#super junior soft

[alabasterpickles]

Silly quick lil comic about Junior having a nightmare and dad being an excellent sport because I thought the idea would be cute

[braemjeorn]

yes, kim jaejoong was the original sm golden flower that later derives to taeyong and sungchan but can we talk abt this genre of sm visuals?

the lines and the vibe is there, u get me? not sure if its the full brows over soft, low visual weight eyes, centred with a fine long nose and full soft lips in slightly different font but maybe? let's talk abt it

[growingwithem]

Eunhyuk holding on to Kyuhyun's arm 🖤

[bb-donghae]

My Little Charmander 😭

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Not My Business

Danny Fenton develops a unique set of skills throughout his life. He knew how to disarm a bomb when he was seven, thanks to his Dad making minebombs in the front yard as a ghost defense. (They only covered humans in ecto-goo, but it was the same concept of not wanting to have it explode on him)

He knew how to fight with a bo-staff only because he had to fight off the meals his parents brought back to life with a broom. He knew how to balance a checkbook, file tax forms, and properly build credit by the time he was ten, thanks to the years his parents ran a business at the kitchen table.

His sister taught him how to charm rude customers with a smile, how to lie without flinching, and how to complete all his assignments on time, despite having only a few hours to do so. She spent a lot of time volunteering, often dragging him along, which allowed Danny to build up his resume with both soft and hard skills he likely would never have thought there was a name for.

Problem-solving, teamwork, communication, time management, adaptability, data analysis, cybersecurity, data entry, and copywriting were the skills that Jazz focused on the most. She all but beat them into his head.

Along with cooking, sewing, basic plumbing, basic mechanics, and budgeting. Jazz was the one who looked for practical abilities.

That left time for his mom and dad to teach him things like forging, combat training, reprogramming everyday objects into weaponry, defending his position before a board for grant money, turning everyday household liquids into knock-out gas, and how to talk his way out of traffic tickets.

Not to mention everything he learn as Phantom.

Danny knew how to verify jewels and gold due to the years spent in the ghost zone fighting off pirates and treasure hunters. Phantom's reputation made him a target for many ghosts who wanted to add his rarity to their collections.

How to command a room, then a town, and finally an army. Diplomatic missions increased in number as he began meeting with the leaders of various sectors within the Ghost Zones.

Really, Danny didn't make a whole lot of sense, if anyone bothered to ask him how he came to this set of skills. The thing was, unlike the rest of his family, Danny was far too reserved to show them off. He edged the line of shyness from a young age, which sometimes bled into reclusive tendencies.

He didn't get anxious from social interactions; he just didn't feel like seeking them out. Sam and Tucker felt a similar way, as they were always willing to talk to a stranger, but they tried to branch out of their safe little bubble to make friends rather than acquaintances. Then the summer between sophomore and junior year happened.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker left tenth grade as plain losers only to arrive in junior with a splash.

The trio noticed that people were staring at them more intensely than they had been before. That they were used to, what they weren't used to was that the stares were not mocking or dismissive.

It was odd, but it didn't click on why that was until winter break, and more specifically, Star's Holiday party.

Ever since the fourth grade, Star hosted the biggest party of their generation. Her parents owned the local fun center, which featured indoor kart racing, laser tag, arcade games, paintball, and virtual reality pods. Everyone tripped over themselves to be given an invitation as she offered a full day and night of free entertainment at the center.

It always ended with wild stories of teenage fun that Danny always wanted to see in person, rather than hearing about in the hallways the next day. Not that everyone in their grade went. The invitation list was super selective (Star's parents did lose a lot of profit for letting their daughter do that)

You either received an invitation from the party girl herself, or you were asked to be a plus one, which was just as much of an honor as it was a symbol of social status among the teenage population of Amity Park.

The trio was never invited, which is why they were already making their way to the student parking lot when Star stood in the courtyard, holding up the scarred envelopes. Inside them was the bracelet that one had to scan at the door of her center to let people in. It was how her father ensured only the agreed-upon guests stayed at that number.

In the middle of making plans for hot chocolate at Sam's favorite poetry slam cafe, Star had run at Tucker's car, practically falling over to knock on his window. Danny had never been so confused in his life as his friend rolled down his window to arch a brow at the girl.

She stuttered her way through a pathetic request for fashion advice that Tucker easily answered in two sentences. Sam snickered as Star seemed unsure what to do with Tucker's lack of interest in her or her popularity.

Ever since Tucker started focusing more on his self-confidence and joined the fashion community, he hadn't been so girl-crazy nor as desperate to get one's attention.

Just as Danny reminded Tucker that other cars were waiting for them to clear the road, Star had pushed three envelopes into the driver's hand and run off with a red face.

Tucker stared at the envelopes in his hands with a wild look that both Sam and Danny shared. They slowly kicked their brains back into gear when an angry honk from the car behind them sounded, and they ended up silently driving the cafe, still in a daze.

Jazz laughed herself silly when they rang her up to ask if she thought it was a trick (Sam was sure they were going to be Carrie-ed), a mistake (Danny insisted Star had gone to the wrong car, but due to the tinting, didn't realize until it was too late). Or a genuine invitation (Tcuker had always been the most optimistic of the three).

"Haven't you three ever wondered why Spectra used emotion-based ectoplasm for her appearance?" She giggled, "It makes people hot. And you guys literally spend all summer in the Ghost Zone during your internships, feeling human emotions while being exposed to natural ectoplasm. You three came back looking good."

That was a shock.

The summer apprenticeships had been a compromise between Sam and her parents. They were growing tired of her not growing out of her "phase" and were threatening to send her to a military camp to straighten her out.

Thankfully, Jazz had stepped in, brilliantly changing their minds into allowing the college student to match Sam up with a well-known friend as a mentor. She even threw Danny and Tucker into her "program" to further show that it was just what Sam needed to stop her from being a troubled teen.

Since only Maddie and Jack knew about Phantom, it took some effort among all of them to create fake websites and legitimate-looking summer programs before Sam, Tucker, and Danny arrived in the Ghost Zone in different vehicles to spend their summers. It helped that Ghostwriter owed them a favor, and he brought the programs to life.

Danny was learning medical practices of various species with Frostbite. Sam was with Princess Dorathea, learning how to govern and manage a large estate. Tucker had taken Wulf up on his offer to join him through the Ghost Zone's wildness, allowing Tucker to experience life off-screen and learn more about animals.

Jazz had said she placed them out of their comfort zones, but with trusted ghosts that could help them build well-rounded characters. At first, it wasn't for them, but the trio found themselves falling in love with their activities.

By the time they came back, they had many stories and exceptional skills to share with their parents. Sam's parents weren't happy she was still a goth, but they did appreciate her newfound determination to connect with them and her interest in running companies like the family business.

Tucker's parents were amazed by the muscles he gained and how he started to limit his screen time. He still loves his tech, but now he was branching out into fashion, helping out around the house, and appreciating animals and nature like never before.

Maddie and Jack watched as Danny grew more empathic while becoming more sure of what to do in stressful situations. Confidence that their son desperately needed had been gifted to him over the summer. He no longer lowered his eyes or slouched, even if his awkwardness lingered a bit.

That apparently made them hot? Yes, it did.

At Star's party, even though the three kept to themselves, laughing and hanging out as normal, people were constantly attempting to talk to them or simply flushing whenever they made eye contact. Danny, Sam, and Tucker all agreed that they no longer wanted to be popular.

They stay firmly behind unbreakable walls even as the party skyrocketed them to the same level of popularity as the A-listers (they refused to join the club). The three were more excited to return to their summer internships the following summer.

By the time graduation rolled around, Danny, Sam, and Tucker had been voted the most attractive and the most likely to succeed. They were a new type of untouchable royalty walking the halls of Casper High.

It came as no surprise that their resumes and internships got them offers from various colleges, not to mention their looks. Jazz, by that point, was still working on her degree at Gotham U, so the three chose to go there.

Danny was studying to become a doctor, Sam was in business, and Tucker chose computer sciences. They had moved into a house that Sam's parents bought for them, allowing Jazz to move out of the dorms into the spare room. Things were going great for a while, living in the big city and being adults on their own for the first time.

Then Danny applied for an internship at Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital in the administrative area- Sam convinced him it would be a good way to get a foot in the door when he applied to medical school. He needed someone to write him rec letters.- And one night, when he was working late on data entry, he happened to see Batman's maskless fall out of a portal produced by a trenchcoat man.

The trenchcoat man carried Batman to the abandoned operating room that had been left behind when they remodeled the place and converted it into offices, followed by the rest of the Bats. Their faces were covered entirely, but it did not hide their worry as they rushed to catch up with the pair.

A woman wearing scrubs pushed through the portal and the group of masked heroes, barking out orders to prepare the room.

There was a magic spell wrapped around the group that typically would have made them invisible, and erase their importance in the mind of whoever looked at them, as if they were from a forgotten dream. Still, Danny's ecto contamination made him immune to the spell, so he witnessed the whole thing.

Huh. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Neat.

Danny figured it wasn't his business and turned back to his two monitors to finish the Excel spreadsheet he was working on. He later left after saving his work, ignoring the fact that he now knew why the operating room had been left untouched, despite having all that technology on standby.

He would get home, mention it over a plate of reheated pizza, while Tucker would be working on an essay due at midnight. His best friend would shrug, claiming his own ectoplasim had made him immune to Poison Ivy's plants- they were shockingly similar to some of the plants Wulf and he encountered in the Ghost Zone- and had seen Red Robin's face after the man had been sprayed in the face and some of the powder lingered on his mask.

Apparently, Tucker's midnight essay writing had given him a familiar, dazed college look of exhaustion. Still, since he wasn't freaking out at the man eating plants, Red Robin had thought him too gone on whatever Posion Ivy how dosed the crowd of hostages with, to worry about his bare face. He had merely moved Tucker somewhere safe, stabbed him in the thigh with a needle, which had been rude according to Tucker, and run off to fight Ivy.

Red Robin was Tim Drake. Neat.

The two changed the subject to a TV show, but eventually Tucker had to focus on his essay, and they fell silent.

The following morning, Sam reported that she, too, had figured out a Gotham Hero's identity by accident. Her ectoplasim contamination had made her an attractive goth, who was approached by a blushing Damian Wayne to ask her to model her alternative style for his art club.

At the offer of a bit of pocket change, Sam had agreed to follow the art club president to a park where a group of teenagers were setting up canvases and easels. They asked her to sit on the park fountain for a few hours while they tried to capture her likeness in charcoal.

During the session, she noticed a change in Damian's movement as he grew more relaxed and his old habits began to shine through. Princess Dorathea had taught her the dangers of the court and how to notice little changes in body language that could keep her safe.

She thought it was odd that Damian moved like an assassin, reaching for a small knife in the same way he wielded his charcoal. It made sense later when she was rescued by Robin on her walk home from a would-be mugging and noticed the same little habits.

Robin was Damian Wayne. Neat.

If three of the many Bats were Waynes or connected to the famous family, it only logically makes sense that the rest were all Waynes too. Double neat.

The only one who was sincerely shocked by this reveal was Jazz, who had not even a hint of suspicion that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

"This is huge!" Jazz gasps, "Don't you guys realize how crazy this is!?"

"I mean, sure," Tucker slowly responded, sharing a confused glance with Sam and Danny. "But it's not really our business, is it? It's not like Danny is in the hero scene anymore."

"Well, yes but come on it's Batman!"

"I don't think Batman even cares about us, much less his Bruce persona. As someone from the bottom of the first class, trust me, the top of the first class doesn't even notice us taking up space. " Sam laughs, shaking her head. Danny hesitates to mention that Bruce Wayne has stopped by his office multiple times to bring coffee for all his coworkers, but figures the man must do that for all his employees.

Miles and miles away in Wayne Manor, Bruce narrows his eyes at the three screens displaying three newly graduated teens covered in paranormal residue. It's possible that they were all haunted and just didn't know it, which was a common thing, according to the Justice League Dark.

After some digging into their background, he found that companies, summer camps, and internships had all been fabricated by an incredible hacker who provided an oddly convincing cover-up for the various skills the trio possessed. Again, the Justice League Dark also stated that it was common, as that was a tactic the Otherworlders frequently used on humans to leech onto them.

Like a gas station in the middle of nowhere that was there and then it wasn't a few days later.

The three weren't experiencing any negative emotions, which meant whatever was haunting them would soon pass, and it wasn't necessary to intervene. Zatanna promised Bruce that everything was fine.

He had some doubts.

So far, the three have been doing everyday things that first-year college students typically do, and yet, Bruce's children have reported seeing the three often in their civilian lives.

Foley worked out at the same gym Dick did and was often at the ramen shop Jason just helped one of his friends open. Manson began spending time at Cass's favorite café and attended Duke's poetry nights as an observer. Fenton, the male one, was literally working a few floors below Tim.

A coincidence?

Or was it something nefarious at play?

Bruce decided to wait and see what happens.

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

[artdcnaldson]

pussydrunk 2006 art eating pussy for the first time and he can't stop moaning into your cunt and grinding against the bed. when he feels you cum on his mouth he drinks it up like he's dying of thirst and cums in his boxers.

Vintage ask that's been in my inbox since September 17th.... oops.......

but sigh.... sweet baby!Art needing to proove himself after he's lost the 2006 Junior US Open final </3 He goes back to your hotel room bc he can't stand the thought of looking at a very Smug Patrick Zweig right now, especially if somehow Tashi winds up in their hotel room, and Art has to suffer through a pathetic, soul crushing sexile.

And it's not like he's super experienced. He's fucked, but it was clumsy and rushed and awkward because he was always afraid that Patrick would ignore the sock on the door and burst in just to be a dickhead.

You're not sharing your room. You're wearing a halter top and low rise jeans and a sparkly scarf as a belt, and you smell like vanilla body spray and dove cucumber deodorant. When you kiss him, you taste like strawberries and cream, licking delicately into his mouth as you pin him beneath you on the bed.

He's never gone down on someone before, but he's watched videos. He's heard Patrick talk about it in any crude way he can. He described the smell, the taste, the way the girls' thighs would close around his ears and trap him there. He's blushing tomato red as he pulls back and looks at you. "Can I eat you out?"

He regrets it the second he asks, terrified that he'll be horrible and sloppy and awful at it, but you nod and he begins to strip you of your party clothes. He kisses the valley between your breasts, the spot below your belly button, a beauty mark near your hip.

He fits himself between your thighs, and leans forward to give a tentative lick. He sighs softly, nuzzling closer, letting his tongue explore the slick, hot flesh. You moan and he feels your thighs tense on either side of him as his tongue flicks over the bud of your clit.

You taste good. Locker room talk had convinced Art that it'd be kind of gross and dirty to eat pussy, but you were so soft and warm and wet beneath him, dripping your juices onto his eager tongue.

He knows he's hard in his jeans, and he's lucky he's on his stomach so you can't tell. He can't help but give in to the urge to rut down against the springy hotel bed, just a little... just to sooth that aching, hungry need.

Your fingers are in his hair, tangled, tugging. You moan louder, throwing your hair back. He wonders if you've ever been eaten out before. If he's doing alright. If he's better. He tries to scan his brain for anything Patrick might have said that wasn't totally disgusting, but he draws a blank. All he can focus on is the taste of you, the smell of you, the pretty sounds you're making.

It doesn't take much to get you there, which only seems to feed his ego. He's rutting against the bed like an animal in heat, moaning against your pussy, licking at you like a fucking meal. "Cumming— 'm cumming—" you gasp in a breathy tone, and he knows he's done for. He tastes your release on his tongue— the slick, heady flavor like heaven. He cums with a gasp, panting against the slick, swollen folds of your cunt as he spills his release into his boxers.

"You're really good at that," you tell him as he rolls over, the wet spot on his pants just as evident as the glistening release on his nose, mouth, and chin. He should be embarrassed, but you don't say anything, so he isn't. You don't comment about returning the favor (you think he's probably out of commission until further notice), so you ask him if he wants to just cuddle and sleep over. He can't think of anything better.

[chocochiffonnn]

➸ Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Fem! Reader

➸ Word Count: 2.2k words

➸ Synopsis: After having one too many drinks and being taken home by your nonchalant boyfriend, you realize despite his stoic, calm, personality, that you quite literally have him wrapper around your fingers.

➸ Warnings: lots of cursing, reader stutters (go away if u don't like that) mentions and usage of alcohol and cigarettes, kissing but not super intense.

●·○·●·○·●●·○·●·○·●●·○·●·○·●●·○·●·○·●

Rarely had there been a time where you drank, really.

"kjasduahdaidhaasd more alcohol!"

.... But when you did, the atrocities are at most, unimaginable.

Like right now. The crisp, appetizing air of the barbecue roamed around your nose. With a very, odd, obnoxious wiggling of your nose you giggled uncontrollably, holding your shot glass up high.

"Barbecue~ Nice! Yummy! Delicious! Whoo! Give-"

"You can stop now."

With not much of a notice, a strong grip swiftly takes away the shot glass from your fingers, the other preventing your left hand for taking any more alcohol.

It was a familiar voice.

"Oh my goodness, there you are Riki! Thank you so much for coming."

Riki?

As in, Riki?

"Guysss! Gosh, stop fooling around!" You babble in front of your friends, fanning your hands in the process. With flushed cheeks, you gave them a grin. Why did they bring your boyfriend up all of a sudden?

Your "boyfriend."

"I know Riki, MY boyfriend is attractive, and cute, and lovable and all that, but—"

"Y/N."

Damn. It really is him.

With a swift turn, the sight that confronted your blurry eyes, was none other than Nishimura Riki in the flesh. His hair is disheveled, he looked like he had just woken up from a nap, given his raspy voice and the tired look in his eyes. He wore one of the hundreds of his chrome hearts collection of black sweater pants and hoodie.

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you'd just imagined things, but he felt real. You tapped his shoulder, hard and broad. Poked his cheek, soft and cute, held his finger, long and veiny. You wiggled your nose, still smelled as amazing as ever.

But the fact that he was here was not even the problem. The fact that he possibly heard what you said is what is.

"It is real..."

"Of course I am real," Niki turns to your friends, "Thank you for taking care of her. Is it okay if I take her home now? I'll bring her home safe, don't worry."

"O-of course! We're done with eating too, just waiting for you, because, well... Y/N kind of goes uncontrollable when it comes to alcohol."

Niki, the ever so nonchalant, simply just nods his head, taking one of your arms and wrapping it around his shoulder. "Thanks for that."

Without much of a word, you left the restaurant with Nishimura Riki, the person who is, in fact, not your boyfriend, but the person who has been courting you for a little while now.

~~~~~~~

"Come hop on my back, Y/N." Niki mumbles once the both of you were outside the restaurant. Without much of a protest, you willingly jumped onto his back, reclining a bit when you felt you reeked of alcohol.

In the very back of your mind, you felt it run through a hundred million emotions at the same time. More so from the alcohol, but half from the fact that you were really here. Right here, right now, cradled in Nishimura Riki’s broad, sculpted, back.

Riki is a fellow junior in your college, pursuing a course in arts and design while you pursed tourism. The story as to how the two of you met was odd. That certain day a year back, you’d gone to one of the free smoking areas of your school to go through the last of your pack, only to find him there, cigarette in hand, as poised and sharp as ever.

Since then, he immediately was the apple of your eye. Barely did he spoke, yet his presence and aura felt intense, as if it was commanding— I’m actually right here. You tried talking to him, to which he responded in a very unwelcoming manner.

Until a certain moment in time where the universe had to pull you in together. The classic getting stuck in an elevator trope on your way to the fifth floor of your facility. Odd, right? Still, ever since, Nishimuka Riki has always just been there, perhaps not in a vocal and showy manner, but his actions proved otherwise.

That’s why you rarely showed these sides of yours to the person who is currently courting you, aiming to be in your best behaviour. Nishimura Riki, despite having bad habits such as smoking, (though, well, you couldn’t speak much you did the same) he was by all odds, the most stern guy you’ve ever countered. Stern as in, by all means, whatever shits life throwed his way, he was rarely distracted and kept his goal straight.

Meaning, you never know what he thinks most of the time.

“‘M sorry for acting like this.” You mumble beneath, refusing to lay your head on his shoulder and instead withstanding the strong effects of the alcohol making you sluggish.

Riki does not respond for a second.

“You don’t have to be, it’s fine.”

You squint your eyes, playfully whining and kicking your legs around. Riki pulls you closer to his back, “I feel like… Most of the time, you have me figured out and I don’t.”

He hums. “What do you mean?”

You poke his cheek, finally giving and resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re always so calm, composed, nonchalant even. While I always lose my shits at the smallest things. It’s like, I feel like I have to have myself together around you.”

Nishimura Riki listens.

This is what you always thought about him. Never jumping into conclusions, making assumptions of his own. He waits, patiently, before giving an opinion.

“And well… I didn’t want to show this side of you because you might think of me different.”

“Different? How?”

“That I’m someone who doesn’t have her life together, or gets so noisy and playful when drunk or, that I have the most weirdest interests and hobbies. I didn’t want you to think like that, especially since I am older than you.” You admit, craddling your head closer to his neck. He smelled good.

“… You’re a bit funny noona, you know that?” Riki says. You slap his back with a snort, “I thought we stopped we the noona thing.”

Riki laughs, twisting his head to side. It was one of his habits, whenever he says something that perhaps embarrassed, made him shy, disappointed or whatever— he clicked his head to the side.

“We did. Say, can I put you down? Are you not stumbling down anymors and saying weird stuff?”

You were immediately reminded of what happened just a few minutes back at the restaurant.

“I did NOT say weird stuff!” You counter. Riki laughs, putting you down gently and turning to face you.

The embarrassment was replaced with shock as he comes to place a hand on your warm, red cheeks. The both of you stood beneath a sparking street light in the quiet of the night.

Riki stares. Just stares at you.

“W-what are you doing…” You say, turning your head to the side. He pinches your cheeks, “Ow! Ow!”

“I’m sorry.” Riki laughs, truly not sorry. “What were you saying earlier? I’m your boyfriend?” He teases, pulling your cheeks a little tighter.

You pout, “I’m sorry… It’s just that— Ah! Nevermind.”

Riki’s ears piqued with interest. No way in hell where you going to—

“What was that?”

He inches impossibly closer to your face, distance was no longer a word. You felt his nose brush a bit against yours, he was staring so intensely at you again with that stern gaze of his. His hand looses itself from your cheeks.

Fucking hell. You felt as if you couldn’t breath.

“I said it was n-nothing…”

Riki grins, “you can tell me.”

He always had his with words, always had his ways with you.

“My friend who called you also used to have a massive crush on you, but that was before!” you raise both your hands in defense, “She respects this, and us now, and—“

Riki laughs, really laughs, reeling his head back in such a dramatic way. The shame inside your body bubbled, and you could not find the right words to even say, the right movement to even do.

Maybe Riki thought it was funny because well, by all technicality as to what relationships actually mean— you are not his boyfriend, yet. You have not answered him as to what the both of you truly are, yet your actions, time spent together, the things you did with each other— for people who do not know you well would think otherwise.

“You are so adorable.” He says, patting your head.

“Am not!”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

Without much of a word, Riki suddenly places a soft, gentle kiss on your cheek. It tenses you up, keeps you in place. It was moments like these where you feel vulnerable around Riki. Sure, you were older than him, perhaps know a little bit more than he, but his unpredictability keeps you on your toes.

It excites you, and it makes you feel childish in a way, too.

“The most adorable.”

Riki grins as he looks into your eyes. He pats your head, “let’s get you home, yeah? I have a duty as your boyfriend.”

And you smack him in the arm.

~~~~

“Thank you for taking me home, Riki.”

Your footsteps hit the ground of your apartment as you face Riki, fingers intertwined with each other. It had been around midnight, and although Riki lives just a little farther away from you, you felt appreciative of his efforts of coming all the way to pick you up.

“Don’t sweat it, I want you to get home safe.” He says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Well… I guess this is—”

“Say,” Riki coughs, turning his head to the side. “I’m a little thirsty… Is it okay if I crash and get some water?”

“Oh? Ah! Yeah sure, hold on.”

You visibly panick.

Riki wants to go into your house?

You felt yourself internally squeal. Lucky enough for you, the fact that you cleaned beforehand means you’ll be saved from the embarrassment. But another fact remains: You’ve finally reached the point where he wants to go into your house?

Without a word, you fumble with the keys as you turn to open the door and let him inside. You do not dare to look at him, only closing the door and heading towards the kitchen as he follows you.

However, before you were even able to get a step in, Riki swiftly holds your hand and embraces you. He embraces you.

“Wha-”

“Shh.” He cooes, arms wrapped around your shoulders, as his head placed itself atop your head. Hundreds of fireworks exploded in your head. You saw nothing but his black hoodie, and only felt his tight and warm embrace as well as his strong perfume which stained your nose into a coma.

God, it feels so right when you’re wrapper around his arms.

“Just tell me if you want to answer me already.” Riki mumbles, vulnerability in his voice. “You’ve been going back and forth— it’s driving me crazy, Y/N.”

“Seriously, it’s fucking driving me crazy.”

Riki spoke more so to himself, this is the first time you’d ever hear him, feel him with so much more than his stoic, and calm composed self. It was as if he is breaking in front of you right now.

“I can never go to sleep at night knowing I can’t have you in my arms, because we’re not together.”

Riki holds you impossibly closer to his body. You wrap your arms around him, listening.

“I want to say to the world you’re my girlfriend, and that I’m your boyfriend. Yeah?”

You nod.

“So just… Be honest with me and tell me if you want me.”

He pauses, “Otherwise-”

“I want you, Riki.”

You say without a doubt. Truly, you did want him. And although this may not be the best occassion to say it out loud, here you were, admitting your heartfelt feelings to the man who’s been by your side for months now.

It felt right, it felt absolutely right.

And you’d be damned if Riki hears your longingness for him once more through your mumbling drunk self.

“I guess I just don’t know how to say it, I’m sorry—”

Riki presses his lips against yours, rough, yet soft and delicate at the same time.

He kisses you deeply, and you kiss back, holding onto his hoodie for dear life. It was as if the alcohol had consumed you, yet at the same time, you felt conscious and aware that the two of you are doing this. He knows, you know, too.

The both of you know that doing this would mean you’d be answering his long awaited courtship, would mean that you’re trying a knot that signifies you both not as friends, not as anything platonic, but as partners. As soulmates.

And you kissed him like your life depended on it. Riki does the same, holding you tight as if letting go of you would mean you’d be out of his grasp.

But you won’t let go of his grasp, your legs felt too weak to do so. Your arms felt too tense to even more, and god, your lips were stuck on his.

Yet the only thing that kept you apart was the need for air, gasping as your lips fell apart from his and a string of your heavy breaths and saliva connected you both.

Riki lays his forehead into yours, holding the small of your back. You cup his cheeks,

“I want you bad too, Riki.”

The two of you smile, souls connected and intertwined.

“I guess I’m your boyfriend now, huh?”

And Riki just hoped you didn’t feel the warmth of his cheeks, or the red of his ears the whole night, or the fact that he, in fact, ever only tried to keep his composure around in hopes of impressing the wits out of you.

Ahhh... He must be really, really, down bad.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮.

   ⊹ ࣪ ˖ when an unexpected breakup leaves you without a date to your sister’s wedding, it’s perfect, confident lara raj, the goalie for your university's hockey team, who jumps in to your rescue and volunteers to keep up a charade until your family is off your back. but as your friendship deepens, the lines begin to blur between what’s real and what’s for show.

   ˎˊ˗  ❄️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: hockey player! lara raj x physical therapy major!f!reader

   ➴ genre + wc: 12k, college au, FAKE DATING!, mutual pining, extremely slow burn, friends to lovers, denial of feelings, charming hockey jock lara, super domestic and slice of life-y, reader is a chronic overthinker and people pleaser...., just more fluff idk

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: bubble gum - newjeans.

┈─★ a/n: goalie lara anyone? the hockey au expands w our favorite team mommy <33 this fic is set overlapping the events of ditto, so if you're waiting for ditto pt 2, this gives a tiny behind the scenes. i am so in love w writing the dynamics in this verse, i hope everyone enjoys! dani's upcoming fic will complete the trio and prob be the longest of the three. also should clarify: megan + ditto!y/n are freshmen; hlbwfil!y/n, lara and dani are sophomores; sophia and manon are juniors.

cw:// mentions of recreational drug use, some suggestiveness? also reader BRIEFLY dates a man...

[*set overlapping the events of ditto-- read first here if you don't want spoilers!]

a new semester, same routine. it’s your second year as the women’s hockey team’s resident physical therapist in training. kinesiology isn’t an easy major, but you love it with your whole heart, and the girls all make it worth it. 

“i’m just saying, matching tattoos would look sick,” daniela says as the golden trio approaches the physio room after their showers. 

“yeah, but not of each other’s faces,” megan grimaces. you laugh at the notion that dani would even suggest it. 

“oh my god, the world’s most beautiful girl,” lara smiles, dropping down onto the cushioned bench in front of you.

“oh my god, i must be a mirror,” you grin back. 

you won’t talk about your soft spot for the trio. you love all of the girls on the team, but there’s a special bond you built with the three musketeers. megan, the baby of the team, who opened up to you about how much she misses her mom as you walk her through some stretches for her back strain. dani, the chaotic team captain with no boundaries, who beams every time you compliment her after she makes it through her ice bath without flinching.

and lara raj. you especially won’t talk about your soft spot for lara, the confident, secure goalie who you’ve grown especially close with. 

you know lara makes it a habit to be this nice to everybody. it comes with the territory. you know lara comes from money without flaunting it, always offering to cover meals for the girls with that insanely heavy black credit card with her dad’s name on it. she��s told you a little bit about how good she’s had it, the perfect parents, a super nice older sister, solid grades and of course, a talent for making sure a puck never flies past her. 

it’s easy to love lara— perfect, confident, generous lara. 

(so maybe you let yourself love her, just a little too much, but that’s for you to keep to yourself.)

lara’s compliments can sometimes come off as a bit much, but that’s the thing you’ve realized with her. while megan is usually too nervous to choke out anything, and dani says whatever is on her mind with no filter, lara finds the perfect balance. lara is observant and attentive, and she sees people for what they care about and finds a way to make them feel seen for it. 

well, you don’t exactly prioritize being beautiful, but it’s a bonus that lara likes to call her loved ones pretty. 

“can i talk to you about something?” she asks as you put stabilizing tape on her shoulder. your supervisor is in the office coming up with treatment plans for that week for the rest of the team. 

despite daniela being the one that boasts the giant “c” on her jersey, lara is the de facto team mom. while dani is the one screaming in coach’s face about his unfair treatment of a player, lara the one constantly waving you down when someone tries to hide an injury or fake feeling better, making sure they get the attention they need instead of toughing it out. their dynamic is polar opposite, the defender and the caretaker but the two best friends complete each other. 

“what’s up?” you hum, watching as the strips of KT tape start to make a mesmerizing pattern against lara’s soft skin. 

“i’m worried about meg’s grade in our english class.” she whispers, ensuring the girl can’t hear you guys from outside the door. “dani chat gpt’s it all and gets away with it, i feel fine, but we’re struggling to help her keep up.”

“you told her not to take intro to british lit with you,” you remind her. 

“i know, but i don’t think it’ll help to rub it in right now,” she sighs. “it’s so much reading."

you feel your brow furrow as you remember your assistant coach whispering something about academic probation to your head coach once last week, when they were doing their monthly grade assessment. the season is going so well, and megan’s been absolutely killing her position as center to the point that she’s the starter, so you can imagine how bad the team would suffer if she gets temporarily barred from playing.

you see the look in her eyes. lara’s worried about what it’ll do to megan if she gets dinged for her grades and has to stop playing, even for a short amount of time.

“when yunjin got diagnosed with adhd, she was able to talk to the university resource center to ask for more time during tests,” you remember, wracking your brain for a solution. the defenseman had told you about it at the very beginning of the semester, as if it was a hack. 

“okay, period. we have a plan a,” lara beams. “you and that big brain, y/n.”

you feel your ears redden and shake your head. “what’s our plan b in case my big brain fails?”

“i will seduce her professor and change the grade myself,” she decides. you laugh but quickly feel yourself furrow as she winces at the you bend her shoulder. she tries to keep you away from changing the topic. “i’ll take one for the team. maybe that should be plan a, actually.”

“hey, no,” you press gently, concerned. she had told you the shoulder was pain free. “is your rotator cuff still bothering you?”

“it’s sore when i don’t stretch it, but that’s just me getting old,” lara waves you off. 

“what do you think i’m going to say to you next?” you ask her.

“oh my god, y/n, always so non-confrontational. like my little conscience in my ear, asking me questions until the guilt eats me alive,” lara laughs, shoving you away from her. “it’s so annoying how good at that you are, you pacifist.”

you smile and put your supplies away, but lara’s words are nothing but the truth. you’re so painfully fearful of confrontation, it’s almost a joke that the career you’ve picked is with a full contact sport. 

you open your mouth to say something, to ask further about the injury, when your phone ringing catches your attention. you feel yourself tense as you see the contact photo.

but lara, perfect, attentive lara, never misses anything with you.

“boyfriend again?”

she gives you a questioning look. she knows everything about you, including how rocky things have been with your less than attentive boyfriend lately. 

“distance isn’t easy on anyone,” you say simply, but her look says enough. she gets up and offers you a reassuring hug.

“you’re not just anyone, so don’t let him treat you like you are.” how the hell does she always manage to sound straight out of a soap opera? you nod, blinking back the rising heat in your chest at the nerves

“it’s complicated,” you remind her, but she’s already giving you that look. you hate how you guys can communicate so much with so little. 

you flag your supervisor to come check your work and step outside to take the call. you can feel lara’s eyes on you the whole time.

“hi felix…”

-

a week passes by, and so do two more phone calls that go the exact same way. all ending with a knot in your stomach at his words. you’re silently grateful that your roommate dropped out in the second week of school. a solo dorm all to yourself is a luxury you don’t take for granted when you’re so constantly fighting on the phone with someone into the late hours of the night.

“he’s mad about me not calling him when he got out of class again,” you sigh over facetime with daniela, as you flop onto your bed after a particularly boring history lecture. “i have explained so many times that i go straight from class to go work on you guys after practice.”

“go cheat on him or something,” daniela says simply. “he’s an annoying little bitch.”

“dani,” you sigh exasperatedly. you love her, but it’s easy to see why coach blames her for his going bald. she can be extremely difficult and give zero fucks about it.

you’ve always kept an extremely small circle. but lara’s in class, megan has never been in a relationship, yunjin is out with her girlfriend, and you’d rather die than talk to your sister about your boyfriend issues.

which leaves daniela, whose brash, calloused responses remind you just how perfect and emotionally in-tune with you lara is. 

however, what daniela lacks in tact she makes up for in passion and pure heart, so you can always read between the lines and see her intentions are good.

“dude, come get fucked up with me and the kappa theta girls this weekend and you will literally never want to talk to that limp dick loser again.”

okay. mostly good intentions.

you remain silent as you assess the lack of food in your minifridge. usually, the silent treatment works wonders to get dani back on track, and this time is no exception.

“well, either way, you’ve always got lara who’d drop anything to marry you in a heartbeat.”

you laugh. that’d what you needed, the thing the three musketeers are so good at– saying the stupidest things. 

“i’m ready when she is,” you tell her jokingly, tossing an old box of leftovers into the trash.

“been ready. break up with your soggy bitch and i’ll take y’all to the courthouse tomorrow.” you hear her laugh, but then you hear something like water bubbling, followed by a long exhale.

“don’t you have a press conference tomorrow?” you laugh, realizing exactly what the noise was.

“why do you think i’m getting baked out of my mind right now instead of in the morning? for a smart girl you’re kinda dumb sometimes, y/n,” she teases. 

“don’t flirt with me too loud now, my dorm’s gonna end up burnt down by one of your crazy stalkers,” you deadpan dryly, realizing you need to go get something to eat.

“when you decide you’re done with that fucking joke of a man, i know a girl who’s lined up waiting for you,” she tells you between coughs, “and unfortunately for you, it isn’t me.”

“thanking god that i’m the one girl on earth who won’t take a ride on the avanzini train,” you laugh. daniela has always been respectfully inappropriate, and she’s one of the few people you feel comfortable enough to tease. “your ride’s probably messed up anyways.”

“100% satisfaction rate, lots of insistent repeat customers actually,” she defends herself passionately. “i wouldn’t be so bold, y/n, your shit is probably whack if it’s got your man tweaking so bad.”

“and the convo ends nee-ow,” you sigh, shaking your head, but your heart feels a little less heavy after dani’s nonsense. “thanks for cheering me up, captain.”

“thanks for patching us up all the time. we love you, y/n. keep your head up.”

the line dies out, and you go to lace up your sneakers. as much as dani loves to say shit to get a rise out of people, you think back over her words. lara.

perfect, confident lara has always been honest about how much she adores you. at first, you used to think it was just her way of making you feel comfortable around all of them. the hockey team is close, freakishly close, and she was always so warm and thoughtful enough to invite you to all their outings and make you feel included. she never had to– you’re only with them through next year, and then senior year you’ll be at the university medical center working in a real physical therapy clinic for your clinical rotation. your end goal is sports medicine, and you’d love to get hired by the hockey team once you graduate, but you need to keep your options open and be prepared for anything.

plus, you and felix are supposed to look for jobs in the same city once you graduate, move in together, build a life…

that beautiful, melodic voice enters your head as you hunt down your wallet. lara loved to bat her eyes at you whenever you mentioned not knowing what comes after graduation: “aw y/n, don’t you wanna take care of me forever?”

in the early days, you used to think she and dani were the same breed of college athlete. cocky, arrogant, flirtatious. the flirting rang true for the both of them, but you started to see where lara differed. she was tender, caring, and empathetic at times you had least expected. 

the first time she ever told you she’d liked you, you thought it was another one of her mindless flirtations. you had learned to let them roll off your shoulder by that point. but even after you had laughed, she stood there, brows arched, and reiterated it. “y/n, i’m serious. i really am into you.”

you feel your spine tingle at the memory. what are you supposed to do with that? you and felix had just hit a year. a rocky, bumpy year, but you had met just after high school and you figured you owed it your best shot. lara was quickly one of your closest friends, and you had confided everything in her.

she never defined it as a crush, nor did she ever make you feel guilty for it. her transparency was equal parts confusing and refreshing. it made your friendship stronger, if anything. never crossing the line of touching too close or flirting too passionately. you two existed in a weird limbo– lara raj was somehow in love with you, openly so, and yet was so damn perfect she never made it big enough to affect your friendship.

(this is the part where you try to stop thinking about it before your head has a hard time making sense of it all… but… don’t you love her too?)

you step out of your dorm and spot an unfamiliar girl letting herself into your neighbor’s dorm. your neighbor,  baby megan skiendiel’s dorm. you feel a rise of suspicion. chronically bitchless megan, as the trio calls her? maybe you’ll give her roomie danielle a heads up?

meg’s got someone over.  she’s reaaaallly pretty

i appreciate you! ;-; best neighbour ever!

ofc <333

i think she mentioned something about a study partner?

you smile and step out of the building into the chilly night air. lara made it happen. you know megan would have been too nervous to ask for the support on her own, so it must have been with the guidance of the older girls that–

your phone buzzes. felix, again.

“i just barely got home and headed to dinner, like the second you called me,” you tell him quickly as you pick up, wanting to avoid another fight. you can feel yourself already breathless and anxious.

“why do you always talk to me like that? like i’m an idiot. i’m not an idiot, y/n. did it ever occur to you that your standards are just too unrealistic?” his voice is so cold, making your stomach turn as you keep walking towards the dining hall, trying to avoid letting your eyes water before you see someone you may know.

“i don’t think it’s that ridiculous. we’re long distance. we don’t have the easy things to fall back on,” you furrow your eyebrows, nearly disgusted. 

but then he pauses, and you can hear him suck in a breath. your stomach drops at the way his tone changes.

“maybe we should think about that. if the distance is too hard.”

“what the fuck, felix?” you try not to make it a habit to swear, but the tears are already pricking at the corners of your eyes. you want to scream but everything stays trapped in your chest.

“you gave up forever ago,” he accuses you.

“you think so?” is all you can manage to ask. it’s moments like this where you admire someone as unhinged as daniela, who you’re sure could easily give him a piece of her mind, or yunjin, who won’t stand for even a whiff of disrespect.

or lara, you think, who’d know her worth enough to just hang up and move right on along. 

you lose yourself in silence as felix unleashes a rant that feels much too pre-prepared to be brought on by simply missing his call. you feel your chest ache at the thought of everything changing for you. you don’t know how much time has passed before he realizes you haven’t said anything. you’ve always hated that about him. you’re naturally reserved, and it’s almost like he just assumes you have nothing to say.

he ends the call when he’s ready, with a “sorry it had to be like this, y/n,” and you’re too drained to fight him on it. you stop and sit on a nearby bench to wipe your face clean and send a quick rescue text to the only person you really want to talk to in that moment. 

lara’s calling you less than 30 seconds after you hit send. 

“lar, you’re in class, you didn’t have to call me,” you chastise her gently, but you know there’s no point.

“i know you said call you after class, but that’s such an sos, you never need anything so i know this has got to be the real deal,” she tells you.

“i just needed to get out of my head.”

“everything okay?” she asks tenderly. 

“um, no. not really.” you take a deep breath and look up, trying to avoid the well of tears coming back up. “i think felix and i just broke up.”

“oh, fuck that guy. never liked him. i’m coming to get you in 5.”

perfect, always-knows-what-to-say lara raj does exactly that, tracking you by your location just a few minutes later, and insists you two go out to eat and tell her everything. it stings, but lara’s presence makes everything more bearable. maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could have come out of today.

-

you wake up in your dorm and feel the dull, anxious buzz in your stomach as you remember yesterday’s call. but spending the rest of the night with one of your favorite people had made it practically melt away, and by the time she had dropped you off, felix was far out of your mind. 

you’re taking the breakup better than most would expect, but then again, you’ve also been called “the statue” by coach by how non-reactive you are. 

what’s the point in losing your cool and letting others get the best of you? sure, your sister grew up walking all over you, but most of the time, it wasn’t worth it to get into it with her. you’ve been like this since you were little– you hoard your emotions, stoic through all hardships, too afraid to let people see you struggle and think any less of you. your dad’s always been such a worry wart, your step-mom is insanely judgemental, and your sister jordan gets everything she wants, never once having understood what it’s like to feel like a burden.

your sister, who you haven’t thought of all night. why would you? this breakup is about–

oh god. your very demanding, very aggressive, very engaged-to-be-married-in-two-weeks, sister. 

your jaw nearly drops as you realize the extra layer of what your breakup means for you. your hands shake in panic.

breakfast with lara. you feel it anchor you, ever so slightly. there’s an idea that pops into your head that you barely let yourself contemplate before realizing if there’s anyone who could come to your rescue, it might be perfect, angel lara.

“you know i’d never ask anything of you, ever, right?” you start as the two of you sit down, setting your trays onto the table.

“yes, you’re too proud and too hardworking,” lara nods, grinning as you smack her shoulder. 

“okay,” you breathe nervously, “well i am extremely embarrassed to ask you this, but my psychopath of a sister is getting married in two weeks and i already told her i was in a relationship, so if i show up alone, she’s never going to let me hear the end of it, ‘cause she planned for a specific seating arrangement and—”

oh my god, you realize you’re rambling. you try to pivot to what the bigger issue is.

“damn, okay, well let me just say that my my stepmom will be weird, my dad is gonna overreact and make me come back home, i won’t get to finish my program–”

oh my god, again you gasp at yourself. this is why the hell you don’t let yourself panic. you crack.

there’s a pause as you see lara digest all of it. 

“parents love me,” lara finally grins. you let out the breath that had been stuck in your throat. you feel an immense gratitude that she isn’t pushing you to say it.

how could you possibly mutter the words out loud? will you be my fake date to this real wedding?

“i’m so sure yours did,” you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but laugh. she’s got the confidence of a child who was never told no. 

“all parents,” she pushes back, poking you in the ribs. 

“don’t get too cocky. it was between you, daniela, and meg, but meg gets nervous when someone even breathes next to her and dani is-”

“oh my god,” lara covers her mouth with her hand at the image in her head. “she’d be forcing your family members to drink shots out of her mouth and harassing the dj.”

you hold three fingers up, and fold them down as you go through the lineup of your options. “our infant daughter who can barely remember her own name, hot-headed attention whore with no boundaries, or charming and slightly overconfident sweetheart.”

“i’m going to pretend my competition wasn’t those two idiots and just tell myself i was the clear winner from the start.”

“i’ll owe you everything,” you tell her gently.

“i’m happy to do it.” she shakes her head, before a beaming grin. “you know it’s inevitable that we fall in love though, right?”

you laugh, but she reaches out to you, and your hands meet over the table. what a massive reassurance. 

“lara i can’t stress enough how thankful i am, and how anxious over all of it i am.”

“i got this,” she reassures you, confident nod. “i’ve got you.”

“thank you,” you breathe quietly once more, and you feel your heart stir. you do trust her, with your whole heart actually, to make this work.

-

you’re supposed to be sleeping in when the blare of your phone ringing shocks you awake. again, grateful to live alone. 

“ugh, jordy, it’s 6 in the damn morning,” you groan as you bring the phone to your ear. your sister has her own special ringtone, love by keyshia cole, her stupid go to karaoke song. 

“y/n,” jordan drawls, and you roll your eyes as you remember she simply does not care about inconveniencing you. “my friend wants to know if you’ll let her third wheel you at the table. i’ve never met your boyfriend so i want to know he won’t be weird with her.”

you almost don’t remember what she’s talking about, until you feel your body tense. the damn wedding looming over your head. 

the good thing about being notoriously private, you realize, is that you had kept your relationship entirely between the two of you. felix had hated how you never posted him, never let him tag you in anything, never let him meet your family or friends, simply told them “i’m seeing someone” once you had hit six months. you bite your tongue. maybe you could see why he’d be so frustrated… but you’ve always wanted to keep your business to yourself, and having someone associated to you for people to judge you off of would be entirely unfair to you. 

“girlfriend,” you correct her quietly. as soon as the word comes out, you can’t hide from it any more. you and lara are committing to the charade. 

“girlfriend?” she sounds surprised, but not annoyed. “okay, but she needs to wear my colors or i’ll kill her.”

you breathe a quiet laugh. at least jordan can always make things about herself. “i’ll make sure she knows.”

“anyways, my friend, she’s so cute, says she’s in your research methods class,” she pivots back to her initial ask. “i’ll tell her she can link up with you whenever. i’ll give her your instagram.”

before you can say anything, jordan hangs up unceremoniously. you furiously get dressed and brush your teeth, trying to rush to lara as soon as physically possible. this adds a kink to your plan. 

you make it to her dorm in a few and punch in her keycode, letting yourself into her room quietly. you poke around to see if her roommates are home and if you’ll wake her, but luckily, the only person you see in the bed is her. 

your heart thuds. perfect, sweet lara raj, slumbering like an angel, her lips parted slightly and her brows furrowed in her sleep. 

“lar,” you gently hum, approaching with caution. “lar, it’s y/n.”

you had let yourself into her dorm after her insistence before, and as she stirs awake, a smile takes to her lips. “i was hoping it’d be you when i heard the door.”

“um, so, issue.” you whisper, kneeling by her bed as you play with her hair to help her wake up. “my sister basically wants a friend of her’s to hang out with us so she’s not uncomfortable at the wedding, but i have no clue who the friend is.”

lara rubs at her eyes sleepily, reaching for her phone as she looks up at you. “which means…”

“i’m really sorry.” the weight of this isn’t lost upon you. “is there any way we can be like, pretend exclusive for the next week and a half? if this girl sees you out with someone and texts my sister then it’s all pointless.”

“oh, so like, fully off the market?” lara arches an eyebrow.

“i know it’s a huge ask.”

there’s a heavy pause, and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you alive. what an embarrassing situation to force lara into. you’d fully understand if she’d push back. 

but perfect, helpful lara raj simply grins up at you and shows you her phone, finger hovering over her dating apps folder as she deletes them one by one in front of you. 

“i’ll delete my tinder right now.” she says easily. “not about to blow your cover.”

you let out a deep breath and swarm her in a hug. “lara, you’re a godsend.”

“not my first time hearing that,” she beams back at you. 

you get a dm in that moment from a random photography instagram that had followed you later that morning. the profile picture is of a tree, giving you no hints about this girl’s identity. 

peanutbutterlover02: hey <3 jordan said i could come crash you guys! are you busy today? maybe we can do dinner together?

you breathe shakily. your first test as a fake couple.

“let’s do it,” lara says confidently, and you realize she’s reading over your shoulder.  

“if my asks ever get too weird, please, please say something.” you tell her firmly. “i don’t ever want you uncomfortable just to help me out. we can scale it back any time if the lines get blurry.”

“y/n, this is like a dream come true for me,” lara teases. “i’ll speak up if i need to, but don’t worry too much about me, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe shakily, and send a reply to this girl with a time and place. 

-

you’re getting ready for the hang out after practice when lara texts you. 

meg and dani found out we’re going to the makers market and want to come... maybe a small group will make her more comfortable?

our first exposure is a group thing?

if that’s okay?

won’t they be weird about us acting like that?

do you trust them to keep a secret?

you’re heading out the dorm but pause in your tracks. one massive factor you didn’t consider— the girl with no filter.

oh my god daniela

and that big mouth

i will beg her

no don’t do that, pretty girl. i’ll talk to her. she’ll always do it for the team.

lara always manages to find a way. you feel your chest loosen and keep walking, shooting a message to jordan’s friend before jumping back to lara. 

my hero

;) we’ll be there in like 5

you spot the girl on the bench in front of the library, exactly where you agreed to meet up. 

“hi!” she greets, pulling you in for a hug. “you’re jordy’s sister. i’m manon.”

“how do you know each other?” you ask curiously. jordan is a bitch, in every sense, and manon seems so… normal?

“jordy is my hair girl.” she smiles and taps at the intricate patterns along her scalp. “cleanest parts i have ever seen.”

“i’m y/n,” you smile, and let out a small breath before you commit fully to the act. no turning back now. “my girlfriend and her friends will be here super soon.”

as if on cue, you hear old justin bieber rnb blaring from an approaching vehicle, and recognize lara’s car right away. 

“hi ladies,” lara beams from the window as she pulls up to the curb. you see the ginger hair and blonde curls in the back.  “your uber is here.”

manon squeezes into the back, and you take the passengers seat. you suck in a breath. maybe you and lara should have practiced how to be, what to do, how to navigate this, especially in front of two of your closest friends. lara makes easy work of chatting up manon and keeping the conversation flowing until you guys get to the makers market, a bustling farmers market for art where they block off a whole street for vendors. 

you’re too busy overthinking to notice megan and daniela’s widened eyes as lara snakes an arm around your waist as you all start walking. your skin tenses at the contact. 

lara, confident, unshakable lara, does it as if you’ve been hers for years. this might not be a mission destined for failure after all. 

-

manon is extremely sweet and undeniably hilarious. the evening goes on without a hitch (maybe besides dani trying to race megan to see who can eat their korean corn dog faster causing both of them to choke) but even the small hiccups are nothing compared to how natural lara is at making this so convincing. she’s touching you at every opportunity, taking pictures of you each time you turn back to look at her, buying every thing you even look at. you know it’s all for show, but you can’t help but think of how easy she makes it seem. if felix was this competent, he’d be the one you’d want here right now, but lara does all the things you begged him to do, without having to be asked.

you guys are back on campus before 9pm, but you’re having too much fun. you spend a lot of time buried in anatomy textbooks or watching orthopedic surgeries, and tonight, you just want to enjoy it with your friends.

“we can go back to my room,” you offer to the group as you guys wander out of the parking garage. “i have a single.”

the group agrees, and the five of you make it to your dorm in just a few minutes walking. lara’s hand snakes into yours, and you feel your spine tingle.

“do you guys smoke?” manon raises her brows hopefully, holding up her bag. you guide them all up the stairs of the building and into your room, plugging in your twinkle lights.

“fuck yeah,” dani beams. 

“aren’t we getting drug tested this week?” megan asks worriedly.

“next week, kiddo,” lara rubs the top of her head playfully. “and we’ll just skip you. no pressure.”

manon takes a pre-roll out of the hand-painted altoid tin in her purse and you head over to crack the window. in just a few minutes, you’re all laughing on the floor of your room, nodding along to music playing from your speaker, passing the joint around amongst the group.

“why didn’t they give you captain?” you ask lara. “you’re such a good role model. minus the recreational drug use and flirting with everyone you know.”

“they wanted to, actually. did you know that?” megan says, a bright grin on her lips.

“you said no?” you ask in surprise. lara is staring at the ground, thumb rubbing along the bottom of your braids.

“i didn’t want it.” she shrugs calmly, taking another inhale. “i like hockey, i just like other things too. can’t make it my whole life, duh.”

“plus, she doesn’t have the same face i do for interviews,” dani butts in, flexing dramatically. “cameras love the curls + dimple combo.”

manon snorts, and you and lara exchange smiles. you won’t talk about how comfortable it feels to have lara leaning against your shoulder, playing with your hair, the proximity of her washing a wave of comfort over you.

“hey do you guys think i have negative aura just ‘cause i didn’t smoke?” megan asks, nose wrinkling as she watches you guys hand the joint amongst yourselves.

“no. you’re bitchless because you’re scared of your own shadow,” daniela quickly answers, and megan’s face drops.

“bro, i can totally pull.” 

“i see no bitches,” dani claps back. “all you do is text that tutor of yours. get her to at least show you a titty or something, come on.”

the four of you laugh in tandem as megan glares at the blonde.

“don’t talk about my tutor like that.”

“a boundary, from the baby?” lara all but cries, beaming so brightly you feel like she might fall over. “baby’s first boundary! get the camera!”

megan rolls her eyes and waves her off. you guys talk and talk into a random hour of the night, enjoying the calm of getting to know someone new and change up the routine just a bit. this yap session is a welcome change of pace, and you’ve never enjoyed yourself more than listening to dani debate with anyone who disagrees with her, watching megan push back weakly, manon simply laugh at everything, and lara reel it in when it gets too crazy while still adding fuel to the fire. you could stay like this forever, you think to yourself.

“it’s so late,” you realize as you finally look at your phone for the first time all night. “you guys can stay so you don’t have to walk back when it’s so dark.”

“i live next door,” megan tells manon, excusing herself. “this was fun.”

“we should totally do it again, thank you guys for being so fun,” manon smiles, before assessing your room. you have your bed, the extra bed, and a wide space between the two beds in the middle of the dorm. “if it’s okay to stay, i can totally sleep on the floor with no issue.”

“no way, you’re the guest,” you insist, reaching under your bed to locate your extra blankets. manon and dani start cleaning up the ash tray and trying to air out your room. 

your brain runs through the possible combinations. manon on the floor, jordan finds out and kills you. dani on the floor, she’ll complain all night. you guys could figure out sharing beds, manon and dani could—

your eyes widen, and as if she’s thinking about the exact same combination, lara’s panicked gaze meets you at the exact same time. 

“no fucking chance,” lara whispers. “the animal needs her own bed."

the only viable solution makes itself painfully clear as you shrug and whisper back to lara. “we could sleep on the floor.”

“perfect. always with the plans,” she beams back happily. lara directs the two, gesturing to the separate beds. “you’ll be here, and you’ll be here.” 

“i can’t do that to you,” manon frowns, seeing you set up the pillow and blanket on the carpeted floor.

“it’s too small for us to both fit. we’re happier like this anyways,” lara insists, and it’s enough for manon to offer a smile of gratitude. everyone gets into their assigned spots, the smell of incense and the buzz of your fan lulling you into drowsiness after lara turns off your lights.

“good night manon, thanks for hanging out with us,” you tell her, happy to have made a new friend.

“say good night to me,” daniela pouts.

“you’re the reason we can’t make normal friends,” lara snips back.

manon laughs. “i love you guys already.”

“good night,” lara whispers in your ear as she arranges herself besides you, pressing a kiss into your hair. the feeling is so foreign coming from her, and yet you feel your body seek her out as you press back into her hug. 

you close your eyes and let her pull you close. you know there’s an end in sight, but maybe you’ll let yourself pretend it could be longer.

-

the next morning, everyone disperses to their own dorms before the day starts. you make it through your classes though it’s a struggle with the lack of sleep. by the time you come out of your final class of the day, ready to head towards the ice rink to prepare for the girls’ practice, a familiar figure is standing outside your classroom, leaning against the wall. her eyes light up as she spots you.

“what are you doing?” you ask, seeing her practice bag slung over her shoulder.

“we date, so i walk you to practice,” she says simply, reaching out for you. “duh.”

you remember that her last class of the day ended over an hour ago, meaning she must have waited for you. you shake your head in surprise. “your class is closer to the stadium.”

“i’d rather walk with you,” she says back easily. perfect, charming lara raj, always ready to push back against your excuses.

“there’s no need to be that public,” you respond. ugh, why can’t you just accept the gesture. she wants to make your life so easy and yet something in you can’t accept the generosity.

“what if manon sees us and is wondering why we don’t seem loved up?” lara challenges you. “i’d hate to have her tell your sister we’re fighting.”

“more people might ask questions,” you whisper nervously.

“let them.” she smiles, forever a beacon of confidence. “not their business.”

you’re running out of reasons to push her away. “coach?”

“we can tell him it’s new. who’s he gonna tell?”

she takes your hand in hers, and you let her, wishing you had let her a long, long time ago.

-

it becomes way too easy to go through these motions with lara. when you’re alone, she’s respectful, never needing to make any advances that don’t suit the moment, allowing your friendship to still be anchored in some normalcy. the touches are intimate but never suggestive, the compliments are tender but never too intense, and she’s only ever kissed you on the head or on the hand.

but you start to struggle when you’re alone, craving her closeness but confused as to why you’d want that if it’s just the two of you. you think about the timeline of this insanely busy week. tomorrow, the pre-game party. day after, the championship game, and the day after that, you fly in the morning to make it to the wedding by the evening. your facade is coming to an end, and you know you guys should figure out what the story will be as to why you’ll inevitably “break up,” but each time you guys hang out late at night with manon, all you can focus on is immersing yourself in the experience.

you’re all laying on the floor of your dorm, smoking dani’s weed this time (megan as the exception, too nervous to risk it the week of such an important game) and chatting mindlessly. manon won’t be able to make it to tomorrow’s party, so you guys all make it a point to have another of your yap sessions in your room. 

“with the exception of the obvious happy couple,” manon starts her question, staring up at the ceiling. “have you guys ever been in love before?”

“no.” megan’s nose wrinkles. “i just barely started kissing people.”

“a few times,” lara confesses, calmly. she had mentioned a few of her relationships back when you guys were just friends, a few flings you noticed her get caught up in. you never minded, lara was never ever supposed to hold back just because she had admitted to liking you, but you couldn’t help but wonder about these girls every time you noticed her get into something new. “maybe three. i’m not in the business of denying my feelings.”

“which one was the deepest?” manon asks curiously.

lara pauses, contemplating. you don’t expect anything from her. in 48 hours, she won’t owe you anything. but yet, perfect, angelic lara, always manages to catch you off guard.

“this one,” she says, and you can’t tear your eyes away from her. her confession rattles through your chest. “it’s like a dream, but i know it’s a dream, and i’m trying to enjoy it as much as i could before i have to wake up.”

you feel your pulse in your neck. manon and megan both turn to look at you. any other time, you’d avoid the question and leave it there– sure, you had liked felix, enough to stay with him all that time, but there was never anything about him that rattled you, that unnerved you and comforted you all at once. had you ever even really liked him in the first place? had you admired, respected, felt seen by him?

(had you ever once loved him, even half as much as you love lara raj?)

you let out a shaky breath. maybe you can be brave enough to say it out loud, just this time, let yourself pretend before it’s all over.

“once,” you finally admit. lara’s eyes come to meet yours. 

“yeah?”

“perfect girl is easy to love,” you tell her simply. your chest warms and she brings her nose to rest against the tip of yours. 

“once, for me too,” dani says, staring blankly at the ceiling. the admission surprises you, and you can tell lara and megan seem just as caught off guard. daniela lets out a quiet breath. “just once.”

“what happened?” you pry gently.

daniela laughs, and it’s the first time in the two years you’ve known her that you’ve ever heard her with a hint of something more in her voice. “it fucking hurt. i didn’t ever want to go through that again.”

“should i be scared?” megan asks, brows furrowing in concern. 

“no,” daniela says quickly, waving her off. “i’m a lightning strike. being in love is so, so beautiful.”

“how do you know when it happens?” the ginger asks, voice gentle.

“you just know,” manon says simply. 

megan pauses for a beat, before letting out a quiet breath. “i want to change my answer.”

“oh?” you ask.

“tutor girl?” lara arches a brow, turning away from you to peer over at the youngest girl. 

“she’s so easy to like. she’s so, so smart, and so nice to me, even when she’s being playful, she’s doing it to make me laugh. she believes in me, through everything. every time i’m around her i just feel like i don’t have to be anyone but myself, whoever i am that day. i’ll call her when i’m on the road, and it makes me feel better.” megan doesn’t usually have this much to say about anything, and it warms you to hear her go on and on like this. she looks down at her hands, playing with her fingernails. “i invited her to the party tomorrow, and it sucks ‘cause i know i’ve got no fucking chance.”

“i think you’re really brave for letting yourself dive in. sometimes it just feels to say it out loud, even if nothing comes from it,” manon tells her, smiling in encouragement.

“i think i’m in love,” megan whispers quietly. 

gentle snores are heard from the corner. you all peek over to see dani peacefully slumbering from her spot on the floor. 

“leave her there,” lara laughs. “we’ll deal with her complaints in the morning.”

“can i stay here tonight?” megan asks, grimacing. “i can’t tell if my stomach hurts because of the party, the game, or the fact that i’m super down bad.”

“always,” you offer a nod of reassurance. 

manon and megan shuffle in to fit into the other bed, and lara joins you in yours. dani’s quiet snores are somehow extremely comforting. 

“thanks for letting me talk about it, guys,” megan thanks you quietly. manon smiles and the two turn back-to-back in the bed.

lara’s eyes are warm, still fixed on yours as you face each other in the tight squeeze into your twin bed. you close your eyes and curl up, lara resting her chin on the top of your head as she hugs you from the front. you feel your entire body melt into her.

her voice is gentle, and infinitely tender as she murmurs into your hair. 

“y/n y/ln, i’m in love with you.”

“ugh. i want that,” manon groans from the bed. 

you don’t open your eyes. lara’s voice lingers in your ears. what a beautiful song to fall asleep to. 

-

the party the next day is 10x as insane as the girls initially told you it would be. bodies everywhere, volume threatening to split your eardrums. jordan has tried to call you at least twice to make final arrangements before her wedding in two days, but each time you try to find an empty room, you’ve found either yunjin and her girlfriend making out, a random group snorting something off a table, or a screaming couple in the middle of a fight. you make your way back downstairs and decide your sister can wait.

besides, it’s one of your last times getting to play house with lara. perfect and confident lara, who lights up as soon as she spots you coming back downstairs, handing you back the drink she had so dutifully been watching over.

“watch watch watch,” lara pulls you in, motioning over to the corner. “i think the baby is trying to make a move.”

you see your favorite awkward ginger and a cute little sorority girl in the corner of the room, trying to speak over the pounding loud music. you instantly recognize the body language between the two of them.

“uh, wrong. that girl is trying to make a move, and megan is in fight or flight.” you laugh, taking a sip from your drink. “except she’s doing neither, and instead she’s freezing.”

“okay, whatever, no more national geographic. let’s go get drunk,” lara grins devilishly, snaking an arm around your waist before she pulls you over towards a circle where daniela is holding some frat boy friend of hers hostage and getting him to drive the boat as she screams in laughter. 

you’re still worried about baby megan though, until you see the familiar figure of her tutor slipping out the door, the ginger following soon after. you give them a few moments but they don’t come back in together. either megan will have a lot to share tomorrow morning, or you’ll have a lot for lara to ask about.

daniela comes around to everyone in the circle, pouring shots out into each of their mouths from the bottle of hennessy she’s got gripped. you laugh at the antics of the team captain. lara pulls you closer and you’re transfixed by the smell of her perfume, the softness of her hair on your bare shoulders as she anchors you close to her to dance.

you don’t mind getting lost in her, maybe this once. 

you’re not sure how much time has passed of you two dancing, locked in your own little world, before dani is pouring shots out again, clearly trying to get rid of whatever of the bottle is left. 

“where’s the baby?” dani asks as she gets to lara, pouring the shot and assessing the room around her. 

“i saw her going outside like a half hour ago. hasn’t come back,” you inform her.

lara swallows down the shot and makes quick work of pulling out her phone, never once letting go of your waist. “it looks like she’s walking back from campus.”

you do the math. 20 minute walk to campus, she left 30 mins ago and is already heading back to you guys. 10 minutes with tutor girl? maybe you won’t ask her about what she got up to tonight or why she was gone. you guys chat a little longer before the ginger in question pops back in through the door, making her way to you guys with a frazzled expression.

“hi puppy dog,” lara welcomes her back, teasing grin on her face. “how was it?”

megan shakes her head, clearly disoriented. “i don’t even know any more.”

“i know how to fix it,” daniela reassures her, before dragging out a table in the middle of the circle you guys are in and dragging a few randoms to surround it. she lifts up the empty hennessy bottle before placing it on its side flat on the table. she cheers, stealing a cup from the girl next to her and downing its contents in one easy go. “spin that fuckin’ bottle, baby!” 

lara laughs and holds her cup up to yours. your buzz has already set in, and you want to be coherent to get you all home that night, but one quick knock back won’t kill you. you grimace as you tap cups with her but swallow it down. daniela grins and cheers' her own cup against megan’s forehead (much to the younger girl’s displeasure) before screaming loudly about how the game is about to start. 

lara is laughing along with you at dani’s antics. “she gives the hockey players such a bad fucking rep.”

for a split second, you second guess not inviting daniela to the wedding– if all went south, dani would know exactly how to create an incredible distraction as you ran away.

but instead, you have to be brave and face it head on.

with lara, you remember, and your chest loosens at the thought. you’re grateful it gets to be with her at your side. 

“hanni pham, meet baby megs,” daniela beams, and you realize the bottle is pointing directly at your adopted ginger daughter. lara can’t stop laughing, and you get it– megan looks like she’s about to shit herself.

hanni, a cheerleader who you met in your communications class, seems to love the hollering of the circle as she struts over and plants a quick peck on the corner of megan’s mouth. dani is screaming at the top of her lungs for her to do more, but megan’s strong hands keep a polite placement on her shoulders to distance the two of them. 

“thank you, um for that, but i’m good for the night,” the ginger wrinkles her nose sheepishly. “gonna go wait in the car.”

“another boundary,” lara emphasizes, turning to you, and the both of you laugh.

“our baby girl is so, so grown up,” you fake-cry, slipping a hand into the furthest pocket of her jacket. she pulls you in closer and the two of you realize each time you say something to each other, you miss what happens in the outside world. how beautiful to get to disappear away from it all with just a look.

the group is staring expectantly at you as you realize daniela’s on the couch, the swedish exchange student from your calculus class perched comfortably on her lap, the two of them oblivious to the world through their frenzied make out. you were next in line, thus it now being your turn.

you comply nervously, terrified to get paired with some gross stranger, but lara, perfect, confident lara, off one too many shots, reaches down to stop it with her thumb, causing it to land on her. you hear some groans, but a majority of the people in the group cheer you on, chanting your name as lara turns to face you, not once letting go of her grip on you.

your throat goes dry at the look she gives you. her dark eyes twinkling, her beautiful rich skin, shining from the heat of the party and the alcohol running through both of your veins.

“come here baby,” she beckons, smiling widely at you, bringing the hand not on your waist up to your neck. your skin tingles at the contact.  “been wanting to kiss you all night, you’re so pretty.”

you have two choices: push back and make an excuse, or commit. and with all the bravery in the world, the bravery that perfect lara raj gives you, you’re able to push past the what-if’s and let yourself crash into her. 

the kiss, tasting softly of lara’s gum and the drinks you’ve shared, is electrifying. you’ve never once allowed yourself to wander that far into imagining what kissing lara would be like, and you’re almost grateful. nothing could compare to how perfect kissing perfect, incredible lara raj would be. she’s confident and assertive, letting her tongue brush against your lower lip, your mind going absolutely blank as she tightens her grip on your waist. 

“how was that?” she asks with a grin, and the rest of the world is lost to you guys once more.

“how do you think it was?” you ask back breathlessly, unable to form words beyond that.

“perfect,” she whispers, the smile she has threatening to split her mouth.

“okay,” you breathe. you can still feel the tingle of her lips on yours. 

you don’t mention it once the hour is late and megan is dragging a half-slumped daniela into the car with you guys while lara offers a ride to meg’s crush’s little roommates. you don’t say a word about it as lara drops belle and minji off, then presses a kiss to your temple when she drops you and megan off at your building, insisting she can keep daniela in her room to keep an eye on her. you fall back into your bed after a quick shower, the feeling still lingering. 

the end is near, and you know it. you decide you won’t think about it, and fall asleep.

-

you wake up to a knock on the door. you rise with a slight headache, letting out a quiet groan, before you peek out the peephole and recognize a flash of bright orange hair.

“can you help me?” megan asks fervently as you let her in. she holds up various materials: paper, pens, an envelope, and a bright red ticket. “i want to make something for someone, but i feel so fucking lost as to where to start.”

“you want to invite her to the game tonight?” you ask, connecting the dots.

“yes,” her eyes light up. “i’m giving her my spare ticket. front row, so she can see us.”

“the one you think you’re in love with?” you smile, loving the enthusiasm. 

“i think i want to say something, or at least try.” megan nods, confidently for the first time since you’ve known her, and drops her voice into a sigh.  “you don’t know how special it is to feel seen for yourself.”

“oh, i do,” you breathe, memories of the past two weeks taking over your head. you rub a reassuring circle into her back as she parks herself at your desk. you head over to the bathroom to take down your hair and start your morning routine. “say what you feel. i’ll stay with you if you’re nervous.”

“your sister’s wedding is tomorrow, right?” megan clarifies, looking up from the desk. “what happens after that? between you and lar.”

you feel a pang in your stomach. 24 hours left in your little charade, and now, you don’t know how to untangle everything you’ve intertwined with her. you feel your smile threaten to fall, but you try to put on a brave front for the concerned younger girl. “don’t worry about that. focus on you.”

“i don’t think you should end it so fast,” she responds, her eyes softening. you hate the way her puppy dog eyes pierce straight into your heart. “you guys have something really amazing there.”

“it’s not real,” you remind her.

“looks pretty real to me,” she tells you back simply, and it lingers with you. you shake it off and approach her to start braiding her hair for the game. 

-

lara has to do follow-up interviews with dani and the team following their championship win, and she promises to make it on the first flight out to your hometown. you’re kind of grateful she misses the rehearsal dinner, since manon does nothing but gush about how beautifully in love you and lara is and how she’s certain you guys will be doing this in no time. jordan, suspicious of you until manon opens her mouth, simply presses a kiss into your temple.

“happy you’re happy, sis. maybe the quiet ones do win every once in a while.”

lara stays at a hotel instead of with you and your parents in order to give you guys somewhere to drop the act. you find it increasingly difficult to remember what it used to be like before the touches, before the embraces, before falling asleep together every night. 

she looks so beautiful in her incredible dress and your dad can’t stop gushing over what a peach she is. your step-mom, who never approves of anything you do, doesn’t look completely unimpressed by the gorgeous date you’re seated with. you’ll take it as a win.

the ceremony goes off without a hitch, and you make it to the reception dinner in one piece. halfway through the night without incident is a huge win. and lara, perfect, charming lara, is making friends with every person she introduces herself to, a cheeky compliment for every aunt of yours in their sunday best or every cousin asking suspiciously if you’re actually together. she finds the perfect balance of affection, not too much to be overdoing it, but just enough to keep you feeling calmed throughout the night. 

“you play hockey with y/n?” your stepmom asks as she and your dad join you at the table with lara and manon as you all eat. you bite back a groan, considering you’ve explained a million times that you don’t play, just help treat the players.

“i play goalie, yes,” lara smiles good-naturedly.  “y/n basically is there to patch us up after every game. contact sports can take quite the toll on the body.”

“what do you want to do with hockey?” your dad asks curiously. you can see your sister and your new brother-in-law dancing like idiots behind him on the dancefloor and let out a content sigh. somehow, lara is carrying herself without a single bit of help needed, and it soothes your anxious nerves.

“reminisce about it fondly when i’m old and grey,” lara laughs. “i just finished this sophomore season, so i’ve got two more seasons playing collegiate, and that’s it for me and hockey. after i graduate, i’m going to do a fellowship with a clinic.”

“physical therapy, like y/n?” manon asks curiously.

“marriage and family therapy. i want to be a therapist. i would love to work with student athletes.”

“no way,” you breathe quietly. how has lara never mentioned this? she had started school as a business major.

“my friends have a hard time balancing school and sports and some of them are really hurting over it. i’ve always been lucky enough to have good grades.”

“nobody should ever have to pick something they love over their wellbeing,” your step-mom says to no-one in particular, and you swear there’s something like approval in her eyes.

“lara is an extremely nurturing person,” you tell your dad in particular. “i think she’ll make a huge impact in whatever she does.”

“well, miss raj, i hope y/n doesn’t hide you away from us any more. i’d love to see you around more often,” he smiles, and you two exchange a glance.

“that’s up to y/n, isn’t it?” she asks, something twinkling in her eyes.

“i’m certainly thinking about it,” you smile back. the night is won.

you come back with her to her hotel room so you can celebrate the victory in peace, without worrying about your family overhearing. 

“did i kill it, or did i destroy it?” she beams excitedly, kicking her heels off as she swipes one of the shots from the minibar in the fridge. “that went so fucking smooth.”

“you were perfect.” you could cry. perfect, angelic lara raj, making the impossible happen. a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

“i told you parents really like me,” she beams brightly, swooping you up in both arms to snake her arms around your waist and pull you in to a hug. 

“everyone really likes you,” you laugh, pushing her back, but her arms stay locked around you. you could push again, but you don’t want to.

she’s never held you like this, behind closed doors. you don’t know what possesses you to let her. memories of your kiss from spin the bottle race through your mind. you feel your mouth go dry as you realize what your body is seeking– it wants to kiss her again.

“all that matters is what you think about me,” she tells you.

you simply hum in response, feeling her hands trace lower on your hips.

“hey, y/n,” she whispers into your ear, the warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “remember how when this all started, you wanted me to tell you if things ever got too blurry?”

you nod, your words caught in your throat. you barely manage to get anything out. “it’s over now, don’t worry.”

“that’s the issue. it’s supposed to be over, but…” she trails off, her fingers tracing circles into your back. she looks away, but you feel a sudden wave of bravery take over you, and you reach around her neck to trace gentle lines into her nape. her eyes come back to you, dark and hooded.

“tell me,” you press gently, and the room feels like it might collapse in on you both.

“lines are a little blurry,” lara breathes.

“i think i’m okay with that, if you are,” you whisper back.

“you already know what i think,” lara says, almost as an accusation. but then she’s reaching for the zipper on the back of your dress, eyes flickering to you as if to ask for permission.

you push past your own thoughts and let yourself capture her lips with your own, an answer to her question. you won’t overthink it, not this time.

-

you wake to an empty bed, the smell of lara’s skin still lingering on the sheets. you inhale deeply as you try to hear for the shower in the bathroom, maybe her voice if she’s in the hallway on the phone. but as you hear nothing, you sit up, and realize lara’s belongings are all completely gone. she left without letting you know? after all that? you can’t wrap your head around a viable explanation, so you reach for your phone. among the texts from your friends and family, you see lara’s contact, a text from 30 minutes ago.

changed my flight. i added late check out so don’t worry about overstaying. we can talk when you’re back on campus. be safe.

you see the next notification.

6 missed calls. 

all from felix.

you feel your heart sink. lara has always been a light sleeper, first to rise at the slightest noise. you can only imagine what she must’ve felt seeing his contact pop up over and over, so insistently, as if he’s even entitled to your attention any more. your heart aches at the thought of lara’s confusion. 

(that’s not to even touch on your own confusion– where does all this leave the two of you?)

you call her immediately.

“lara,” you say, and it’s like a warning and a question all in one. “i haven’t talked to him since the breakup. i don’t know what he wants, and i don’t care.”

the line is silent for a moment, and you’re caught off guard. you can hear the airport PA system from behind her, but you’re more surprised at how quiet she is. lara, confident and forward, always has something thoughtful and ready to say, forever the model of composure. she finally lets something out, and you feel your heart break all over again. 

“i know you, y/n, and i wasn’t ready to hear you tell me it was over.” she confesses, and her voice sounds so, so painful over the phone. you wish you could wrap her in your arms then and there. “i got lost in it, i know i did, maybe it was selfish because you just got out of something serious, and i wanted you to myself.”

“lar, i’m sorry. what are you thinking right now?” you ask, but you quickly realize it’s the wrong question. her tone changes quickly, faster now, almost insistent.

“no, y/n, please stop. you do this thing, where you won’t give a clear answer. you’ll just ask questions and put all the options out on the table and let people draw their own conclusions.”

“here’s my clear answer,” lara continues. “you are my favorite person on this planet, and i’m so serious about that. so i want to hear it from your mouth. i want to hear what you pick, no bullshit, no yielding to let me make the final choice. with a super clear head, i want you to pick me, or not pick me, knowing all the facts and hearing me say it first. you need to have the final say in something for your life.” 

you’re in complete shock, staring into the mirror as she presses forward, her voice firm over the hum of the phone.

“i won’t hate you, if you don’t pick me,” she tells you, voice softening, always the reassuring one. “but i wanted to make sure you knew that i’d pick you if it came down to it, and i’ll be waiting patiently for you to pick me. just how i always have.”

“lar…”

“think about it,” is all she says, before the line goes dead, and you’re left alone with your thoughts. 

the airport makes you sick to your stomach and all you want to do is just talk to lara, but you know she deserves more thought than just your anxious impulse. a clear head, and no hesitation. you owe it to lara.

a day of traveling later, and you’ve dragged your bags with you to the hockey rink. megan, yunjin, and dani are all there, taking practice shots into the net even though the season won’t start up again until the fall time. 

you see lara’s gear on the bench, but she’s nowhere on the ice to be seen. you hunt a little further to see her in the very top nosebleed seats of the stadium, watching the three practice intensely. you don’t hesitate before racing up the seats, and your stomach drops as she locks eyes on you. her eyes are distant, cold even, but you can’t blame her. she deserves answers.

“i need to tell you something,” you press, sitting down in the seat next to her. 

she lets out a quiet breath and turns to face you. you reach out, holding her face in your hands, and your heart aches. she is so impossibly perfect. the truth, as much as it terrifies you, is the least she deserves.

“that night, our kiss, the past two weeks, it meant everything to me,” you admit, your voice shaky. “maybe i’m worried that i’ll lose you as a friend, if we take this leap, but we tried on these hats and it was honestly the most perfect experience ever. and you are so, so perfect, it would be impossible to not want to be with you, and i’m sorry i was such a coward about what i asked of you without acknowledging what it meant for us. it was unfair and it was confusing.”

her eyes warm, but you drop your hands. you have something more to add, the part she truly does deserve, and the part you’ve been too afraid to confront. you continue, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest.

“i need to choose myself, for just a little bit. i’m not going to ask if that’s okay, because i know you’d tell me it is even if it isn’t,” you tell her, and she laughs quietly in response. you take it as the encouragement you need to keep going. “i'm going to be alone for a little bit, i won’t go back to my ex, i won’t find someone new, i just need to be alone to figure some things out, and i’m going to tell you to go do your thing and not wait up for me. if we can be friends through it, that would be amazing, but if not, i won’t hate you either.”

you drop your head slightly to meet her gaze. she’s looking up at you with something in between heartache and pride, and you know exactly how she feels. there’s something painfully bittersweet about the moment.

“i need just a little time to learn how to be a better me, and then it’ll be my turn to come ask you to pick me,” you whisper, tracing your finger across her lips, your favorite lips, before resting your hand on her cheek once more. “and i’ll be okay if you don’t pick me, or if by then you’ve picked someone else.”

“i’m proud of you for this,” she says simply, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug. 

you feel hot tears pricking at your eyes, but you manage to smile at her anyways. the end of one chapter, the start of another, you can only hope.

-

your dad has asked about lara every single time you call for the past few months, and you simply navigate around the question with expert precision. you can’t tell him everything, but you can tell him parts of the truth.

we get to see each other every day. we’re still the team moms. daniela still conspires to make us get married. we’re going to see each other over the summer once the semester ends.

you won’t tell him about how your sleepovers have stopped, and you guys haven’t been alone together in a room since the day after the wedding. she’s still so, so nice to you, but there’s a boundary now.

it’s not awkward, as much as you know things could have ended in disaster. perfect, generous lara raj, who’s always put your friendship ahead of whatever feelings have come up for her, doesn’t flirt with you any more, but still makes an effort to make you feel seen. 

manon, who you got so close to that she moved in as your dorm roommate, is shockingly understanding as you come clean and tell her everything. nobody makes the dissolution of your fake relationship weird, and your family is none the wiser. you come out relatively unscathed from the whole thing, the only casualty being you and lara. your friendship is different, you guys aren’t as close, but that’s okay, because she’s still in your life, and that in itself is more than enough. 

except for tonight, two weeks before finals, where you decide it’s the night to put into practice all the growing you’ve done to stop being so scared of the what-if’s. it’s your turn to be confident and brave, and let the potential win outweigh the risks.

you feel your stomach lurch as you call her, the starting part of your plan. you guys don’t do this any more, the late night phone calls, so you’re half expecting to have to pivot to a plan b, but she answers by the second ring.

“y/n,” she says simply, and you feel your stomach flip at how genuinely excited she sounds. what an angel.

“hi,” you breathe. “um, just curious about your plans tonight.”

“what’s up?” she asks, half-curious, half-suspicious in her tone.

“are you free?” you ask again.

“for you?” she asks, and you half-expect her to turn you down then and there. but she doesn’t and her soft tone makes your heart thud. “always.”

“no, don’t start,” you wrinkle your nose. “i’m supposed to be the one trying to charm you.”

“charm me? why?” she asks, and you can practically hear the smirk on her lips. ugh, it was almost easier when you guys were back to being just friends. you wouldn’t get this flustered this easily.

“i want to see you when i say it.” you shake your head, feeling the familiar flush that lara leaves you with. “damn, you’re throwing me off. ugh, lara, okay just, come to your car.”

“my car?”

“i have your keys, before you freak out. dani helped me. so just come to the car and be patient.”

you hang up, and you wait eagerly. grand gestures aren’t your thing, but they’re lara’s, so you figure she deserves something that reflects how well you know her.

she arrives, and you can’t suppress your smile as she takes it all in. her car, filled to the brim with pink balloons, three different bouquets of flowers in the passenger’s seat. you’ve decorated it with pictures of the two of you from your years of friendship, including countless of candids taken by the girls of the two of you together. on the dashboard, you have a giant, handwritten sign with pictures of lara’s face, and in big bold letters: #17, GO OUT WITH ME?

her eyes are wide, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gone too far with everything. in the months since the wedding, you guys have stayed friends, sure, but maybe you misread her? maybe this wasn’t the grand gesture you thought it would be?

“y/n…” lara starts, before offering you an apologetic furrow of her brows. “i have a girlfriend.”

you feel your stomach sink. you’ve deleted your instagram since all this happened, and you and lara don’t talk about those kinds of things any more, plus megan was so heartbroken about you guys not ending up together, it’s super possible she didn’t want to mention the new relationship to you. plus plus, daniela’s terrible with secrets, so why would she help you with this whole thing in the first place,  but she can absolutely show up when she needs to– damn. your shot disappears in front of your very eyes.

“oh my god, lar, i’m so sorry. i um–” you stammer.

she’s staring at you with those dark eyes, before a stupid grin takes over her stern features. “hah! see, told you you should have jumped on me sooner.”

you feel your eyes nearly bug out of your head. oh my god. 

“what do you think i’m going to say to you right now?” you nearly growl, your heart still pounding at the near miss.

lara screams laughing, nearly doubling over as she pokes a finger into your cheek. your skin jumps at the contact. “hopefully you’ll say, kiss me and be mine, no more waiting.”

you sigh and take her face in both hands, emboldened by your new outlook on life. no more being afraid.

“lara raj, i’m sorry for making you wait. thank you for being so, so perfect, and letting me be ready for you. i’d like to love you for a really long time, if that’s–” you pause, realizing you were about to ask for her permission.

you clear your throat and look her directly in the eyes. “you better let me love you until the earth blows up.”

“i like that so much better than what i thought you’d up with,” she beams brightly, opening the door to he car and sitting in the drivers seat, motioning for you to come towards her.

“i bet you do,” you laugh, letting her pull you into her lap.

“told you we’d fall in love eventually,” she grins cheekily.

you sigh and press a fingertip against her nose. “actually, i was in love with you way before all this. just needed to figure some things out.”

for the first time since you’ve known her, lara raj is speechless. 

“got your fine ass,” you grin, before you lean in. “now that you’ve shut up, i’m going to kiss you.”

“you were so, so worth the wait,” she whispers, and you let yourself believe her. the girl of your dreams, perfect and confident lara raj, and she’s finally yours.

[bucketbueckers]

to make up for my very angsty first impression, i have a fluffy azzi x reader request !! so its highkey based off of “in a good way” by faye webster and basically azzi and reader have been dating since high school and it’s super cute and cliché in a way like reader was cheer captainn and azzi was (and still is) a star basketball playerr and one night while folding doing laundry and ranting or something equally domestic azzi just takes a moment to appreciate reader and all she’s been through with her and starts tearing up and stuff. take all the time you need and want with this because ik ur gonna eat anyways😉😉

-⬇️ anon

IN A GOOD WAY

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: pure fluff, slight injury mention (it's Not!!! angsty)

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: Azzi Fudd loves every part of you – the bright and bubbly cheer captain who cheers the loudest for her at games, the halfway put-together, organized mess when you’re a few hours into studying, the soft, relaxed, domestic girlfriend when it’s just the two of you in her dorm. Sometimes, she just can’t believe how lucky she is.

notes: ⬇️ anon is my goat pls put some respect on her name!! i loved this prompt as soon as it hit my inbox and i was so excited to write it although i had to calm down and finish my other projects 😭 hopefully i do this justice for you ⬇️ and as always i hope y'all enjoy 🫶

Azzi Fudd loves every part of you.

The old and the new, the complicated and the simple, the good and the bad. Azzi loves the fact that you can’t fall asleep without reading before bed. Azzi loves the way you make everyone feel included. Azzi loves that you’re unapologetically real, always prepared to be honest, yet kind.

She first fell for the bright, bubbly cheer captain who smiled at her from the sidelines in high school (the first game she noticed you, she shot for a dominant 9-10 from three) but she fell even harder for the girl outside of the uniform, who had unparalleled basketball knowledge. The two of you liked the same players and rooted for the same teams.

And, sure – you were cliche. You were the cheer captain, the first freshman in your high school history to do so since you’d impressed your coaches while on junior varsity in middle school. You were Azzi’s biggest fan on the court. It came with the job title but you’re sure you would cheer for her any day, any time, any where. She was kind, incredibly passionate, and the best shooter you’ve seen in a long time. Azzi was a basketball star, known for a precision and athleticism not mastered by many girls her age. Somewhere in between the squeak of sneakers and the sizzle of pom poms, you’d fallen for each other – hard, and honestly? Neither of you ever looked back.

You followed her to UConn. You put in applications to every college she was considering committing to (although she was obviously going to be a Husky), not really wanting to do it unless it was with her.

And, well, some things never change. You’re still the cheer captain, although getting the position was a lot harder than it was in high school. Azzi is still that star basketball player, whose three-point shot is deadlier than it was when she was fifteen. She’s been through a lot – injuries, surgeries, and countless hours of rehab, but you were the unwavering constant. You were there with ice packs, compression sleeves, and uplifting words when she was down on faith. Together, the two of you have been through a lot, and no matter what, you wouldn’t change anything about your story.

You love every part of Azzi Fudd.

The scars, the smiles. The trials, the tribulations. The highs, the lows, the in-betweens where you reminded her that she was resilient. Unbreakable. And now, a champion. You love the fact that she’s a menace in disguise, hiding mischief behind a soft-spoken voice. You love that she pushes you just as much as you push her. You love that despite you wearing the skirt and waving the pom poms, she’s your biggest fan.

It’s not hard to forget her first surgery. It was in 2019 – she’d torn her ACL and MCL during Team USA nationals. You were right there with Katie and Tim, a spark of unwavering optimism and determination in spite of the injury that would shape her career. There wasn’t any time or any room to be afraid, but part of you knew. You knew this wouldn’t be the end of Azzi’s basketball career, that she would come back from this injury because she belongs on the court.

On nights when recovery was harder than most, you were there. Any and everything she needed, you had the remedy. Heartfelt confessions, distractions, anything to remind her that she wasn’t fragile. You couldn’t sleep without a book before bed, so you’d read her your favorite parts.

From Charlotte’s Web, you read, “‘Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’” You’d paused only to brush your fingers across the callouses in her hand, feeling her stiffen, alarmed by the similarity of the words. “‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.’” And, although you were only reading, you’d squeezed her hand to let her know that you meant every word.

She asked you to read Little Women. In it, Alcott wrote, “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” Azzi liked that line the most – so you reminded her of it every night.

You knew that Azzi would come back from injury because she belonged on the court. You believed in that as much as you believed in the two of you. Unwavering. Without question. And when you watch her finally cut down that net, trying not to cry into your pom poms, she smiles at you in a way that feels like, I couldn’t have done this without you and you smiled back in a way that said, You won’t ever have to.

That’s just the belief your relationship is founded off of – never having to do it alone. She shows up for you all the time. Research presentations when you need a loving face in the crowd. Study help when everything feels a little overwhelming. When you’re sick and she tucks your blanket in under your chin, makes sure your soup is hot, and she doesn’t leave until you’re healthy and you have to repeat the process all over again because she’s caught your cold and she just grins at you through a coughing fit like it’s all worth it (because it is). 

Sometimes, Azzi can’t believe how lucky she is to have you. How lucky she is to have gotten it right on the first try. She tells you all the time but you’re so annoyingly humble about it that she just shows you instead. Flowers, reminders throughout the day to hydrate and eat something more than the granola bar she always packs in your bag because you have such a hectic schedule and forget to make time to eat, intentional date nights so you don’t lose track of each other when life gets busy.

She’s going to marry you one day. That much she’s sure of.

“And so I’m telling KK, no, you can’t hide your water balloons in our dorm,” you’re saying one night, folding laundry. Your voice is enough to snap Azzi back into the present, where she blinks once at you, having zoned out. You hold a shirt in the air, studying it with a confused look on your face, before turning to Azzi. “Babe, whose shirt is this?”

Azzi takes one look at it before clearing her throat. “It’s Jana’s. KK hit her with a water balloon the other night, remember? We washed it for her because their washer is old and decrepit.”

You nod, humming as you remember, and without a second thought, you fold it up and set it in a separate pile for Jana, who has affectionately wormed her way into yours and Azzi’s life under the guise of being your child. Really, it was most of the underclassmen – KK, Ice, Morgan, Allie. Sarah claimed to want no part in it but Azzi could tell she silently enjoyed you fretting over her. It warms Azzi’s heart – how willing you are to accept her teammates, her friends, her family into your life like they’re your family, too.

“Where was I?” you ask, reaching for a pair of Azzi’s compression shorts to fold.

“KK. Water balloon,” she responds, taking a seat on the couch, folding one of your shirts, and grinning when she realizes it’s an old one of hers.

“Yes, thank you!” You hardly look up from the laundry in front of you as you ramble. Azzi takes the moment to truly breathe you in – the oversized shirt you’re wearing, old, worn, and reading St. John’s College High School Girl’s Basketball, a pair of her Nike boxers sticking out below the hem. Your hair is barely up, loose and messy and still slightly damp from your shower. You’re the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. The sound of your voice reminds her that she’s supposed to listen.

“So I’m like, girl. Girl boo. Kamorea Arnold, my first born son. You are not hiding your water balloons in Azzi’s dorm,” you rant, still folding clothes. “First of all, we want no part in this prank war between you and Ice. We’re your parents. We’re not picking sides. And, like, hypothetically, if we were, we’d be on Sarah’s side.”

“Right,” Azzi agrees, shirt forgotten in her hand as she stares at you, a stupid little smile on her face.

“Second of all, she would not be cleaning that mess up,” you continue. “She’s never used a mop a day in her life. We’ve spoiled her, baby. Our son doesn’t know how to clean.”

“Uh huh,” she hums.

“And then KK pouts at me, Azzi,” you bemoan. “She pouts at me! And, you know, I try really hard to be the nice guy. She’s our friend and I guess Ice technically started it when she ate KK’s last bag of Tru Fru, but that’s not the point, right? We can’t let her keep the water balloons here ‘cause you know as soon as Ice walks in, boom. Water everywhere. Balloon pieces stuck in furniture. And oh, wouldn’t you believe it, here’s a scrap of balloon I found sucked into the fan of the Playstation. I mean, that hasn’t happened yet, but you can see the vision, right? It’s literally a nightmare waiting to happen.”

“A nightmare,” Azzi repeats, but she’s hardly thinking about what mess KK has gotten herself into this time. She’s just watching you, the love of her life, the mother to her teammates, do something as simple and as domestic as fold clothes, and all she can truly think of is how devastatingly in love with you she is. All she can think about are the years leading up to this moment – the first time she asked you out (it was after a game and you somehow made sweat look radiant), the first time she kissed you (she hadn’t even meant for it to happen, you were just laughing at something she said and she just had to feel your lips on hers), the first time you told her that you loved her (her brain stopped functioning for a solid five minutes and all she could do was smile at you).

It’s hard to fathom just how much the two of you have been through together. It would be enough for any other person to run away, to call it quits, but there’s something about you that embraces the challenge, that welcomes it in because you couldn’t imagine living if you couldn’t love Azzi Fudd. There’s something about the both of you that will just be hopelessly stuck within each other’s orbits until the end – something about the fact that neither of you mind it all too much. You like being each other’s person.

Azzi’s eyes are wet. She doesn’t even realize until your voice cuts in through her thoughts again. “Then I’m saying to Ice – Az, are you listening?”

She glances back up at you, her expression softening at the concerned look on your face. Your features turn a little tender, too, worry pulling your brows into a terse line. “Az, you’re crying,” you say, already moving to cup her cheeks, your thumbs brushing away the tears. “Are you okay? Is it your knee?”

And Azzi can’t help the laugh that spills unbidden from her lips, the smile that stretches the corners of her mouth, the soft intensity with which she holds you as her hands find your thighs. You’ve stepped into the space created by her legs, leaning into her, and she thinks that she’d like to keep you here forever. Your hands are warm on her cheeks, on her heart, on every inch of her life that you’ve ever touched. 

“I love you so much,” Azzi whispers, catching you by surprise. You relax when you realize it’s not an emergency, pressing your lips to her forehead and exhaling with relief. She wraps her arms fully around your thighs, pulling you in closer until her head presses against your stomach. “I didn’t know I could be capable of being this happy,” she confesses. “That I could love someone as much as I love you. I’m so thankful you’re here with me right now.”

You brush your hand through her loose curls, searching for the right thing to say, but Azzi’s content to just sit here – intertwined, soaking in the kind of comfort that is only attained when two people know each other well enough that they don’t need words. Still, you murmur, “I love you, too. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

You love every part of Azzi Fudd. She loves every part of you. Sometimes, you can’t believe how lucky the both of you are.

[growingwithem]

Shindong being the cutest 🥺🫶

[twistedpink]

Could i req childhood friend ace who slowly goes through many stages of im just feeling this way because theyre my super good friend and then realizing that thats not very platonic of him to think about them as hes laying in bed in the middle of the night wondering what its like to kiss them (can be spicy if youd like since adolencence and hormones 🤭) the slow realization after his denial of oh shit thats not the kid next door whom im besties and play with everyday but an actual grown up person that id like to pursue a relationship with

Cuttteeeee!!!!

Bestfriend!Ace’s known you since your teeny tiny days. Taking baths together, building mud pies and whatnot- Your parents thought you were adorable, and did everything from threatening teachers to boycotting clubs just to keep you in the same activities,, At least until it got weird. Sharing a bed for sleepovers is fine until someone has to wash their hands at midnight in the family bathroom :/

Bestfriend!Ace that’s the worst, but you can’t help loving him.. All your new friends in junior high insisted that he was a bad influence, going out of their way to avoid him in the halls, but what they don’t know is that you’re just as bad!! When all your spelltimes end and your homework’s done, Ace is the one knocking at your window for an icecream run, and he wouldn’t have it any other way <3

Bestfriend!Ace doesn’t understand why you’re getting so much attention! Guys in your class just come up to him, asking for advice on how to get it. He doesn’t even register what there is to get until the summer before he goes to college- He realizes you’ve changed. Muscle in places that weren’t there before, soft skin where tweenage acne used to thrive. He realizes you’re hot, like, REALLY hot! And he has no clue what to do with that information, because all he remembers you as is a play date,, (God, what’s he supposed to tell his mom??)

Bestfriend!Ace that watches trash tv and house sits for you just to be in your presence,,, For his pride you’re required to ignore your shirts and deodorants going missing, it’s not his fault you’re so scatterbrained! When you catch him sleeping in your bed after a busy week, it’s impossible to kick him out. Just look at that face!!

Bestfriend!Ace texts you constantly during the school year, and there’s still so much to fill you in on! Why not make up the lost time with a couple sleepovers? His dexterous hands steal away your blankets in the night “accidentally” until your only option is to cuddle up,, You hardly notice the sniffles against your neck and the rosey tint of his cheeks in the darkness. He just missed you so much- Even he, a world renowned mage of the modern age, can’t help but get a little sappy,, Won’t you help a buddy out? He forgot how cold your room is :)

Bestfriend!Ace loves you, but won’t admit it for a lonnnnggggggg time. How’s it any of your business, anyways? Have you always been this nosey? For now, he’s content with your movies and songs, but it’s never too late to “practice” kissing with a friend! He can’t help but stare when you’ve started looking so good while he’s away- Keep sending him those selfies and he’ll start getting homesick,, So long as you don’t make it weird, he’d like to have a nice, relaxing bath with his best friend when he’s back. Just like old times! <3

[iovestuck]

POCKY GAME ☆ 양정원

staring. uni students yang jungwon & female!oc

wc. 2.0k | genre. fluff, soft, cute, collage au, etc. | warnings. kissing, slightly suggestive, a bunch of fluff, drinking games, legally drinking age, crushes, etc.

iovestuck's notes. It has been a while since I wrote anything fanfic-related. So it felt nice to write fanfic again. I made it special just for you! I hope you all love it! The kissing scene arent super descriptive just slightly. Thank you for reading my fanfics!

masterlist

In the room filled with the smell of alcohol, in the middle of the room was a medium-sized group of university students, and people who had a job or family had already created a circle. Some were slightly drunk, some weren't. In the middle lay an empty soju bottle.

“Let's spin the bottle, but with a twist. It's true or dare, but if you don't want to answer the truth or do the dare. You must play the pocky game with the person on the right. Then we will measure the pocky that is broken. The shorter one is the winner, and the winners will get a prize. The losers will drink two shots of alcohol,” the host of the party suggested. Everyone in the circle nodded in agreement with no hesitation, except a few with hesitation.

“Alrighty, I will go first.” The female leaned forward and spun the bottle. It pointed towards a male. “Truth or dare?” The male, with no hesitation, answered, “Dare.” It took a while to go around the circle. Some answered or did their truth or dare. Some did the pocket challenge. The host took notes of the measurements.

After five rounds of the game, it was now a female once again. Everyone looked at her. “Ahjin, truth or dare?” Asked the person who spun the bottle. Ahjin took a deep breath, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap before looking at the person. “Truth.” She has been telling the truth since the first round and answered them with a hint of hesitation.

Those questions weren't as bad, so she thought this one won't be as bad. But it was with a different person. A stranger who doesn't know her boundaries. She looked at her friend who was sitting in front of her. Her friend gently smiled with a small nod.

“Is your crush in this room?” The person asked with no hesitation. Ahjin gulped as she looked at the person. She was silent. She didn't want to answer the question. “You have five seconds to answer,” the host announced. Glancing at her friend, who gave her a nod.

“Five.”

Ahjin felt her heart pounding against her chest. She opened her mouth slightly, but no words came out. “Four.” Her friend noticed she was almost going to have a panic attack. So her friend went to the host who was sitting close by and whispered something in their ear. The host looked at her before nodding towards her friend. “Ahjin, do you want to play the pocky game? If not, then I will let you drink four shots of regular soju instead.”

The female took a deep breath before answering. “I would do the pocky game since it's fair to do so.” The host nodded, “Alright, here you go.” She passed Ahjin a pocky stick covered with chocolate on one side. “Remember the rules.” She nodded before turning to her right.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw her crush was sitting to her right. His name was Jungwon. He has been her crush since her second year of junior high. He was the first person besides her friend to talk to her and sat next to her when she was alone. Why didn't she realize it? Maybe because she was focused on the game. Jungwon smiled towards her. “Do you want to do it or should I?”

“I…I can.” Her voice shook a bit.

“Feel free to break the stick whenever you want,” he said. Ahjin nodded as she took a deep breath and put the bread's side end between her teeth. She closed her mouth and lips. She felt Jungwon move closer to her and did the same thing as her. “Start.”

Jungwon moved closer by inches as she did the same. Her heart was pounding against her chest. Her hands were shaking from the nervousness, and her breath was taken away bit by bit. Ahjin's mind was blank like a black canvas. She didn't want to end this, but at the same time, she did.

She knows he will take her first kiss, even if it will be for a second or more. Ahjin leaned a bit closer, bit by bit,, while breaking the stick as she moved. She stopped after moving two inches as she felt a bit dizzy.

“May I?” He whispered with the stick in his mouth. She slowly nodded. Within five seconds and hesitation, she felt something soft against his lips. Her eyes widened, but she didn't dare to open them when she realized what just happened. Her breath was taken away completely. Her mind felt more dizzy than before, and her hands were shaking more than before.

She opened her eyes once she felt nothing on her lips. She was a bit sad that it lasted for four seconds, but it felt like forever. She blinked twice before turning back in front of her. Jungwon stood up to give the host the small piece of the stick.

She shook her head. “It's okay,” she answered. She felt her hands were still shaking. “May I use the bathroom? I held it in too long.” She lied. The host looked up at her. “Oh yes, you can use my bedroom since it's cleaner than the one in the hallway.” Ahjin nodded before getting up. She felt her legs wobbly and almost gave up, but she used the rest of her strength to walk to the host's bedroom.

Jungwon watched her as she walked into the hallway. “Jungwon? Jungwon?” He quickly turned around, facing the host. “Since Ahjin needed to use the bathroom, could you spin the bottle for her?” He nodded with some hesitation.

Once Ahjin entered the bathroom, she leaned against the locked door and slid down onto the floor. Her body and breath were shaking. Taking deep breaths. She closed her eyes, letting the shaking stop slowly on its own.

Touching her lips that were touched by her crush's lips. A smile appeared across her face when suddenly she heard a knock on the door. “Are you okay?” She heard a familiar voice ask on the other side. “Ah, yes, j…just give me a minute.” She quickly got up from the floor when she got the strength to do so and flushed the toilet. Before walking to the sink and washing her hands. She looked at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair before walking out.

“You have been in there for a while. The game has ended now,” he told her, looking at her with concern in his eyes. “Oh, sorry, I had to use the toilet so badly,” she lied. He nodded. “Do you want to go out in the backyard with me?”

Ahjin nodded in reply, “Sure.” They walked together to the backyard away from the party. They walked side by side, almost touching each other's hands. She noticed her friend in the kitchen with a cup in her hands. Her friend looked at her and winked as she walked away. She felt her cheeks getting hot. Taking a deep breath as they walked.

Once they had made it to the backyard, Jungwon walked to the grass area, sort of far away from the house. He sat down, and Ahjin followed. They sat pretty close to each other; their skin was slightly touching with each other.

“Sorry for kissing you,” he said, breaking the silence between them. She looked at the stars. “It's okay…I didn't mind.” Jungwon hummed in response as he looked at her. Her eyes shine brightly as she looks at the night sky. The wind blew, making her hair a bit over the place. “Ah, the wind,” she groaned as she tried to fix her hair.

“Do you need any help?” He asked.

“Sure,” she answered. Closing her eyes as he leaned a bit closer to fix her hair. His hand brushed gently over her head as he fixed her messy hair. “And done.”

“Thank you,” she smiled before turning away. She turned back to the sky. “Anything, Ahjin?” he replied. Once again, the silence settled in between them as they looked at the stars.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?”

“Yes, it is….wait, could you repeat that?” She quickly turned towards Jungwon, who was staring at her. He smiled at her. “Back in our first year of junior high. I noticed you were sitting alone during break and lunchtime. I noticed you were struggling when nobody was. I noticed every single moment you had, but kept quiet because I was stupid back then. Until the second year.”

Ahjin felt her mouth dry. She opened her mouth, but didn't say a word. “I took the chance that day to talk to you. Not because I pity you or anything. It's because I want to be your friend or be closer. Two years later, I developed a crush on you, Ahjin.”

She gulped and blinked. Jungwon gently took her hand. “It has been many years since then, and I don't regret knowing you or anything like that. Not even the kiss. I felt quite nervous when we played the Pocky game too. This is probably not an ideal place, but Ahjin, would you want to be my girlfriend?”

Ahjin's eyes widened before quickly nodding, “Yes! Yes! I want to be your girlfriend!” She quickly hugged him. Jungwon felt relieved and hugged her back. She quickly broke the hug, looking him in the eyes. “I also had and still have a crush on you. But you were popular back then, so I didn't feel like I was worthy to be your girlfriend.” He gently grabbed both of her shoulders. “You are worthy. I don't care if I was popular or something back then.”

They stared at each other in the eyes for a minute, but it felt like forever. “May I?” She nodded without breaking eye contact. Jungwon leaned forward and gently kissed her lips again. Ahjin leaned forward, kissing him back. The kiss was softer, lighter, and a bit passionate. Longer than the first kiss that they shared.

Jungwon felt her lips were softer, perfect, and warm like a feather. He didn't notice it before. She was like a fragile feather, but more than just that. He opened his eyes a bit, noticing that Ahjin's eyes were still shut. She was more relaxed than before. He closed his eyes again and leaned more forward, capturing her entire lips as he took her hands into his own.

They didn't want to break the kiss, but both of them were losing their breath. Jungwon broke the kiss but kept holding her hands. He didn't move away; instead, he gently pressed his forehead against hers. They both catch their breaths.

“We are a couple now?” She asked. Her eyes were still closed. He opened his eyes and smiled, “That shouldn't be a question. We are girlfriend and boyfriend now.” She felt relieved and so happy. “This felt like a dream. So surreal.”

“Well, this isn't a dream, Ahjin. This is more than just a silly dream.” He lightly kissed her lips as their foreheads were still connected together. “Yeah…also you took my first kiss.” She remembered all of a sudden. “Really?” She hummed.

“Well, I hope it's nice.”

“It's more than nice.”

“That's good.”

“Also, you are my first boyfriend.”

She opened her eyes, looking at their hands. He moved slightly away from her forehead. She was a bit sad that he did so. Jungwon tilted her chin, making her look at him. “You are so perfect, do you know that?” She shook her head.

“Well, you are the perfect person ever, and I am so honored to be your first boyfriend.”

“Really?”

Jungwon nodded without any hesitation. “Yes, and I am going to show you for now, starting right now.” He leaned forward towards her, capturing her lips for the third time. Gently, softly, and more passionately. Moving more closer to her, taking away most, but all of her breath, like there is no tomorrow in the beautiful night sky of a full moon, shining brightly above them.

TAGLIST. @senascoooop ,

© 2024-2025 — all rights reserved to user iovestuck, please do not steal, plagiarise, or translate any of my works without prior permission from me !

[maybankswhore]

Maybe jj and and high school sweetheart wife

jj would definitely be the kind’ve guy that settles down early on in life & would not gaf.

you and jj would meet in your sophmore year of high school.

at first jj was a total player. he was known as the guy who got around , & only called the ‘bad boy’ because he just didn’t care about rules and smoked weed.

charming as always , though , when you and him are partnered for a random first week of school project — he’s immediately obsessed with you.

he thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and he has to have you.

you make him work for it , though.

and he loves that you do.

when he finally gets to call you his girlfriend — he flips the script.

everyone’s shocked at how easy he settled down for you.

they’re even more shocked when the two of you are still together by graduation.

you guys became the most adored couple at kildare.

after high school things get a little difficult because you two are going into adulthood and try figuring things out.

you break up a couple times but it only last about a week before jj is back at your apartment apologizing even if it isn’t his fault because he knows you’re it for him.

a couple years after high school ends and you’re both entering your mid-twenties , he proposes.

it’s a super simple , romantic wedding with your closest friends and jj literally can’t stop crying.

his vows? like poetry.

he’s been working on those since junior year of highschool because he knew he’d end up marrying you.

jj would be so soft with you.

he brags to everyone he meets that two of you are high school sweethearts.

“yeah— me and my wife met back in high school and have been together ever since. crazy , right? isn’t that amazing? she’s amazing.”

“i got so lucky to have the most beautiful girl in the world.”

he thinks it’s so special the two of you grew from teenagers together to adults.

“i know her way back when she had braces and colored her hair when she cried. watched her go from my girl , to my woman. my wife.”

cries when he listens to “margaret” by lana del rey for the first time because it makes him think of you.

“that song is so fucking sick for making me feel this right now on a tuesday.”

jj makes sure to be the best partner and wants to have the family he didn’t get when he was younger.

[tomasweetheart]

TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader

sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?

warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty

notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so

"I'm not wearin' 'em."

"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"

Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.

It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.

Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:

"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."

You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.

After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"

Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.

"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."

And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.

"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."

Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.

"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"

"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."

Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.

"What was that?" you ask.

"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."

"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"

"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."

You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."

Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.

It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...

You.

The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.

You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"

"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."

[solixiaa]

Take My Hand and Drive ⊹ ࣪ ˖

 pairing : bucky barnes x reader ( modern au )

summary : You’re running away from everything, and he’s the last person you expected to want to come with you. But when the night turns soft, and the gas station lights flicker, you realize maybe leaving isn’t the end—it’s a new beginning.

word count : 2.2k

 warnings : enemies to lovers, slight angst, language, smoking/drug usage, mentions of depression/emotional burnout, running away, family / dad issues

authors note : this is probably super shitty !! This is my first finished one-shot and I write for fun + to cope so i apologize for the cringe / bad writing

recommended listening : Playground love - Air, Gordon tracks

❝I'm a highschool lover, and you're my favorite flavor❞ ♡

“Well you can go fuck yourself then.”

You slam the door behind you with a hiss, almost certain the thing was going to fly off of its worn down hinges. Storming out of your house after another argument with your dad regarding your future. About how you're supposed to stay in this sorry excuse for a town, live the way he wants, and follow the path he's set.

Ultimatums are thrown at you constantly. Either stay and live his way, or leave and never even think about coming back.

You're old enough to walk away, but not old enough to make him understand.

It’s currently 2 in the morning. A loose faded graphic tee-shirt of one of your favorite bands, Nirvana, does little to shield you from the frigid nighttime air. The heel bite on your pajama pants only worsens as they drag against the pavement, getting wetter with every step from the puddles lining the cracked sidewalk.

Somewhere behind you, a dog barks. Somewhere ahead, a street lamp buzzes loud and lazy. Blinking in and out like it can’t be bothered to stay alive. A little too similar to you. The air smells like old fryer grease from the McDonald's 2 blocks down.

Despite the chaos in your head, your feet know exactly where to go. Every alley, every shortcut, every spot you used to sneak off to. That familiarity burns. That’s what pisses you off the most—that you know this town so well it’s sewn into your bones.

You walk past the old corner store that was your friend group's designated hangout spot. The ice cream parlor that smelt like pure freezer burn. And of course, your elementary school. The lights are still on like it’s waiting for someone to come back.

It all taunts you. Like the place itself is watching you. Like it wants you to stay stuck. And you don’t know how much more you can handle.

The neon light radiating from the gas station sign above pulls you out of your spiraling. The light makes a high-pitched buzzing noise. It has for the past 6 years. It’s oddly comforting.

That’s when you spot him. Leaned against the wall on the side of the station, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Stands of his brunette hair messily falling in front of his eyes, jaw sharp under the pale glow of the moonlight.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky.

Of fucking course he’s here. Now. When you’re barely holding it together. You tell yourself you’re just going to walk past him. But it’s a bit hard to just ignore his presence when the air itself begins to feel as if its tightening around you.

The two of you haven’t exchanged anything—not even insults—since junior year. It was never serious, but they always found a way to stick.

Maybe it started with the teasing. At first, it truly was playful—quick jabs in the hallway, side comments in class, stupid nicknames.

And maybe—maybe—you had a little thing for him back then. Although, it wasn’t that little. It wasn’t just his stupid smirk or the way he carried himself like he didn’t care if anyone liked him. It was the way he actually listened when you spoke. The way he’d look at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

How he'd remember the small things about you. What book you were reading. Your favorite songs.

And how even when exchanging insults, it still felt like he was seeing you. Not the emotionally guarded sarcastic version of you that you gave everyone else, but the part of you that was slowly unraveling for him.

You hate to admit it now, but he really was your best friend.

But then something shifted.

The comments got a little more pointed. A little too specific. Like he knew exactly where to aim. But so did you. Although neither of you would flinch, you both always walked away feeling a little more hollow than you’d like to admit.

Somewhere along the way, it stopped being a joke. And neither of you had the guts to ask why.

That was years ago now—what feels like a lifetimes ago, if you’re being honest. You’re both nineteen, maybe twenty. Old enough to know better. Old enough to let shit go. But somehow, he’s still there. Still in the back of your head. Still showing up in your worst dreams and best daydreams.

You don’t know why the memory of him never faded like everything else from that time. Maybe it’s because nothing ever really ended. You just… stopped talking. Like someone pulled the plug mid-conversation.

So now, you’re dealing with the consequences of stupid teenage you. Having to awkwardly walk past the boy you had a bit of a rivalry with.

You consider turning around. Going back home, even running across the street. But there’s not much around the gas station. And you’re not about to let him have yet another thing to tease you for.

Your steps are slower as you approach him. You planned on going inside the store, grabbing a coke, a couple bags of candy, anything but have a conversation with him.

Bucky pretends he doesn’t notice you. Not turning his head, but just glaring at you from the side, cigarette between his fingers.

“Are you cosplaying Dracula or what?” He tilts his head towards you, blue eyes staring deep into yours—eyes that still have black mascara streaked down from the hours you spent crying.

His voice was calm. Bored, even. But it held something else buried under it.

Maybe even concern.

You stop walking, and turn to face him. Arms still folded tightly across your chest like it was a warning to him. You bite your bottom lip and shake your head. Not because it’s funny—because you don’t have the energy to do this. Not tonight.

Because as much as you want to be able to shove it all down and throw something clever back like you'd always do, there’s that sting behind your eyes again.

Tears are already threatening to spill.

An insult sits at the tip of your tongue—sharp and ready.

Just as you part your lips, maybe to say something mean, maybe to cry—you aren’t sure anymore—he lazily waves his hand towards you, palm up.

A cigarette.

No words. No partionizing smirk. Just a cigarette in his right palm, and a lighter flickering in the other, casting soft gold light over the lines of his face.

You blink, letting out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding. Taking it without saying anything, fingers brushing against his. You hate how warm his hand is. You hate how calm he is while your world is falling apart. God, you hate him.

He pushes himself off of his leaning position on the wall with a quiet exhale, and for a brief moment you think he might walk away. It shouldn’t matter. And it’s infuriating that just the thought of him leaving makes a lump form in your throat.

Instead, he drops and takes a seat on the curb. And without looking at you, he pats the spot next to him.

You sit, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him, but far enough to pretend you don't want more. He brings the lighter to the tip of your cigarette, lighting it. The gravel of the curb underneath thighs makes you shift uncomfortably as you take another slow drag, hoping it’ll ease your nerves.

The silence stretches for a moment. Both of you too scared to break it. Then you realize, what more is there for you to lose at this stage in your life anyways? You aren’t planning on staying at this gas station, or in this town for that matter.

“Why’re you being nice to me?” You murmur, eyes on the glowing tip of the cigarette. “Thought you hated me.”

He takes a slow drag, exhaling like it hurts him.

"I never hated you.” He says, voice quiet. “I was just young….and stupid.”

You let out a soft breath that almost sounds like a laugh while looking down at the pavement. “Yeah. We were both assholes, hm.” you hum, watching the neon gas sign flicker out one letter at a time.

He almost smiles. His expression softens under the faint golden glow of the lamppost. Although the air is cold and smells of cigarette smoke and cherry slushies, you feel warmer. Almost at ease, even.

He rubs the bud of the cigarette on the concrete and smushes it with his shoe, letting out a deep sigh before turning to you. “I am sorry though,” He shakes his head and looks away. His jaw ticks, and brows furrow. “Like I said. I was young. Stupid. And thought being mean would make my little crush on you go away.” His soft blue eyes look into yours with sincerity.

Your heart skips a beat. Bucky had a crush on you? You blink, turning away for a moment to hide the warmth creeping up to your cheeks. Thankfully, the cold weather plays for a perfect disguise.

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, contemplating your next question. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Did it work?” You manage to muster, voice coming out like a whisper carried by the wind.

He shakes his head without hesitation. “Not at all.”

You breathe out a small, almost bitter laugh. “Me neither.”

Neither of you speaks for a moment. You sit there, shoulder to shoulder, the silence stretching wide and thin but not uncomfortable. Both of you taking in the weight of the indirect confession. Because all this time it was never hate. It was confusion. It was love, in its own weird way.

You barely register the dogs barking in the back, their sharp yips lost in the quiet rhythm of the night. Or the way the air is tinged with salt and dampness, a reminder of how close the ocean is– even if you can't see it.

Then, you break the short comfortable silence. “I was gonna leave tonight.” You say matter-of-factly.

He turns his head slowly to you, a bit confused. “Leave?”

You nod. “Just wanted to go on one last walk. Already have my stuff packed at home.” You sigh, “Didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t think it’d matter.”

You expect judgement, a stare like you’re stupid, questions, shock. Something. But all he does is nod once. His jaw tense.

“You still going?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause. Then almost cautiously, “Let me come with you.”

You blink, and turn your head. You think the smoke and lack of sleep may be getting to the both of you. Maybe you’re imagining it. He’s joking. Or bluffing. But when you look at him, he’s not smiling. He’s not laughing. His eyes are steady and he’s the calmest he’s been the entire night.

You shake your head slowly, disbelief bleeding into your voice “You don’t even know where i’m going.”

“I don’t care,” He replies like it’s the easiest decision he’s ever made, “I don’t want you going alone.”

He pauses. Then softer, almost like he’s admitting it to himself more than you. “And I don’t want to stay here without you.”

You don't think.

You just lean in.

He’s still halfway caught in his own words when your lips brush his, and you feel him freeze—not pulling away, just startled, like he hadn’t let himself imagine this part. But then, just as you start to pull back, his hand comes up to your jaw, tentative and warm, holding you there.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, and the kiss deepens. Not rushed. Not messy. Just tired and aching and quiet. Like something that’s been waiting a long time to be said.

When you pull away, your foreheads stay close. Eyes closed. Breathing each other and the moment in. There’s no need to say anything. No need to explain or apologize or ask what this means. You both already know.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Come on,” he says gently. “My cars parked across the street.”

You nod, and you both stand slowly. Like the weight of the night, the words, the confession has settled into your bones. He reaches for your hand, fingers brushing yours. You let him take it.

The walk to his car is quiet. Not uncomfortable, just quiet. Taking in the essence of the town one last time. Streetlamps buzzing overhead and your shoes scuff against the pavement as you move side by side.

His car sits crooked under the neon lights, paint dulled and tires dusty like it was waiting for this exact moment just as long as the two of you have. He unlocks the door, and opens it for you.

“You sure?” He asks, one last time.

You nod once. “Yeah. Never been more sure.”

You both climb in, and the engine turns on with a low groan. Headlights slicing through the dark as the car rolls. Past the empty sidewalks, past the corners, the pieces of your old lives still clinging to the town behind you.

You let out a sigh, holding his hand, watching the buildings begin to blur as the car speeds up.

Not because you’re tired.

But because for the first time in years, you feel at home. 

꒰ ©solixiaa ꒱