#when things go away it means they can come back

[missdynamighttt]

watching porn with bf! katsuki bakugo will somehow turn into a bet to see who will give in first.

when you ask him if you could watch porn together, how could he say no to you, his girl? more so when you basically riled him up to convince him.

"bub, can we watch porn together?" you look at him, your legs resting in his lap as the both of you lounged on the couch.

katsuki's eyes widen at your directness, his jaw slightly dropping at your question. he scoffs out of disbelief, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"you're real damn blunt, pervert," he grins at your pout, stroking your thighs with firm, gentle squeezes.

"i'm not doing it for weird reasons! just.." you shrugged. "curious to see what happens, i guess? i dunno how to explain.."

he sighs, shaking his head. his hand reaches out to ruffle your hair with a grin. "you're lucky you're adorable. fuck it, why not?"

you grin, leaning closer to him, giving his cheek a kiss. "knew you'd come around. come to think of it, i bet you will jerk off to it first."

his eyes narrow at you and he scoffs. "that confident, huh?"

"with how hot you think i am and all? totally."

"like you don't think i'm hot too. wanna bet, sweets?"

"definitely. ground rules: don't touch yourself. and no touching each other. and i mean holding hands, hugs, and kisses. not just feeling each other up."

"tch, fine," katsuki scoffs. "no looking away to calm down. only when we talk. winner gets braggin' rights and loser lives with the eternal knowledge that the winner is better."

"fine," you scoff back. "you're gonna give in first, 'nyway. since you can’t go a single morning without pulling me into bed again."

katsuki's eyes narrow at you again, this time pouting at you with his cheeks flushed. "says the brat clingier than a damn koala after sex."

"oh, you're so on."

but little did you know, this would be harder than you thought.

you've set up your laptop on the coffee table across the couch, scrolling through the mediocre home page porn in incognito as you sit next to your boyfriend.

you were almost reluctant to continue but knowing him, he would definitely egg you on about being a coward. because one thing about your boyfriend, katsuki, was that he really wanted to win at everything.

"wanna watch?" you look at katsuki with a grin, the video on display captioned: "I hope the NEIGHBOURS were pleased with WHAT THEY SAW!", the preview of the video showing a couple standing by the window, fucking. it wasn't really your thing but you wanted to see how he'd react.

katsuki glances at the laptop before giving you a skeptical look, his tone firm. "fuck no."

"why not? whats wrong with it?"

"just.. no," he shakes his head, a sly grin slowly creeping onto his face as he looks at you. "one second. technically haven't started yet, yeah?"

he leans in, his lips meeting your cheek in a soft, quick kiss before pulling back. his fingers linger, stroking your cheek in a gentle, affectionate gesture. "just pick somethin' else, sweets."

you roll your eyes while wearing a fond grin. you're almost tempted to call him out on how affectionate he was but you didn't want him to stop. you couldn't help but find it endearing and cute.

but after awhile, you and katsuki realize pornhub's terrible acting and weird angles wasn't really working.

"no, too weird. it looks awkward. and fake."

"no, the guy is givin' me the ick. looks homeless."

"no, it looks.. painful. why is it so stretched?"

"no. wait, you're into that? i'm not opposed to it, i just think it looks weird when they do it. just sayin', if you wanna try it.."

so, you go on twitter, looking for porn accounts and already finding better alternatives.

finally, your eyes settle on a compilation of video captioned: "breeding selection 🖤" , the previews of the videos showing various faceless girls getting fucked sloppily and creampied by their partner.

this was it. it wasn't exactly your best plan but you were depedent on him getting turned on by the video and your mere presence to win the bet. and if anything turned him on, it would be the thought of breeding his pretty little girlfriend.

you glance at him from the side, taking in his relaxed demeanor as he leans back with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the laptop as if there wasn't porn on the screen.

"this good with you, boyfie?"

he looks at you and fuck, you can practically feel the heat radiating from his gaze. his eyes rake over you, taking in every curve and contour of your body with a hungry look, like he's undressing you with his eyes, imagining what he'd do to you.

"mhm, 'ts fine."

you nod, going back to the laptop to play the video, stupidly thinking: there was no way he'd be able to play dirty, especially when he can't touch you. but no.

the video plays, only a few seconds showing the girl's rear. the guy squeezes her ass, the cum dripping out of her pussy and in between her swollen folds, down to her thighs as he plays with her ass.

and you know what katsuki does? this man talks you through it, saying the most filthy, lewd shit with a cheeky grin. this man plays dirty by talking dirty.

"goddamn. see the cum, just drippin' out of her? bet you want me fill you up real bad now, don't you? wanna recreate that with me, sweets?"

your thighs clench involuntarily, your body betraying your inner desire. you stare back at him with a glare, feeling a familiar ache settle between your legs. "we do that on a daily basis, katsuki."

"'m just sayin'," katsuki grins, thinking: perfect. you're getting horny. "the idea of pumpin' you full, watchin' my cum drip out of you.."

he was just so desperate to see you rub your clit silly so that he can do it too without admitting defeat. his dick was huge but his pride could compete.

you clear your throat, glaring at his cheeky grin before quickly playing the next video. it's longer, around 8 minutes. it has a better angle, showing the guy's dick disappearing in and out of the girl's pussy, her doughy ass hitting his abdomen. he slams into her as she moans softly around his cock, sticky from their shared slick.

you feel hot and tight in your own skin, your throat going dry. you felt your sore nipples harden as you painfully clench down on nothing, tempted to just subtly grind against the couch for a second. fuck. it hasn't even been 5 minutes yet you were so, so wet.

your boyfriend noticed. and he certainly wasn't of any help.

"shit," katsuki leans down close enough to whisper in your ear, his breath hitting your skin, but far away enough so that he wasn't touching you. "you wet already, sweets?"

"i'm not. shut up and watch the damn porn."

"aww, don't be like that. look at my pants, baby, c'mon."

you bite your bottom lip before your eyes reluctantly dart down to his pants. fuck. his boner was so fucking obvious, it didn't help that he was wearing grey sweats. you were already picturing him naked, imagining how your cunny would look like taking in his dick.

"see? i'm so fuckin' hard for you, baby, it hurts," he sighs, looking at the tent in his pants before whispering in your ear. "don't you wanna take care of me, hm?"

a small sigh escapes your lips as you try to steady your breathing, your eyes darting everywhere but at katsuki. your thoughts consumed by the sight of him, despite your attempts to remain composed.

"you're mean," you huff.

"baby, c'mon. i'll take real good care of you, i promise," he grins at you. "just gotta touch me, yeah?"

you pout again before your eyes return to the screen, thinking your only solution was to ignore him.

although, it wasn't any help as you watched the cum drip out of the girl's pussy before he fucks it back into her, when you wanted nothing more than for him to do the same to you.

he put some distance, and you thought: okay. some time to calm yourself down. but just when you thought katsuki couldn't outdo himself, you hear the ruffling of pants, looking down to see him stripping himself of his clothes.

you look up at him as you feel your face get hot from embarrassment. "hey, what are yo-"

"hm?" he looks back at you, blinking innocently. he throws his clothes unceremoniously somewhere, leaving him in only his boxers as he holds his hands up in surrender. "what? it's hot, sweets. this doesn't count 'nyway, right? besides, 'm not touchin' anythin'."

you huff, pouting at him with a glare, trying not to admire his muscles. that's the game he wanted to play? you glanced down again, a clear fucking mistake. you almost felt drool down your chin as you admired his body, tempted to take his boxers off and just go wild—

you swallowed, looking back up at him. you get an idea. if you can't beat them, then... "you wanna play that game? fine."

you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head, revealing your bare skin to his eyes. tossing the shirt aside, you slowly tug down on your shorts, sliding them down your legs until you're left standing in just your bra and panties.

katsuki's jaw tightens and his muscles tense the moment you started undressing. he clenched his fists, the effort it takes him not to pounce on you was almost physically painful. he takes in the sight of your nearly naked body, his mouth going dry at the sight of you in your bra and panties.

the porn playing on the laptop is long forgotten as he stares at you. because fuck porn when he has such a gorgeous girl right in front of him. his girl.

"the hell are you doin'?" his voice is strained, getting the courage to look away with flushed cheeks. his eyes dart back to the screen, focusing with his arms crossed.

"hm?" you look up at him, blinking innocently like he did. you put your clothes away somewhere and held your hands up in surrender, like he did. "relax. its hot for me too. besides, doesn't count, right?"

"damn it. doesn't count but it's damn well torture."

"what's stopping you from fuckin' me, hm?"

"you know damn well whats stoppin' me. quit testing me or i swear to god, i'm gonna fuck you so hard after this."

you laugh, trying to ignore the ache in between your legs as a cheeky smile plays on your lips. "'m just saying. i bet it'd feel really good, y'know. having you inside of me..."

his teeth clench at your words, his hands clenching into fists to keep himself in check. "goddamn it. baby, you're killin' me here."

"bub... all you gotta do is touch me and i can make the pain go away."

"sweets... why are you torturing me?" he groans, his hands clenching onto the couch as he glares at you.

"i want you. fuck, i need you. damn it, you've seen how fuckin' hard i am. so why are you makin' me wait, hm?" his voice is low, almost whining about how much he craves you. how needy he is to be inside you.

"i wanna win too," you bite your bottom lip, almost tempted to fold.

"fuck," he grits out, his eyes closing briefly as he runs his hand through his hair. he looks at you again, his gaze filled with frustration and need. "sweetheart.. you're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

a sly smile spreads across your lips as you lean in closer to him, just close enough that your breath tickles his skin, but not touching him. you were getting there. on top of him not making eye contact, you could've sworn his boner twitched.

"i know. but... please take care of me, katsuki," you whispered, hearing his breath hitch as yours fans across his skin. "i know you wanna."

his eyes darken as he looks down at you, his resolve almost wavering. "oh, i do. i really do, sweets."

that's the last thing you hear before katsuki is finally on you, his movements quick and urgent as he slams his lips onto yours. he kisses you like he's starving, his lips hot and angry against yours, desperate to have his fill of you but take out his frustration on you too.

katsuki pulls away, glaring at you before helping you out of your soaked panties as you help him out of his boxers, his hard cock springing out and stood at his abdomen.

"wanna take care of me that badly, huh?" you grin, reaching for his cock, stroking it up as you thumb his throbbing tip leaking with pre.

his breath hitches, hissing before he reaches down your folds and rubs your swollen clit, your soft moans echoing in his ears. "shut the fuck up. you won't even be able to think, after i'm done with you."

katsuki grunts, aligning himself inside of you, gasping at the softness of your wet, velvet walls. and as he thrusts his cock into your dumb little cunny, he recreates exactly what happened in those videos.

"whats the matter?" he taunts in your ear as he folds your legs near your shoulders, fucking you into mating press. his body covers yours completely, you can feel his weight pressing down on you. "you fuckin' wanted this, right?"

"a-ah, i do..." you gasped, sore nipples feeling the skin of his pecs. "you're just.. mad i won.."

"hah? you callin' me a sore loser?"

"if— oh... if the condom... fits."

suddenly, you squealed from the sudden thrust, whimpering as he slams his cock deeper inside of you, almost kissing your cervix as you feel his balls slapping against your folds.

"won't fuckin' fit 'nyway cause i'm fuckin' you raw— shit," he gasps, desperately rutting himself into you, chasing your release and his. "feels so fuckin' tight, sweets, holy shit..."

"katsukiii," you moaned his name, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he fucks you dumb. "i-i can't, anymore, please—"

"shhh, you can take it," he huffs before leaning down to give you an affectionate, reassuring kiss. his lips soft and gentle against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

he draws back from the kiss, his lips leaving yours with a soft, wet pop. "you can take it, can't you, baby?"

you whine and squirm against him, a desperate, needy sound leaving your lips. you nod, the words failing you in that moment, silently begging him to keep going, to give you more of the pleasure that you need. he smiles at you, leaning down quickly to give your cheek a kiss.

"atta girl," he murmured with pride, kissing down your jawline. his mouth is hot against your skin as he peppers your collar bones and chest with open-mouthed kisses. "that's my girl."

"k-katsuki," you pant, your hips rolling against his as your body begs for the sweet, sweet release that only he can give you. "m-m' gonna.. c-cum.."

"yeah? you gonna cum for me?" he groaned. he wants to see you lose yourself in pleasure. he craves to be the one to bring you to your high. "you wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"

"please," you whimper, your voice shaky and needy as your eyes meet his pleadingly. "please, yeah, m' gonna cum for you, please just—"

your words cut off as you let out a soft cry, your head tilting back further into the couch as your body trembles with the need to let go, to give in to the pleasure that's threatening to overwhelm you.

"cum for me, sweets," he grunts, his hips rocking against yours. "show me how much you like it when i fuck you like this, c'mon."

and that's all it takes— clenching down on him and burying himself inside of you—and you're both gone.

your body tenses, a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips as you feel him cum inside of you, bodies shaking with the force of your release and his. your hips press against his as he relaxes into you, your nails digging onto his (glorious) back.

katsuki pants, taking a moment to admire you. the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, teetering on the edge from your high as you cling to him. like a koala.

"you did so good, sweets," katsuki murmured. he steadies himself beneath you and pulls his cock out, pressing the tip against your folds, waiting for the moment of his dreams. he almost has hearts in his eyes when he watches the cum drip out of you, going down his tip as he pushes it inside you again. "so damn good."

"i asked if you wanted to recreate those videos," he grins when he hears you gasp, feeling the tip of his cock rub your folds, squirming against him as you bit your lip. "i'll make sure i get all the details right by breeding the shit out of you."

and as the night wares on, you both collapse onto the couch, panting and exhausted, a tangle of limbs wrapped around each other, cuddled up close after having the most mind-numbing sex.

"so.." you look up at him with a lazy smile, laying your head on his chest. "loser lives with the eternal knowledge the winner is better, huh?"

he groaned, closing his eyes for a minute before staring at you as he runs his fingers through your hair. "sweets... you're real fuckin' lucky i love you. otherwise, i really would've went above and beyond and made sure i knocked you up."

"i wouldn't be opposed to that."

katsuki narrows his eyes at you, his fingers flicking your forehead. "don't tempt me, brat."

you rub your forehead with a pout, sticking your tongue out at him. "so mean."

he scoffs, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, gently but firmly pulling your hand away, hovering his lips to where he flicked earlier to give your forehead a soft kiss. "get some sleep, sweetheart."

"fine. i love you too, bub. goodnight."

"tch. love you more, dummy."

and honestly? katsuki doesn't need porn to get his dick hard. not when he has you. his personal porn star, his gorgeous girlfriend, and of course— his favorite person.

inspired by my ex 🧍🏻‍♀️ hope this was to your liking and i hope you enjoyed, i apologize if it seems too.. lewd? nyways, i'll start working on these requests and the older brother's best friend/ best friend's older brother trope with katsuki (i cannot choose), comment if you wanna be tagged 💜💜

[nighttimealone]

Cw: nsfw, afab!reader is referred to as ‘Mrs. Riley’

Simon enjoys eating you out from behind, his knees on the tiles, hands on your hips as you lean on the railing of your balcony, ass sticking out for him to feast on.

Your back of your nightgown hiked up to your waist, secured by his hands rest themselves on your hips.

He loves to see your pussy lips peak out between your ass cheeks, already dripping with sweet nectar, a string of those juices hanging in the air before he licks it away.

“Morning, princess.” you know Simon’s not talking to you now, as he murmurs with a chuckle against your puffy lips, watching them flutter when his hot breath fanning on them.

“Simon, quick…” if you wiggle your hips, urging him to finally get his lips on your pussy, soothing the burning ache of arousal, the only answers will be a smack delivered right onto your ass cheek, the slap loud and clear in the early morning, and his chastisement mumbled against your mounds.

“It’s rude to not greet her properly, love, can’t even wait for a few minutes?” he’s so mean, with the fake nonchalance in his tone, with his calloused thumbs spreading your petals to expose the sensitive pearl of your clit, twitching at the cool air and excitement.

“She’s just begging me to give her what she deserves, isn’t she?”

The ask lingers in the air, but Simon’s not going to wait for your answer, the throbbing need coming his cock making him finally seal his lips around your clit, giving it a hard suck, coaxing your juices out of your tight entrance, before soothing it with gentle laps of his skillful tongue.

Your one hand holding your mug, putting on the facade of enjoying a cuppa for the passersby down there on the street, another hand clenching on the edge of the railing as his lips works its magic, pressing a morning kiss on each spots of your slick folds before wandering back to kiss the cute nub now peaking out of petals.

“Almost there, please, Simon..I need, I need—“ wanton moans escaping your lips, unable to swallow back when you’re teetering on the edge, just a little push…until you gasp out imperceptibly at an energetic greeting cut through your hazy mind.

“Morning, Mrs. Riley!” the familiar voice of Mrs.Smith, your neighbor, snaps you out of the immense pleasure, dragging you back to the reality—that you’re getting eaten out on the balcony of your house, even though only your upper body is perch on the railing, and others can’t see the lewd activity and your man, who’s burying his face between your thighs and makes your head spins with the impending release.

“Simon, stop, stop…!” your eyes nearly roll back when he does the exact opposite thing—the flat of his tongue doubling its effort on your soaked pussy, delving the tip into your cunny just to tease you.

“Answer her.” his orders rumbling into your mound.

“Morning…Mrs. Smith…oh god…!” you bite back a moan as you reply Mrs. Smith, not like you have other options. “Hope you had a nice sleep last night!”

You can hear Simon huffs out a laugh at your poor and plain response to Mrs. Smith, before diving back to resume his most important morning task, and your cheeks burn from embarrassment, how could he expect you to think of a better line when he’s the one causing you the predicament? You look back down to shoot him a glare, but quickly turn back to Mrs. Smith when Simon lifts his head to press a kiss on your plump cheeks as a halfhearted apology.

the rest of the chatters with Mrs. Smith are forgotten as soon as Mrs. Smith left to go on her day, not when you’re grinding your ass back on his mouth, wobbly hand reach up to muffle your scream of pleasure, along with those sweet whines of his name.

and when you come on his lips, thighs trembling and knees buckled, struggling to hold your body up as juices gush out and drench his chin, that’s when Simon stands up, his arms now around your waist to support your orgasm-wearied body, the bulbous head of his cock nudging against your still sensitive entrance as he pushes the tip inside just a bit, savoring how your walls massaging it eagerly with a prolonged, hoarse groan.

“Round two, you can take it, yeah?”

Sure you will be spending another half an hour on this balcony, moaning as Simon fucks the sleepiness out of you.

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend III

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Teen!Reader

Summary: You make a game

When Lucy cracks open your door, you're as you always are.

You're hunched over your computer, clicking around some game level aimlessly with your tongue sticking out in concentration.

Your mice, like they always are when you're in the room, are running riot in their pen.

Outside of their cage and on the floor, you've set up a little pen for them to roam around and play in.

Lara and Zelda are wrestling like always as Clementine tries to work through the enrichment puzzle full of food. Ezio is asleep, flopped over on your shoulder as you study whatever new game you've found.

"You ready for dinner?"

Now that it's gotten colder, you've managed to get even moodier than before and even more of a shut in.

"One sec," You say. You click around the game level a bit more before pulling up a separate tab to type a long string of something Lucy can't even hope to understand. "Alright, I'm done. What's up?"

Lucy rolls her eyes fondly. "Dinner. Now. Ona cooked."

You push your chair out from your desk and stretch, your back cracking from the long hours you've spent hunched over.

You put the mice back into the cage, each of them getting a quick snuggle and kiss before you bolt it shut.

"Is it good food?" You ask as you go down the stairs.

"It's better than your mum makes!" Ona calls out and you grin.

"Yeah, but anything's better than Mum's cooking!"

Lucy grumbles, shaking her head. "One nice meal is all I ask. One meal where I don't get horrifically bullied!"

"We don't bully you," You say," It's character building!"

You and Ona laugh and Lucy just rolls her eyes. Sometimes, you think she would prefer if it went back to what it was like when you were first adapting to Ona.

"Oh," She says," I sent you those audio files you wanted."

"Thanks."

Lucy frowns. "She's been making you do those too?"

"Yeah, it's for a school project, right?"

You nod. "Uh-huh. It's for programming."

"I know I shouldn't have let you sign up for that," She says," It's all you ever do. I think you're losing sleep over it."

"You'll like it," You declare," What I'm working on. I promise."

"I'm sure that I will but it doesn't mean I think you're sleeping well. Put it down for once, that's all I'm saying."

You roll your eyes.

Lucy's always like that about your programming. Sometimes she lays asleep at gone three in the morning and can still hear you typing away on your computer for hours on end.

You return to your room after dinner ends and briefly come out to show Ona what you're working on while also denying Lucy the same opportunity.

"You've love it," Ona assures her at training the next day.

"Love what?" Keira asks," Oh, y/n's game? Yeah, you'll love it, Luce."

"Am I the only one that hasn't seen it?!" She demands, glancing around the room at people who are trying to not make eye contact with her. "Seriously? Raise your hand if you've seen it?"

Slowly, everyone raises their hand.

"This is so unfair!"

When you first got given the project, Lucy had been the first person to be clued into your plans. You showed her all your design sketches and all your ideas as you jumped between them.

At one point, one of your bedroom walls had been covered in concept designs and you would stand in front of it and point out certain aspects you liked and things you didn't think were quite perfect yet.

Lucu had been integral to your thought process and then all of a sudden she was shut out. You'd ask her to record voice lines or demonstrate doing something but you'd never explain why or what it was for.

You all but unplugged your computer when she came in unexpectedly and tried to get a sneak peak.

"Alright," Lucy says when she gets home to see you and Ona giggling on the sofa together," I've had enough. Show me your project."

You sit upright immediately, eyes wide.

"No-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I've had enough of the secrets."

She's serious. You can tell by the clench in her jaw and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

Lucy's stubborn but you inherited from her so you're stubborn too.

Your cross your arms in the same way as you stand. "No! It's not finished! You can see it when you're finished!"

"Hey," Ona intervenes before the argument can truly get heated. Her hand rests on your shoulder. "It's okay. Just show her."

"I can't! It's not ready!"

"Come on," Ona says," Show her."

You glance at your Mum, who is staring at you with that same stern look and crossed arms as the one that she came in with.

"Fine. Give me a sec."

Lucy sits on the sofa as Ona hooks up a laptop to the tv.

You come back in with a disc and nervously put it into the dvd slot.

Lucy doesn't know what to say when the opening credits appear.

'Lucy Bronze: The Game' with a little pixel version of her holding the Champion's League trophy up on her head.

"We were meant to make a game about a hero," You say," And you're my hero."

[kirammanswifey]

Will you, pretty please, make a pt 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their so? You know, some fluff to cure our wounds…

arcane characters reconcile with you after the breakup x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: let's be honest, both you and i needed this, i love a bit of drama but a bit of fluff is also necessary sometimes, and it was so nice to write this, i loved all the reconciliations, especially caitlyn's. thank you so much for all the support you give me, it makes me want to keep creating more and more content. as you know the requests are open ;)

break up link:

alternative sad final link:

@sugurulefttesticle thanks for the support babe :3

Viktor

The laboratory was shrouded in an unsettling gloom, the shadows cast by the machines seemed longer, darker. Loneliness had settled in every corner, but at the center of it all, Viktor was there, hunched over his plans, as if the weight of his thoughts was crushing him.

Since you had left, time had lost its meaning. The hours blurred into sleepless nights and frantic days of work. But nothing, no formula, no discovery, could fill the void you had left.

The door opened with a soft creak, but Viktor didn’t turn around. Perhaps he had imagined that sound before, hoping it was you, and he feared that this time it would be another illusion. However, your gentle steps echoed on the metal floor, and then his heart skipped a beat.

"Viktor..." your voice was barely a whisper, laden with emotion. "Please, look at me."

He closed his eyes, as if he needed to gather all his strength to do so. Slowly, he turned towards you, and seeing you there, a mix of surprise and something akin to relief crossed his face. But his eyes were filled with something deeper, a sadness he couldn’t hide.

“I didn’t think you would come back…” he said with a broken voice, barely audible. “After everything I did… I didn’t think I deserved your return.”

You stepped closer, each step carrying the intent to close the distance he had put between you. "Viktor, it was never about deserving. It’s about understanding that we need to face this together."

“I pushed you away because… I’m afraid,” he confessed, his voice trembling with the emotional weight. “Afraid that you’ll see me fail, that everything I am won’t be enough. Afraid that one day you’ll realize you can be happier without me.”

The weight of his words hit you like a wave, but you didn’t waver. “Viktor, we all have fears. But running from what scares us doesn’t make it go away. I’m here because I don’t want a future without you, even if it means facing our fears together.”

Viktor lowered his gaze, a silent tear falling down his cheek. “You are... the only thing that has kept me human. Without you, I become a machine, soulless, heartless. I don’t want to lose myself… I don’t want to lose you.”

Hearing those words, your own tears began to flow. You stepped closer to him, your hand reaching his face, gently caressing the cheek where the tear had fallen. “You won’t lose yourself, Viktor. Not as long as we’re together.”

He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes searching yours with a mix of desperation and hope. “How can you keep loving me after everything I’ve put you through?”

“Because I love you,” you said without hesitation. “Not for what you do, but for who you are, even when you can’t see it yourself.”

Viktor let out a sob he had been holding back, and without thinking twice, he moved towards you, wrapping you in his arms. It was a fragile embrace but full of promises. In that moment, you knew that, although the road would be difficult, together you could find a way to rebuild what had been broken.

Jinx

The night was heavy with rain and despair. Jinx stood at the edge of a building, her feet barely touching the edge as she gazed into the abyss below. The icy wind whipped her body, but she didn’t feel the cold. She was trapped in a whirlwind of dark thoughts, each more desperate than the last.

“End it,” the voices in her head whispered, cruel and persistent. “It’s best for everyone. Get rid of all the pain. You don’t deserve more.”

Her gaze was empty, lost in a place no one else could reach. She closed her eyes, letting the tears mix with the rain, allowing the weight of her emotions to push her further toward the edge.

But then, through the sound of the rain, she heard something. A voice. A familiar voice, filled with anguish. “Jinx, no, please... don’t do it.”

She opened her eyes slowly and saw you, soaked by the rain, your face marked by desperation and tears. You had run to her, not stopping, not thinking of the danger. Now you were there, fighting to reach her, fighting to bring her back.

“Why did you come?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I told you to stay away... not to come back.”

“Because I can’t leave you alone,” you responded, taking a step closer, each movement filled with fear and love. “I love you, Jinx. I can’t lose you like this.”

She shook her head, the tears falling uncontrollably. “You shouldn’t love me. Not after everything I’ve done. I’m a mess. I’ll ruin you, like I ruin everything.”

“Let me decide that,” you said, your voice broken but firm. “You’re not a mess. You’re my baby, and I love you, even when everything seems to fall apart. I won’t leave you alone.”

Jinx stepped back slightly, as if your words hurt her more than anything else. “I always hurt people... I can’t stop. I don’t want to hurt you, but I always end up doing it.”

“I can take it,” you replied, stepping closer, extending your hands toward her, knowing you couldn’t rush her. “Because I’d rather be with you in your worst moments than lose you forever. You don’t have to face this alone. Let me help you.”

She trembled, the weight of her emotions too much to bear. “I’m scared... scared that I can’t stop, scared that this darkness will consume me. I don’t want you to sink with me.”

“We’ll sink together if we have to,” you promised, your hands still extended, waiting for her to reach you. “I don’t care how much it costs. I’m here to stay, Jinx. I won’t abandon you.”

For a long and painful moment, Jinx remained silent, her gaze filled with a sadness so deep it seemed impossible to heal. But finally, her hands moved, barely brushing yours at first, then clinging to them as if they were the only thing keeping her anchored to this world.

“Promise me you won’t leave me,” she whispered, her voice broken by anguish.

“I promise,” you said, squeezing her hands with all the love and desperation you felt. “No matter what happens, no matter how dark it gets, I’ll always be with you.”

With those words, Jinx stepped back from the edge and collapsed into your arms, her body shaken by heart-wrenching sobs. The storm still raged around them, but at that moment, they were bound by something stronger than fear: the promise not to abandon each other.

Vi

The weeks without Vi have been torment. Each day feels like a part of you fades a little more, as if her absence is slowly tearing your soul apart. Today, you’re in the gardens of your home, holding a photo in your hands: the first one you took with Vi, both smiling, happy, unaware of the pain that would come after. Tears blur your vision as your heart breaks over and over with the memories.

Then, you hear footsteps, and there she is, standing, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and desperation. You quickly try to dry your tears, to hide the photo, as if that could erase the pain consuming you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice trembling, not sure if you can bear what’s to come.

Vi takes a step forward, her expression more vulnerable than ever. “I miss you,” she says, her voice broken. “I’m sorry for everything I said, everything I did. I can’t live without you.”

You close your eyes, feeling every word of hers like a direct blow to your heart. “None of that matters now, Vi,” you respond, trying to maintain your firmness. “My family has decided to marry me to a member of the Piltover council.”

Vi looks at you, her face pale. “Marry?” she whispers, as if the word were a curse. “You can’t do it. I know you don’t love anyone else. You can’t love anyone but me.”

Tears threaten to return, but you hold them back. “It’s not my choice, Vi. They decide for me. You’re the one who left me, who pushed me into this destiny.”

“I was an idiot,” Vi admits, taking another step toward you. “I know. But I can’t let this happen. I’ll fight for you, even if I have to face the whole world. I won’t lose you, not like this.”

“And what will that change?” you shout, unable to contain the pain any longer. “You can’t fight everyone! You can’t change who I am, what they expect of me.”

Vi stops, her gaze fixed on yours, with an intensity that leaves you breathless. “The only time you’ll stand at an altar will be with me by your side,” she says with unbreakable firmness. “I won’t let you marry anyone else. Not as an act of pride, but because I love you, and I don’t want to live without you.”

“Vi, please,” you whisper, the tears now falling freely. “This is bigger than us. You can’t fix it with pretty words.”

“Then I’ll fix it with actions,” she responds, with a resolve you hadn’t seen before. “I’ll go wherever necessary, face your parents, that damn council, anyone who tries to come between us. I won’t let them take you from me.”

Her voice trembles, but her determination does not. “I don’t want you to be my savior,” you whisper, your voice almost inaudible. “I want you to be my partner, my equal. But I can’t do this alone, Vi. I can’t keep fighting if you’re not by my side.”

Vi comes closer, until the distance between you both disappears. “You’ll never be alone again,” she promises, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I love you, and I swear I’ll fight for us, until my last breath. I won’t let them separate us, not them, not anyone.”

The weight of her words envelops you, and finally, you let yourself fall into her arms, allowing all the pain, fear, and contained love to overflow. Vi holds you tightly, whispering promises of a future together, promises that, this time, you’re willing to believe.

Caitlyn

The trial is a public spectacle, a circus meant to satisfy Piltover’s thirst for justice. You stand in the center of the room, hands tied behind your back, as the council leaders gaze at you coldly. The accusations fly over your head like sharp daggers: treason, conspiracy, disloyalty. All because you tried to talk to Ekko, to seek a peace you believed possible between the two cities.

Caitlyn stands at the back of the room, her face impassive, her gaze fixed on you. She hasn’t said a word since the trial began, and the emptiness in her expression breaks you more than any word of condemnation. You know she’s fighting internally, but her silence feels like a sentence in itself.

Finally, the judge announces the decision: "For the charges of treason, this court decrees that you will be stripped of your position as Enforcer and permanently exiled from Piltover."

The verdict falls like a hammer on your heart. You feel your world crumble in an instant. You look at Caitlyn, searching in her eyes for some sign of support, of compassion, but she remains motionless.

As the judge is about to strike the gavel to conclude the session, Caitlyn steps forward, her voice resonating with dangerous calm. "One moment."

The entire room turns toward her. Caitlyn advances with the elegance and authority she has always possessed, but there’s something new in her eyes, a spark of defiance.

"I cannot allow this sentence to be carried out," she says firmly. "This isn’t justice; it’s an act of fear and repression. The person you’re accusing only sought peace, a diplomatic solution to prevent more bloodshed."

The judge frowns, but Caitlyn continues before he can interrupt. "I am the leader of the Enforcers, and my loyalty is to true justice, not a system that punishes hope. If you expel my partner from this city, if you strip someone whose only crime was trying to save us all, then you’ll be provoking a rift you cannot control."

Caitlyn takes another step forward, and her voice lowers, but each word is a sharp edge. "I could easily take control, dismantle this corrupt system from within, and there would be nothing you could do to stop me. But that’s not the justice I seek. What I want is fairness, compassion, and truth."

The silence in the room is deafening. The council members exchange glances, understanding they are not dealing with someone who can be manipulated or intimidated.

After what feels like an eternity, the judge finally relents. "We will review the sentence. The accused will be sanctioned and will not be allowed to leave Piltover, but she will not be exiled or stripped of her position."

Caitlyn nods slightly, then approaches you, freeing you from your bonds with her own hands. "Let’s go," she murmurs, her voice soft yet filled with authority.

You leave the courtroom with her, and once you’re away from the others’ eyes, Caitlyn stops. For the first time, you see her tremble. "I’m sorry," she whispers, her eyes finally filling with tears. "I shouldn’t have doubted you. I shouldn’t have left you alone."

The vulnerability in her voice disarms you. Despite everything, despite the pain, you know Caitlyn did what she could to save you. "Cait," you say softly, taking her face in your hands. "What you just did... was the greatest act of love you could give me. You chose between authority and me, and you chose me."

She closes her eyes, tears falling freely. "It will always be you," she says, her voice trembling. "No matter the odds or the problems that come, I will always choose you. You are my justice, my reason, my everything."

The words sink into your heart, bringing overwhelming relief. You kiss her softly, sealing with that gesture the love that binds you. "You are my everything too, Cait," you whisper. "You always have been."

She holds you tightly, as if she’ll never let you go. "Together," she says in a whisper, her voice laden with emotion. "No matter what happens, we’ll face everything together. Because you are my choice, now and always."

Jayce

The air was thick with tension as the words that had been kept bottled up for so long finally exploded. Everything about him was focused on his ambition, on his vision for Piltover, and everything in you was hurt, torn apart by his indifference.

The last time you saw each other, it was a goodbye filled with cruel and cold words, an ending with no way back. You had decided that you could no longer be the shadow of his dreams, an accessory to the side of his grand plans. You didn’t want any more empty promises. You didn’t want to be the sacrifice.

But now, all that seemed about to change.

One day, you find yourself in your laboratory, lost in your thoughts, trying to push away the lingering pain. The door opens with a familiar creak, and your heart skips a beat without warning. It's not someone you expected to see. It’s him. Jayce.

Silence rises between the two of you. The air is heavy, as if time itself had stopped. He’s there, looking at you, but his gaze no longer holds the confidence it once had. In his eyes, there’s something else now: uncertainty, a faint glimmer of regret.

"I thought I understood," he says, his voice deep but hesitant. "I thought that what I was doing, the ambition, the future of Piltover... I thought it all had to be that way. That I had to leave everything behind, even you, if I wanted to get to where I am now."

You remain silent, the pain still fresh in your veins, but something inside you urges you to listen. You know that everything you’ve been through together can’t be left behind without an answer. You can’t help it, but something inside you breaks again at the sound of his voice, the same one that used to calm your fears, now trembling.

"But I haven’t forgotten you," he continues. "I haven’t stopped thinking about you, about us, about what we were. About what we could have been... if only I weren’t so blind."

You look at him, his presence so intense that it almost makes you doubt everything you thought you knew. "Then why are you here?" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest. "After everything you said... after everything that happened, why?"

Jayce takes a step towards you, hesitant but determined. "Because in the end, I realized that nothing is worth it if you’re not by my side. No matter how great Piltover becomes, no matter how grand my legacy is, if I don’t share that greatness with the person who truly matters."

His voice breaks at the end, as if he’s finally acknowledging something he had avoided all along.

A lump forms in your throat, and your hands tremble slightly. "Jayce..." you murmur, not knowing whether you want to believe him or if you’re afraid it’s too late for all this.

"I’m sorry," he says, his tone filled with remorse. "I’m sorry for not listening to you. For not realizing what we had until I almost lost it. I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. If you’ll let me... I want to try to make it right. I want you to be part of my life, not just a secondary option, not just something I pushed aside."

He gently takes your hands, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll break in his fingers. "I want to be better for you. And if that means changing, if it means prioritizing you, I’ll do it. Because I need you. Not just as part of my life, but as the center of it."

Jayce’s words envelop you like a warm embrace, but you’re still afraid. Afraid that this promise might be just another lie. However, a part of you wants to believe that all of this can be real.

"Do you really understand?" you ask, looking into his eyes with an intensity that reflects your doubts and hopes. "Because I don’t want to be a shadow anymore. I don’t want to be the sacrifice on your path to something that doesn’t include what we shared."

He nods, the determination in his gaze revealing that he’s not here just to talk but to prove it. "I promise you, I understand now. What we have is the only thing that truly matters."

Your breathing calms, though the uncertainty still lingers. "So what are you going to do? Are you going to stop fighting just for Piltover and start fighting for us?"

Jayce smiles, a vulnerable but sincere smile. "I’m going to fight for what really matters, for what I didn’t want to lose. For you."

A weight lifts from your shoulders, and for a moment, you feel that the pain of everything lost can be healed. Because, in the end, it’s not about power or control. It’s about what the heart chooses, about what people decide to cherish.

You step closer to him, gently touching his face, and at last, after so long, you allow yourself to be vulnerable. "I don’t want to lose you again," you whisper.

"And you won’t," he responds, drawing you even closer, as if there had never been space between you. "Never again."

Ekko

The cold wind of Zaun blew strongly as you entered the house, the echo of your footsteps resonating like a forewarning. You didn’t know what you were going to find, but something told you that Ekko was no longer the same. The house, once filled with laughter and camaraderie, now seemed empty, desolate.

Ekko was there, sitting in front of a table, his hands trembling slightly. When he saw you, his eyes widened, but there was no surprise, just a flicker of something else. Regret.

"Ekko..." you whispered, your voice breaking. In the distance, the image of the battle came to mind. That night when you almost lost him forever. It had been a brutal blow. The fear of never seeing him again consumed you.

"I saw everything, you know?" Ekko began to speak, his voice softer than usual, as if he were searching for the right words. "When I fell… when everything seemed to be ending… the only thing I saw… was you." A long sigh escaped his chest, as if those words had cost him as much as a contained scream. "I saw your face, your pain… and I realized, too late, that the only battle that truly mattered, the one I didn’t want to lose… was ours."

Silence filled the room, your eyes welling up with tears as you processed what he had just said. "Ekko, why...? Why couldn’t we make it work before?"

He looked at you deeply, as if each word was a struggle, as if he were slowly building up what he felt. "I told you that you weren’t enough... but it was me who wasn’t enough. I, who thought I could save everything, who thought I could be everything for everyone, but when I looked at my life… I saw nothing. I saw what I had lost the most. And it was me who pushed away the only thing that truly mattered."

He stood up with effort, his eyes filled with regret and pain, the way he looked at you was so intense it hurt. "I… I fought for Zaun, but the only real fight I should be fighting, the only one that matters, is for you." His words flowed out of his mouth, but it seemed he was seeking his own forgiveness. "I failed you. I failed you because I didn’t understand what it meant to have you by my side. You were always enough, and you always will be."

He approached slowly, his face now close to yours, and though his gaze was tired, there was something new in it: vulnerability. "Would you let me fight for you, even now, even though everything is broken?"

Your voice trembled as you looked into Ekko's eyes. "Why are you asking me now? Why when everything is already broken?"

"Because I saw you leave, I saw how my life dimmed without you. And I realized that despite everything, the only thing that keeps me standing is knowing that I can still fight for what I love the most. And that's you. You are my reason to keep going. My only reason." His eyes glistened, and for a moment, it seemed that time had stopped between the two of you.

The air was heavy with palpable pain, and your tears fell uncontrollably. No matter how much damage had been done, the love between you had never left, it had just been buried under layers of pride and distance.

"Ekko..." you whispered, your voice broken. "What if I'm no longer what you need?"

"You’ll always be. You always were. And you always will be, baby" he said, his voice cracking as he took your hands with a desperate strength. "I’m so sorry."

Finally, words were no longer enough, and in an impulse, you both leaned in, letting yourselves be carried by the need to heal what was broken. Ekko's tears mixed with yours, the pain transformed into something that needed to be healed, and within the shadows of the house, you both finally understood that although the path to reconciliation would be difficult, there was still a chance to fight for the love that hadn’t completely disappeared.

Silco

The warehouse's dim light wrapped around you like an ominous forewarning, the thick, heavy air clinging to your skin. You had fallen into the trap, and although you knew it, you couldn't stop fighting, trying to free yourself. You had been at the brink of death more times than you cared to count, but this time it was different. The face of the man who held you prisoner was not one you knew well, but you did know that he was under the orders of someone much more dangerous. Silco had never fully explained the world he moved in, but something about the surroundings told you there would be no escape. This wasn't just any kidnapping. This time you wouldn't be saved so easily.

The ropes binding your wrists tightened as your mind spun in search of a way out. Your breathing was uneven, and every attempt to calm yourself only multiplied the fear. The man in front of you, with harsh features and cold eyes, watched your every move with a cruel smile. The sense of threat was palpable, yet you tried to defy him, even though you knew it was a vain attempt.

"Silco?" You called, but your voice trembled, betrayed by panic.

"Do you think he'll come to save you?"

The man let out a mocking laugh, stepping closer, the blade of a knife catching the warehouse's dim light.

"Silco has too many problems to deal with you," he said with a calm that only made the situation more terrifying. "You should already know, in this world, there's no room for weakness. Especially not for a little whore like you; you whores are replaceable. And apparently, he's already replaced you, everyone knows it. But my boss thought it would be a courteous gesture to send him your head as a small gift."

Your thoughts blurred with the sound of the door bursting open, and a chill ran down your spine at the familiar echo of firm, controlled footsteps. It was him. There was no doubt.

The man didn't seem worried, his arrogance had blinded him. "What's the great Silco doing here? Jealous that I have your former little bitch now? Relax, I'll give her back to you once I'm done with her. You can keep a leg or both, but her organs are mine, I'm sure they'll fetch a good price in the market."

There was no response. Silco didn't say a word, but the tension in the air was so thick that the entire room seemed to hold its breath. His eyes, cold as ice, scanned the man before you and then fixed on you, without showing a hint of emotion. Without hesitation, his hand slid to the back of his belt. In the blink of an eye, the sound of the gunshot echoed through the room, and the man fell to the ground, his life fading so quickly he didn't even have time to comprehend it.

It all happened in a matter of seconds, but for you, the world seemed to stop the moment Silco's figure approached. The intensity in his gaze, that palpable energy that used to envelop you in his presence, was now just a reminder of everything you had lost. He freed you from the ropes without a word. The contact of his hand as he touched you sent a shiver down your spine, and though his gesture was practical, you couldn't help but wonder if, in some corner of his being, there was still something of the person he had been before. Something that had loved you.

"You'll be fine," he murmured, his tone cold and distant as always. But this time, it wasn't the tone of the protector, the leader who had cared for you. It was the voice of someone who had forgotten what it meant to feel.

You tried to pull away from his touch, the same touch you had once desired with all your being. You couldn't bear it any longer. You couldn't bear him, his indifference.

"Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep saving me? If you hate me so much, why save me?" Your voice was a broken whisper, but the pain in it was clear.

Silco remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that burned. You could see the internal struggle in his gaze, that shadow of doubt that had arisen between him and you. Finally, he took a step towards you, his face implacable, but his hands trembling as he approached.

"You didn't understand anything," he murmured, his tone low, more vulnerable than you had ever heard. "What I told you... it was all a lie. I didn't want to lose you, that's why I pushed you away. I didn't want you close to this world, to this hell... but I couldn't. I couldn't let you go. I thought if I pushed you away, you wouldn't suffer, but..." His voice broke briefly, and silence filled the space between you both.

You looked at his face, puzzled by the contradiction in him. Everything he had said before, everything he had done, seemed to crumble now before your eyes.

"You don't understand, do you?" You whispered, still fighting the lump in your throat. "What did you think? That I didn't know what I was getting into when I decided to stay with you? That I didn't know death would always be at my back? That I would always have to live on the edge because you insisted on being the damn king of a world like this?"

Silco didn't respond immediately, his face softened slightly, and a shadow of regret crossed his gaze.

"I know," he said in a hoarse voice, "I know everything I said was cruel. But what I didn't tell you... is that, even if the whole world collapses, the only thing that matters to me... the only thing I've truly loved... is you."

The impact of his words hit you, and for a second, time stopped. The pain, the rage, the uncertainty, all of it seemed to dissolve into the air. But above all, there was something else, something you never expected to hear from him.

"I chose you," you whispered as you slowly approached him. "Despite everything, I chose you. I chose you, and even knowing what it would mean, I would do it again. Because that's what love really is. Choosing the person despite everything, even knowing death is just around the corner."

A flicker of emotion crossed his eyes, something you rarely saw in him, and for a moment, all the hatred, all the anger that had existed between you disappeared, leaving you alone, vulnerable, but finally honest.

"Then, come back, please," he pleaded, his voice trembling, his hand seeking yours. "I can't bear a world without you. I can't lose you. I'll keep protecting you, no matter how many times I have to dirty my hands with blood."

You approached, touching his forehead with the softness of a caress that, in that moment, was the only thing that could heal the wounds you both carried.

"I'm here, my love," you whispered to him, as he closed his eyes, letting the pain and hope dissolve between his arms. "I'll never leave you again. No matter what happens. It will always be you and me against the world. Always and forever."

And so, in that moment, the broken words and wounds of the past were left behind. In their place, there was only the certainty that, in the end, the love they shared couldn't be destroyed, even if the whole world was in ruins.

Mel

It's close to three in the morning when you hear a knock on the door. You're half asleep, your head heavy, but something in the air alerts you. With every step you take towards the entrance, you feel your heart racing, as if you know something is about to change, something you can't stop. You open the door, and there she is.

Mel is not the same as before. She isn't wearing the luxuries that always accompany her, the perfectly applied makeup, or the golden jewelry that always shone on her skin. She's a mess, her gaze lost, her face haggard. The strong woman who always seemed in control is now broken, empty. And when she looks at you, her eyes are not the same. They are filled with pain, with a suffering she hasn't been able to hide.

Before you can say a word, Mel throws herself at you. She takes you by surprise, but you quickly wrap your arms around her. Her body is trembling, as if her entire being is collapsing. You feel her tears soaking your shirt, and in the silence of the early morning, she begins to speak through sobs.

"I faced her..." her voice is broken, and every word costs her more than it seems. "My mother... she told me... she told me I would never be enough. That I'm not. You were right." She pauses for a moment, unable to continue, as if the weight of those words is too heavy for her soul to carry.

You hold her tighter, even though the words coming out of her mouth are like daggers in your chest. "Mel, please... don't say that," you murmur, though the anguish in your own voice is as present as hers. "You're not what she says. You're not."

"I'm her puppet," she responds bitterly. "She manipulated me... manipulated me to make all this happen. To put Piltover in her hands. I started a war, and now... I can't stop it. I'm to blame for all of this." Her crying intensifies, and you can feel her pain as if she's tearing herself apart inside. "She called me weak... called me a disgrace to the Medarda clan..."

Those words leave you cold. You feel the air catch in your throat. But you can't let her fall. You can't let her sink further into that darkness. You pull her away slightly, holding her face in your hands, forcing her to look into your eyes.

"No, Mel," you say firmly, even though your heart is shattered. "You're not weak. You're not a disgrace. You are... you're Mel Medarda, an incredible woman, not Ambessa's daughter. And that's what you'll always be to me."

She shakes her head, as if your words are merely an illusion. "You don't see it... you don't understand," she says, her voice broken by the sobs. "I am everything she wants me to be. Everything she told me to be. And now I don't know who I am... I don't know if I'm what you need."

You move closer to her, almost brushing her lips, and you can feel her desperation. "What you need isn't to be what your mother wants, Mel. What you need... what you need is to be yourself. You are enough. You are more than enough. I want you, with everything you are. It doesn't matter what she thinks. I love you just the way you are."

Mel closes her eyes tightly, as if she wants to block out the pain of your words, but even she knows that something in you is true. You feel that, though she doesn't want to admit it, your love for her is a refuge, a sanctuary from the torment she's lived her entire life.

"I promise I won't leave you alone in this," you continue, holding her face in your hands. "We'll figure it out together, Mel. We will. You're not going to lose me. I'm not going to lose you."

Mel finally looks up and meets your gaze, her eyes filled with tears, but there's something different in her expression. It's not the emptiness she gave you before, it's a spark, something of hope that begins to ignite deep within her.

"I don't want to keep fighting alone," she says softly, almost as if it's a lost whisper. "I'm so afraid... so afraid of all this. Of what I've caused. But... I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," you reply with a sigh, holding her tightly, as if you could embrace all her fears. "I won't leave you alone. I promise. We'll figure it out. Together."

Time seems to stop at that moment. The world outside keeps turning, but you and Mel, in this instant, have only each other. And although the future is uncertain, you know that as long as you have each other, nothing can tear you apart.

Sevika

The sound of heavy footsteps is the first thing you hear. It’s late, the city is shrouded in darkness, but something in the air tells you this time it’s not a dream, not a nightmare. The knocking on the door startles you, and when you open it, you see her.

Sevika is standing in front of you, slightly swaying, her breathing uneven. The scent of alcohol is strong, mixed with the sensation of sweat and exhaustion emanating from her body. Her eyes, usually so firm, are now dull, almost lost, as if she’s searching for something she doesn’t know how to find.

“Sevika… what are you doing here?” you ask, your heart pounding in your chest, confused and worried to see her like this.

She doesn’t respond immediately, just stands there, watching you, as if she wants to say something, but the words seem stuck in her throat. After a long silence, she finally speaks, her voice deep and broken.

“I went to the brothels…” she murmurs, her head hanging low, as if it’s a confession, something weighing heavier than anything else. “To forget you. To stop thinking about you. I was with other people… so many other people. But everything I did reminded me of you. Of you and how… how I lost you.”

Your stomach churns at her words. The betrayal cuts you like a sharp knife. You step back from her, feeling the pain grow in your chest.

“No… why? Why did you do that?” The anger and hurt are clear in your voice, but there’s also a vulnerability you can’t hide. “Is that why you left me? To be with other people?”

Sevika lifts her head, her eyes reflecting a remorse so deep you can almost feel it as your own. “I didn’t do it to hurt you,” she says, her words faltering. “I did it because I thought it was what I should do… because I hurt you, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t want you to need me, I didn’t want to drag you with me into this damn abyss.”

Your heart beats so fast you feel it might burst out of your chest. Every word from Sevika hurts more, but there’s something in her gaze, in the way she’s opening up to you now, that makes you hesitate.

“But…” she continues, taking another step closer. “None of it worked. None of it. I remember you in every one of those faces. I remember you when I’m alone when I try to forget you. And the worst part, the most painful part, is that I can’t… I can’t stop wanting you.”

The words hang in the heavy air between you. The silence becomes unbearable. Sevika takes another step, closer to you until you can feel her ragged breath. She’s so close you can see every line on her face, the fragility you never thought she had.

“I… I never wanted you to see me this way,” she says, her voice breaking, as if every word costs her a world. “But please… listen to me carefully. There’s nothing I want more in this damn world than to be with you. I don’t want to keep living without you. I can’t. I love you. I can’t keep running from it. I can’t live with the weight of not telling you this sooner.”

The air freezes between you, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The hate, the confusion, the betrayal… it all mixes in your chest, but deep down, you know what she just said is real.

“What?” you manage to whisper, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “Are you serious?”

Sevika closes her eyes, as if fighting against herself. “I love you,” she repeats, her voice softer now, as if she’s giving you everything she had, everything she had kept in her heart. “I love you, and I don’t want to keep living this lie. You… you’re the only thing that matters to me. You’re my only reason for being here. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to keep suffering because of me. Please…”

Those “please” are like a plea, a silent scream that pierces through all the walls you had built around your heart. Sevika, the strong and fierce woman who always showed you her darkest side, is now on her knees before you, vulnerable, open, filled with a desperation you hadn’t seen before.

And in that instant, you feel everything crumble. The pain, the resentment, the confusion… it all disappears. Only love remains, raw and real, so strong it almost chokes you. Without thinking, you throw yourself into her arms, your arms wrapping around her with a desperate intensity, as if you fear that if you let her go, she’ll disappear forever.

“I love you too,” you whisper against her neck, the tears falling uncontrollably. “I love you so much it hurts.”

Sevika holds you with the same strength, her body trembling against yours. “Then let’s make it not hurt,” she murmurs, her words filled with a mix of relief and pain. “Let’s not let it separate us again, please.”

“That won’t happen again,” you reply, your lips seeking hers, not caring about anything else. “I won’t let it happen. What we have is forever.”

When your lips meet, the kiss is fierce, filled with the passion of everything that has built up, of everything that was left unsaid. It’s a kiss filled with desperation, love, and unspoken promises. It’s the beginning of a new chapter, one where the darkness won’t separate you, where love will keep you together, always.

[kinthulou]

This is all so so so true! I have had so many friends be too shy or anxious to share their writing with me because I'd shared mine first, and I'm always having to tell them that the only reason I'm so good at the writing thing? It's because I've been doing it since I was old enough to hold a pencil. Stories have been my Autistic Special Interest (TM) since I learned to read when I was two years old. All I've got that my friends don't is time and practice and I would never ever judge them for just starting out. I want to see their stories! I want them to feel encouraged and motivated to keep practicing! It's an art form!

And this is a shyness that I know super well from a different art form. My entire immediate family is incredibly talented in the music sphere. And I do mean talented--my youngest sib had no music lessons whatsoever and taught themself how to play piano and violin incredibly quickly. Middle sib picked up guitar as a teen like it was nothing. The mother unit was a stellar soprano in church choir, and the father unit, who was raised by a music teacher and so had a lot of encouragement and probably all the lessons he wanted, is not only a fantastic singer but can pick up any instrument for the first time and within ten minutes have figured out how to get music out of it. I had lessons galore. Lots of instruments. Choirs to join. All the encouragement. Almost none of it stuck. I was awful at music. Couldn't sight read music to save my life--and still can't, turns out I had an undiagnosed-at-the-time learning disability that impacts that skill--couldn't figure out my way around a string instrument, and my singing voice was so terrible I was constantly being told to stop.

Fast forward to last night, when I was listening back through a recording of a song I'd learned on ukulele last week. There were plenty of flaws in my performance, but when I listened to the vocal warm-up, in which I just sang the song a cappella to make sure my voice was good to go and I didn't need to refresh on the melody?

Fucking blew me away. You guys? Somewhere along the way I got good at singing? Like actually, legit, super pleasant to listen to, would buy an album of this stuff if it wasn't MY OWN VOICE, that kind of good????? What????? My music skills are catching up to my writing skills! I have more talent in writing than music, which is why there was a gap between getting good at writing and starting to get good at the music, but like. Just keep at it, everyone. It's just practice. Once day you'll look at your art, whatever its form, and be blown away by how far you've come. You just have to be willing to let go of perfection and give yourself the chance to try!

So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?

“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”

And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐲. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.❞

Are you the sun, the moon, or the stars? (Detailed + channeled song)

Masterlist.

Author's note,

I was just thinking about writing random things for the author's note. Usually I have nothing to add, but author's note divides well for 'masterlist,' and 'divider.'

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I.

“When a shooting star is in the air, everyone gazes at it like it is something magical, but when you come into the spotlight, no one does the same, and yet you keep shining. Why shine when everything around you does not do the same?” A lot of people question this. I see so many people in one room, you in the middle, a spotlight shining on you, and yet there is a pretty smile on your face as if you are the star of the show even though they are behind you holding a rose to someone else. So why is it that you shine whether or not people focus on you? What makes it easier for you to do such a thing even when you cannot and you are scared?

Why do people’s questions like these sometimes affect you when you are a star? When you are so radiant, both inside and out, so genuine, so caring, and such a pretty soul? What makes it easier for you to cower into a small ball in the back of your mind when others say things like that to you? Sure, you will put a front on, but why? Why not let them know that their opinion does not matter to you as you already do, but actually mean it? You should mean it.

If a shooting star grabs others attention instantly, if people make wishes when they see one, if people take photographs of it, if people are so in awe of it, why can’t you do the same with yourself and mean it? What makes it so hard for you to remove the mask with yourself and become genuine with your own heart? To go within the depth of your pretty heart and figure out what makes you so insecure about who you are because, mind you, you are supposed to shine. You are supposed to be in the spotlight, and you already know this. You are supposed to be seen and you know this; you are the one who is trying to be seen, so when it happens, why let others hurt you? Why let others take your actual spotlight away from yourself? Shine brighter around them and forget their words, it should not mean anything when you already know what you want.

Sometimes figuring out what we want can be challenging, everyone has been there, yet you already found it out, so why push it away out of fear? You are deserving of being in the spotlight, it is your dream, so make it yours, make it your shooting star and when the star burns up, let an illuminating trail of light appear so people know who you are, so people know that you did that, and go on with your day. Because you did that, you got out of that hellhole and shined brighter than any star, and fled to somewhere that makes you safe or you will. And yet, everything holds you back. It is okay to be seen, and it is okay to feel scared. These feelings are valid, but it is not okay to not push yourself and not figure out more to your heart by ignoring it. Stop ignoring the depths of your heart and this time, as you read this pile, take some time and learn about who you really are. Yes, you already know what you want, and that is awesome, but who are you really?

Are you someone who cowers away from their wants? Are you someone who shuns themselves when someone voices their opinions? Are you someone who laughs at the cruel words but cries later? Are you someone who desires to be assertive and wishes they could gain the spotlight to voice their opinions or also help or motivate others? Are you someone who thinks it is okay to be seen? Or are you all of these people, depending on your fears and emotions, but never doing anything about it?

I believe it is time for you to become a shooting star, take charge of your life, and become happier for yourself. Because when you become a shooting star, and someone tries to bring you down, you are still going to have that light trail leaving everyone breathless.

Channeled song.

Dos Oruguitas - Sebastián Yatra

Masterlist

Pile II.

“It’s a wish, a beautiful, beautiful wish. My, my, you are such a beautiful star illuminating in the sky, dancing around me. Oh, for how I wish, no.. truly long for your touch-’’

Your beauty draws others, they crave your touch, your presence, yet it is never anything sexual. Your mind is their dream escape route, meaning they desire to escape the world only if it is in your mind. Your mind has an endless amount of doors to so many possibilities of fun, you can think of anything and instantly make it into something fun. You could write a one page book and instantly become rich with how rich your creativity and vocabulary are. Your mind grabs people's attention like a star would if it were displayed in a museum. However, this pile is not about you, but about your future spouse and how they see you as a star.

“When am I going to see you again? Let’s meet again, I really really miss you. I want to clasp our hands together, intertwine them, and feel your breath on my lips from the last kiss we had on our first night out. When can I see you again? You free? I want to hug you and tell you that I love you and we just met.’’

Have you seen Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? If not, I will keep the spoilers to a limit, but a lot of the kids fell into their temptations dealing with the consequences, and Charlie, a boy himself, never did because he was amazed by everything from his poor background. Your future spouse will be amazed only by you, everything around them will be ‘’their’’ temptations. Meaning, they will see only you as the perfect prize and meeting you is their golden ticket. Being with you is their prize, though not in a materialistic or objectified way. For them, it is from pureness and genuineness. You became their excitement; you made them see the world as how it should be with how bouncy and bright your personality is. You made them feel grateful for being alive, to experience things with you, to see the world how you see it, and-

‘’AND I WANT TO LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH THAT WHEN WE MEET AGAIN, I WILL FUCKING BURY YOU WITH ALL OF MY HUGS SO YOU CANNOT BREATHE, GOT IT? You are my shooting star and I want to love you, love you so very much. I want you to become my charm necklace; I want to make it have a star jewel like you. Thank you, thank you.. and thank you, god/gosh, I love you so much.’’

You open your future spouse’s eyes so very much that they feel comfortable being their authentic self. They have been reserved all of their life, feeling scared to open up about who they are because they are from a traditional environment, and that type of pressure has shaped their mindset into what they believe their gender is supposed to be in life. But you have lifted something deep and made them realize there is more to life and that it is okay to be themselves because they will still have people who love and adore them for who they are. So thank you, on my side, for doing that for them.

A lot of you actually relate to them on struggling to be yourself, and some of you still struggle, but remember, every single person is complex. There are more than eight billion people in the world, if everyone was the same, it would be boring. And sometimes boring is okay, and sometimes it is not. But, what is more important is for you to realize how special our quirks can be, and how beautiful we can be if we let it shine. So sometimes, you will not be bubbly and feel as if you wanted to be stoic, then do that. Our personalities are not shaped into one label or category of personality traits, and that’s it. If that was the case, then the word 'complex' would cease to exist. But it exists, and so do you—and your future spouse. Meaning, everyone is complicated and everyone will act differently and that is okay. And sometimes people do not have a lot of layers to themselves for whatever the case is, and that is okay too.

So, go ahead and be the star that you are, because at the end of the day, you can only be your own person, and someone else will be theirs. You are a powerful star that deserves to be loved by them, but also yourself. Ignore those thoughts of insecurities that rise, and push yourself to be a star for yourself.

Channeled song.

Dos Oruguitas - Sebastián Yatra

Masterlist

Pile III.

When you look outside to admire the night sky, or to see what time it is, you always see a star, or stars, twinkling near a moon, whether it is crescent or a full moon. And if you are lucky, you will see the moon shine brighter or become like a blur. But if people were lucky enough to really get to know you, outside of the reputation you hold or the mask you wore, they would see how many layers there are of you. One could say it is similar to a split personality, or others would say you would be a great actor. So would the star be compared to how many stars there are in the world. The real question is, what makes it more fun to hide who you are than let others see you? Is it chaos? Fear, shame? Or the fear of getting hurt again?

When a moon goes through a lunar cycle, it loses some part of its shape, and when you wear so many masks, you lose parts of your personality. But in this circumstance, you can never get yourself back, but the moon can. A star shines brighter, shows its beautiful side, but you cannot because you lose each spark from your personality.

A star and a moon are supposed to coexist, they are supposed to connect; you are supposed to coexist with all of you, flaws and all. Each part of your personality, down to the smallest details, is supposed to coexist. Why despise the moon part of your personality, the darker parts of yourself? Why hide this:

You are such an elegant and creative person. You are so incredibly perceptive, with a cold heart that focuses on logic and moves into the night like a shadow figure. You can solve anything quicker than most people, and you are so intuitive that you can guess any show character’s name or their motive. You move softly around others, surprising them and surprising them with who they are; some would call you a psychic or a therapist with how keen you are with others. In other ways, you are somewhat tricky but lovable, but around your environment, no one is like you, so you have always been the loner. Blending in with others is easier, and losing touch with who you are has made you feel sick about who you are, but at the same time it feels safer.

Why hide someone like this? It’s beautiful. You are beautiful. Your shadow self is beautiful. Your other side is beautiful too. All parts of you are beautiful.

The fear that lingers will be your downfall, do not let it consume you when you know who you are. Stop letting that fear eat you alive, and instead realize how beautiful your shadow self is. As well, as stop hiding it from you, allow those thoughts to be around you, because it is better to be all parts of you. Our shadow self is not what makes us evil, or in other words, a bad person as others have called you. It is what makes us, us, and that is rather a beautiful thing, especially to embrace.

It is time for you to embrace who you really are and let go of the imposter parts of you. My intuition tells me, ''if you do not let go of all the lies you put around you, whom you speak with, those who know the fake you, and the lies you tell yourself, you will go mad and lose yourself in the deepest parts of a void. If you allow others to know all of the fake parts of you, you will, in the end, lose all of them, and all that time spent and connection you made would have been for absolutely nothing. That pain will kill you further if you would have told them. And though, when you do, it will not blossom into something beautiful; you will lose some people, but those who are genuine and understanding will stay with you, and that is more beautiful than the forbidden fruit Adam and Eve ate. Would you prefer to be them and then be pushed onto Earth without the beauty of heaven, or is it better to become parts of a ripe fruit, and that is the only thing you wish to eat? Hear your inner voice and let go of everything. Start to respect yourself.''

Channeled song.

Dos Oruguitas - Sebastián Yatra

Masterlist

Pile IV.

A lot of people are drawn to the words “sun,” “moon,” or “star(s),” but no one is ever drawn to the river that glistens when the moon is out, when the sunset comes up or down, when the star sparkles, and sometimes you can see the shadow of it if you truly focus on it. No one truly focuses on the small details of the river flowing nicely each time so others can notice the greater gesture. No one ever thinks about the river the way others do with those words, and yet, the river is never bothered to let others shine so they know of their grand self. You are not bothered letting others shine so they can feel better for themselves, or if they already know, it does not bother you when they take the spotlight. Because you already know how special and great you are, and you do not need anyone’s validation or comments to boost your confidence. You are already secure about who you are, so why be any of those when you are the calming river itself?

You are someone who prefers to be in the background and to help others when in need despite what others think of you. You prefer to hide your grand gestures, allowing others to question why you would not want others to see the help you gave them. And though some people think it may be an act, you know it is genuine, and that is enough for you. Sometimes, you wonder if it would be better for others to know that you are, in fact, a nice and genuine person, maybe a little prone to being too kind, but at the same time, you know that others could use that against you, and it is better to go along with the reputation you built for yourself, ‘’heartless.’’ The people who know you well question that reputation and sometimes try to make others change their minds, but it never works, and you have already told them it is a waste of time. Because everyone will only see you as that, and when they finally get to know who you are, they will realize they are wrong and that is good enough for you.

You are someone who is already content with yourself, as mentioned, but with everything else. You already know that it takes a long time to change and to heal, or become better for yourself, because you were like everyone else. You used to follow the crowd or believe others about others, so in a way, it makes a lot of sense. Gossip can become addictive for others, until it comes back to bite them and they become the town's new gossip, or if it is with someone they care for. And for you, and the people you know, you are part of the bunch who strays away from the concept of gossip; you have surrounded yourself with people who care for you despite what others think, and it is something you pride yourself in (in which you should). But others think your pride is gross and do not understand the concept of what a healthy friendship and/or relationship is. The environment you grew up in, not a healthy one but rather very.. toxic, shaped you into becoming the same in your past, but as you realize how toxic and evil you became. You decided to change for the better and became a beautiful river that you were deep down inside your heart.

A river never changes, it always stays in the same location, may have others put something into it without the care of the river itself, but the only change is its color. The color of a muddy brown finally being cleaned into a transparent clear blue that calmly streams for the marine animals living in it, the land underneath the water, and so forth, yet it always tries to get rid of the unwanted junk inside. The same can be said for who you are; those unwanted junks are your intrusive thoughts and unwanted memories you try to push back into your past. And though it is beautiful that you were able to clean yourself out of that muddy brown river, it would be better to forgive yourself for the pain you have caused to both you and others, but also what had happened in your past. Because fully healing does not happen if the person does not forgive themselves, and you have changed immensely, so forgive yourself. It is not that you do not deserve to be forgiven (your thoughts), nor is it about being worthy, it is the thoughts of those you harmed, killed, abused, and so forth. And I cannot say what they should say, but all I can say is, “thank you for healing every day and becoming better as much as you can. Your change is incredibly beautiful and rather challenging to do, so you should thank yourself for it as well as learning to forgive yourself. Because that was a long.. long time ago, and instead of wallowing in the guilt (which is understandable), I believe you should accept what happened and use those lessons as an opportunity in your life as of now.”

Channeled song.

Dear Theodosia - Hamilition

Masterlist

[itssliyahhxoxo]

hey lovely i have a request i was thinking like paige n reader n they baby girl or boy says they first words or the reader has a baby from a previous relationship nd the baby calls paige mama or sumn

You and Paige met the months after your break up with your baby daddy. When you found out you were pregnant you were filled with joy, your boyfriend not so much. The arguing started about a month after and went on and n about the baby.

Until you had enough and left, you spent the rest of your pregnancy with your best friend (friend name)

After you gave birth you dedicated your life to your precious baby girl, meaning.

Baby comes first

No men

No getting close with anyone

You stuck with those rules for the past five months,until your best friend had enough she basically dragged you and baby girl out the house and drove to her moms. “Are you sure this is ok” you asked her mom “yes, sweetie go have some fun. Besides it’ll be nice to spend some time with my grand baby” she smiled.

Yes you weren’t related but you and (friend name) see each other as sisters and her mom was always there for you as well.

“And maybe you can find you a new man” she smirked. you laughed shaking your head “bye ma” you kiss her cheek before leaving.

That was the night you met Paige, and god was she a flirt, she just wouldn’t give up “come onn, just one chance” she clapped her hands together as she followed you to the bar.

You shook your head with a laugh “you don’t give up do you?” You took a seat at the bar “nope” she smirked “what could go wrong?”. Your heart getting broken again, that’s what could happen. You knew Paige was a good person, but was just scared.

“You’re not gonna stop until I say yes, are you?” You looked at her. she shook her head, you looked down and sighed “fine..” “YES” Paige shoot up and cheered “but!!” You spoke up “uh-oh” she panicked.

“I..I have a daughter” you looked down, Paige slowly sat back next to you “how old” she asked softly “five months” you answered still not looking at her Paige nodded her head in thought “ok”.

You looked at her confused “what’s her favorite show?” Paige asked “why?” You asked. “So I know what to get her whenever I meet her” she smiled. You blinked “look, I don’t care about you having a kid. I like you a LOT” she said making you laugh a little.

“And I want to be with you” she took your hand in hers. After that night you and Paige had your first date which led too her meeting baby girl.

She drove you to (friends name) house to go get her due to her being fussy. “Shhh” you whispered in her ear softly rubbing her back, Paige watched with a smile seeing how different you were with her (baby name) lifted her head up to look at Paige with her big curious eyes, Paige panicked her eye widened as she froze.

You turned to look at her “you ok?” you asked seeing her face, she nodded that was all she could do. You’ve noticed her gaze on (baby name) and smiled “you wanna hold her?”. Paige’s eyes snapped to you “you su-sure I don’t wanna- you just got her to settle down..”.

“It fine Paige, she’s fine” you giggled at her nervousness you walked towards her, (baby name) eyes still on her.

You slowly place her in Paige’s arms and slowly backed away to see what would happen, both stared at each other with widened eyes. (Baby name)reached up and held Paige’s face in her chubby hands, you couldn’t help but laugh at Paige’s reaction.

(Baby name) begins to rub her eyes telling you that she was tired, she placed her head on Paige’s chest and began to fall asleep. Paige heart stopped, yes she held plenty of kids before but this was different. She looked back at you and saw you smiling at them, she looked back at (baby name) and softly smiled.

That was when she knew there was no way she would be able to let you and her go.

It’s been over a year now and things were going really good during that time you and (baby name) Paige’s mom and family, and they loved you especially (baby name).

You thought she was spoiled before, but now she was spoiled every.single.day, whenever Paige came home from practice she would bring home a toy for baby girl but tonight was different “Paige!” You looked at her shocked, she held what looks a four month old husky “what she loves it” Paige placed the puppy down and it immediately ran to (baby’s name).

It began licking her face and running around her making her laughs and giggles fill the room, Paige wrapped her arms around you from behind as you to watch your baby girl play with her new puppy “you spoil her to much” you mumbled in her arms “anything to make my girl happy” Paige kissed your head.

“Yeah, well I won’t be so happy in the morning. When I’m picking up it’s shit” you told her “don’t worry about that, I’ll handle it” she laughed. (Baby name) slowly waddled her way over toward you two “m..mama” she reached forward Paige.

You and Paige looked down at her shocked, Paige picked her up and held her in her arms “mama” (baby name) mumbled in Paige chest. Paige looked to you “did she just..” you nodded not knowing what to say. “Are you ok with her calling you that?” you asked.

Paige thought about it, over the past years she grown to love (baby name) like her own but hearing her call her mama mad it deal real. “I think so” she nodded and looked down at baby girl she was half asleep gripping Paige’s shirt the sight made her heart flutter.

“Let’s get a house” she blurred out looking back at you “w..what?” You looked at her shocked “I want us to get a house” she said more confident “we’re going to need more space with that one” she nodded to the puppy who was now playing with one of Paige‘s many shoes. “And we’re gonna need a backyard for when I teach her how to play basketball” she smirked.

“Oh really, who said she was playing basketball” you smiled gently getting closer to her “me” she pulls your by the waist and kisses you with so much love. That when You knew you made the right decision that night.



If there is any misspelled words, just ignore it I didn’t have time to go over it.

@thatonequeer0358 @numberonepartyanth3m @melpthatsme

[uconnwbbcrashout]

last winter break

chapter iii: “i think i’m gonna kiss you”

paige x azzi

word count: 6.5k

content: swearing, some fluffy banter, and a healthy dose of angst

chapter list: here

author’s notes: after a long wait, it’s finally here!! i wanna apologize for the 100th time for how long this took me to write. as you can tell by the word count compared to chapters i & ii, this one kinda got out of hand. but i'm happy w/ how it turned out and i hope it's worth the wait!! :) enjoy!

Winter 2022-2023

AZ: hey, i saw the news

AZ: about your acl i mean

AZ: i hope you’re doing okay p

p (IGNORE): thanks. good as i can be yk

p (IGNORE): surgery went well and all

p (IGNORE): but hey

p (IGNORE): delayed not denied right ?

changed user’s contact name to “p”

AZ: right

AZ: you’ll be okay

AZ: i know it

p: i hope youre right

*****

p: did you see the schedule

p: we play you guys

p: dec 11

p: well i wont be but

AZ: i did!!

AZ: you guys don’t stand a chance btw

p: damn way to kick a girl while shes down az

AZ: sorry?

*****

AZ: happy birthday paige

AZ: you’re so old

p: shut up

p: thank you azzi

*****

p: happy bday az

p: yOu’Re sO oLd

AZ: ok i had that coming

AZ: but thank you :)

*****

p: just saw the clip

p: hope you and your knee are ok <3

p: rest up azzi

AZ: thanks p

AZ: looks like we’re both gonna be on the bench next week

AZ: we’re still beating you guys though

p: well see bout that

*****

AZ: told you so

p: i couldnt even play bro

AZ: and i could??

p: whatever

p: we beatin you in march idc

AZ: sure p sure

*****

Azzi sighs, stretching her thumbs again where they hover over the keyboard on her phone. She’s laid out on her parents’ couch, legs propped up on a pillow, feeling utterly ridiculous as she tries to muster up the courage to send a text to Paige. She scrolls back up through their conversations from the past few months for what must be the eighth time today, overanalyzing every word.

It shouldn’t be this difficult, really—it’s hardly the first time this year that she’s been the one to reach out and text Paige. And she’s literally just trying to ask her if she’s going to a party. It’s an extremely low stakes conversation topic.

And yet here she is, practically ripping her hair out at the thought of pressing "send."

In all honesty, it’s a pretty good way to sum up what this year has been—so much more difficult than it ever needed to be.

And to say it’s been a weird fucking year would be an understatement.

After a disappointing tournament run in March, Maryland’s team changes significantly, so much so that Azzi has a hard time keeping track of it all. Graduations, transfers out, transfers in, new freshman—they're basically an entirely new team by the time the season starts up again in the fall.

And then she meets a girl, Maya, late one night in February when she’s cramming for an exam in the student union. She’s on the track team—a sprinter—tall, and devastatingly pretty. She’s unwaveringly confident, too, sitting across the empty table from Azzi and striking up a conversation with her easily. They end up talking for so long that night that the cleaning staff have to kick them out.

Things just click after that.

It's nice. It’s safe. It’s fun.

It’s sneaking into team housing well past curfew. It’s study dates at their favorite coffee shop on campus. It’s stolen hoodies and cold winter nights, huddled together for heat. It’s good luck kisses and lingering hugs before away games or meets. It’s late-night FaceTimes when there’s hundreds of miles separating them. It’s flower bouquets and greeting cards left on kitchen counters.

It’s something that feels a lot like the beginning stages of love.

And, above all, it makes Azzi happy.

There’s just one persistent, unavoidable problem—there's never enough time. Differing practice schedules. Basketball games and track meets. Press conferences and weight training. Midterms and March Madness. Conference championships and long flights across the country.

And it’s unfortunate, really, because a big part of Azzi thinks things could’ve been different. That maybe in another life—one where they met at a different time—things might have stuck. Things might have been long-term, could have worked out.

But in this life, they don’t.

After that it’s fairly quiet. Some random hookups here and there over the summer. A couple dates that fizzle out by the end of the night.

In the end, nothing she really regrets, but nothing that's as real as those few months were with Maya.

And then she reinjures her knee in December, forcing her to be sidelined. An unfortunately familiar seat on the bench with her name on it.

And then, of course, there's this weird situation with Paige. One that Azzi herself more or less created when she first reached out in August after Paige tore her ACL. It isn't like texting a stranger, but it also isn't like texting the old best friend she once knew. It's something in between, some strange acquaintance-like relationship that leaves Azzi entirely confused as to what she should or shouldn’t say.

Even if it is a bit strange, and maybe not quite ideal, she has to admit that it's still nice to have Paige back in some capacity. And enough time has passed, enough people have come and gone, that Azzi's just starting to warm up to the idea of someday calling Paige her friend again. Just a little bit.

Oh, and maybe Azzi also still finds her to be incredibly attractive.

But that's hardly relevant.

Her phone vibrates in her hand, catching her so off guard that she nearly drops it on her face. Her heart starts pounding in her ears, her stomach fluttering with anticipation—

Damn, it’s just from Diamond.

Azzi groans, clicking the notification.

d💎: you text her yet

Azzi rolls her eyes at her friend’s impatience.

AZ: almost

d💎: you’re actually killing me here

d💎: gimme her number

d💎: i'm gonna text her if you don’t

AZ: absolutely not

AZ: i regret telling you anything

d💎: no you don’t

d💎: now quit stalling and text. her.

AZ: oh my god FINE

Azzi swipes out of their conversation and taps back into her one with Paige.

Here goes nothing.

AZ: hey, you going to that stupid party again this year?

She turns her phone off immediately and slams it face down into the couch cushions, bringing her hands up to cover her face.

Her phone chimes not more than 30 seconds later, and Azzi half expects it to be another text from Diamond asking for updates.

But it isn’t.

p: yo

p: the one at that football players house??

p: maybe. ion know yet

“Oh my God,” she mutters, fingers already flying over her keyboard.

AZ: dude

AZ: it’s literally tomorrow

AZ: how do you not know

p: dude

p: ima busy person

p: my time is valuable yk

p: wbu tho

Azzi tries to fight the smile that’s forming on her face. She thinks for a minute, deciding to answer honestly.

AZ: i was thinking about it

Azzi watches with bated breath as the three dots on the screen disappear and reappear several times.

p: then maybe i will

Azzi sighs, closing her eyes and pressing the side of her phone into her forehead.

I’m never getting a straight answer out of her, she concedes.

*****

If anyone were to ask Azzi, she would argue that a cropped cami tank top with a pair of ripped jeans is perfectly reasonable attire for a casual house party in early January. The below-freezing temperatures are simply irrelevant.

It, of course, has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Paige is likely to show up tonight. Azzi doesn’t think about how Paige had hugged her from behind and mumbled, “Looks so good, baby,” the last time she wore this shirt in front of her. She also doesn’t think about how Paige always seems especially distracted when she wears her hair up in a bun like this, blue eyes constantly straying to the lines of Azzi’s neck and collarbones.

She absolutely does not, under any circumstances, think about that. At all.

Azzi just likes to feel and look good is all. She’s got the former down easily, and she thinks she’s managed the latter, too, if the number of people who have come up to her tonight is any indication. Guys, girls, people she recognized and people she didn’t—it didn’t really seem to matter. It felt like there was an endless stream of drinks being offered, numbers trying to be given out, and suggestive conversations directed at her. It was flattering, sure, but none of them had the right tint of blonde hair, the exact shade of blue eyes, the correct build of muscle she had been searching for all night.

She downs the last of her drink, crushing the plastic cup in her hands and tossing it in the trash can behind her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, checking the time. No texts.

Lifting a hand up to rub at her eye, she yawns and scans the room one more time, debating whether she should just call it a night at this point.

And then she feels it—the soft graze of fingers along her lower back, just above the waistband of her jeans. A warm, featherlight touch, then the familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood and a low voice in her ear.

“Azzi.”

She spins towards her quickly, her breath catching in her throat at the proximity of Paige’s face to hers, just inches away. Azzi leans back a bit, mostly to give herself a chance to breathe, and feels the hand on her lower back slide to lightly press on the side of her hip.

Azzi drags her eyes over Paige then, unable to help herself, taking in the tech fleece pants hanging low on her hips and the black fitted T-shirt straining against the muscles in her arms. Azzi’s a bit surprised to see that she’s wearing her glasses—it’s not something she does very often. Paige is smirking, her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and Azzi swears she must have gotten taller since the last time she saw her.

She manages to catch her breath for a moment, flashing a smile that she hopes doesn’t reveal the nerves that she’s feeling. “Hi, Paige.”

Neither of them seems to know what to do after that because, honestly, what are you supposed to do in this type of situation?

To Azzi’s surprise, Paige makes the first move, stepping into Azzi’s space and snaking her other arm gently around Azzi’s waist. It takes Azzi a few seconds to respond before she leans into Paige and circles her arms around her shoulders. Azzi’s heart rate picks up even more when she feels Paige’s breath being released heavily against her, the tension leaving her shoulders.

“This okay?” Paige asks, her breath hot against the outside of Azzi’s ear. Azzi hums in agreement, settling her head to rest on Paige’s shoulder.

It probably should be awkward, and it is for just a second or two, but muscle memory kicks in and it ends up being more comforting than anything. It’s a hug after all, something they’ve done probably hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the years.

They could be there for a few seconds or a few minutes—Azzi really isn’t sure. At some point she feels someone bump into her as they walk by and that snaps her out of it, makes her realize that they are still at this party and people are definitely looking. She takes a step back and clears her throat, patting Paige’s shoulder once before dropping her arms to her sides.

“You look good, P,” Azzi admits, smiling softly.

Paige coughs and looks over her shoulder for a second before turning back to face her and—

Is she blushing?

She coughs again before saying, “Thanks. You do too, Az.”

Azzi smiles appreciatively, looking down at her hands. “Couple people here seemed to think so, too.”

Paige chuckles. “Yeah, saw ‘em all lined up for you.”

“You been talking to anyone else here?”

“Nah, not really,” Paige replies, waving her hand, and Azzi glances up to meet her eyes. Paige shrugs. “Only really came here for one person, you know?”

Azzi doesn’t have to ask her who that person is—the way Paige’s eyes are trailing across her face tells her everything she needs to know.

“Is that so?” Azzi crosses her arms in front of her, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Mhm.” Paige glances around the room before leaning into Azzi’s space again. “Hey, wanna get outta here? We can go somewhere else or somethin’.”

“I guess I can swing that,” Azzi agrees, hoping she comes across as indifferent as possible.

“Aight, cool.” Paige pats her pockets, searching for her keys. “You take your car here?”

Azzi shakes her head. “No, I walked.”

Paige raises an eyebrow at her, an incredulous look on her face. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” Azzi tries again, patting her own pockets to prove that they're empty.

“You walked here,” Paige repeats, still disbelieving. “In this weather.”

“It was only, like, 20 minutes.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s better for the environment!”

“You’re insane.”

“Oh my God, can we just take your car or not?” Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Always the passenger princess.” Paige remarks, looking smug. “But, yeah, let’s go.” Paige beckons for Azzi to follow her to the coatrack. Paige holds the door open as they pull on their coats, both of the waving their hands over their shoulders as some people call out to them.

The short walk to Paige’s car is quiet, the occasional crunch of footsteps on snow the only sound. Azzi slips into the passenger seat and clicks her seat belt on, watching as Paige does the same in the driver’s seat. Paige drums her fingers quietly on the steering wheel, and Azzi glances out the window to look back at the house they just came from.

“So, uh, where to?” Paige asks, breaking the silence.

Azzi thinks for a moment before turning to Paige with a grin.

“Slushies?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

*****

“There’s just no way he said that,” Azzi giggles, readjusting her feet where they rest on Paige’s dashboard. They’re parked outside of Azzi’s parents’ house, heat blasting through the vents, SZA playing softly through the speakers, conversation flowing freely, half-drunken slushies melted and abandoned in the cupholders between them.

“I swear it’s true!” Paige promises.

“He for real told you that you have ‘the shittiest shooting form he’s ever fucking seen’?”

“On God, he did,” Paige laughs, running a hand through her hair. “Coach can be ruthless when he’s pissed off, man.”

“And you wanted me to come to UConn because?”

“Oh, c'mon, Az. You know no one can stay mad at you.” Paige reaches out and pokes at Azzi’s cheek. “Not with that face.”

Azzi pushes her hand away, flustered. “Shut up, P.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Whatever.”

A comfortable silence stretches on then, the two of them taking a moment to enjoy each other’s presence.

Azzi glances down at her watch. “I should probably get going,” she admits regretfully, turning around and rummaging in the backseat for her coat.

“Lemme pull up for you,” Paige insists, putting the car in drive and turning into the driveway.

She feels Paige put the car in park again just as she manages to find her jacket. “Thanks,” Azzi starts, pulling the door handle—

It’s locked.

What the hell?

Azzi yanks on it twice to be sure before turning to level her a stare. There’s a mischievous glint in Paige's eye that she doesn't trust. “So, are you letting me out or what?”

Paige keeps smiling widely at her, not moving or saying anything.

“Paige.”

Azzi watches Paige nod her head towards the front of the house, and Azzi follows the motion to see Curry and Stewie poking their heads through the curtains, their barks echoing off the window. Azzi shakes her head and glances back at Paige. “What is it?”

Paige shrugs, bringing her hands up to rest on the wheel again. “You gotta at least let me see my kids, Azzi.”

“Are you inviting yourself inside my house?” Azzi feels her eye twitching.

“Please,” Paige begs, and then she honest to God pouts at Azzi. “Think I’m due a visitation.”

“You are actually so annoying.” Azzi leans her head against the cool glass of the car window, closing her eyes.

“Is that a yes?” Paige asks, her voice lifting excitedly.

“It will be if you unlock this.” Azzi pulls on the door handle repeatedly.

“Ha, let’s go!” Paige exclaims, pressing the "unlock" button immediately and sprinting out of the car. She’s on the front porch and jumping in place before Azzi even has the chance to close the car door behind her.

“Alright, chill out,” Azzi mutters, brushing past her and turning the key into the lock. Paige pushes the door open the rest of the way and stumbles through the doorframe, kicking her shoes off. She makes it about five feet into the house before she drops to her knees and starts petting and hugging the two dogs racing around her.

Azzi locks the door behind her, and she can’t help the smile that overtakes her face when she sees Paige laid out on the ground, Stewie and Curry clambering over her to lick her face.

“My kids,” Paige coos, cradling Stewie in one arm and scratching Curry’s chin with her other hand. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s home now.”

Shaking her head, Azzi tears her eyes away from the scene and flops onto the couch. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and makes herself comfortable.

Paige stands up after a few minutes and stretches her arms above her head, groaning dramatically. Azzi catches a glimpse of her shirt riding up and her boxers peeking out before she pulls her phone closer to her face, fighting the heat creeping up on her cheeks. Paige doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she luckily doesn’t say anything about it. She moves to peek her head in the kitchen and the hallway before she reenters the living room.

“Nobody home?” Paige asks, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Azzi grabs a throw pillow off the couch and hurls it at her, but Paige catches it easily. “Stop. They went to a family holiday party thing I think.”

“And how the hell did you get outta goin’ to that?” Azzi feels the couch shake as Paige hops over the back of it and settles in across from her.

She puts her phone down and looks at Paige more fully then. “Like you said, no one can say no to this,” she explains, flashing her signature dimpled smile and pointing at it with both hands.

“I was jokin’ when I said that,” Azzi thinks she hears Paige grumble as she hugs the pillow she’s still holding to her chest.

Azzi goes back to scrolling on her phone, and she sees Paige throw the pillow up in the air and catch it a few times in her periphery.

She hears a heavy sigh, but she ignores it, opting to respond to a few texts from her teammates instead.

Then there’s another sigh, somehow more emphatic than the last, and the push of a foot against her own.

“Azzi.”

Maybe if I ignore her for long enough, she’ll stop, Azzi considers.

“Azzi.”

Just pretend you don’t hear her.

“Azzi Fudd.”

When has that ever actually worked, though?

“Azzi, please.”

Oh my fucking God, why did I let her in my house?

She clicks her phone off and drops it at her side, glaring daggers at Paige. “What?”

“Dude, I’m bored,” Paige complains.

“Dude, you literally do not have to be here,” Azzi points out.

“Entertain me, please.” Paige is practically begging now. “Aren’t you supposed to do that for your guests?”

Azzi closes her eyes and throws an arm over her face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely annoying?”

“Yeah, you. Multiple times today, actually.”

“I was so right about that.”

“Okay, but can we do somethin’?” Paige asks again, kicking at her foot. Azzi kicks back, sliding her arm off her face.

“2K?” she suggests, gesturing to the controllers on the coffee table.

Paige’s eyes light up and she’s up in a flash, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on. “Fuck yes. Imma be the Lynx, though.”

“Whatever you want.”

*****

“Damn, you letting me win now, Paige?”

“Bro, ‘course not.”

“What’s your excuse this time?”

“Not my fault you keep distractin’ me, Az.”

“Not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me, P.”

“Shut up. One more, I swear. Then we can quit.”

“Only if you win though, right?”

“Bro, just play.”

“Fine.”

*****

It’s many, many, games later—the clock on the wall having ticked over to the A.M. hours long ago—before Azzi has to tap out, eyes bleary and energy drained.

“Alright, I’m done,” Azzi sighs, tossing the controller on the coffee table and standing up slowly to stretch her back.

“Finally givin’ up?” Paige challenges, raising her eyebrows at her. Amazingly, somehow, she doesn’t look tired in the slightest.

“No, I’m not 'giving up.' I’ll literally fall asleep if we play one more.”

“If you say so.”

“Paige,” Azzi whines, pouting at her. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Aight, let’s be done then,” Paige agrees, setting her controller aside and standing up to stretch out.

“Are you awake enough to drive home?” Azzi questions.

“Me? Imma be just fine,” Paige assures her, moving toward the door. She bends down to pick up her shoes and pulls the curtain aside with a finger to peer outside. “Yeah, it’s no problem—oh, shit.”

Azzi strides over, reaching for the curtain to open it. “What is it?”

“Uh, well,” Paige starts, voice slightly muffled behind the thick fabric. “There’s a—”

Azzi grabs hold of the curtains, yanking them away to reveal the scene outside. Her jaw drops.

“—blizzard,” Paige finishes.

A fresh layer of snow, several inches deep, covers the ground. The wind lifts it up, blowing it around wildly, creating near whiteout conditions. Azzi can barely see Paige’s car parked in the driveway, a mere ten feet away.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Azzi mutters, staring disbelievingly out the window.

Paige furrows her brow, seeming to think something over for a minute. “Nah, I’ll still drive home.” She sits down on the recliner, untying the laces on her shoe.

“Like hell you will,” Azzi scoffs.

Paige looks up at her, pausing her movements. “Bro, chill. It’s, like, a couple blocks.”

But Azzi is persistent, moving to guard the door, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not letting you go out in that.”

“I can drive slow.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that,” Azzi retorts, readjusting her arms. “Just stay, please. It’s too dangerous.”

“If you’re sure,” Paige concedes, tossing her sneakers behind her.

“I am.”

“Cool,” Paige stands, stretching her arms again. “I got the couch then.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, punches Paige’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t be stupid, P.”

Paige brings up a hand to rub at the spot Azzi hit, wincing in mock hurt. “Ow. Stupid ‘bout what?”

“You can just sleep in my bed. You are a guest after all,” Azzi points out, referring back to what Paige had said earlier.

Paige wiggles her eyebrows for the second time tonight, and Azzi considers punching her again, harder this time. “You want me that bad, huh?”

“Oh my God, stop. Look, I’ll take the couch, you take the bed? That fine?” Azzi offers, rubbing at her eyes.

“That’s dumb. You’re not gonna sleep in your own bed?”

Azzi throws her arms up in the air exasperatedly. “What do you suggest then?”

“I’on see why we can’t both just sleep in the bed,” Paige shrugs, not really meeting Azzi’s eyes.

How the hell did we get here?

“Whatever, sure,” Azzi relents, even though every fiber of her being is urging her to do the exact opposite. “I’m too tired for this. My family is gonna be home soon and I wanna sleep at least a little before they barge in.” She turns away and starts dragging her feet down the hallway to her room, hearing Paige padding quietly behind her. She pushes the door open with her shoulder and immediately goes to her closet, searching for something more comfortable to change into.

In the corner of her eye she spots Paige, shuffling about the room, eyes roaming over her pink bed sheets, the assortment of unicorn stuffed animals on her desk, the rainbow decals on her mirror. “Haven’t really changed much, huh?

Azzi grabs a pair of fleece pajama pants and a T-shirt, chuckling. “I don’t exactly live here anymore.”

“Good point.” Paige nods her head, running a finger along Azzi’s trophy shelf. Her eyes spot one item in particular and she takes it off the shelf. She flips the medal over to study the engraving on the back. “‘2018 Minnesota State Tournament: Class AAAA Champions’,” she reads with a scowl on her face. “Still can’t believe you guys beat us.”

Azzi walks up to her and snatches the medal from her, setting it back in its place. “Still can’t believe you’re not over it. This was, like, five years ago.”

“Aw, c’mon now. That last foul call was bullshit and you know it,” Paige grumbles.

“I think you’re just mad I dropped 30 points on your ass,” Azzi teases.

Paige frowns, crossing her arms. “No one was helpin’ me on defense.”

“Uh huh. Look, I’m gonna get dressed and stuff,” Azzi calls over her shoulder on her way to the bathroom. She pauses in the doorway and points a finger at Paige accusingly. “No touching anything else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paige promises with a mock salute.

Azzi changes into her pajamas and gets ready for bed as quickly as her fatigued body will allow, which is to say not very quickly at all. By the time she’s done, she’s so drained that she’s sluggishly dragging her body back to her room.

She’s rounding the corner into her room, dirty clothes from the party in hand, when she happens to look up. She chokes on air, clothing falling out of her hands, and stumbles to regain her balance.

Paige is sprawled out on her bed, hair splaying across her pillows, the light of her phone screen lighting up her face.

But none of that is the issue here.

The issue here is that Paige is wearing a sports bra and pair of boxers and that’s it.

The lines of her hips are visible, her abs pulled taut, and Azzi suddenly feels like she needs to cover her eyes, unless she wants to start choking on air again. “What the fuck are you doing?” she squeaks out, hands covering her face.

She hears Paige laugh. “It’s hot as hell in here. I’on know why you keep the temp at, like, 75 degrees all the time.”

“So you had to take your clothes off?”

“It’s nothin’ you haven’t seen before anyways.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi leans against the wall, dropping her hands from her face but keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut. “Can you—God, can you at least put a shirt on or something?”

I’m not sleeping a wink tonight if she doesn’t.

She hears the bed creak slightly and assumes Paige must be sitting up now. “If I gotta.”

Azzi takes that as agreement and blindly feels her way to her closet, searching for the closest T-shirt she can find and pulling it off the hanger. She tosses it behind her in the direction of the bed.

“Okay, Imma get ready too then, I guess,” Paige is saying, the sound of her footsteps becoming more distant as she exits the room.

Azzi expels all the air out of her lungs, finally allowing herself to open her eyes. With shaky legs she makes her way to the bed, tucking herself under the covers. She takes a few more steadying breaths.

Pull it together, Fudd.

Paige is back sooner than Azzi is ready for her to be, but she stops a few feet into the room and gestures at her shirt. “This funny to you or somethin’?”

Azzi takes a moment to actually look at the shirt she unknowingly picked out for Paige and barks out a laugh, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

The shirt has "St. John’s – State Champs" written across the chest in bold letters, her old high school’s logo below it.

“Okay, I promise I didn’t mean to pick that one,” Azzi swears, unable to contain her laughter.

“I’on believe you,” Paige grunts, sliding into the empty side of the bed. “You know I’d get beat up if anyone saw me wearin’ this, right?”

“Good thing it’s just me then, huh?”

“Guess so,” Paige grumbles, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

“Don’t worry,” Azzi says, smirking. “Your secret is safe with me, Cadet.”

Paige glares at her before rolling over and turning her back to Azzi. “I’m actually done talkin’ to you. Night.”

Azzi turns her bedside lamp off, encasing the room in darkness, save for a few bands of a dim streetlight poking through her blinds. “Night,” she echoes, settling to lay on her back.

She wills herself to sleep then, waiting for the exhaustion she’s been feeling for the past few hours to finally take over.

It doesn’t come.

It shouldn’t be this difficult.

But Azzi’s mind is racing, all thoughts on her former best friend stretched out beside her. Paige, lying in her childhood bed, clad in one of Azzi’s old basketball T-shirts and a pair of boxers, the warmth radiating from her enough to scorch Azzi’s skin even from half a foot away.

“Hey, P?” Azzi whispers, her gaze still glued to the ceiling.

She sees movement in her periphery, Paige angling her head back slightly in her direction. “Hm?”

Azzi swallows hard, attempting to dislodge the lump forming in her throat.

There’s been one question turning itself over and over in her mind all day. A thought that wouldn’t leave her head no matter how hard she tried to shake it out.

God, this is such a bad idea.

“Did you have a New Year’s kiss this year?” she hears herself ask.

Everything is silent then, and Azzi can’t think of many other times in her life where she’s felt as vulnerable as she does now.

The quietness stretches on for an agonizingly long amount of time. It lasts for so long, in fact, that part of Azzi begins to wonder if Paige might have fallen asleep.

“Nah,” Paige mumbles, breaking the silence. She turns fully back onto her side to face Azzi, resting her hands together underneath her head. Azzi feels her heavy stare piercing through the darkness and shivers. “You?”

Azzi shakes her head, sighs, “Me neither.”

She moves to face Paige, mirroring her position, her heartbeat thumping wildly in her ears.

Azzi wets her lips, locks her eyes onto Paige’s.

Fuck it.

“Did you want to have one?” she breathes out.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting. Maybe for Paige to shove her playfully or smile at her or something like that.

But Paige brings her bottom lip into her mouth, waits a beat, then nods her head.

Oh.

She wants this, too.

Azzi isn’t sure which of them is leaning in, but suddenly Paige’s face is just inches from her own, her breath warm against Azzi’s lips.

“Are you sure?” Paige whispers.

Am I sure I want this?

Absolutely.

Am I sure we should be doing this?

Well...

Despite her doubts, Azzi swallows and nods her head.

Paige is the one to close the gap between them, hesitant, at first, and gentle, just the soft press of her lips against Azzi’s own. A tentative reunion, two aching souls finally coming back home to each other.

And then the kiss turns needy, hungry, and Paige is bringing a hand up to cup her face, sliding the other down to Azzi’s waist. Azzi does the same, tugs slightly to bring Paige to hover slightly over her. Paige is kissing her hard now, pressing her into the bed, exhaling heavily, making Azzi’s heart flutter uncontrollably.

Azzi makes a decision then, pulls back just slightly and uses her tongue to part Paige’s lips, shivering when she feels Paige sigh against her mouth. The action seems to spur Paige on further because she’s shifting again, slipping her leg in between Azzi’s, applying just a hint of pressure, building up a low heat there.

Paige is relentless, kissing her with such fervor that it makes her head spin. Azzi feels a thumb dip below the waistband of her pants, caressing against her hip, and for some reason that snaps Azzi out of the dizzy haze she's found herself trapped in.

Azzi breaks the kiss, lightheaded, because if she doesn't do it now she thinks they might never stop.

Paige rests their foreheads together for a moment. She leans back, shifts her body off Azzi’s, her pupils blown out and her chest heaving.

“There,” Azzi hears herself say, breath uneven. “Happy New Year.” Then she rolls away from Paige, heartbeat still erratic in her ears, shaking hands pulling the covers back over herself.

She feels the bed shift a minute later as Paige wordlessly turns away from her.

Azzi brings her fingers up to touch her mouth, the sensation still lingering there.

It’s hours before sleep finally finds her.

*****

Azzi wakes to the afternoon sunlight hitting her square in the face, and she pulls a pillow over her head to block it out. Groaning, she blindly sticks an arm out beside her, feeling for a warm body next to her to shake awake.

Her hand comes up empty.

She shoots up in her bed, panic swarming her as she scans across the empty room. Her chest tightens, her throat constricts.

Fuck, she’s gone.

Tears are just starting to prick at the corner of her eyes when the sound of boisterous laughter bounces off the walls of the hallway.

Curious, Azzi follows the sound, finding its source relatively quickly.

The sight is strange enough to raise Azzi’s eyebrows—her dad and Paige, seated on opposite sides of the dining table, laughing over empty breakfast plates.

Paige notices her first, nodding her chin towards her in acknowledgement. “Hey, Az.” She pats the chair next to her. “Sit.”

Azzi doesn’t move, eyes moving skeptically between her dad and Paige. “Hi. What are you guys talking about?”

“Oh, it’s nothin’,” her dad says, but the snickering between the two of them afterwards is saying something completely different.

“This.” Azzi points a finger back and forth between the two of them. “This I don’t like.”

“C’mon, we’re just messin’,” Paige assures, still grinning devilishly.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Azzi responds sarcastically, opening the fridge door and sticking her head in it, searching for something to settle her rumbling stomach. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Packing, I guess?” Paige replies.

Azzi picks her head up at that and closes the fridge. “Huh, why?”

“Got a flight to Connecticut in the mornin',” Paige shrugs, and Azzi’s heart drops to her stomach.

“You do?” she asks, failing to keep the sadness from creeping into her voice.

Paige looks apologetic, casting her eyes downward. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Forgot to mention it. Speakin’ of, I should head on out soon.” She stands, putting her dishes in the sink before clapping Azzi’s dad on the back. “Good to see you as always, Tim.”

He smiles up at her fondly. “You too, Paige.”

“Imma grab my stuff,” Paige says, brushing past Azzi into the living room. Azzi moves on autopilot, trailing behind her.

It takes Paige all of three seconds to get ready, having only really come here with her phone and the clothes she wore yesterday, which she must have changed back into at some point. Azzi watches her pull her sneakers on, shrug into her jacket.

“Guess this it then,” Paige starts, eyes looking anywhere but at Azzi.

Azzi wrings her hands together, trying to figure out where to go from here. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll see you around then, P.”

Azzi is going to leave it at that, moving her arms to give Paige a quick hug, but then Paige is grabbing her arm and pulling her in closer, lowering her voice. “Don't we need to talk 'bout somethin'?”

“Last time you said that you broke up with me.” Azzi pries Paige’s fingers off her arm.

Paige bristles at that, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously. “Okay, but still. We need to talk.”

“About?” Azzi asks, even though she already knows where this conversation is going. She looks at Paige expectantly.

“We kissed, Azzi. You don’t think we should talk ‘bout that?” There’s a crease between her eyebrows. “I mean, like, what does it mean, you know?”

There are two ways Azzi can play this. She can be honest, tell Paige that she lost hours of sleep over it, that it’s the only thing she’s thought about since she woke up, that it shifted her world off its axis. Can tell her that all those feelings she tried to push down have risen rapidly back to the surface, demanding all of her attention. Can lay it all out in front of them, knowing it could be months before the next time they see each other again.

And then there’s a second option.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Azzi is saying, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

Maybe it's time for the ball to be in Paige's court now.

Paige shakes her head exaggeratedly, her face screwed up in utter confusion. “It doesn’t?”

“Not unless we want it to,” Azzi continues, making her expression as unreadable as possible.

“Well, do you?”

Azzi hums noncommittally, looking down at her nails. “Probably easier if we just forget about it, right? I mean, it was only one kiss.”

There’s conflict painted clear across Paige’s face, her mouth opening and closing several times like she can’t quite figure out how she’s supposed to respond to that. She bites her lip hard, so hard that Azzi is a little concerned that she’s about to draw blood.

“I—I, uh,” she stutters, and Azzi can’t remember the last time she saw her look this flustered. “No, yeah. For sure. Just a kiss.” She nods her head once, like she’s trying to convince herself.

“Good, I’m glad we agree,” Azzi replies, even if she doesn’t really mean it.

Paige scratches at the back of her neck again, clearly not anticipating the conversation to go like this. “Yeah. So...maybe I’ll see you in March or somethin’?” She offers a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

Azzi shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

*****

She doesn’t.

[wasty28]

Wwx's interview after the incident:

Tape No1:

On the film, a woman is buying ice cream to a 6 years old boy, presumably her son.

They're laughing and talking to a man off screen when suddenly an explosion occurs in the background.

People are stunned and voices arise as smoke starts coming from a far away building.

The video shakes and cut abruptly.

Tape No2:

A crowd is gathered in front of the prestigious Laboratory of Science and Discovery.

Sirens blow from the stationed ambulance and you can see two police cars as a man is currently being arrested and pushed roughly towards one of them.

The party of two police men and the young man is backed by a furious looking old men and another in a white blouse!

As the video goes we can hear them talking:

The arrested man: *laugh* You're arresting me for real? What did I do?

The man in blouse: Unethical behavior. Endangering the life of people. Practice of interdicted-

The arrested man: Interdicted? HA! I know you people do worse than that! No I mean it wasn't that bad and I warned them okay! I had the situation under control!

The old man: YOU CALL THAT UNDER CONTROL?

The arrested man: Yes! Hey! Come on you can't arrest me just because of that? What about the show ? Who's gonna get you so many viewers just with his charming smile?

The old man: YOU'RE DISQUALIFIED !

The arrested man: What-

The man in blouse: NOT ONLY THAT YOU MENACE! I'll PERSONALLY GET YOU FORBIDDEN TO EVER APPROACH ANYTHING SCIENCE RELATED!

The arrested man:The path to a great discovery is always dangerous and tenuous. Won't you reconsider? We weren't exactly finished our experimentations. If you could give just it a little -

The rest of the speech is cut as the young man enter the police car! (pushed in actually)

-

The screen turns black as the video ended.

"So, in light of your recent disqualification of the TV show, these videos are now on every social platform and are the reason of many speculations. Apparently, your recent team consisting of yourself and the two other figurants has taken part in illegal practices and unhinged experimentations outside of the frame authorized! Your experiments are said, and I cite `to have brought unseen and immensely dangerous aspects of each of your specialized fields into existence.` You also have been accused of terrorism and putting the security of the country as a whole in a dire situation. And you deny the implications of this accusation?"

"Absolutely your honor!"

"We're on air Mr Wei, not in a court"

"hahaha, I'm aware! For my defense nothing in the rules ever said anything against experimenting with resentful energy."

"Nobody was aware it was possible-"

"It's not an excuse for not mentioning it. The facts are the facts. I am an innocent man"

"...Your team members have also been temporarily incarcerated for almost the same accusations. It's the first time in history, such a thing happens during the renowned International Salon of Discovery and Science. At this grand occasion, the dirigeants decided to air a contest, in the likes of survival contests, to "reach more people, incite interest in the field of STEMS and provide a refreshing and interesting occasion for the participants to grow and innove more than ever before". Your team consisted of Dr Wen Qing, the young prodigy Xue Yang and yourself, a known engineer. Could you please explain to the public, what really happened?"

"Oh, things like that happen plenty of times, the public is just unaware of what's going behid tge cameras"

The fandom doesn't respect Wen Qing's Mad Scientist Vibes enough

If you locked Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian, and Xue Yang in a room together and told them to invent something you'd get at least 20 abominations that spit in the face of god before you've even finished locking the door

Respect her Mad Scientist vibes

[mysunshinetemptress]

Smarter

Smarter insight 1 insight 2

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: Cheating, talks of IVF, definitely could have been better so might edit it later but here we go

You’re crying again, you didn’t think you could cry anymore but the tears running down your puffy red cheeks say otherwise.

It’s heartbreaking the sight of you curled up on your bed, wrapped around Leah who hasn’t cried since coming home from the check up.

It’s another fail in your IVF journey, you’ve failed again, you have failed Leah again but still she’s here comforting you.

She lays there with you wrapped around her until she thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep and then she tries to slip out, away from you, from your constant tears that she can’t take anymore m, she needs to get out and the best thing she can think to do is to go for a run.

Only you stir “Le, where-where are you going.” Leah freezes the floorboards creeking slightly “I-i just I need to go clear my head it’s-I just need to go for a run.” You want to ask her to come back to bed to stay with you, to tell her you will get through this together, that it’s better if you do but that’s selfish and you have been so, so selfish recently. “Ok.” You say quietly and with that small nod of approval from you Leah’s gone.

Leah doesn’t know how long she’s been running for when she first spots HER and for the first time all day her mind is void of you. SHES gorgeous, absolutely stunning and she’s running right towards her.

Leah doesn’t know what comes over her as she does a u turn to chase after the gorgeous girl that’s just smiled her but she finds herself running beside her, her eyes flicking between her and the path before SHE stops.

“Hi.” Leah stops her hands on her hips sucking in air “I’m sorry I just-I saw you and I thought wow and, and.” SHE laughs and before Leah knows it’s they are sat in the park cafe chatting and laughing, Leah doesn’t know what time it is and frankly she doesn’t care this is the first time in weeks she’s laughed and not had to deal with a crying wife.

Everything is so nice and easy until SHE questions why Leah was running g so fast. “I-I’m going through something, my-my wife and I are going through something.” SHE reaches over grabbing Leah’s hand stroking it softly “it’s ok I’m sure it will workout.” Leah shakes her head “I-I don’t know if it will, my wife she-she’s in the middle of IVF and it’s not working-it never seems to work.” SHE softens “That’s not your fault, you can’t do anything about it.” Leah shakes her head “But am I not an asshole for just leaving her-I mean she’s at home crying and I-I’m here.”

SHE shakes her head “You need comfort too, she’s actually being selfish not comforting you as well, I mean it’s hard for you too.”

The conversation continues and SHE continues to “comfort” Leah telling her it’s going to be ok, their hands don’t part even after the Cafe owner throws them out.

“My house is just across the street.” It’s all Leah needs to hear before she’s sitting at the kitchen another tea in hand as SHE flits around content on cooking.

Leah doesn’t know how or when it happened maybe after SHE brought a spoon to her lips begging her to try the sauce but suddenly they are kissing, and then suddenly Leah is pushing HER through the bedroom door.

Leah knows this is wrong as she strips, as she twists off her wedding band and throws it towards her cloths but SHE’S gorgeous, the voice the tiny small voice screams in the back of her mind as they push forward, it scream about you, how you are still there, still at home crying, but SHE’S not SHE’S not crying not seeking comfort and draining Leah’s every emotion, no SHE’S soft and her lips are plump and her breast are perfect and SHE’S not crying and begging to be held, SHE’S not begging to be told it’s going to be ok as another round of IVF fails.

SHE’S gorgeous and she’s all Leah can think about on the drive home, right until the moment she walks through the door and your body crashes into hers, as you wrap yourself around her whispering into her chest how much you missed her.

It should never of happened but it did, it should be a one time mistake but it wasn’t, she should never have left you but she did and now she’s lost you.

[moody-alcoholic]

Break in

John Price x reader. WC: 1.9k. CW: break in, canon typical violence.

_____

You hate the winter, it gets dark too quickly. The temperature drops and you hate the cold. The worst thing about winter though is how much it makes you miss your husband. Everyone at work talks about getting ready to spend time with their families, or family and friends coming to visit them. You don’t even know if you’ll see John over the Christmas period. 

Last year he left on boxing day, the year before that he was gone for over a week until the 2nd of January. He missed Christmas and new years. You thought you would be used to it by now, him being away but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. At least this time he’s in London, he’s on a base most of the time. He keeps telling you if he’s lucky he’ll be there until way after the new year. 

That means he comes home at the end of each day, you get to spend time with him and do things you’ve not been able to do in previous years like go shopping for christmas gifts. It doesn’t matter though, it shouldn’t matter, it’s just one day of the year. You could just do a delayed christmas again, it never feels the same though. 

You hitch your bag over your shoulder as you walk through the gate to your townhouse. It’s way later than you would normally get home but the house is still dark so clearly John isn’t back yet either. You’re carrying shopping bags in each hand putting one down so you can fish in your pocket for the house key. You close the gate behind you and make it up to the front door. 

Your body freezes as you reach out for the lock. Your breathing stops, eyes going wide. Goosebumps rise over your skin. 

The door has been kicked in, you can see the damage on the wood where they’ve used a tool to pry it open. 

The shopping bag you’ve got round your wrist is pulling your hand down. You don’t know what to do, you should call the police. No, you should call John, maybe he broke in, forgot his keys? But then why didn’t he call you. There’s a pretty sophisticated security system John installed when you first bought the place. You would have got a security notification if it was activated. 

You drop the bags on the floor backing up down the steps and reaching into your pocket for your phone. Your hands shake as you walk back down the path until you hit the gate. It takes you two attempts to click John's name before you finally bring the phone up to your ear. He won’t pick up the first time, you let it ring out for a few seconds then call him right back. Then he’ll know it’s important. 

“Hey, love. Give me a second.” He says before there’s silence on the like, it feels like the silence is lasting minutes not seconds. You feel a lump rising in your throat, a breath hitches in your throat. You feel silent tears run down your face as you look into the house windows for movement.

“Sorry love. I know I’m late-”

“John, there's someone in the house.” You say before he can finish his sentence. You don’t have time, your heart picks up in your chest. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, the tone of his voice is darker.

“I came home and the door was kicked in.” This time your words come out with a sob. You feel sick.

“Okay, I'm on my way.” You hear shuffling, the sound of keys. You don’t know what to do, panic rises in you.

“Should I call the police?” You ask. 

“No. I’m coming okay, 10 minutes, I'll be there I promise.” You hear him snap his fingers. “Don’t go in the house okay. Stay outside.” You hear a car door close, then another.

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’ll be there soon.” He says then hangs up. You’re still looking in the house for movement, you don’t see anything, the rooms dark. You shiver as a cold breeze moves in, it could snow soon, you don’t want to be outside when it snows. 

…

John turns the normally 15 minute drive into less than ten, even down the congested London roads he breaks several traffic laws to get home. He’ll deal with the fines later, but the last thing he needs is to get pulled over now. 

“What if-” “Don’t even fucking say it.” He snaps at Ghost sitting next to him. His hands grip the steering wheel as he turns down the street towards his house. The place is quiet, it’s almost 9pm. He parks up pulling in so fast he almost hits another car. He can see you, stood on the pavement outside the house, your face red with tears, your arms wrapped around your chest.

They both Jump out of the car and John makes a bee line towards you. His hands come up to cup your face. 

“You’re okay, go wait in the car.” he says brushing your tears away with his thumbs. You nod letting out another sob, he watches as you head over to the car getting in the back.

“Take the top floor, I’ll sweep the ground.” He says to Ghost as he walks through the gate towards the house. John takes the lead removing the sidearm from its holster bringing it into his hands. He toes open the door, the house is dark, there’s no sound, they could be gone already. 

Ghost is silent on his feet moving up the stairs as John continues down the corridor to the kitchen. He brings the weapon up to his eyeline as he adjusts to the darkness. They have an advantage here, they know the layout of the house better than the intruders, hopefully.  

Ghost finds the first guy on the top floor. He’ll be working his way down now. As soon as John is done he will work his way up. The back door was still locked but it could have been locked from the inside without a key. There’s no mess, the place hasn’t been ransacked. They weren't looking for valuables.

The ground floor is clear as John works his way up to the first floor. He heads straight for his home office, maybe they were looking for a different type of valuable. 

John finds the second guy in the spare bedroom. Tying him up and throwing him in a closet with tape over his mouth. No need to shed blood in his home, besides gives him something to do tonight other than paperwork.

He meets up with Ghost outside his office pushing the door open together. The window is wide open with the whole place being ransacked. Ghost walks into the room, looking down out the window. John sighs, they’ve missed one and he has no idea what they could have been looking for. Ghost turns to look at him, putting his pistol away. John already knows what he wants to say.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He sighs putting his own pistol away

…

You’re sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in your hands. John said the place was clear that they didn’t find anyone. Maybe they got spooked when you came home, heard you and ran. That's what you tell yourself to calm your nerves. John walks into the room, he comes over to the sofa and sits down next to you. 

His arm goes round your back and you lean into him. 

“You did great.” He says rubbing your thigh with his other hand. You don’t know what to say. Someone broke into your house, even with all the security measures John put in place someone got past them and invaded your home. 

You’re not even thirsty but you bring the hot tea up to your lips anyway taking a sip letting it burn your throat. 

“What if you weren’t here?” You say, your voice is quiet, your head dipped down as more tears come. The panic and adrenaline gone your mind is filled with what ifs. 

“Don’t worry about that, I have things in place.” His hand comes up to your chin pulling your face up to look at him as you put the tea back in your lap. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

You don’t believe him, it’s going to be a while before you’re going to feel safe in your own home. Even though whoever was here was gone before John got home, they were still here. It could have been so much worse. 

You lean forward putting the cup of tea on the coffee table, it just tastes bitter anyway. His hand rubs your back almost like he’s trying to rub the tension out your muscles. You close your eyes his arms wrap around you as he leans back into the sofa. 

“You’re safe I promise. I would never ever let anything happen to you.” He kisses the top of your head. You let out a long breath, that you believe but it’s not always that simple.

“Will you stay? Please don’t leave, at least not for tonight.” 

“I will, I’m going to be here with you.”  You turn in his arms to look up at him, his deep blue eyes blinking down at you. He leans down pressing his lips to yours. You let yourself sink into the fermilia kiss, his tongue brushing yours as his hands run up and down your body. This is where you feel safe, in his arms, with his touch. 

The knock on the door pulls you out of the kiss, he turns to look. 

“Let me go chat with him then we’ll go to bed okay?” He says his thumb coming to brush the tears escaping your eyes. You nod sitting back up straight.

He’s not gone for long, coming back in and offering you his hand. You take it and he guides you up to bed, his hands don’t leave you, running up and down your body as you make it to the room. He helps you change, pressing kisses round your neck and shoulders, his fingers brushing hair out your eyes and tears when they fall. 

Eventually you crawl into bed together, he rolls over to turn his bedside light off, the only light left on in the room. 

“Leave it on.” You say, you’re not sure why, you just don’t want to be in the dark.

“Okay, whatever you need love.” He says pulling your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing in your ears.

“I will always be here. Even when it feels like I’m hundreds of miles away I will always be here for you.” He says as he kisses your cheek. You smile at his words, even if you’re doubtful, it’s what you need to hear. 

“I love you.” You say as he squeezes you tighter.

“I love you too. You’re safe, you always will be, I promise.” His hand moves down to your waist pulling you against him further. “Get some sleep, I'll be here with you. I’m not leaving your side.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise, I’ll protect you, forever. You’re safe, just get some rest.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. You try to stay awake, fighting the sleepiness that comes over you as he runs his hands over you. You can feel his heartbeat, his warm breath in your ear. 

At least you’re not outside in the cold, you’re warm and safe in his arms. Strangers broke into your home but you know it won’t happen again because John won’t let it happen again. 

____ It was supposed to be short but I don't know when to stop.

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓼?

you’re nursing a beer, your legs pulled up to sit cross-legged as you lean back on your palms. dean’s beside you, his own bottle dangling loosely in his fingers. his knee rests against yours, this simple, casual point of connection, but it’s enough to ground you. his shoulders are relaxed, his legs stretched out long, but there’s something... off. you can feel it in the way his gaze keeps drifting, how he’s not quite looking at you or anything in particular. he’s lost in his own head, and you’ve been with him long enough to know that’s rarely a good thing.

“you’ve been quiet tonight,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice is soft, not accusing, but the words seem to snap him out of whatever spiral he was falling into. he glances at you, his green eyes flickering in the dim light, and he huffs out a little laugh. it’s small, almost self-deprecating, and he looks away again, his jaw tightening.

“just thinkin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, taking a swig of his beer.

you tilt your head, watching him. “about what?”

he hesitates, running his free hand through his hair, and the gesture makes your stomach tighten. whatever it is, it’s big. he’s not usually this careful about his words—dean winchester isn’t careful about much, period—but right now, he looks like a man standing on the edge of something.

“can i ask you somethin’?” he says, finally, and his voice is quieter now, more raw.

“of course,” you reply immediately, setting your beer aside. you shift closer, your knee pressing more firmly against his, your hand resting on the cool metal of the car between you. “what’s on your mind?”

he exhales slowly, staring down at the bottle in his hands. for a second, you think he’s not going to say anything. then, all at once, the words come out.

“you ever think about havin’ kids?”

the question hits you like a punch to the gut—not because it’s unwelcome, but because it’s so unexpected. you blink at him, your lips parting, and he finally looks at you, his expression guarded. like he’s bracing for you to laugh at him, or worse, to shut him down completely.

“kids?” you repeat, just to make sure you heard him right.

“yeah,” he says, his voice gruff, like the word’s hard for him to get out. “like... not right now, obviously, but... someday. you ever think about it?”

your mouth opens, then closes. you glance at him, searching his face for any clues about where this is coming from. it’s not like dean’s ever been the white-picket-fence type. hell, you’re not even sure if you’re the white-picket-fence type, given the life you lead. but there’s something in his eyes, something vulnerable and almost... hopeful, that makes your chest ache.

“i don’t know,” you say honestly. “i guess i haven’t thought about it much, with everything going on. it’s not exactly easy to picture that kind of future, you know?”

he nods, like he was expecting that answer, but there’s still this shadow of disappointment in his expression. “yeah. yeah, i get that,” he mutters, tipping back his beer for another sip.

you watch him for a moment, your mind racing. he doesn’t bring up stuff like this lightly—hell, he barely even talks about his feelings unless you pry them out of him. but this? this is something he’s been holding onto, turning over in his mind, and now he’s laid it at your feet like some kind of fragile offering.

“why are you asking?” you ask gently, leaning closer. “is this something you’ve been thinking about?”

he lets out a low laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “yeah,” he admits, running a hand down his face. “i don’t know, it’s stupid. just... sometimes i think about what it’d be like. teachin’ a kid how to throw a football. takin’ ‘em for a drive in baby when they’re old enough. tryin’ to be the kind of dad mine never was.”

the confession is raw, almost painful, and you feel it settle heavy in your chest. dean’s voice drops lower, like he’s afraid of saying it out loud. “i mean, i know it’s a pipe dream, with the way we live. but... if it ever happened, you know? with you... i think i’d want that.”

his words hang in the air between you, and your heart stutters. with you. the way he says it, so quiet, so certain, makes something twist inside you. you reach out, your fingers brushing his arm. he looks up at you, his expression cautious, like he’s waiting for you to tell him he’s crazy.

“dean,” you say softly, “you’d be an incredible dad.”

he snorts, shaking his head, but you tighten your grip on his arm, making him look at you. “i mean it,” you insist. “you’re already so good with sam, and jack... hell, you take care of everyone around you, whether you realize it or not. you’ve got more love in you than you give yourself credit for.”

his jaw clenches, and he looks away, but not before you catch the flicker of emotion in his eyes. “you really think that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“i know it,” you say firmly, leaning in closer. “and if that’s something you want... someday... then yeah. i think i’d want that too. with you.”

his head snaps toward you, his eyes wide, and for a second, he just stares at you. then, without warning, he leans in, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as his lips crash against yours.

the kiss is desperate, messy, like he’s been holding himself back for too long and finally let the dam break. his fingers thread through your hair, holding you close as his mouth moves against yours, hot and demanding. you gasp into him, your hands grabbing at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like you need air.

his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open for him, letting him in. he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and it’s like a switch flips. suddenly, you’re climbing into his lap, straddling him as his hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. the heat of him, the way his stubble scrapes against your skin, the sheer wantpouring off of him—it’s overwhelming in the best way.

he breaks away for a second, his forehead pressing against yours as you both catch your breath. his hands are still on your hips, holding you there like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “you have no idea how much i love you,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine.

“i think i have a pretty good idea,” you tease, your lips brushing against his as you speak. he laughs softly, the sound muffled as he kisses you again, slower this time, but just as consuming.

the future might be uncertain, but right now, with dean’s arms wrapped around you, his lips on yours, you think maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something worth holding onto.

[bonbonly]

Retired scriptwriter!Nico would definitely always give the reader a script for a movie as a favor…unless he finds out that movie was being produced by Lewis…then you’re in trouble.

i lowkeyyy had way too much fun writing this

bon's thoughts (18+)

"mr. rosberggggg" you cry out in a sing-song voice, twirling your hair. you stomp your foot a couple times on his front porch, before harshly kicking at his door. with a huff, you bunch up the ends of your dress, adjusting your fur coat as you move to the side of the house. as expected, the window's open and you sigh, crawling in like a rat scouring for food.

nico exits his bathroom, a towel around his shoulders as he dries his hair and at the sight of you seated so haughtily on his couch, he groans out loud and rolls his eyes, "ms. (l/n), this does count as breaking into my house, you are aware of that right?"

"doesn't matter, mr. rosberg! i've come to ask about the script you were working on? remember, i said i can bring you back to the oscars!" you gaze over at the shelf right above his TV, all his awards on display. a hint of cobwebs was present, and you clear your throat to bring his attention back onto you, "mr. rosberg, i trust you have it finished, correct?"

he lets out a low chuckle, rubbing his jaw as he walks over to the dining table where all his papers lay askew. he shifts through some, crinkling the edges as he tosses them around and brings back a large binder, "for you, ms. (l/n). hopefully, this'll put you in contention for the oscars this year... and maybe if it's successful i'll come back to the industry again, does that sound-"

but his words mean nothing to you once you grab hold of the script, you're flipping through with vigor, excitement bubbling inside you as you squeal out loud, "oh, lewis will never refuse me with this!"

nico's lips form into a thin line, his hand still in the air from when he was gesturing his words and he tilts his head, "i... i beg your pardon? l-lewis? what does he have to do with this?"

"oh my dear, mr. rosberg!" you coo, pinching his cheek which makes him snap his neck away from you in disgust, his eyes hooded with rage at the way you're babying him, "producer lewis told me that if i had a good script, he'll let me sign onto his production house! of course, i'll have to work with legalities to get out of carlos' contract but i can handle it! now you being the sweet gem you are have just given me the opportunity to finally impress him!"

nico's jaw goes taut at your words, and he yanks the binder from your hands and tosses it to the wall, thereby knocking over one of his oscars. you shriek as it crashes onto the ground, crumbling into a million pieces. your worries about the material award is put on hold when he digs his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back to get a clear look of him, "how fucking dare you...gör," he emphasizes the last word with a harsh shake of your head, which causes you to yelp in surprise. your eyes go wide, staring at him with that oblivious look you always gave him when you crossed a line.

"w-what'd i do wrong?" you ask, and he laughs right at your face, his hand traveling down to grab your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks,

"too many things you've done wrong. and i've been quiet about all of them, but this? going to the man that nearly ruined my career? with my script? that i generously spent weeks working on for you?" he tosses you onto his couch, his knee pushing your legs apart for him to settle between them, "just the nerve, the fucking audacity of you to come here begging like a cheap whore for me to write you a script, and i do it every time because i keep thinking you're a star, and then you remind me time and time again that whores like you will never learn!"

he hikes your dress up, noticing your thin lace underwear and he glares at you, "im not surprised, just disappointed really," and he hooks a finger into the waistband and pulls it back, letting the fabric slap onto your mound with a firm snap! that has you whimpering. "no, no noises from you, you keep your mouth shut. i don't want to hear any of your bullshit."

he grabs your panties and slides them down your legs, all the time berating you as he stuffs the underwear into your mouth. the fur coat slips down from your shoulders and he rips your dress off, using the fabric to tie your hands behind your back as he flips you onto your stomach.

"every fucking time... when will I ever learn?" he mutters, trailing his finger down your back, "this is how you get roles right? how you get awards? your cunt's just too good to pass up on, that's why they keep making you win hoping you'll spread your legs again next year, hm?"

his touch is torturous, his movements slow and it's hours before he finally slides his cock into your weeping pussy, finally giving you the pleasure you were craving for. he ignores your strangled moans as he buries himself to the hilt, sliding out until his tip kisses your folds before slamming right back into you. a few more harsh thrusts that sends you to heaven before he grabs a hold of your hips and sets a relentless pace. he leans down to pin his weight on top of you, loving the way your moans flood his empty house. he snakes his hand around to circle your clit, your moans now screams that momentarily distract nico from the fact that lewis was calling you. you pathetically try to wriggle away but nico holds you down, letting his cock root into the gummy walls of your creamy cunt and he grabs the phone,

"had an appointment didn't you? you were gonna tell him about my script?" he scoffs. he smacks your ass hard, and you jolt forwards as your face burrows into your coat, tears streaming down from your face, "should let him know you won't make it right?"

nico answers the call, tossing it right in front of your face and he finally yanks the panties from your mouth, yanking your head back as his fingers find your hair. he picks up your pace, "i want to hear you scream, slut, be as loud as you can be."

that's more than enough for you to be babbling, sobbing and screaming at how good you feel, how you'll never make a mistake like this again! "mr. rosberg, oh rosberg!" you punctuate with each moan, and nico laughs behind you. there's silence from lewis's side, exactly what nico wanted. his thrusts become erratic, and when he's close to cumming, he pulls you up flush against his chest as he rubs your clit hard, determined to make you milk his cock. your guttural scream floods lewis's ears through the phone, combined with nico laughing out loud at the mess you've made,

"you slut! look at you!" he chuckles, "i have to get my couch cleaned now! there's some on the table... be a good little girl and lick it off for me, hm?" he lets you go, untying your wrists and kissing your forehead gently before grabbing the phone right above your head.

"you stay away from her, hamilton," nico growls into the phone, "i better not see that contract signed by her." and then he hangs up, tossing the phone back onto the couch before heading back to his pile of scripts waiting for him at the dining table.

[puckinghischier]

What do you think Quinn would do for a grand gesture when he was missing his girl?

seeing as he’s a sentimental sort, considering the gift he gave luke, i know he’d do something so over the top in the best way.

he’d already have bought you every long distance gadget in existence. the bracelets that vibrate when you touch them to let the other person know you’re thinking of them. the smart fridge he can leave notes from his phone on for you to wake up to in the morning. the lamp that glows a certain color when the other person misses you. the iphone widget he can draw pictures of flowers on before the real thing is delivered to your door.

he’d make sure he had every opportunity to make sure you knew he was thinking about you, even when he’s busy and on the road. sometimes a message or a vibration from a bracelet is all he had time for, but it was enough for you.

for him? nothing could ever replace being in your presence. he needed to see you, touch you, hear your voice. this past season had been rough. being away from you for so long, he was miserable. he found himself being distracted by thoughts of when he could get back home to you during practice or while warming up for a game. he was rushing post game media so he could call you before you fell asleep. he was skipping team bonding to facetime you and catch up on your day.

so, he started putting a plan into motion. he hoped it wouldn’t scare you off or freak you out, but he was too deep into it now to back out.

you had noticed he’d been spending a lot of time on the phone with his agent lately, assuming it was some negotiation for a brand or sponsorship. you knew it couldn’t have anything to do with his spot on the canucks, both the team and quinn loving the other too much to part ways.

but he started acting weird. he started being jumpy when you’d ask him about his conversations with his agent, curious as to what’s taking up so much of his time lately.

“just contract stuff. you know, i have to renew it soon and there’s all kinds of stuff that goes into that. brad’s just trying to get me the best bang for my buck,” he’d nervously chuckle, changing the subject quickly.

you were cleaning up the kitchen one day after making lunch, quinn having had to go to the rink for some kind of business meeting, he told you. you hear the door open and his keys fall into the bowl on the dining room table, a soft call of your name ringing through the space.

he walks into the kitchen to find you finishing up the last few dishes, making small talk until you’re finished and join him over at the end of the long island.

“whatcha got there, q?” you question curiously, noticing how he hasn’t let go of the paper once since walking through the door.

“oh, this? well, we need to talk about it, actually.” his nervous tone makes you nervous, worried about what’s on the piece of official looking paper.

“okay…” you trail off, not enjoying the nervous energy engulfing the room.

he clears his throat, running his fingers along the edges of the paper repeatedly, forcing himself to keep looking you in the eyes.

“so, you know how i bought you all those things to let you know i’m thinking of you when i’m not on the road? the bracelet, the lamp, the new fridge, the flowers and notes?” he lists off all the heartfelt things he’s given you over the course of your relationship, a smile taking over your face as you nod at him.

the smile on your face gives him a bit more confidence, more sure of his decision than he was just a few moments ago.

“okay, well, i can’t do that anymore. those bracelets? the lamp? the messages on the fridge? they’re not enough. they’re not cutting it anymore.”

your heart sinks. what does he mean it’s not enough? if it’s enough for you, why isn’t it enough for him? he’s the one that’s gone all the time. you’re the one who has to stay here and wait for him to come back. is this paper a new lease? is he kicking you out? breaking up with you?

you take a step back from him, your head filling with all kinds of negative thoughts as to what’s on that paper in his hand.

“quinn, i-i don’t understand. what do you mean-“

“please, just let me finish. i need to get this out and then you can ask me all the questions you want. and yell at me, if you feel the need,” he interrupts you, putting a hand up in between the two of you.

your mouth snaps shut, tears threatening to spill any second.

“like i said, the superficial stuff just isn’t enough anymore. if i can’t have you with me all the time, i don’t know if i can keep doing this. all of this. it’s killing me. i know it’s my fault i’m gone, but my god i miss you so much it hurts me,” he continues his speech, not picking up on the shake in your hands.

“quinn, you don’t have to do this. we can…figure something else out. i miss you too when you’re gone. so much,” your shaky voice tries to reason with him, not wanting to hear him say the words out loud.

he holds a hand up to silence you, effectively stopping your words.

“my mind’s already made up. already signed my name and everything, even if brad did think i was crazy,” quinn keeps going, confusing you even more.

what did his agent have to do with him breaking up with you and kicking you off of the lease you just signed together?

you don’t have time to ask him, because he lays the paper in front of you, sliding it towards you. “here, just read it for yourself.”

you pick up the thick paper, noting the canucks emblem stamped into the top of the document, your eyes falling to the long paragraphs taking up the majority of the page.

there’s one section that’s highlighted, marked to stand out specifically for your eyes.

“the canucks organization, in agreement with quintin j. hughes, hereby provides transportation, accommodations, and admission to 10 (ten) away games of his choice during regular season hockey, and every meeting of post-season playoffs if necessary, to one person of his choice, contingent of his reporting to canucks sponsored activities such as: games, practice, training camps….”

it takes your brain a few moments to catch up to what you’re reading.

he…rewrote his contract for you. he, somehow, convinced an entire organization to write into his contract a clause to be able to take you with him to games during the season. you look up at him, his nervous stare meeting your eyes.

you start laughing.

quinn was nervous for a lot of things. he was worried you’d freak out and say he was crazy for this. he was worried you’d be mad at him and tell him you didn’t want to go on road trips with him. he didn’t know if you’d cry or jump with joy or walk out on him.

but he never expected you to laugh at him.

you can’t control your laughter. you try, but it just keeps coming, every attempt at containing it only making you laugh harder.

“i don’t understand. what’s so funny here?” quinn manages the courage to ask, voice shaky and embarrassed.

you manage to calm your fit enough to gain a fraction of decorum back, taking a few deep breaths before responding.

“quinn, i thought you were breaking up with me.”

quinn’s eyes widen, not expecting the words out of your mouth at all.

“no, i- why would you think that?” he rushes out, walking towards you.

you wipe the tears from your eyes, trying to calm yourself even further.

“well, i don’t know. the way you worded it had me convinced you were bringing me a new lease you’d signed without my name on it or something. thought you were kicking me out,” you chuckle only slightly at the end of your explanation.

quinn grabs your face in his calloused hands, gently forcing you to look at him.

“i hope you know, i would never break up with you. not by kicking you out of the apartment, much less. if anything you’d be the one kicking me out.”

“well i sure hope not. according to your contract, we have eight more years of roadies in our future. think those accommodations would be real awkward if you kicked me out. wonder if petey would let me bunk with him?”

[ghostgirl-22]

i like the idea that art doesn’t masturbate without patrick, it’s some weird hang up he has, idk. anyway, patrick knows this and will go long periods of time without masturbating just to torment art <3

Oh I love your mind darling <33

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit

—-

It probably started getting Pavlovian pretty quickly. Art needs to do it with Patrick at the same time or he can’t finish. Literally can’t come. It’s like Art understood everything Patrick taught him about touching himself except that people normally do it alone. Not with their roommates or friends. Definitely not in the same bed, while talking to each other about how good it feels. Patrick guiding him through it till he’s filling an old school sock with jizz, while gasping and breathing in Patrick’s ear, then falling asleep on Patrick’s chest.

But after years and years, it’s a whole thing. It might be okay with Patrick if Art wasn’t so repressed in every other fucking way. Patrick wakes up often with his fingers tangled in golden curls, legs intertwined with Art’s long soft ones, usually fully aroused. And then it’s just Art disengaging. Pretending none of it’s anything and they’re just bros. And it’s okay. It’s fine. Art has all kinds of ticks and weird hang ups this is just another one to add to the list. And Patrick doesn’t usually want to pass up an opportunity to have Art moaning in his bed even if it’s fucking frustrating after. Hell, it’d be nice if he could get a kiss every once in a while, Patrick actively fantasizes about putting his lips on Art’s, but that would mean acknowledging it. Which Art would never do.

Patrick isn’t vindictive. He swears he’s not. He just likes teasing. And Art is so high strung and easy to tease. And fine, maybe he does want to torment him a little. The same way he torments Patrick. Making it feel so intimate and sexual and then pushing Patrick away saying sex has nothing to do with it.

So some nights when Art gets in his bed, or asks if Patrick wants to put the mattresses on the floor and lie in the center of the room, usually an indication that he’s horny and wants to jerk off, because he’s never gonna be direct about it. Patrick will go through the motions, having already jerked off in the shower before bed and he’ll just pretend to be sleepy, or too caught up in the movie or whatever they’re watching and wait to see what Art will do. Patrick’s done it for a day or two in a row before, just curious about how Art would react. Usually he doesn’t do anything. He’s pretty passive. But recently Patrick’s been stretching the time.

It’s been two weeks now and Patrick can tell Art is losing it. He doesn’t even have a girlfriend at the moment so he’s got no way to release.

“Patrick,” he whines when Patrick feigns sleepiness.

”Yeah?” Patrick sighs, stretching out.

“Um…”

He can tell Art is frustrated, wants to complain but doesn’t know how without acknowledging it. Patrick smiles to himself and rolls over pretending to be so sleepy.

“Um can’t we… can’t we…”

“What?” Patrick rolls his eyes, he can’t even say it.

“I was hoping we could… you know,” he says, he sounds so whiny and desperate. He’s been dizzy all week. Barely able to focus on school or tennis. So fucking pent up. He’s horny all the time, cheeks always in full blush, eyes always dilated. So many ruined orgasms when he tries to do it alone. Near constant blue balls, erections flagging and coming back at all kinds of weird times. Like when he has to hide it during class when their 45 year old English professor walks in wearing a knee length skirt. All because he can’t make himself come unless he’s in bed with Patrick and Patrick’s doing it with him.

“What?” Patrick says.

“Patrick, you know,” Art whines. “We haven’t done it in forever.”

“Done what, I’m so tired,” Patrick fakes a yawn. “Practice has been kicking my ass.”

Art doesn’t say anything for a minute and then, “You’re fucking doing it on purpose,” he mutters, quietly.

“Doing what on purpose, sunshine? Sleeping?”

”Can we just fucking jerk off? Please Patrick, it hurts,” Art cries. The first time he’s outright asked for it.

Patrick smiles and rolls over. Art is flushed, his clear blue eyes are wet and he’s doing that pathetic shivering, sniffling thing he does when he cries. Patrick’s cock is filling up so fucking fast.

He touches Art’s swollen cock lightly, “Oh sweetheart,” Patrick says, pretending to be surprised, like he hasn’t felt it night after night. Rising and eventually flagging when Art falls into a fitful sleep. Art’s eyes flutter closed from the slightest touch, the tears pooled inside spilling down his cheeks as he sniffles and hums. Patrick watches him, Art starts grabbing at it too while Patrick slips it out and starts touching him properly. He’s moaning like it’s such a fucking relief for him, and fine, Patrick’s going to cave.

“You really can’t do this without me, can you sweetheart?” Patrick whispers.

“Mm, need it,” Art moans, lost in headspace. Patrick doesn’t usually get to touch him but now that he has he’s not sure he ever wants to stop, their hands are tangled up together sliding up and down, along the length. He gets a little more daring and leans in pressing his lips against Art’s parted ones.

Art is still, just breathing into Patrick’s mouth. Patrick teases his tongue along Art’s bottom lip and Art sighs. Then all at once Patrick feels Art’s tongue darting into his mouth and they’re kissing. And it feels so much better, so much more erotic than anything Patrick imagined. He doesn’t want to stop touching Art but he’s so hard he finds himself rubbing off along Art’s thigh.

Art barely reacts. He’s moaning, licking into Patrick’s mouth, so wet, he’s got his tongue all over the place. He starts shivering minutes later, gasping, and Patrick can feel the sudden rush of fluid along his palm where he’s gripping Art’s heated cock and suddenly Art is painting him with so much come.

It gets all over Patrick’s pajama pants, some of it on his stomach where his t-shirts riding up, thick heated ropes of it and Art is just whining against his lips as it pours out of him. He’s so loud their neighbors can probably hear him.

It’s so fucking hot, Patrick knows he isn’t going to last. Art is breathless, panting against Patrick’s lips when he’s done. And Patrick’s using some of Art’s spend as lube when he shoves his hand into his own pants and starts jerking himself off.

He comes one second after Art begins actively kissing him again. Then they’re just kissing, kissing, kissing. Slow, deliberate, wet kisses, while Art explores every inch of Patrick’s mouth with his tongue. They’re doing it for what feels like hours but is probably less than thirty minutes before Art is pushing himself up. “I gotta pee,” he says, stumbling to his feet. His hair’s all over the place, skin flushed, lips kiss swollen, eyes so bright. Sunshine.

Patrick knows Art needs to clean up, it’s another one of his things. He can’t sleep with it all over like that. So he changes his clothes while Art is in the bathroom and then uses it himself. Nothing changes after that, Art falls asleep on top of him. Patrick wakes up in the morning, all tangled up with him. He’s disappointed when Art wakes up and pulls away from him disappearing into the bathroom. Imagining that last night just made things even more fucking confusing. But then Art comes out and crawls back onto the bed to curl up with him, until it’s time to get ready for class and even lets Patrick kiss him on the cheek. And Patrick decides it was definitely worth it.

(Sorry if this doesn’t make sense, it’s even less proofread than usual and I’m all over the place writing lots lol)

[heich0e]

it may come as a shock (to anyone who doesn't know him, anyway) but ukai keishin is not particularly... skilled at talking to women.

actually, he's pretty good—or at least passably okay—at talking to women. it's anything beyond talking that challenges him. taking a conversation further than surface level niceties or flirtation. which is why it's all the more surprising that you're here with him, in the little apartment he lives in behind his family's store, tipsy on the beers he grabbed from the drink fridge in the shop just after close, and staring at him with your undivided attention and a playful little smile on your face.

"okay," you say, draining the last mouthful of your beer and then setting the can aside. "it's my turn to ask a question now."

you two have been going back and forth like this for hours, asking each other inane little questions between laughter and drinks. keishin learned that you cheated on your university entrance exam and got away with it. you found out he stole his first pack of cigarettes from the shop when he was 14, and he burst into tears when his grandfather confronted him about it. keishin takes another sip of his own beer and nods you on encouragingly, trying not to let his eyes dip too low on the neckline of your top—a tiny little tank top you'd pulled your sweater off to reveal a few drinks in, since his apartment runs hot without A/C.

you look at him with an impish twinkle in your eyes, leaning in a bit closer to him where he's leaning back against the sofa.

"what's something you've never told anyone?"

keishin hesitates (trying really, really hard not to look down your top when you lean in like that) as he mulls over your question. there are quite a few things that come to mind that he could say right now—zero of which would result in him ever seeing you again. he wracks his brain until finally.

"i got a nose job."

"HA!" you toss your head back, shoving him playfully as you laugh. "you're so full of shit."

"no, no! i mean it!" keishin says. "i was 18!"

you're still laughing, leaning over him to push him again. "if you're gonna lie, at least come up with something believable."

"i really did!" keishin groans, increasingly despairing. the only thing worse than someone knowing he got a nose job as a teenager was having someone think he was lying about it.

in a moment of desperation he reaches out for your hand, bringing it up to his nose. he carefully navigates your pointer finger and thumb to either side of the bridge, using his own fingers to maneuver yours into just the right spot.

"see—" keishin says, when he feels that familiar little bump underneath both of your fingertips. all at once he seems to realize what he's done, staring up at you, so terribly close to him. feeling the warmth of your touch over his suddenly burning face.

"wow," you breathe, quiet as anything. "i... feel it."

keishin can't blame the lack of a/c for how heavy the air in his shitty little apartment suddenly seems. can't blame the beer for how dizzy he feels. it's all because of you, and the faint smell of your perfume, and how fucking soft your hands are.

"you really got a nose job?" you ask him, still quiet. still close.

keishin swallows, nodding a little bit. you let your hand fall from his face, but you don't move away. still angled over him on the sofa, still deliriously close.

"i broke it. uh, twice actually, playing volleyball. first time healed up okay on its own. second one was a real bloodbath. couldn't go more than 4 hours without having to shove a tamp—" keishin cuts himself off, realizing what he's in the process of admitting to you. he clears his throat. "anyway, after the second break they had to go in and fix it with surgery."

"that's not really a nose job," you say with a light laugh, and keishin thinks his eyes must be playing tricks on him because he swears your gaze has slipped down from his doctored nose to his unremarkable mouth.

"i'll be sure to take that technicality up with the rhinoplasty specialist next time i see him," keishin croaks out in response—though what was meant to be airy and joking comes across rather pained, because you only seem to be getting closer to him now.

"hey, keishin?" you ask him, your mouth so close to his that he can feel the warmth of your words on his lips. he can almost imagine what your lips must feel like, from this near. can almost taste them.

"yeah?"

"aren't you gonna ask me something now?"

he swallows hard again, his fingers twisted into a vice grip on the thigh of his pants. "oh, uh, sure..."

you wait for him to find his next query, but his brain is moving syrupy slow now. he's not even sure he could tell you what his own name is, let alone come up with an insightful question.

you laugh a little to yourself, leaning in again. keishin's sure you're about to kiss him and he freezes like a deer in the headlights, but instead you dip down close to his ear, your lips ghosting over the shell.

"if you can't think of anything, you can just ask me the same question i asked you, y'know," you whisper, a teasing lilt in your voice. when you pull away you've got that same cheshire cat smile on your face that you've been wearing for most of the evening. the one that keishin has to actively avoid thinking about or he's worried he's gonna go half-hard like a pubescent teen.

"oh, yeah. uh—" keishin clears his throat, shifting a bit. "w-what's something you've never told anyone?"

you put a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back into the sofa as you crawl into his lap.

"well, i've never told anyone that i've been waiting for you to make a move for the past two hours."

keishin peers up at you with a cartoonishly shocked look on his face; eyes wide, and a furious red blush slithering up his cheeks and across that perfect, ski slope nose. his lips part like he's going to reply, but he's so dumbstruck that no words manage to come out.

you breathe out a laugh, dipping down into his space again, and this time he doesn't have to imagine the feeling of your lips against his, because when you speak again they ghost against his own like a promise.

"since it's my turn to ask a question: how much longer are you gonna keep me waiting?"

has anyone else ever noticed how ukai has the cutest most adorablest little nose ever of all time ??