#girlfriend!reader

Ever since you and Bucky began dating a couple months ago, you can’t stop looking at his arms. It’s pretty obvious that you like his arms. Actually, scratch that. You love his arms. Bucky has caught you staring at his arms quite a few times. You just can’t help it. There’s just something about his arms that drive you crazy in a good way, especially when his arms are crossed and his biceps are bulging. Any time Bucky is wearing t-shirts, you’re convinced that the sleeves are going to rip from how tight they are around his biceps.

When you and Bucky are out in public, his arm is wrapped around your waist most of the time. Sometimes, you hold onto one of his arms. When you’re holding onto his right arm, you always give his bicep a soft squeeze. Bucky likes it when you do that. He also thinks of it as a lovingly gesture.

You and Bucky just got back from dinner and decided to go back to his apartment. You stared at your boyfriend as he took his jacket off. More specifically, you stared at his arms. You don’t know how long you were staring at his arms, but Bucky caught you staring yet again. He doesn’t mind. He likes to tease you about it sometimes. He chuckles softly.

“You’re staring at my arms again, doll face.” Bucky says.

“No, I’m not.” You say.

“Then why can I see you staring at my arms?” He asks.

“Is it a crime to stare at my hot boyfriend?” You asked.

“No, not at all.” He says.

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you softly. Your hands found their place on his biceps and giving them a soft squeeze.

“Wanna watch movies?” Bucky asks softly.

“You read my mind, baby.” You say softly.

You and Bucky went to the living room and sat down on the couch. Bucky let you choose the first movie. You and him got comfortable as the movie began to play. You snuggled yourself against his side and he put his right arm across your shoulders. One of your hands reaches for his hand and holds it during the movie. Your fingers intertwined with his fingers.

You took glances at Bucky’s arms throughout the movie. He caught you staring at his arms again and chuckles softly. He kisses your cheek and then goes back to watching the movie. You looked at his arms again. Specifically his right arm. You stared at it longer than you should’ve. The more you looked at his arm, the more you wanted to bite it. Not hard enough to draw blood. Just a soft bite. Like a chomp. What happens next, you couldn’t help yourself. You bit Bucky’s forearm softly. Bucky jumps a bit and then looks at you in confusion.

“Why the hell did you bite me?” Bucky asks confused.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You say.

“So you decided to bite me?” He asks.

“Yes.” You answered. “Did I hurt you?” You asked.

“No. I’m just confused.” He says.

“I just couldn’t help myself, baby. Your arms look so good, especially when you wear these tight t-shirts. I just had to do it at least once.” You say.

“You couldn’t help yourself?” He asks.

“Nope.” You say.

Bucky hums softly to himself and readjusts his arm on your shoulder. You softly and playfully bit his arm again, making him chuckle softly.

“You’re weird.” Bucky jokes softly.

“You love me!” You say.

“You’re right. I do love you.” He smiles.

“And I love you too, baby.” You smiled back.

Bucky kisses you softly and sweetly. You giggled when Bucky softly and playfully bit your bottom lip.

“You bit my lip.” You giggled.

“You bit me. So, it’s only right that I bite you back.” Bucky says.

“Sounds fair to me.” You say.

Not when he becomes the designated driver for a 7 am pilates class that one of your girl friends had booked last week. Apparently it was for six people and the group (including you) only consisted of five people. So yeah, he was pretty much dragged against his will. 

“But don’t you wanna try new things?” you looked over at your boyfriend who was driving with a scowl on his face though you’re still trying to figure out what could possibly be the reason behind the scowl. It’s hard because your mind came up with multiple reasons on why he looked so pissed: 

You woke him up at six in the morning and demand asked him to attend a pilates class with your friends today.

You demand asked him to drive you there since it’s raining pretty damn hard and your friends also needed a ride.

His push day at the gym is an absolute failure (he dislikes going to the gym on any other time besides 8-10 am).

His car’s bluetooth is hijacked by your friend’s playlist.

“My push day s’ruined” his jaw ticked as the sound of your friend's failed attempt of a high note reached his ears. 

“Awh come on, it'll be fun!” the palm of your left hand landed on the side of his cheek as you used your thumb to rub his jaw in a soothing manner, hoping it’ll cheer him up.

You could feel laughter bubbling up from your chest. The situation was so funny you almost wished you could whip out your phone and take a video of it: the way your boyfriend is trying to regulate his emotions and obtain peace but your friend’s wonderful singing kept on disturbing him.

“Babe just one day with no gym won’t make your gains gone and you can always go to the gym later”. 

His brows furrow, “I don’t like going there in the evening. Too many people and a bunch of little shits with their group of friends using the damn machine together. I’d have no chance to use it”. 

You sighed, understanding his frustration because if you were to put yourself in his shoes you’d be pissed too. “Okay, I’m really sorry baby. Won’t happen again just this once I promise”

“Yeah I’m sorry for booking it without telling you guys that I booked for six” your friend’s head came in between yours and Sukuna’s. “For the compensation you don’t have to pay for it Ryo” she smiled nervously as your boyfriend's head made a slow turn towards her, “Okay don’t look at me like that I’m scared”. Her eyes made contact with yours, implying that she needs a little bit of help. 

“You”, her eyes bulged out. That was the only thing your boyfriend said as he scowled at her in silence. 

“Oh my what the hell did I do dude I already said I was sorry and I’m PAYING for it” 

“What’s up with your ass being heartbroken over an idiot and we all have to pay the price” 

“I’m NOT heartbroken”

“Yeah yeah sure say that again as if I didn’t find your sorry ass on the side of the street in the middle of nowhere crying” 

“Do NOT talk about that”

“Had to drive your sorry ass home after that too”

Your friend gave him the middle finger as she laid back on her seat while crossing her arms in annoyance. 

“You” your boyfriend pointed at her sitting on the backseat, “you got your heart broken and now the whole group got to do side quests or some shit. Next thing you know we’d be camping in the forest” 

“WITH BEARS?” another one of your friends said, the dramatic and innocent one who was always the victim of being teased (Sukuna especially love to troll her).

“With bears yeah, you’re gonna get eaten”.

Your boyfriend might seem like he was a type b person but it was the complete opposite. 

Maybe because he was a guy, someone that looks rough both on the inside and the outside, someone who looks like they’d use their shirt four times in a row because it still looks clean, someone who could care less about mostly everything, and your boyfriend was anything but.

He planned his whole day the night before, he meal prepped his meals for the week with macros that was perfectly curated, he organized his calendars, he got his work done as soon as it was given instead of doing it last minute, and he cares about the things that he held dearly.

Your friends for instance, weren't direct matters to him. But they’re your friends, they make you happy and they’re a part of your world too.

Besides, they're a great company even though he would never admit it.

Oh and the guy he called an idiot that broke up with your friend and kicked her out on the side of the road? don’t ask why he’s wearing a black sunglasses at a morning lecture next week.

©katsukiinanban, 2026. do not repost, plagiarize or feed my work into ai

a/n : I didn't proofread again...pftt likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

“Absolutely not. I love you, but no, baby. I can’t sit through an entire concert of them.”

“Why?” You plead, fisting your hands into his shirt.

“Their music isn’t for me, honey. Please.”

“Bucky, I don’t have anyone else to go with me,” you say sincerely as your eyes start to well up with tears. Alex Xela was your absolute favorite boy band growing up. You had posters of them plastered around your bedroom as a tween. This was their last tour for maybe ever, and you and Mel had been planning to go for months. You had your outfits coordinated and planned. You even made a cheesy sign with glitter letters for your favorite band member. Bucky hugs you gently and you let a few tears escape and stain his shirt.

“Love? Are you crying?” He asks, bringing your head into his hands and searching your face. “Baby, is it that important to you?”

You nod, nuzzling into him further.

“Okay, I’ll go with you,” he whispers into your hair.

“You’ll go with me?!” You ask, jumping back from his embrace, feeling like you could rocket to the moon at that moment.

“Yes, if it’s that big of a deal to my girl, I’ll go with you.”

“Okay, but there’s something you should know about the tickets,” you start as Bucky’s brow furrows in confusion. “They are VIP tickets so we get to go backstage before the show to do a meet and greet with the band and take photos.”

“You’re meeting them?” He asks with an annoyed tone.

“I’ve always wanted to, and now is my chance.”

-

Bucky wears a black t-shirt and dark wash blue jeans with boots. You look ever his opposite in a sequined lilac dress and high top Chucks. Your concert look is complete with body glitter and space buns.

“You look very cute and sparkly, baby girl,” he says as you walk out in your fun outfit and space buns. “I like the glitter.”

“And you look as stoic and handsome as ever,” you reply with a giggle and kiss to his cheek.

The drive to the venue is quick and quiet. Bucky’s hand never leaves your bare thigh and he walks extra close to you through the concert crowd pouring into the arena. He’s outnumbered - countless Gen Z and millennial women are here tonight to see their favorite band and to hopefully get an up close look at their favorite band members. You don your VIP lanyard and hand Bucky his. Instead of wearing it, he shoves it in his back pocket. You walk by a concession stand and see his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

“What?” You inquire.

“Beer is fourteen dollars?!” He huffs. “That’s highway robbery.” You giggle and pull him by the arm to the VIP line. You take out your phone and start checking your hair and makeup, taking some lip gloss out of your small purse and swiping it across your mouth. 

“Ah, don’t put that one on. So sticky,” he grumbles. You ignore him and keep fluffing your hair. 

“You look gorgeous, honey. What’s with all the fuss?” Bucky asks.

A woman in line next to you giggles and looks at Bucky, “She’s about to meet Alex Xela. That’s what all the fuss is about.”

Bucky swallows and looks confused. The line keeps moving up until you are up next. Your hands start to shake with excitement. 

“Baby girl, relax. Why are you so worked up?” He asks again, brushing his knuckles down your arm. 

“Next up, this way,” the guard ushers them through to a small back area before they are brought to a cozy room with three men that look only slightly younger than Bucky himself.

“Ohmygod,” you whisper under your breath, doing your best to stay cool and failing completely. 

“Hey there,” Alex says, “What’s your name?” 

You give him your name and feel a blush start to creep into your cheeks.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, opening his arm to wrap around you in a hug and posing for the photographer. “Thanks for coming out tonight.” You feel like you could pass out. It’s been your dream since age twelve to hug Alex Lordes,  and now it’s finally happening. You turn to look at Bucky and see a stern expression clouding his face. Another member of the band extends his hand to shake Bucky’s and he begrudgingly offers his, shaking it firmly. 

“Thanks for coming. I hope you enjoy the show,” he says to Bucky, trying to be friendly.

“Just along for the ride,” Bucky explains, nodding toward you.

“Hey, man, that’s great,” Jesse says with a smile. “I love seeing fathers bring their daughters to our shows. I hope I can do that with my little girl someday!” Your eyes widen and you snort, looking at Bucky’s pissed off expression that’s slowly turning into a smirk.

“That’s right. Gotta keep our little girls happy, don’t we? Good luck tonight,” he says as he shakes the other band members’ hands and walks out of the room behind you. You walk ahead of him a bit faster, nervous about the dark glint in his eye.

“Baby girl, where are you off to in such a hurry? Let your old man catch up.” He chuckles as he says the last part and you turn around. He opens his arms and picks you up, spinning you around. “You have a little crush on Alex, huh?”

“I did… when I was a teenager. I don’t anymore. I just wanted to meet them. I’ve always wanted to.” You swallow, looking up at him under your lashes. “I swear, Daddy.” You crack a smile at the last part. It wasn’t a nickname you’d ever used for him, but the earlier interaction made you both laugh. Bucky was a decade and some change older than you, but neither of you ever minded. Technically, he was several decades older than you, but on the outside no one had to know. 

“I don’t believe you, love.” He takes a step toward you so your chests are touching. The first chords of the opening act echo through the arena. “Let’s go find our seats.”

“Yes, sir,” you agree, taking his hand and letting him lead the way. He starts walking in what you think is the wrong direction. 

“Bucky, I think we’re actually supposed to go that way,” you say, turning around with his hand still in yours. 

“No, don’t think so, sweet pea,” he growls, dragging you behind him up a small side staircase. 

“Where are we-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I upgraded us,” he says simply, leading you up the last few steps to a private room. It’s up high in the arena, but the view is still amazing. You walk into the small room and look around - there’s a bottle of champagne on ice, a TV screen that’s focused on the stage, a plush sofa, a mini fridge with snacks and water, and just the two of you.

“How did you manage this?” You ask, taking in the fancy private room.

“I’m a Congressman. Comes with certain perks.”

“Bucky, thank you,” you say, running across the tiny room and jumping into his arms. He catches you with a hmph and wraps his arms around you.

“You still have your seats in the crowd if you want to be among the people,” he jokes. “I’ll go with you. It’s just nice to have this space if it gets to be a bit much down there.” He looks at the mass of screaming fans - mostly women - and shudders.

The opening act - a band you’ve never heard of, but are vibing with - finishes up their last song. 

“Almost time for your boyfriend to go on,” Bucky grumbles from the couch, an overpriced beer in his hand. 

“Yep, you’re right,” you play into his grumpiness. “Do I look good for him?” His eyes darken as you ask the question and twirl in your dress. 

“For him, huh?” He huffs, rolling his eyes, taking a long swig of his beer.

“I’m just teasing you, bub. Jeez, lighten up,” you assure him as you offer your hand to him to get off the couch. He groans and stands up, walking over to the window to watch the main act start. He stands behind you, boxing you in against the bar table between his arms and kisses your neck, whispering softly.

“You look good… for me. No one else. Got it?” he growls with a nip to the hollow of your throat.

“Yes, sir,” you sigh contentedly, resting your head against his broad shoulder. His cologne fills your head and you feel your knees wobble. Your eyes catch three familiar figures walking across the stage and you gasp in excitement. “It’s time, babe! Can we go down to our floor seats for a little bit? Please?” You beg.

“Are you going to behave?” He whispers, bringing your face up to meet his stern gaze.

“Maybe,” you tease, rushing out of the private booth down the side stairs.

“You little-” you hear Bucky start to say, but can’t hear the rest as you run down the hallway to the arena stairs. He catches up to you quickly and heaves you over his shoulder, making sure your dress covers your butt. “Let’s go. You can sit on my shoulders for a better view, princess.”

-

The crowd is on their feet by the third song and every voice in the arena is singing along to one of their most beloved songs. Bucky envelopes you from behind, wrapping his arms around yours and swaying to the music with you as you shout out the lyrics you know by heart. You’re close to the stage and track Alex with your eyes as he struts up and down, microphone in hand.. He sings the bridge and makes eye contact with you and winks. Winks? Oh… fuck. He must have recognized you from the meet and greet, but you brush it off quickly. He’s simply working the crowd. Bucky tightens his grip around your arms and leans down to whisper in your ear so you can hear over the music. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see that. I’m not blind.” 

You turn around to face him and pull him out of the crowd to the side. “Take me to our booth. It’s getting hot and overwhelming down here.” He nods and takes your hand in his, leading the way back to your suite. The set of his shoulders is all you need to see how pissed off he is. That wink - yikes. 

“Baby?” You ask as you get up to the booth and he shuts the door behind you, clicking the lock that you didn’t notice before. “Uh, are you okay?” 

“M’Fine,” he grunts, uncorking the champagne and taking a sip directly from the bottle and avoiding your gaze.

“Bucky, you’re mad,” you breathe out, taking a step toward him. His eyes flit to yours and they are full of fire. “Don’t be upset. It was nothing. He’s just working the crowd.” 

“You liked it. I could feel your heart racing through your chest. Champagne?” He asks, setting a glass on the bartop with a clink. 

“Sure,” you whisper. “Thank you.” He pours the bubbly into a glass and hands it to you, looking out at the stage and not at you. 

“Are you jealous? Because there’s no-” you start, but stop when his dark eyes snap to yours.

“What if I am?” He asks suddenly.

“I’d tell you that there’s no reason to be,” you say as you walk softly to him. “That I’d never ever do anything to betray your trust. That I only have eyes for you. That everything I am… is yours… my heart, my soul, my mouth,” you stand on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “and my pussy.”

“Oh, I know you’re mine. All of you,” he assures you with a swat to your butt. Suddenly you hear the familiar chords of your favorite song begin and your eyes light up.

“This sounds familiar. You’ve played it around the house before. It’s your favorite, huh?” He asks, walking over to the window with you to watch the performance.

“Yeah, it is,” you say, bringing his arms around yours and swaying to the music again. He moves a hand down to rest over your ass, testing the waters. You press your backside into his hand and invite whatever he’s about to do into the booth with you both. He groans and bends you over the bartop, swiping your underwear to the side and teasing your entrance with his thumb. 

You sigh and arch your back, pressing his thumb inside you and rocking your hips. 

“Feels so good,” you mutter, eyelids fluttering as you watch the stage. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and your thighs tense as you feel the head of his cock against you. He pulls his thumb out and replaces it with his dick quickly with a grunt.

“Suck,” he instructs you, putting his slicked thumb in between your lips. You do as you’re told and bite gently, smiling. 

“Gonna fuck you to your favorite song, baby girl. Remind you who you belong to.”

“Yes, James, fuck,” you whimper, feeling his hands wrap around your hips. The song continues and you know this is going to be a quickie by the way Bucky is thrusting desperately. He whimpers into your neck and that noise alone is your undoing. You cum as the song crescendos into the final few lyrics.

“Fuck, baby girl. On your knees,” he yelps. You drop to kneel before him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He holds the back of your head in one hand and finishes himself off with the other, tapping his tip onto your tongue twice to signal that he’s done. You close your mouth and swallow with a smile.

“We can go back down there for the rest of the concert,” he sighs, handing you a water bottle as he zips his pants back up. “That cheeky fuck can wink at you all he wants. We both know whose cum is in your tummy.”

“Connor…” her voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper.

He appeared almost instantly, concern etched into his face as he crouched in front of her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She clutched her chest, her breathing shallow. “It’s… it’s happening again. My heart’s racing, and I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

Connor’s medical instincts kicked in immediately. He didn’t panic—he never did—but there was a sharpness to his movements as he assessed her. He gently helped her lie down on the couch, elevating her legs with a cushion.

“Okay, stay with me,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Let’s slow your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

She tried to follow his instructions, but the dizziness only worsened. “Connor… I-I can’t…”

He reached for the pulse oximeter he always kept in the living room drawer, slipping it onto her finger. His jaw tightened as he saw her heart rate spiking. “You’re okay, Y/N. I’ve got you. Just focus on my voice.”

He retrieved a glass of water with an electrolyte tablet dissolved in it and held it to her lips. “Sip this. Slowly.”

She obeyed, though her hands trembled as she held the glass. The fear in her eyes broke his heart.

The Decision

For the next fifteen minutes, Connor worked to stabilize her, but her heart rate remained stubbornly high, and her breathing was still labored. She was pale and visibly drained. He knew she needed more help.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “I think I need to call Will and Jay.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “No… please, Connor. Don’t. I don’t want them to worry.”

“They’ll want to know,” he argued gently. “And honestly, I could use their help right now. They love you—they’ll understand.”

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she gave a small nod, too exhausted to argue further. “Okay… just don’t let them freak out.”

“I promise,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead before stepping away to make the calls.

The Halstead Brothers Arrive

Jay arrived first, having bolted from the district the moment Connor called. His face was tight with worry as he rushed into the apartment. “Sweetheart,” he said, dropping to his knees beside the couch. “What happened?”

She gave him a weak smile, her voice barely audible. “Just… my heart being dramatic.”

Jay glanced at Connor, his protective instincts in overdrive. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Connor assured him. “Her heart rate’s been stubborn, but I’ve been managing it. I didn’t want to risk her being alone if it got worse.”

Will arrived moments later, a medical bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes scanned his sister, taking in her pale complexion and shallow breaths. “Honey,” he murmured, kneeling on her other side. “How bad is it?”

“I’m okay,” she insisted, though her voice wavered. “Really.”

Connor gave Will a rundown of her symptoms and what he’d already done. The two of them worked together seamlessly, Connor monitoring her vitals while Will administered a small dose of her prescribed beta-blocker to help bring her heart rate down.

Reassurance

As her heart rate finally started to stabilize, Y/N let out a shaky breath of relief. Jay sat at her feet, his hand resting gently on her ankle, while Will perched on the arm of the couch, watching her closely.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” she whispered, her eyes darting between her brothers and Connor.

“Don’t apologize,” Jay said firmly. “You’re our sister. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Will nodded, his expression softening. “Honey, we’d rather know when something’s wrong than find out later. You’re family. That’s what we’re here for.”

Connor squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “They’re right. You don’t have to hide this from us. We love you—episodes and all.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Always, sweetheart,” Jay said, his tone gentle.

“Always,” Will echoed, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Aftercare

Once her episode had fully passed, Jay stayed behind to keep her company while Connor and Will worked on cleaning up. Jay kept the mood light, cracking jokes to make her laugh, while Connor prepared tea and a light snack for her.

“Next time,” Connor said as he handed her the tea, “we’re not waiting so long to call them.”

Y/N smiled softly, leaning against his shoulder. “Okay. I promise.”

Her brothers stayed until she fell asleep, each of them silently vowing to always be there for her—no matter what.

After an intense match against UCLA and a particularly grueling week filled with practice, practice, and more practice, Tashi was more than happy to get back to her dorm. It’s tough being Stanford’s star tennis player, regardless of how easy she makes it seem. Seeing you there waiting for her made her even happier and grateful that her week was over, so she could finally rest, decompress, and destress with you. “Hey, baby,” you started saying to her as you watched her place her tennis bag down next to her desk. Her fatigue made her even more glad to see you. 

“Hey. I am absolutely exhausted,” she tells you as she sits down in between your spread legs on the floor, her back pressed up against your chest. She couldn’t help but let out a content sigh as you gently ran your hands up and down her arms.

Though, she was a little confused as to how you managed to get into her room. “Wait… how’d you even get in here?” You laugh at her obliviousness, and tell her “I may or may not have managed to snag your key this morning. You’re telling me you didn’t realize your door was unlocked when you came in here just now?”

Tashi sits up, creating a small space between the two of you, and she turns her head to look back at you. “Um, no? I didn’t even think about that, honestly. You know how busy I’ve been this week.” You nod, acknowledging the week she’s had and how tiring it’s been for her. “I know, babe, I know. I just find it a bit funny, is all.” 

You pull on her hair tie, making sure to be gentle while letting her curls free from the ponytail they were just in. She turns her head to face forward again, and lets you run your hands through them before separating her hair into three equal parts to braid it. It’s no shock to you that Tashi enjoys the feeling, and the fact that you’re always so careful and tender makes it even better.

“Wanna hear what happened to me yesterday?” You figure that talking about something that happened to you could maybe make her feel less stressed and get her mind off her weariness for a little bit. She lets out an “Mhm,” and you start to tell her your story as you bring each section of hair over one another to make the braid. “Alright, so I had to stay after class yesterday to talk to my professor, and she asked me like, the funniest and stupidest question. And it was the old one, y’know, for my writing class.” Now she’s more intrigued, because what kind of question could your professor ask you that’s funny and stupid? She knows who you’re talking about, though, and she has a little bit of a suspicion. “What’d she ask you?”

You laughed and continued to braid her hair. “Remember how she saw us kiss last week?” “Yeah,” she says and you carry on with your story. “Well, she first told me that she really liked my last paper, and then asked me if you were my ‘best friend!’” 

You think back to that moment, and you remember how you couldn’t contain your laughter. You literally laughed in your professor’s face after she asked you that. Maybe it was a little rude, but you weren’t expecting her to ask you something about your personal life, nor were you expecting her to totally deny the fact that you’re dating Tashi. 

“Uhm… no, Dr. Clark, she’s not my best friend. She’s my girlfriend, actually.” You told her after your laughter ceased. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to offend. So you and Tashi, you’re… girlfriends?” She sounded a bit confused, and you could tell that she hadn’t actually had ill intentions. “Yes, ma’am, we are. Actual girlfriends, not just ‘best friends’ or ‘girls who are friends.’” A look of realization dawned on her face, and she apologized again. “I see. Well, I do apologize, again. Truly, I didn’t mean to be rude. I hope you can forgive my ignorance.” And you did. It was a misunderstanding, and you knew that you shouldn’t hold a grudge against her for growing up in a different time period when she didn’t have control over it. 

“Are you being serious? She asked if we’re best friends?” Tashi’s voice is even, but you get the feeling that it’s teetering on upset. “I mean, yeah, she did ask that, but obviously I told her you’re my girlfriend. Like, my actual girlfriend. And besides, she was just a little confused. You know she’s all old and… senile, I guess. She didn’t actually mean any harm; I cleared up any confusion she had.” You had to make sure Tashi knew that, or else she’d want to have a word with your professor. “But she basically ignored the fact that we’re dating,” she starts, but you quickly stop her. 

“Look, I get how it sounds, but it’s not like that, okay? She really just didn’t understand, and I helped her. It’s fine, Tash. She grew up in a way different time, it’s not her fault.” She sighed quietly and agreed, calming down to let you finish. 

“I’m proud of you, y’know. For winning today.” You say softly to her, changing the subject. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s smiling. “I do know, actually. You always remind me. But thank you.” And by the sound of her voice, she is happy and flattered.

As soon as you finished braiding her hair, you placed delicate kisses along the exposed skin of her left shoulder, leading up to her neck and the spot right under her ear that gets a small shiver out of her every time. “Come on, wanna read The Great Gatsby again?”

“Yeah, sure.” Tashi turns her head back to kiss your cheek before standing up and holding her hand out for you to take. You place your hand in hers and stand up too, grabbing the book from her shelf and reminiscing a bit when you see how beat up it is, and thinking about how many annotations there are in the margins from the numerous times you two took turns reading it individually before you’d read it together.

She’s already laying down, head propped up on a pillow. You smile at the sight, this beautiful girl before you, and the fact that she’s yours. “You look pretty comfy there, don’t ya.” You send a wink her way and you love the giggle it gets out of her. You’ll never tire of hearing it; never tire of her. 

“C’mere,” she starts, and you can’t help but oblige. After handing her the book, you climb onto the bed and cuddle up close to her, laying your head on her other pillow. “This is one of my favorites. And you can’t lie, I know it’s one of yours, too.” She laughs a bit, before saying “Well I wasn’t going to say anything to refute that.” 

“Sure you weren’t. I know how stubborn you are, Tashi. You like to argue just for the sake of arguing.” Now she’s rolling her eyes, which is very Tashi of her. “How about you just shut up and read the book already. Please?” She lifts her head up and you see the pout forming. She then peppers kisses all over your face, trying to butter you up. You, being the weak woman you are, can’t stop yourself from giving in and starting the first chapter. 

“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’”

As you continue reading through the chapter, with Tashi’s head resting on your shoulder and her body pressed up against yours under the covers, you can’t help but think about everything that’s led to this moment. Even something so small, like re-reading one of your shared favorite books, is meaningful and special.