?”

Paige’s eyes widened slightly at the accusation, her ears turned red as she stumbled over her words. “No! I—I was just saying—”

Azzi leaned closer, giving her an amused, knowing look. “Mhm. Sure you were.”

Paige groaned, looking away to hide her flustered expression. “I wasn’t,” she mumbled, though her voice lacked conviction.

Azzi let it go—for now—but the teasing smile never left her lips as she leaned back, clearly picking up on Paige’s reaction.

A little while later though Azzi knew she wasn’t making things up in her head.

One of Azzi’s friends walked by, their arm brushing against Azzi’s as they held a drink, and in the process, the liquid sloshed over the edge, spilling onto Azzi’s shirt.

“Dude you’re drunk!” Azzi exclaimed with a laugh, pulling her shirt away from her skin as it stuck to her chest uncomfortably.

“Sorry!” her friend called back, but Azzi just waved it off.

Paige, however, couldn’t help but glance down. The damp fabric clung to Azzi’s chest, highlighting the curves beneath. She quickly looked away, but it was too late. Azzi had caught her.

Azzi didn’t say anything at first, but her eyes glinted with something as she grabbed a napkin to dab at the spill. After a moment, she set the napkin down and turned toward Paige, her movements a little slow.

“What were you looking at Paige?” Azzi asked, her voice low and teasing as she leaned in slightly

“Nothing!” Paige said quickly, though her voice cracked slightly, betraying her.

Azzi smirked, inching closer until Paige instinctively leaned back against the wall, Azzi made her stand by in the name of getting her knee used to standing. Azzi placed a hand on the table beside Paige, her other hand reaching up to twirl a strand of Paige’s hair around her finger.

“Hmm,” Azzi mused, tilting her head as she studied Paige’s flustered expression. “You sure? Because it kinda looked like you were... distracted.”

Paige swallowed hard, her heart pounding. “I wasn’t.”

Azzi’s smirk deepened as she fluttered her eyelashes, leaning just a fraction closer. “Paigey...” she whispered, her voice almost a purr. “Do you have a crush on me?”

The words sent a jolt through Paige, and she found herself nodding before she could think, her brain short-circuiting under Azzi’s gaze.

Azzi blinked, momentarily surprised by the response, but then her expression softened into something almost unreadable. Her hand stilled in Paige’s hair, her thumb brushing against the strand lightly before she pulled back with a smile.

“Well,” Azzi said softly, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and something else Paige couldn’t quite place. “Good to know.”

Paige stared at her, still trying to process what had just happened, as Azzi settled back into her seat on the couch, acting like nothing had happened. But the glint in her eyes and the slight curve of her lips said otherwise.

Azzi kept her teasing smile as she leaned back into the couch, picking up her drink and taking a casual sip. Paige, still frozen against the wall, tried to compose herself.

“So,” Azzi said after a moment, glancing sideways at Paige, “what’s going on in that head of yours, huh?”

Paige forced a laugh, her voice slightly shaky. “Nothing. Just... thinking about how weird this party is.”

Azzi smirked, clearly not buying it, but she let it slide. “Weird, huh? I don’t know—seems pretty normal to me.” She raised an eyebrow, her tone playful. “Or are you just feeling weird because I called you out?”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “Azzi, please. Don’t start.”

Azzi chuckled. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

Before Paige could respond, someone called Azzi over to the kitchen. She excused herself, leaving Paige to sit there, her thoughts swirling.

When Azzi returned a few minutes later, she plopped back down beside Paige with two more fresh waters. “Here,” she said, handing one to Paige.

“Thanks,” Paige muttered, her cheeks still faintly pink.

Azzi grinned as she twisted the cap off her own bottle. “You’re welcome. You good now, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

Paige glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. “You’re the worst.”

“Nah,” Azzi said, leaning back lazily and tossing her arm along the back of the couch, close enough that her hand brushed Paige’s shoulder. “Apparently you like me too much to think that.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched, betraying the smile she was trying to suppress.

As the night went on, the two of them fell into their usual rhythm of casual conversation as if nothing happened. Paige occasionally chimed in when Azzi’s friends asked her a question, but for the most part, she stayed content in her role as an observer.

It wasn’t until they were heading home that Azzi brought it up again.

The car ride was quiet, the hum of the engine and SZA playing quietly in the background filling the space between them. Paige stared out the window, her knee bouncing slightly in a restless rhythm.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who talks so much,” Azzi said, breaking the silence.

Paige glanced at her, her fingers tightening slightly around her phone she was holding. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi replied, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Paige shifted, trying to focus on the passing streetlights. But then Azzi glanced over at her, catching the faint way Paige’s eyes flickered toward her hands on the steering wheel.

“You keep looking at me,” Azzi said suddenly, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

“I am not!” Paige said, her voice shooting up an octave as her ears turned red.

Azzi laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind. I actually kinda like it.”

Paige groaned, sinking into her seat. “Can we not do this right now?”

Azzi shrugged, her grin never faltering. “Fine. I’ll save it for later.”

Paige sighed, but her lips twitched despite herself hanging on to the way Azzi said she liked it. She glanced at Azzi again out of the corner of her eye, noticing the way the passing streetlights highlighted her profile—her relaxed grip on the wheel, the faint smirk tugging at her lips, the calm confidence she always seemed to carry now.

Deciding to be a little bold and before she could second-guess herself, Paige blurted, “You looked really good tonight.”

Azzi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a moment, the car was silent except for the hum of the music. She glanced at Paige briefly, her expression unreadable, before a small smile curved her lips.

“Thank you Paige,” Azzi said softly, her voice quieter than usual.

Paige’s ears burned, and she quickly turned her gaze back to the window, biting back a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.”

Azzi chuckled, the warm sound filling the space between them. “Too late.”

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, but Paige couldn’t shake the small, knowing smile Azzi wore the rest of the way home.

As they pulled into Paige’s driveway, Azzi shifted the car into park. She glanced at Paige, her earlier teasing replaced by a softer expression. “Well, here you are, safe and sound.”

Paige hesitated, fiddling with her seatbelt. “Do you, um… do you want to stay over? It’s late, and I’d rather you not drive home alone.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her gaze. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Paige rolled her eyes, already pushing the door open. “Azzi, just come in. It’s not a big deal.”

Azzi chuckled softly, unbuckling her seatbelt and following Paige to the door.

When they stepped inside, the faint sound of video game explosions filled the living room. Drew, was sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, his eyes glued to the screen.

Paige sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Yo what are you still doing up?”

Drew jumped up, his boundless energy kicking in as soon as he noticed her. “Paige!” he exclaimed, jumping toward her before his attention shifted to Azzi. His eyes widened slightly, and he hurried to put the controller down, becoming more calm.

“I’m Drew,” he said confidently, holding out his hand like a little gentleman.

Azzi smiled, shaking his hand. “Azzi. Nice to meet you.”

Drew grinned up at her, his voice brimming with admiration. “You’re really pretty.”

Azzi laughed softly, her gaze flicking to Paige. “That seems to be a thing for the Bueckers family tonight.”

Paige groaned, already starting to head toward the stairs, albeit slowly due to her knee. “Oh my god, Drew, go to bed,” she called over her shoulder.

Azzi followed behind her, suppressing a grin as Drew called after them. “Goodnight, Azzi!”

Azzi’s laughter echoed softly as they climbed the stairs, and Paige shook her head, muttering, “I don’t know where he gets it from.”

When they reached Paige’s room, she pushed the door open and gestured for Azzi to come in. “You can hang out in here for a sec I’ll grab you something to drink.”

Azzi stepped inside, taking in the trophies, photos, and basketball memorabilia that decorated the space. “Nice room,” she said, settling onto the edge of Paige’s bed.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Paige teased, disappearing to the kitchen.

Azzi leaned back slightly, her gaze lingering on the doorway where Paige had just disappeared. Her smile softened, and she shook her head, amused at how easily the night had taken such an unexpected—yet intriguing—turn. Anyone with eyes could see that Paige was attractive but Azzi never let thoughts linger too much of anything beyond that. But now Azzi sat there thinking about her and Paige’s dynamic, it definitely wasn’t lost on Azzi how much time they had spent together. How Paige was able to get her out of the bed at all hours of the night with just a FaceTime call. How easily they had fallen into each other's orbit after breaking past the tension they once had.

When Paige returned to her room, she found Azzi standing by her shelf, studying a framed photo of Paige with her teammates. “You were tiny in this,” Azzi commented with a small smile, glancing over her shoulder.

Paige set the drink down on her nightstand, rolling her eyes as she started undoing her bulky metal knee brace. “I wasn’t that small. You were just as scrawny back then.”

Azzi smirked, turning to face her fully. “Yeah, but now I’ve got muscles. You’re still trying to catch up.”

“Whatever,” Paige shot back with a grin, adjusting her leg with a slight wince as she set the brace aside. She got up and moved to her dresser, rummaging through the drawers until she found a soft hoodie and a pair of shorts. “Here,” she said, holding them out to Azzi. “I already put a toothbrush for you in the bathroom.”

Azzi walked over, taking her time as she crossed the room. When she reached for the clothes, her fingers deliberately brushed against Paige’s. The subtle touch lingered just a second too long, and when Paige glanced up, Azzi’s eyes were unreadable but warm.

“Thanks,” Azzi said, her voice light but carrying a hint of something Paige couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” Paige mumbled, quickly stepping back as if the proximity was suddenly overwhelming.

Azzi’s lips curved into a faint smirk, and without another word, she turned and headed for the bathroom. Paige watched her go, her stomach twisting in a way that was both confusing and exciting.

The soft click of the bathroom door brought Paige back to reality, and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She flopped onto her bed, pressing her hands over her face as her mind replayed the look in Azzi’s eyes

When Azzi emerged from the bathroom, the sound of her footsteps was soft but enough to draw Paige's attention. Glancing up from her phone, Paige’s eyes immediately caught on Azzi’s figure as she crossed the room. The oversized hoodie hung loosely on Azzi’s frame, her toned legs visible beneath the hem of her shorts. Her damp curly hair tumbled around her shoulders in an effortless way that made her look almost ethereal.

Paige gulped, quickly averting her gaze before she got caught staring. She swung her knee over the edge of the bed slowly and stood, grabbing her clothes. "I’m gonna hop in the shower now," she said, her voice sounding a little too rushed. "Be right back."

Azzi, who was checking her phone, gave a nonchalant hum of acknowledgment. "Take your time. Don’t hurt yourself, though."

Paige shot her a playful glare. "I’m not that helpless, you know."

Azzi smirked, not looking up. "Sure, you’re not."

With that, Paige escaped into the bathroom, closing the door and letting out a long breath she didn’t know she was holding. What is wrong with me? she thought as she set her clothes down and began the careful process of getting in the shower.

The shower helped clear her head, but it took longer than she anticipated with her knee, which was stiff from the day. By the time she emerged, dressed in her own oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair still damp, she felt a little more composed. That composure, however, faltered the moment she stepped into the room.

Azzi was laid out on Paige’s bed, her hair in curls sprawled everywhere as she scrolled through her phone. She looked entirely too comfortable, her body stretched out and her face lit by the soft glow of the screen.

Paige froze for a moment, her stomach fluttering. Something about seeing Azzi so relaxed in her space made her heart skip a beat. "You look a little too at home," Paige teased, trying to cover the nervousness in her voice.

Azzi turned her head, a slow grin spreading across her face. "You’re the one who invited me in. What did you expect?"

Paige scoffed, moving toward the bed with her hands tucked into the pocket of her hoodie. "Just don’t hog all the pillows," she muttered, sinking down onto the mattress.

Azzi let out a soft laugh, her eyes glinting with amusement. "No promises. You know I sleep a little crazy sometimes."

Paige rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she settled against the headboard. Despite the teasing, the air between them was warm, and Paige found herself relaxing, even if the butterflies in her stomach were stubbornly refusing to settle.

Azzi’s gaze flicked down to Paige’s leg, the faint furrow of concern returning. "Hey," she said, her voice softer now. "Before we knock out, let’s switch spots. You should be on the inside, where your knee’s by the wall."

Paige blinked at her. "I’m fine, Azzi. You don’t have to—"

"Humor me," Azzi interrupted, sitting up and giving her an expectant look. "I’d rather not accidentally knee you in the middle of the night."

Paige hesitated for a moment before sighing dramatically. "Fine. But if I wake up smooshed against the wall, I’m blaming you."

Azzi grinned, already shifting so Paige could scoot over. As Paige moved, Azzi reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a cozy darkness. The faint light from the street outside filtered through the blinds, casting soft patterns on the walls as the two of them settled into place.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the faint rustling of blankets as they got comfortable. The tension was noticeable, though not unpleasant. This was different from the other times they’d ended up in the same bed—those moments had been accidental, born of exhaustion or laziness. The two of them falling asleep watching a movie or Azzi throwing a pillow at Paige in the middle of the night after the blonde fell asleep on Azzi’s beanbag telling her to get in the bed. But now, they were both wide awake, fully aware of each other’s presence in the shared space.

Paige lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Azzi beside her. She could feel the faint warmth of Azzi’s arm, just inches from her own, and it took everything in her not to glance over.

"Well, this isn’t awkward at all," Azzi said suddenly, her soft chuckle breaking the silence.

Paige turned her head, giving her a mock glare. "You saying that made it awkward."

Azzi smirked, rolling her eyes. "No, it didn’t. I was just stating a fact."

"It was fine until you opened your mouth," Paige teased, her voice light but edged with humor.

"Okay, so if I stop talking, we’ll be back to normal?" Azzi challenged, her tone playful as she shifted onto her side to face Paige.

Paige’s lips twitched upward. "I don’t know. I feel like the damage is already done."

"Wow," Azzi said dramatically. "Way to make me feel self-conscious."

"Good," Paige shot back, smiling now.

Azzi shook her head, grinning as she propped her head up on her hand. Her dark eyes studied Paige for a moment before she asked, "So, was today exhausting for you? Or are you secretly a robot and just pretending to be tired?"

Paige laughed softly, glancing at the ceiling. "No, it was exhausting. My knee’s sore from all the moving around, and my social battery is completely drained."

Azzi’s brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering across her face. "Your knee’s sore? Why didn’t you say anything?"

Paige shrugged. "It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve had worse days."

Azzi hummed, not entirely convinced but letting it slide. Her gaze lingered on Paige’s face as the faint light from the window shifted, casting a soft glow that made the blue in Paige’s eyes seem impossibly bright.

For a moment, Azzi found herself captivated, the vivid color catching her off guard. It reminded her of the sky after a storm, a striking clarity that was hard to look away from.

"You’re really pretty, Paige," Azzi murmured, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

Paige turned her head fully toward Azzi, her cheeks flushing slightly. A shy smile crept onto her lips as she whispered back, "You’re really pretty too, Azzi."

Azzi’s heart skipped at Paige’s response, the quiet sincerity in her voice making the moment feel heavier in the best way. Neither of them looked away, the stillness between them now filled with an unspoken understanding.

"Do your eyes always look like that?" Azzi asked softly, almost to herself.

Paige blinked, confused. "Like what?"

"That blue," Azzi said, her voice barely above a whisper. "They seem…different."

Paige’s blush deepened, and she bit her bottom lip to hide her growing smile. "I guess… I don’t know they’re just eyes, Azzi." Paige said, trying to hide just how much those words affected her.

"If you say so," Azzi said, the words so quiet they barely reached Paige’s ears.

The softness of Azzi’s tone settled over them like a blanket, and neither of them spoke again. Paige slowly turned onto her side to look at Azzi, her exhaustion catching up with her as her eyelids began to droop. Azzi stayed where she was, her gaze lingering on Paige’s relaxed features until she finally let herself sink into the quiet comfort of the moment, her eyes closing as she softly held Paige’s forearm.

[ikkyfics]

Happy New Year

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: “Okay, your challenge is… to kiss someone before midnight.” Your heart raced. “I… what?” You looked at them. “It’s simple, you just have to pick someone. Anyone.” Anyone. You knew you should pick someone random, but there was no way. The truth was, since the moment you’d entered the hall, there was only one person you’d even consider. James.

Warnings: fluffy, new year challenge, shy!reader, first kiss

A/N: first fic of the year <333 I would like to wish everyone a happy new year, full of things as wonderful as each one of you

Masterlist

The hall where the party was taking place seemed magical in a way no elaborate spell could replicate. The students who stayed at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays had transformed a space near the Astronomy Tower into a warm celebration, full of twinkling lights, lively music, and laughter echoing from every corner. It was impossible not to feel the joy hanging in the air, but you could hardly focus on what was happening around you.

Your gaze, as always, ended up being drawn to him.

James Potter. With his purposefully messy black hair, the easy smile that seemed to light up any room, and those vibrant blue eyes behind his round glasses, he was a gravitational force for you. There was something about him that made your heart beat a little faster every time he entered the same room. No matter how many times you promised yourself you’d stop looking, it was as if your eyes betrayed your resolve.

You’d known him for years, but he seemed like the kind of person who never stopped surprising you. Always so full of life, so confident, so... him. Even so, nervousness took over every time he spoke to you or smiled in your direction. It wasn’t something you could control; it was like every time he looked at you, the ground disappeared beneath your feet, leaving only an anxious tingling in its place.

Not that there were many interactions between you. Most of the time, James was surrounded by his friends or laughing at one of Sirius’s jokes. But on the rare occasions he spoke to you directly, your mind seemed to completely shut off. You remembered the way he smiled when he asked to borrow the book you were holding in the library weeks ago, his fingers brushing lightly against yours as he took it. Or the time he held the door open for you in Potions class, tossing a casual “Don’t mention it” that left your face burning for the rest of the day. He probably didn’t even think about those moments, but for you, they replayed in your mind like scenes from a film.

And now he was here, in the same hall as you, laughing at something Remus had just said. James’s laugh was unmistakable—loud and contagious—and you couldn’t help but smile, even without knowing why. He looked so at ease, so natural, that it felt like he was a part of everything that made Hogwarts feel like home.

“You’re staring at him again, you know?” The voice of Anne, one of your friends, interrupted your thoughts, and you quickly turned, feeling your face heat up. Miriam was sitting next to you, a mischievous smile on her lips as she watched you.

“I’m not staring,” you mumbled, trying to look away, but Anne’s laughter from across the table made it clear they didn’t believe you.

“Of course not,” Miriam teased. “It’s just that he’s the only thing you’ve looked at for the past thirty minutes.”

You tried to protest but knew it was pointless. They already knew enough about your feelings for James to not be easily convinced.

“Speaking of challenges…” Anne began, a playful glint in her eyes. “You haven’t completed any yet, and midnight’s almost here.”

Your mind was immediately filled with the absurd ideas they’d come up with throughout the night. Earlier, Anne had dared Miriam to steal a piece of pie straight from the teachers’ table. Miriam, in retaliation, made Anne approach a group of friends and hum a ridiculous song. None of you were exempt from the next challenge, and you knew your turn was coming.

“Okay,” Miriam said, leaning closer. “Your challenge is... to kiss someone before midnight.”

Your heart raced.

“I... what?” You looked at them, hoping they were joking, but their mischievous smiles made it clear they were serious.

“It’s simple,” Anne insisted, as if it really were. “You just have to pick someone. Anyone.”

Anyone. The idea made your stomach churn. You knew you should pick someone random, someone who didn’t make your heart race with nervousness, but there was no way. The truth was, since the moment you’d entered the hall, there was only one person you’d even consider. James.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it echoed throughout your body. Your feet were glued to the floor, and the idea of approaching James Potter seemed far too daunting to be real. But the challenge echoed in your mind, along with Anne and Miriam’s expectant gazes. Before you could change your mind, you took a deep breath and stepped forward.

James was alone now, a rare sight, considering he almost always had one of the Marauders by his side. He was standing by the table where some drinks and snacks had been laid out, his back to you. He seemed distracted, fiddling with something on the table, and that gave you the push you needed. Even so, every step toward him felt like a test of courage, and your legs trembled so much you feared tripping before you even reached him.

When you were just a few feet away, he turned, and the world around you seemed to stop. James smiled—that easy, unassuming smile that was somehow devastating at the same time. You felt the air leave your lungs, and for a moment, all you could do was stare. He looked beautiful, as always, with his messy black hair falling slightly over his forehead. The round glasses gave him a unique charm, and those blue eyes shone with an intensity that made your heart nearly leap out of your chest.

“Hey,” he said, his voice relaxed but with a warm tone that made you feel strangely safe, even as anxiety swirled inside you. “Want a drink?” He held up a glass of juice you hadn’t even noticed he was holding.

“Oh, no... I mean, yes... no, thanks,” you stammered, feeling your face heat as your words came out completely jumbled. He chuckled, a low, genuine sound that seemed to tickle your stomach.

“Sure? I promise I didn’t put anything weird in here. At least, not much,” he joked, his smile widening as he took a sip of his own drink.

You shook your head, trying to ignore how dry your throat felt. “No, I... I’m fine. I just... thought I’d come talk to you.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m honored,” he said, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “What did you want to talk about?”

You swallowed hard, trying not to look like a complete idiot. “Nothing important. Just... do you like these parties? I mean, do you actually have fun, or do you just come because all your friends are here?”

The question came out completely nonsensical, and you immediately wished you could disappear. James, however, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he smiled even more.

“I like them,” he replied, leaning slightly against the table as if to seem closer. “I mean, it’s hard not to have fun when you’ve got Sirius trying to dance and Remus trying to stop him from breaking something. What about you? Are you enjoying it, or did your friends drag you here?”

“Oh, they definitely dragged me,” you admitted, feeling the words flow more easily as he kept the tone light. “They do these things... silly challenges and stuff.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Challenges, huh? So, have you done any, or are you hiding from them?”

You felt your face grow even warmer and glanced away, focusing on anything but his eyes. “Actually... not yet.”

“So you are hiding,” he concluded with a soft laugh. “Well, at least you had the courage to come over here. That’s a start.”

His words, spoken so lightly, seemed to strike something deep inside you. Courage. That’s exactly what you lacked right now, but you knew you had to try. So, before your mind could sabotage your intentions, you blurted out:

“Would you... if I... would you mind if I kissed you?”

The question escaped so quickly and nervously that you barely registered the words before they were out. When silence followed, the urge to run overtook you—disappear before he could respond. But then James did something you didn’t expect. He blinked, briefly surprised, and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he smiled in a way that made your heart stop.

“Please,” he said softly, his voice warm and full of meaning.

And before you could process what that meant, the countdown to midnight began. The voices around you felt distant as James took a step closer, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your entire body tingle. It felt as though time slowed when he raised a hand, gently cradling your face, his thumb softly brushing against your heated cheek.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured, almost like a promise, before leaning in slowly and pressing his lips to yours.

The world around you seemed to disappear completely, leaving only you and James in that moment that felt infinite. The kiss was as soft as it was at first, but the way he held you revealed something deeper. His arm found its way around your waist, pulling you gently closer, as though even a sliver of distance might shatter the moment. His touch was firm yet tender, and you melted into him, warmth radiating from every point where your bodies met.

His lips moved against yours with a certainty you never imagined experiencing. It was as if he knew exactly how to make you feel safe, desired, and important. The way he tilted his head slightly, adjusting the angle of the kiss, made every second feel new and even sweeter. Without realizing it, your fingers found the edge of his jacket, holding onto it lightly because your knees threatened to give way.

His scent—something fresh, like open air with a hint of wood—filled your senses, and the texture of his lips, soft yet so assured, made it impossible to think of anything else. There was a perfect balance between tenderness and intensity, and you realized, with a flush spreading across your cheeks, that you would never forget this moment. He was there, entirely present, as though nothing outside of this existed—just you.

When he finally began to pull away, it was slow, almost as though he wanted to savor the moment for as long as possible. His thumb traced lightly along the side of your face before he opened his eyes. You barely had time to recover before you saw those bright blue eyes shining, a mixture of admiration and pure happiness.

That’s when he said your name.

You blinked, surprised, a shiver running down your spine at how intimately he spoke it, as if he were holding something precious. Hearing your name from his lips felt strange, but in a way that made your heart race even faster. You hadn’t spoken much before. How did he know?

“How do you know my name?” you asked, your voice so quiet it barely sounded like your own. Your eyes searched his, seeking answers in every small expression that crossed his face.

James smiled—not just any smile, but the one that seemed to light up the entire room. He raised a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face gently before answering.

“I pay attention,” he said, with a natural ease that only made him more irresistible. “Did you really think I didn’t notice you? How you always look down when you’re talking to someone, or how you get nervous when you think someone’s watching? I notice. And I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times…”

You were speechless, completely captivated by his tone, by the way he seemed so genuine. He continued, as though it was impossible to stop now that he’d begun.

“I just never knew how to approach you. You always seemed so... distant. And I thought maybe you wouldn’t want someone like me to talk to you. But... you’re here now. And I won’t pretend I’m not happy about that.”

Your heart was pounding, and you didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at you made your knees feel even weaker, but something about his words gave you unexpected courage.

“I… I’ve always wanted to talk to you too,” you admitted, your voice hesitant but sincere. “I just didn’t know how.”

James smiled again, softer this time, more intimate. “Well, I guess we’ve figured it out now, haven’t we?”

You laughed nervously, but he tightened his grip on your waist slightly, as if to reassure you that you weren’t going anywhere. Then, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he said:

“I was thinking... maybe we could continue this conversation later. Just the two of us. What do you think?”

Your heart leapt, and you could hardly believe what you were hearing. “Are you… asking me out?”

“I am,” he replied without hesitation. “And I’m hoping you’ll say yes because I don’t want to miss the chance to really get to know you.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Yes,” you said, almost unable to believe your own words. “I’d love to.”

He grinned in a way that made your chest swell with a joy as light as the crisp night air. “Great. Best way to start the year, don’t you think?”

And with that, he gave your waist one last gentle squeeze, as if to confirm that this moment was real. The sound of fireworks began in the distance, but nothing seemed more important than his gaze, still locked on yours, as if he could stay there forever.

[rafecameronssl4t]

hiii, i was wondering for the rafe tennis au if u could make a story based on the “he just comes running over to me sound.” it’s basically just based on the pole vaulter running straight to his gf right after winning, everyone is taking pics of the moment and trying to congratulate him but he’s only focused on gf!reader.

Running over to me || Tennis player!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: I love Desiré and Mondo sm 😭😭😭

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 861

MASTERLIST (tennis player!rafe au masterlist)

The ball skimmed over the net, spinning wildly as it bounced just inside the line. His opponent lunged, reaching for a desperate return, but the shot sailed long. The crowd roared, a tidal wave of sound crashing over the court as Rafe Cameron fell to his knees, clutching his tennis racquet in both hands.

Sweat dripped from his brow, mixing with the tears he couldn’t hold back. He’d done it. He’d won Wimbledon. His opponent, Alex De Minaur, stood at the net, waiting for the traditional handshake. But Rafe’s mind was elsewhere. His eyes scanned the crowd feverishly until they landed on you, you were in his players’ box.

You were on your fee clapping, tears streaming down your face as you beamed at him. Rafe didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t care about the protocol or the cameras capturing every moment. He dropped his racquet and sprinted across the court, his long legs carrying him faster than seemed possible after hours of grueling play.

Gasps and cheers erupted as he leapt over the barrier separating the court from the players’ box.“Rafe!” you cried, barely audible over the cheers, but he heard you. He always did. In a heartbeat, he was there, arms wrapping around you so tightly you could hardly breathe. His chest heaved against yours as he lifted you off your feet, spinning you in a circle.

The world blurred around you, the crowd’s noise fading to a dull hum as his lips found yours. The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, as though he needed to reassure himself that this moment was real. His hands cradled your face, thumbs brushing away your tears as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

“I did it,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I did it, baby.” “You did, Rafe,” you choked out, your voice thick with pride and love. “I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you again, softer this time, as if savouring the moment. Around you, the cameras clicked and flashed incessantly, capturing every angle of your embrace.

The world watched as Rafe Cameron, the newly crowned champion of Wimbledon, poured every ounce of emotion into the kiss. The broadcasters’ commentary shifted from his monumental victory to the passionate celebration unfolding court-side. Fans were on their feet, phones held high as they recorded the embrace that was already destined to go viral.

“Rafe, the handshake,” you murmured against his lips, your hands gently pushing against his chest. But he didn’t let go. “It can wait,” he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours. “No, it can’t,” you insisted, though your smile betrayed how much you adored his impulsiveness. “Go. This is your moment. I’ll be right here.”

With great reluctance, he released you, brushing a final kiss across your forehead before turning back toward the net. Alex had an amused yet understanding look, extending his hand as Rafe approached. “Sorry, man,” Rafe said, gripping his hand firmly. “Got a little carried away.”

“Would’ve done the same,” Alex opponent replied with a laugh, patting Rafe on the back. The applause intensified as Rafe turned to acknowledge the crowd, raising his arms triumphantly. But even as he basked in the glory, his eyes sought you out again. You stood where he’d left you, your hands clasped over your heart, smiling through tears.

The presenters were waiting, trophy in hand, but Rafe took a moment to jog back to you. He reached out, pulling you under the rope separating the court from the stands. “You’re coming with me,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours. “Rafe, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” And just like that, you were by his side as he accepted the gilded trophy.

His speech was heartfelt but brief, the first words out of his mouth a dedication to you. “This isn’t just my victory,” he said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “It’s ours. You’ve been my rock, my inspiration, and my reason to fight through every setback. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

The crowd erupted again, and as you stood there, hands wrapped around his waist, you realised this was more than just a victory for Rafe. It was a moment that symbolised everything the two of you had built together. As the cameras continued to flash, Rafe leaned down, whispering in your ear, “Guess we’re the headline now.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You are. I’m just the emotional girlfriend who can’t stop crying.” “You’re my everything,” he corrected. And in that moment, standing on the most iconic court in tennis, you knew he meant every word.

[extinctlesspains]

hiiiiii Can you do Sae byeok x fem reader Where they are best friends but act like a couple (Holding hands, kissing each others cheek and Beck, cuddleing/spooning each other, reader sitting on Sae byeoks lap, ect.) and everyone/ her parents think that you two are a couple. Thank you and have a Good Day or night

𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡? [𝐾.,𝑆𝑎𝑒-𝐵𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑘]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴀɴɢ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ғʟᴜғғ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʙᴇsᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙᴏɴᴅ ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴀɴᴅ-ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ, ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴋɪssᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ, ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs, sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ ᴋɪssᴇs ʏᴏᴜ, ʙʟᴜʀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴡᴀʏ.

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴋɪssɪɴɢ

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

You and Sae-byeok had been inseparable since middle school, bound together by the shared struggles of growing up and navigating life’s unpredictability. From the moment you met, there had always been something unspoken between the two of you—an unshakeable closeness that most people would mistake for a relationship.

It was just how you were with each other.

You held hands when you walked through crowded streets, Sae-byeok’s strong grip always tugging you closer when she felt someone brush too close. She’d instinctively kiss your temple whenever she saw you stress over exams, and you’d kiss her cheek in return when she did well on something.

Sitting in her lap wasn’t unusual, either. Whenever the two of you watched movies or studied together, it was the most natural thing in the world for you to curl up against her, your arms slung lazily around her neck while she absentmindedly twirled strands of your hair around her fingers.

Her parents, who adored you like their own daughter, had long since given up trying to figure out the nature of your relationship. “You two are so cute together,” her mother would say with a fond smile as she handed you a cup of tea. “When will you finally make it official?”

You’d always laugh awkwardly, glancing at Sae-byeok to see how she reacted. But she never seemed bothered by the assumption, simply shrugging it off or teasingly resting her head on your shoulder.

But the truth was… sometimes you wished it were true.

One chilly evening, you found yourself in Sae-byeok’s room, bundled up in her bed after a long day. She’d insisted you stay over since it was too cold to walk home, and you didn’t need much convincing. The two of you had shared a bed so many times it didn’t even feel strange anymore.

Now, lying tangled together under the blankets, you felt her arm drape around your waist, her breath warm against the back of your neck. Your hand reached back to rest on hers, tracing small circles with your thumb.

“Comfy?” she asked softly, her voice low and soothing in the quiet.

“Always,” you replied, turning slightly so you could see her face. Her dark eyes looked softer in the dim light of the room, and you felt a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

Moments like this made you wonder.

“Sae,” you began hesitantly, “do you think… maybe everyone has a point? That we act more like a couple than just friends?”

She blinked, her expression unreadable as she tilted her head slightly. “Does it bother you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… sometimes, I wonder if I want it to be real.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, and you held your breath, worried you might’ve crossed some kind of invisible line. But then Sae-byeok shifted, her hand slipping from your waist to gently cup your cheek.

“Maybe it already is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced as her thumb brushed against your skin. You searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all you saw was the same steady calmness that had always grounded you.

And then, before you could overthink it, her lips were on yours—soft, warm, and familiar in a way that felt like coming home.

The kiss didn’t change much between you, at least not outwardly. You still held hands, kissed each other’s cheeks, and cuddled like nothing had happened. But the energy between you felt lighter now, less burdened by uncertainty.

The next time her mother teased you about being a couple, Sae-byeok’s lips twitched into a barely concealed smile, and she laced her fingers through yours.

“We’ll see,” she said simply, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

And just like that, everything and nothing had changed.

[woso-story]

Alexia's Soft Side

Alexia Putellas x Reader

It was a quiet Sunday morning, and the soft hum of Barcelona's streets filtered through the open windows of your shared apartment. You were in the kitchen, brewing coffee, when Alexia’s phone buzzed on the counter. She was still in bed, relishing the rare chance to sleep in, so you glanced at the screen. A text from Irene lit up:

You smiled, already picturing Alexia with Irene’s baby boy. There was something magical about watching her with kids, a side of her so tender and unguarded that it never failed to take your breath away. You quickly typed out a reply, knowing Alexia wouldn’t mind.

"Any chance you two could babysit Mateo today? Just for a few hours. We have some errands to run."

By the time Irene arrived with Mateo a couple of hours later, Alexia was awake and lounging on the couch in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She sprang to her feet as soon as Irene walked in, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the baby.

"Of course. Bring him over whenever."

"Hola, Mateo!" Alexia cooed, reaching out to take him from Irene. Mateo, all round cheeks and wide, curious eyes, gurgled happily as Alexia held him close.

Irene handed over a diaper bag and gave you both a quick rundown of his schedule. "He’s been teething, so he might get a bit fussy," she warned, though Mateo seemed perfectly content in Alexia’s arms, grabbing at her hair with tiny fists.

"No problem," Alexia said, her voice softer than usual. She kissed the top of Mateo’s head, and your heart gave a little flutter.

After Irene left, the three of you settled into a relaxed rhythm. Mateo crawled around the living room, exploring everything within reach while Alexia stayed close, ready to catch him if he got too adventurous. You watched from the couch, sipping your coffee and marveling at how natural she looked.

"Look at him go," Alexia said, laughing as Mateo attempted to climb over her leg. She caught him gently, lifting him into the air, and Mateo let out a delighted squeal.

"You’re good at this," you said, setting your coffee down and joining them on the floor.

Alexia glanced at you, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "It’s easy with him. He’s so... uncomplicated," she said, her voice tinged with affection.

You watched as she held Mateo close, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek. It was rare to see her like this—completely at ease, her usual intensity replaced by something softer. Alexia was always so focused, so serious about her responsibilities, whether it was on the pitch or in her personal life. But with Mateo, all of that melted away. She was playful, relaxed, and undeniably sweet.

---

When Mateo started to get fussy, Alexia took him into the kitchen to prepare a bottle. You followed, leaning against the counter as you watched her work. She held the baby in one arm while using her free hand to warm the milk, her movements precise yet gentle.

"You’re a multitasking pro," you teased.

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. "You have to be with kids, no?"

Once Mateo had his bottle, he settled down again, his tiny fingers clutching Alexia’s hoodie as he drank. She sat on the couch with him cradled in her arms, her eyes fixed on his face with an expression so tender it made your chest ache.

"You’d make an amazing mom someday," you said softly, sitting down beside her.

Alexia looked at you, her lips curving into a small smile. "You think so?"

"I know so," you replied. "Look at you. He’s completely at ease with you. And the way you look at him..." You trailed off, feeling a lump form in your throat.

Alexia’s expression grew thoughtful. "I’ve always wondered about that, you know," she admitted. "If I could balance it all—the career, the responsibilities... a family."

"You could," you said firmly. "You’re the most capable person I know. And when the time comes, you’ll figure it out, like you always do."

She leaned over, resting her forehead against yours. "You’d be part of that family, right?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course," you said, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions in your chest.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur of simple, joyful moments. Mateo fell asleep in Alexia’s arms while you read a book aloud to her, the soft rhythm of your voice filling the room. When Irene came to pick him up, she took one look at Mateo’s peaceful face and smiled.

"You two are naturals," she said.

After Irene left, Alexia wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close. "You were amazing with him too, you know," she said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You think so?" you asked, leaning into her warmth.

"I know so," she replied, echoing your earlier words.

And as you curled up together on the couch, the apartment quiet once more, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d gotten a glimpse of a beautiful future—a life where the two of you weren’t just partners, but a family.

[syntheticcharmva]

I and my family are facing a crisis I never saw coming. My father has turned his back on us, and I'm terrified of what's next. I still need to escape this situation. Please, if you can, share or donate. Every bit helps even just a dollar, if enough people see, it adds up. I hope you can forgive me the near spam posting... but this stuff usually only succeeds if you're persistant about it, and whilte I look for every possible way to do it on my own, I really have to reach out to the community. Thanks to you all we got 6 percent of the goal

In 2 days, that's wild... from the bottom of my heart this means so much. but I really hope we can get out of this awful position we were so suddenly put in. 10k and 20k are gonna be a big help if we hopefully reach that far, but I know 30k will make it so we can actually leave this awful situation safe and sound without massive sacrifices. we've got pets we care for deeply, they're family, and he doesn't even consider that... this man has never cared for us though he claims otherwise, and now threatens us with pulling the one supportive thing he agreed to supply from under us at a pivitol moment in all our lives. I'm sad, angery, depressed, and oh so very tired... I'm sorry for the ramble, but I have been unable to sleep the past few nights because of the anxiety this has caused within me. I want to thank you all again for sharing, for donating, even just the well wishes helps a lot. you have all been wonderful, and I can't thank you enough. This has eased at least some of the immediate fear, but we're still a long way off from safety.

[kdyq]

Noxian legacy

Part three of my mini series

context You and Ambessa share heartfelt moments all while preparing for the arrival of your child.

The sun cast a soft golden glow across the estate as you stood in the entry hall adjusting the buttons of your coat. Ambessa appeared from her study, already dressed in her sharp dark attire. Her golden eyes softened as they landed on you.

“Are you ready?” she asked her deep voice steady but also nervous.

You nodded smiling despite the fluttering in your stomach. “Are you?”

Ambessa gave a low chuckle stepping closer to rest her large hand on your back. “I’ve fought wars and faced councils but this…” She trailed off shaking her head as a rare small smile tugged at her lips. “This is entirely new.”

The two of you set off for the Hextech facility the journey unusually quiet. Ambessa held your hand the entire way with her grip firmly. When you arrived a staff member greeted you and led you into a private room with advanced equipment.

The healer an older woman with kind eyes gestured for you to lie down on the cushioned table. Ambessa lingered close her arms crossed but her gaze never leaving the healer’s hands as she watched the healer prepare the instruments.

“This might feel a little cold” the healer said spreading a clear gel across your abdomen.

You flinched slightly at the cool sensation and Ambessa immediately leaned closer her brows knitting together. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” you reassured her placing your hand over hers.

The healer adjusted the monitor and pressed the wand against your skin. For a moment the room was silent except for the faint hum of the machine. Then the screen flickered to life displaying a small flickering shape.

“There it is” the healer said softly angling the screen so you and Ambessa could see.

You turned to look at Ambessa expecting her usual composed demeanor. Instead her eyes were fixed on the screen wide with wonder. Her hand tightened around yours as she leaned in closer her breath catching.

“That’s…” She paused her voice steady but creaking. “That’s our child.”

Tears fall from your eyes as you nodded. “Yeah. That’s them.”

For a moment the world seemed to stop. Ambessa’s usually stoic expression melted away replaced by raw emotion. Her free hand reached out hesitantly as if she could touch the tiny life on the screen.

“Strong heartbeat” the healer noted pointing to the rhythmic pulse on the monitor.

Ambessa’s lips parted and a rare tear glistened in the corner of her eye. She quickly blinked it away but you caught it your heart swelling at the sight.

“Do you want a picture to take home?” the healer asked breaking the spell.

Ambessa straightened clearing her throat. “Yes. Definitely.”

After the appointment Ambessa suggested stopping by Mel’s residence for a quiet dinner she had arranged in your honor. To your surprise Mel greeted you warmly her usual sharp demeanor softened.

“Halfway there” Mel said with a small smile raising a glass in your honor.

The dinner was intimate with Mel Ambessa and you sharing stories laughter and heartfelt toasts. Despite their differences you could see a subtle warmth between Mel and her mother a rare connection fostered by the new life growing within you.

“You’ll make a fine parent” Mel said at one point surprising Ambessa with her sincerity. “And I’ll make a fine aunt.”

Ambessa’s chest swelled with pride and she pulled you closer. “You’ll have to fight me to be the child’s favorite” she teased her protective tone softening the moment.

The evening ended with quiet laughter and a sense of unity you hadn’t expected filling you with hope for the future.

When you returned to the estate Ambessa led you to a secluded part of the grounds where a vibrant garden awaited. “I had this prepared for you” she said gesturing to the cozy benches the flowering trees and the gentle stream running through the space.

“For me?” you asked touched.

“For you” she confirmed “and for the moments you need peace. I know this journey won’t always be easy but you’ll have this our sanctuary.”

You gazed at her overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness and smiled. “I love it. And I love you.”

Ambessa pulled you into her arms her embrace warm and steady. “I love you too” she murmured. “And I will love our child with everything I have.”

Later that evening as you prepared for bed Ambessa emerged from her study carrying a small ornately carved box. She set it gently on the table beside you and opened it revealing a shimmering necklace adorned with an intricate Noxian insignia.

“This” she began her voice deep and stern“is a piece of my family’s legacy. In Noxus it’s tradition to pass this down to the next generation.”

You stared at the necklace its craftsmanship stunning and looked up at her. “You’re giving this to me?”

Ambessa nodded. “It’s for our child but until they’re born I want you to keep it close. As a promise. A bond.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached for the necklace. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Ambessa stepped closer her hands cupping your face. “You are the one who brought light into my life. And now you’ve given me something I never thought I’d have a future worth fighting for.”

You kissed her deeply feeling the weight of her words and the strength of your love.

As the rain began to patter softly against the windows you curled up together in bed the necklace resting on your chest and Ambessa’s arms securely around you. For the first time in her life she allowed herself to imagine a future filled with love family and peace.

“THE END”

AN/

This series is so fun and it makes me happy that yall are exactly liking my stories. I genuinely made this page just strictly for me to post stories that I have made up or stories that I have seen and wondered how it would be if it was in a different character but I never knew it would blow up like this thank you all so much fr and happy new year!!!!

[buckbuckbarnesstuff]

I loved Boulevard Confessions so deeply and this is just the sweetest continuation of their love story. It makes me so whole. This is so cozy and intimite. I am always amazed at the way you are able to make me feel! 🤧😍💕💕

Lemme dive a little deeper and buckle up because I'm gonna shower you with all my love:

“Bucky, you’re freezing!” you say with concern and caught off guard by the piercing chill of his hands. How long had he been out in the cold? 

I always love how you make the reader so soft with him. He deserve the best and it warms my heart that he has someone who cares and worries about him, especially when it comes to the littlest things. 💜

“Not anymore,” he mutters a response as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his icy lips pressing kisses into your skin. A shiver goes down your spine as the frost on his lips melts away into a heat that you’re used to. 

Getting so weak at his affection. Love how he is so comfortable. Love how he shows his adoration. I wish I could have him so bad 🥹💕😩

You twist in his arms to face him, pulling him even closer by his wool jacket to kiss the tip of his reddened nose, hoping to bring warmth back to it. Bucky grins at you with a gentle adoration, even more so when you brush off the remnants of winter from his hair and shoulders. His eyes take in your every feature like he wants to commit this moment to memory. 

Loving the fact that he wears a wool jacket. It’s just such a lovely detail and I can picture him looking so cozy and inviting and adorable 🥹 And there we have her softness for him again, it’s so sweet. And him watching her this intensely, making this small moment seem so monumental for him, is so perfect!! I feel my heart swell. 💜💖

Bucky shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down from his shoulders, but before they can go anywhere, he swiftly intertwines them with his own. He uses this small leverage to begin coaxing you out of the kitchen and into the living room with gentle tugs. “Dinner can wait, doll. I want to dance with my best girl first,” he replies, his expression full of pleading affection. 

Best girl always gets me so weak, I'm about to be a puddle on the floor for you to wipe me away. And dancing in the kitchen? Hello? Please tell me where to find a man to do this with me because damn, I'd be marrying him on the spot. Bucky is so wholly romantic, I'm swooning. 🥵🧡💛

“I love you, Y/n. I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to start,” Bucky’s voice is full of devotion, bringing your left hand up to his lips to kiss the spot right where your engagement ring is. You look at him as if he hung the moon for you, “I love you too, Bucky. Forever can’t come soon enough.” Your hands snake up to wrap behind his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss, the kind that consumes as quickly as a spark catches fire. However, before the intensity can reach a boiling point, a loud ringing suddenly breaks it. The timer in the kitchen signaling whatever desires were igniting would have to be put on pause until after dinner. 

This is just the cherry on top! Like this whole thing wasn’t already perfect, you just needed to top it with this. His love declaration, the way he kisses the engagement ring, the way she looks at him, THAT KISS - I can’t handle myself omg!!! I don’t have asthma but I'm definitely gonna be needing an inhaler!!!! 😳❤🥹💕💕

“After dinner, I’m having you for dessert.” 

Not gonna argue with that 👀

Thank you so much for granting us this wonderful piece of art. I tell you that you're amazing every time and I don’t care if you get tired of hearing it because you are so incedibly talented and I adore you and the way your words carve into the deepest parts of my heart in all the good ways. I just want you to hear it as often as possible because you deserve it so badly. ❤👏❤

Thank you so much, many kisses and hugs go out to you!!!!

Dancing Embers

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader

Summary: A cozy cabin, the love of your life, and the warmth of a fire. What more could you ask for on a cold winter night?

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. slight insinuation at the end. female reader.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> a crackling fire sets the mood

a/n: This piece is written as a standalone. However, I will link below the pairing this fic is based on in case you want to read more of them. For context, this timeline is one where Bucky made it back from the war safe and sound and is enjoying his life now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

how their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

The hum of the radio travels through the air and finds its way into the kitchen where you’re placing tonight’s dinner in the oven. A puff of hot air caresses your face as you close the oven door, the casserole dish cocooned inside by a blazing heat. You pick up the small timer from the counter and twist the dial, setting it for thirty minutes. 

Now, you have to find something to do to pass the time…

You look around the unfamiliar kitchen, its rustic woodsy furnishing a cozy contrast to the one in your apartment in the city. A smile makes its way to your face as you recall how Bucky surprised you with this weekend getaway. It was after you came home from a shift at the children’s clinic—exhaustion heavy in your bones. An exhaustion he eased with a homecooked meal and a plethora of loving kisses. All leading up to the surprise of a weekend trip just for the two of you, presented to you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a handwritten note.

You started packing right away after that. 

While still ruminating on the joy of the memory, you begin to tidy up the mess in the kitchen—the one left from your dinner preparations. There wasn’t much to clean up—bits of leftover ingredients here and a few prep dishes there—but at least it gives you something to do while the timer counts down in the background. 

Out of the blue, a frosty air embraces you from behind. You let out a small squeal as the arms that usually radiate warmth are bitterly cold against your skin. A sharp intake of breath escaping you at the contact.

“Bucky, you’re freezing!” you say with concern and caught off guard by the piercing chill of his hands. How long had he been out in the cold? 

“Not anymore,” he mutters a response as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his icy lips pressing kisses into your skin. A shiver goes down your spine as the frost on his lips melts away into a heat that you’re used to. 

You twist in his arms to face him, pulling him even closer by his wool jacket to kiss the tip of his reddened nose, hoping to bring warmth back to it. Bucky grins at you with a gentle adoration, even more so when you brush off the remnants of winter from his hair and shoulders. His eyes take in your every feature like he wants to commit this moment to memory. 

When it comes to you, he always does. There’s never been a moment with you he doesn’t hold dear in his heart. His time at war taught him to treasure every second he gets with those he loves most. And of course, as the love of his life, that includes you. 

“I’m going to need more than that to warm up, doll,” he claims playfully, before connecting his lips to yours, pulling you flush against him by your waist. Your arms eagerly wrap around his shoulders, melting into him faster than the snow on his body does. The kiss is sweet, yet profound as if the hour spent apart had been entirely too long for the both of you. 

When the kiss has restricted enough air from your lungs, you both pull away only slightly and out of breath, smiling from ear to ear. You collect yourself enough to say, “Dinner should be ready soon.” Bucky, however, has his attention elsewhere as he plants a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then your lips once more. 

“Sounds. Good. Doll,” he mumbles the words between kisses that leave you in a fit of giggles. A sound that almost drowns out the grumbling of his stomach. 

“Someone’s hungry.”

“Mm, chopping lumber will do that to you.”

“Chopping lumber?”

“For the fireplace. I should probably go and get it started.”

Bucky lets out an exaggerated sigh, not entirely keen on going back out into the cold night. He presses a tender kiss to the top of your head before reluctantly detaching his arms from your waist as he heads back outside. He spends the next few minutes hauling in pieces of wood into the living room where he tends to the fireplace. Meanwhile, you get the dining table ready for your dinner for two. 

As you are on the brink of finishing setting up, you notice the radio gets louder—a slow song replacing the previous hum. It’s not long before Bucky comes back into the kitchen, however, this time he’s swaying slowly to the rhythm of the music. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as his hands outstretch to beckon you to him. 

“Dance with me,” he says, taking hold of your hands and placing them on his shoulders. You laugh softly, looking at him with fond mirth. “Maybe later, sweetheart. Dinner’s almost ready,” you mention, glancing at the mechanical timer that would go off in a few minutes.

Bucky shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down from his shoulders, but before they can go anywhere, he swiftly intertwines them with his own. He uses this small leverage to begin coaxing you out of the kitchen and into the living room with gentle tugs. “Dinner can wait, doll. I want to dance with my best girl first,” he replies, his expression full of pleading affection. 

You can never say no when he looks at you like that. 

You throw the image of the timer to the back of your head and follow Bucky into the center of the living room. To your right, the fireplace crackles beautifully with bright embers, cascading the room in an amber glow. To your left, the coffee table, handcrafted in oak, is pushed up against the sofa, giving you enough space by the fireplace to dance. 

Bucky’s hands find purchase at your waist as he anchors you closer. Your hands settle against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Soon your hips and his gradually sway in sync, letting the melody of the song guide you. 

You hold each other close for what seems like a lifetime, the heat of the fire amplifying the warmth that radiates between you. Its flames flicker alongside you as if slow dancing themselves. The serenity of the moment forever engraves itself into your heart. 

“I love you, Y/n. I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to start,” Bucky’s voice is full of devotion, bringing your left hand up to his lips to kiss the spot right where your engagement ring is. You look at him as if he hung the moon for you, “I love you too, Bucky. Forever can’t come soon enough.” Your hands snake up to wrap behind his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss, the kind that consumes as quickly as a spark catches fire. However, before the intensity can reach a boiling point, a loud ringing suddenly breaks it. The timer in the kitchen signaling whatever desires were igniting would have to be put on pause until after dinner. 

“Dinners ready,” neither of you are ready to break apart when you whisper this. A beat passes and Bucky lifts your chin gently with his finger, so your gaze locks with his adoring one.

“One more kiss.”

“The casserole is going to burn.” 

“Just one more?”

There he goes again with that pleading expression you can’t resist. 

“You know it won’t be just one more, James Buchanan Barnes,” you point out and he lets out a hearty chuckle. 

“You know me so well Mrs.Barnes-to-be.” 

He kisses you again anyway—short and sweet—leaving you with a promise for more to hold onto. Your laughter mixes with his as you lead him back to the kitchen. He hugs you from behind one last time as he whispers an enticing promise into your ear. 

“After dinner, I’m having you for dessert.”