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charliemwrites · 4 months

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A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #polycule #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl

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beneatheaven · 8 months

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video call sex with soobin

lowercase intended, 1,764 words, haven’t proof read

smut under cut, minors do not interact

sitting down at your desk with all your project work out, ready to go over it with your partner, soobin. you both decided to do some over the call working sessions together along because of his busy schedule. this being the first one. it kinda pissed you off, with all the free time on your side, it felt like you could finish this sooner on your own. but it's whatever, he's really smart so maybe he can carry for the both of you guys.

you receive a text saying he's ready and on is on discord. opening up the app on your laptop, and joining the call. noticing he had his camera on. you could see his room in the background. his bed nicely made and there's a pretty shelf with all his little figures. it's kinda cute, coming from him.

"hey, are you ready? oh why isn't your camera on?". his voice brings you back. "i didn't know that was apart of the agreement. why's yours on?" you say harshly. "well just so that we can see if either of us get distracted, keep each other on track.". hmm maybe he has a point..

you don't really want to turn your camera on, you're in your loose tank top and shorts, ready to sleep sometime after this. now noticing what he's wearing, he's just in a white tee and probably some grey sweats huh..."okay i'll turn it on."

after 40 minutes of going over the subject and how to equally separate the work load, you're focused on getting all the information you can for today. you had half of your screen soobin's camera screen and the other half your school work, so did he. this also being his idea, making sure that you guys could keep an eye on each other.

this wasn't so bad, soobin made a nice study playlist for guys to listen to at the same time. thinking it would've kept you distracted, but it kept you very concentrated. possibly preferring this over being in a quiet library together.

"um y/n your.. your um strap." looking down at yourself and lifting your strap back up and into place. you didn't have a bra on either so it felt extra exposed. "thanks, sorry about that." you felt a little shy about it. "no worries, um did you want to take a break? we've been working for over an hour and a half." you agreed and moved some of your things to the side.

soobin had turned the study music off as you were about to get on your phone. "so what were you doing before this?" you look over at your laptop. making his camera camera screen larger. "i was just cleaning and getting some other homework done. killing time before you were ready. i almost wanted to get a head start cause i had so much time." that last sentence coming off a little harsh. but it was true!

"yea sorry about that.. they're been giving me closing shifts recently after my afternoon classless and i don't get to do anything until i'm home." it was out of his control..oh poor soobin..

"it's fine, at least you're willing to actually do the work, i appreciate it."he smiles at your response. of course he would be helpful. "i feel kinda bad tho, wouldn't your boyfriend be mad about spending late nights with me?" he dragged out his words a little. "i don't have a boyfriend." responding immediately , felt like you had to.

he laughs slightly at your reply. "just expected someone as pretty as you are to be taken already." his words made your face feel hot, how did he do that. he's left you speechless..

"tell me y/n, what are you doing after this?" his voice became a bit deeper, with a sultry tone. "probably sleeping, wouldn't want to stay up too late." nodding his head, seems like a reasonable to do.. what's he thinking?

"well after this i'm also heading to bed, but just before i sleep i'm going to think about how cute you look in that tank top." all the heat from your face just went straight to your core. did he mean that..

he ran his hand through his hair. "and how it'd look if i just lifted it up just right above your tits.. running my fingers lightly over you." starting to squirm in your chair. how's this even happening. "i'm getting hard just thinking about it right now, too bad i'll have to imagine it." biting his bottom lip as he stares back at you for a bit. "anyways, lets get back to work, wouldn't want you to sleep late." he went back to flipping through his papers.

you blinked at how fast he was able to move from that. he can't just talk to you like that and you get nothing out of it, no fair. after collecting your thoughts you get back to work, still no music playing. you could hear soobin's breathing, and how fast your heart is beating still.

you knew soobin's eye's shifted to your screen quite often, maybe he wanted to make sure you were focused, maybe he just wanted to just be reminded how hot you looked right now. deciding to lean in closer to your laptop, your breast would squish closer together, looking like they might spill out of your loose tank top.

soobin groans."don't do that." he leans back in his chair. "do what?" playing dumb. you notice his right hand is blow his desk, what if he's stroking himself.."you seem distracted soobin, remember, we still have 30 minutes to work tonight." he rolls his eyes, "how about another break? I'm sorta getting tired of this assignment."

you lean back in your seat, keeping eye contact with him on the screen. "sure, it's up to you." soobin's right hand still unseen, you wanna play see what he's up to so bad. "oh come on, you don't wanna show me what you're busy doing?" his tongue darts out his mouth swiping across his bottom lip and bitting down on it before speaking. "so eager? our break just started." scoffing at his reply, you lean right back in closer.

"come on let me see..i'll do whatever you want right after." earning a whimper from him, he goes to move his pc camera down slightly and scoots back a little. he was wearing grey sweats, they were pulled down slightly along with his boxers. entire cock out, stroking it slowly. you could see the small beads of precum coming out from his pretty pink tip. wondering how much that pc camera cost..

you could moan at this sight, him biting his lip so he doesn't release any sounds, feeling so vulnerable from you staring at him in this state. "you look so cute soobin." his whimpers still being held back. "your turn now, please?" "fine if you say so."

thinking about his fantasy, deciding to make it real. you lift your top slowly and letting it rest just above your breast like he imagined. his faced was so torn, losing it over how hot you looked. running your fingers all over your chest, teasing yourself with your soft touches and grazes. this just felt so hot, everything about this was so hot.

"you're just as gorgeous as i imagined, so pretty baby, can i call you that?" he sounded so good. the slight whine in his voice and pauses in his sentences, you would do anything he asked. "yes please, do whatever you want." "so needy, how cute."

still playing with his tip "wish i could kiss those pretty tits, pinch them and hear your pretty moans, could you do that for me baby?" your breathing is heavy, nodding at him. lifting both your hands, with just the tips of your pointer fingers, rubbing them both your nipples lightly. you felt so sensitive, jolting at your own touches, you could hear him moaning at you. eye lids wanting to close but you kept them open and you could see his left hand going under his shirt and rubbing his chest, you could see his abs... there's no way he's real.

after teasing your nipples for a few more seconds, deciding to pinch them, immediately letting out a loud moan. "god yes, let me hear you." you could see his fist moving up and down his cock faster as he watched you tease yourself. "wanna touch yourself pretty? please i wanna see how you do it."

he's making you feel so good and he's not even here, you need him so bad after this. your right hand starts diving down to your shorts, under your panties. "let me see how wet you are baby." collecting some of your slick to show him. "your so wet, i wish i could taste you..will you let me next time?" thank goodness he feels the same way.

going back to under shorts, you flicked your clit a couple of times, earning him some more of your pretty moans. slipping one finger in, thrusting it as fast as you could on your own. left hand still playing with your breast, everything felt so good, soobin's voice praising you and moaning after. "you wanna cum so badly don't you? wish it was my fingers?" "uh huh." nodding as you inserted a second finger, his words felt so good.

"i'm gonna cum soon baby, keep moaning for me pretty. cum with me, wanna see you lose it." you both kept going until you felt that knot in your stomach snap. thighs shaking, bitting down on your bottom lip. you didn't know you could be this loud. soobin's moans when he came were so mouthwatering, throwing his head back while he came with ropes of cum. wanna taste him..

"so good baby, you did so good for me." trying to catch your breathing, pulling your top down to cover yourself, licking your cum off your fingers. "so dirty for me." "your so hot soobin." orgasm high hitting you fast, you just wanna compliment him and kiss him so bad, wishing he was here. "that felt so good, i can't believe it."

after the both of you guys calmed down, just in each other silent presence. "i'm glad that happened. i didn't really plan for that but, you just.. looked really good right now." making you blush again, he's so kissable. "maybe we could work on the project at my place next time, or yours.." "yea i'd like that."

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt imagines #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Dirty Work 43

Joyous Walpurgisnacht: Part I

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Here we go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you stand from the table, your name draws your attention from your plate. Mr. Laufeyson mirrors you as he peers over at his mother. You notices how his fingers twiddle by his side.

“You’ll come get ready with us, dear,” Frigga says, “Trina is coming to do our hair an makeup. Be sure to grab your dress.”

“Oh, uh…” you look at Laufeyson and he shrugs with one shoulder. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry about my brother,” Hela snorts, “I’m certain he’ll be torturing himself over the proper shade of white; shall I go for the ivory or the pearl?”

“Quiet,” Laufeyson sneers under his breath before he turns to you, “go on then,” he looks at his watch, “we all have much to do.”

He strides past you and you watch after him. He’s still upset. It’s your fault. You’ve been errant in your duties. You will make it up to him. At Walpurgisnacht, you won’t dare leave his side.

“Come,” Frigga beckons to you, “Hel, you too.”

“Yes, mother,” she drones and rounds the table.

You follow them to the door, only noticing as you approach that Thor’s done the same. He keeps a step back as he waves within, “after you, lady.”

“Er, thanks,” you eke out and step in ahead of him.

He’s quick to tail you, his fingers sending a shiver through you as he touches the back of your arm, “happy birthday, little one. How old are you now?” He asks.

You wince and hug yourself, keeping your chin down as he matches your pace. Frigga reaches to flick a strand of Hela’s black hair as she gabs on about it. You chew your lip and crane to look over your shoulder. You don’t see Odin, he must’ve stuck behind to chat with the staff.

“Thirty-two,” you answer as you face straight.

“Mmm, not too old,” his hand brushes across your back, “you look much younger.”

“Thank you, uh,” you stutter as his touch ventures further, tickling the top of your ass. Your panic swells and you bat him away, “I… have to go.”

You don’t know how to make him stop, but you can control yourself. You rush ahead to catch up to Frigga. As you come up at her side, Thor’s low rocky chuckle rolls through the air. You don’t look back as your blood runs cold. You don’t know why he won’t leave you alone.

“Ah, dear, I think we could put some flowers in your hair,” Frigga remarks as she waves you ahead of her up the stairs, “to go with that pretty dress of yours.”

“Sure,” you agree.

“She’ll look like a bride,” Hela scoffs, “perhaps just some diamonds around her neck–”

“Pearls,” Frigga argues.

“Pearls? She’s not an old lady yet,”

“Eh? Pearls are nice,” Frigga counters.

“Perhaps for you,” Hela rebuffs, “babe,” Hela swoops around her mother and drapes her arm over your shoulders as you turn down the hall, “what do you prefer?”

You blink, finding it hard to breathe through the tension. You don’t dare pick a side.

“I like the dress on its own,” you say.

“Ah, yes, she’s right, it is so nice, it would be ruined with too much,” Frigga hums, “how about just the petals,” she reaches to touch your hair, “a small accent but not garish.”

“Mm, yes, like a little fairy,” Hela muses as she retracts her arm, “I’m afraid I’m going for more of a witchy vibe.”

“Oh dear,” Frigga mutters, “Hel.”

“A good witch, mother, never fear.”

✨

You look in the mirror, swept away by your own reflection. The small white flowers in your hair are placed so delicately and just so, matching with those on the dress in their fluttery display. You skin seems to glow from the precise application of makeup, your lashes are long and curved but not too heavy. Your lips are painted a natural hue with a glossy finish and a touch of blush lends colour to your cheeks. It feels like a lot but looks like less.

The dress is just as wonderful as you remember. The outer layer decorated in carefully cut flowers over the simple dress of white beneath. The skirt flows to your lower calves, ending just above the straps of your heels, a bow on the back of each. You blink and tilt your head at your reflection, is it really you looking back?

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hela growls as she steps up behind you, “uh, so darling.”

“You look amazing, dear,” Frigga calls over.

You turn to watch the older woman pin on large dangling earrings. She wears a white dress hemmed below her knees with large fanned bell sleeves. Her necklace is strung with pearls that get large towards the centre and her silver and gold hair is spun into loose waves pushed back behind an elaborate headband with golden points.

Hela is dressed much less elegantly. Her jumpsuit is taut to her figure, the neckline cute so deep you wonder how it stays up. She wears a sort of cowl, sparkling with diamond as it goes from chin to shoulders, a larger gem dangling down her cleavage.

“Well, I think we’re almost there,” Frigga announces breezily, “come, come.”

She ushers you and Hela from the room into the hall. The house is buzzing with activity. As you come downstairs, you’re lost amid the flurry. The kitchen is bustling with furor and workers flit around like bees in a hive. You stay close to the other women as they walk unfettered through the rush.

You come out to the veranda, clutching the sides of your skirt as you watch your feet, careful not to trip on your heels. In the sunlight, Frigga sighs, and calls to someone. You look up and follow her down the steps.

The lush green flat of the yard is entirely changed. A white floral arch, white cloth draping over the roofs of newly erected tents, tables in similarly silky ivory, petals scattered all around as stems are capped with full blooms atop posts, in plinthed vases, and around tables. A stage stands, blocking out much of the garden, a bar along an edge of the expanse with several workers behind it arranging glasses and bottles.

“Yvonne,” Frigga trills again, “come, come, we should like some photos.”

A woman in a white suit approaches with a large camera in hand. She is tall with full hips emphasized by the cut of her clothing. Her strawberry blond hair is twisted into a high bun with two pin straight pieces framing her face.

“Hello, Von,” Hela purrs at her familiarly. The women glance at each other and an eyebrow twitches. They know each other. Everyone does but you.

“This is our photographer,” Frigga introduces you to Yvonne, “she’ll be taking pictures so don’t mind if you see a flash or two through the night.” She turns back to the strawberry blonde, “hm, where are the men? They must be here…”

You fold your hands and sway back and forth. Surely you won’t be included. This is for the family. You’ll just stand to the side.

“Ah, Odin!” Frigga throws her hands up, greeting her husband as he approaches in a white pressed shirt beneath a matching stiff vest and white slacks. He wears a golden chain around his collar and cufflinks at his wrists. His shoes also bear golden buckles. “There you are. Where are your sons?”

“So quick to disown them,” Odin kids, “they were…” he looks back.

Thor clamours down from the veranda, combing out his long blond hair which he’s let loose from its usual bun. The waves fall to his shoulders, just along his open collar, unbuttoned to boast the thick muscles of his chest. He beams in white just like everyone else. A gold medallion hangs from his neck and his fingers are stacked with rings.

Loki follows last, shoulders high, hands staunchly tucked into his pockets. He looks at the sky as he appears in his simple attire. White shirt, white tie, white slacks cute perfectly to his sleek figure. White loafers with plain silver buckles. His black hair is swept back, the front pieces drawn back into a clip behind his head as the tails curl out behind his ears.

As he takes the same path as his father and brother, his eyes search and find you. His irises flicker and his brows arch. You avert your gaze and look at the grass, fidgeting as you wait awkwardly to the side. Frigga preens at each son and tells them how handsome they look.

“Alright, alright, we’ll get a few photos before the guests arrive,” she claps her hands.

There’s movement along the edge of your vision. You keep your head down as Frigga orders her family around. You flinch as she grabs your wrist suddenly and pulls your hands apart.

“Right here, dear,” she guides you next to Odin before she stands at his other side. “Okay, everyone, no scowling.”

You look up, wide eyed and the camera flashes. You bat your lashes and put on a smile as Odin bends his arm behind you, resting his hand on your lower back. The gesture calms you as the photographer counts down.

You stand frozen as the camera shutters, wondering why you’re there. What will they do with the photos when you are irrelevant? Finally, you’re allowed to disperse as Frigga struts over to Yvonne to have a look at the photos.

You turn nearly collide with Mr. Laufeyson before you can even think to look for him. You back up as he stares at you. He raises a hand as if to touch your arm then thinks better of it. He clear his throat and tugs on his skinny tie.

“That is a beautiful dress,” he remarks, “very on theme.”

“Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson,” you sniff and rub your palms together.

“Stay close,” he says tersely, clearing his throat, “or…” you hear his tone soften, “I might lose you in the flowers.”

His lips curve, just a little. Is he joking? You’re not sure.

“Come,” he jabs his fingers through the air, “let us get a drink before it is too busy.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

You walk beside him and he sighs. No, you’re not sure he was being funny. He’s still unhappy.

As you reach the bar, he greets the workers in white behind it. He orders whiskey on ice, then turns to you. For a moment, you’re taken back to the night you found him with the same drink… that was the first, maybe the only time, you saw him so human.

“What would you like?” He asks.

“Um, I don’t… know,” you murmur.

“Our cocktails,” a worker points to the standing list of drinks. You lean in and read each.

“Oh, uh, could I get the lavender lemonade, please?”

“Yes, miss,” the worker replies and sets to mixing the drink. Laufeyson takes his and holds it tight.

“Lokiiiii,” a familiar brogue rumbles through the air.

You turn to face Bragi as he approaches. A pocket watch swings from his vest, though he wears no shirt beneath it. You greet him with a tight-lipped smile.

“And his lady,” he smirks at you, “you haven’t seen Fossegrim, have you?”

“You brought that creature?”

“Ah, he tagged along. He chased off a chickadee and I’ve not seen him since. Never to worry,” he snaps his fingers, "I'm all set up.” He nods towards the stage, “and look at you too, pretty in white.” He looks at you pointedly, “I must say, you look like a goddess. I was also let in on a secret,” he declares, “it is your birthday. Happy birthday, did you have a favourite song? I might fit it into my set.”

“Um…” you think. “I don’t…” you look over as Mr. Laufeyson reaches back to take another glass from the bar and offers you the purple drink. You take it with a meek nod before facing Bragi again, “there was this song… from a movie… Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She sings it on the balcony but I can’t remember how it goes.”

“Oh, yes, I know the one. Beloved Hepburn, what a treat she was,” he purrs, “I think I can figure out the chords.”

“You don’t have to…” you shrug.

“I want to,” he insists, “oh and watch for dark shadows, Fossegrim will surely return once he smells food.”

“Sure,” you agree and squeeze the glass tight. Laufeyson just hums in his throat.

“Anyhow, I need water,” he sidles past you, “happy Walpurgisnacht!”

You return the sentiment before you step away. You peer around, uncertain what to do next. Your heels sink into the grass and you pull them out, teetering. Laufeyson glances over at you.

“Shall we sit?” He asks.

“Erm, okay.”

He waves you ahead of him and you weave over to one of the tables. You sit and put your glass down without tasting it. He sips his own as he lowers himself. He’s tense, setting it down with a heavy clunk.

You look around and see new faces arriving. It’s beginning. Your stomach churns as each guest appears. It really is a big deal.

“You are nervous,” Laufeyson intones, bringing you back to the table.

“A little.”

“Mm,” he pokes his tongue in his cheek, “well, then, even more reason to stay by my side. I’ve navigated these waters all my life, I can stave off the sharks.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

His lips slant and he spreads his hand over his chest before dragging it down, “and…” his throat bobs, “happy birthday, if I forgot to say.”

“Um, thank you,” you squeak, “it isn’t a very big deal.”

He inhales, “it isn’t? By your choice or… his?”

You shrug, “I never made it one. Really, just another year.”

“Certainly, time does keep on now matter what,” he mulls.

You’re quiet. You take the drink and look at it. It’s a lovely colour. You take a sip; it’s tangy but nice, a little kick under the citrus notes. Your cheeks pinch as you put it back down.

“Too strong?” he asks.

“No, it’s good,” you assure him, careful not to drip any on your dress.

He taps his fingers on the tabletop, “I must say, you do look rather… rather nice.”

“Oh, yes, um, Trina, your mother’s friend…” you utter, “she did it.”

You look at him, finding his eyes rapt upon you. His gaze almost takes your breath away. He reaches to touch your hand, leaning in just a little. His eyes flick past you suddenly and he stops, his hand lightly over your as he sits frozen.

You turn to peek over your shoulder. You hear Thor’s thundering voice as he greets someone. A perfect swoop of dark hair bounces before him and he embraces the tall, slender woman. You know, even without seeing her face, who it is. Sif.

You bring your other hand over Laufeyson’s and press it down firmly as you face him, “are you alright?”

His eyes skitter back to you and he slips his hand free. You deflate as he instead takes his glass and slurps with a scowl. Walpurgisnacht will not be a new beginning, only a reminder of old wounds.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dirty work #series #au #maid au #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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hisunshiine · 9 months

Text

—in good hands | jjk [M]

💻 pairing: streamer!jungkook x female!reader 🫶🏻 au/genre: camboy au, smut 💻 rating: M 🫰🏻 wc: 1,500 💻 warnings: second hand embarrassment from your friend exposing your thirst for JK; explicit sexual content: masturbation, voyeurism, cum eating, fingering. 🫶🏻 summary: camboy!Tae helps convince his streaming/gaming friend Jungkook to try it out, especially when a mutual friend’s input (yours) sweetens the deal, and you’re more than ready to get your hands dirty helping him. 💻 an: thank you to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for beta reading when i needed a…hand. Hehehe. 💻 an 2: part of the @bangtanwritershq September 2023 “Big Boys” flash fiction writing event. request received from @colormepurplex2

“Stop staring, babe.”

Jungkook adjusts the volume on his gaming headset, unsure about what Taehyung could be talking about, but the attitude in his voice is apparent.

“Everything cool, Tae?”

“Yeah…”

He falls silent and Jungkook uses the grappling hook to bring Widowmaker above enemy lines before using Infrasight to show his teammates the enemies positions on the map. Climbing a bit higher, he takes a few opponents out with her assault rifle, and D.Va appears to his left on screen, using her fusion cannons to take out the rest.

“Fuck yeah! Good game,” Jungkook praises, but Taehyung remains quiet. Jungkook turns off the livestream he set up for the game and tries to check in once more with his friend.

“Tae?”

“Yeah, sorry, I muted, but uh, Hana wants to tell you something.”

Jungkook can hear as Hana takes the headset from his friend, and her light vocals replace her boyfriend's much deeper ones.

“Hey Kookie, have you ever thought about camming like Tae does? I mean, I’m skimming a few comments from the stream and you have more than a few viewers talking about your hands.”

Jungkook feels his cheeks grow warm at what Hana is implying. He knows about the thirsty viewers, the requests he gets to put his hands to better use. It’s not that he hasn’t thought about it—the pay alone could be quite good—he’s just a little shy.

“I’m not saying you have to, I just have a friend…you’ve met her a few times! Tae said you thought she was cute—ow! Anyway, she thinks you’re hot and enjoys watching you guys play and well…she’s interested in watching a different type of content if you ever decide on it. Okay, here’s Tae-Tae.”

Hana disappears as if she didn’t just insinuate that Jungkook should stream himself fucking his fist on camera because her friend thinks he’s hot. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. They're a match made in heaven if he’s ever seen one. Taehyung and Hana met when she won a contest through his livestreams, and they’ve been dating for a while. Jungkook bounces the idea around in his head as Taehyung takes back his headset.

Hana’s friend is pretty cute, not that Jungkook’s ever said that to her. It’s nice knowing that she’s attracted to him, because the few times they’ve hung out as a group he felt like they seemed to hit it off. Maybe…

“Hey, Tae, what platform do you use to cam, again?”

You can’t believe Hana, your so-called-best-friend, told Jungkook that you watch when he and Taehyung stream themselves gaming because you think he’s hot. Or that she let slip your little fantasy about watching him stream—playing with something else. You can’t be too mad at her though, because Jungkook messaged you on discord for your number the next day.

He’s shamelessly flirting, masking it by asking you to help him with his first ever non-gaming stream, and after texting for a few days, he asks if you can help him decide on some of the finer details—in person—as moral support before he goes live and to help him make sure to give his audience what they’re looking for.

Of course you agree, because spending time with Jungkook, helping him get into the mindset for the camming he is about to do sounds like exactly how you want to spend your Friday night.

Jungkook’s hands are sweating just a bit as he positions the camera in place. He’s waiting for you to show up at the agreed upon time, and though you aren’t late, he kind of wishes you would be super early, so he would stop overthinking.

When you finally knock on his apartment door, ten minutes early because you were overly excited and couldn’t linger anymore downstairs without feeling like a creep, you don’t expect to be met by him shirtless and in sweatpants. He looks a little frazzled, like he’s run his fingers through his hair too much, but it looks sexy paired with his rippling abs as he greets you.

“You look pretty,” he says, complimenting your choice of sundress as summer comes to an end. “I don’t know what to wear…I have these sweats, but I also have another pair of pants…make yourself comfy, I’m gonna try those on for you to see.” Jungkook had led you into his bedroom as he spoke, and he motions to his bed next to it, disappearing into his closet.

You glance around his room, taking in the set up he has for streaming and try to focus on how you can enhance the set for this type of streaming. You make a few changes to the orientation of the lights until you hear his soft footsteps pad back into the room. Turning, the sight in front of you is so heavenly, it’s sinful. It takes you a few moments to speak.

“Definitely wear the leather.” You wipe at your mouth in case some drool leaked from the corner. The white tee and the leather pants he’s squeezed his fit thighs into have you clenching your legs together—you aren’t sure if Jungkook notices or not, but you take a deep breath so you can get yourself together.

You reach for your purse. “Okay, I think you’re ready. You got this.”

“Um…can you stay while I go live?”

Jungkook’s fingers nimbly undo the single button on the black leather pants he’s wearing, making sure to peel back each side of the opening as he slowly reveals the divots in his hips, and the top of his hardening cock. He keeps sliding until the tops of his thighs appear and his cock springs free, bouncing slowly from the weight of his arousal.

You watch from your own phone seated on the edge of his bed, enthralled by his movements. The view is so much better than what you had hoped for, mostly because you were able to curate your wildest fantasy.

He reaches off camera for the bottle of lube, a self-heating KY Jelly that squelches lewdly into his hand before he sets it back down. The camera is angled so close that just his tattooed hand and cock can be seen, but you look away from your phone where you’re viewing the content for perfect placement when you feel his eyes burning into the side of your face.

Your phone falls to your lap, eyes entranced by his gaze on yours as his right hand begins a slow, wet glide down over the tip and along his shaft. When the edge of his pinky finger and palm reaches the base, he pauses briefly to give himself a tight, teasing squeeze, and lets out an orgasmic groan that taunts your throbbing clit.

Fuck. You want to take over for him—want to deepthroat him until he’s whining and then climb on top and ride him until he’s breeding you like the little cumslut you are. But for now, you watch from the best seat in the house as he pleasures himself.

His eyes are low, full of desire as he watches you, hoping you will return the favor and touch yourself, too. With each glide his grip makes, you feel your legs inching apart—if you were home, it wouldn’t even be a question of whether you would be joining in or not.

“I hope you’re touching yourself, too,” Jungkook’s voice is deeper than usual, breathy. He continues talking to his viewers as the numbers climb, but his eyes are on you. “In fact, I want you to. Want you spreading those pretty thighs apart for me, just like that.”

You follow his directives, unable to disobey.

“Don’t be shy, let me see.”

Quietly, you shimmy your panties down, glad you wore a dress that so easily allows him a view of your dripping pussy.

“Touch yourself how you want me to touch you, baby. Good girl.” Jungkook bites his lip, just for your viewing pleasure, as your fingers slip and slide through your lips, teasing your clit and taunting your opening. “Wait till I get my hands on you, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Your eyes follow the pattern he makes as he speeds up, tattooed fingers gripping himself tightly as he pulls his shirt up to reveal his abs, flexing as the pleasure builds.

A gasp from your lips sends him over the edge, opaque cum oozing over the ridge of his fingers as he fucks his fist through the high. You watch with eyes hooded as his tattoos become less visible, two fingers rubbing your clit furiously so you can follow him. You vaguely hear him say something else before he’s out of his chair, hands replacing yours as his body cages you onto his bed.

You wrap your fingers around his cum covered ones, sucking them clean before he dips them inside of you. You let out a whine as his fingers reach deeper than yours did, hips rocking for more friction.

“You’re in good hands, now, baby.”

Thank you for readinggg!!!! Hope you liked this! Read camboy!Tae's 3-part mini series here!

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imaginespazzi · 3 months

Text

Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you

dude

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers

wow

fuck you

just landed

thought you might like to know

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess

September 2021

dude enough okay

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you

November 2021

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm

idk why i’m trying again

maybe i should block you

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige

merry christmas i guess

March 2022

i misz you

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich

pkese pick up

ignore that

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you

wait

i don’t need to tell you that

you already ignore it all anyways

August 2022

i heard about the acl

i’m sorry

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm

***

September 2022

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more.

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed.

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake.

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend.

“And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly.

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly.

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy.

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else. You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod.

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it.

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so, “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest.

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm.

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.”

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall.

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free.

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart.

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it.

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue.

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

***

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet.

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer.

“You wanna see my dorm?”

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice.

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air.

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack.

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile.

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things.

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts.

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin.

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it.

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force.

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having.

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself.

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat.

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy.

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour.

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other.

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus.

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk.

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes.

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.”

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that.

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together.

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts.

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard.

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking.

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane.

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously, “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches.

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost.

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,” Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be.

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps.

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on.

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears.

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back.

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore.

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need.

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something. It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi.

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step.

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile.

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her.

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.”

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen.

“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her.

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that.

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?”

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her.

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away.

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again.

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?”

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch.

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people.

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige.

“You having fun?”

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch.

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface.

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together.

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste.

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths.

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety.

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back.

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall.

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that.

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly.

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable.

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing.

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed.

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it.

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.”

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it.

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear.

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most.

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s.

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up.

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance.

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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cranberrymoons · 4 months

Text

do something about it

prompt: accidental confession (discord drabble) word count: 956 rated: m tags: STOMMY 😇🗣️ no upside down au, pining, drunken confession, making out

---

Tommy sighs as he slumps back against the headboard.

The party’s still going on outside of his room, lights and thumping music, and there’s someone in the kitchen with a lampshade on their head or something probably, and there’s someone’s empty beer can on his nightstand but he’s too gone to really care. He kind of just wants to curl up and sleep, but –

The door bangs open, and he jerks in surprise, but then relaxes.

It’s just Steve.

Steve with his perfect smile and his perfect face and his perfect soft hair, even after he disappeared upstairs earlier with some sorority girl – of course it fucking is, it’s always perfect – and his eyes are big and sleepy and slow-blinking as he flops down on his back at the end of Tommy’s bed. Endless tanned skin and long-fingered hands and that smile when he turns his head and catches Tommy’s eye.

And just – he’s so pretty.

He’s always been so, so pretty, and Tommy has never wanted to kiss him more than he does right now. Which is saying something, because he basically always wants to kiss Steve. Has always wanted to kiss Steve, even back before he knew that was an option. Not that he actually knows it’s an option now, kissing Steve specifically, but kissing in general is –

Whatever.

Point is, he’s probably a little bit in love with him or something. Or maybe even a lot. How embarrassing. Carol used to even make fun of him for it, this big stupid crush on Steve. She was joking, probably, but she was also right.

He watches Steve’s face shift, his mouth opening into a little oh and his eyes going slightly wide. He pulls himself up to sit, folding a leg under himself as he turns to face Tommy.

“You what?”

Tommy frowns. Blinks once, then again. “What?”

Steve clears his throat. “You said…”

His cheeks are pink and beautiful, and so is his mouth as he speaks, but –

Tommy feels a cold wave of panic wash through him. The plastic cup slips in his hand as he grips it tighter, and he sets it down on the nightstand, sitting up straighter.

At what point did the thinking turn into talking, and how much did he say, and how absolutely fucked is he?

“Dude.” He gives a weak laugh. “You know I’m always talking shit.”

A line appears between Steve’s eyebrows, but he’s smiling a little and still so pink, and Tommy thinks that probably means he’s not about to get his ass kicked.

“So you don’t think I’m pretty?”

Tommy blinks. “Obviously you are,” he says, because apparently his dick to brain to mouth filter is broken. “Obviously.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “So do something about it.”

Tommy swallows reflexively. “What?”

“You said you wanted to kiss me,” Steve says, and that’s when Tommy notices the hand pressing into the top of his thigh, realizes Steve has uncurled himself and risen up onto his knees and is leaning forward into his space. “Do something about it.”

Tommy glances to either side, like he’s looking for someone else that Steve could be talking to, but there’s no one – just them and the relative darkness of the room and the receding noise of the party still going on downstairs.

“It’s not just a drunk thing,” Tommy says. His voice comes out quiet, now that Steve is so close. “For me.”

Steve takes a breath and nods. “Okay.”

He’s staring at Tommy’s mouth as he says it, and Tommy wonders if his lips are pink like Steve’s. His tongue darts out to lick them, and Steve sways closer.

“I don’t want to do it if we’re just going to pretend it never happened,” he says.

Steve nods, glancing back up to meet Tommy’s eye. Again, “Okay.”

His fingers dig into the muscle of Tommy’s thigh, just a few points of pressure, and that’s the thing – that’s what tips him over the edge. His hand comes up to grab onto Steve, half in his hair and half on his cheek, angling his face up as he pushes forward to meet him, sparks shooting off behind his eyes, because finally.

It’s not very good at first as kisses go – their teeth click together, and Steve’s tongue tastes a little like cheap beer as it pushes into his mouth, but then the angle changes and –

“Fuck,” Tommy says. Steve plants a knee on either side of his hips and settles down in his lap, hands threading back through his hair to drag him into another kiss. “Fuck.”

It’s somehow exactly how he’s always pictured it and also so much better, because he never could have pictured this – Steve real and warm and heavy on top of him, hard against him where they’re pressed together, the breathy little gasp he lets out when Tommy’s hand slides down his back to span out over his waist.

He’s never going to be able to go back to picturing it after this.

Steve’s hand grapples back to find his, threads their fingers together and pulls him away, and Tommy’s heart lurches in his chest, bracing for him to draw back, change his mind, decide this is too much – but Steve just draws his hand further around until Tommy has a handful of his ass through the tight denim of his jeans.

Steve grinds down against him, and Tommy’s head falls back with a thud, groaning as he stares up at the ceiling. Steve’s mouth attaches itself to his neck and works down toward his collar, and he feels like his whole brain is spinning with how much he wants.

And finally, after years and years and years of this, he lets himself take.

[also on ao3]

#stwgdailyprompt #steve harrington #tommy hagan #stranger things #my fic #discord drabble #stommy #stommy fic

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vioartemis · 11 months

Text

Act 5

(Amber Freeman x fem! reader)

Summary: After joining a discord server, you meet a girl... Warnings: (+18), smut, oral, fingering, blood, violence, injuries, characters are 18+ (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

As far as you could remember, you had always been a horror movie fan. Halloween, Friday the 13th, Saw, The exorcist, Stab... you enjoyed watching these movies. Recently, you had even joined a discord server for Stab fans.

It was really fun talking about these movies with people you knew liked them as much as you did, and it felt nice sharing your passion with others.

There were only two rules in this server: 1. If you were to make video calls, you would all wear Ghostface costumes and masks; and 2. Never, under any circumstances, say your name.

At first you thought that was weird, but it was a matter of safety. Stab fans were considered crazy after what happened in 2011 -and other side events.

Keeping your identity secret had become a must, if you didn't want other people online to hate on you and/or accuse you of crimes.

Fortunately, in the server, no one seemed to have a problem with the rules. And neither did you.

Until that day.

There was this girl on the server, with who you had been talking to in private for some months now. You may or may not had developed a little crush on her.

She was so nice, and it was so easy talking to her. You had the same opinion about almost everything too. But you didn't tell her. What if she thinks I'm weird? you thought.

You were currently on call with her, and the fact that you lived in Woodsboro just slipped.

"Wait- you live in Woodsboro? Me too! Maybe we know each other? What about we meet in real life?"

"I- We're not supposed to do that... Remember the rules? No personal information, so identity reveal or whatever..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you trust me, right? 'Cause I know I can trust you"

"Of course I- I trust you but-"

"Well if we both trust each other, why not meet? It's better talking face to face, don't you think? Plus I'm dying to see what you look like. I'm sure you're super pretty"

You blushed at her words, and stuttered a quiet ‘okay’.

Two hours later, you were waiting in front of the high school, nervous. What if she didn’t like you irl? What if it was awkward? What if-

"Y/n?"

You turned around as you heard your name.

"Amber…?"

You couldn’t help but stare at her. She was gorgeous. The most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

"It’s so nice to finally meet you!" she started "And I was right; you’re really pretty"

You spent the whole day chatting and laughing together. There was definitely chemistry between you too.

"That’s my house" you said softly

You were a little sad your time with her was already over, you wanted make it last more.

"Oh, okay… We’ll meet again, right?"

"Yeah, of course! I’d love to!"

You smiled at each other, and waved goodbye, before you started making your way to the door. But you couldn’t just go like that.

"Amber I-" you started as you turned around

Before you could finish your sentence, her lips were in yours, soft against your own. It took you a second to register what was going on, but soon you were kissing back.

Amber pulled away after a moment. Her lips were inches away from yours, her eyes not leaving your own. Then she leans in for another kiss, more passionate.

Her hands were on your waist, keeping you close, as her tongue slipped past your lips. You made for a while, before running out of air.

When you pulled away, you could see that her lips were red and swollen, and so were yours.

"Maybe we should continue this inside, hm?" Amber said with a light smirk

You blushed and nodded, before trying to open the door. Your hands were shaking a bit in excitement, and Amber being flush against your back, arms around your waist and kissing your neck didn’t help.

Eventually you managed to open the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you both, you got pinned against it, Amber’s lips back on yours.

As the kiss grew more and more feverish, you felt her cold hands sneak under your shirt, and going up to your ribs, stopping right under your breasts.

"Is this okay?" she ask in between kisses

"Yes" you hummed in response

You could feel her smile against your lips as you let out a moan when she groped your tits through your bra. Then, her lips dipped to your neck as her hands made their way under your bra.

Before she could go any farther, you pushed her slightly away.

"Wait- let's go to my room"

You grabbed her hand and led her to your bedroom.

As soon as you were in the room, she reached down for your shirt and took it off you before unclasping your bra and pushing you on your bed. She straddled you, and started to undo her belt with a smirk.

She grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, before tying them to the headboard with her belt, making sure it's not too tight.

Then, she sat up and looked down at you, biting her lip.

"Look at you; so pretty all tied up under me..." she whispered, brushing your cheek softly

She leaned in to kiss you once more, her hands sliding down to unbutton your jeans, before going back up to play with your now hard nipples. Again, her lips dipped down to your neck, where she sucked angry red marks.

This, and your nipples being rolled between her fingers made a series of moans leave your throat. You wanted to run a hand through her hair, but with her belt around your wrists, you couldn't move at all -which turned you on even more.

Your eyes flutter closed when you felt her lips wrapping around one of your nipples, and her tongue running over it, before she started sucking gently.

Your back arched slightly as you moaned her name, encouraging her to continue.

After a moment, she released your nipple with a 'pop'. You looked down just in time to see a string of saliva linking her mouth and your hard bud.

She smirked and kissed her way down your body, taking off your pants slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. She took her time, kissing the inside of your thighs, slowly getting closer to where you needed her the most.

You whined at the tease and rolled your hips slightly.

"Amber... please..."

"Please what, baby?" she teased more, sly smirk spread on her face

"Please I need you so bad... please fuck me..."

"How can I say no if you ask so nicely?" she hummed, sliding your underwear down your legs and throwing it somewhere in the room

She looked down at your dripping cunt with a hungry gaze and licked her lips before diving in to get a taste of you.

She hummed against you, loving the way you tasted on her tongue. She hooked her arms around your thighs, keeping you in place while she ate you out.

Her tongue was driving you crazy, you were a moaning mess, and felt you wear already close to the edge. But all of a sudden, she stopped.

You let out a frustrated whine at the sudden loss of contact and pleasure, before she placed her index on your lips.

"Shhh... Don't worry, I'm not done with you"

She quickly replaced her index with her middle and ring finger, which she pushed into your mouth gently.

"Now be a good girl and get my fingers wet"

You complied, and once she was satisfied, pulled her fingers out of your mouth to slide them into your pussy, eliciting another moan from you, before starting to thrust in and out at a fast pace.

If you thought her tongue was skilled, her fingers were even more. She hit all the right spots and curled her fingers just right.

You were so overwhelmed with the pleasure that you couldn't even form a coherent sentence. But she didn't need you to say it to know you were close; she could feel you tighten around her fingers in the most pleasant way possible.

She stopped marking your soft skin and brought her other hand to your throat, squeezing slightly, while her thumb was circling your clit in rhythm with her thrusts.

"Cum all over my fingers, don't hold back"

You came hard, in a white blur, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed in.

Amber continued to fuck you through your high, watching you with a lustful look in her eyes. She had waited so long for that. She had dreamt of it so many times, and now you were truly hers, looking oh so pretty coming undone under her.

When she pulled away, you had recovered enough to see her shove her fingers in her mouth and lick them clean, before leaning in to kiss you lovingly and untying your hands.

"Ready for round 2?" she asked with a smirk

"Fuck yeah" you replied, already taking off her shirt

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

It had been almost a year since Amber and you were together, and only a few months since Stab 8 was released. Let's just say that you were thrilled to go to the movies together, and that you were terribly disappointed.

You both thought the movie was terrible.

"What are you doing?" you asked gently as you rolled over to your girlfriend, who was scribbling on a paper at the other end of her bed

"I was thinking... Maybe we could do our own Stab movie? Or at least do things to give the producers better ideas. What do you think?"

"What do you have in mind?"

She gave you a slight smirk as she turned to you and exposed her plan.

"So let me get this straight; you want to kill your friend to force her sister -the daughter of Billy Loomis- to come back here, and then kill everybody and blame it on her?"

"That's the idea" she replied, visibly excited "Are you in?"

You sighed and shook your head.

"What wouldn't I do for you, huh?" you smiled and cupped her cheeks to place a soft kiss on her lips "Are you sure we have to kill Tara though? She's my favorite out of all your friends... And if she dies her sister won't necessarily come back"

"You're right! So we just attack her then. Or I just attack her, I don't want to force you into hurting/killing people. I'll do the killing, and you'll make the calls if you want" she offered

"I don't want to let you do all the dirty stuff..."

"Don't worry about that, baby"

She smiled and kissed you again, this time pushing you into the mattress, unbuttoning your jeans and slipping a hand into your underwear with a smirk.

"I don't mind doing the dirty stuff"

Surprisingly, so far, everything went as planned; Amber attacked Tara, her sister cam back to Woodsboro, and the killing spree was continuing. The only thing that wasn't planned on was Sam's boyfriend, but he was just another pawn to kill.

"You ready babe?" Amber asked, adjusting her mask "I kill Judy and Wes, and then I'll go to the hospital to attack Tara and you"

"Don't forget to slash my arm -not too hard if possible!"

You helped her, and pressed your lips at the top of the black mouth of the Ghostface mask as a good luck kiss.

Once again, nothing went wrong. Until the moment where Amber was supposed to slash your arm.

When Tara saw Ghostface behind you, you turned around, just as planned, and lifted your arms up to 'protect' yourself. But instead of feeling the blade on your arm, you felt it sink in your stomach.

Your eyes widened, and you tried to kick her away, a hand on your wound to stop the bleeding.

Why did she do that? you thought, grabbing Tara's wheelchair to head to the elevator. That's not the plan!

Before you could reach it, you got thrown into the nearest wall, hitting your head hard against it.

The shock had the world spinning around you; you struggled to stand properly.

Ghostface took that opportunity to make Tara fall of her wheelchair and was ready to stab her when Sam and Dewey arrived.

You were waiting for Amber to come to the hospital after a nurse called her to warn her you had been hurt. You had so many questions.

When she finally arrived, she looked concerned, worried. She wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.

"What happened?" she asked

"I don't know, you tell me. You were supposed to slash my arm, not stab me in the stomach...!" you whisper-shouted

"It wasn't me, Y/n..."

You blinked, and pulled away to look at her, confused.

"Fuck you mean it wasn't you...?"

"I couldn't make it to the hospital in time, my car broke down... I never would've hurt you baby..."

She hugged you tighter after saying this.

"If it wasn't you... there's another Ghostface in town..." you whispered

"That's a bad thing for our plan..."

"Not necessarily... If they get caught, we can get away with the previous killings. The police will think they did it too... And we'll be out of suspicions!"

"Yeah but what about our big finale...?"

"Well have to pass on that, I'm sorry my love... But think about it, we'll be the first Ghostface to have survived!"

"You're right baby, both of us living is better than having our ending"

She smile and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Who do you think it is?"

"Hm... It can't be Tara, that's for sure. I don't it's Sam either, or Chad"

"So that leaves Mindy and Liv..."

"And Sam's boyfriend, don't forget about him"

"You’re right, I don’t like him. He didn’t give me a good vibe"

You nod at her words.

"What do we do now? Do we still throw the party?"

"Yeah. If the other Ghostface is a Stab fan too, he’d never miss the occasion to recreate the og party in Stu Macher’s house"

Amber drove you to her house and you both got ready for the party. You had already stolen Tara's spare inhaler when you were in her room before being attacked, so you were sure she would come to Amber's.

And as expected, half an hour after the party begun, Sam, Richie and her came. Your girlfriend dismissed everyone else, and led Tara upstairs to look for her inhaler, leaving you with Sam and Richie.

Mindy was in the living-room, you heard her talk to Liv a few minutes ago, and Chad should be near too.

Sam received a phone call, and Richie walked towards the living-room. You decided to follow him, pretexting you had to rest.

"I'm gonna get some beer, anyone wanna come with me?" he asked after you sat next to Mindy

"No, but you were right to ask!" she replied, her eyes not leaving the tv screen

So he went to the basement alone while you stayed with Mindy watching Stab. When the scene of Randy being attacked arrived, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

While Mindy was busy screaming at Randy to turn around, you looked behind you, just in case.

Ghostface was behind Mindy, ready to stab her. You pulled her away from the knife right before she could get hurt badly, but her shoulder got slashed anyways.

You both screamed, hoping to get the others' attention while you tried to fight the killer. He managed to corner Mindy. You grabbed the lamp next to the sofa and slammed it on his head.

He didn't seem to like it, and punched you in the stomach, reopening your wound. You grunted in pain and pressed a hand on your bleeding stomach.

You were about to come at him again when Sam entered the room, scaring him away. You looked at each other and rush to Mindy, to make sure she was okay. She lost a lot of blood and passed out in Sam's arms.

A scream behind you made you jump. Amber and Tara just came downstairs. Sam opened her mouth to say something but got cut off by a sound of glass breaking; Richie was back, and just dropped his beers.

"Oh my god!" he said

"Where were you?" Sam asked him

"I was getting mor beer!"

"You went to the basement alone?" you girlfriend asked

"I asked them to come with me and they said no!" he replied, gesturing toward Mindy and you

"I was with Tara, and Y/n was with Mindy but the rest of you were wondering around. One of you is the fucking killer!" Amber spat

Liv suddenly barged into the room, looking panicked, hands covered in blood.

"Why is there blood on your hands?" Sam asked her

Liv looked down at her hands and seemed even more panicked.

"I- I found Chad..."

"Chad?"

"He's... he's..."

"You're the killer...!" Richie said

"No I-"

She looked at everyone in the room, seeking support, but neither of you knew if you could trust her.

"I'm not the fucking killer!" she finally yelled

"I know."

You all turned to Richie as he pulled out a gun and shot Liv in the head.

You felt someone grab your hand and drag you away as another gunshot resonated in the room. Amber pulled you upstairs, to her parents' room.

"Are you okay? God, you're bleeding again..."

She started looking for something to bandage you up with, but you stopped her.

"We don't have time, we need to kill him before he can do his speech about his motive, or he'll say that he didn't do the first killings..."

"But-"

"I'm okay, I promise" you reassured her "Let's just make it quick and I'll be fine"

She looked at you hesitantly for a second, before nodding and coming back next to you to place a soft kiss on your lips.

"What do we do now?" she asked

"Do you know where your dad hides his gun?"

Fortunately for the two of you, Sam stabbed Richie to death before he could say anything about another killer, after Amber shot him in the chest.

You made it to act 4, just like Jill Roberts 11 years ago. But you weren't going to screw everything up like she did, no.

And that's how you became the first Ghostface to get away with it, to make it to act 5.

#scream #scream 5 #amber freeman #amber freeman x fem reader #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman smut #amber freeman x reader smut

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hannahlovesluca · 5 months

Text

Sleep

| warnings: nothing i dont think

| genre: fluff

| summary: 😴😴

Ike knew when he joined Nijisanji En, he would have to keep things professional with his co-workers. However, Ike was always one to tease people for fun. He's sure most of the others were annoyed by this (specifically you), but he couldn't help it. Ike's just a very playful person and it's his personality. He knows it's annoying, but it's part of who he is, he has no control over it!

That being said, he’s never been flirty, well except with you. He loves teasing you. And you love it too. But he knows better than to be flirty with anyone else.

He doesn't know why, but something about you caught his eye.

It might've been your sweet face and your innocent eyes, that made him want to corrupt you. Or the way you'd get shy whenever he'd look at you, but you'd still hold your ground. Maybe it was the fact that you were just the cutest little thing, you made him feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. Or maybe it was how you'd give him a pouty face and look up at him with big puppy eyes when he was being too much, and he couldn't say no.

Whatever the reason, it made him flirt with you. And boy, did he enjoy the way your face would get all red and how you'd turn your head away from him.

"You're so cute." He'd laugh.

"Stop it, Ike-senpai." You'd say, trying to act annoyed.

"I can't help it. You're adorable!"

You'd just roll your eyes and continue to try to ignore him.

Even when he was streaming for his almost one million fans, he would keep at the flirtiness.

But there was a day, that everything changed.

It was after a long day of streaming for your fans, and you were feeling exhausted. Ike invited you to come and hang out in Discord voice call with him.

"Hey, Ike, I don't really wanna do anything right now."

"Oh, why not?" He asked, with a fake pout.

"I'm just really tired from the stream. Can we please just watch a movie together or something?"

"Okay, but we're not watching that cheesy crap you like."

"You like those movies too, shut up!"

The two of you ended up watching an action movie, but it wasn't long until you got sleepy. Ike noticed the change in your breathing and your soft snoring, which caused him to giggle.

"Y/N? Are you awake?"

The no response he gets answers his question well enough.

"So you are asleep, hm?"

He can't help the smirk on his face as an idea comes into his head.

"You know, you look even cuter when you're sleeping."

"You know, you've got such a pretty mouth. It'd look even prettier if I could kiss it."

"You're always so fun to mess with, you know that? It's nice to have a playmate like you around."

"It's not fair how adorable you are."

"Maybe I should tell you how cute you are while you're sleeping. Do you want me to?"

Ike doesn't expect any kind of response. But when he gets one, his heart stops.

"Yes, please." You mumble, having been faking your sleep.

Your voice is soft and quiet, but he hears it clearly.

#luca kaneshiro #ike eveland #nijisanji en #shu yamino #luxiem #mysta rias #vox akuma #luxiem x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland x reader #nijien #nijisanji #hannahlovesluca

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socksandbuttons · 3 months

Text

Swap AU Stuff

Alright let's jsut try getting down basics maybe

Also this maybe long actually.

The obvious Swaps Lunar and Eclipse: Basically how we meet them in episode. I legit went along with thinking this Eclipse wasn't memory wiped the whole time so thats kinda- in the air a bit. But Lunar being the original body (I have a post showing how Eclipse looked then), Eclipse with the one he made (to be taller. He can't stand being small... Well shorter than anyone really. A shame he has Bloodmoon towering over him.) The Glamrocks: They are as Swapped so Chica is Freddy, Freddy is Roxy, Roxy is Monty and Monty is Chica (I love them immediately after giving them luscious hair im sorry). Rox and Sun are friends and he's quite protective of Sun, also a cowboy cause swap au/Foxy etc. Digi in the discord came up with this and i died cause it was so good actually. Eclipse and Lunar still go thru the whole October Arc with Moon and Sun. Moon being far more quiet but aggressive. Made Sun to hinder Eclipse. Let me paste my lil paragraph i had in discord

"Sun likely has more denial about moons treatment of him, however like lunar he does start questioning if its good for moon to get the star (like sort of getting the Moon Wont Stop so i need to do something he might hurt himself etc) plus lunar and eclipses treatment of sun would be a huge factor too, eclipse obviously is terrible at communcating and while he's a bit of a jerk, realizing sun might be in danger or hurt is something he might catch on faster. maybe. im thinking anyway sun catches attachment to both that outweighs his denial of moon being terrible actually. he's still grasping at things even well after. doesnt realize he gets awful panic attacks until someone points it out actually. and then i lost my train of thought but moon still loved sun just…. very clearly was not the forefront of his goals tho. feels very betrayed by sun after and likely wont fogrive sun. vs sun whos too willing to forgive despite his anxiety screaming at him NOT TO. i just wanna show a different thing to this cause lunar recognized halfway into october and let moon handle the rest and recognizes that eclipse was hurting him much sooner than sun wouldve (see the… current sun. og sun recognizes now but it truly took him a WHILE, communication Real now.)" Anyway, Sun does end up getting adopted by both Eclipse and Lunar. He's never gonna be taller than Eclipse. But as mentioned he's got a lot of things to work through about Moon (Roxy will kick so much ass for him.) Generally trying to grasp that yeah no it was pretty fucked up of Moon to do anything to Sun. Now the timeline gets a lil weird beyond this because like KC would've also been in this plot. KC unlike our Bloodmoon, is actually far smarter (Im sorry to bm fans), he DOES work with Sun but generally more for his benefit of getting rid of Moon. He doesn't really need to be bribed for this actually. Imagine KC being so pissed about Moon showing up in his systems and hes LIKE WTF MAN. Zappity Zap Zap Double Dee Moon Anyway Cue Bloodmoon arriving. And like bloodmoon does- He does technically hold Eclipse hostage but gets bored. So there is mild agreement. Bloodmoon does what KC did and FORCED themself out (like our OG boy!). They're uh... theyre not very keen on sticking around a daycare as fun as itd be to tear it up. They like lightly bully Sun but Roxy to the rescueee. Anyway, 'Does KC die in this au?' No he doesnt. He gets CLOSE to it but Bloodmoon just goes 'Hmn. nah son you're coming with me'. Lunar still feels incredibly bad about it though. Space arriving sooner actually more or less helps like avoid some certain issues here and there. Unlike Earth where she arrives much later (due to be literally distracted.) Space goes directly to the daycare. Thus kinda- changing some bits. He does meet Bloodmoon, hates him though. 'Why aren't you thinking this through' 'We wanna see how much they scream' 'You'll be electrocuting yourself before you get the chance' '...That means Eclipse gets electrocuted?' 'Put down. the fork.' KC handles Bloodmoon with much exasperation. Bloodmoon picked up this sucker and went 'our Spawn'. Baffles KC. Space ends up meeting Crater, Moon got annoyed with Space's presence being literally really hard to work around. Sends Crater, Crater and Space get along well enough that it wasn't Moon intention but this works too. Space (theres irony here) gets concerned with Crater and her not viewing herself with autonomy. She is still just a 'basic AI' as she puts it. Does what she's told. Bloodmoon doesn't really use her just kinda shoo's her off to Space or Eclipse. 'No you're no fun-' 'I have told to monitor you' 'WE DIDNT ASK MOON FOR A BABYSITTER' 'I am programmed to defend' 'We dont need defending either' 'You are still vunerable' '...Go away' 'Affirmative. Destination please?' 'DAYCARE'

Anyway How do i sum this up. Roxy and Sun are besties Lunar and Sun vibe. Eclipse is soft with Sun.

Bloodmoon has claimed ONE child. Doesn't really claim Moon but thats a later thing. Moon and KC despise one another.

KC didn't really want this fatherly figure but he begrudgingly accept them. Funny things happen with these three. Bloodmoon doesn't become pacifist, just more or less moves away dragging KC with them. A little bitter at Lunar's murder attempt but its fine. No one died there but heavily maimed.

Eclipse and Moon still ultimately hate one another. There is a Swap version of Solar thats Moon and- we'll get confused so just know its out there. Space and Crater are good friends and partly why both end up questioning their existence but both support pillars to one another that it just kinda isn't as devastating. Unless someone dies. Crater does end up having her own personhood, Moon does get attached to her even if he doesnt admit it. Space doesn't question creator enough but Crater does and vice versa. Bloodmoon(s) does have a name but ill reveal that later??? idk

#sun and moon show #tsams au #sams swap au #myart #swap crater #swap space #sams sun #sams lunar #sams eclipse #sams moon #swap roxy

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collapsedglasshouses · 2 months

Text

Like The Movies || Vinny Mauro x fem!Reader [Part 2]

SUMMARY: After the events on the couch, Y/n doesn't know how to talk to her best friend anymore and decides to call him late at night, with a different outcome than expected.

WARNINGS: smut, MDNI, phone sex, masturbation, mutual pining, friends to fwb sorta, …

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @jilliemiw86 @dominuslunae

A/N: Whoa, so this took longer than I expected but here is the long awaited Part Two. I'm planing on writing a third final part but don't ask me when it will come out, idk yet sorry c: also this isnt proofread :c

You couldn’t even remember a time where Vinny and you hadn’t been best friends. In all those years you always had been each other’s comfort zone. Nothing ever had the power to separate the bond you two had created. Except the two of you yourself of course.

At the moment, you were nervously fidgeting with your fingers while waiting for Vinny to get into his car. You had spent the evening at Ricky’s house for a small birthday celebration and everything had seemed normal. You had walked there since the weather had been pretty good, but it had gotten pretty late, and nobody was comfortable with you walking home at this point, so Vinny, being your best friend and neighbor, had offered to drive you.

Nothing about this seemed out of the usual for the others, but you were almost shaking with nervousness. It had already been a week since the events on your couch and nobody had dared to say a word about it. It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked at all. Everything seemed normal, except the two of you tapping around the obvious elephant in the room. You felt like you were being tortured for seven days straight at this point. You didn’t know how Vinny could act so calm about the whole thing, while you were about to explode into a million pieces.

Your thoughts were consumed by him. It felt like your brain had been wired differently since that night. All you could think about was Vinny. It wasn’t only the sexual scene that happened literally in front of your eyes. It was everything. His voice, his smile, the way he made you laugh. Everything.

Once Vinny had said his goodbyes to everyone left and slipped inside his car, it was just the two of you left. You instantly felt how goosebumps started to form on your skin when you inhaled the faint smell of his perfume. You felt how your heart was racing just with him near you and you were sure you were about to go insane, rather sooner than later.

The car ride was quiet, the only sound coming from Vinny tapping along to the music on the steering wheel. You tried not to look to closely at his hands, since even that gave you a warm feeling in your stomach. Your mind wondered back to that night. After receiving that text from Vinny, you felt like you were on fire. You had tried to ignore it, but it was hard. Vinny had called you that night and you streamed one of this dinosaur documentaries as if nothing had happened. As if you hadn’t watched each other cum. You had decided after that, that you needed to push your feelings away even further.

You really tried not to think about it too much. You didn’t even know what to expect from that situation.

So now, a week later, you were sitting in your shared driveway and stared straight ahead. You had never been more unsure of anything in your life like you were right now, and it hurt you, because Vinny was the one stable thing in your existence, and you had collectively decided to ruin it because of the heat of the moment.

Right as Vinny took a breath to say something, you snapped out of your thoughts. “Thanks. Good night.”

With that you sprinted out of his car and into your house, fearing for a second, he would go after you.

Two hours later you sat on your bed and toyed with your phone in your hand. Your thoughts were eating you alive. You didn’t know what came over you when you opened the Discord App to check for the fifth time if he was still online.

“Fuck, he’s still Vinny. Don’t be so childish.” You mumbled to yourself before you touched the call button.

Almost instantly you heard his voice on the other end. “To what do I owe the honor?”

You felt like you were frozen into your place. His voice alone made you crumble into pieces.

“Hi.” You mumbled shyly.

“Hi back.” He answered you and mimicked your shy undertone. You weren’t sure if he was trying to mock you.

“So… What’s up?” Vinny asked again, now in a more relaxed tone while you felt stiffer than ever.

“I-… You know… I-…” You began to stumble over your words, regretting you hadn’t thought about what to say to him before calling.

“Yeees?” He teased you and you knew he was grinning slightly. You wanted nothing more than to walk over and slap it out of his pretty face.

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is, Vin!” You almost cried into your phone and ran a hand through your hair.

It was silent for a long time.

“Did you think about it?” He suddenly asked into the void.

“Think about what?” You breathed out, knowing exactly what he meant but not wanting to give it away.

“That night.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your body. You didn’t think the subject would turn this fast.

“You mean if I thought about you touching yourself in front of me?” You boldly asked, smiling slightly at your sudden and unexpected confidence.

“Uhm… Something like that.” Vinny almost stuttered, causing your smile to become even broader.

It was silent again.

“And?”

“Have you?” You asked him and leaned back on your bed.

“I asked first.” – “I asked second.”

You felt like your heart was going to explode out of your chest any second. Never in your entire life had you been more turned on simple by the tone of the voice of someone.

“I have.” Vinny answered after a short while, his voice way raspier than it was before.

“Me too.” You mumbled and immediately your mind snapped back to that night. You just couldn’t get this picture out of your head. Vinny, with his hand wrapped around his hard member, breathing out your name between slight moans.

“Did you touch yourself today?” Vinny than asked with slight hesitation in his voice.

“I haven’t…” You answered and immediately became bold again. “Yet.”

“Do you want to?” Vinny asked. You bit your lip for a second, trying to suppress the smile forming on your face.

“I plan to… Yeah.”

“You want any help?” He mumbled casually as if he was offering to help you clean your house or something.

“You can’t come over. I have to get up early tomorrow.” You answered him honestly and hoped you didn’t scare him away with your comment. You wanted him to come over, but you knew it would ruin the last bit of sleep you would get.

“Noone said anything about coming over.” He answered you and you could picture the grin that was plastered on his face in said moment. You wanted to scream into your pillow.

“What are you thinking about?” You whispered sweetly into your phone while settling deeper into your pillow.

“Did you mean it when you said you wanted me to touch you?” Vinny wanted to know, ignoring your question. Blood rushed in your ears as you remembered the moment, when you exclaimed you wanted it to be his fingers instead of yours.

You opened your legs beneath your blanket and let your hand ran down your body.

“Yes, I did mean it.” You breathed out. “Did you want me to touch you?”

“Fuck… Of course. Have you looked at yourself?” Vinny almost moaned out and you were sure he was touching himself at this point, so your hand started to travel between your thighs.

Your heart stutters at his low voice.

“I hoped you would say that.” You whispered into the phone. Vinny let out a low laugh.

“If I’m being honest, the last couple of times weren’t the first time, I thought of you while masturbating but god… I can’t get you out of my mind anymore.” Vinny explained with so much honesty in his voice that you couldn’t help yourself but to touch your most sensitive spot.

“When you were thinking of me…what was I doing?” You asked him, realizing your voice became breathier at this point.

“If I’m being honest, it’s the little things. How you look in your favorite dress, how you look when you bend down, how your cheeks get red every time someone slightly compliments you.” He answered you and let out a small hum after that.

“Really? Just that?” You asked him, shocked about how just simple gestures could turn him on.

“No. Today I came so hard while thinking of you being under me. Moaning out my name.” He answered as you circled your clit a bit faster. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of him thinking about you while masturbating and then going to meet you right after that.

“Oh, Vinny.” You breathed out.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” He teased you. “What about you?”

“I thought about your hands.” You honestly exclaimed. “I mean… You play the drums like a fucking god. Can’t help myself thinking about how your fingers would feel inside of me.”

Another groan came from Vinny, and you let your finger swirl around your clit.

“Oh yeah? Gosh, I wonder how your pussy feels like.” He said with a serious tone, but you can’t help but giggle.

“What?” – “That’s what the guy said in the porn, too.”

“As far as I can remember, you liked that pretty much.” He teased you.

“I wasn’t denying it.” You answered him with a smile on your face and let a finger sink into your hole.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” Vinny stumbled out shyly.

“Of course, I am and I know you’re doing it, too.” You moaned.

You heard some shuffling noises and couldn’t help but think about him sitting in front of his computer with his hand around his cock.

“If you keep making these noises, I will come over.” Vinny breathed out on the other line while your pace became faster.

“Maybe I want you to.” – “I value your sleep, darling.”

‘Darling’… He was driving you insane.

“I wish that was my hand on your cock right now.” You moaned into your phone.

“You have no fucking clue, do you? The effect you have on people.” His breathing was getting more prominent, and you felt your own pick up.

“Or my mouth.” You whispered after his statement and heard him moan. Tension started to form in your stomach, another finger sinking into you.

“Vinny.” You gasped and he moaned into your ear through the phone. Your fingers curled up onto the sweet spot you’d found while thinking of his hard cock. You wanted to feel him so bad.

“Please tell me you’re close, Y/n.” He almost whined out.

“I am.” You moaned into your phone, chasing your high.

“I want to feel you so bad.” Vinny whined, speaking out your own thoughts. “I can hear how wet you are for me.”

“Oh god.” You exhaled as your hips started to stutter. “Fuck, Vinny.”

“It’s like I had a taste of the forbidden fruit. I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned.

“Have me then.” You whine out, your voice weak and laced with unsaid words. Everything neither of you had dared to say before.

Your hips buck against your hand as you cried out. “God, Vinny!”

“Are you cumming?” His voice so determined and raw but all you could do was nod, though he couldn’t see you. Though, you didn’t have to say something. Your breaths revealed the truth.

“Fuck…that was…oh fuck,” you tried to answer him as you started to come down from your orgasm, still not in full control of your body functions.

“You sound so fucking good. I just… Gosh, Y/n...” You could imagine how he started to thrust his hips slightly upwards, cum coating his hand.

You hear him shuffle again and breathe heavily into his microphone just as your head became clearer again.

It was silent for a longer period of time. Both of you trying to contain your thoughts.

Suddenly you began to feel nervous.

“That was-…” Vinny breathed out.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you-…” – “Yeah, I should probably get some sleep.”

“See you tomorrow?” He quietly asked. “You could come over and we could watch a movie or something. Tomorrow night?”

Your heart started to beat heavily again. It would be the first time you would be around each other alone since the evening after he came back from tour, and you started to wonder how it would go.

“See you tomorrow, Vin.”

“Good night, darling.”

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#motionless in white fanfiction #vinny mauro x fem!reader #vinny mauro x reader smut #vinny mauro x you #vinny mauro fanfiction #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny mauro smut #vinny mauro fic #collapsedglasshouseswrites

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