#WE CAN PAIR THEM IN THEIR SHIP AH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secretwritingspot · 5 months

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Too Much (Take Me Home)

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: okay so I have no idea how to rate this. Like this is definitely not PG but it's also not really nsfw?? Honestly I'd recommend just reading the summary and deciding for yourself from there.

Summary: Reader is a sub who, due to the nature of y'know like being on a pirate ship constantly has not had a single chance to relax in weeks, especially since they don't really know any of their crewmates like that. Sanji steps in to save the day.

Disclaimer(s): so funny story - this is the single kinkiest thing I've written for this blog. And yet. It is also the least sexual thing I've written for this blog, that being not sexual at all. This is purely mentally-ill wish fulfillment emotional hurt-comfort d/s fluff. None of those words are in the bible but we persist nonetheless. A lot of d/s themes but like soft d/s if that makes sense, undernegotiated kink (there's definitely communication and it's p healthy but they're both idiots your honor), some petplay if you squint? Like not really but reader is on their knees and he calls them puppy a few times so do with that what you will.

There's a surprising amount of paperwork that comes with being the ship's chef.

One would think Sanji was always on his feet, whipping up something new- and yet here he is, late at night, sitting at a table that feels nautical miles away from where he really wants to be, the galley. But this was a part of the job- to catalogue ingredients, new recipes, what he could make and on what day for their supplies to last until the next town.

He's used to it being a solitary job, but then there's footsteps and a knock at the doorframe of his room and you walk in, shy uncertainty in your voice.

"...Sanji?"

You weren't sure about this, about any of this. But you were exhausted in a way that sleep couldn't fix, and it was obvious to you as to why.

You were a sub. There, you admitted it, got that embarrassing information out of the way as quickly as possible.

You - strong, strategic, stoic you - had been spinning out for the last few days. It had been too long since you'd been able to go under, since you'd joined the strawhats, to be precise, and it was starting to wear on you.

There was only so long you could go like this, tough and detached, protecting everyone else, taking care of the rest of your crew before yourself. It was constant, on the Merry. You really should've seen that coming with it being a pirate ship and all, but you felt like you had no room to breathe. Wake up, save the day, plan, eat and sleep only to keep your energy up to do it again the next day. You were always on, always performing the most capable version of yourself, and it was starting to wear you thin.

Sanji, for all his care and attention, hadn't seemed to notice. Even now, when you'd come to him like this. For that, a part of you was thankful.

He can't even hope to hide the way his face lights up when you walk in, quickly grabbing a towel next to him and wiping off his hands on instinct, like there should be oil or cooking wine or flour on them. There isn't, but other times there is. And there will be again, eventually. Better safe than sorry, he supposes.

"What could possibly bring such an angel down to me so late?"

He questions with a charming smile, cocking his head at you fondly. You roll your eyes at his immediate antics, blushing.

"Ah. Straight to business, huh?"

You laugh nervously, looking away and scratching the back of your neck with a sheepish blush.

"...can I stay with you? While you work?"

He squints at you curiously and then nods, smile blooming on his face the way it always does when you're around. For such a simple request, he doesn't know why you look so embarrassed.

Sure, the signs of embarrassment aren't as obvious on someone like you- but he can still see them. The way your eyes avoid his, the slight awkwardness in your stance as you shift on your feet.

"Of course, love. I'd never turn down your wonderful company."

You take a relieved breath and nod, looking down. For a moment you stand still, trying to make your feet move. Is this really such a good idea?

You take the leap before you can second guess yourself, walking over to where he sits at the desk. You pass the other seats and he squints curiously, having expected you to take one. Instead, you come straight to his, sinking down to your knees next to him and sitting back on your heels, resting your head on the side of his thigh.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

His eyes widen when you settle on the floor next to him, his face a pink hue as he looks down at you. Still, he didn't move. Instead, he gently brushes some of your hair back, looking at you with confusion.

"Are you...what are you doing, love?"

You swallow thickly, blinking your eyes back open to look up at him pleadingly, face pink.

"...can I stay here? I- I'll explain if you want, I promise, just...please."

He chuckles, an intrigued little smile gracing his features as he looks down at you nods. "Go ahead, explain. You can stay here as long as you'd like, darling."

"I need..."

You start to speak before backing up your explanation, embarrassment showing in the way your speech jumps back and forth between thoughts.

"I've been exhausted, recently. I'm sleeping fine, I just...sometimes I need to- to relax a certain, uh- a certain way. And since we've been on the ship, I haven't been able to, uh..."

You squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment, taking a deep breath and turning to press your face against his thigh to hide your blush.

"...subspace. I'm- I'm a sub. And I haven't been able to go into subspace for a while, and I know this is a lot to ask you and I'm sorry, I just- I need to be like this for a while, please."

Immediately, your behavior starts to make sense. It would be hard to be a sub on a crew like this, constantly having to fight and stay in control. You likely haven't had the chance to submit to anyone in ages, if only for safety reasons. After all, you're all wanted. But with the natural way you dropped to your knees below him, put your head on his thigh like second nature, it all clicks.

He looks at you for a moment and blinks, his expression unreadable.

"...I think I understand what you mean. You want to be good for me, yes? I don't mind that, you know. You're quite pretty like this." He gently drags the back of his hand across your face with a smile before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Sweet thing."

You shiver at his words and nod in confirmation, letting your head fall back to the side to rest against his thigh.

This is...it's the last thing he'd expect from you, really. You're so tough and capable and independent, so the fact that you're a sub? The more he thinks about it the more it makes him blush- that someone like you was even capable of submitting, let alone craved it, let alone again would come to him, pleading for him to let you kneel at his feet for a while as he works. He gently runs a hand along your back, the corner of his mouth twitching as he smirks.

"I want you to stay like this until you're satisfied, alright darling?" He smiles and takes a look back at the paperwork on the table "...Are you comfortable there?"

You nod, heart fluttering when he says he wants you to stay like this until you feel better. It's sweet and gentle and so very Sanji, but at the same time, it sounds almost like an instruction. Like a command. It makes your cheeks flush and your mind stop whirring for a second in a way you'd missed so badly from when friends or partners who knew about your submissiveness back on land would put you under. The comfort of not having to think of anything besides doing what you're told- being good, always being good. You'd missed this.

"I need you to relax for me, okay? Just...focus on enjoying yourself, yeah? I have to get this work done, so I'm counting on you to stay right here. Can you do that for me?"

You nod almost immediately and he grins at the obedience, going back to his work with a satisfaction mirrored in you.

Something to do. A task. Something to be good at, good enough to make him proud. It settles your mind as you lean your head against him, the slight twinge of pain from kneeling on the wooden floor grounding you pleasantly.

He could get used to this, he thinks- you sitting at his feet next to him like a puppy, one of his hands scratching through your hair absentmindedly as he works through his paperwork and supply numbers. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as he works, the sound of parchment paper a pleasant constant. Your breathing was also rather soothing, a nice background to his quiet humming as he writes. He feels as though he could listen to it all night and never grow tired of it.

He makes a mental note of how each different touch effects you- cataloging your reactions, what you like, what seems to make your mind dissolve. He finds a particular sweet spot behind your ears that leaves you a shivering puddle when he scratches softly with his nails, a spot at the crown of your head that makes you purr, that any light touch closer to your neck provokes a wobbly, ticklish smile but that you don't make any move to stop him. You seem completely zoned out, dazed and pliant and warm under his fingers.

A minute passes like that, then five, then ten. He looks back down to check on you and feels his heart stall in his chest.

"Oh, darling..." He whispers softly, blushing at the sight of you. Hazy and dazed with near-reverence in your eyes. He stops writing, setting down the pen and reaching down to lift your chin up, looking you directly in the eyes.

"Look at me. Please."

You perch your chin on his thigh obediently to look up at him from your position on the floor. It's the most relaxed he's ever seen you- shoulders dropped like a tremendous weight's been lifted from you, limbs like lead as doe eyes blink up at him blearily, expression glazed-over and vulnerable and soft, softer than he thought you were capable of.

You were a tremendous warrior, someone feared across the seas, and yet your head was on his thigh, sitting at his feet below him.

You, who could kill him in a fraction of a second if you wanted.

He sighs, a little breathless. He's so tempted to lean down and kiss you, but he shakes his head slowly. Not now, not yet. There's something else he needs to do first.

His hand runs through your hair as he looks into your eyes almost like a nurse would with a concussed patient, checking up on you to make sure you're okay.

"Can you speak? It doesn't have to be a lot, just...say something for me, love."

"C'n speak."

You answer softly, obedient nearly to a fault, your usually confident voice gone soft and mumbly. It's perfect. Christ, all of it is perfect.

"'verything's just kinda...fuzzy right now. 's okay, it's nice."

His eyes are glued to you as his hand gently runs through your hair, scratching behind your ear. There's something on his mind, something he can't quite place or figure out yet.

"You look so beautiful right now." He admits gently, his voice still a low whisper. "Can you tell me why- why you're like this?"

Well, wasn't that a hell of a question? Why are you - always that emphasis in your head, though he doesn't mean it like that - of all people, why are you?

A few moments pass before you say anything. You don't really know what you would say, not until it's already coming out of your mouth.

"...cause 'm not allowed to be."

It's the only answer you can think of when you can finally convince yourself to speak.

"I- I have to know everything. All the time. Be in charge and make the tough decisions and stay on top of everything and make sure everyone's okay-"

The words come slowly at first, but the longer you speak the quicker they spill out, rambling like it's something that's been festering for weeks that you desperately need to get off your chest.

You cut yourself off with a deep breath when you realize the breakneck speed with which you're ranting, simplifying your answer down to it's most basic terms.

"...I don't get to be weak."

He can't help but feel his breath catch at that reply. "I don't get to", like it's something you want but aren't allowed. He can so easily see that side of you now that you mentioned it, but he'd always just ignored it. It seemed inconsequential. Like that part just...wasn't you.

It strikes him then that that was probably on purpose, on your part. You wanted them to disregard it.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he recontectualizes all your stress, all the moments of you snapping at the crew over little slights, the more curious he gets as to how and why you got to be like this in the first place.

"There isn't anything weak about this." he pushes back sternly as soon as he can get his voice to work. "This is...this is the most courageous thing I could imagine. I'm so proud of you."

The words hit you like a brick and you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath as they play on repeat in your head.

"I'm so proud of you."

You can feel yourself crumbling at his affection, the voracity of his care. How adamant he is about understanding that sometimes you just needed to be below someone else.

He cups your cheek in his hand softly, angling your face to look up at him. The more you let your guard down, the warmer his chest feels looking at you. He'd never seen you open up this much, it makes his heart ache. He smiles at the sight of you looking up at him so prettily, lightly tapping the tip of your nose.

"...there you are."

The words are barely a whisper, full of pride and admiration and pleasant disbelief. It's a shame how much you try to prove your strength, your resilience when there isn't a reason for it.

You'd always been enough for him. Always been strong enough, tough enough, useful enough. Always, always, always.

You'd never needed to be anything more than who you were, and getting to see you like this...it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again.

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

All you can manage is a soft huff of breath, his words knocking the breath from your lungs. It's almost a sob, except that there are no tears. You have no idea why. Or why you almost sobbed in the first place. Why are there no tears?

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

The words cut through you like water. He still wants you? Even like this- emotionally stunted, a needy mess, pathetic and fragile and shaking?

"The way you are right now is nothing short of beautiful. Everything about you is lovely. It's...it isn't easy letting go like this, is it?" He muses, a hand resting on your hair, his thumb running along your face.

You sniffle quietly and blink back tears, nodding your head. It's progress even getting you to agree.

He knows you aren't upset by his words and so your unshed tears don't bother him. Knows that you aren't used to this, aren't going to be good at believing or accepting it immediately. He knows it'll take time to get to a place where words like that don't phase you anymore. So for now, your agreement is more than enough.

"...can we stay here for a while? Please?"

You break through his train of thought with a cautious whisper, voice small. A surge of pride shoots through him at your words, so fucking proud. If agreeing with his words is difficult, asking for what you want is worse. It's a hell of a first step.

"Of course we can. How long do you want to be like this, sweetheart?"

Ah. And there's the problem, isn't it? The "what do you want?" Really and truly, you have no idea.

"I don't mind much, it's..."

You trail off softly, hiding your face against his thigh in embarrassment as your blush spreads to the tips of your ears.

"...'s however long you want me to stay. It...it helps, letting you decide things for me."

The admission is a shy one, but it's not like it's something he couldn't've seen coming. It makes sense that instructions and praise would go hand in hand to make someone like you feel safe, small, protected.

"...I don't want you to move, okay?" He finally decides, lifting his hand from your hair to brush it behind your ear, fingernails scratching gently.

"Just let me take care of you for a while."

You take a deep breath at his words like the air's cleared for the first time in decades, finally having something to ground yourself on.

He makes a note of that in his head, too- you like a sense of order, when he makes decisions for you or gives you instructions to follow. Something simple that you can focus on even in your dazed, vulnerable state of mind, a task you can accomplish.

His hand continues to run through your hair gently, thumb making little figure 8's at the crown of your head.

"Do you want me to hold you? Or do you prefer being on your knees?"

He doesn't look at you when he asks, pen scratching away at his charts with his eyes on the table. Somehow, that helps- the idea that he's still working, that you're not too inconvenient of a distraction.

The simple choice you're given between two options makes everything feel easy and calm and hazy, and your voice is quiet when you answer.

"On- on my knees. Makes me feel more- more..."

You trail off, trying to explain but unable to find the words.

"More vulnerable." He finishes for you, smiling as it finally clicks. A position of submission, giving up your power to him.

Undoubtably, you're more vulnerable on your knees. You'd typically never let anyone near you in this state, not since you joined the strawhats, but with him, it feels...safe.

"I like it too." He admits, his hand still on you as his voice slowly trails off.

Your features smooth out in relief at his understanding and you nod, leaning into him and nuzzling his thigh for a moment to show your appreciation.

He has to look away for a moment, as seeing you nuzzle against him triggers an almost visceral reaction he wasn't expecting. His face flushes a bit more, a small smile brightening face as he leans in his chair, his expression adoring as he looks down at you. He reaches out for your ear, scratching gently at it with his fingernail.

You're so soft like this he swears he might fall in love.

"...can we do this more often, when you want to relax?"

Your eyes widen with a surprised blush at all the question as your brain shorts out for a moment.

He really...he's really willing to make this a regular thing? He isn't just doing this to humor you? It seems almost impossible to believe that this isn't some kind of weird burden you'd pushed onto him.

"...yeah. I'd- 'd like that."

You mumble breathlessly, clearing your throat as you look down.

He's already looking for another command, a simple task he can praise you for. Something about telling you what to do - you, who could slit his throat in an instant - he's quickly figuring out that he likes it. Quite a bit, actually.

He thinks back to the little things he's noticed about you- you prefer standing with your back to walls, facing the exit of whatever room you're in. You can only fall asleep when someone else on the crew is still awake. You're always chewing toothpicks, sucking on the end of your pen-

Wait.

Do you have an- could he- maybe...?

He hums in thought, grin spreading wider as he looks down at you once more. Gently, he lifts your chin so you're looking directly at him.

"Open your mouth," He instructs softly, almost in a whisper. Curious.

A soft blush blossoms across your ears but other than that you don't question it, far enough into subspace that all that matters is following instructions, being good. You don't even think before parting your lips obediently, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes. Like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

Bingo.

It was an oral fixation, your constant need to suck on a toothpick or the end of your pen. He couldn't fully understand, but he could relate- he always felt safer with a cigarette in his mouth.

He gently pushes his thumb in your mouth, taking a deep breath as he waits for your reaction to the audacious move. You wanted him to make you feel small, safe, vulnerable. He's more than happy to do that for you.

At your service, now and always.

Your blush spreads out to your cheeks and your eyes widen a fraction in surprise, but as soon as you manage to process that he really just did that, you close your lips gently around his thumb, eyes glazing over as you look up at him for approval.

You're so beautiful when you're like this, all raw and vulnerable and desperate to be good. He hums, eyes glued to you with a loving gaze as he takes in just how stunning you are in this moment.

"Submission suits you." He praises softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You're so...so sweet like this. So lovely when you don't think so much, puppy."

The last word is meant jokingly, gently poking fun at the way you're kneeling next to him, head on his thigh. Your reaction, though...that throws him. The way you squeeze your eyes closed and your blush darkens to a pure pink when he calls you "puppy", the way he can feel you whine around his thumb at the term as you melt, shoulders slumping- and that's certainly interesting, isn't it?

"Aww, puppy likes that, doesn't she?"

He can't help but smile as he takes his thumb out of your mouth for a moment before pushing two fingers in instead. Your cheeks flush when he does so, those puppy dog eyes glancing back at him with so much emotion it's almost overwhelming. The name is fitting, he supposes.

You flush further with embarrassment, though you know it makes no logical sense. Your mind doesn't seem to want to quiet itself, echoing judgements of your current position- weak, needy, pathetic. The shy feeling of poorly restrained shame claws up your chest even as you try to dismiss it. You shouldn't feel so embarrassed by this- Sanji clearly isn't bothered by it, doesn't think it's odd, hell, if anything he seems like he's enjoying himself. Yet you, brain all tied up in knots, can't seem to look at him.

So instead you try to focus on other things, like the comforting contrast of the warmth from his fingers and the cool metal of his ring pressing down softly on your tongue.

He can sense the embarrassment from you, though he can't understand it. He'd seen you at your worst, and this certainly wasn't it.

"...there's nothing wrong with allowing someone to take care of you, you know. I actually quite like seeing you like this." He says, the words falling out of his mouth before he even thinks.

Almost as if they'd been waiting to come out this whole time.

His reassurance only makes your blush intensify, but this time it's not bad.

It isn't shame, not really. It's more pleasantly flustering. If embarrassment were a spectrum, this...feeling would fall on the 'good' end of it.

Sensing it's a vulnerable topic, he lets the reassurance hang, not giving you enough time to think about it before changing the subject with a fond, knowing chuckle.

"You like the ring, don't you?"

He doesn't say, 'it gives you something to focus on so your mind doesn't wander too far' or 'the temperature brings you back down and grounds you here away from those nasty thoughts', but you both know that's what it is.

There's something warm in the way he so nonchalantly reveals that he's been cataloging every little detail of your reactions- the spot behind your ears, the fact you like being called 'puppy', and now the fact that you like the feeling of his ring pressing down on your tongue. Your mind is in enough of a submissive haze that you can't bring yourself to lie to him, instead nodding your head in agreement.

A small, fond smile graces his lips as his thumb moves up to your lower lip, gently prodding at your chin to bring your attention back to him.

"You can take breaks if you want. I know the ring's cold."

His voice is a warm, intimate whisper, eyes watching every movement you make, every twitch and hum catalogued in his mind.

The care in it makes your heart feel warm and you keep his fingers where they are, nipping lightly at him for a moment as if to let him know without words that you're enjoying this, that you don't need a break. It's so fucking cute his heart melts.

He can't help himself any more, pulling his fingers from your mouth. You nearly whine at the loss but then - then, oh, then - he presses a small, soft kiss to your lips and the whole world falls apart, his lips pressed tenderly to you as if you're something so much more than the sum of your parts. Your mind works on overdrive- it's such pure affection and approval and he kissed you, so that means you must've been good, right? That he was proud?

Little do you know, he's just as in awe as you are. In awe that you're really here with him, like this. That you'd ever let him do this. Everything about you is special to him, special because it's yours. Just like your eyes, the sound of your voice, the heart beating erratically in your chest. Before he can think about it he's pulling his ring off his finger, wiping the remains of your spit from it, and sliding it gently on your ring finger.

You cock your head up at him and squint in confusion and he smiles, voice soft like he's afraid anything stronger than a whisper would break the moment he's worked so hard for.

"Keep it, puppy. Then, next time you...need my help like this, you can give it back to me. Yeah?"

He punctuates his words by lifting your hand up like it's precious, placing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

The promise sparks a warmth in your chest, the casual mention of "next time" like there's no doubt at all in his mind that there will be a next time, the way he touches you like you're fragile, stares at you with pink cheeks and blown eyes like you're the sun and the moon and all the pinpoints in the night sky.

You should've jumped overboard when you had the chance, you think, because you've ended up drowning either way.

Eventually you can convince your muscles to work enough to nod, face blooming in fireworks of pink and orange and red as your words come back to you, though your voice is still small and hazy and breathless.

"...yeah, okay. Next time."

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla Sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n

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koiir · 8 months

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Match with me?

In which he gets you something to match with him

𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ Pairings; chigiri hyoma, reo mikage x gn!reader

𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ Genre/content; fluff, reo being smooth, not proofread

A/n; might do another part with more characters bc I honestly was just trying to get something published😭

𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ CHIGIRI HYOMA - matching bracelets

He would be the type to find those adorable matching bracelets online, either on instagram ect and spend so much time picking out a set… or someone he would love to make your own bracelets (an excuse for a date and so he can help you when needed) he would definitely be more affectionate with you since it’s an activity that is more hands on on.

“See? Aren’t they cute?”

Chigiri’s phone screen is filled with multiple pictures, those of bracelets for you two to match since you both have been wanting to get matching items for a while now. The bracelets being in the colors which are your favorites (since he remembered to take note of that)

Although your own concerns grow, not getting your hopes up incase so.

“And if they don’t ship here?”

“Then we can make our own”

His response seems almost natural, as if he knew already that you would ask that. As if he hasn’t already bought the charms need. Your expression is one of surprise, becoming flustered at his request.

“What about the red ones?”

“Mhm? Why red?”

“Uh…because it looks good on you?”

“You hardly wear red though.”

It seems he wants the perfect bracelets, just for you and him. Another picture is shown to you, including your favorite colors on each bracelets.

“What about these? That one is your favorite color?”

𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ REO MIKAGE - matching sets

The one who makes sure you both have something to match with, it doesn’t matter to reo if it’s clothes, jewelry, ect. He finds himself filled with excitement knowing you both have an item to remind yourselves of the other, always smiling at said item.

Your drink is the only thing keeping you comfort now, since reo had left away in hurry earlier. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so eager to go to a store…and what surprised you is that he didn’t take you with him.

Text!

Comeovernow

His words are fumbled together, rushing his text as if time is limited for you two. Even though you both have been at the mall for quite some time now. You look around, not remembering where reo had gone. Sending him a quick text, you immediately see his message pop up at the location.

Van Cleef.

You feel like heart is going to burst, the minute he sends you the text you rush towards the store—one that you have been dying to go to ever since you saw it.

Reo made sure to take note of the way your eyes scanned the store, remembering the times he would see you looking at a certain necklace online.

“See? They have the whole set!”

You hear his voice the minute you step foot into the store, seeing a grinning reo as he holds a necklace, bracelet, and ring laying on a soft velvet box. The three matching as you look closely, tracing your hand over them.

Reo takes this as a chance to hold your wrist catching you off guard, before he places the bracelet on you—even slipping the ring on as you become flustered. A smooth move of him

Now you find reo behind you as he clasps the necklace on you, revealing his hand to you.

“See? Now we’re matching even more.”

He points out the matching colors in your outfit, ah, that’s why he took a little longer to get ready…

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vemuabhi · 2 months

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I want a Boyfriend

Its march 2nd aka Sanji’s birthday everyone! (IST)

Happy Birthday Mr. Prince. My Crush of all time, My boyfriend in my dreams.

Hey Peeps! Please read the below story of mine and comment/reblog your opinions. I hope you like it!

Modern Universe

Pairing : Sanji X Reader

Warnings : Noting but fluff! Happy ending!

Word Count : 1.2K

I was listening to Selena Gomez - Boyfriend

Summary - Zoro plays Wingman!!

“Why can’t I find a date?”, you wined for the 5th time making a certain green head to get triggered.

“Oh Shut up Shut up Shut up!”, he leaned back on his chair hands still lingering on the laptop before him.

“What can I do? I am getting desperate. Especially after-”

“The Last situationship, you said it multiple times. I feel like I’m about to explode if you keep on doing this”, he huffed as you continued to work on your laptop.

Zoro, your colleague who became your best friend way too quickly. Though he seemed aloof and cold, he was a sweetheart who cares deeply and that was one of the reasons why you got attached to him. In the beginning he tried to make you talk with some of the guys in the office in a friendly way but you didn’t feel interested. Sure you were disparate but not ready to make mistakes again like you did in your previous relation and situation ships.

Leading on and giving false hope wasn’t how you dealt. Even if it was harsh, you preferred it and would prefer it if some thing of that sort happened to you.

“How many times have I introduced you to those other guys. And did you even try?”, he side eyed you then resumed to work. The way even after trying to make you meet new people, you didn’t even try but still complained made him irritated.

“Zoro, I’m sorry about that but… I didn’t find a connection with them, so I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time”.

Looking at your sad but sincere eyes he sighed and shook his head. “Whatever. Don’t be sad now”.

You gained back your smile at the grumpy man because he was so sweet to you. Though he was always mad he was a kind soul. Not all can know about that until they get to know him.

“I need a boyfrie-”

“GOD!”, he rolled his eyes at you as you chuckled, being happy that you managed to piss him off.

****

That day at lunch, Zoro was a bit late to join you because he was on a call. He furrowed his brows at you as you gave him a smirk.

“What?”

“Seems like you have a secret girl you’ve been talking to huh~~ What’s her name?”

“What girlf-… Ah… its not a girl, I was talking to a guy”

“That’s alright, I don’t judge. Who’s that guy?”

“HEY!! NO!! Shut it and eat. Its my roommate. He was telling me to take out the trash”

“Oh… I thought atleast my friend was in a relationship”.

“Like hell I don’t need any rig- Wait… look at this picture”, Zoro stopped eating and showed you a DP of a guy in his personal chat. That was a side profile of a man with cigarette between his lips. He looked pretty good.

“Yeah he looks nice, what about it?”

“Now eat this”, he picked up his spoon and handed it to you. You ate it and the flavours of the food felt divine on your tongue. Your mind tried to keep you sane but your heart had other plans and you grabbed his food and started to eat it making him to hit you, then you stopped.

“Sorry, animal instincts”, you gulped as you returned to your plate. It was good but Zoro’s food was on another level.

“Yeah, people who eat my food turn into animals. I noticed that”

“Never knew you could cook this well, Aish… Zoro I have a question”

“Yeah?”

“Zoro lets go out”, your words made the latter to almost choke on his food.

“Wait wait. Nothing romantic. Just that… you make me food and I sit pretty”

“Jerk… you want food. We don’t have to be in a relationship for that. And I didn’t make it”. You got curious about this. It seemed that zoro’s roommate was the one who made this. His name was Sanji and he was a chef.

“I was thinking of introducing him to you, that’s why I called him earlier”, Zoro averted his gaze from you, “But if you only want too of course. I like how you don’t lead anyone on. If it is okay, then go ahead with him”. A small chuckle left your lips and you nodded in agreement.

You got Sanjis number and as soon as you messaged him hi, you got a reply. You mentioned to him that you were still in office and you both agreed to call after your logout.

Your mind was going apeshit, what waws going on?!! You were getting nervous to talk to the handsome man that Zoro introduced you to. Logout time seemed longer than usual because you were waiting for it.

“Idiot, work first. Then you’ll be able to lose track of time”, motivational words from zoro helped a lot and soon, it was time to call Sanji.

You stood at the entrance of the company and fiddled with your phone. Hands were getting clammy with the stress. Looking at your misery, Zoro sighed and snatched your phone hitting the call option in the process.

“Hello”

A soft husky voice made you to take a deep breath and respond. The first few minutes of the call were a bit slow and awkward but by the time you reached home, you were both laughing and having a great time. Ending the call seemed to be hurting the both of you, which never happened in your past. No matter how excited you were, the other person was never happy with you being yourself. Clingy, immature, talkative and loud, were the words that stuck with you from your past. Though you tried to make sure to not show those traits, you wanted to hide, couldn’t while you spoke with Sanji. Wonder how this happened. Maybe because Sanji was a type to make anyone feel comfortable around him.

Two weeks have passed and the conversations kept getting better and better. You both wanted to meet each other.

“I want to see you”, words slipped out of your mouth making Sanji to become silent.

“I’ll meet you soon”, he said as a smile formed on his lips.

The next day, when you and Zoro got out of the office, you noticed that someone was standing beside Zoro’s bike. You looked at the slender form with a cigarette and your heart skipped a beat. You could hear your heart beating faster.

“Oye Shitty Cook! Why are you here?!!”, Zoro went towards Sanji.

“Marimo!! Don’t you-”, the blond’s words stopped as he noticed you. He walked and stood right infront of you. You both talked on Video calls but, seeing him in person made a shit ton of difference. You could notice how tall he was, his expressions, his red cheeks and most importantly, his blue eyes. His hands reached to yours and laced with your fingers. He smelled like sandalwood. Which made you feel warm.

‘I think he didn’t light his cigarette’, you thought. was It was just a few days since you both talked but, you both felt like you were ready to date.

“Should we go on a date?”

His question made you to smile and nod frantically. “I thought you’d never ask”

“Oh, I wanted to ask this when we met, not over phone”, his right hand travelled to your cheek.

“You sometimes… are cliché”

“Don’t you like it?”, he raised his eyebrow with a smirk. Damn… he aint lying.

Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated!!

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bloomingdayswithyou · 2 months

Note

can i request jiwoong x m reader angst please !!

Shattered Dreams

Pairing: Jiwoong x m!reader (both idols)

Words: 646

Warnings: angst, homophobia

Under the dawning of a pale, overcast sky, Jiwoong's heart throbbed with a mix of trepidation and sorrow. The weight of his secret pressed upon him like a leaden cloak, threatening to suffocate him.

He glanced furtively around the deserted practice room, his anxious eyes searching for any sign of intrusion. His gaze fell upon the crumpled photograph tucked away in the corner of his dance bag. It was a stolen moment captured in time—a tender kiss shared with the one person who made his heart sing. A bittersweet smile crept across Jiwoong's lips as his fingers traced the contours of his lover's face.

"m/n..." he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper. "Why can't we love each other?" The harsh reality of their situation gnawed at Jiwoong's soul. As a member of the newly debuted boy group, ZEROBASEONE, their every move was scrutinized by the watchful eyes of the public. The revelation of his past involvement in a BL series had ignited a firestorm of controversy among Korean fans.

Prejudice and intolerance suffocated their love like a venomous serpent. Jiwoong's management, fearing a public backlash, had delivered an ultimatum—end the relationship or face the consequences. The pressure mounted with each passing day, threatening to shatter the fragile bond they had forged.

Jiwoong knew he couldn't risk his career, not after all the blood, sweat, and tears he had poured into his dream. But the thought of losing m/n filled him with an unspeakable anguish. He couldn't bear the pain of watching his beloved slip away into the shadows.

As the sun began its descent, casting long, dreary shadows across the city, Jiwoong made his way to their secret meeting spot—the rooftop of his apartment building. A sense of foreboding washed over him as he opened the door to the place where they had shared so many stolen moments.

M/n was already there, his head buried in his hands. Jiwoong's heart sank as he witnessed the silent despair etched upon his lover's face. He sat down beside Reader, taking his cold hands in his own.

"Jiwoong-ah," M/n whispered brokenly, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I knew this day would come." Jiwoong swallowed hard, fighting back his own tears. "I'm so sorry, m/n. I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's not your fault," M/n replied, his voice barely a whisper. "It's the world's fault. They don't understand us. They don't understand our love." Jiwoong leaned forward and pressed his forehead against m/n's. Their tears mingled as they clung to each other, desperate to savor every remaining moment.

The weight of their forbidden love bore down upon them, crushing their spirits beneath its relentless force. As darkness enveloped the park, Jiwoong and m/n knew their time was running out. With heavy hearts, they exchanged a final kiss, a bittersweet farewell filled with unspoken promises and shattered dreams.

"I'll never forget you," m/n murmured against Jiwoong's lips. "No matter what." And with that, they parted ways, disappearing into the shadows like ships passing in the night. Jiwoong watched as m/n left the rooftop closing the door behind him, a profound sense of loss gnawing at his soul.

In the days and nights that followed, Jiwoong struggled to come to terms with the sacrifice he had made. The cheers of the crowd and the adulation of his fans felt hollow, a cruel reminder of the love he had been forced to forsake.

And m/n? He carried the weight of their shattered dreams with stoic resignation. He continued to perform on stage, his heart filled with a bittersweet longing for the one who had stolen his heart. Their story together had come to an end, but the echoes of their forbidden love would linger in their hearts forever—a poignant reminder of the pain and beauty of a love that was never meant to be.

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x male reader #zerobaseone x male reader #jiwoong #jiwoong x male reader #jiwoong x reader #zb1 jiwoong #zerobaseone jiwoong #zb1 angst #zb1 fanfic #jiwoong angst #zerobaseone angst #kpop angst

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imaginespazzi · 4 months

Text

You Weren't Mine To Lose

They think they're so good at pretending when all they're really good at is pining.

(In which a masochistic writer puts her beloved ship through hell until giving them their much deserved happy ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 8.2K (idk how this happened but oops? 🙈)

TW: Implied sexual content, mentions of panic attacks, small mention of blood, alcohol, and lots of swearing

“I think that maybe we should end this.”

Azzi Fudd had been on the receiving end of plenty of harsh sentences. And she’d been certain that there wasn’t a sentence left on this planet that could hurt her more than the one the doctor had used to tell her about her torn acl. Until now, until Paige Bueckers, eyes drifting everywhere but towards the girl in front of her, had said those eight words.

“I just,” Paige pauses, rubbing her face, “I think I need something else.”

The words hit Azzi like acid rain, burning into her skin and infiltrating something she can’t quite explain in words. This wasn’t what she’d planned when she’d come searching for her best friend. No, she’d had an entirely different conversation in mind. She swallows the I love you, let’s be more, that had been on the tip of her tongue and chases it down with the carefully constructed speech of wanting forever and happily every after she’d written in her mind. The voice in her head shouts I fucking told you so, she was never yours and Azzi wants to scream.

But what comes out is a quiet, feeble, “okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Okay,” Azzi repeats, clearing her throat, trying to make her voice sound cavalier, “we said no strings and that means you can end it whenever you want. You don’t owe me any explanation and I won’t ask anything.”

“Right. No strings.”

It had been Azzi’s idea really, her stupid dumb self-preservationist idea that had led her to this moment. They’d been drunk the first time it had happened but she remembers it clearly.

Remembers the way an inebriated Paige had clung to her, eyes shining with lust.

Remembers the way Paige had whispered her name, desire clinging to each syllable.

Remembers the shivers that had crept up her spine as Paige’s hands had gone on a journey starting at her shoulders, and then down her arms, before finally rubbing circles around her waist.

Remembers the moment she decided fuck it.

But most of all she remembers the morning after, remembers the questions written all over Paige’s face, remembers making another decision. Just best friends who occasionally fuck, no strings, just fun. She’d been stupid to think that if she ignored them, the strings just wouldn’t exist. That if she pretended it was just sex, that she wasn’t so completely in love with her best friend, she would get over it. Newsflash: she hadn’t gotten over it.

“Well that’s that then,” Azzi says with a brightness she doesn’t feel, as she heads towards the door, desperate to get away, “I forgot Carol needed help with something so.”

“Azzi.”

She hates the hope that rises in her at the sound of her name. Tell me to stay. Tell me you didn’t mean it. Tell me you love me too.

“We’re still us right?” Paige asks quietly, her voice filled with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

“Of course Paige,” Azzi says, her back still turned towards Paige, knowing if she turns, if she lets Paige see her face, her best friend will see her words for the lies they are, “we’ll always be us.”

***

Azzi doesn’t know how she manages to get to Caroline’s room without falling to pieces. Her legs feel like they’re a second away from giving out and her arms shake uncontrollably. The dull beat of stress headache pounds in her skull.

“Ah Mrs. Bueckers,” Caroline smiles jubilantly as Azzi lets herself in, “did you guys finally figure it out?”

It takes her a second to catch her breath and to understand the meaning of Mrs. Bueckers. And then, Azzi breaks. Laughter erupts from her body and suddenly she’s cackling like a woman possessed. It sounds like shattering glass to her own ears and this is it, she thinks, I’ve officially reached peak madness. But she can’t stop, her body doubling over as she clutches at her stomach, tears beginning to leak from her eyes.

Caroline’s eyes widen, her smile slowly slipping off as the realisation that something has gone very wrong settles in.

“Azzi, fuck, what happened,” she asks, unsure of wether to approach the distressed girl, who, instead of answering, starts laughing harder, “shit, should I get Paige.”

Something shift’s at the mention of Paige’s name. The laughter dies away and instead, an unsettling panic takes birth in Azzi’s stomach at the idea of Paige seeing her like this.

“No,” she chokes out frantically, “don’t get Paige.”

Caroline’s concern grows at that. It had become a rule of sorts, if one of Paige or Azzi seemed to be going through it, then the best thing to do was to go find the other. They knew each other’s wants and needs better than anyone else could ever hope to. And what they wanted, was usually the other to hold them through the pain. So this, Azzi not asking for Paige, Azzi actively denying her need for Paige, this was bad, very bad.

“What happened Az?”

“She ended it,” the words leave Azzi’s mouth in tandem with the air leaving her lungs, “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. She ended it. Fuck. She wants something else, something more and that’s not– I’m not– oh my god.”

“Az-”

“I knew this was a bad idea but- oh my god. She ended it,” tears wrack through her body as reality crashes and burns around Azzi, “I was so stupid, so, so stupid. I told you this would happen Caroline. I told you she didn’t feel the same. Oh my god, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.”

“Azzi,” Caroline grabs at the brown-skinned girl, spotting the tell-tale signs of panic attack, “breathe with me Az, come on, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Azzi manages to get out, gasping for air, her body vibrating with sobs, “it’s not going to be okay because she doesn’t love me. She doesn’t love me and I don’t know how to live with that because all I know is how to love her.”

Azzi feels the energy leave her body as she goes limp in Caroline’s arms, letting the taller girl anchor her. She’s not ready yet, not ready for tomorrow when she’ll inevitably have to play pretend. She’ll have to stand in the same room as her best friend and put on a smile and pretend that she wouldn’t rather be anywhere but there. She’ll have to bicker and tease and laugh with the girl who broke her heart and pretend that she’d never given her the power to break it in the first place. And Azzi would do it all, because that’s what she’d promised Paige. She’d looked in the blonde girl’s eyes at the age of fifteen and swore to her that no matter what happened, the two of them would always be them. They would always be okay. And Azzi was going to do everything in her power to keep that promise

***

The first few days are fine and Azzi almost deludes herself into believing that she's okay. They fall into their old rhythm of being just best friends almost seamlessly, at least they do when they’re with their teammates. She’s not ready to confront the fact that they haven’t been by themselves, just the two of them, since that night. And if Paige notices the way Azzi avoids being alone with her, she keeps it to herself.

The same way they didn’t tell anyone they were more, they don’t tell anyone they’re less. They don’t need to; the team just knows. Even the coaches, who knew but never said a word, can tell something’s off. It’s in the little hesitations before the smiles, the moments of pause before saying something. But most of all it’s in the way Paige and Azzi don’t touch at all anymore. There’s no more Paige making it a mission to find ways to let her hands linger just a little longer on Azzi’s body when she’s in defending her, no more not-so-subtle brushes and linking pinkies as they walk past each other in the hallways, no more “just another one” pecks in the training rooms as everyone else waits for them.

Nothing changes on the court. Paige passes the ball, a pass only she could see, and Azzi shoots it, a shot only she could get off. They play in tandem, their backcourt chemistry still perfect. But the slap of their hands after the ball goes through the hoop, is half-hearted and formal, like teammates. Less. So, maybe Azzi’s wrong. Maybe they haven’t really fallen back into their old patterns and maybe everybody knows it. But in the bright lights of the gym, as she and Paige argue over a defensive play, and the game of basketball keeps them tethered to each other, she thinks that this will have to be enough.

***

And then, things go from okay to very much not okay. It’s after practice and they’ve chosen Paige’s apartment as their relaxation spot, except Paige isn’t there. She’d snuck away after practice and Azzi had pretended, it’s all she seems to do these days, not to notice. She’s not used to not knowing where Paige is but she’d quenched the overwhelming need to ask the blonde girl where she was going while completely ignoring the part of her that wanted to ask if she could come along.

“And that’s how your brain eats itself,” Amari finishes a long winded explanation with a triumphant smile. There’s dead silence as the rest of the team looks at each other before they all burst into laughter.

“How the hell do you even know that?” Aaliyah manages to get out through peals of laughter.

“Y’all don’t google?” Amari asks incredulously, and the way her face scrunches up causes a brand new wave of giggles to flood the room.

“We google,” Azzi says and she hasn’t smiled like this in days, “we just don’t google things like that.”

Amari lets out an indignant squawk at that and Azzi feels a sense of calm that she hasn’t in a while. It lasts about a minute until two voices, one unfamiliar, one too familiar, begin to invade the room. Paige stumbles in a second later and fuck. Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as she desperately tries to look away from where Paige’s hand is firmly intertwined with someone else’s. It’s a mistake because her eyes land on Paige's face instead and that might be worse. She’s met with a glowing smile and bright eyes, none of which are directed towards Azzi. Instead, all of Paige’s happiness is for another girl.

“Layla,” she hears Aubrey say and oh. Because Azzi knows exactly who Layla is, or at least who she was. There had been a freshman Paige that Azzi had never really known beyond the phone calls and facetimes with her Paige. But she’d known that Paige had gotten around and she’d heard of Layla. They told each other everything and hookups fell right into the scheme of things. Layla had been Paige’s go-to on nights she’d been too tired to go looking for someone else. She’d been such a constant, that she’d slowly become a friend. Things had changed gradually from the moment Azzi stepped on campus. Even before they’d brought sex into it, all of Paige’s time had been Azzi’s, well, until now.

“Hey guys,” Layla smiles and is greeted back with a chorus of not so enthusiastic “hello’s”

“Lay, let’s go,” Paige whines impatiently.

“Give me a second Bueckers, I’m trying to be polite,” Layla rolls her eyes but Azzi doesn’t miss the fondness in them and everything burns again.

“Be polite later,” Paige tugs on Layla’s hand. In turn, Layla gives the team a slightly apologetic smile before letting the blonde girl pull her away. The bang of Paige’s door closing behind the two of them reverberates around the pin drop silence of the living room, that had been filled with laughter only mere seconds ago.

Azzi finds herself suffocating under the sympathetic glances her teammates send her way. She digs her fingernails deep into the palm of her hand, forming dents she knows will bleed. If it hurts, she doesn’t feel it over the reckless thumping in her chest. One, two, three, breathe, she counts to herself, refusing to break down in front of her teammates.

“It’s called phagocytosis,” Amari says after a second, trying to fill the silence, “and I mean it’s not really the brain eating itself but it feels like it.”

“So you just technically lied then.”

“I did no such thing. It was a slight exaggeration maybe.”

“Phagocytosis sounds like a really weird disease.”

“Yeah, maybe Amari has it.”

The team dissolves back into giggles, not quite as rambunctious as before but it’s enough. Enough for them to be distracted. Enough for Azzi to escape. Not enough for Caroline to not notice but Azzi knows her friend will give her a moment. She takes the stairs almost three at a time, flinging the door to her apartment and then to her room. The force of it creates a circle of wind around her and for a second, to her dizzy brain, it feels like Azzi’s floating. She doesn’t bother with the lights, flinging herself onto her bed. Pressing her hands to her forehead, she desperately tries to block the constant stream of thoughts in her head about Paige and Layla. It doesn’t help. And in the familiar comfort of her bedroom, Azzi curls into herself, and lets herself fall apart.

***

The ball passes right through Azzi’s hand and rolls out of bounds. Azzi curses to herself as she hears Coach yell her name. It’s almost the end of practice, and she can hear the disappointment in his voice as he subs her out of their scrimmage. She’d been distracted the whole time, a step too slow on both sides of the ball. It was a novel thing. Azzi had bad games sometimes but she rarely had bad practices. As she walks off to the side, she can feel Paige’s eyes glaring at her. It had been her assist after all that Azzi hadn’t converted. She shrinks into herself, disappointment and shame colliding into one, because they’d done such a good job at not letting their personal havoc impact their game. And she’d blown it.

“What the hell was that,” true to what she’d expected, Paige turns on her the minute they enter the locker room after practice. They’ve barely spoken in the last couple of days and Azzi closes her eyes, letting herself revel just for a second in the feeling of having Paige so close.

“It was an accident,” she replies, turning her body so she’s face to face with her best friend.

Paige scoffs, “which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Which one was the accident? That perfect pass you just let go to waste? Was it that wide open three you missed? Or the blind drive to the basket into three defenders for no reason? Oh wait, maybe it was when you completely lost yourself on defence?” Paige rants, anger coating every word. It’s not new for Paige to hold Azzi accountable and god, maybe Azzi’s even missed it a little bit but she can’t help feeling annoyed that this this is what had triggered the old Paige.

“I had a bad day. It happens,” Azzi’s voice is colder than she means for it to come out but all the emotions she’s been suppressing are bubbling at the top of her throat.

“Well it can’t happen. You do that in a game and we’re fucked,” Paige retorts. The rest of the team continues to do what they’ve been doing, occasionally glancing at the two arguing girls. It’s another of those unspoken rules, don’t interfere when Paige and Azzi are fighting.

“I didn’t do it in a game.”

“But you could. And if you keep practising like that you’re going to end up embarrassing yourself in a game.”

“Again, it was one bad day Paige, I’ll keep it in mind and I’ll be better tomorrow,” frustration seeps into her tone and Azzi hopes that her words are enough for Paige.

“You better because that can’t happen again Azzi,” Paige says.

“I just said it wouldn’t,” Azzi’s voice rises, throwing her hands up in irritation.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m-”

“Paige?” a new voice cuts in and both girls reluctantly look away from each other to see Layla, “hey, you okay? You wanna get out of here.”

“I-” Paige lets out a breath, looking back and forth between Azzi and Layla. And Azzi waits, waits for Paige to tell the new girl not to get in between Paige and Azzi, like she always had when anyone else had tried to step into their fights. She waits for Paige to tell Laya that she’s fine, and that she and Azzi just need to talk it out. She waits, and it never comes.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” the blonde girl says instead, giving Layla a small smile. She looks over at Azzi, something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“Shit,” Caroline whispers under her breath, a sentiment clearly echoed in the rest of the team’s faces. Paige and Azzi didn’t leave arguments unfinished. They'd been in uncharted waters with the two girls for a while now, and this feels like yet another turning point.

Anger and frustration course through Azzi’s veins. She just left her brain sneers at her. The hurt and pain fade to the back of her mind, as Azzi lets these new emotions settle all over her. She’s cried more in the last couple of weeks than she ever has in her life and she realises slowly, letting this new volatility swarm her, that she has no more tears left to give. She left. And then a new voice enters her brain, and you let her go.

***

A knock on the door shakes Azzi away from her thoughts. The book on her lap that she’d been pretending to read, falls unmajestically to the floor. Through bleary eyes, she sees the 10 o’clock on her watch and confusion settles into her. She’d been clear before leaving the locker room that she wanted to be alone tonight and while her teammates had protested a little, they’d eventually agreed to give her space, although Caroline had been adamant on coming to wish her a good night. It was far too early for that. She sighs, ready to huff at whichever of her teammates had ignored her pleas. Instead she’s met with the sight of a sheepish looking Paige.

“Hey,” the blonde girl smiles and it’s small and slightly cautious but it’s so genuine.

“Hi,” Azzi says softly.

“I think I owe you a little bit of an apology,” Paige says.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow at that, “since when do you apologise for holding me accountable?”

“I- well,” Paige stutters, “Layla said I should.”

“That’s what Layla says is it?” Azzi can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. They’d never apologised for critiquing each other’s games or practise before and suddenly Layla had said Paige should and Paige had listened. Azzi hates everything about that.

“Is me apologizing a bad thing? What’s with the attitude?”

“No,” Azzi sighs, not having the mental stamina to deal with right now, “I’m just tired. I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry too.”

It sounds so formal to her own ears, like two acquaintances writing emails to each other. As they stand face to face, separated by mere inches, Azzi realises the depth of the chiasm between them. And she doesn’t know if she has the strength to build a bridge to go over it.

“Do you want to watch a movie,” Paige asks finally, her voice tinged with hope.

“I don’t know Paige. I’m tired and-”

“Please,” there’s desperation in Paige's voice now, “we haven’t done anything just you and me in a while and,” she stops, her eyes wet as they come up to meet Azzi’s, “I miss you.”

I miss you too, Azzi wants to stay. She wants to throw herself at Paige and wrap herself in the comfort of her arms. She wants to massage away the stress lines on her forehead and kiss away the tears threatening to fall from her blue eyes. Instead, Azzi simply manages to nod and steps away so Paige can come in. She’s rewarded with a smile so bright, it makes her heart ache.

As Paige enters the room, Azzi’s reminded of the last time the two of them had been there together and she can’t help the faint blush that rises up her neck into her cheeks. That night had been different, Paige had been softer, slower. She’d taken her time with every touch, every kiss; her every move had been sinfully deliberate. Through all of it, she’d kept her eyes locked with Azzi’s, making sure she could see how desperately Paige needed her in that moment. And Azzi, hands fisting sheets, had let her take whatever she wanted. She wonders if Paige knew that would be their last time, if she’d already decided to end things. I’d have held on longer if I knew.

Paige’s eyes linger on the bed for a second, before she decides to sit on the couch and Azzi follows her lead. They both curl up as close to the arm rests on their side as they can, leaving an unfathomably large amount of space between themselves for two basketball players who had been attached at the hip since they were fifteen. The awkwardness is palpable as Azzi picks a random comedy movie, the two of them making a subconscious decision to not revert to their normal routine of arguing about what to watch.

It takes a quarter or so of the movie before they find some semblance of normalcy. Paige finally lets out a laugh, after having reined it in during previous funny scenes and it sets Azzi off. And then they’re both giggling messes, feeding off of each other’s infectious laughter. The tension eases and they both unconsciously let their bodies uncurl, letting their legs tangle with each other. It comes so naturally, they don’t even really notice that they’re touching for the first time in weeks. They’re too busy laughing, and when they’re not, there’s a comfortable silence and it’s just, it’s them. Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep, she just knows it’s the best sleep she’s had in a while.

***

Azzi stirs awake to cold hands caressing her face, Paige’s touch ever so familiar. She keeps her eyes closed, scared it’s a dream. She’s had a lot of those lately.

“I wish you felt the same,” Paige whispers, pressing her lips to Azzi’s forehead and Azzi swears she feels a teardrop fall on her face. But before she can react, before she can reach out for the figure she can feel hovering above her, she feels it retreat away from her.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s all alone.

***

Azzi’s on edge. The team had chosen a bar in a random town in Connecticut tonight, instead of going to Ted’s as usual. It was meant to be a change of scenery and they were unlikely to be as recognized in such a random area. In theory, it sounded like a good idea, but the combination of a brand new place with people she’d never seen in her life, made Azzi far more tense than she had thought it would. On top of that, she hadn’t wanted to go out tonight in the first place. It had been two days since Paige had left her cryptically, and with the way the blond was vehemently avoiding her, Azzi was partially convinced, maybe she had dreamt the whole thing. The exhaustion of it all had desperately made her want to simply lie in bed and do nothing for hours. But if she’d stayed, one of her teammates would stay behind for her and if there was one thing Azzi didn’t want, it was to be an inconvenience.

And then there was the Layla of it all. Because apparently Paige didn’t go anywhere without Layla anymore. Remember when it was you, Azzi’s brain reminds her scathingly. From where she sits at a table with the rest of the team, she has a torturously close view of the two of them dancing together. It’s nothing scandalous, in fact to anybody else it’s probably the definition of friendly, but Azzi’s head is clouded with jealousy, and the three shots of vodka she’d already downed to ignore it.

“I think I need another round of shots,” she announces, noticing Paige and Layla start to make their way back to the table, “one of you come with me.”

“Is that a good idea?” Caroline asks tensely.

“Of course it is. Shots are good. Shots are fun,” Azzi wraps an arm around Caroline’s shoulder, her words coming out slightly slurred, “come with me pretty please.”

“Come where?” Paige’s voice interrupts.

“Nowhere you need to be,” Azzi retorts harshly and a flicker of hurt passes across Paige’s face. Azzi almost apologises, hating seeing Paige sad, but then her eyes focus in on where Layla’s hand is carefully placed on Paige’s bicep, and the sorry dies on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she roughly grabs Caroline and pulls her to the bar. She doesn’t get drunk often, hadn’t planned on doing it tonight but she’s so tired of feeling.

“Maybe we should cut you off,” Caroline says softly and Azzi pouts, “c’mon Azzi drinking so you don’t have to deal with your feelings is never a good idea you know that. You know I’m right.”

“I’m really tired of doing what’s right,” Azzi says despondently, waving the bartender over, “a shot of tequila please.”

Caroline sighs but seems to think better of trying again, shaking her head no when the bartender asks if she wants a drink of her own. She watches silently as Azzi downs the shot, concern and sympathy for her friend keeping her from snatching the shot away from Azzi.

“On me,” a deep voice echoes in Azzi’s ear as she pulls out her card to pay for the shot. She loses balance trying to turn around, but a pair of unfamiliar hands grab at her waist to keep her steady. Through the fuzziness in her brain, Azzi finds herself staring into green eyes; green eyes that belong to a pretty girl with blond hair and strong arms. And she’s tall, a voice in her brain says appreciatively. She looks just like Paige, well except the eyes, another less-amused voice points out. But she’s not Paige is she, the other voice reminds her snarkily.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Azzi hears Caroline say from behind, her voice weirdly pitched.

“I want to,” the pretty girl says, eyes never leaving Azzi, as she hands her card over to the bartender “I’m Stephanie.”

“Azzi.”

“And is the girl behind you, your girlfriend Azzi?” Stephanie asks, but her tone suggests she already knows.

“Who? Caroline. Oh absolutely not. Just a friend.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I don’t dance with pretty girls with girlfriends,” Stephanie says, emphasising the word pretty.

“We’re not dancing,” Azzi replies dumbly.

“Well let’s fix that,” Stephanie whispers and oh, she’s flirting, Azzi realises. It’s not that Azzi’s never had anyone hit on her. No, there’d been plenty of men but there hadn’t been a girl before, well never a girl that wasn’t Paige, “dance with me Azzi.”

Behind Azzi, Caroline chokes on air.

“Azzi,” she hisses, her eyes flickering over to where Paige is sitting, back turned to the bar. The point guard hasn’t seen what’s happening yet but Caroline knows the moment she catches wind of it, things would go up in quite literal flames.

Azzi stares up at Stephanie’s expectant eyes, before letting her gaze move to Paige, Paige who’s engrossed in a conversation with Layla, who’s laughing at something Layla said. She turns back to Stephanie, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“I’d love to dance,” she says softly, ignoring the groan Caroline lets out behind her and letting Stephanie pull her to the dance floor. Two can play the move on game.

Dancing with Stephanie is different. Her hands feel different against Azzi’s skin, a little too rough and yet still too soft. Her smile is different, sexy and sultry but missing an innocent frivolity that Azzi had become used to. But most of all it’s the eyes. The mysterious green, a sharp contrast from the calm, familiar blue. She pushes the comparisons to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the way Stephanie twirls her around then pulls her in. And then they’re suddenly so close, noses almost touching. Azzi knows what’s going to happen and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s not right.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Stephanie whispers and the voices in Azzi’s head battle, her heart beating to a chorus of she’s not Paige. But the final nail in the coffin is an image of Paige and Layla that her brain conjures up and in an envious drunken haze, Azzi makes another of her not so great decisions. She nods her head yes.

It takes a second of Stephanie’s lips pressing against hers for Azzi to know it’s all wrong. As she starts pulling away, the sound of shattering glass wreaks havoc in ears. Eyes blinking rapidly, she follows the path of familiar voices shouting to locate the noise. Paige stands, a little distance away from the dance floor, face fuming red. A litany of broken glass shards surround her feet and a gush of red flows from the patch of skin where her left thumb meets her left palm.

“Paige, fuck,” concerns flows through Azzi but before she can make her way to the bleeding girl, Stephanie pulls her back in.

“Meet me outside in a bit yeah,” she says with a devilish smirk. She doesn’t give Azzi a chance to respond, before disappearing out of sight. Azzi blinks dumbfoundedly at the spot where the girl had previously been, the alcohol catching up to her brain.

“Paige oh my god you’re bleeding,” Nika’s voice shakes Azzi out of her trance, “can someone get a band-aid please.”

The crowd parts seamlessly as Azzi rushes towards her best friend, grabbing for her injured left hand.

“What the hell Paige?” she’s incredibly sober now, as she inspects Paige’s hand before it’s yanked out of her grip.

“I should ask you that. What. The. Hell. Azzi?” fury laces every word as Paige stares her down.

“I– what?” Azzi asks quizzically, still focused on trying to grab Paige’s hand again but the blonde girl is determined, despite wincing, to keep it out of her reach.

“Tell me, was she a good kisser?” Paige asks, eyes narrowing dangerously, “did you enjoy the kiss?”

“That’s–I–it–that’s not important,” Azzi stutters, “you’re bleeding Paige.”

“And I’ll keep bleeding till you answer the damn question,” the blonde girl says, unveiling a side of herself Azzi's never seen, “so tell me Azzi, was it a good kiss?”

“Paige,” Caroline says firmly, noticing the crowds that are building up around them, “I don’t think now’s the time.”

“No, I think it’s the perfect time actually. If she can kiss a stranger now, she can answer a question about this kiss now too,” Paige sneers.

“You’re making a scene,” Azzi whispers.

“I’m making a scene?” the laugh Paige lets out is borderline manic, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one borderline dry-humping a stranger in the middle of a random bar and I’m making a scene?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi recoils.

“Just telling the truth. Where’d she go then? Is she waiting for you outside?” when Azzi doesn’t reply, Paige find her answer in the silence and let’s out another laugh, “she is, isn’t she? Well then what the fuck are you doing here Azzi?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, eyes brimming with tears now, “you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“No, I don’t need your help Azzi.”

“Paige,” she tries again.

“No Azzi. I don’t need you. Go get fucking laid,” the words snap something in Azzi that has been on the edge of breaking since Paige had told her she wanted something else. She steps back from the blonde girl, blood boiling.

“You know what Paige,” her voice is far stronger than she feels, “maybe I fucking will.”

***

“Fuck,” Paige curses, fisting her palms and then hissing when her left hand aches. Regret pulsates through her head. She hadn’t meant it, any of it but especially not the last part. The last thing she wanted was Azzi to go after that girl.

Watching Azzi kiss someone else had been enough torture, the idea of her doing anything more would be the end of Paige’s sanity. It was ingrained in her brain now. She’d been laughing with Layla, hands encased around a beer bottle and then her teammates had gone oddly quiet, their eyes focused on something behind her. Confused, Paige had turned and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor was her Azzi, in somebody else’s arms. Layla, the saviour she’d been the last couple days, had immediately tried to distract her but Paige’s gaze was transfixed on Azzi. Her best friend twirled on the dance floor and a dagger twisted in Paige’s heart. And then, time seemed to slow down as the other girl brough Azzi impossibly close to her. Don’t you fucking dare Paige had thought, squeezing the glass bottle like a stress toy. On the dance floor, someone else, someone who wasn’t Paige, pressed their lips to Azzi’s and on the other side, Paige’s hands crushed the glass bottle into a thousand pieces.

When Azzi looked over, her lipstick slightly smudged, her eyes glassy, Paige had wanted to die. And when the girl had the audacity to pull Azzi back into her, Paige had wanted to commit murder. Misery and fury raged a battle in her head and when Azzi had rushed over, the gentle touch of her hand had been too much. And then Paige had taken it too far.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she repeats, ignoring her teammates as she fights through the crowd to chase after Azzi. Some people move easily, others glare and some flat out yell at her but Paige doesn’t care; she focuses solely on getting to the girl she’d just let go.

“Azzi?” she calls out, stepping out of the bar into the cold breeze, “please, please, please don’t go. Azzi?”

She scans the parking lot for the brunette, frantically pacing around the entrance but there’s no sign of Azzi. Paige hasn’t cried since the night she’d ended it, throwing herself in work and basketball and Layla but as the realisation that Azzi left, that maybe it’s too late, hits her, the tears she’d so carefully kept at bay, traipse down her cheeks like a never ending waterfall.

***

The whole team is silent in the living room as Nika bandages Paige’s left hand. The tension in the air is palpable as Amari paces the room, the sounds of her feet moving matching the rhythm of Aubrey nervously snacking on a packet of chips.

“Are you going to explain yourself,” Aaliyah breaks through the quiet, her question directed at Paige.

“It was an accident,” Paige doesn’t mean to get defensive. She’s aware she fucked up tonight but there’s too much going on and her head is still stuck at Azzi. Azzi, who had left with a random girl and only texted Caroline the words I’m fine after Caroline had blown up her phone with concerned texts. Paige’s I’m sorry, hadn’t gotten any reply.

“An accident,” Aaliayh says slowly, raising an eyebrow, “that’s what you’re going with?”

“I didn’t purposely break a glass bottle and fuck up my thumb Aaliyah.”

“Coach is going to kill you,” Aubrey says nervously, “this is not good Paige.”

“Did I miss the gang up on Paige memo? Because why am I the one being yelled at right now?”

“Who’s yelling?” Amari supplies unhelpfully.

“That’s not the point,” Paige glares at the taller girl who puts her hands up in defeat, “Why am I the one getting this responsibility lecture? I’m not the one who just made out with a random stranger in a bar and then just fucking left with them. We don’t even know where the hell she is.”

She knows she sounds bitter but the hurt of the night still stings and she doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with her teammates being mad at her rightnow. Tomorrow, she’d apologise and own up but she’s feeling reckless tonight. Her teammates are silent and Paige thinks, maybe they’re going to drop it too. And then Caroline speaks, her voice steely in a way that doesn’t match her normally soft sweet self.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she meets Paige’s eyes with an unexpected fierceness, “she’s single. Stephanie as far as I know is single. Azzi’s a grown adult who can hook up with whoever the hell she feels like. It’s not just something you can do.”

“That’s not the point,” Paige growls, “”you guys always know where I-”

“I know exactly where Azzi is actually,” Caroline rebuts , “so what exactly is the problem here?”

“She– I– It’s,” Paige bumbles on, not having an actual answer.

“You’re the one who ended it,” Caroline says, her voice accusatory, and the whole room seems to hold their breath at that, “you ended it and you don’t get to question what she does now. It’s over Paige and that was your decision.”

Paige gapes at Caroline, “how can you, of all people, say that to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the only one who knows Carol,” Paige says slowly and it’s Carol’s turn to be confused now. The rest of the team shoots each other questioning glances, things suddenly seeming even more puzzling than before.

“I heard you that night,” the blonde girl says, her voice breaking a little, “I heard you and Azzi.”

“Paige,” Caroline says, always quick to catch things, “what exactly did you hear?”

“I heard enough,” Paige says, closing her eyes because she can still hear that conversation in her head, “I heard her telling you she was going to end it, that she was tired of our arrangement. That she wanted– she needed– something else.”

“Oh Paige,” Nika says softly, putting an arm around Paige’s shoulders and her twin practically melts into the comforting touch.

“But I know her. She’s not good at that stuff. Always such a people pleaser. It was gonna be too hard for her to say it to me, so I said it for her. I broke my own heart, so she didn’t have to.”

A heavy silence follows Paige’s words as the blonde girl lets the tears fall for the second time that night. Her teammates are lost for words, the gravity of the situation, of Paige’s feelings, too much for all of them. A myriad of emotions flitter across Caroline’s face before finally settling on a saddened sympathy.

“Paige,” she says softly, coming to sit in front of the sobbing point guard, “you didn’t hear the whole conversation. God you’re such an idiot, the both of you are honestly.”

“Talk about kicking me when I’m down Carol,” Paige jokes.

“That’s not– Paige I can’t tell you the whole conversation because you deserve to hear it from her and she deserves the chance to say it to you. But Paige, Azzi wasn’t going to end it because she wanted less, she was going to end it because she wanted more. From you, for both of you,” Caroline says, hoping against hope that Paige understands what she means.

The realisation hits Paige in waves. She wants more. The words echo through her head and carve out a place in her heart. She wants more. Azzi had wanted more and Paige had wanted more and oh, they’d been so fucking stupid.

“I pushed her too far though,” Paige says as another realisation, the fact that Azzi isn’t here hits her, “she’s gone. Fuck, I need to be alone.”

“No Paige wai-” Caroline begins but Paige is gone out the door before she can tell the girl where Azzi is. She considers going after Paige but decides that maybe she’s revealed enough today. Maybe they could figure out the rest of it by themselves.

***

She’d meant to go to her own apartment, to her own room but her feet had a mind of their own, bringing her to Azzi’s instead. It was muscle memory really, her finding Azzi when she needed to be held. Except, there would be no Azzi to hold her tonight. Still, being in her room, where it smelt like her, Paige could pretend. She’d gotten pretty good at that.

The door opens smoothly as Paige slides into the room. And she almost gasps.

In the dim light of the night lamp, Azzi lies curled up in bed. She’s cuddling a pillow to her chest, her blanket pulled up to her neck with one hand slightly out of it. And she’s wearing one of Paige’s shirts,

She’s the most beautiful girl Paige has ever seen.

Carefully, trying to make as little sound as possible, Paige creeps closer to the sleeping girls. She can vaguely make out the tear tracks running down Azzi’s face and the guilt of it runs through Paige. A part of her thinks, maybe she should leave, wait til tomorrow. But she can’t. Instead she grabs one of Azzi’s shirts that lay scattered on the bean bag chair placed at the end of the bed. Quietly, she changes into it, breathing in the scent of all things Azzi.

“Paige.” Azzi whispers groggily as Paige slips underneath the covers, lying down facing the sleeping girl.

“Yeah,” Paige replies softly, caressing Azzi’s cheeks, “it’s me.”

“It’s not,” Azzi says wistfully, eyes still closed, as she wraps an arm around Paige’s torso, “it’s just me dreaming again.”

“You dream about me?” Paige asks, hating the hurt she can hear in Azzi’s voice.

“Mmm,” comes Azzi’s answer as she snuggles further into Paige, “all the time. I’ll take you however I can get you Paige. Even if it's a dream. Even if you’re not here in the morning.”

“I will be tomorrow. I promise,” Paige presses a kiss to the top of Azzi’s head and the darker skinned girl lets out a content sigh but Paige can tell she still thinks she’s dreaming, that she still thinks she’ll wake up alone tomorrow.

But Paige Bueckers doesn’t break promises. She’d be right there with Azzi tomorrow morning and if things went the way she wanted them to, then she’d be there for every morning after.

***

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in weeks and Paige wakes up in a complete state of serenity. It doesn’t last long when she blindly feels around the bed for Azzi’s warm body, only to find the cool of empty sheets under her head instead. She jolts up frantically, mind going million miles an hour thinking up the worst possibilities. Her heartbeat begins to calm down as she finally finds the brunette curled up on the bean bag chair with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Hey,” Paige breathes out, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face. Azzi doesn’t smile back

“What are you doing here Paige?” Azzi asks warily and Paige is instantly defensive.

“What are you doing here Azzi? Didn’t you say you were going to get laid?”

“And what if I did?”

“Well it must not have been very good if you came home that early and put on another girl’s shirt,” Paige says pointedly, amused by the pink that appears on Azzi’s cheeks. She knows the other girl’s lying, it’s just a matter of how long she’ll keep up the ruse.

“I grabbed whatever was closest.”

“Is that so?” Paige quirks an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t stand for it, letting the girl I’d just fucked wear someone else’s clothes. You know that.”

Azzi’s blush intensifies and she’s quick to change topics, “does your girlfriend know you snuck into another girl’s room last night?”

“I wasn’t aware I had a girlfriend,” Paige says, confused by the question.

“So what exactly is Layla then?”

“She’s a friend.”

“Yeah right,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes. Paige stares at her best friend, wondering if she’s gone insane. Her and Layla? Even thinking about it felt a little insane. Sure, she’d slept with the girl a couple of times her freshmen year but even that had felt insanely platonic.

“Az,” she says softly when the realisation sinks in, “Layla is not my girlfriend. She’s– well, I guess she’s my escape? I just– I needed a friend who wasn’t also your friend and she was there and it was easy. You really thought she was my girlfriend?”

“What was I supposed to think Paige?” Azzi says miserably, voice rising with each word, “you said you needed something else and Layla’s something else so I put two and two together and apparently came up with five.”

“I didn’t–,” Paige takes in a deep breath, it was now or never, “I thought you were gonna break my heart.”

“What?”

Paige sighs at the incredulity in Azzi’s voice, “I overheard you telling Carol that you were gonna end it with me, that you needed something else.”

“Oh,” she can see the clogs in Azzi’s brain turning, remembering exactly which conversation Paige is talking about.

“Yeah. So I ended it before you could. I couldn’t let you– I didn’t want you to break my heart,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s eyes.

“So you broke mine instead?” Azzi whispers and Paige doesn’t have to see the girl to know there are tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t realise it was mine to break,” Paige shrugs brokenly, eyes finally looking at Azzi through wet eyelashes.

They stare at each other in silence, hearts beating erratically, both of them waiting to see who’ll make the first move. Finally, Azzi stands up, and for once second, the fear that she’s about to walk away, that it really was too late, fogs Paige’s mind. But she doesn’t and instead Paige watches mesmerised, as Azzi slowly climbs onto the bed and then onto Paige’s lap. She arranges her legs so she’s straddling Paige’s thighs and her arms fall naturally around Paige’s neck. Immediately, Paige’s hands move to grip Azzi’s waist. They stay there like that for a while, foreheads resting against each other, basking in the warmth of finally being so close.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Azzi confesses finally and Paige lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, “I thought about it but then I was in her car and all I could think about was you. I think you might have ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good. Because this is it okay? You and me forever,” Paige juts out a pinky and Azzi immediately links it with her own.

“Forever,” Azzi whispers back and it’s not clear who surges forward first but then they’re kissing and it feels like a brand new adventure and coming home all at once. They melt into each other, gripping each other as close as possible, the overwhelming need to be touching everywhere taking over their senses.

“Azzi,” Paige pulls away and almost laughs at the way Azzi pouts, “I need you to say it.”

Azzi’s eyes twinkle with happiness, a spark only Paige can bring out in them. She leans in, the feel of her breath sending shivers of anticipation up Paige’s spine.

“Wanna play ball?” she whispers sensually. Paige lets out an irritated whine and Azzi bursts out laughing, hiding her face in the crook of Paige’s neck.

“Seriously,” Paige groans, pinching Azzi’s waist, but she’s unable to keep the amusement out of her own voice. She hasn’t seen Azzi this happy in so long and if Azzi’s happy, well then everything in Paige’s world is going right. The younger girl’s giggles slowly subside, as her face takes on a more serious expression.

“Paige Madison Bueckers,” she says, cupping Paige’s face, “you’re my best friend, my soulmate and I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life. And I’m about to be real cliché here so don’t laugh but baby, I want your face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see every night. I want you at your best but even more at your worst. I want everything as long as it’s with you. Because I am so completely, and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

“When did you become such a poet Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her smile widening when Azzi laughs again, “I’m so completely and utterly and ridiculously in love with you.”

Paige recaptures Azzi’s lips with her own, pulling her girl as close to her as she can. The kiss is sweet and a little salty from the happy tears running down both their faces. It’s innocent and lazy, and still sloppy and passionate. It’s everything.

“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll kill you,” Azzi says, only half joking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Paige promises, “you’re stuck with me for life.”

***

A/N: Congratulations on making it to the end of that! I'm ngl, I love the concept but I don't think I wrote it out particularly well but I had fun writing it so hopefully y'all enjoyed reading it. I promise the next one will be more happy. But for now, I hope this was worth it <3.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

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novasintheroom · 5 months

Text

A home for you and me

Combining these two asks since they both ask for the same line! Hope you don't mind <3

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.9k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: It's a new chapter in your lives.

Now part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

It’s a hot day. Most people are avoiding the worst of it by staying indoors, where some have cooling vents from the Plant, and others just have shade.

Vash feels sweat drip down his back, his knuckles lightly cramping around the cloth handles for bags laden with food stuffs. He’s happy with the haul from the market. Fresh fruit and vegetables, with synthetic meat that didn’t look too grey. This town really was a good place to settle down. He’ll have to tell you again when he gets home.

Home.

What a strange concept. Over one-hundred and fifty years on No Man’s Land, and Vash could hardly call any place truly home. Sure, there’s the ship, Home. Luida and Brad are wonderful. But he never wanted to overstay his welcome there, always leaving within a few days to hoof it once again across the deserts and try to repent for his wrongs. And always being on the run as either an outlaw or just an unwanted or unwelcome stranger made it impossible to settle down anywhere.

Until now.

Home comes into view as he rounds a corner. Sitting along a row of similar houses, it’s small, built of metal and rock and precious few beams of wood to bend in the desert winds. Three painted pots sit near the door – a craft you’d insisted on doing to help brighten the outside with more than oranges and browns. The string lights sway in the slight breeze over the doorway, waiting to turn on once the suns dip lower and the shadows come.

Someone might say it’s not much. But give them a century of travel, and it’ll become the best thing a man has seen.

His left hand turns the handle of the door – unlocked, you probably saw him coming through the window – and goes inside.

He only has a moment to hear your squeal and drop the groceries before you launch yourself at him. He catches you, feels your legs wrap around his waist to keep yourself locked in place. He is pummeled by your lips on his jaw, his neck, his cheeks. “Mayfly – !” He’s already overheated, but this is making it worse. “What are you – “

“I’m so happy we have a house!” You exclaim, planting a big kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I’m so happy you get to get groceries!”

Ah, zoomies. You’d been doing this lately, just too happy to have a house to do anything but run around or kiss him. He lets out a laugh, pulling you into a hug to stop your onslaught. “Can I at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment I come home?” He walks into the hallway, gently kicking the door closed behind.

You snort and pull back with a look. “You know you love it.”

He hums. “I’m sure the neighbors love it too,” he says. Still, he leans forward and catches your lips in a full kiss.

When you pull back, you finally put your feet back to the floor and stoop down to gather the grocery bags. “C’mon, I’ve been rearranging the furniture and I need to get your opinion. Oh, also, one of the neighbors came by and gave us a casserole! Isn’t that weird? She was super nice, though. I think she said she lives a few doors down, but I’ll have to check again. I think she has those two teenage boys that we saw walking earlier. Looked a lot like her!”

You wander down the hall, expecting him to follow at your heels, just like when you travelled. But Vash has to take a moment. You’re carrying groceries instead of supplies for camp. There’s food in the house, a place to safely lay your heads. You cut a beautiful figure, knocking into the corner as you go to the kitchen with what he brought home. Already trusting he got the right supplies, that this is going to work. You want him to look at the furniture.

You pop your head back in the hall when he doesn’t immediately show up. Your face falls, and you’re rushing to him. “Birdie, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” You reach up, and Vash is surprised to feel tears being wiped away. He hadn’t known he was crying. “Did something happen at the market?”

Vash takes a moment to rein it in. Then he pulls you into a tight hug, a watery laugh spilling out. “I’m just…really glad we have a home.”

You coo and rub his back. It still has all the scars and metal plates under the shirt. All the reminders of where he’s been, what he’s gone through. You feel your own tears prick in your eyes. What you would give to make that go away. But it’s what made him the man he is today, and you wouldn’t have him any other way. Your sweet man. You rock him side to side with your feet and whisper, “Me too, sweetheart.”

Vash sniffles into your shoulder, glasses pressed into the crook of your neck. Then he pulls away, sighing and wiping his eyes. “Alright, alright, I’m done.” He laughs. Then, looking down, he asks, “One more kiss? Please?”

With a smile, you say, “See? I knew you loved it.” You go to your tiptoes and press your lips to his.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #writing #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #self insert #reader insert #nova writes #150 Bullets

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in1-nutshell · 5 months

Note

Your last stuff with teen buddy resonated with me deeply as I too am a gremlin who seeks joy from the misfortune I bring onto others🙏🙏🙏

Idk if I’m requesting properly or whatever but could you do something with a similar reader/buddy expect they kinda like record bits and pieces of sounds/the voices of others and remix them into little songs for fun? Funny human mixtape is something came to me in a prophesied fever dream🫶

also your work is so good, I’ve been lurking around quietly for a little while and it’s SO GOOD AHHHH!!! IM SCREAMING AND JUMPING OFF THE WALLS!!!!!!!

Buddy is always a little gremlin for silly little activities, especially when it comes to their friends. Let us see how a couple of noises out of context can do to some minibots!

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy records out of context sounds and noises and sics them on unsuspecting bots (Tailgate, Rewind and Swerve)

SFW, platonic, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

Tailgate

Tailgate was scared when he heard the unfamiliar sound of a strange melody coming from the dark end of the Lost Lights corridor. He was just walking back from Swerve to get Cyclonus from their habsuite when he heard the noise.

Eerre noise echos through the halls

“Who’s there?!”--Tailgate

BOOM!

“AAAAAHHHHHH! CYCLONUS!”--Tailgate

“Where’s the danger!?”--Cyclonus

“Ah! How did you get here?!”--Tailgate

“Enough talk Panic button! Who do I need to shoot!?”--Whirl

“How did any of you get here so fast?!”--Tailgate

Cyclonus and Whirl had materializing out of nothing ready to hurt whatever was bothering Tailgate.

Little feet are heard as the noise gets louder.

“We have you out numbered 3 to one monster!”--Whirl

“Show yourself!”--Cyclonus

“Cyclonus? Whirl? Tailgate?”--Buddy

“Buddy?! What are you doing here? There’s a monster—”--Tailgate

“Oh, no that’s just my new boombox. I got it at that flea market last stop. I’ve been trying to see how it works for about a good couple of minutes.”--Buddy

“… Can I still kill it?”--Whirl

“Whirl?!”—Buddy, Cyclonus and Tailgate

Rewind

He had a compilation of out context noises and sounds. When Buddy tells him that they have a plan to use them he is in. Together they make a little playlist of creepy noises and hook it up to the ship’s main intercom.

“You think this is a good idea?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Agreed.”

“… You want to push the button?”

“Yes, please.”

Everyone was on edge whenever a particular noise would stress. But the ship is saved by the minibot and Buddy’s moral compass.

“Alright. I think that’s enough.”--Rewind

“Yeah, it’s getting boring.”--Buddy

“You want to go find Domey for movie night?”--Rewind

“Yeah! Horror movie night!”--Buddy

Somewhere on the Lost Light

“Why am I getting the feeling that am in danger?”--Chromdome

Swerve

This one was on accident.

Buddy was trying to hear what their new compilation of eerie sound sounded like for the Halloween party.

But they just couldn’t hook up their device to their headphones.

“Hook up already!”--Buddy

Meanwhile at Swerve’s

“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!”--Swerve

What they didn’t know was that the device was instead paired with Serve’s speakers. Everyone was freaking out when the music suddenly turned into screams. Swerve, being the closest to the speaker fainted after the first few seconds.

Finally, after a bit Buddy is able to hear their playlist through their device.

“Hey guys I have the—where did everyone go?”--Buddy

Meanwhile at Rung’s there is a mile line for appointments.

Swerve is recovering in the Med bay.

And Rung now has more bots booked for an appointment and rumors fly around the ship being haunted goes around again.

#transformers #transformers x reader #idw mtmte #mtmte x reader #mtmte swerve #mtmte rewind #mtmte tailgate #maccadam #mtmte x platonic reader #human buddy

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sereneres · 6 months

Text

dollz™ ³

newjeans x 6th member!reader / 0.8k

summary. — in which danielle has too much time on her hands. she also isn’t really there but we’re going to ignore that

warnings. — danielle is here yet isn’t at the same time

“this name thing is lowkey kinda hard.”

hyein huffs, rolling onto her side and raising an eyebrow at the older girl. “don’t you already have all of yours, unnie?”

“well, no, i still have to come up with with mine and ynnie’s.” hanni sighs, dropping her chin into her palm. “the others were easier. bbangsaz, kittyz, twotolz, niniz–”

“why are you and dani-unnie ‘niniz’?” haerin tilted her head. “couldn’t you just be ‘aussiez’? because you both came from australia?”

minji, sighing, patted the girl on the soldier with a look of faux sympathy. “don’t question it too much, haerin, you’ll just get lost in the complicatedness that is hanni’s mind.”

“hey, just so you know, danielle was the one who wanted niniz, not me!”

“oh.” minji blinked, then turned back to haerin to once again pat her on the shoulder. “nevermind haerin.”

“hey–”

hyein groans, turning to you as the two girls continued bickering. haerin, having already settled down on minji’s lap, starts to doze off.

“yn-unnie~” she whines, shuffling closer to you and placing her hands on your knees. “can you help me, please?”

her words are almost robotic, seeing as she had said them in english, and that, paired with the pouty look on her face, was enough to make you coo at the younger girl.

“don’t worry about it too much, hyein.” you murmured, placing a hand on her head and petting her. “it’ll come to us… hopefully.”

minji, being unable to move with a sleeping haerin in her lap, turns her head nearly one-hundred and eighty degrees to look at you. “maybe you should ask danielle for help. she’s pretty good at coming up with names.”

“sh– mph,” haerin yawned. “she made a list of ship names for us already. didn’t you guys get her message?”

“she did?” hanni frowned, picking up your phone. “when’d she send it?”

“hanni-unnie, that’s my phone–”

the older girl pressed a finger to your lips, her eyes fixed on the screen of your phone. “shush, yn, you weren’t using it anyway.” she paused. “uh, what’s your password again?”

“just use your own phone, unnie.” hyein sighed, plopping her head onto your lap. “it would be faster if you did.”

you too sigh, albeit more out of exasperation than tiredness. “debut date, hanni-unnie.” you reminded her for the nth time that month. “it’s our debut date.”

“right… did you use month day year, day month year, year month day, or year day month?”

“hanni-unnie.”

“okay, okay, i got it, no need to whine… oh wow this list is long–”

“what about barbiez?” hyein cut in, having pulled up the list on her own phone. “that’s pretty cute, right, yn-unnie?”

you hum. “it is, but i don’t think we can just use barbiez. for one thing, it would look weird being spelt with a z when everyone spells it with an s–”

“all of our shipnames look weird with a z though.” haerin muttered. “dani-unnie and i use ‘candyz’ and not ‘candies’…”

“and, most importantly, we could get into some issues using the name barbie despite not being affiliated to the brand.” you smile apologetically at the girl in your lap, the beginnings of a pout on her face. “sorry, hyein-ah, but we can’t use it.”

“what about bratz?” hanni suggested, having not paid attention to anything you had said. “you and hyein look like bratz, right, minji?”

minji blinks. “erm…” she glances at you, her silent plea for help plastering an amused yet small smile on your lips.

“we can’t use that one because, as i said earlier, copyright and or trademark issues, hyein.” you said. “also, i don’t think it would be a good look if we were called bratz. it’s too much like the word brats, and who knows how many people already think of us like that…”

“those pe’ple are jus’ haters, unnie.” haerin murmured sleepily. “ignore ‘em.”

hanni huffed and nodded her head in agreement with the younger’s words. “well said, haerin, well said.”

“okay, what about dollz?” minji asked, looking at hyein. she had, at somepoint, taken your phone from hanni and was going through the list danielle had created. “since you can’t use barbiez or bratz, why not just use dollz?”

“dollz.” hyein repeated thoughtfully, seemingly testing how the word sounded. “that’s…”

“it’s perfect.” you leaned forward, trying and failing to peek at the screen—it was a privacy screen, hence your failure—of your phone. “was it on dani-unnie’s list?”

the older girl nodded. “it was.” she gives you your phone before pointing at the name on the screen. “see, it’s like, ten or so names down from the first one in the third row.”

“oh… just how many names did dani-unnie come up with?”

“she came up with around twenty–”

“oh, that’s not that bad.”

“–for each pairing, excluding the ones we already made names for, so, around a hundred?”

“a hundred?!”

previous. / pairz. / next.

#sereneres #seren.writes #newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #minji x reader #hanni x reader #danielle x reader #haerin x reader #hyein x reader #⊹#nwjns.yn

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idyllic-affections · 11 months

Note

Your writing is so good! Thank you so much for writing platonic fics, they are so hard to find, especially in Genshin and Demon Slayer. As an Aro/Ace who is addicted to the found family trope, your blog is a haven. So if I may... can I request a Muichiro x Hashira Mentor!Reader to go along with your other fics in this series? I loved the three so far, and especially with the most recent episode, I have strong "PROTECT THE BABY" vibes for Mui. What would happen if instead of Kotetsu saving Mui, it was reader? And they were trying to protect him from Gyokko while Mui is stuck in the water, and maybe that is what gives him the strength/inspiration to break free.

no harm will come to you.

summary. ""N— no," he choked out before rapidly pulling the rest of the needles out of his body. Something in their gut twisted uncomfortably at the sight of their student so battered. "Why do you always have to be the one to save me?"" trigger & content warnings. near-death (not the reader), canon-typical blood and injury, brief mentions of throwing up. tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. angst to fluff-ish. muichiro tokito & hashira mentor!reader. 1.5k words. they/them pronouns for reader. author's thoughts. hello dear!! i always smile when someone says this to me. its so important to remember that not everyone enjoys romanctic content. aroace people exist and deserve to be catered to as much as any other people do. i love being a safe space for people who just... dont want romantic content. i dont reblog romantic content (unless its canon x canon ship content, but even thats rare), i dont interact with romantic content. i just bring a spotlight exclusively to platonic content. not everyone has to do that, and thats totally fine, but i do so and will continue to do so. anyways pls keep sending mui requests, i love him so much awajshskgj <3

"Mui-kun!"

'That voice...'

"Hey! I'm here, okay?!" Their blood was ice in their veins, heart pounding as hard against their rib cage as their feet did against the ground. "I'm here now! Just ho— just hold out a little longer! I'll get you out of this shit!"

"Yeah! We'll— we'll get you out of this shit!" Kotetsu echoed from his place situated on their back. Their arms were hooked around his legs to keep him in place, while his arms squeezed around their neck to balance himself a little better. They pinched his thigh scoldingly.

"Don't repeat that! You're ten!"

'Ah... it's [Surname]-sama... and Kotetsu-kun..?'

Heavy pants left their lips as they skidded to a stop, falling to their knees in front of their poor, incapacitated Tsuguko. Kotetsu was quick to slide off of their back, settling beside them. "Shit... what the fuck?" they cursed under their breath, palm pounding against the cage of water, only to be met with ferocious rebound. Their pupils were blown wide with terror, the gloss of unshed tears making their eyes shimmer in the moonlight. Dragging their sword against the water's surface had no effect. The young boy mimicked their motions, simply with a knife instead. His efforts had no effect either. "The fuck is this? Why isn't it breaking? It's just water... why..?"

'Come to think of it... I've never seen [Surname]-sama cry, have I? They look so stressed.'

"Tokito-san, we won't let you die!" Kotetsu shouted. Beneath his mask, tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "Hang in there! What is this?!" He threw his whole body weight against the water, only to bounce back just as they had. "What the hell is this, [Surname]-san?! It's all rubbery and gross!"

"I don't know! I know as much as you do, okay?! I may be a Hashira but that doesn't mean I automatically know everything!"

The heat bubbling just beneath the surface of their skin was unbearable. In their panicked haze, they didn't notice the unfamiliar markings manifesting on their skin. As soon as they appeared, they were gone, fading from their flesh with no trace left behind. It was like they had never been there in the first place.

It seemed that they had a hard time maintaining their enhanced state when panicked and unfocused.

'You two have bigger priorities than me right now. Protect the chief, [Surname]-sama. Not me. That would be beyond Kotetsu-kun, but not you.'

Muichiro's eyes widened. His palm pounded furiously on the water, hoping to get at least one of the two's attention. Thankfully, he knew his mentor well enough to know how attentive they were. They reacted immediately, head whipping around to face whatever it was that he saw approaching from behind them.

It was only a small demon in comparison to the size of their body, hardly reaching up to their knee, but they knew better than to make assumptions about its power based solely on its size.

It came from an Upper Moon.

Surely, then, it was imbued with at least a fraction of said Upper Moon's strength.

"Kotetsu-kun, get behind me!" they commanded, snatching up their blade from the ground. "Now!"

A sharp gasp was torn from their throat when an equally sharp pain pierced their side. In their frantic state, it seemed that they were at a disadvantage, slowed down by their overwhelming worry. If Muichiro had screamed, the water had swallowed the sound up entirely; even so... the absolute horror on his face was surely enough to clue one in on his thought process. They winced, swinging their blade with enough force to behead the demon. It dissipated within an instant.

"[Surname]-san!" Kotetsu shouted, stepping back in shock of the sheer amount of blood that spilled from their lips.

"Fuck this whole mission," they muttered, bitter and tired, drawing in the deepest breath they could manage to in spite of the pain that struck their whole body like lightning when they did.

They exhaled into the vase of water.

'Even when you're bleeding out...'

Muichiro inhaled the oxygen they provided him with.

'You still come to my rescue. I should be embarrassed. Let me help you for once.'

"Kotetsu-kun! Get down!" they shouted out, leaping forward to shield his much smaller body with their own. His little hands immediately went to their side to put pressure on the wound they sustained.

Upon feeling their back drench with freezing water, they dove away from Kotetsu, catching their injured Tsuguko in their arms.

"I've got you, I've got you..." they whispered over and over like a mantra of sorts, perhaps in an attempt to console themselves rather than the coughing Hashira in their embrace. No mind was paid to the spines poking their skin, nor the way Muichiro spat up a concerning amount of water over their shoulder. They did, however, take note of the way he made desperate attempts to apologize for practically throwing up on them. "It's okay, it's fine, just get all the water out of your lungs. It's not a big deal."

All they truly paid attention to was the fact that he was breathing.

Alive.

However, he was weak. Terribly weak.

"You've gone numb," they observed as he ripped a spine from his cheek, arms trembling. "I've got you. I've got the rest from here. You need to rest."

"N— no," he choked out before rapidly pulling the rest of the needles out of his body. Something in their gut twisted uncomfortably at the sight of their student so battered. "Why do you always have to be the one to save me?"

"I'm your mentor. It's my job. I teach you. I protect you. That's how this relationship works," they replied, standing up on shaky legs and taking their blade with them. They watched as more of the demons gathered around. "No harm will come to you for as long as I live."

Aching.

That's all they could feel on one side of their body. The pain was enough to make them double over. They squeezed their eyes shut, expression contorting into a pained grimace. One hand pressed deeply into their wound in a desperate attempt to make it stop. "Fuck..."

They were already injured enough as it was from battles earlier on in the night.

Muichiro could read his mentor like an open book.

The book in question read nothing but agony. They were in no condition to keep fighting, and yet, neither was he.

Even so...

The rage he once felt three years ago boiled over again. It flooded the entirety of his veins, searing his skin and clouding his thoughts, stealing away the momentary clarity and reprieve from the haze in his mind. Muichiro clutched his sword with newfound rage.

'Stay away from [Surname]-sama.'

In an instant, the demons were all beheaded, dissipating into nothing but ash and dust.

"Mui— Mui-kun, listen to me," they choked out in a gasp with sudden urgency, as if they had remembered something extremely important. "The swordsmiths. Haganezuka-sama and Kanamori-san. They're— we need to go back for them. Upper Moon Five is still..."

"...You didn't get rid of him?"

Their eyes softened impossibly. "I... I didn't. I am selfish sometimes, Mui-kun, and you... you were my priority. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had left you. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"I should be mad at you."

"...Yes. You should be, and I wouldn't hold it against you if you were."

A heavy silence settled for a moment. Not even Kotetsu dared disturb it.

Then, with tender delicacy, the Mist Hashira wrapped his arms around their torso, laying his head on their chest. He was especially adamant on avoiding causing any further irritation to their injury. The firm beating of their heart was deeply comforting to him (he did, however, note the worrying wheeze that came every time they exhaled). "...I'm not, though."

It was as if a weight was lifted off of their shoulders. They softly wrapped their arms around his shoulders. "I'm glad, then. Thank you."

"No..." the boy trailed off, withdrawing from their embrace. Much to their surprise, he bowed in front of them. "Thank you, [Surname]-sama. I might not have made it out if not for you. I'm sorry for being so troublesome. I overestimated my skill, simply because I am a Hashira. I should have known better. You taught me better than that."

An embarrassed laugh left their lips as they scratched the back of their neck. "Hey... you, um, you don't have to do that. You can stand up. It's okay. That's why we build bonds the way we do; we all mess up sometimes, so we need people we can reliably fall back on." As he rose, they hummed. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but... something about you has changed."

He smiled. Such a gentle, sincere smile... it suited his face, but it was an expression they were not accustomed to seeing on him. He said nothing in response to them, however.

'I'll tell you everything once we're out of here.'

"...Shit! The swordsmiths! Mui-kun, come on! Grab Kotetsu-kun! Let's go!"

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion writes 🌸#: [ the cloud hashira! 🌸 ]#platonic kny x reader #platonic demon slayer #platonic demon slayer x reader #platonic muichiro x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #muichiro tokito x reader #muichiro x reader

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eponastory · 2 months

Text

Ah, Sarcastic Chorus...

Let's break down the 'I'm going to fix you' argument for Katara.

First off, no one can 'fix' anyone. Going into a relationship thinking you're going to change somebody and make them different is going to make that relationship bad. It's not necessarily toxic, but bad. Why? Because it's not your job to 'fix' the other person. The only one who can do that is the other person. You can only 'fix' yourself.

A lot of relationships fail because of these expectations.

I'm going to talk about fanfiction here for a moment since I've been writing a Zutara story. Since Zutara isn't Canon (but we really wish it was) and all, I only have what does happen in Canon and what happens in fanfiction tropes I see a lot.

In the show we get these wonderful little moments where Zuko and Katara are fighting each other (book one), and it sets a nice theme of opposites attract. The motifs are there with all the color symbolism... it's nice. That does immediately set our brains to 'oh they are so going to get together'. There are a lot of nuances to that, and it's lovely.

I'm not going to lie, Katara is in that group dynamic of 'The Heart' role, and yes, it does put a little pressure on her character to care for everyone. It's my least favorite role for a character and it's a bitch to write when you want that character to be independent.

Anyway, back to Katara. She's the mother figure, the caring and nurturing one that has to help everyone else sort out their problems while she has to internalize her own. It sucks. It really does. So when we get to TSR in Book 3 and she is practically berated by everyone for not acting like herself... she gets pissed, rightfully so because she had to help everyone else with their bullshit until Zuko finally joined. This is where Zuko becomes a foil for her.

Just to be clear, a foil is basically a character that encourages change to happen within a dynamic. It can be a group or a pairing. Usually, that character had opposite goals or a different personality. Zuko started out as the antagonist, but when he joined the Gaang, he's now a foil for the entire group.

Back to what I was saying... what was I saying? Oh yes!

So Katara is rightfully pissed because she needs to deal with her trauma when everyone is suddenly 'this isn't who you are'. No, this is exactly who she is. She is very much like her element. Water is fluid, it can be calm and it can be a torrent... which is exactly the way she is written. It's always been her, she just put everyone else's problems above her own. Now that she has to deal with her problems, it's chaotic for everyone else.

And yes, she does have survivors guilt.

That is her main problem, so now she has to deal with it. And Zuko gives her that chance.

This is getting pretty long, so I'll try to wrap everything up here.

Zuko doesn't need to be 'fixed' he's already done that himself by himself. Joining the Gaang was essentially a fresh start for him (I use that term lightly) which is why he is so awkward when he goes to talk to them at the Western Air Temple (or is it Eastern? I don't remember ahhhh. Fibro brain!) And it's so cute and I just want to hug him. I digress, but it's great.

He's got a shitty past, but he is trying to change himself even further by accepting responsibility for what he did to them individually. In Katara's case, he has to work hard for her. It's lovely, and the payoff is great. I know for sure that is what I see in their relationship. He cares so much about her that he works hard to win her trust again. Why? Because she showed him compassion in CoD, and that struck a chord in him. Her strength is her compassion when he was taught by his sociopathic narcissist father that emotions like that are a weakness.

That my dear Kat*angers is why we love this ship.

It's a beautiful dynamic between them that I would have loved to see Bryke explore, but they just gave us the most vanilla bland version of a romance they could find by pulling a D&B (Game of Thrones writers) and subverting expectations. It sucks.

TLDR version.

Katara doesn't have to fix Zuko.

#dont go into a relationship thinking you can fix someone thats bad #fix yourself and it will work out fine #zuko is an awkward turtleduck #anti anti zutara #pro zutara #pro katara #zutara #anti kataang #anti bryke

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secretwritingspot · 4 months

Text

Sea Legs

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: definitely PG/PG-13 at most, wholesome fluff. Implied soft!dom Sanji but like you can read it without that tbh, he's just being assertive. But like...we know.

Summary: request for @justyouraveragefangirl1967 - soft!dom Sanji taking care of Reader with chronic pain

Disclaimer(s): first and foremost, I personally am not someone who suffers with chronic pain, but I tried to write this as accurately as possible with feedback from a friend who does. It's still entirely possible that I got a few things wrong because the closest personal experience I could draw from was the pain that comes with hypermobility. That all being said, I hope I did it justice <3

It's far past the crack of dawn, and yet the sun rolls over you like a new discovery- unpleasant, if only for the moment.

You don't do much but groan at first, slinging your arm across your face as the sound quickly dissolves into a whine, the ship already tossing. The gentle movement, which you would normally find incredibly soothing, makes your stomach roil. It takes a few moments of unplacable, vague discomfort before the reason why registers in your mind.

Ah, that, you think as teeth bare in a hiss.

There's an empty ache running down your legs, dull but no more awful for it, twinging like the joints in your knees, hips need to crack but won't.

You allow yourself a moment to wallow before taking a deep breath, swinging your legs over the side of the bed with as little actual movement from them as possible. It won't be that bad, it won't be that bad, it won't be that-

A whimper escapes parted lips when you put your weight on them to stand, steadying your wobbling self on your nightstand. It is just as bad as you expected it to be, as bad as it always was on days like this, but you knew that allowing yourself that white lie was the only way you'd get out of bed at all.

The ship sways underneath you again and this time the bed isn't there to catch you, the movement sending you stumbling slightly for balance in a way that shoots pins and needles up your legs, a different kind of pain that came with taking your first steps when you got like this.

It got easier after a few minutes of walking around. Kinda.

(It did not.)

Before you had decided to join the crew of the Merry, your friends had teased in that knowing way that only friends can, even with dark subjects, that you'd need to find your sea legs first. You'd laughed and told them you hadn't even found your land legs yet.

The memory is fleeting and it isn't long before you've (mostly) stabilized yourself, albeit painfully. You lurch to your dresser, throwing on something new enough to hopefully not look as rumpled as you felt, and practice your walking on the way to the door.

Step, breathe, step, breathe- one foot in front of the other.

When trembling hands find the doorknob you tell yourself that the shaking is only from being tired. You never were a morning person. It doesn't take too many tries before you manage to open it, each step you take getting steadily more practiced and confident, despite the gritted teeth hidden behind your lips.

It's as close to normal walking as you can manage by the time you emerge in the galley, an imitation learned from years of practice. Your knees feel like they'll give out but you know they won't, not for a few hours or so.

For now, you are normal.

Or as close to it as you can manage.

"The fuck are you doing?"

It isn't even a second after stepping into the room that you hear the voice, the solitary other person in the galley with you. The usually honeyed tone is, despite remaining gentle, firmer than you're used to. It's a tone of voice you've only ever heard from the blond-haired man in...other situations.

Ah, right. Him.

Him, who knew too much, saw too much with eyes far too pretty, paid enough attention to notice things about you that you hadn't yet. The ever-present thorn in your side. Though maybe that was too harsh a word for a man as warm or soft as Sanji.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm just getting breakfast-"

An unfortunately timed rock of the ship sends you stumbling, disrupting your steps that are just light enough because they're practiced, has your feet landing too hard in a way your legs protest against with a sharp sting of pain.

In an instant he's on you, holding you up like the nights when the crew goes out drinking, his volunteered job to hold you stumbling home. The look in his eyes is different now, though, as he mumbles to himself under his breath.

"Absolutely not."

His voice is laced with an obvious frustration and for a moment you feel bad, unused to that tone being used with you.

Of course, you know it isn't really directed at you. He's talking to himself, after all.

He drags you back to your room without much of a fuss, movements still deceptively gentle as he supports most of your weight for you to keep it off your legs.

He knows. Somehow, always, he knows.

He hadn't been the first you'd told - to everyone's surprise (including your own) that had been Zoro. Not Sanji and his sweetness, not Luffy and his stubborn care for his crew, not Nami for the safe, conspiratorial environment she created with you, as though even if her trust was hard to earn and dangerous to break, there was a sort of camaraderie between the two of you in simpler ways. You two against the boys.

No, it was not any of them. Any of the logical choices.

It had been when you were reading in the sun on deck, Zoro training a bit away. This was the kind of contact he liked, you were discovering. Companionable silence with the two of you doing your own thing while sharing the same space. It was easier than small talk, anyway.

You didn't mind, really. The two of you got on well enough and it was a simple expression of friendship, sharing the deck.

When he'd finished, the sun considerably lower in the sky, he'd complained about feeling faint. Not to a concerning extent, but there was an undeniable ache in his muscles that came from training so relentlessly every day. You didn't even think before slipping out that you felt like that a lot of the time without even doing anything to cause it.

Aside from a concerned squint, a cock of his head, and eventual, "...that sucks", the information didn't seem to phase him. You noticed he was less hard on you on days when you weren't much help to the crew, though.

For that, you were grateful. In his own way, that was him "helping".

Sanji's "helping" is, unsurprisingly, far different from Zoro's. After a few awkward moments of trying and failing to stumble back to your bed, he simply picks you up, as if you weighed nothing, carrying you the rest of the way.

This part - the flushed, apologetic look down at the floor once he'd set you back on your bed - was always the worst. There's a thick feeling of disappointment, even though you know it's all in your head. With his arms crossed across his chest as you avoid his eyes, though...it doesn't feel like it.

"...I thought-"

"I know what you thought."

He's quick to cut you off as soon as you break the silence, too uncomfortable with awkward pauses like that one to let them stretch on any longer than necessary.

The response is not cold, but it's not the Sanji you're used to either. It is not coddling or doting and overwhelmingly affectionate. It is not a happy sound. You keep your head down and look away, clearing your throat and willing tears not to form in the pinpricks you feel behind your eyes.

He sighs, sitting down next to you.

"...you know I worry."

There's more silence and you sniffle, fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt. Of course he does. Of course, he does.

He seems to sense the tension and guilt in your motions, offering a hand to you in comfort. Even now, you take it. You know, when offered, you will always take his hand.

"I know it's rough. I know that you...want to help. Want things to be normal..."

A part of you wants to scream that he doesn't at all, doesn't know anything about what it's like. But you don't. You know that they're words you'd regret tomorrow. You know that he's trying.

"Love, I just want you safe."

Is his final, exasperated plea, your traitorous heart doing flips at the nickname.

You know. Of course you know he wants you safe, he wouldn't ever be this direct with you if it involved anything else. Your safety, above all else, was paramount. Though you could fight or delay or try to bargain with him if you wanted, that's the moment you know you've lost. You know the outcome, even if a stubborn part of you doesn't want to admit it.

"...lie down for me? Please?"

And he knows exactly what to say, "for me" and "please", the words lighting up a part of your brain that doesn't let you question him. Instead you nod, lying down slowly before curling up on your side. He gives you a wry smile, crouching down to stay eye-level with you and pulling the blankets up to cover you, eyes softening.

"What am I gonna do with you, huh?"

The question is asked to no one in particular, his voice is liquid velvet. He lightly taps the tip of your nose, shaking his head fondly as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Do I have to?"

It's the first time you've spoken in a while, voice raw as you whisper the question.

It is the same every time- you ask him the same question, and he gives you the same answer.

He sighs, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again, reaching a hand out to lightly stroke across your cheek.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You have to."

It's not the answer you want, but it's the one that's familiar. And in a way, that's a comfort in and of itself.

His eyes are bright and lovesick as he looks after you, cataloging every freckle, eyelash, tint on your skin like you were the answer, though the question you couldn't be sure of. He stares like the light bends around your face, like you're the only source of illumination he's ever seen. The silence is comfortable and warm, intimacy inherent in it all as he traces your face lightly, making his examination with slow and steady strokes.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stay here. Just for a while.

Eventually, he rises from his position at your side, standing up and straightening out his suit as he does. The distance makes you whine, though you bite it back, and he shakes his head fondly, voice low and calm.

"Just going to inform the others I'll be busy today. Stay put."

The door closes gently behind him and, despite yourself...you do.

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

Note

if you have time i would love to see what you do with prompt number #5 “i can’t believe i married you” with geraskier please!! i feel like geralt would say this when jaskier is being silly and ridiculous but also jaskier would use it when geralt gives him only one good morning kiss instead of two lol. but only if you have time!!!! 💖✨💖✨

Jaskier is still half-asleep as he shuffles to the fridge, his eyes bleary and unfocused after a late night of composing. Hoping for a few slices of last night’s leftover pizza, he opens the fridge, only to let out a little shriek of surprise when he finds a pair of bulbous eyes staring back at him.

“Geralt!” he yelps. “What the fresh fuck is in our fridge?”

His witcher appears in the doorway, already dressed and ready for the day. “A drowner head.”

“Right, good,” Jaskier says. “Let me rephrase. Why the fuck is it in our fridge?”

“It didn’t fit in the freezer.”

“Geralt!”

Geralt’s lips twitch. “Its brains are useful for potions. I’m going to harvest them later.”

“Not in our kitchen, you’re not.”

“Would you prefer the bedroom?”

“Geralt, I swear to Melitele, if you get drowner brains on the duvet—” Seeing the grin on Geralt’s face, Jaskier breaks off, scowling. “I cannot believe I married you.”

“Hm. Jask, we’re not married.”

Ah, right. They’ve been together so long, Jaskier forgets that sometimes. Their friends and family are always complaining that they act like an old married couple anyway. “And if you keep putting drowner heads in the fridge, we won’t be!”

Geralt comes to press a kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. “Go take a shower and I’ll make coffee and deal with the drowner.”

“You’ll make the coffee before you touch drowner brains, right? Avoid cross-contamination?”

“Drowner brains are good for you. Protein.”

Jaskier huffs and turns on his heel to leave the kitchen. “I want a divorce.”

“Again, not married.”

Jaskier starts up the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “Then we should get married just so I can divorce you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!” Jaskier makes it to the top of the stairs, then pauses, registering what they just said, and turns around. “Geralt?”

From downstairs, there’s the rumble of Geralt’s answering hum. “Hm?”

“Did we just get engaged?”

“I think that’s traditionally what comes before marriage and divorce.”

Jaskier hurries back down the stairs so fast that he nearly trips over his own two feet. He finds Geralt standing right where he left him in front of the fridge. “Do you really want to get married?”

Geralt looks at him like he’s started singing in gnomish. “Sure.”

“Sure?” Jaskier lets out an exasperated laugh. “Geralt, my love, this is one of those things where I’m going to need an unequivocal yes or no from you.”

Geralt leans against the front of the fridge, frowning slightly. “I never thought you wanted to get married.”

“What?” Jaskier is bewildered. “When did I say that?”

“Back when you were dating Vespula.”

“Geralt, I was twenty-two when I dated Vespula! That was nearly a decade ago! Of course I didn’t want to get married.” Jaskier throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. “I never thought you wanted to get married. All that witchers walk alone bullshit.”

Geralt’s lips twitch. “I think that ship has sailed by now, Jask. I think it sailed about five minutes after we met.”

“Well yes, probably,” Jaskier says. “So, Geralt, will you marry me?”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go through just so you can divorce me over drowner brains.”

“Darling, you should know by now that it’s going to take more than drowner brains to get rid of me. I told you when we first moved in together and I’ll tell you now, you’re stuck with me.”

“Romantic.”

“You know you love it.”

Geralt’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, pressing a kiss to the tip of Jaskier’s nose. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The few times Jaskier has pictured proposing to Geralt, he’s imagined grand gestures: singing a love song in front of a crowded stadium of fans, holding a sign as he jumped out a plane, a moonlight boat ride and a four-string quartet. But standing with Geralt in the kitchen, still in his boxers with a drowner’s head in their fridge, somehow feels more right than any of those fantasies.

They just hold each other for a moment before Jaskier pulls away. “Want to go get breakfast to celebrate?”

Geralt’s eyes are soft with fondness as he watches him. “Did you propose just for an excuse to go get pancakes and mimosas?”

“Like I need an excuse to get pancakes and mimosas.” Jaskier is smiling stupidly. “Let me go get showered. I can be ready in twenty minutes.”

“See you in an hour.”

“Har.” Jaskier turns and hurries up the steps. In the bathroom, he draws back the shower curtain, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his shriek at what he finds inside. “Geralt!”

“What?” Geralt calls from downstairs.

“What the fuck is in our shower?”

“Oh,” Geralt says. “That’s the rest of the drowner.”

“Excellent. Just so you know, I’ve changed my mind about that divorce!”

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

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softieteez · 1 year

Note

Hiii I was wondering if you can do a yunho imagine of collabing with idol s/o or crush with a dance performance which went viral and ppl start to ship them

Can you relate it to this video: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMLYv3F7f/

chemistry

link

note: i was so excited when i saw the link. these are two of my favorite dancers and this dance is my favorite. i love this request *update* this is from like forever ago but with everything i forgot about it, i hope you see this anon. idk how well i like this but.

pairing: idol!yunho x fem!idol!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, but mostly fluff

warning: hate, toxic fans (don’t be a toxic fan)

as the main dancer in a kpop group, your company often pushes you to do things like solo dances, special appearances, and now duets. you don't ever mind, you love dancing, but of course doing all these activities all the time definitely has it's flaws.

for example, stress, hate for always being pushed more than your other members, and now... dating rumors.

your company is very close with ateez's company, kq entertainment. so that meant that your songs usually get produced by their production team, you guys also get choreography from bbtrppin because the ceo of kq put in a good word. it has it's advantages. but your favorite thing about it is getting to actually meet ateez, which you've only done a couple times.

though the two of you groups aren't all that close, yet, your fandoms have caught onto the fact that there's a friendship there. so many twitter accounts to post 'crumbs' of ateez and your group. which are usually just you members talking about them or the other way around.

so it's safe to say that your fans love the chemistry that they haven't even seen, and it's brought in more attention to both of your groups. and we all know how kpop companies love attention and money.

and it seems as though the two companies came up with the perfect plan.

when you first heard the idea of you and yunho doing a duet together, you were kind of skeptical. mainly because idols don't really do that kind of stuff anymore, it's rare to see a male idol dance with a female idol. but at the end of the day, this is business, it's a professional setting. plus, yunho is a very tall, attractive man, and you would be lying to say you don't have a small thing for him. so you agree.

it was nearly shocking how good the chemistry between the two of you was, even in the beginning. now that you have been working on the dances for a while, you both have grown a pretty great friendship.

"ah! done" you grunt and fall onto the floor. you have to admit, this is one of the hardest dances you've done since your competition days.

yunho laughs, trying to catch his breath. he just stands there and looks at you laying all sprawled out on the floor. even when you're tired and sweaty, you were so beautiful to him, you always have been.

from the moment he saw your debut he had heart eyes for you. and when he met you and your group for the first time, it only grew. so you can only imagine how he felt when your ceo's told you about the duet idea.

"let's take a break, then we can go over the lift again" yunho clapped his hands laughing as you groan again.

you guys have been working on this dance for weeks, and it's been both amazing and stressful. but having yunho there made it easier, he was really good at coming up with plans, knowing when to take it slow. he's easy to work with.

the next day was the same routine, wake up, get dressed, meet yuhno at the dance studio and dance until after dark. but today would be only a tad bit different because the companies would be releasing a teaser picture today.

the picture is simply you and yunho stand with your back to the camera. your hands on your hips while yunho rests his elbow on your shoulder. you’re both wearing your performance outfits, which were quite simply but still nice.

it’s a good picture, so good that it’s your lockscreen.

“hey” yunho smiled when you walked in, he’s usually always here before you. because of this you bring him coffee and snacks to have during your breaks.

“hi” you return the smile and hand him his coffee. he finds it so endearing that even under stress and tiredness, you still find it in you to be so kind to everyone. coffee is just a small gesture, sure, but it’s more than that…

“ready to start?” he asked you as he put his coffee down after drinking a few sips. you let out a sigh and nod. you place your bag and coffee on the bench, taking your coat off and tying your hair up.

you were a perfectionist so you would always work until everything’s perfect. hongjoong and your leader, jiah, often point that out and scold which you which quite hypocritical of them. but even if yunho is in the bathroom, you’re practicing.

it’s like this for another week. for another week your members watch you get more anxious and stressed. for another week everyone gets more excited.

until… the day it releases.

“it’s up in five!” wooyoung yells, running into your groups dorms with the rest of the members following behind him. nayoon, your most hyper member has become quite close with wooyoung and san these days, no surprise to that.

“yah! you can’t just barge in peoples homes!” your oldest member, minyoung scolded. but soon calmed down when jiah explained that they were given permission to do so.

“hey! yn!” san smiled at you and gave you a high five.

“hi!” you giggle as he brings you into a hug. you greet all the ateez members, including yunho of course, before everyone sat in front of the tv waiting for the firestick to load.

“are you nervous?” yunho asked you. the rest of your members were all huddled on the couch so you two stood behind it.

“a little” you whisper, pinching the air with your thumb and pointer finger. “i just hope it turned out good”

“of course it turned out good!” jiah scolded you for thinking otherwise.

“yah! you guys have been working for a month to perfect this. it’s gonna be amazing!” hongjoong scolded as well. you and yunho chuckled at your leaders' similarities.

“they posted it!” mingi announced, seeing the notification on his phone.

the youngest member in your group, myung, nodded and loaded youtube. everyone screams when they see the video already in the recommended.

“ah! you guys look so cool in the thumbnail!” seonghwa smiled before the video started. while waiting for it to load, you got nervous. and when you’re nervous, you would usually hold your oldest member's hand for comfort. so you held yunho’s hand instead.

at first, he was shocked, but he gladly excepted without a second thought. he wrapped his fingers around yours, looking at your hands and chuckling over how small yours were compared to his.

“it’s starting shut up” nayoon hushed everyone.

“no one's eve-“

“shhh” nayoon cut myung off as the music began playing.

throughout the whole video, the members would scream out ‘woah’s and ‘oooh’s. wooyoung would just scream. you smiled the entire time, suddenly feeling an inner pride in yourself. yunho smiled every time you excitedly tugged his hand or made a face. he wasn’t sure what he looked at more, you, or the dancing. probably you.

he felt so happy to have shared the experience with you. the person he’s liked for so long. and even if you two remain friends, nothing more, he’s perfectly happy with that.

he snapped back into reality when everyone began clapping and cheering, suddenly becoming shy as everyone’s eyes were on the both of you. he felt his heart crack a little when you let go of his hand, though he understood.

“our yn-ie did so good!” jiah cheered and walked over to you, squeezing the life out your ribcage.

“unnie, can’t breathe”

after that, no one really checked the comments, knowing that it’d have some sort of effect on someone in the room. even if it’s not you or yunho, someone will get pissed.

ateez stayed for dinner before leaving back to their dorm. you and yunho texted until three in the morning that night talking about how happy you were. you were so so happy.

the next morning was the first one in a while where you didn’t have to do anything. so you slept in until minyoung walked into your room, shaking you awake.

“yn-ah, get up. we have something to show you”

you nod and wait for her to leave before getting up, changing into something warmer than what you wore to bed. walking into the living room, you notice the laptop is out. this usually happened after something would drop. the day after, you all would read comments so that nothing ruined your night of celebration.

“not a single bad comment found” myung smiled giddily at you and she drug you over to the laptop. she was right, all the comments were nice. and most of them were shipping you.

“people like you guys together” nayoon teased, wiggling her eyebrows. you chuckled and shake your head.

‘they’re chemistry is amazing!’

‘they’re so clean!!!’

‘wait but they’re so cute together!’

‘omg… new ship??’

you couldn’t believe you were being shipped with your crush, it was almost nerve-wracking. even though the idea of you and yunho dating made you smile a little, you can’t help but think it would make him uncomfortable.

your stomach churns as you read more, mostly english, comments on how you and yunho would make this cute couple. power couple.

“people really like you together” nayoon teased, earning a glare from your leader. they hadn’t seen those comments. they know your feelings for yunho, they also know that things like shipping with anyone makes you uncomfortable.

it’s not that you hate all shipping. no you’re pretty okay with people jokingly shipping you and your members, and jokingly shipping you and your other idol friends. as jokes. but these people aren’t joking. maybe most people would be over the moon happy about this, it only made you anxious.

“we didn’t see those ones” minyoung swore to you, and you trust her on that. they would never have you look at these comments if they saw them.

“it’s fine, i’m gonna go shower and stuff” you smile at your members and escape to the bathroom. you wash away your worries and stress of it all. finally just having a moment to breathe since you even started working on that dance.

when you got out of the shower, you just put sweats on again and relaxed. you had no schedule but you knew yunho did. he usually does honestly. but you wonder if he’s seen the comments, how he feels about them, if his members tease him the same way nayoon and myung have been.

you haven’t read from him yet today, which only made you more anxious. the worst case scenarios were running through your head. you sat in your room until you had the energy to leave it. you don’t want this to bug you too much, i mean it was expected with such a dance. a lot of skin contact, not to mention the amount of emotion it holds.

no one has really seen this type of dance from yunho either. from you? sure, but this was pretty new to him. some people knew he was taking contemporary classes, but you’re not sure if people realize just how fast he picks up choreo. the video gained millions of views in the first few hours, both fandoms combined showing just how powerful they are.

you were rewatching the dance, pointing out anything you might have messed up. but you can’t find much, you thank the camera work because the day of the filming you didn’t feel too confident. you were watching the lift when you get a text.

yunho:

did you see the comments???

you:

yeah…

yunho:

can i come over later?

you:

yeah.

yunho:

don’t worry, i’m not mad

i just wanna tell you something

you:

oh… okay… what time are you planning?

yunho:

around 5? if that’s okay with everyone

you:

yeah, see ya then

it would only be you and minyoung home. jiah already left to the studio early, which is no surprise. myung planned to go to dinner with her dad since he is visiting town. and nayoon is going shopping with some friends that she graduated with. minyoung had no plans, but you do now, kinda.

“hey” you call out, grabbing the oldest attention.

“hey, what’s up?” she asked, filling her cup with ice water.

“yunho’s gonna be over around five, you and i are gonna be the only ones home so i figured i’d let you know” you said, watching her face turn a little smug.

“oh, okay” she smirked

“what are you thinking” you squint your eyes at her

“oh nothing…” she continues smirking as she twists the lid onto her cup “just keep it pg” she completes as she leaves the kitchen

“unnie!”

a few hours have passed, it was now five but you lost track of time so you’re sitting on the couch eating grapes. minyoung was in her room, either sleeping or reading you never know. but she seemed to catch the time a while ago, she up and left to her room around 4:30.

you’re minding your own when you hear a knock. you look at the time and realize that it was indeed yunho. “coming!” you yell out. you place the bowl of grapes on the coffee table while getting up.

you open the door, seeing the much taller man standing in front of you. “hey” you breathe out and move out of his way to let him in. “hey” he repeats.

“we can go to my room if you want, minyoung is the only one here so…” you felt so awkward. you really didn’t mean to be though, you and yunho have grown a great friendship since you both began the dance. but the comments and the anxiety of why he was here in the first place was killing you.

“that works” he nods, following you to your well-decorated bedroom. you shut the door behind him and turn off the music that was playing in the back. the taller sits on you bed, waiting for you to take a seat next to him. you sit at the end of the bed, facing him with your legs crossed “so…” he looks like he’s thinking really hard on what to say.

“so?” you chuckle. he only lets out a deep breath, rubbing his hands on his sweats nervously before looking you in the eye. you begin growing even more anxious. ‘please just say something’

“uhm, the comments… i’m sorry about some of them. i know a lot of atiny-“

“it’s both our fans, it’s fine” you chuckle, thinking he’s talking about the shipping… but you can tell by his face something else is up.

“what- what comments do you think i’m talking about…”

oh?

“the-the shipping one’s… the girls showed me this morning…” your voice suddenly becomes small, what else could you be talking about?

his face drops slightly, a frown forming on his face, "i-i thought you seen the other ones," he said, more to himself rather than you.

"what other ones? i've seen the shipping ones and i thought maybe you were uncomfortable and thats wh-" you rambled on until he stopped you.

"no, no. i mean i've seen them but those aren't what i'm worried about, i was coming to make sure you're okay" he said worriedly, still shocked to learn that you haven't seen all the hate you've been receiving

"yeah, why wouldn't i be? what are the other comments?" you ask, reaching in your back pocket for your phone, but yunho grabs your arm just as you pulled your phone out. he reached his hand out for your phone. you hand it to him confused, but you don't question it. he takes your phone and puts it in his front pocket where his own phone was.

"it's nothing, if you haven't seen it that's good. i don't want you to see them" he said looking into your eyes with such sincerity that you've never experienced before. you knew there was going to be hate, but was it really that bad?

you nod your head and let it be "okay..." he smiles at you and gives you a hug.

"i'm glad you're okay" he sighed. you've received a lot of hate in the past, you're not sure why, but it's just part of the job. and as you gain more traction, the more it comes in. you and a couple of your members have been greatly affected by the hate before, you had to take a hiatus not too long ago. so you understood why yunho was so worried about it. "and the shipping comments, i really don't mind them" he comments as you both pull away from the hug.

"oh, w-what do you mean?" you thought he would be annoyed by it by now. all of you have been shipped with each other for so long, it gets old sometimes.

"i-i mean... i don't think they're wrong" he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. what does he mean? "i feel like we have great chemistry" he chuckled a little bit.

you giggled a little, the comments were quite silly. "yeah?"

"y-yeah. uhm, i have to confess something actually, if that's okay?" he looks at you as your heart rate raises, you nod and continue looking in his eyes "i really like you, y/n, and i was actually wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? maybe when the shipping comments die down" he chuckled at his last comment, hoping to lighten the awkward air.

"i really like you too yunho, i'd love to go out with you."

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