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#listen... i did it on time for the week then i started to hate it so i didn't post it
imaginespazzi · 2 days
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Part 6: Leaps of Faith
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)
(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst and Fluff
Words: 8.0K
TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3
April 2024 
“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow. 
“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest. 
If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens. 
“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly. 
“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression. 
Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”
“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”. 
“You hate trying new things.”
“I’ve grown up I guess.”
“Azzi.”
“Mom.”
“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”
“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully. 
“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”
Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week. 
“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”
Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings. 
“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”
“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”
“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look. 
“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”
“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”
“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.  
“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”
Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.
Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”
“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”
Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart. 
“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”
“Why do you need to?”
Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”
“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”
Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”
“What if you run away again?”
“Excuse me?” 
“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”
“I didn’t choose Zoe-”
“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”
“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”
“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.
“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”
“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”
“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”
***
The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.
One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe. 
And then Paige looks away. 
And Azzi’s back to struggling for air. 
It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together. 
Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times. 
And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige. 
“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”
A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams. 
“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome. 
It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get. 
As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere. 
Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words. 
“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin. 
“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this. 
“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”
Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”
“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”
She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too. 
“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”
“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”
Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith. 
“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically. 
“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back. 
“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow. 
“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”
“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”
Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever. 
“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against. 
“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”
“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”
“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”
And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home. 
***
July 2024 
The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly. 
There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough. 
Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing. 
“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”
“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”
“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit. 
“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”
Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”
“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too. 
He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”
“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle. 
“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”
Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer. 
“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”
“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter. 
Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”
“I don’t-”
“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied. 
“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”
Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”
“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”
“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe. 
“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed. 
“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”
Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room. 
“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”
Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”
She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place. 
“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.
“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.  
“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”
***
October 2024
Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough. 
“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings. 
“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”
“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly. 
If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand. 
“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe. 
“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”
Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”
“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again. 
“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance. 
“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”
“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship. 
“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”
“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”
Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”
***
“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”
Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically. 
“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”
And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.
“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose. 
“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”
***
Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away. 
“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”
“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?” 
“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically. 
“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”
“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”
“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”
“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale. 
“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”
“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige. 
“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand. 
The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp. 
“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”
Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”
“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever. 
Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks. 
Click. 
And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together. 
***
December 2024 
There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin. 
“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”
“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other. 
“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”
“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”
It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window. 
“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty. 
“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”
“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”
“Exactly. That’s exciting.”
“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile. 
“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.
“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”
“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”
Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious. 
“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand. 
“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”
And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other. 
“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”
And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi. 
“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”
They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them. 
***
April 2025
7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head. 
The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun. 
With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship. 
Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles. 
As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life. 
Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde. 
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 
A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”
Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm. 
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it. 
“Say it again,” Paige demands. 
“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”
“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. 
And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.
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catmiemy · 2 days
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Another Chance to Live Part 1 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)
Summary: Ana and you are both struggling with unwanted transfers, but maybe you can at least find happiness off the pitch.
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A/N: This is the first part of a story I've been working on for a while. I guess my way of processing my emotions about Ana's transfer. I've been in the denial stage for a long time 😅
The next two chapters are already written (just need to edit them) and so far it's a total of about 13k words. I'm now at a crossroad which will decide how long the story becomes. So I thought I'd publish the first part and see how much interest there is in a story like this to help me decide.
It felt like a cruel joke of the universe that now, now when you had been forced to leave, the woman you’ve had a crush on for years, joined your team, or well your former team. Words that made your heart crack a little more every time you thought them. Never in a billion years had you expected your team to become your former team.
Ever since you had first laid eyes on Ana you had been dazzled by her, not necessarily only by her looks, although you definitely enjoyed them, but also by her personality and her aura. She always radiated so much kindness and positive energy. It was impossible not to be drawn to her.
Sadly your paths didn’t cross all too often and when they did, Ana was always somewhere in the heart of whatever group you were part of, while you were lingering on the edges, looking in. So the Swiss woman was probably only vaguely aware of your existence, while you soaked up every detail you could find about Ana. The more you learnt, the more you liked her.
 And yes, sometimes when you lay in bed at night you made up little scenarios how the two of you would meet. One of your favorite ones was Ana coming to Atleti, not really knowing her way around Madrid yet, so you take her under your wing and show her everything. And of course she starts falling for you as you spend so much time together. It was your imagination after all, so you could day dream all you wanted.
Now part of this little fantasy was actually coming true, Ana really was joining Atlético, and it frustrated you to no end that now that she came, you were gone.  Although perhaps it wasn’t the universe being cruel towards you, maybe it was protecting you because even if you played for the same team there was no way the Swiss woman would ever go for someone like you.
Still, you spent a good amount of time fuming about it in your apartment. Possibly also because it was easier to focus on that rather than on the fact that your childhood club had just dropped you like you meant nothing.  Every time you remembered the conversation with the club’s managers you felt like throwing up, hiding under the covers for the rest of your life, and ripping off your ears so you didn’t have to listen to one more word from them. So yeah, it was comforting in a weird way to think about your missed chance with Ana, especially since it never had been much of a chance anyway.
It was harder to hold on to that strange comfort when training actually started and you had to go to Real Madrid’s training center every day. Most days were spent attempting to do your best and keep your negative emotions in check, while thinking nonstop about how much you hated this, how much you wanted to return to Atelti, how much you wanted to leave Madrid altogether.
So all in all you weren’t having the best time, barely getting by was actually a more accurate way to describe it. Then a few weeks after the season started you got a call from Lola.
“Sooo I heard you’re doing a lot of moping these days,” she teased you.
However there was an underlying note of worry in her voice. You had done your best to pretend as if Atleti’s decision hadn’t hurt you, that these things happen in football, and you were completely fine with it, but Lola had seen right through it.
“I’m not moping, I’m just quiet and focused like usual,” you quickly defended yourself. It was only partially true, you hated every single second you spent at the training center of Real Madrid.
“That’s not what I’ve heard, but how about you convince me over a cup of coffee. Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”
You didn’t even question how Lola knew that you had the day off tomorrow, apparently she had some spies at Real. As much as you didn’t want to continue talking about the misery that was your new club, you did want to see your friend, so you agreed.
“I might ask some other people if they want to tag along. Everyone misses you,” Lola continued, making you happy and sad at the same time. It was nice to be missed, but you wished you weren’t in a position where you could be missed.
Before you could hang up, Lola told you to bring “your moping buddy Misa”, then she ended the call with a cackle, not giving you any chance to retaliate. In all honesty there was some truth to it, both you and Misa were unhappy at Real, so it wasn’t surprising that she was the only person you had really bonded with so far.
Going by Lola’s words you expected a big group the next day when you entered the café you had agreed upon. What you found however were merely three people, Lola, Misa and no one other than Ana.
Suddenly your stomach was filled with butterflies flapping their wings wildly, making you somewhat nauseous as a result. You hadn’t expected this and you weren’t prepared for it at all. If it wouldn’t have been incredibly rude you would have walked right back out of the café.
Instead you walked over to the small group, doing your best impression of a friendly smile. You could have sworn you saw a knowing glint in both Misa’s and Lola’s eyes. There was no way they knew about your crush though, right?
Lola jumped up when she saw you, hugging you tightly. “It’s good to see you, chica, I’ve missed you,” she told you.
You had to blink a couple of times to chase away the tears burning in your eyes. There was no denying that you had missed her too, all of your former teammates really. You longed to be back at Atlético, and not only because Ana was there.
Right, Ana.
You extracted yourself from your friend and smiled at the blonde. Should you hug her as well? Or greet her with kisses on the cheeks? That’s exactly why you should have been informed that Ana would be there, so that you could think this over beforehand. Or, well, over think it.
Unlike you Ana knew exactly what to do; she got up, greeted you kindly and gave you a quick hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N. We’ve never had much of a chance to talk, so I’m glad we get one now.”
For a few seconds too long you started at her. You were torn between awe, and a little bit of envy, at how easily the Swiss woman had navigated this greeting, and shock. She remembered you? She was happy to see you? Once your heart slowed down from a wild canter to a moderate gallop and your brain was working more clearly again, you realized that this was probably just something Ana had said to make the situation less awkward, not something she truly meant.
“So, do you want to sit down?” Lola suggested with a smirk on her face. Thankfully she left it at that though and you quickly sank down into a chair. You felt too embarrassed to look at Ana, so you completely missed the reassuring smile she sent your way.
After that things went much more smoothly, mostly because Lola and Ana carried the conversation, allowing you and Misa to remain in your preferred role, attentive listener. Your former teammate as well as your crush tried valiantly to draw you out of your shell, but out of fear of saying something stupid, you kept your answers as short as possible without being weird or unfriendly. If only you could think of something witty to say!
On the bright side your relative quietness gave you a good opportunity to study Ana. She was stunning as always, but you could easily spot the signs of the toll this move to the Atlético had taken on her; her smile wasn’t quite as wide as usual and didn’t reach her eyes, her voice was a little duller, there were badly covered up dark bags underneath her eyes and she was a bit more subdued than normal  in general. Man, you really had spent way too long looking at any video of her you could find to notice things like that!
Then all of the sudden Misa let out a gasp. “I completely forgot I promised my neighbor I’d let in her daughter today. I need to leave right now to make it.”
You frowned at your teammate; it wasn’t like her to forget something as important as that. Was something more than her unhappiness with being stuck at Real bothering her? You made a mental note to ask Misa about it the next day, remind her that you were always there if she needed someone.
Misa’s departure didn’t really change anything in the dynamic, she hadn’t contributed much just like you. But then Lola got a phone call from her girlfriend who apparently needed your former teammate urgently. She looked at the two of you apologetically, however you could swear that there was some glee shimmering behind her regretful front.
“You girls should stay here and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Really I’m so sorry about this, don’t let it ruin your day,” Lola babbled, pressing a kiss to both your and Ana’s cheek before dashing out of the café.
You looked after her with confusion. The confusion however was short-lived, quickly drowned out by panic once you realized that you were now left alone with Ana. No more hiding behind other people, no more safety net. You weren’t ready. However leaving also wasn’t an option, there was no way you could do so without offending Ana, so you had to pull yourself together.
“I’m sorry about that,” Ana apologized, bringing your confusion back. As far as you were aware the Swiss woman had absolutely nothing to apologize for.
“They probably planned this because they think I need to be more social again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenni put them up to it, she’s been pretty worried,” the Swiss woman specified, leaving you reeling because you didn’t know how to deal with that much honesty.
“Oh,” you replied, praying that some more words would enter your brain. “Maybe they also did it for me. They think I’m pretty antisocial in general,” you finished, kicking yourself for making yourself look even more pathetic than you already did.
To your surprise Ana didn’t seem put off; on the contrary she chuckled and said, “Well we can be antisocial together then.”
The Swiss woman using the word ‘together’ in reference to the both of you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you could definitely get used to that.
In an attempt to take control of the situation and not end up blurting out something stupid if Ana asked you a question, you inquired how she was liking Madrid so far. It seemed like a normal thing to ask someone that had just moved to a new place.
However the Swiss woman didn’t answer right away, which was atypical for her who always seemed to have a reply ready. That combined with the guarded look in her eyes made you realize that this wasn’t a safe and easy topic for her. In your rush to make sure nothing that would be complicated for you came up, you had totally forgotten that Ana’s own move to Madrid had been anything but a happy occurence. Way to be selfish!
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything, that was such a stupid thing to say,” you apologized frantically
“No, don’t worry, it’s fine,” Ana quickly reassured you. “I just don’t really know what to say. Obviously I didn’t want to come here, I miss Barcelona. Both the city and the team. So I’m not having the best time to be completely honest. Then again I also haven’t given Madrid much of a chance yet. So…”
The Swiss woman’s openness left you stunned once again. This could never be you, sharing your thoughts and feelings so freely. At the same time you noticed with a surge of excitement and dread that Ana’s explanation gave you a good opening, not unlike your daydreams in fact.
Your fear of being annoying and overstepping was battling hard against your longing to get to spend more time with the blonde in the future. In the end you decided to go for it, maybe Ana would appreciate it and if she didn’t want to hang out again, she could just say so. Of course there was still the fear of rejection holding you back, but you shoved that to the back of your mind. If you didn’t ask the answer would always be no, right?
“If you want to I could show you around Madrid sometime. I’ve lived here all my life so I know the place like the back of my hand and know some nice places. Totally fine if you don’t of course, I’m sure there are many other people that could show you around.”
You spoke in record speed, making it hard for Ana to follow, which was why it took her a moment to answer. These few seconds were some of the most horrible ones in your life. If she said no now all your hopes would be shattered once and for all. Everyone always said it was important to know so you could move on, but honestly if the Swiss woman didn’t want to spend any time with you, you didn’t want to know.
“That sounds great, I’d love to,” Ana replied once she had enough time to process your jumble of words.
“Really?” You double checked, the words out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“Yeah, definitely,” the Swiss woman confirmed with a gentle smile. A smile that you returned happily. You hadn’t felt this excited in a while, it was a nice change from the bleakness that had become your constant companion.
The rest of your time together was spent chatting easily. You weren’t a great conversationalist, however with Ana it came much more natural. The blonde definitely did the heavy lifting, but you were happy with your own contributions. You even made her laugh a few times!
Later that day when you were back in your apartment you were much more critical, taking apart every single thing that you had said and coming to the conclusion that you must be the stupidest person on the planet. Thankfully you were going to get another chance in a few days and this time you would be better prepared. You would say interesting things and you would make sure Ana had a great time. The blonde deserved some joy and happiness and you would do your best to give her that.
Before your next meeting with Ana you actually made a plan; you would make a list of her interests and think of possible questions, some jokes and interesting facts you could mention. You spent one evening on it, working furiously and then you realized what you were doing, feeling very foolish all of the sudden. You scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it into the trash with some force.
This was pointless and unnecessary and totally embarrassing! Maybe you weren’t the best at coming up with things to say on the spot, but rehearsing everything like this was a role in a play was stupid. The urge to do absolutely everything to get Ana to like you was huge, however is she only liked this carefully crafted version of you that wasn’t any better than her not liking you at all.
Also, you shouldn’t even attempt to get the Swiss woman to like you. Just like you should keep your own crush in check. Ana’s life was complicated enough at the moment, you didn’t need to add your infatuation into the mix.
Unfortunately your noble plan to ignore your crush failed miserably. Whenever you spent time with Ana you fell a little more for her. It was simply impossible not to when she was the kindest, funniest, most interesting and on top of that most beautiful person in the world.
Like when you were out and about on one of your strolls to the city and a young couple approached you, asking if you could take a picture of them. As was typical for you, you hesitated for a moment; not necessarily because you didn’t want to, but because your mind was already working in overdrive, supplying you with every possible negative outcome.
Ana on the other hand smiled at them. “Of course! Where do you want to take it?”
And then she proceeded to take several pictures of the two, showing them to the couple, and when they weren’t completely satisfied yet, she even offered her own suggestions on how they might turn out even better.
All the way you were just watching them, well mostly Ana, with a goofy smile. You loved how much she cared, how much effort she put into random people she didn’t even know. No wait, you didn’t love that, you liked that, admired it.
Or when Ana convinced you to go into a tiny café. A place you would have never frequented on your own because the intimacy of it freaked you out. Not the blonde though. Within seconds she began chatting with the owner, a middle-aged woman who was thrilled someone showed so much interest in her small establishment.
The cake you got was very tasty as was the coffee and the homemade ice tea. You were quick to admit that Ana had made a good decision by forcing you to go there.
However what really pulled at your heartstring was that the Swiss woman went up to the owner afterwards and asked if it was okay to post about this place on Instagram. The poor woman almost started crying out of happiness and thanked Ana profusely, while the blonde kept insisting that this was nothing and really it should be her thanking the owner.
So it was safe to say that you fell deeper and harder every time you saw Ana. But it was okay, you had a foolproof way to make sure that the blonde didn’t figure it out and therefore her life didn’t get disrupted because of you. Whenever you echoed a statement Ana had made about how much she liked hanging out with you or that she thought you were a great person, you always added ‘friend’ into the mix; “I enjoy hanging out with you too, you’re such a great friend.” and “Aw thank you. You’re one of the best people and friends I know too!”
Sometimes when you were feeling particularly hopeful you wondered if the lack of specification on Ana’s part meant that she liked you as more than a friend. You always discarded the idea quickly though. It was much more likely that the thought of being more than friends was so ludicrous to the blonde, something that had probbly never even grazed her mind, that she didn’t feel the need to explicitly state it.
Despite having to resign yourself to the fact that Ana didn’t like you like that, it still made you happy that she was usually in a good mood when you were hanging out. Something you were secretly very proud of. Still every once in a while her sadness shined through, for example when she heard someone speak Catalan or when she saw something that reminded her of Barcelona.
One time a group of fans came up to her. They were friendly and excited and the Swiss woman matched their energy effortlessly. But then one of them mentioned how sad they were that Ana wasn’t playing for Barça anymore. You were forced to watch the blonde deflate slightly after that thoughtless statement. She was good at pretending though, so the fans were none the wiser.
When they were gone you gathered all of your courage. Up until now you had stayed in the shallows of easy conversation so this was a first and once again you worried about overstepping. But when you saw Ana’s sad eyes and the forcefully pulled up corners of her mouth, you couldn’t stay silent.
“Do you want to talk about it? I mean your transfer from Barça? I know we haven’t really talked about that or othe serious things yet, but I’m always happy to listen. I’m actually pretty good at that.”
The Swiss woman sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.
“That’s very sweet but honestly I’ve been talking so much about it lately. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing anyone wants to talk about anymore. So if it’s okay with you could we just continue like before? The distraction has been helping a lot.”
You had been helping! Happiness flowed through you and your smile was maybe a bit bigger than was warranted for a situation like this. However unless Ana was studying you as intently as you always studied her, you doubted that the blonde would notice.
“Yeah, of course. I’m happy to help in anyway.”
Ana and you kept seeing each other regularly and it was the undisputed highlight of your current life. Honestly it was a little worrying how few other things brought you any joy, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on that.
So when you were put into a situation where you had to cancel on Ana you were devastated. It wasn’t an appropriate reaction to something so small, but you had a ten minute crying session until you could even begin to function properly again. Calling the Swiss woman was out of the question though, you were still chocked up and sniffling.
Instead you texted her, apologizing multiple times and explaining that you were roped into doing all sorts of things last minute for your father’s birthday tomorrow. You could have slapped yourself for not seeing this coming. Sure, your parents had assured you time and time again that everything was taken care of, but you should have known better. Then you could have done it before today and weren’t forced to cancel on Ana.
Only minutes after you had sent the text your phone started ringing with a call from the Swiss woman. With wide, panicked eyes you stared at the screen. In the end your desire to at least hear Ana’s voice if you couldn’t see her won out. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice anything.
 „Hey I just saw your text and wanted to ask if I can help out with anything.”
You smiled at your phone, your heart warmed by Ana’s kindness. There was no doubt in your mind that she would actually follow through on your offer. Not that you would ever take it.
“Aw thank you so much, Ana! But it’s okay really. Most things I have to do at my parents place anyway. You know help them clean and decorate. So I’ll be out most of the day, and then in the evening I’ll have to bake the cake. Who knows how that’s going to go.”
You chuckled, even if you were feeling slightly panicked at the idea of baking. Normally your mother was in charge of that, but she had broken her arm a few weeks ago, so that was out of the question. Moments like this made you wish that you had some siblings or some cousins for that matter, just anyone to help you out.
“Not to brag, but I’m actually a great baker. So if you want some help, I’m happy to come over in the evening and help,” the blonde offered.
It would be nice to have some help, and you always wanted to see Ana. Plus she had brought up the idea of her own accord, so surely it was okay, right?
“That would be great actually. Thank you so much,” you replied, not giving your mind any more opportunity to drive yourself crazy.
Ana and you quickly planned everything out before you hung up and left to do everything else. With the prospect of seeing the Swiss woman later today you were a lot more cheerful than before.
“What’s got you so happy?” Your mother asked you while she supervised the decorating process.
It was incredibly frustrating since she kept criticizing everything you did. Every few minutes you had to step away for a moment, take some deep breaths and visualize how your evening with Ana would be, full of laughter and fun conversation.
“Not this, that’s for sure,” you muttered, low enough so that your mothers whose hearing wasn’t the best anymore, couldn’t here you.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you said louder, “I’m just in a good mood, I guess.”
There was no point in bringing up Ana. Nothing would ever happen between the two of you and even after knowing about it for almost ten years your parents still struggled with your sexuality. To avoid unnecessary conflict and awkwardness you never spoke about women you liked unless it was something serious. So never.
“You should focus on decorating and not smile so much. Maybe then we would get somewhere.”
You rolled your eyes, but kept your mouth shut. No point in pointing out that most parents would be happy if their child was happy. And it wasn’t like your mother wasn’t happy about it, she just wasn’t good at being pleasant around you. Somehow she always felt the need to criticize you.
Hours later you got into your car, quickly drove away and as soon as you were a decent distance from your parents’ house you let out a loud scream, releasing all of the built up frustration. Then you set your focus on the near future, on the fact that you would be meeting Ana in half an hour at your apartment. Baking wasn’t really your thing, but baking with the Swiss sounded like a lot of fun. Anything was fun with her really; just being around her made you so happy.
When you got to your apartment Ana was already waiting for you, leaning against her car. A big smile appeared on the blonde’s face when she saw you and she waved at you happily. It warmed your insides, swept away any remnant of frustration from the long day with your parents, seeing how excited Ana was to see you.
You got set up quickly, putting out all the ingredients and opening up the recipe you had settled on. Then you turned to the Swiss woman expectantly.
“So any baking pro tips from you before we start?” You asked teasingly.
Ana looked at you sheepishly.
“To be completely honest I don’t really know that much about baking. I usually only bake once a year to make some Christmas cookie,” the blonde admitted, scratching her nose.
You frowned at her in confusion. This didn’t really make any sense to you, but you didn’t want to make Ana feel bad about it.
“So why did you say you did?” You asked carefully. „I mean only if you want to tell me, it’s totally fine if you don’t. I’m sure you had your reasons.”
The Swiss woman blushed a little as she explained herself, “I really just wanted to spend some time with you today.”
Your heart started racing at this confession, your hopes going through the roof.  It didn’t take long for the logical part of your brain to bring you back to earth though. Surely this didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. Most likely Ana was just struggling today and didn’t want to be alone.
“Oh I’m sorry you’re having a hard time today. You know you can always tell me that and if it’s possible at all I’ll always make time for you. You don’t have to make up reasons to hang out.”
Ana stared at you with a pained expression. It hurt your heart to see her in pain and it made you wonder if something had happened today, perhaps something that reminded her of Barcelona?
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked when the blonde stayed quiet, but then you thought better of it. “Wait no I’m sorry, you already said that you’re tired of talking about it before and that you prefer a distraction. So let’s bake!”
You put some extra excitement into your voice and made sure to keep up a stream of easy chatter as you got to work. For a while Ana remained a bit distant and quiet, but before too long her smile returned and she began talking and joking.
When the blonde laughed loudly at a joke you had made you felt very proud of yourself for giving Ana what she needed, a distraction. If you continued to be helpful she would keep wanting to hang out with you and that was also very much in your interest. Even if the knowledge that it meant something else to you hurt somewhat every time you thought of it.
However it was all worth it to get to spend time with Ana. Everything was worth that.
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royaltozaki · 2 days
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you can kiss a hundred boys in bars
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synopsis: good luck, babe! - inspired fic (essentially sana left 6 years ago and you still can't stop thinking about her even though you're married to another man)
warnings: cheating, internalised homophobia, not chronological, implied sex, cursing
w/c: 6.4k
a/n: hi 😀 this one may not hit as many of the audiences but it was interesting to write. i zon't think i like it toooo much for how much time i spent on it (edit: the moots have made my day i do like this one a lot actually) but just one of those things i needed to get out before i was able to move on to the next thing :P weeeEEEEHHEEEE i love angst!!!!!!!
ok this one's going to be a bit different guys pls READ THIS or you'll be like what the fuck. purple text is the present. ty enjoy, that was it LOL.
▂▂⌇
you wake up with a migraine. it came not long after you married frank and it’s stayed ever since. you sit up on the bed, careful not to make too much movement or sound to wake your husband next to you. although that was pretty unlikely anyway considering how he slept.
you sigh lightly, holding your head in your hands trying to mitigate the damage.
your head starts drifting off, as it did on most nights these days. it seemed the only thing that ever worked to stop the pounding in your head was thinking about her.
▂▂⌇
funnily enough, sana was actually the reason you and frank had met.
it had happened when the both of you were at a bar after class celebrating the end of exams. sana being sana had made a whole group of friends 10 minutes upon entering the establishment. you were sitting back watching her challenge someone to down the most shots in one minute. you would have stopped her on another day but after the hell week she's been through with her finals, you figured she deserved it. and you'd be there to take her home afterwards anyway.
she's whooping and jumping around, turning back to you with a grin when she wins. the poor loser skulking away back to his friends.
frank goes up to her then. introducing himself with that kind voice of his, just making sure she had someone to go home with and look after her.
and sana adored the attention. she's flirting with that charm of hers that no one could resist. but strangely enough, frank resisted. he was a gentleman, not wanting to pursue anything while sana was intoxicated, instead, he asked who could look after her, and sana points to you.
▂▂⌇
you're not getting back to sleep. instead you silently step out of bed, grabbing your phone and the hidden pack of cigarettes you kept in the second drawer of your bedside cupboard.
you step outside onto the balcony, breathing in the cool night air, shivering a little as you wrap the blanket you left on the balcony chair around you.
you click the lighter on, the small flame illuminating the darkness of the night, the only other light source aside from the moon. you're thinking if sana's somewhere she can see the moon right now while you put the lighter to the end of your cigarette. is it night for her? was she asleep? did she ever think about you?
you bring the stick to your mouth, inhaling, feeling the roughness of the nicotine hit your lungs, and exhaling softly, watching the wisps of smoke dissolve into the night sky.
sana hated when you smoked. frank didn't like it too much either, but he was never able to stop you.
▂▂⌇
"do you have to do that here?" sana's frowning when you release a puff of smoke into the air.
"sorry. stressed." you mumble in response, cig still stuck between your lips.
"you know i can help with that. just not when you taste like an ashtray." sana's still staring at the cancer stick you're sucking on with contempt, she never hated anything but if you had to place your money on something it'd be your bad habit.
you're smiling sheepishly, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and smooshing the end until it's not burning anymore.
the frown on her face is gone immediately, she's charmed you listen to her so easily. and she sticks to her word, stepping closer and leaning in.
your lips meet lazily, she's got a hand on your cheek, the other at your waist. you're wrapping your arms around her hips, holding her against you as your lips slot against each other.
sana was an attractive woman. there was no doubt about that. the two of you had met during high school. she had caught you sneaking off for a smoke during P.E. and had somehow convinced you to go and get your nails done with her instead. ever since then you two had been inseperable.
it was after you broke up with your first boyfriend in college that you started sleeping together. you remember he had decided to call it off because he was going all mormon and was ashamed of having had sex already, calling you a 'sex-addicted whore who was sent by the devil to tempt him into the flames of hell'. sana despised that he made you feel unwanted, and even more that he blamed you for the break up. she needed you to know just how valued you were, just how wanted you were, and in her drunk dazed mind that meant worshipping you until you came crying under her. and in your drunk dazed, heartbroken, self-pitying mind, you let her.
when it happened again, and again, and again, and then not under any alcoholic influence, the both of you decided to continue seeking each other out for sexual relief whenever you were stressed, or in any sort of mood that called for sex. you stopped every time one of you started a new relationship, but you always found your way back into each other's arms eventually.
▂▂⌇
you curse lightly when you reach the end of your cigarette.
picking out another one, you’re repeating your actions, lighting it up, bringing it between your lips, inhaling, feeling it fill your lungs, and then pushing it back out.
there hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where you hadn’t thought about sana. frank didn’t get it at first. he asked you why you couldn’t just call her, you two were the best of friends, surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to reconnect?
he didn’t know you slept with sana on the night of you and frank’s wedding. doesn’t know the countless times you’ve slept with her before that. doesn’t know sana woke up earlier than you the next day, disappearing into the early morning, no note, no text, nothing. you were too ashamed to try and contact her for weeks after that, it wasn’t until you came back from your honeymoon that you realised you were knocking on an empty door when you tried to find her at her apartment. it was cleaned out, no furniture, no remnants of her, nothing to prove she even existed. you had called her over and over, tears of desperation spilling over, holding back choked sobs that only grew stronger with each voicemail message.
it wasn't until sana's old landlord holding a 'for lease' sign in his hand comes and kicks you out that you finally realise you'd lost her.
after that, your relationship with frank started to deteriorate. what did you expect though? was it sana's fault? if sana hadn't left would you have lived happily ever after, the three of you together?
it took a long time to realise the answer to that was no. you spent years blaming sana for leaving, and when you finally came to the terms that you were the one who drove her away, it was too much to bear.
▂▂⌇
"y/n!"
you smile at the sound of sana calling you in the corridor, turning to meet her hug as she crashes into you.
she starts talking your ear off and you nod along enthusiastically, but suddenly she stops, looks down to your hand, intertwined with someone else's.
"oh. who's this y/n?"
you look over at your newest boyfriend in surprise, almost forgetting he was holding your hand and standing next to you. you tended to forget a lot of things when sana was around.
"oh this is danny. we met at that bar i told you about last week remember?"
"hmm..." she's looking up at him in scrutiny, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. you can feel danny's palms start to sweat under her gaze.
"one week huh? not bad, let's see how long you last, if you go longer than a month then i'll introduce myself to you." sana says then.
"sana!" you're hitting her lightly, flabbergasted at her insinuation.
"what? your last one was like 3 days. you just keep breaking these guys' hearts y/n." she places a hand over her heart dramatically.
danny's tightening his grip around your hand, speaking up, "excuse me, i don’t appreciate you wishing doom on our relationship even before its started. and i wouldn’t want to be introduced to a slut who’s never had a real relationship before anyway.”
sana’s speechless for a second but her face morphs into a scowl quickly after, “okay danny,” spitting out his name, “first rule of being a decent boyfriend? don’t talk shit about your girlfriend’s best friends. let’s see you last another hour after that comment.” she turns to you, raising an eyebrow, “you gonna let him off with that y/n?”
you’re stuck, and danny’s looking at you expectantly.
“sana… that comment was a little uncalled for y’know… you did kinda start this…”
danny’s smirking, looking smugly back towards sana.
“what?! are you serious right now y/n? y’know what? i don’t care. your life and whatever. see you later.” she’s stomping off, your heart sinking as you watch her.
“c’mon babe, forget her. let’s go get sushi.” danny doesn’t wait for a response before he’s pulling you in the other direction.
▂▂⌇
when you wake up again the next day, frank’s gone.
you stumble to your feet, clumsily making your way to the bathroom.
it’s almost late afternoon already. you’re lucky you didn’t have work today.
sana always used to scold you if you woke up past noon. she said you'd waste the whole day sleeping when you could have been spending it with her.
these days the second option wasn't exactly viable.
you cringe a little when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. unkempt hair, dark circles under your eyes, visible signs of ageing. you'd bet sana still looked as radiant as she was all those years ago.
your phone starts buzzing when you turn on your electric toothbrush. it couldn't be anyone else other than frank. you didn't really talk to anyone else anyway. after sana left, you became a social recluse, and a lot of your friends were technically sana's friends so without that mutual connection anymore, you drifted from them very quickly.
“hello?”
“hey y/n, is my white button-up back from the dry cleaners yet? i need it tonight for this work event.”
“… no you didn’t tell me to pick anything up.”
“what? i left a note for you on the fridge did you not see it?”
“i just woke up frank.”
“it’s 2pm.”
“yeah.”
you can hear him sigh over the phone, “alright it’s fine i’ll pick it up after work.” he hangs up abruptly after he says that.
no goodbye, no i love you, he doesn’t call you by any pet names anymore either, just y/n. well it’s not like you did any of those things for him so you suppose it’s fair. he did do a lot of those things when you were dating and early in your marriage but eventually, when you stopped responding and got more and more tired of being with him, he stopped trying as well. you can’t even remember the last time you were intimate together.
frank had suggested the both of you try out marriage counselling but you were strongly against the idea. you didn’t feel particularly excited about disclosing everything that went on with sana with frank let alone with a complete stranger. you remember that week you fought about it and you ran away and didn’t come back until a month later. frank only tried to call you once during that time.
▂▂⌇
you were standing in front of an apartment door in japan.
you weren’t really thinking when you stood at the front desk of the airport, demanding a ticket for the next flight to osaka with only a small backpack and some essentials you were able to grab after your fight with frank.
it wasn’t until you were physically in the plane that you realised you didn’t actually know anyone but sana there. and you had made that unconscious decision because being with frank was simply too… nothing, and being with sana was… everything. it had been over 6 years since you had seen her last, when she left you that quiet night in may.
though it seems fate was on your side this time. sana’s cousin just happened to be working at the airport the night you arrived, when she recognised you, she was waving excitedly, ushering you over.
“y/n right? oh my goodness i haven’t seen you in so long! not since that time sana brought you here 7 years ago right?” her accent is a little thick but you’re grateful she can speak korean regardless, you could only understand very basic japanese picked up from sana.
you’re nervously rubbing the back of your neck, “ahaha yeah… do you actually happen to have sana’s address?”
she frowns a little, “she didn’t give it to you when she found out you were coming?”
it seems like sana hasn’t told many people about your relationship with her either.
“u-um ahaha no she must have forgotten. you know how she gets… too excited she forgets the important little details.”
the cousin laughs a little in response, agreeing and quickly typing in sana’s address on your phone. internally you’re thanking all the gods and deities you know of for this stroke of luck or you’d really be stranded in osaka with no knowledge of the language and nowhere to stay.
“i have to get back to work but say hi to sana for me! we haven’t seen her much since she came back a few years ago, she’s been really busy with work i think.”
you nod, heart pounding at the tidbits of information you’re getting about sana. anything to fill in the 6 year gap you’ve been apart.
you wave goodbye, thanking her again and then you’re hailing down a taxi and showing the driver the destination on your phone.
so now you’re standing in front of her apartment door, hands sweaty and nervous, just praying she wouldn’t kick you out or worse.
you’ve been standing here stupidly, deliberating when, how, if you should even knock. when there’s a slight commotion to your left, the sound of a bag of groceries dropping and a light gasp.
“y/n?”
it’s very cinematic when you turn, sana coming into view for the first time in so long is like finding water in a desert. you’re drinking her in hungrily, her darker hair, smile lines, perfect nose, she looks just as beautiful as you remember.
“sana…” you’re voice is hoarse with emotion.
she’s taking slow steps towards you after picking up her groceries. one… two…
“what are you doing here?”
“i-i- u-um i-“
“how did you get my address?”
“u-um i saw y-your cousin at the airport and she recognised me and i- i may have asked her for your address... i'm sorry! i would have called or like let you know but... y'know... i-i couldn't really do that..."
she considers you for a little bit, looking you up and down, her face stoic.
"...did you come here for something then?"
"i- um- well not really it was k-kinda an impulse decision. u-um frank and i fought and i just- i don't know i went to the airport and i found myself here i guess..."
you notice how her hand tightens at the mention of frank's name, the slight sound of the crinkling of her grocery bag.
"and what did you want me to do about that?" she's pushing past you now, taking out her keys and starting to unlock her door. you begin to panic, scrambling for words.
"i- sana please! i- i'm sorry! i'm sorry okay?"
the jingling of her keys stops, but she doesn't look back at you.
"what are you sorry for? i'm the one who left remember?" her voice is bitter and a little shaky, you realise she's not facing you because she's trying not to cry. you ache to hold her.
"i… i’m the reason you left though. right? it took me a long time to realise but i’m sorry i wasn’t able to be true to myself and i’m sorry you were a casualty to that. i missed you sana…." your voice is quiet, you feel your own tears welling up in your eyes.
“… what weren’t you true to yourself about?”
you take a big inhale, breath shaky when you let it back out. “that i love you.” your voice is tiny, you just confessed your love for the woman you’ve spent most of your life with, the woman that’s occupied your mind every second of every minute since she’s entered your life. the woman you were too scared to admit you loved, who waited for you to do exactly that only for you to enter a loveless marriage with someone else. you can only imagine the pain you’ve put her through. it would be nothing compared to the last 6 years without her. and the last 6 years without sana were undoubtedly the worst of your life.
sana’s sniffling now, unable to hold back her cries.
you inch forward and tentatively place a hand on her shoulder. when she doesn’t move it, you shift closer again to wrap your arms around her loosely.
suddenly sana’s turning and burrowing her face in your neck, you feel her wet tears stain your skin, but also your own start to run down your face. you're surrounded with sana sana sana, her smell, her sounds, the feel of her against you when you tighten your arms around her. you missed this so fucking much. you missed her. and for the first time in 6 years, you finally felt like you were home again.
▂▂⌇
after you've finished your morning routine, you lazily trudge into the kitchen, discarding the small note frank had told you about, and pouring yourself a bowl of cereal.
you sigh into the empty house. frank wanted kids of course, that's why you bought such a large house in the first place. he had dreamt of the whole white-picket fence family and you were excited to share that with him and sana. she had helped you design the place, decorate it when you first moved in, she was meant to move across the street and you were going to grow old together and watch as your kids played around and became the best of friends, just like the two of you were.
now though? you hated this house. it just felt so much more empty. you and frank had tried for kids, although that only really drove you further apart. sex just became more of a chore than something you enjoyed, and when people know you're trying to get pregnant? suddenly everyone has their 2 cents on what you should eat, what types of exercise you should do, the latest superfood that was meant to make you more fertile. everyone seemed to have more control over your own relationship, over your own body than you did.
eventually, the small amounts of love you and frank had for each other, fizzled out. and you decided you didn't want to raise a child in a loveless marriage, that wouldn't be fair to them. frank, even with his endless optimism and kind soul, agreed.
▂▂⌇
that night in japan, for the first time in six years since you saw sana, you were able to kiss her again, to feel her bare skin against yours, to taste her as she writhed and cried out your name above you.
you woke up before her the next day, sun sluggishly making its way past the horizon. you watched as her breaths came in and out, soft, her expression at peace, not clouded with anger or sadness at you. you traced the lines of her face, recollecting every single hair, every mole, every perfection and imperfection on her, so she'd always be with you in your memory.
she stirred after a while, blinking softly and you wait for her to come to, fingers tracing soft lines over her side.
you feel her freeze under you, breathing picking up, just barely noticeable but you were sharing the same airspace. her eyes meet yours for the first time that morning and you're committing the brown irises to memory now as well.
"you didn't leave." her voice is laced with morning fatigue.
you only hum in response, continuing to trace random shapes into her skin.
"why?"
you take a moment to think about your answer. years ago, you would've been terrified with the idea that someone would've found out about the two of you. that someone would know your dirty little secret. and that secret was that you were in love with your best friend. it was different for sana. sana was flamboyant, and proud, and happy. it wouldn't matter who sana liked because that didn't take away from her personality. she was still valuable as a person. you weren't like that though. you were always just sana's best friend or danny's girlfriend or frank's girlfriend or whoever else you dated at the time. the moment you deviated from that, a new label would be stuck on you, and people would pity sana, talk about how she could do so much better, how you were a witch who lured sana in. so you were selfish. you took from sana, and you never gave back. because sana was perfect in your mind, and she didn't need anything else.
"i'm sorry. there's a lot to be sorry for and a lot i need to make up to you. but at the core of it all, i love you sana. these six years without you have been hell. and i'm sorry it took that long for me to realise this, but i love you, not frank, not anyone else, just you."
you feel your eyes begin to tear up, heavy with emotions, sana's mirroring you, her bottom lip slightly quivering.
"what happened with frank?" her voice is a little shaky.
"we fought. i didn't want to deal with him anymore, my feet took me to the airport, and i ended up here."
sana sighs then, turning away from you and lying on her back. "so you're still together?"
"well... i- no but-"
"how is this time any different then y/n?"
"i- i- it's over, me and him. seeing you again has affirmed that for me. there hasn't been love between frank and i for a long time. i never loved him the way i love you. i'm ending things as soon as i get back. i promise sana. please- please believe me." you're scrambling a little, you couldn't afford to lose sana again. not after you had just gotten her back.
you can see tears running down the side of her face. you hate yourself for making her cry. that seems to be all you ever made her do.
"okay."
"okay?"
she turns to you again, wiping at her eyes, "okay. i really shouldn't but i love you too much and i've missed you too much to say no."
"really?" your perking up, disbelief clear.
"you keep asking me that and i'll change my mind." she teases, smiling for the first time.
you're overjoyed. rolling onto her and sweeping her up in a kiss, hoping your actions convey your feelings for her better than your words do. she's laughing into you and god have you missed that sound. you attack her sides immediately, almost desperate to hear it again, to make her feel something other than the sadness you've caused her. you make a promise to yourself in that moment, that you'd never, never make sana cry again.
it took you only a month to break that promise.
▂▂⌇
"hi, frank's wife right?"
you resist the very strong urge to roll your eyes, instead nodding politely and listening as the woman who approached you launches into a conversation about her husband and how he and frank got along at work and really you couldn't care less.
you were at the work event frank had mentioned in the morning. he did end up picking up his own dry cleaning and you saw him briefly at the event when you first showed up, only saying a quick hello and kissing your cheek before he was off again mingling and entertaining guests.
you had intended on just sticking to the bar and making use of the free-flow alcohol but now this woman was talking to you about her kids, and whatever else and you really just want to throw your drink in her face and yell at her about how to read a room.
you spot frank in the corner of your eye, surrounded by a group of women. you knew he had slept with other people ever since you stopped accepting his advances and affection. you're honestly surprised he hasn't asked for a divorce yet.
but frank was kinder than you. you were still his friend before you were his wife. he still cared about you and didn't want you to be left alone. you couldn't seem to convince him you were fine alone. you learnt to be fine when sana left. although lately, even he seemed to see you less as a friend and more and more, just as his wife.
▂▂⌇
"i still can't believe that time you thought danny was a good choice for you. and you defended him too!" sana was laughing, slapping your arm playfully.
you whine in response, "i told you i was sorry for that alright!!"
she's still laughing when frank comes back to the two of you, looking at you inquisitively and gesturing vaguely towards sana. you shrug, helping him set the food he had ordered for the three of you on the table.
"what's funny sana?" he asks, sliding into the booth with you and picking up a burger.
sana's waving a chip around now, pointing at you, "just talking about y/n's shitty taste in men."
frank fakes shock, looking at you with an exaggerated look of hurt, "me?"
you laugh, hitting him lightly, "not you dummy."
"yeah you're one of the good ones franky. probably the only good one out there."
"aww thanks sana."
sana grins, digging into her food.
you smile at the two of them. your two favourite people in the world. when you first met frank, you were skeptical of him. you were sure he was only trying to be friends with you to get with sana. so imagine your surprise when he had actually been plotting with sana behind your back to ask you out. you had said yes of course, he was a sweet guy, attractive too, and most importantly, sana liked him.
you ended up hitting it off, and the three of you were almost inseparable after that.
it wasn't until about 7 months into your relationship that sana started distancing herself. she would say she was busy, turn down more offers to go out, start hanging around a new group of people.
you heard from frank later that they had some sort of disagreement, which was why sana had started avoiding you. you were hurt by this though, because sana was still your friend. she was yours before you were frank's, and even when you were frank's you were still hers. didn't she know that? she had to.
you intended for her to know that when you cornered her, a late afternoon on a friday when the three of you used to go out for ice-cream as a reward for the week's end, but she had been staying behind to study or always had something else on instead.
"why are you avoiding me?"
sana's eyes are everywhere, her movements skittish as she tries to look for an escape before giving up and huffing. "i don't know what you're talking about."
"yes you do."
"no i don't."
"stop this sana. frank told me the two of you fought. if you don't want to be around him fine. that's your choice. but that doesn't mean you get to avoid me too."
she looks at you then, eyes fiery, "is that what he told you?"
you nod, "i don't understand sana. i don't care that you fought. i can seperate us and my relationship with frank. you're still my best friend."
"we fought because he told me he felt like i was stealing you from him."
"what?"
"yeah. he said he never got to spend any time with you. i was always there. he felt like he was the one who was third-wheeling our relationship."
the words third-wheel and our relationship swim around in your mind, "w-what? that's impossible!"
"is it really though y/n?" sana's voice is soft now.
"what do you mean?"
"i mean, is it really impossible for you to see us that way? frank obviously did, and he felt threatened by that."
"w-what- sana what are you talking about?"
she sighs a little in frustration, and then suddenly she's yanking you forward by the collar and planting her lips against yours. you react automatically, kissing her back, hands immediately going to her waist as you revel in the feeling of her soft lips against yours. it was always so different kissing sana compared to all the other guys you've been with. you chalked it up to the fact that sana took care of her skin, her lips, the way she smelled, all of that made kissing her that much sweeter.
but then you remember frank and you're pulling away, breaths heavier than they were mere seconds ago. "what the fuck sana?!" you're whipping your head around, looking to see if anyone had seen the two of you. it seemed to be clear.
sana's chuckling lowly, wiping at her lips, face downcast.
"what were you thinking?! i'm with frank! you set me up with frank!"
her eyes meet yours again, and you're taken back by the glassy look on her face. she's whispering, "i know. i know and i hate myself for it. i thought- i thought if- i thought i could get over this if i saw you happy with someone else. and then you were! and i just felt worse y/n. and then frank could tell and that was the last straw i guess. i needed to be away, away from you so i could get make these stupid feelings go away. i'm sorry y/n i'm so so sorry."
you're dumbfounded, staring at her blankly when she starts sobbing, hands coming to wipe at tears falling faster than she could catch them.
you don't understand what this means, what you felt, all you knew in that moment was sana was crying. the person you cared about most in the world was crying and you were the reason for it. so you do the one thing to make her stop. you tilt her chin up, heart breaking at the sniffles and the watery eyes, and you press your lips against hers again.
you end up where you've ended up so many times. legs entangled, sweaty bodies on sheets, heavy breathing, and minds lost.
▂▂⌇
you couldn't stand being inside anymore. it was suffocating.
you breathe out smoke as you exhale, the cigarette end still burning.
you watch as someone makes their way outside, shuffling around a little in their pockets and cursing when they realise they don't have a lighter.
the person looks towards you and you hold out yours. you help them light the end of their cigarette and nod when they mutter their thanks, inhaling the smoke into their lungs and standing awkwardly to the side.
it's a few minutes here in the cold, and you're almost finished your cigarette, about to throw it away when the stranger speaks up.
"do i know you from somewhere?"
you pause, looking back, you don't think you recognise this person. "you must have me confused for someone else, i'm sorry."
"wait... no you're sana's best friend right!?"
you drop the cigarette in your hand in shock. it had been a long time since someone had said that name out loud. she only ever lived in your head, it was hard to believe she was someone to other people too.
"right yes of course i remember now! i'm momo i was sana's roommate in college. although you probably don't remember i think we only really met like once. sana was always with you around campus and posted you a lot though so i remember you."
you vaguely recall the woman as she chatters away excitedly.
"right... momo... it's nice to meet you. i'm y/n."
momo grins, "have you spoken to sana lately? i don't think i saw you at the wedding, although i may have just been drunk." she chuckles a little at herself, not realising the way your face drops.
"wedding?"
momo looks at you a little in confusion, "yeah. last month? sana got married in sapporo."
your head is spinning with the new information. sana was married?
“woah you feeling okay?” momo’s reaching out for your shoulder, steadying you. you didn’t even realise you had lost your balance.
“i-i- yeah sorry.”
“you sure? are you here with anyone? anyone i can call?”
“no. it’s okay, thank you though.”
“yeah no problem.”
she’s shuffling back again, sucking on her cigarette.
“sana and i haven’t spoken in years. i was just a little surprised is all.” you speak up when you feel a little steadier on your feet.
“oh shit! i’m so sorry y/n i had no idea!”
“it’s okay, it seems no one really does.” you laugh a little bitterly.
momo doesn’t know how to respond to this, flicking her eyes between you and the door.
“it’s fine though. i’m happy for her.” the words taste vile on your tongue. is this what sana felt when she watched you walk down the aisle on your wedding day?
momo softens a little, “she is happy.” she offers you a kind smile, tapping out her cigarette and mumbling a quick thanks before heading back inside.
once you're sure she's gone you let yourself break down. sobs wrack your body as you hold your hands over your mouth trying to quiet them. you can barely see through the tears streaming out of your eyes. this was it. you'd finally lost her. you couldn't cling to the delusion that somewhere out there, some of her still belonged to you, some of her happiness, her memories, her love. you'd lost all of that now.
▂▂⌇
"what was that y/n?"
"what?"
"don't fuck with me right now. that was frank wasn't it? on the phone just then?"
you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "what do you want me to say sana?"
"that you're keeping your promise. that you're going to return to him, break up with him, and then you're going to come back here to me. and then we can finally start our lives together."
"it's not that easy sana."
she explodes, "what do you mean?! it is that easy y/n! you told me when you came here that you and frank were over. have been for years. and now you can't tell me that same thing?"
"i don't- no sana-"
"what? what y/n? what’s your excuse now? do you have to make sure your job is secure? after you've spent a whole fucking month here you expect me to think you still care about that? do you have a child with him? is that it? is he sick? what other possible excuse is there for 'it's not that easy sana'?!"
"you don't get it! you can't say that to me sana!"
"what?! what don't i get?! tell me y/n, let's sort this shit out right fucking now. tell me why you can't be with me."
"it's not- that's just the way i am sana! i can't-"
"you told me you loved me. was that a lie then?" her eyes are brimming with tears, anger evident and your heart breaks again. you promised, you promised her and you promised yourself that this wouldn't happen again.
you're quick to step in again, trying to stop her from crying the one way you know how, brushing her cheeks with your thumbs and kissing her.
she doesn't let you get away with it this time though. she rips away from you, placing a hand on your chest and pushing you back lightly, keeping you literally at arm's length.
"don't do that." she's chuckling, her laughs mixed in with quiet sobs, "don't think you can just kiss away your problems. that's not how real life works y/n."
"please sana, please just-"
"what? you want me to be okay being your secret again? you want to be able to go around in public with frank only to come home to me? you can't have both y/n! i'm not going to do that again for you!"
you’re both crying now, standing across from each other in sana’s apartment, a place that’s felt more like home to you in a month than your place with frank has felt for you in six years.
your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper when you speak up, “i can’t- i can’t feel like this sana.”
sana’s wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. then she’s turning on her heel and heading into the bedroom.
you follow her, you’d follow her anywhere, but your heart sinks when you realise she’s going around the room picking up your belongings and shoving them into your bag.
“w-wait s-sana, what- what are you doing? stop please-“
you’re almost begging, scrambling after her trying to pull her back but she’s stubborn, she’s able to fill the bag within a minute and then she’s pushing it into you, and out the door.
“please! sana please i can’t lose you again don’t do this please- you’re my best friend sana.”
she’s managed to successfully push you out the front door now, still crying. “but you’re not mine y/n. you were never my best friend. you were always the love of my life. and you can’t be that for me anymore. so leave. please. don’t try and find me again.”
“n-no sana please d-don’t-“
“you’d have to stop the world just to stop what you feel for me y/n. but you don’t realise that. and i’m sick of loving someone who can’t give me all of that love back.”
and then she’s slamming her door shut in your face, the both of you sobbing on opposite sides of the door, hearts shattered a second time, and later, when it happens a third time, it’s only the sound of yours breaking.
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katarinaeviswrld · 1 day
Text
𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢....
if the sun refused to shine…baby, would i still be ur lover?
a/n: my first angst, no judgement pls >.<
⋆.ೃ𐦍*:・⋆𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
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─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
18+ !! MINORS DNI
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
cw: angst, troubled love, established relationship, mentions of past intimacy (sexual & emotional), slight cursing
tags ✮⋆˙ oneshot, angst, distantlover!zoro x y/n, gn!reader, falling out of love trope,
now playing: intro (end of the world) - ariana grande
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“Do you love me?”
“What?”
“Do you love me like I love you?”
He couldn’t lie when he felt surprised hearing those words out of your mouth, “Yea, why?”
You sighed, “I’ve been thinking…we’ve been distant recently and it’s making me question our relationship.” You sat next to him as you laid back on the cushioned seat. The somber blue tint illuminating on both your faces as you guys sat alone in the aquarium room. It’s quiet.
He went silent for a minute before letting out a soft chuckle, “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t ya?”
“I’m not joking, Zoro.”
The way you said his name struck a nerve in his body. He wasn’t used to this type of confrontation, rather, he wasn’t used to feeling this type of way at all. He hated it. It was like his heart strings were tugging at him as if it purposely made him uncomfortable.
You huffed, “Five weeks…” You felt your lips quiver as you swallowed the lump in your throats. You wanted him to understand, “That’s how long it’s been since we’ve held a proper conversation, since you’ve kissed me on the lips, since you told me I love you.”
“Babe-“
“Don’t mess this up, please.”
His mouth went dry at your words. He has so many questions pooling in his head. Yet, he couldn’t find the right words to answer you. His mind went blank.
He choked on his words, “I guess I’ve just been really busy training.”
You looked up at him with saddened eyes, “Is that really it?”
Fuck. The realization hit him like a truck. He questioned his inner monologue, did he really love you? You’ve been together for a year now. It felt like forever ago when you first became a part of the crew, you automatically clicked with everyone with your bubbly personality and generosity. The first time he laid eyes on you, he couldn’t help but be drawn to your aura in a different sense. The way you walked, the way you talked, the way your eyes locked with his; It drove him nuts. You were just so alluring the swordsman couldn’t understand the feeling forming in his stomach. Was he nervous?
During those two years, his feelings only grew even more for you. Everything was all confusing. He was a swordsman for christ’s sake, he don’t have time for sappy love. Yet, you lingered in his mind like a treadmill. He wanted to pull on the emergency stop so badly, yet…he still kept running.
The day you asked him out, he couldn’t help but feel his heart explode into pieces. You were just so beautiful/handsome, he felt like he didn’t deserve you. The devil on his shoulder was practically yelling him to run away, yet his conscious was practically telling him to say yes. You both shared your first kisses that day.
“I love you.”
“and, I love you.”
The months turned into a year, you experienced everything together. Sure, there were moments were you both had alone time for yourselves. Pretty arguments turned into “make up and forgets.”
But, this time felt different.
Whenever you kissed his lips, his heart didn’t flutter like it used too. He stopped initiating sex even in times when he needed relief. It was like you just became a blur in his mind as he started feeling himself slip away from your embrace. He wanted to love you back…but he just couldn’t. Each day felt like his grasp was slipping away from you. He couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it.
“I’m tired. I’m tired of waiting, avoiding the truth, running in circles for you.”
“We’re 21, not 19 anymore…For fuck sake, Roronoa, I just want you to hear me like I hear you.” Your lips quivered as you choked back tears.
“No, [name], listen. I do love you, I just got caught up with bulking up I just unintentionally isolated myself.”
Slap
The sound of the hard contact of your hand to his face echoed before the sound of water bubbling in the tank continued.
“I’m- I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”
He rubbed the impacted area, “Heh, I guess I deserved that.”
Even in times like this, he had to still be a bit humorous…You hated it.
“The faster we talk about this, the faster we resolve this.”
He gulped, “If I tell you, you would hate me.”
“I will hate you more if you don’t tell me.
“…As you wish.”
It was taking everything for you to not tear up from anxiety.
“I feel as if our paths are just too different.”
You knew it. You fucking knew it.
“Was I not good enough for you? Was I lousy in bed? Did I do something to piss you off?” You spoke in a panicked tone as you held his hands.
He gently squeezed your hands, “No, [name]. I just…I just don’t feel anything for you….not anymore”
You felt tears fall down your cheek before wiping it. It was like the world stopped hearing those words. Deep down, you wanted to beg him to take you back…But all you could do was just lightly punching his chest as you sobbed your feelings out.
“I hate you, I hate you so much.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sighed as you halted your light punches to his chest.
“So you don’t love me anymore…”
He gazed into your eyes with a gentle look, his voice had deepened, “Of course I love you, but just not the same way.”
You went silent as you decreased the pressure of your hands in his grasp, “You’re right…”
“We’re just on two different paths…”
You stroked his cheek with a smile, that same smile that was plastered on your face the moment you said your first I love you, the moment when you first stepped onto the Thousand Sunny’s. A smile that made him fall in love with you.
“I want to ask you...”
The room had become silent. Not even the ambience sound from the aquarium tanks could reach your ears. The sound of your heart pounding screaming in your ears as you coughed up your words.
“If the crew splits up permanently or if we move on…Hell, if we’re on the brink of death, old age or not,”
“Would I be the one on your mind?”
His eyes widened at your question. He felt as if his thoughts were running laps in his head.
He scoffed, “Of course, you were my first.”
You smiled, “Lemme ask you this again: Do you love me…like I love you?”
The knot in his stomach tightened as he contemplated his decision. No more kisses, no more dates, no more intimacy, no more i love you’s.
“Even if the sun refused to shine, I will love you forever and always.”
You wiped your wet tears and snot, “If the moon ever goes dark, I’ll love you back.”
You kissed his cheek before walking out the aquarium and headed to your cabin.
As he heard the door close, he couldn’t help but drop to his knees as tears fell onto the cold floor. For the first time, the swordsman felt vulnerable to his emotions and it was burning him deeply. He caressed the scar on his torso, before muttering curses to himself.
———
“Luffy, calm down! The food isn’t gonna run away, you know!” You snatched the plate from the hungry boy.
“Come on, [name]! It’s not my fault Sanji’s cooking is delicious!” He used his rubber powers to steal the plate from your hands and ran out the dining room with it.
You laughed at your captain’s actions when suddenly, you felt hands snake around your waist. As you turned around to see who was the culprit, you yelped as you felt soft lips touch yours.
“Ignore that idiot, my love. I’m surprised he doesn’t have diabetes yet.” He shot you a cheeky smile which caused your face to heat up.
“Sanji, I’m gonna dump you.”
“NOOOO MY SWEET [name]. I’LL GIVE YOU A THOUSAND KISSES IF THAT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER,” He starts to cling onto your leg like a kid throwing a tantrum.
You laughed before kissing his cheek, “Oh don’t worry, baby, you can make it up tonight.” You wink at him jokingly.
Oh man, the mess you’re gonna have to clean up from the amount of blood he let out hearing that…
“Christ, how are ya’ll this loud at this hour,” the hungover swordsman yawned.
“It’s noon, mosshead,” sneered at him.
“Whatcha say, curly brow?!”
You facepalmed before slapping their faces to shut him up.
“This is getting old, guys,” you nodded your head in disapproval.
They both apologized before they went back to glaring at each other to which you gave up on.
———
As you finish cleaning up, you turn to face the green-haired swordsman, “Oh, and Zoro.”
He felt his heart stop for a moment before replying back to you, “Uh- yea?”
“Don’t drink too much, I don’t want you dying of alcohol suffering,” you jokingly giggled before taking the sake bottle from his hand.
He laughed before shooting you a smirk, “Trust, Il be fine.”
You smiled before the cook wrapped his arms around your shoulders, “Come, Mon Cherie, let’s get away from this evil ogre-”
“SAY THAT TO MY FACE, YOU CURLY BROW ASSHOLE-”
“Ooooookay this is our cue to leave,” you laugh awkwardly before pulling your blonde boyfriend out of the dining area.
Zoro felt his smile fade as he watched you look at your new boyfriend with loving eyes. The same eyes he would gaze upon when you both were still together.
He grabbed another bottle of sake from the cabinet before chugging it down like water. The thought and sight of you with another man, especially with one of his crew mates, was like getting stabbed with his own swords. Maybe those feelings didn’t go away like he said that night.
All he could do now was stare at the ceiling while swishing the alcoholic beverage in his hand. Maybe he shouldn’t have let you go like that he thought to himself.
Will I still be on your mind?
He chuckled to himself before finishing the remnants of the bottle, “Dumbass, if she’s moved on then…maybe it’s time I move on.”
Maybe there was another universe where we got married and had kids, maybe there was another time where I didn’t lose feelings for you.
Maybe there was another time where the sun did shine…
Maybe in another lifetime…
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melodramaticatheart · 16 hours
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We Have A Deal - Lyra x Gray
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word count: 1.2k
book: the grandest game series
ship: lyra kane x grayson hawthorne
requested by anon!
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I adjust my crimson dress, the silky fabric whispering against my skin as I glance at Grayson. "You clean up nicely, Mr. Hawthorne," I remark, a hint of a smirk playing on my lips. I’d seen him with a suit on before but never one like this. The color reminds me of stormy clouds, like his eyes. It suits his personality perfectly. I silently chuckle at the wordplay, watching as Grayson parks in front of a valet. The car ride was silent, thirty-five excruciating silent minutes to be exact, it was no wonder why I was going insane making jokes to myself. 
Hawthorne boy had decided to take me out to dinner to discuss the next part of our plan. He’d showed up at my apartment three weeks ago saying he knew who I was and that he wanted to help with my dad’s mysterious suicide, all I want is to go home and regret ever calling him in the first place.
“Ms. Kane, are you going to get out of the car or will I have to carry you out?” I look at my now-open car door and see Grayson extending a hand. I must’ve been lost in thought. “No need Grayson,” I say, staring him right in the eye. I get out of the car without taking his hand. 
The first thing I pick up on is the faint noise of live music. Jazz music. “You like jazz, correct?” I spin to where Grayson is standing, watching me I realize. He looks at me closer waiting for an answer. “Yes I do, I've just never had the pleasure of hearing it live.” I hear the way my voice softens at that last part. I hate how much he knows about me. I was supposed to have the upper hand in this. I quickly dismiss the recurring thought and walk into the club without waiting for him. Sadly he catches up to me in three long strides. I walk beside him silently as he leads me to a booth at the corner of the club. Couples are dancing to the music closer to the back of the club while others enjoy their drinks at the bar to the side. It’s the band that gets my attention most of all. I’ve always wanted to listen to jazz live, but I’d never gotten the opportunity. Vinyls were the closest thing I could get to it. In one word it was electric. “How did you know I liked jazz?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. I turn to the blonde boy sitting in front of me looking for an answer. “The day I went to your apartment for the first time you were listening to the Time Out vinyl. I thought it would be better to bring you to an environment you could be comfortable in.” He’d picked up on that? I can barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but he can remember what music I was listening to three weeks ago? I shift in the booth not knowing how to respond so instead I change the subject. “I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” I stand up running a hand through my dress. “An espresso martini,” Grayson says, looking at me. My eyebrows shoot up. “You drink?” “Rarely, but I think I’m going to need it if I have to deal with you all night” I scowl at his response, making my way to the bar. I order quickly, making my way to our table to continue our impending conversation. “Ok, Hawthorne boy, why did you bring me here?” I say shooting him a look. He takes a sip before hitting me with a question instead of an answer. “Are your classes starting soon, Lyra?” I straighten not expecting that. “They start in two months,” I respond watching as Grayson takes a sip of his espresso before setting it aside. “You want to know what my family has to do with your father's suicide, well it’s not that easy Ms. Kane.” “Nothing’s ever easy with you, Hawthorne boy.” I retort staring him in the eye. “But I’m assuming you didn’t drive me thirty-five minutes to tell me that” A sly smirk starts making its way to my lips.
Grayson’s eyes glint in the dim light of the club. “Maybe I just wanted to bring a pretty girl to a jazz club.” He tilts his head, looking every bit the white rich boy persona I imagine him to be. But I can’t dwell on the fact he just called me pretty because he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket to show me something. “I found this in my family’s home, I thought you’d find it interesting.” He holds out his phone to a picture of a file named Thomas Thomas. “This isn’t my dad,” I say flatly after scanning the page's content.  
“Are you sure?” 
“Positive.”
Grayson shifts in his seat taking another sip of his espresso. It was clear he didn’t drink alcohol often with the way his eyes watered at the taste. “Your little riddle and this file are our only clues, at the moment.” He says trying to think of something to say.
I’m about to say something when he cuts me off making me shut my mouth once more. “I have a proposition for you. I’ve been debating it but I don’t see any other way I can help you.” He seems to pause a second before sharing with me his idea. “Every year my family hosts some sort of game this year it’s private. That means we can pick our contestants unlike last year-” “Grayson I know all this. What does that have to do with us?” I cut him off confused with where he’s taking this. He only stares at me. 
That’s when I realize I said ‘us’ as in me and him. A team. I sink back into the booth until he responds. “This year the game is a little different” I watch how he traces the outline of his cup “I want you to be in the games this year.” I can’t help it I burst out laughing, me on an island for two weeks, yeah right “I’m sorry I need a moment, I can’t take you seriously,” I look up to see Grayson’s straight face. The laughter bubbles up again. I wipe at the tears in my eyes before taking a sip of my wine. “No” “Why not? You’d be getting paid, you’d be comfortable, and we would be close so we could work together to figure out more. Plus I’d have more resources there with me.” I watch as he lists the reasons. Good reasons. “Grayson no, I can’t, look they are good reasons but I have a life, I have my mom who would go insane if I didn’t text for two weeks, it won’t work.” I can’t leave my life not when I have her depending on me. “I want to help Lyra I do, it’s been eating at me. And I won’t be able to rest until I’m sure you’re at peace.” He stares at me with those stupid pretty eyes of his. I look away trying to collect myself. 
“If I do this, you have to promise me I'll be able to contact my mom at least once a day.” 
“Deal”
“Ok then Hawthorne Boy, I guess I am one to play games after all.”
⊹‿︵‿୨ི୧‿︵‿⊹
THATS THAT ME ESPRESSO
this is my longest one shot ever but idk i hate my writing 😭
taglist: @heqrtlcss, @reminiscentreader, @urbanflorals, @lyrakanefanatic, @mrswarnerxo
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ghoul-slime · 3 hours
Text
Mushy May Day 12&13 - First Time & Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice (Aether/Dew)
Uh oh, starting to fall behind now. Here's my combined entry for days 12 and 13. A million thank yous to @forlorn-crows for putting together Mushy May again this year and to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!
Day 12 & 13: First Time and "Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice" - Aether/Dew, first time phone sex, praise kink, no other warnings, rated E/Mature, 1929 words
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It’s late when Aether’s phone starts to buzz. He’s already tucked into bed and ready to turn in for the night when Dew’s picture pops up on the incoming call notification. He picks up before the second ring.
“Hey,” Dew says casually. Aether can’t help but immediately notice the tired edge he hears in the fire ghoul’s voice.
“Hi Dew,” Aether answers, happy to hear from his favorite ghoul despite the late hour of the night. “How are you?”
Dew gives a noncommittal little grunt. “Fine,” he answers. “Bored though. Horny. Nobody around, though…” he trails off.
Aether lets out a laugh. The little ghoul must be lonely. As hard as he’s trying to sound nonchalant about it, Aether knows how much he hates to be alone. That he prefers to spend his nights pressed against one of his packmates. That privilege used to fall on Aether more often than not, at least it did before he stepped away from the band to dedicate himself to helping in the infirmary full-time.
“Who are you rooming with tonight?” Aether asks, genuinely surprised that Dew would ever find himself all alone.
“Nobody. Phantom ditched me to spend the night with Swiss and Rain,” Dew answers with a yawn that he hopes will hide the disappointment in his voice.
“Well that’s new,” Aether answers, sitting up in bed, genuinely intrigued. He's happy that it sounds like the newest ghoul is finding his place in the pack, though he feels bad that Dew seems to be feeling a little left out because of it.
“Not to me it isn’t,” Dew says, sounding more than a little bit annoyed. “They’ve been going at it nonstop for the past week. You should see the three of them trying to cram themselves all into Swiss’ bunk to fuck on the bus.”
Dew is quiet for a minute. Aether can hear the blankets rustle over the phone as he settles into his bed. He can tell he’s turning something over in head, so he gives him time and waits for him to speak again.
“I just wanted to hear your voice, Aeth,” he admits softly. “Lonely out here without you.” Dew lets out a sad little sigh. 
The sincerity in Dew’s voice breaks Aether’s heart. He knows that if he were out there with them, he and Dew would probably be curled up together between scratchy hotel sheets, making the most of their night off with lazy kisses and wandering hands. He wishes he could reach through the phone and pull the little ghoul into his warm nest back home, to wrap his arms around him and remind him how loved he is.
"I want to try something," Aether says after a few moments of silence. “You can say no if it’s not something you like, though.”
Dew perks up. “Yeah?” he asks, already interested. “What is it?”
“Will you take your clothes off for me?” Aether asks, a little nervous, but hopeful. “Get undressed and get yourself nice and comfy on the bed. I want to take care of you tonight.”
Dew is silent for a moment, and then Aether hears more rustling, the sound of blankets and pillows moving around as Dew adjusts himself on the hotel bed.
“Already in just my underwear…,” Dew answers quietly. If Aether were there he’s sure he’d see a light blush dusting the little ghoul’s sharp cheekbones. That Dew would insist he isn't embarrassed despite it. They’ve had each other in every way imaginable by now, but this is the first time either of them have ever done anything over the phone. Up until now, they’d never been apart long enough to warrant it.
“Take those off too,” Aether asks. “And put the phone on speaker.”
He listens as Dew shuffles around on the bed, and Aether can just picture the way he lifts those skinny little hips up off the bed to shimmy his underwear off and slide them down his thighs. Distantly, he registers the soft little thud of fabric hitting the floor.
“Dew?” Aether checks in, “You ok with this?” He knows Dew would tell him otherwise, but this is new territory for both of them, so he feels that he has to check in, just in case.
“Mm, yeah,” Dew affirms. “Gettin’ hard already, Aeth. Now what?” 
Aether grins to himself. He knew Dew would be game, and he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t something he fantasized about doing the second he found out he wouldn't be going out on tour with the rest of the pack.
“Lie back and get comfy, baby,” Aether purrs. “Get comfy and close your eyes, think of me there with you. I want you to hear my voice and imagine it’s me there. That I’m the one touching you.”
“Can you do that for me, Dew?” Aether asks, voice low and gravelly, imagining just how sweet Dew must look spreading himself out on the sheets out there all by himself, just waiting for Aether’s instructions.
“Yeah,” Dew answers in a breathy voice just above a whisper. “Yeah, I can.”
He must have the phone propped up on the pillow next to his face, because Aether can hear his shallow little breaths loud and clear through the phone receiver. He takes a minute to adjust himself in his sweatpants at the thought.
“Good, now touch yourself for me, baby,” Aether tells him, “Want you to run your palms up your chest nice and slow.” He stops, gives Dew a moment to do as he asked him. “Do it just like I would. How I would stop and feel those sweet little tits in the palms of my hands. Now give a little tug on your pretty jewelry for me, just enough to get your nipples nice and sensitive.”
Aether walks him through it, has Dew wet his fingertips with his tongue and pinch and tug at those sweet little buds, soft at first and then harder. Just like Aether would do if he had his mouth on him. He has Dew play with his chest until he’s panting in his ear over the phone, soft little breaths becoming more urgent as Aether works him up with his voice in place of his hands.
“Good job, love,” Aether praises. “Bet you’re nice and stiff between your legs for me now, aren’t you?”
“Y-yeah,” Dew answers, “‘M hard, Aeth. Getting all wet for you too. Want you to touch it. Please.”
“Lemme touch it, then, sweet boy. Lemme see how wet you’re getting for me,” Aether answers. “Spit in your hand, Dew, get it nice and wet for me. Just the way I would do it.
The wet sound of Dew spitting into the palm of his hand has Aether growling and tugging his sweats down to pull his cock out. When he hears the sound of Dew slicking himself up, he wraps a hand around the base of himself and squeezes.
“Good,” he praises, breathing hot into the phone. “Is it dripping now?”
Dew answers with a weak little uh huh, as he slicks himself up with a palm full of spit, mixing in with the pre his cock is undoubtedly dribbling out at the sound of Aether’s voice.
He has Dew jack himself off for him, reveling in the wet sounds of Dew’s hand working sensitive flesh. In the sweet little sighs and purrs as Dew imagines Aether’s big fist wrapped around him instead. When Dew whispers that he’s close, Aether tells him to stop, hands off, and the choked little whimper he hears lets him know that Dew’s done exactly as he’s been asked.
“Doing so good for me, baby,” Aether tells him, breath shallow as he starts to stroke himself. “Two fingers in your mouth for me now. Get ‘em nice and wet.”
Aether hears Dew suck two fingers into his mouth, hears the wet little sounds of him lapping at the digits. How he can tell Dew pushes his fingers all the way to the back of his throat, just far enough that he struggles not to gag, before pulling them out and waiting for Aether’s next instruction. 
“Spread your legs now, nice and wide,” Aether instructs. “Touch yourself down there, just like I would. Start slow for me and feel yourself open up when you put ‘em inside.
Dew goes silent as he does what Aether asks, running his wet digits around the rim of his already wet little hole. He feels what Aether would feel if it were him fingering him open. Feels the way he stretches so easily as he pushes inside, how easily he takes two fingers.
“Got two fingers inside now, Aeth,” Dew whispers. “Oh, it feels nice. Feels like when you do it.”
Aether has Dew finger himself like that. Tells him to feel how hot he is inside, how soft. Tells him to feel the way his rim flutters around his fingers when he pushes in deep and crooks his fingertips just right.
“Can you get three inside for me now?” Aether asks after a while. “Gotta get you nice and stretched out for my cock, my love.”
“Y-yeah,” Dew answers, breathless and sweet as he pushes three fingers inside himself just like Aether asked. “Want your cock in me, Aether.” Dew sighs at the stretch, feeling full the way he would if it were Aether’s cock breaching him instead.
“Hold the phone between your legs for me, baby? I wanna hear how wet you are.”
There’s a moment of shuffling, the sharp scratch of the speaker dragging across the pillow fabric, and then Aether can hear it. The slick, rhythmic sound of Dew fucking his fingers in and out of his wet little hole. It’s completely filthy, the obscene, unmistakable sound of sex, and to Aether, it’s the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his life.
He groans, jacks his cock faster, working to match the rhythm of Dew’s fingers. If he closes his eyes he can picture it perfectly. Dew laid out in front of him, legs spread wide as Aether stuffs his tight little hole with his cock, fucking him deep and perfect until they’re both shaking with it.
A high-pitched moan from Dew breaks Aether from his vision.
“G-gonna cum, Aether,” Dew warns. “Gonna cum on your cock like this. Oh, wanna cum with you inside me, Aether,” Dew babbles, fucks himself faster, pressing in so deep with his fingers that Aether can hear his rhythm falter as he works himself closer to the edge.
Aether’s not far behind as he jacks himself faster, the slick sound of Dew’s fingers and his breathy little moans and cries working together to send him over the edge. He cums with a shout, just as he hears Dew give one final guttural ohhhh, as he clamps down on his fingers and shoots his load.
They come down together, panting into their phones as they catch their breath.
After a few moments of silence, Dew speaks up.
“Well that was fucking hot,” he snorts. “Got this bed all wet though, good thing Phantom isn’t coming back after all.”
Before they hang up, Aether tells Dew how much he loves him, that he’s counting down the minutes until he gets the little fire ghoul into his bed for real again.
Dew says goodnight, tells Aether that he loves him back, sounding happy and spent and breathless - the tired, sad tinge to his voice chased away for the night as he falls asleep with a smile on his lips.
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Leonard 'Cold As Ice' Snart: Huh. It's been almost twenty minutes since I explained to a murderer just how much Flash and I like each other. I better do something about that.
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elegyofthemoon · 5 months
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i might be dumb as rocks lmao
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holytrickster · 11 months
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listen i dont like fëanor but i can't deny that getting so mad you literally burst into flames and crumble away into ash is kinda fucking relatable
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thestamp3d3 · 9 months
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having a man baby for a brother is the worst thing that can happen to a girl
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ricky-olson · 1 year
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i wish those super loud anti birth control people could just stop for once. without the pill, id be in so much more pain. id be more unhealthy without it. it is saving me and making me more stable. just because it didn’t work for you doesn’t mean you can call ones who rely on it “unhealthy” and “gross”
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astrxealis · 1 year
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comin in ere just rq to say tldr (final. real.) fuuta !! i want him to be voted innocent/forgiven bcs i hope he can. make peace with himself. i think he's truly a good guy at heart even if that doesn't excuse all that he did (i think he's. some sort of victim too and he deserved better. by this i mean like w his friends?? some sort of pressure and all. also the fact all the blame got put onto him which sucks but also with context, if that context is right, is rather deserved ngl. also i'm worried if he gets voted guilty bcs something bad will def happen)
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა milgram ໒꒱ *·˚#being a twitter user and chronically online did this to him /j#joking bcs yeah a bit of that maybe but i think the guy is kinda lonely. like. friends but there's the pressure from them too and all#yeah my thoughts are clearer now (phew!) i think i think too hard and too much but thinking so much was fun tbh#now i'm chill (listening to haruka's song on repeat as i try to do homework. keyword try)#he/milgram/viewers/es. the 'same'. and. agh. it is just so interesting and so so amazing to me (wow!)#but now i will try to chill (keyword try. it is 1 am i really should do my homework i hate chem)#i have more hw for the week still and then next week... i'll try to do my best and hopefully not get distracted#it's still kinda complicated bcs i want to vote 'what would be best overall' but yeah forgiving him aligns with that i think#as well as my own personal beliefs. so yeah#huh. i think i just thought way too much and confused myself (happens often bcs i try to understand all sides. oops!)#i like fuuta a lot. he reminds me of himself and that's another reason why i think forgiving him this time is for the best#and then ultimately forgiving him as well. but imo guilty first trial actually makes sense even if... at the same time idk#it kinda broke him uhh. made him unstable and all. yk the drama audio yeah. but it helped in making his beliefs better and all#i think milgram makes my brain go into overdrive. maybe even a bit too much#didn't realize how much time passed and i was just thinking and talking about milgram goddamn#hi more thoughts but yeah... he feels regret and i think hes starting to feel guilty. maybe? im not sure my head is sort of a mess again#maybe i just need to sleep. it is 5 am now. hmmm. but yeah hes definitely changed#he's heading towards improvment <3 !! fuuta innocent so true please#im still confused about whether the whole. Guilt thing#sometimes i forget what some words mean or use them as synonyms oops (metavoting and guilt oops!)
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babytrapperdiaz · 2 years
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x
#see i'll say this.#of all this bullshit and ugliness i've seen today and in the past like.. week? i really need people to understand some simple concepts#about treating others with the same courtesy you would wish for yourself.#saying 'i didn't know it was [bigoted insert]' or 'why are you attacking me' when people express distaste for something that#you. YOU. decided was ok. to disrespect korean culture. to turn a black man into a caricature. to make a brown man a rapist.#to turn every. single. one. of the bipoc men in the main cast into abusers to prop up white characters as both victims and saviors.#all of these are racist epithets. a couple of them are egregiously homophobic. and You decided to do that.#you sat down at your computer and typed the shit out. read it back five times and decided yeah. this makes sense#i hate to break it to you but that's very racist and very homophobic! you 'didn't know'. yes the fuck you did.#if it wasn't with intent. not liking chim for the same reasons you love bobby and buck' or 'michael isn't like this in canon but-'#or one of the other 50000 ways you all just 'decide' you don't like these characters for characteristics the share with yt characters?#when each season has an actual character who's villainous and could easily be written into that spot and you could just.. leave them out.#that's unconscious bias babe. you're caveman brain is telling you Asian Man Bad Black Man Worse Brown Man UGH and you are listening.#so when people get mad at you in this Free Soeech having online space for saying people who look like them deserve bad things..#and you get your feelings hurt. ask yourself. who started this? and when you come to the conclusion that it was infact YOU.#learn. apologize. fix your dumbass fic or delete it i don't give a fuck. and then do better.#do not cry sheep when YOU. are not that. and do not expect anyone's time for a lesson on human decency
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fmhobeus · 2 months
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so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*
a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!
nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.
nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.
nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.
nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?
nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.
nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (
nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.
choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.
nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?
nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.
nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.
"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."
uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.
"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.
nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.
nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.
nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.
nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.
nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)
nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.
"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."
oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.
you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.
"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.
fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.
he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.
nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)
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ayoyoungg · 1 year
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dream show 2 was amazing…i cried
#and to preface - I was excited when o started to concert prep last week by listening to dream songs#cuz it’s honestly been awhile - and then my excitement was not there honestly even during today - as in I just wasn’t hype#maybe cuz I went by myself - but then on the drive there and when I got to the venue I was like oh yeah#drive + parking + lining up was soooo easy breezy for me (literally did all three things in 1 hour)#only disappointment was I didn’t get a slogan - but that’s on me - honestly unless it’s like one of your ults or you’re doing other stuff ->#there’s no point in getting to the venue super early#I had the aisle seat and sorta made concert friends w/ the person next to me (picture bretman rock but maybe not bretman rock)#we had a lil moment in Boom where we both sang haechan’s ad lib together#anyways I don’t know if this is a gen Z thing a 4th gen kpop fan thing or an LA kpop concert-goers thing but my section SAT the whole time#which was kinda nice but kinda not??#Trigger the Fever is my all-time favorite dream song & I was so ecstatic it even made the setlist ->#I should be jumping during Trigger the Fever!! but alas we sat & so I think that bummed me a bit#but tell me why we stood for Candy of all songs 🙃 really?!#also like we didn’t chant NCT or Encore…like bruh I know we know that there’s still more but that’s part of the concert experience#Dream’s concert was amazing and really put 127’s recent concert to shambles..sorry had to make the comparison#interestingly enough though the members didn’t really talk to us like at all - just the greeting and thanks you’s??#but I personally didn’t really mind that?? I feel like they fit in more songs 🤷🏾‍♀️#they knew what they were doing w/ prioritizing giving us group perfs since it was this 1st world tour (no solo stages)#HAECHAN!! HAECHAN!! Haechan was next level artiste out of this world on another dimension - GOD his stage presence#JAEMIN was soooo good/talented like I hate to say how I was pleasantly shocked b/c my expectations were lower - not that I thought ->#poorly of him rather he stood out more than I expected - like I just noticed him - like he did his duty so well - also very handsome irl#Renjun was a cutie patootie and looked like a gnome at the end#sound at the beginning wasn’t the best but Chenle always carried!!#2019 jasmine would’ve been sooo much more hype but even now I feel like my inner ‘child’ was sated like that was everything I ever wanted#7dream literally was my favorite unit for the longest time#ok so I don’t even care for Hello Future like that but y’all they played an orchestra instrumental followed by the live stage & that got me#dream is great at having those songs that sound like hope & youth & enlightenment and so I’m not too surprised I cried#great concert..4/18/23..Honda Center#me#jt
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chuluoyi · 3 months
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HAPPY MARRIAGE
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- nanami kento x reader
“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love
genre: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!
note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3
listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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No divorce ever comes easy.
When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.
When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.
Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.
“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”
Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—
“Gojo, you prick!”
Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"
Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”
"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"
"Wha—"
"Because of you!"
"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"
You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"
Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.
"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."
Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.
He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"
You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"
"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"
"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"
You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.
And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.
. . .
He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.
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More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.
Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.
Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.
Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.
“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”
Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...
“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”
“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”
He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.
“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”
"Nanami-san, you okay?"
He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."
"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.
Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."
Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.
Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."
Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.
It might verge on invading his privacy, but—
"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."
To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."
"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."
"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."
"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"
Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.
"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."
"But still... now—"
To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:
"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."
Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."
Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”
In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.
It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.
“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”
Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.
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It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.
"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"
You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...
And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."
That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.
"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"
You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.
"I'm fine."
"Oh, that's good then."
Silence. This was the absolute worst.
Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.
He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"
You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."
Darn it. Another dry reply.
"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."
"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."
"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."
"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."
Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.
"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.
It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.
"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.
Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?
"I can take care of myse—"
"That's a whole load of bullshit!"
Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?
The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.
“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”
"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"
Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.
Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—
Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.
Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.
"Oiii, Nanami!"
He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.
"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"
"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."
“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”
“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”
What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”
But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"
"What exactly is she not good with?"
"Everything? You never ask her."
This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.
"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."
With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—
He knew you were there, hearing all of this.
Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."
. . .
There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.
But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.
But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.
By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.
Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.
You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.
At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.
Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.
This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.
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If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.
Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.
"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"
And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.
Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."
"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"
For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.
"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"
Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.
Until—
"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"
...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.
You're hurt?
"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"
Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.
"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.
"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"
"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.
At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.
Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?
This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—
To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.
Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—
Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?
Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.
Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.
And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—
Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—
Huh, what?
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The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.
"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.
His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.
“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”
“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”
“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”
“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”
“Gojo did—”
Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”
You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”
“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”
If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”
He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.
Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?
Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”
"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."
"Y/N, you're missing the—"
"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"
Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.
"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"
"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"
"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"
"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"
You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.
But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.
Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.
"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"
"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.
It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.
Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?
. . .
And that was when he decided it.
He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.
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Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.
You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.
After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."
But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."
You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.
At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—
"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.
Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.
"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.
"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."
Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.
"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."
Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?
"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."
Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.
"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.
"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"
"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."
And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—
"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."
The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.
There was only one answer you had in mind.
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Five years later
"Yes! Yes! Yay!"
Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.
A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.
The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.
The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.
As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.
"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.
"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"
"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.
Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"
"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."
"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."
"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."
Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.
Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...
And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.
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