#Best feeling is when you remember something that could support your point and then find it

[silky-nereid]

⚖️ Fiat iustitia, et pereat mundus || DARK CONTENT

translated : Let justice be done, and the world perish

Yandere Agency x Assassin! Reader

tw : experimentations, non-consensual tattooing, conditioning, drugging, murders, unhealthy behaviors, torture.

Yandere Agency who is known in the public for questionable acts but it’s mainly ‘good’ publicity because they have connections within every field but are known for their hidden program within the jail systems.

Yandere Agency who only targets inmates or people that don’t have a support system but it’s for the world’s own good because it would be noticeable if they had someone with a support system.

Yandere Agency who finds you when you’re at your lowest and have nothing—they offer the world and you accept every piece of it but they need to retrain you; strip you of what you know and scrape off the past version of yourself.

“Eighty-nine.” Her voice said,” We’ve scrubbed you clean of your past…”

Her blue rubber gloves adjusted the straps on your chair, tightening the one that held your aching head straight. Her hands wiped your sternum, aching as the tears dribbled down your face.

“You must understand that this is for the greater good.” She tightened the gag on your mouth. “We are going to give you the world if you just behave but attempt to escape the facility—I thought you were smarter than that.”

The echoing buzzing of the tattoo needle and the muffled screams that tried to escape your lips; every line across your sternum felt as if the needle was piercing into your heart rather than skin.

“Stop squirming,” she scolded. “You’re going to mess me up…”

She continued the carving of ink into your sternum while she nudged the radio with her elbow.

“You don’t speak often,” she said. “I bet you have a lovely voice…Well, you have this mark on you and the device somewhere in your body—You’re good to go after I finish..”

She continued.

Yandere Agency who doesn’t coddle you rather they make you fend for yourself again but they have their eyes on you no matter what—they always double the doses because you always have trouble sleeping since you believe something is watching you.

Yandere Agency who seems to place you in public missions before other new people in your sector but the missions are simple; eliminating targets so you can return to their open arms. They always provide you with clothes that you need to help blend in within the mission—they make fake histories and names.

Yandere Agency who has a grading system for every single person and they will give out rewards that can range from objects to houses or sometimes money too but the punishments can also range from purposely faulty weapons to a slow denial of access to missions or a more harsher method of retraining till they remember.

You looked at the closed file in front of you as the target was someone that you never expected it to be since it was your previous handler.

You felt the smile etched itself on your lips—now he was the criminal in the colorful eyes of the Monarda agency. This mission was yours, nobody else from the other sectors could be assigned to it as normally it would be a free for all that always ended up with more dead agents that needed to be liquidated from the files.

“Well, you must be saddened at this update from him.” She smiled; her dimples showed. “He cannot be spreading false information about us. You know what you need to do, right?”

“Of course, Ms. Gilis,” you replied.

“Good.” Her gloved hands handed you a briefcase. “Eliminate him before midnight and payment will be doubled.”

You nodded.

Yandere Agency who always has the best from Sector eight do missions that involve former members out of fear that they still have confidential documents that they obviously have taken without authorization which fuels their hands since they always offer more in return but they will be stricter.

Yandere Agency who coddles you to the point any moment without their strict eyes—feels unusual and uncomfortable which they always have you say a crude poem of what to do when caught by ordinary enforcements or opposite agencies but you know when they are watching you as it’s familiar and somewhat soothing to your controlled mind that they cradled.

Yandere Agency who hardly has handlers for you because you’re one of the best trade assassins in Sector eight which means you get the occasional special mission that always comes at a price in case you fail to Monarda’s disappointment because they had such high hopes for you.

It had been so long to feel the soft sunlight across your skin — walls were painted white alongside clothes.

The only color that you knew that existed was red for blood since you had gnawed your nails to the point of aches and blood dribbling down your forearm. You walked towards the steel door that was painted white, fingertips running over the bolts— day or night yet your eyes could never shut.

The light was visible underneath your eyelids—seeing the veins while your eyes were open. The familiar noises mechanisms of the steel door unlocking, jingling of keys and the smell of perfume—Gillis’ perfume.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Her arms were crossed. “It has not been that long for you besides you needed this. Just like we need you.”

Her footsteps echoed throughout the white room, tugging you up and walking through the gray hallway passed the lines of steel doors and the muffled ramblings of those inside.

Her hands tightly held your wrists, feeling the soft skin tighten on the bones and your eyes looked at her face— warm light of the elevator highlighted her features. The pearl studs and thick fabric of her suit jacket and those eyes that stared down at you like you were something important rather than the supposed trash that the world had engraved itself in your skin.

“You know that we love you, right?” She said, “Do not fail me again.”

Yandere Agency who slowly builds you up again but it seems different—more isolated but it was fine because they care about you, this time and there was no interference from the world but they always deliver your meals on time every single day.

Yandere Agency who has more associates to reach out to you in case you are developing a guilty conscience despite the reconditioning to perform other isolated jobs than being an assassin.

Yandere Agency who fails to notice your deteriorating condition since it only matters if you’re completing the missions with perfection that they always adored till they send you on a mission that gives you a taste of something that you thought never existed anymore.

You adjusted your clothes while buttoning the yellow buttons of the bellhop’s uniform that you had taken. You pushed the metal luggage cart filled with suitcases, bags and shopping bags from the residents of the hotel.

You grabbed a suitcase, not caring about the rest while you walked over to the hotel room—unlocking the door and stepping inside. The hotel room was ordinary; one bed, cabinets and an open mini bar.

Hearing the echoing of ice breaking, you pointed the pistol at the target who was making a drink for themselves but you couldn’t pull the trigger—it was the same, right?

“You should put that down.” They poured the drink. “Have a drink, [Name]?”

A name—this name sounded so foreign now as it belonged to you, many years ago.

You sat down on one of the red stools, the pistol was placed on the left side while the cold drink touched your knuckles.

“[Name], what did they do to you?” Their eyes looked at you with something unfamiliar; concern. “You remember me, right?”

“No,” you replied. “You’re just a target that I need to get rid of.”

“This messed your head up,” they sighed. “I will give you a choice, [Name].”

“A choice?” You replied, “There’s no choice—I came here to murder you.”

“Then why don’t you shoot me with that pistol of yours?” They asked.

You gave no response—biting your inner cheek while looking at your pistol.

“I will give you a choice that you never had before.” They gently pushed the glass into your hand. “Drink this and I will get you your freedom—“

You winced, pulling out the intercom from your ear due to a sharp feedback—it rested on your shoulder yet the echoing of your handler’s voice became a distant noise to you.

“Or you can take that pistol and murder me,” they said. “It’s your decision, [Name].”

[straycalamities]

old aromantic man yells at cloud under cut AUGH

maybe its the aro, but i also genuinely think its not only aros that yearn to have a significant relationship with a "best friend" that goes into the "gray area of romance"

i quote that because it literally doesnt all have to be seen as romantic is the thing and i think people deep down understand this on some level and yearn for it

i think the only thing i truly dislike overall from romo-shipping culture (other than omegaverse existing. rage. hatred.) is that it kinda devours people just being besties or just being so signifcant to each other in a non-romantic way. but then everyone's turning to hyping up "familial" relationships made it even worse. cuz now it's like oh they're non-romantic? oohhh they must be siblings...or parent/child...

like no what if people were just friends and that was also seen as significant. or enemies. or foils. or even coworkers. and all of that be seen as significant for what it is

i feel like this is especially true in fandoms into real life ppl/celebrities/influencers/etc. i feel like that's where it actually starts to become a big frustrating problem

fiction is something else because you can simply change the rules if you want, in your head, with headcanons, but you cant (or at least you really shouldnt and im judging you if you do) headcanon real people. if they say otherwise about this, or shipping, or whatever then ok thats their prerogative, BUT then ppl take one guy (gnc) saying this to mean they have permission for every guy (gnc) and it's like ok idc if people have been doing this with real living persons for centuries, we've been doing all kindsa other jacked up shit to each other for millennia am i supposed to suddenly be okay with that too because it's always been done? 😭 idk i dont mean for this to be all about how i dont support RPF and how parasocializing and celebrity worship has fucked over everyone's brains and warped them into dehumanizing people as normal even more than all of us being so online in general has and finding every buzzword that sounds like justification they can to okay it

but it is kinda linked to my point. i dont mean this in the whole "men are scared to be best friends for fear of being seen as Gay" i mean it as "a whole shitload of people are redirecting deep non-romantic relationships into just feeding the alloromantic normativity machine and my little aro ass is getting kinda tired of it"

i mean it in "everyone keeps trying to put relationships into neat little labeled boxes that have these hard and rigid rules to them and my loves-to-appreciate-the-depth-and-variety-of-human-emotions-and-relationships" ass is even more tired of this than the other thing

even in MY shipping. yes i say "shipping" yes i draw charas kissing, hugging, dating, intimacy. but i dont always mean romantically. because i remember the era when shipping could be whatever. it just meant you liked that those characters were significant to each other. and now it's become only one kinda thing (maybe two if youre differentiating between sexual and romantic shipping or a mix of the two)

and now i wish there was a word just for what i mean 😓 (and other ppl like me) that was just...yes i like these two (or more) charas together and idc what flavor of what it is theyre doing i enjoy it. and i wish that it could also not be seen as meaning less or just being lesser than romantic shipping

IM SO TIRED OF ROMANCE OUTWEIGHING AND EVEN OVERSHADOWING EVERY OTHER RELATIONSHIP PLEASE AND IM TIRED OF THE ONLY OTHER OPTION BEING NUCLEAR FAMILY DYNAMICS

i remember when "found family" didnt mean literal Mom Dad Son Daughter shit sighs

i also just think that if we saw friendships and best-friendships as more significant it'd also help with how so many people feel so damn lonely all the time just because they're "single" or whatever. it'd also mean less ppl jump into harmful romantic relationships, ignoring all red flags, just because it means they have a relationship

if they're getting social, inter-personal fulfillment outside a romantic relationship and it's treated as significant as that is. because it IS. think about your best friend, and the relationship yall have. or past best friends. its amazing! its deep! its meaningful!

think about even just your friends even if yall arent super close and how you still smile if you meet up or see them come online or get a text from them. or that coworker at your job that you probably wouldnt hang out with outside of work but they still make your shift less torture. IDK

look at the beauty and variety of your connections with other humans and how a lot of them you dont even have a term or name for. it's just. significant.

the stranger that smiled genuinely at you when you held the door open for them while you were having the worst day of your life and, for a moment, the world wasnt so bad

you'll never see that person again, but you'll probably never forget it. and even if you forget their eyes or the color of their hair, you'll never forget how it made you feel.

that's what i'm talking about. and i feel like you shouldn't have to be an aromantic person to appreciate that kinda stuff and the world would be sooo much better for it. what if we just fuckin appreciated our fellow man yknow????? especially when all the evil powers that be in the world are trying to make us turn on each other and eat each other alive so they dont have to do as much work

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ CHAPTER SIX: SIX

violet; 4,984 words, fluff and SMUT!!!, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, college parties, hurt/comfort (kinda), wlw, SESBIAN LEX!!!, thigh riding (both), fingering, oral (r!receiving), gays being bad at feelings, mel is Mother, jayce is the bestest wingbro ever, no "y/n"

summary: in which vi, actually, does not fuck this up.

a/n: and.... here it is!!! the grande finale :) thank you guys so much for reading and for showing this lil miniseries so much support <3 i hope the payoff was good, and #trust that this won't be the last you see of hockey!vi and figure skater!reader ! they're so dear to me and i'm already thinking of cute lil drabbles i could write in this universe but anyway -- i'm getting ahead of myself. enjoy the last chapter!!!!

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ THIS IS, VI REFLECTS as she steps into the booming base-threaded room of the sorority house, probably not the best idea. But it’s the only one she’s got, so she might as well lean in, right? Right.

Jayce cranes up to look over the sea of people before jerking his head towards the punch table with a shrug. Vi follows him, running a hand through her freshly washed hair. She thanks whatever gods are up there that she’d remembered to bring a change of clothes to the game.

“Here,” Jayce says, pressing a red solo cup into her hands.

Vi stares at it for a second before gulping it back, grimacing around the clash of liquors and half-blended mixer as it burns its way down her throat. Almost immediately, a warmth starts to buzz behind her ears and she remembers, somewhat belatedly, that she’s had nothing to eat since having two bananas and an ancient granola bar before the game.

She shakes her limbs loose and reaches out to refill her cup, but Jayce catches her hand.

She’s about to argue when he points towards a sofa halfway across the room and Vi’s eyes follow it only to find you, sitting there with a cup of your own, laughing at something someone’s saying, and it takes Vi another second to realize that the person next to you is Margot, her bleached blond hair fading into acid green tips, her snakebite piercings glinting in the dim neon lights.

Vi’s pushing through the throng of people towards you before she can stop herself, careless of the hands that thump her on the back, the congratulatory sentences, cut off by the way she pulls way, till she’s standing feet from you, and your eyes twist up to meet hers.

The smile on your lips only falters slightly, but she doesn’t miss the way your gaze flicks down the length of her body, ticking back up to her lips, where it lingers for a beat too long before she finds your eyes with her own again.

There’s a dull, pleasant ache somewhere behind her navel as she notices how much darker your eyes are the second time around.

“Hey six,” Margot drawls, shifting back and stretching out her legs, “we were wondering when you were gonna get here. But don’t worry — I was keeping your little ice minx here company for you.”

Vi purses her lips, tries not to think too hard on the fact that your knee is so close to Margot’s leg it’s almost touching.

“Uh thanks but — can I — can I get a minute?” Vi asks, jerking her head towards the kitchen, praying to the heavens that it’s empty.

You bite down on your bottom lip, but you nod and push yourself up from the couch, glancing back at Margot with tiny smile.

“Thanks for the advice,” you say.

She smirks, “Anytime, dollface.” She wiggles her fingers and winks as she catches Vi’s eyes, and Vi makes a mental note to send her a thank you text later.

Vi leads you through the party with her hand around your wrist, but by the time you reach the door leading into the kitchen, her grip’s loosened just enough for you to slip your fingers between hers. But when she tries to open the door, she finds it locked.

“What the —”

She wiggles the door knob, wondering who on earth would want to lock the door to a sorority house kitchen, and then, a melodious voice says from the other side —

“What’s the magic word?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mel, it’s us.”

A beat of silence later, the doorknob twists and the door slips open just a silver. Mel’s bright hazel eyes appear in the crack, her lashes limned in gold as she looks at you and then at Vi, then back at you again.

“Those aren’t the magic words,” she says, though she does open the door a few inches wider, her expression smug.

You groan, crinkling your nose before you lick your lips.

“Fine, please.”

Mel’s smile widens as the door opens and Vi steps through, pulling you along after her.

Mel’s eyebrows hitch up as she catches your free arm in her delicate hand.

You give her a soft squeeze and mouth thank you. She gives the pair of you a satisfied nod before letting you go and pressing a small key into Vi’s chest.

“Do not —”

Vi nods, “Fuck this up. Yeah… I know.”

Mel gives you both a final look before slipping from the kitchen and bringing the door closed behind her. Vi stares at it for a beat, digging her thumb into the jagged teeth of the tiny key before reaching over to lock the door behind her.

You let out a soft breath, folding your arms across your chest, your shoulder shrugging up as you suddenly remember that you’re still wearing Vi’s varsity jacket.

Vi turns around and you both speak at the same time —

“Look, I’m sorry about the —”

“I shouldn’t have walked out —”

Vi purses her lips around a burgeoning smile even as you let out a tiny laugh, shaking your head.

She waves an awkward hand as you lean back against the kitchen island. Distantly, Vi remembers the way you’d sunk down on the other side just about a month ago, how later that same night she’d hoisted you up onto the countertop and kissed you till there was no more breath in her lungs left to give.

“I… I’m sorry I freaked out like that in the locker rooms…” you say, twisting your arms tighter around yourself as Vi nods, leaning back against the closed door.

“I just saw that text come in and I thought…” you swallow.

“I know, princess… it was my fault for —” she heaves a sigh, motioning haphazardly at the air, “not cutting her off sooner.”

You let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. Mel told me that she reminded Jayce to —”

“— tell me to block her. Yeah. And he did… I just…” Vi shrugs, sheepish, “… forgot.”

Your lashes flutter as your gaze cuts away from her face.

“Wow —” you say a second later, your voice threaded through with mirth, and when Vi looks back at you, it’s to find you smiling, “we’re really kinda shit at this, aren’t we?”

Vi puffs out a laugh, letting her head knock back against the door.

“Yeah… you can say that again.”

“So…” you say, fingers worrying at the hem of your little black dress.

Vi cocks her head, her eyes caught on the movement, and suddenly, heat plumes up the back of her neck at the memory of you, with your thighs slotted on either side of hers, the feel of your soft skin beneath her palms as she’d slowly worked up the hem of that very same dress.

She takes a deep, steadying breath.

“So?” she echoes.

You’re watching her with pink lips and damson cheeks.

“So… what now?”

Vi pulls an exaggerated sort of thinking-face before pushing off the door, taking the few steps forward to put herself in your personal space. She relishes in the way you gasp, lashes fluttering as your palms come up to rest against her chest, but you don’t make to push her away.

“Well, I’m not one for a lot of foreplanning but right now… I think I’d just like a do-over from the last time we were in this position.”

“Y-yeah?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as she settles her hands on your hips and digs her fingers into the plush of of your ass.

“Mhm… what’dyou think, pretty girl? That a good place to start for us?”

Your answering yes is cut short by the squeak you make as Vi hoists you up to place you on the kitchen island, her nose digging into the soft spot just beneath your jaw, breathing you in till her head spins, her thumb trailing up the soft of your thigh till you’re trembling.

“V-Vi?”

Vi pulls back just far enough to catch your eyes, and from up this close, she can see the thin trails of glitter running down your cheeks, the slight redness to your lashes that tells her you’d been crying. Guilt twists like a stitch in her side, and she bites back a sigh.

“What is it?” she asks. She watches you watching her, your eyes searching hers as if you were looking for something — a question, or an answer, or perhaps just the answering truth to the lies that both of you have been trying so desperately to tell yourselves.

You swallow, tracing a thumb across the small tattoo on her cheek; and then, you smile a smile that might just rhyme with forgiveness.

“Kiss me.”

So Vi does, the kiss itself shredding the air between you until there’s nothing left but the gut-clenching friction of her lips on yours. You gasp open for her, so beautifully that Vi almost stumbles back, but instead, she tips herself forward and pours herself into your pliant mouth. You taste like honeyed bourbon and stolen midnights, like the first breath of air on a winter’s morning or maybe just the next few decades of her entire life.

She pulls away breathless, moaning thick into the skin of your neck, hissing at the sting of your fingers curled into her hair, at the sound of your hitching gasps as she inches a hand between your thighs and swears when her fingers find you slick and wanting.

“F-fuck — Vi —”

“Holy shit —” Vi presses her face into your neck, letting her fingers slip through the folds of your wet heat, desire sparking through her veins like lightning in a gathering storm. She drops to her knees, nudging yours apart with her palm, yanking you till you’re nearly slipping off the edge of the counter, but you tug at her hair with a soft whine.

“W-wait, Vi —”

“Mm, don’t wanna wait anymore, princess — wanna taste you so bad — fuck —”

“No — Vi, please —”

She pauses then, looking up to find your eyes blown dark, your lashes fluttering like hummingbird wings as you watch her with your bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“It’s just — I don’t want our first time to be —” you motion weakly at the sorority house kitchen, your cheeks going blotchy, “and the counter’s… kinda cold and…” you drop your hand to grip the edge of the counter “… uncomfy,” you finish, rather lamely, your voice trailing off as Vi puffs out a laugh against your inner thigh, pushing herself back up with a crooked smile.

“Mm… you really are a princess, aren’t you?” Vi teases, even as she helps you off the counter and tugs down your dress for you. You pout up at her, but she rolls her eyes, grinning.

“Right, c’mon then —” she links your fingers and unlocks the kitchen door, tugging you once more into the disorienting throng of the party.

Halfway to the door though, your limbs go cold as the pair of you run smack into Caitlyn, this time sans her new ginger girlfriend.

“Vi — good, I was hoping to run into you —” she says, her eyes flickering over you for a second before it settles back on Vi.

You swallow, wondering if you should pull away, but Vi tugs you into her side and slips a possessive arm around your waist.

“Sorry, Cait — can’t really talk right now. I’ve gotta go fuck the brains outta my girlfriend — nice seeing you though — enjoy the party, go Enforcers!” she says, grinning wide as she pulls you through the rest of the way to the door, leaving Caitlyn slack-jawed and speechless behind you.

You let out an incredulous laugh as both of you stumble out of the door and onto the front porch. Vi chuckles as the door slams shut behind her, a little self-conscious even as you turn to stare at her.

“Wow… that was…” you purse your lips as Vi shrugs, tugging you back into her chest for a soft kiss.

“Impressed?”

You giggle, nodding, moaning soft against her lips as the pair of you fumble towards Vi’s car.

“I was gonna say impulsive,” you say, slipping into the passenger’s seat. Vi starts the engine and rips out of the parking space and down the street before you even have the time to properly buckle in your seatbelt.

“Yeah. Wonder who I learned that from.”

She shoots you a cheeky grin, reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your thigh, squeezing just hard enough to make you groan.

The car’s not even properly parked before the pair of you are stumbling into her apartment building, her pressing you up against the elevator wall, lips caught on the junction of your neck, her teeth sinking into your delicate skin. She takes a savage satisfaction in the knowledge that you’ll be sporting that mark for the next five to seven business days, at least.

You’re barely through her door before she’s walking the pair of you towards her room, kicking open the door and almost toppling through. You giggle as she trips over something on her floor and fumbles for the light switch, flicking it on as light spills into her messy bedroom, the walls papered in posters — everything from bands to hockey stars to what looks like an outdated bikini-model calendar.

Your eyebrows kick up as you take in the scene, an amused grin playing at your lips

“Oh wow…” and there’s a lilt in your voice that makes Vi’s face go hot. She regrets not at least cleaning up the laundry on her bed as she shoves it off onto the floor with an arm.

“What? Not up to your standards, princess?”

You purse your lips, delicately picking your way across the room to plop down on her unmade bed.

“Y’know, I think that first frat house room might’ve been cleaner.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Your grin goes slanted as you toe off your heels and inch back onto the bed, your legs spreading just a bit wider. Vi’s breath goes still in her chest as you lean back slightly on your arms, your head cocking slowly to one side.

“Is that a promise, six?”

Vi groans, yanking her shirt from her back with a single hand, tossing it somewhere behind her, her fingers fumbling with her belt, kicking off her pants as she crawls onto the bed towards you.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, princess —”

Your lashes flicker as she pushes up the hem of your dress, letting out a low breath as she finally sets eyes on you, a curse puffing out of her as she reaches down to slick two fingers between the puffy lips of your sodden pussy.

You let out a soft whimper, your head lolling back, but when she lifts her head to look at you, it’s to find you watching her with dark, lidded eyes.

“I-I’ve always wondered… how’d you pick your number? Is it like… a ranking system o-or — ah — like — on a ten-point scale o-or — mmngh —”

Vi hums, watching your lashes feather across your cheek as she flicks her thumb around your throbbing clit, her blood a spring-water rush behind her ears as she feels you jerk beneath her.

“We really gotta do something about that mouth of yours, princess…” she murmurs before tugging her hand from between your legs and pressing her slick fingers to your lips. You mouth falls open just as easily as she remembers, and she has to swallow down another thick groan as you suck her fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them to collect the taste of your own juices from her skin.

Your eyes flash open to meet hers, and the contact jolts right through her to her own aching cunt.

“Sweet fuck, pretty girl — I — I thought you said you’d never done this shit before?”

A tiny frown flickers across your forehead before you roll your eyes, giving her fingers a good hard suck before pulling back to lick your lips, sitting up slightly to tug her forward.

“I said I’d never really been on a date before — not that I’ve never had sex before.”

A startled breath stitches from Vi’s chest as you flip the pair of you till you’re straddling one of her muscular thighs, your own thigh pressing up between her legs to rub deliciously against her aching pussy.

She hisses out a breath as you roll your hips down over her leg, moaning low in your chest, your head falling back, the dress you’re wearing still rucked up at your waist.

“Those post-Gala parties can get… a little wild…” you say distractedly, picking up a slow rhythm, grinding down against her, your wetness slicking along her skin, making the most toe-curling noises every time you rock your hips forward and back.

Vi groans, reaching up to help you pull the dress off, her mind going fuzzy at the sight of your perfect tits, bouncing out of the tight black dress, your nipples hard and pebbling in the cool air of her room.

“F-fu-fuck that’s hot —” she says, leaning up to suck a nipple into her mouth, teasing her teeth over the sensitive flesh, grinning at the way it makes your hips stutter. She can’t help the quick little jerks of her own hips against your thigh as well, slotted along her clothed cunt, her boxers now well and soaked through.

“Vi — Vi —” you whine, the sound going straight to her clit as you rock down against her, your fingers reaching down to tug her closer.

“Y-yeah? Tell me, princess — wh-what do you want?”

She groans as you shift and your thigh presses harder against her, your own cunt squelching messily over her leg.

“Want — wanna ride your fingers —”

“Oh shit, yeah?” she swallows, adjusting back as you lift your hips up, “want my fingers inside you? How many d’you think you can take, princess? Hm?”

She pauses when she feels you scrabbling at the waistband of her boxers, a tiny laugh puffing from her at the pout on your face.

“Off,” you say, almost petulantly, as Vi shifts her own hips to jerk them off her legs, tossing the to one side.

“There, happy?”

You grin, sinking back over her thigh, looping your arms around her shoulders as she shifts her right hand beneath your sopping cunt and teases two fingers around your entrance.

“You never answered my question, sweet girl — how many fingers, hm?” she asks, even as you whine.

“Don’t — dunno — just — just wanna feel you inside me — please —”

Vi hums, watching your face as pleasure twists across your features.

“Then count for me — yeah? Can you do that?”

You nod, eager and desperate, and Vi chuckles, because she’s not sure if you even know what you’re agreeing to anymore. She pushes a finger passed your soaked folds and immediately feels you clench around her, the pressure making her own cunt squeeze. She hisses out a breath, rocking you down over her, shifting her hips to rut up against your leg.

“O-one —” you gasp, lifting your hips up to drop them back down again, your fingers digging into her skin of her back.

“More?” she asks, as you bounce a couple more times, and you nod, just as fervent as the first time, if not more so. She chuckles, “alright then —”

“T-two — oh — oh.”

She sinks another finger into you and revels in the way you keen, loud and high in the back of your throat, your head tossing back as you start to ride her fingers proper, your hair tumbling down around your shoulders. She reaches up with her free hand to fist a handful into her palm, yanking back slightly to bare your throat to her, groaning when she leans forward to suck another hard bruise into the skin of your collarbone.

“M-more — more Vi — want — want you to stretch me out — fuck — mm —”

“Fuck — shit — yeah? Want me to fuck you loose? That it?”

Vi’s head spins and she feels nearly delirious with want as she pushes a third finger into you, watching as your mouth falls open around a silent moan, your whole body shuddering around her. You’re so wet, so tight, and the growing ache between her own legs is starting to reach a fever pitch as she shamelessly rucks against your thigh, still slotted between her own.

“Yes, yes — fuck — Vi wanna — want you to stuff me full — fuck, fuck, fuck —”

“Shit, princess — so fuckin’ nasty — so needy —”

You nod, bouncing yourself so hard and fast that Vi has to take a second to marvel at how strong your legs are. She thanks the heavens for the innate athleticism required for figure skating before her thoughts smear into a crackling mess of pleasure as you inch your hand into the space between her cunt and your legs — your fingers pressing messily between her folds.

“Vi, Violet — can I — wanna feel you — want y-you to feel good too —”

Vi nearly loses it then, nodding, spreading her own legs wider to give you more access as you work three fingers into her sloppy cunt with no warning.

“F-fuck!”

You curl your fingers and Vi swears she starts to see stars.

“Y-yeah? Feel good?”

Vi nearly whimpers as she feels you pump your fingers up into the tender bundle of nerves inside her, her own fingers squelching noisily as you fuck yourself down on them. It’s all too much, and before she knows it, the tension in her stomach is snapping like a thread, her cunt pulsing around your fingers as her orgasm shakes through her, white pops of pleasure sparking behind her eyes.

“Mm — holy shit — oh my god… fuck —” she gulps down air, blinking her eyes as the shape of you comes back into focus above her, the buzzing inside her head still ringing with the aftermath of her high. She notes, vaguely, that you’re smiling down at her, a second before you lean down to press your lips to hers in a sweet kiss.

Vi hums into the kiss, her breath hitching slightly as she feels you pull your fingers from her. And when you pull back to pop them into your mouth, she feels another shudder work through her. Somewhere in the back of her head, there’s a small voice chanting holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck how did I get so lucky? over and over again till it becomes the baseline thrum that drives her to lean up, pushing you down onto your back with a hazy, indulgent smile.

“C’mere, princess — as much as I love watching you ride me —” she inches her way down your body, trailing a few kisses down your chest, pausing to circle her tongue around your nipples just to make you arch up into her. She drops a few lingering kisses down the line of your abs, before puffing a hot breath over your throbbing clit, her fingers spreading your dripping cunt lips open.

She swallows, groaning to herself.

“I’ve been dreaming about tasting you for weeks.”

You let out a soft whine above her, and she feels your fingers sinking into her hair. She glances up and marvels at the sight of your body, laid bare like this above her mess of sheets, writhing for her as she finally drops her mouth to you, licking a long strip along your slit, her eyes nearly rolling back at the taste of you soaking her tongue.

“A-ah! Vi!”

It doesn’t take long after that, a few good, hard sucks on your clit, and her pushing three fingers back into you, and you’re coming apart for her, your thighs shaking as you whine and jerk and gasp your way through your orgasm, Vi fucking you through it slow, leaning up to press a kiss to your shoulder as your breaths start to even out and your lashes flicker open again.

“Hey there, princess,” she grins.

You’re still a little breathless, but you pull her down for another long kiss, tracing her jaw with your thumb.

“Hey,” you answer, pulling away.

Vi chuckles, slumping down on to the bed next to you to stare at the pebbled ceiling. The warmth of her old Christmas lights casting everything in a soft, diffused glow. She feels you shift and tuns to find you looking at her, your cheek pillowed on your arm.

She shifts to mirror your position, reaching out a hand to stroke your cheek.

You catch her hand with a smile, wrapping your fingers around hers as you say —

“Six. I get it now.”

Vi frowns. “What?”

You splay your palm over hers, touching the tip of her pointer finger with yours as you start to count.

“One, two, three —” you say, a mischievous grin twisting your lips as you point to her middle and ring finger, before pointing to your own hand, “four, five, six,” you finish, wiggling the three fingers that had so recently been shoved into her throbbing cunt.

Vi stares at you for a solid few seconds before she shoves her face into her pillow and screams.

“Oh my god — get the fuck outta here!” but she surfaces laughing, and you’re laughing too, and the sound is so intoxicating, so mind-numbingly lovely that she thinks if she could, she’d grind your laughter into powder and get high on the lines of your smile.

She inches forward to pull you closer, tucking you into her chest.

“You’re insane, you know that?” she asks, pressing her lips to your forehead as you giggle. You wiggle your arms around her middle till your bodies are pressed curve for curve, skin to skin. And you settle against her as if you were always made to be there to begin with.

“Mm, been told a few times…” you murmur, your voice soft.

A tiny clink jars both of you from your post-orgasmic stupor, and you both pull back, only to find your necklaces linked — the pendants stuck together with a pair of tiny magnets set at the point of each teardrop, so small that Vi hadn’t noticed when you’d first given it to her.

“Oh, I didn’t get to show you this back in the locker rooms but…” you reach up to tug the two pendants apart before letting them snap back together.

“The necklaces come as a pair and they link together like this —” you show her the two pendants, the shape something like an hourglass or the two rabbit ears of a perfectly tied bow.

“That’s cute, but… what’s it supposed to be? A time-turner thing?” Vi pushes herself up on an elbow to try and get a better look.

You shake your head, pouting slightly.

“Nope! Well, I mean, it’s sold as an infinity symbol cause —” you roll your eyes, “forever and all that crap —”

Vi smirks, “Oh yeah. That crap.”

You shoot her a look before continuing, your cheeks burning, “But… it reminded me of a figure eight. You do those in hockey too, right?”

Vi nods, “Yeah, they’re drills that we run. Pretty basic.”

You nod, “And in figure skating, we used to have these mandatory figures we’d have to skate to demonstrate our edge control — hence the name figure skating. Amara still makes us do them, because she’s old fashioned as all hell, but I just thought… it was kinda nice… for the two of us…” your voice trails off as you drop your hand and the two pendants hang, suspended between the pair of you with nothing but their own magnetism.

Vi licks her lips, “Yeah… it is nice.”

She leans in, tilts your head up for a kiss, but you tug back just an inch.

“Vi…?”

“Hm? What is it?”

You blink up at her, a flash of uncertainty flickering behind your eyes as you glance down at her lips.

“We’re… we’re dating now… right?”

Vi stares. And stares. And then, she pulls back with a dramatic groan.

“Oh my god, you did not just seriously hit me with the what are we after we’ve just fucked each other into another dimension, after I’ve been wearing the necklace that you gave me, the one that matches your necklace —”

You scramble forward to push Vi down, yelping.

“Okay! Okay — I’m sorry! It’s just —”

Vi raises her eyebrows, pinning you with a look even though you’re perched above her, your hands clamped over her wrists.

“Neither of us ever properly asked the other one out, and — and I know you said girlfriend in front of Caitlyn back at the party but —”

“Hey princess?”

You break off, blinking as she pushes up and settles you over her lap.

Vi smiles, tugging your chin towards her.

“Will you go out with me?”

The smile that breaks across your lips is so pretty, so tooth-achingly sweet that Vi thinks she just has to lean forward and taste it.

So, she does.

You nod, breathless even as she chases your lips, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

“Yes — yes… I will.”

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[xiaowhore]

intoxicating.

premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.

somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.

Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.

He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.

Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.

Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.

However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.

At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.

Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.

“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”

So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.

“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”

Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”

You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”

Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”

You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”

“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.

For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”

He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”

“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”

“...No?”

“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”

“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”

“Is it working?”

Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.

“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.

“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”

When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.

“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-

Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.

“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.

“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.

The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”

You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.

“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”

“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”

“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”

Just what on earth did you do last night...?

???

[lost-inthe-v0id]

Someone PLEASE needs to do this

Like something about zuko and fire bending reader being engaged. Like she’s a royal and they’re being “forced to get married” but they actually fall in love. They support each other through everything and they’re literally stuck at the hip. They sneak out to see each other and whenever they have to go to formal events they can’t wait to see each other and they goof around all night. She knows all of his secrets and how he feels about his father and mother.

Reader somewhat gets along with Azula. Reader doesn’t like the way she treats zuko sometimes but she acknowledges she is only a product of the adults around her so she has a soft spot for her.

Then when zuko get exiled he’s so caught up on getting his fathers approval. He promises to her he’ll be back before she knows it. He knows how hard it is for her in the palace. She tries to go with him just as his ship is leaving, pleading with him one last time; insisting she can be of help. He declines her kinda harsh but she understands and bids him farewell. She walks away but remembers she has to give him something. A token of good luck. When she runs back to give it to him she over hears Zuko talking to someone telling them he didn’t want reader to come because she’d be baggage, a burden, dead weight. Reader is hurt and goes back to her room in the palace and cries her sorrows away. She really thought he thought more of her, he always complimented her when she firebent, she was taught by the best and he still thought of her as deadweight?

In Reality Zuko only said that because he knew he wasn’t going to come back for a while, he knew it would inevitably she would fall for someone else during the time he was away. What if he came back with his hopes up only to find her in the arms of someone else, someone who was there for her, who would care and love her then and there. He wasn’t good for her. And the faster he convinced himself he could move on, the less he would cling to her when he inevitably saw her again.

Time passes by and reader comes to the conclusion from the help of overthinking, that he never loved her. It was all a facade to win the approval of his father. If he really cared for her , he would know how awful it was in the palace without him. He abandoned her. And for what to find some kid?

She joins azula. She’s really good at fire bending and she hates to see azula practically destroy herself and the people around her for some approval. So she decided if no one will properly take care of her, she will. Over time Reader has disconnected her feelings from the actions she takes under Azula. Her only concern right now is Azula. She realizes Azula at her core is a wounded little girl and she takes care of her as her own.

IDK when or where reader and zuko reconnects or see glimpses of each other again but when he sees how she cares for Azula he melts away. You’re so scary to people around you but soft and nurturing towards his sister. He wants that. He needs it. At one point when you challenge him to fight due to anger from maybe hurting Azula in some type of way or jealousy due to his kindness towards katara. When you firebent in the past you made sure your flames wouldn’t hurt him but now they’re coming at him full force and he doesn’t know what to do.

@ me if u do plz give credit 👉👈🥺 I can’t write like that

[taintedcigs]

— even if it’s handcuffed i’m leaving here with you

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: steve asks eddie for his handcuffs to spice up things in the bedroom with you, and once things go wrong, the two of you turn to eddie for help… in more ways than one. (wc: 3.1k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut smut smut, or*l (f!receiving), handcuffs duh, lots of praises, dom!eddie, steve kinda subby but also soft!dom? the dynamics are mixed LMAO, pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby, slut), mmf, three way kissing idk

authors note: so this is what happens when a girl mixes her three hyperfixations; 9-1-1, steddie and CHALLENGERS. i wrote this v long ago it is a bit shitty and not proof-read SO IGNORE ALL MISTAKES THANK U. (also this is sm more meaningful to me now bc i got this song as my surprise song like i accidentally manifested this WAIT.)

and please, if you wanna support me; reblog + like + comment ILY!!

Steve is embarrassed.

Embarrassed that he has to ask Eddie for this. For handcuffs to use that he has no idea what the fuck to do with.

And of course Eddie finds it all amusing, a smirk plastered on his face while he teases Steve, rosy-cheeks turning pinker.

And normally, it would've pissed him off, Eddie's teasing, his flirty comments towards you, towards him.

But for some reason, it doesn't.

The three of you have this dynamic that he can't quite put his hand on, it's different, exciting, new, it intrigues him, more than anything.

You and Steve had just started dating, a couple months in, the honeymoon phase and all, and of course, Eddie had been there for it all.

The first moment you caught Steve's eye, you caught Eddie's too, the dynamic settled in then with Steve charming you right away, while Eddie's flirty antics didn't go unnoticed by you.

Yet, somehow, someway, it snowballed into you dating Steve. But it didn't end there. The three of you hung out often.

Very often.

So much so that you had regular movie nights, always ending up high out of your minds with Eddie’s shitty weed, talking each other's ears off 'till the sun came up.

You knew everything about his life, his shitty band gigs (the one Steve dragged you to, and surprisingly his music didn't suck), his uncle, his girlfriends. Or the lack thereof.

Eddie always mentioned how he just hadn't found the right one yet, just a bunch of meaningless sex.

And he made sure to always come to the both of you afterwards, telling everything, in great fucking detail too. 

Maybe it was weird for anyone else. But for the three of you, it was your normal. 

Especially for you, because you enjoyed them. Enjoyed his stories as they made you squirm in your seat. Reactions not going unnoticed by Steve.

And it's what led to Steve wanting to spice things up in the bedroom with you. He knew the sex was great. He was obsessed with you, and you were with him.

But, fuck, there was something missing. Something he couldn't pin point exactly. And he was willing to try out anything, especially when he remembered how much you reacted to one of Eddie's stories with the handcuffs, later mentioning to him that you really liked the idea.

The idea of losing control, giving yourself fully to another partner, and Steve's knees almost gave out right then and there.

He didn't know where the fuck to obtain handcuffs, hence why he immediately ended up at Eddie's door, enduring his endless teasing, sort of hoping that he'd offer to help.

An idea that crossed his mind, but one that he'd never verbalize, unless, you mentioned it too.

The second he showed you the handcuffs you squealed in excitement, putting on your best lingerie, making a show out of everything before the two of you didn't hesitate to jump on each other. His clothes scattered in the room, you in your lingerie, hungry for each other.

His mouth lingered, scent so intoxicating that you could feel your thighs dampen, lips all over your skin and hands squeezing whatever he could grab onto, both of you feral.

“Y'know I didn't wanna have to do this,” he murmurs into your lips, bringing the cuffs in your view, playing into it, enjoying the giggles you give him in return. 

“Please, sir, promise I'll be good,” you pout with those doe eyes, making Steve almost cave in, cock stirring against his tight boxers, begging to be attended to. 

He gives a rough grunt before pining your hands above your head “That’s my girl.” 

“But you still have to be punished,” he hisses quietly, putting his weight on top of you, the cold metal off the first cuff making you shiver, he tightens it as soon as he locks it, making sure your other wrist is free, for now. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya, doll.” His hums make you whine loudly.

“For now.” You can feel his smirk widening when his lips attack yours again, hungry, as his bulge presses against your inner thighs, his hand holding your cuffed one in place, making you mewl desperately, kisses traveling down your chest. 

And of course, you use his distraction to your advantage, quickly grabbing onto his free hand, the second cuff clicking onto its place before he can even attempt to protest. 

“I guess we’re even now, pretty boy,” you tease with a sultry voice, but Steve’s head pops up to meet your doe eyed gaze with a panic. 

“Did you just handcuff us both to the bed?” He asks, shear dread overtaking his face, making you furrow your brows. 

“Yeah, baby, that’s the whole point,” you giggled, attempting to kiss him again but he pulled away. “Fuck,” he groaned, making you roll your eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, I know you have a thing for women being in control.” 

True, and it would’ve turned him on, almost made him bust out right then and there, if the context was any different, but instead he could just groan in panic. “Oh, sweetheart, I do, but fuck-”

“What?” You ask, face puzzled.

“The keys are in my pockets,” he murmurs, gaze trailing near the dresser. 

Your eyes follow his, the jeans you threw in a hurry were placed upon the dresser, far away from the two of you, and there was no physical way to reach for them. 

Both of you, cuffed to the bed, and no one there to save you.

“Oh, shit.” 

-

The two of you tried every possible position to get out, but there was no fucking luck, and that’s when you finally settled on calling someone for help. 

It was obvious the only person you could call for help was Eddie, but you knew his teasing would be relentless, curls bouncing each time a laughter rumbled from his stomach, making you huff out immaturely. 

“Seriously, Eddie, this isn’t funny!” Steve chided, a bit playfully considering he knew how stupid the two of you must’ve looked, and it just made Eddie chuckle louder and louder. 

“Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my week!” 

“C’mon, Eds, just help us.” Your soft tone caught his attention quickly, his smirk disappearing just as fast before he approached the two of you closer, now able to get a much better look at the two of you. 

“Oh, Harrington, what did you even do?” He rambled, trying to ignore that feeling he always got, but this time much stronger, you in your lingerie, and Steve’s obvious bulge that made Eddie gulp physically. Shit.  

“I totally should’ve offered to teach you both.” He didn’t even know where the fuck that came from. Word vomit.  

“Why didn’t you?” Curiosity got the best of you, and you didn’t even realize the implications of your words, until the two boys snapped their heads in your direction, like you’ve blurted out the most scandalous shit ever. 

“I- uh- what?” Eddie stammered, eyeing Steve carefully, not knowing if this was a joke. Or if both of you actually meant it.

He never thought it was possible. This. The three of you. Sure the dynamic between all of you had been tethering on something more. But never straight forward like this. 

It surprised both of you when Steve spoke up, lips twitching into a smirk. “Why didn’t you offer to teach us?” The two of you finished each other’s sentences, it almost looked intentional, as if the two of you have planned this, like the two of you ever talked about this. 

You didn’t, it was just natural. Something you both had been too ashamed to admit. 

Something even Eddie couldn’t admit to himself, other than a few jokes, and some drunken confessions here and there, but nothing like this.

All he ever wanted.

Eddie’s usual confidence was wavering, and it was amusing to see, exciting. Something you’d love to explore. Make him beg. God, you knew he’d sound pretty as fuck when he whined. 

“W-would you guys want that?” Stammering, again, yet you can’t get too cocky, because you know once Eddie fully wraps his head around what the fuck is happening, he’ll lean back into that domineering side. After the countless stories the two of you  have heard, it intrigues you both. So you and Steve unanimously help him to get there. 

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t offer it, Munson,” you encouraged, watching the way his eyes oggle both of you, curious, ecstatic, that dirty mind conjuring something.

“So… you’re both sure about this?” 

“Sure that I want to be fucked by both of you? I think so, Munson.” You roll your eyes, so bored of the fact that you’ve been handcuffed for the past twenty minutes with no action, and because you knew it’d rile Eddie up. You’ve seen the flare in his gaze before, jaw locking in each time you rolled your eyes at him. 

And it works, like a switch, you see the dominance bubbling up on his face.

“Feisty that one, isn’t she, Stevie?”

“Mmhm, the dirtiest mouth,” Steve adds, soft hands squishing your cheeks with a smirk, insides feeling gooey with the way they both eye you. 

He tssked, “Haven’t you taught her some manners?” You whined slightly at that comment, they both knew what you wanted, what you desired, your boundaries… everything. 

A dynamic that’s been brewing for months… finally exploding into reality, and of fucking course you couldn’t hide your excitement, making Eddie grin. 

He’s quick to uncuff Steve, a groan leaving his lips at the relief from the cold metal against his skin, making Eddie’s cock stir at the sound. His two play things. And he’s going to have so much fun. 

“Wanna help me teach her some manners, pretty boy?” Steve didn’t even answer, holding you down and spreading your thighs while Eddie grabbed your other hand, cuffing you properly this time, tightening it and relishing in your pathetic mewls. 

Biting the inside of your thighs, Steve didn’t hesitate to tease you, spreading your pussy lips open to show it to Eddie, both of them grinning hungrily, “look how pretty she looks, Eds.” 

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Eddie hummed, admiring, groaning with a deep sigh. 

All he fucking dreamed about. 

Glistening with your arousal, inviting him in, and those goddamn sultry eyes were driving him insane, making him blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining, both of you looking at him like you wanted to eat him up. 

A kind of attention he wasn’t used to, but it got him more and more riled up, confident, trailing his fingers by your inner thighs, the sensation of Steve’s lips brushing against your thighs while Eddie’s fingertips softly teased at your skin was something straight out of a dream. 

Eddie looked at Steve, a subtle need to get his permission to press his lips to you.

So new… boundaries blurred and unknown, and Steve was quick to nod, hungrily watching the two of you, cock straining so hard against his boxers that he was aching.

Desperate. 

Eddie was more or less the same, especially when you initiated the kiss, the softness of your lips brushing against his, making him whine pathetically. 

It didn’t take long for him to take control again, the dynamic between the three of you changing ever so quickly, Steve still ghosting inside of your thighs, stomach, chest, legs, everywhere.

And shit… Eddie was a good kisser. 

His lips were demanding, soft but somehow still teasing, attentive. His tongue didn’t meet much resistance as it danced against yours, smooth, on beat, the type that made flutters appear in your stomach, all the while Steve’s touches making your thighs dampen. 

Too much. But in the best way possible. 

If your hands weren’t tied up, it would’ve been surfing through their soft hair, demanding more attention, making you grew more and more frustrated, a smirk sitting on both of their lips at your pathetic moans. 

A light scruff of Eddie’s beard scratched against your cheeks before he broke the kiss, “Steve,” he hummed, gaining his attention, head popping up all ecstatic, “C’mere.” 

Both of them stick to your side, weight of the bed shifting as the gazes exchanged almost burned each other through the core. Full of longing, desire, and hunger.  

Eddie angled your face toward Steve, “Kiss her,” he demanded.

A demand that didn’t take Steve a second longer to obey, thick fingers brushing against your face as his big hands cupped your heated cheeks, with your lips parted slightly he didn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth, possessing you fully, completely, an uncontrollable whine slipping past your lips. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, “you guys are so hot.” His breath fanned against your neck, hot hands running down your body, all three of you growing more and more impatient with each ragged breath, Steve’s tongue still shoved down your throat while Eddie played with your breasts, lips on your neck, making you squirm. 

You could feel Eddie’s needy cock pressing against your ass, while Steve’s was barely confined in his boxers, prodding against your thigh, you don’t know how or when it happened but Eddie had joined in on the kiss too, the three of your lips moving in synch, busy between each other’s hot mouths, tongues curious and on beat, all magical and tempting.

Dark depths you always wanted to explore but never could, sloppy and filthy in the best way possible, shutting your eyes close as you enjoyed it, felt it all. 

Unsure of who’s tongue was tangled in yours at this point but you could careless, disorienting you in a way that you couldn’t tell whose hands were hot all over your body, everywhere, messy, and uncontrolled. 

And fuck, did you need more. 

You could tell they did too, dicks twitching against you in a way that made you flutter. 

And it felt like the three of you communicated, telepathically, because both of them, somehow managed to break the kiss, making your face fall in for more, unable to do anything with your hands cuffed to the bed. Infuriating, and not helping the wetness that had well already pooled inside of you. 

“Awww, our pretty baby is needy, isn’t she?” Eddie mocked, both of them shifting down to your thighs, attention all on you as they spread you wider, mesmerized gaze following your every slight twitch. 

“Relax,” Eddie cooed, amber gaze dangerously warm, both making you whine and giving you comfort at the same time, and before you could think, Steve’s hands warmed you up as well. 

“Let us take care of you,” he added, and you couldn’t help but enjoy their squeezing, kneading, making you feel so fucking good. 

You nodded, squirming as Eddie’s bearded chin tickled your skin, planting kisses inside of your thigh, while Steve’s fingers teased you, and all you could do was whine, hips rising from the bed, lust overshadowing the initial doubt. 

“That’s our good girl,” Eddie praised, your thighs spread open, pussy exposed, completely. The two of them taking care of you, hands everywhere and one of their thumbs teasing your entrance, collecting your juices, smearing it around your lips, making you go airborne. 

You could barely comprehend what happened when fingers slipped inside of you, one at first, then two, slicked in your juices, teasing, pumping in and out of you.

Head thrown back, you embrace the euphoria, different fingers entering inside of you, both of them deeper and deeper, squelching noises and your whimpers so heavenly that Eddie could feel his cock twitching, while Steve pathetically rutted into the sheets, desperate for some friction.

Fingering you until you could hear how wet you were, opening you up. Fully exposed to them.

You were too fucked out to notice that they had both started kissing your pussy lips, lapping up your juices, drinking you in, Eddie on one side and Steve on the other. 

Heaven-sent.

You moaned like a bitch in heat, Eddie and Steve’s dripping cocks stirred at the sound, desperate to make you cum, to taste you.

Their fingers linked inside of you, thumbs continuing their rubs, and that hot white spot appeared behind your eyes. 

You wanted to cum.

Fuck that.

You needed to cum.

And who were they to deny their little angel? 

You had earned it.

Back arched, hands tight against the cuffs, all you could do was mewl as their fingers were stretching you, licks all over your hole making your breath ragged, “E-Eds… Stevie… I-I… shit!” 

Eddie was quick to pop his head to meet your gaze, fingers still continuing their movements, flicking your sensitive spots as he gave you that goddamn grin again. “You wanna cum doll… don’t ya?” 

Your body was frail. The most beautiful ache. Your entire nerve system felt like it was about to explode. 

Everywhere. All at once. 

“Come for us,” Steve  encouraged, his and Eddie’s fingers moving faster, Steve lapping up your juices while Eddie’s tongue found your clit, sucking on it like it was his lifeline. 

The softest tongue, but the roughest movements. Just fucking perfect. 

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, “E-Eddie, S-Steve!” 

“That’s right, slut, scream our name while you come for us,” Eddie demanded. 

And fuck you wanted more, so much more. Just the idea of having two of them inside of you at the same time was enough to have your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head. 

But you couldn’t wait. 

“You-you’re both so… fuck… fu… fu… fuckkkkk…” Your words got caught in the back of your throat, pathetic noises was all they could make out, especially as Eddie’s tongue circled around your clit, suckling, fingers working faster as it finally brought you over the edge. Making you jerk and come so hard that white spots flew behind your eyes. 

The wildfire and the chemistry between the three of you burning your insides, that tingling warm sensation prickling every inch of your skin. 

“God, you taste perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie praised with a low hum. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that fucking moan?”

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” Steve growled, making you his while he gently uncuffed you, each of their praises sending warm tingles down your spine.

Fuck, they were good. 

And as Steve was about to get up, Eddie stopped him with a quick tut. “Okay, pipe down, sweetheart, you still have a lot to learn.” 

With that dumbfounded look on his face, he turned to face Eddie, making him grin wider. 

“Oh, Stevie you look so cute with that confused look on your face, such a pretty face isn’t he?” Eddie’s attention turned to you, still so domineering that all you could do was frantically nod. 

“Do you wanna help me teach him, baby?” You nodded, again, gaze glazed, overtaken by desire.

The two of you were quick to pin him down, skin meshing all together when you helped Eddie cuff him.

“Let us take care of you, pretty boy.” 

[hxney-lemcn]

Care for Yourself my Love — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: taking care of yourself wasn't your best skill, thankfully you have someone to help you build it up.

tw: unhealthy eating habits! If you're sensitive to this please don't read this fic! I'm not glorifying or romanticizing this, I just wish I had someone to help keep me on track (you'll notice I make the reader actively try to better themselves). mentions of depression/depressive traits (leona, idia).

a/n: I wanted to write something, ik people have done this already but here's my two cents because I've delt/deal with this too

wc: 1.7k (~250 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

You don’t try to be so forgetful, it’s just you're either always running late or you find yourself procrastinating to the point you don’t have time. Unfortunately, your carelessness has gotten to the best of you and you found yourself nearly passing out while preparing for the upcoming unbirthday party. Even more unlucky, you swayed dizzily in front of Riddle, nearly toppling over and knocking over paint buckets. At first he felt his temper flare, that paint wasn’t cheap and now they’ll have to get more. Not only that, but now your shoes, socks, and pants were covered in red paint. But then he noticed the concerned look on Trey’s face and how you held onto him for support while holding your head, eyes closed tight. That was when the worry set in, were you alright? Why had you been so clumsy in the first place? You apologized to the two, casually bringing up how you can’t remember eating anything yet and that was most likely the cause. After that, Riddle tried keeping track for you, scolding you anytime you mumbled about forgetting to eat. How could you forget something so important! You couldn't learn properly if you didn’t take care of yourself. Not to mention the heart attack he nearly gets every time he recalls that moment of you nearly fainting in the rose garden. He doesn’t want that to happen again, so he’ll continue to help you out until you learn to take care of yourself better.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

Honestly…I think he’s in the same boat. People call him lazy, selfish, and rude, and his only escape from all his problems is his dreams. Where people love him, where he’s important, where he’s cherished. So this can go one of two ways. 1) You both feed into each other's bad habits and become worse. Or 2) you notice his bad habits, and in trying to correct them (Ruggie helps tremendously with this…he also gets free food so he doesn’t mind) you find yourself improving on your own. Leona lets you take however much money you want, little does he know, most of that money is being used on him as well. You end up buying matching water bottles on a whim and you find yourself actually drinking a healthy amount of water now. This also goes for Leona, as every time you get food, you bring some for him, every time you go to get water, you bring some for him. In fact, he actually uses the water bottle you bought him, but it's only cus it reminds him of you…not that you’ll ever know. Slowly over time, you both improve each other, and you find yourselves feeling more healthy than ever before. Especially when Leona decides to have you join him for his spell drive training, making you participate in it as well. Not because he hates you, but he sees what you’ve done for him, and wants to help you in his own way in return…he just makes it seem and feel like a punishment. 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a sharp one that never lets a detail go. He noticed your bad habits from the start. It only bit him back when he started to genuinely care for you. He felt his mind want to tear itself apart when you came by the lounge after school, immediately being placed in his VIP room, and him hearing your stomach growl. When he asked if you wanted food you denied, stating you didn’t have the funds. That made him want to rip Crowley apart. Instead of letting that anger show, he only smiled, making up some bullshit about how its on the house today. Azul made sure that the Leech twins kept an eye on you, and if your self-destructive habits got too out of hand they would step in. At first you were apprehensive when Jade would randomly appear, asking if you’ve eaten or drank anything recently. Azul nearly broke down in tears when one time you shrugged nonchalantly, asking if it mattered. It was then that you realized that your habits not only affected you, but the people you cared about as well. So you promised him you’d try to better yourself. If you forgot breakfast you at least had a granola bar on hand. If you forgot water, Floyd would throw a water bottle at you. It was a slow process, but after a while you started taking better care of yourself, and all Azul could do was breathe a sigh of relief. He was not going to let someone he cared about become their own greatest downfall. 

❥ Jamil Viper

At first, he’s annoyed. Out of spite he won’t help you, his gray eyes watching to see you stumble with slight gratification. Those feelings soon crumbled the closer you two got, and that gratification slipped into apprehension. Jamil was going to lose all his hair at this rate. So when you forgot to buy food, or used all your money for other necessities Jamil started packing you a lunch alongside his own and Kalim’s. He quickly grew annoyed at how pleased he felt when he watched you scarff down his food, exclaiming how great it was. You forgot how warm the Scarabia dorm was and were currently sweating to death beneath all your layers? Don’t worry, Kalim had bought you tons of outfits already (no matter how much Jamil tried to stop him), he’ll take you to a spare room for you to change. You start feeling woozy, there’s a seat nearby and he’s already got water and a snack. Even though he’s still a bit annoyed he had to do all this in the first place…you had managed to wiggle your way into a soft spot in his heart. So for you, he doesn’t mind taking care of you. Not as long as you promise to try and learn to take care of yourself as well, because he’s not sure how much more his heart can take seeing you accidentally hurt yourself in one way or another. Plus, he won’t always be there to stabilize you…not unless you choose to stay by his side. 

❥ Vil Schoenheit

This mf knew right away. He could tell with the way you cared so greatly for others, that you had no room to care for yourself. Vil makes a whole schedule for you, when you should eat, drink water, and exercise to be your best self. You are now an honorary pomefiore student with the way he treats you. Even with the added slack of not living on the dorm grounds…you’re still not safe. Vil gets spider senses with you slacking on self care and sends Rook to check in on you. He makes you set alarms, gets you a fashionable yet hefty water bottle for you to carry around. Honestly…he works the best when it comes to self care. He doesn’t even have to text you anymore, you’ll be slouching and he’ll pop in your mind and you fix your posture. Talk about living in your mind rent free. He’s also the harshest, his whole thing is being your best self and he’ll be damned to see you hurt yourself because you weren’t thinking clearly due to not eating enough. It all comes from a place of care though, he’s just not the best at expressing that. Just know that every time he scolds you it’s because he cares about you. If it gets too much though just tell him, he’ll pamper you a bit with a self care spa day sometime soon. At the end of the day, he wants to see you thrive, not survive. 

❥ Idia Shroud

…worst person. Sorry. He’s worse than Leona. At least Leona is a part of a sport and still has to slightly take care of himself because of that. Idia has no motivation whatsoever. He is in his room nearly 24/7 with barely any contact outside. Never drinks water, barely eats (it's mostly snacks at that), and does he even sleep? Ortho is the one who does constant check-ins and brings him food and water. Although Ortho keeps constant health checks, he can’t help but be sad everytime he sees his brother push food to the side and forget about it. So if you’re looking for someone to help you with your habits I’m sorry but Idia will feed into your bad ones. If anything, it's Ortho helping you out. One time, you and Ortho had a little cooking hang out, and you brought a portion to Idia, and he ate it right away. It was then that Ortho found out a way to make you and his brother eat more. So expect more invites to cook with Ortho. In fact, he even got Idia to join! How fun! Even though the outcomes were more or less mid, you all had fun while making it. It got to the point that you and Ortho would keep challenging yourselves and would have Idia be your taste tester. Besides, how could he say no to you when you stared at him so expectantly? Just don’t ask why he never rates your food under a 7 out of 10. 

❥ Malleus Draconia

Fae’s and humans were similar and different. One big difference was how much one needed to consume in order to sustain themself. You’d think a dragon fae would need to eat a lot in order to sustain such a powerful body, but they actually eat less. So if anything, Malleus didn’t see anything abnormal about how little you ate or drank. So when you immediately fell back in your seat after attempting to stand up, Malleus had rushed to your side, unsure what was wrong. You smiled in a carefree manner while trying to wave away his worry, explaining how you probably should’ve eaten more. It was then that he realized he had been negligent about your health and went to Lilia for answers. He visibly paled when Lilia told him humans needed to eat at least three times a day and drink tons of water. Now you have a dragon fretting over you 24/7. He knew humans were fragile, but every day he finds out they’re more fragile than he originally thought which caused him to fuss over you. You needed to eat more, child of man, he doesn’t want you leaving him earlier than expected. Humans die if they don’t drink water for three days? He now carries a water bottle for you everywhere you go. You’ll never have to worry about forgetting to eat again…in fact, you’re probably pleading with Malleus to give you a break, you’ll die if you overeat too…which causes him to spiral again…

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[jjkamochoso]

Pt. 2 of Imagine… Soshiro Hoshina Finding You on the Brink of Death

Angst, Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of hospital setting/devices

You can find the all angst ridden part 1 here!

One week.

That was how long it had been since Soshiro had seen your alluring (e/c) eyes, heard your infectious laugh, blushed at your gentlest smile reserved just for him. The past 7 days of you in a coma after almost becoming a kaiju meal had been devastating for him and the rest of your teammates. You had many visitors over the hours you lied completely still on your hospital bed, but you weren’t the only unmoving person in your room. Soshiro had rarely moved an inch from your side, only getting up to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t remove himself from his seat next to your fragile body in case you woke up; he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone in such a vulnerable state anyway.

“They’re under the best care here, Hoshina. Go get some rest,” Captain Ashiro had told him on day 3, when Soshiro was sporting dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He respectfully refused, and Mina knew better than to fight with him right now—he was as stubborn as he was talented with his swords. Every time the nurses came in to check your vitals, they looked upon him and his sad state of being with sorrow, feeling awful to see the man in such despair. They had taken it upon themselves to deliver meals for him since they all knew he wasn’t leaving to eat. Even if most of the time the tray sat untouched, they took it as a win when a pudding or fruit cup disappeared.

Day 5 was the hardest for Soshiro. By that point, he was delirious from staying up practically all night in case you needed something. His typed reports stopped making sense, his brain nowhere near as sharp as usual due to the fog of grief that had settled in his mind. The steady beeps of your life support machine haunted his every waking moment, a perfect symphony of the anguish he couldn’t escape. Thankfully, Kafka had heard about his vice captain’s condition and visited that night, offering to take over Soshiro’s watch in case you woke up. Soshiro was extremely reluctant at first, but he knew that you and Hibino were close; he also trusted the kind hearted man enough to know he’d be there for you in case something happened. With strong hesitation, Soshiro left your sight for the first time in 96 hours, heading to the shower. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn’t wash away the feelings of guilt he harbored over your injuries.

If only I was faster, stronger… I could’ve been there sooner. Stopped the kaiju from ever sinking its disgusting teeth into you. What kind of vice captain am I? What kind of… person am I? How could I ever expect them to love me back if I can’t succeed in my one job of protecting them?

He let his tears fall freely, mixing in with the water from the shower head.

Day 7 was the point where Soshiro was just… there. He barely felt anything anymore, whether it was exhaustion, anguish, or anything else. He sat next to you like normal, gazing at your chest as it sank and rose with shallow breaths, but his eyes were glazed over in a manner reminiscent of a man without hope. The doctors didn’t have an estimated time for you to wake up. With injuries as extensive as yours, there was no telling when your body would be ready to start running on its own again. Soshiro didn’t know how to process that news; he liked seeing tangible results, and the fact that you had been hooked up to all these damn machines for so long and nothing had changed? It was pure torture to him. He found himself inching closer to you, if that were even possible, and he took hold of your hand with the softest of touches.

“I miss ya, y/n,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips. He was careful to not disrupt the IV as he laid a gentle kiss on your cold skin, savoring the sensation of doing what had wanted to do since he first met you all those years ago.

“Remember the promise we made to each other when we were young and dumb? Now we’re old and dumb,” he chuckled humorlessly, “and you still have to keep up your end of the bargain. You have to survive. I can’t lose you.”

He took in a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t lose you because I’m in love with you.”

It was like the world was playing a cruel joke on him—he finally garnered the courage to admit he had fallen in love, but the object of his affections wasn’t able to hear it. He let his head hang in misery as he kept your hand close to his face, eventually placing it against his cheek. He closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that you would wake up. If you died… he wouldn’t know how to move on from such a devastating blow. He knew this macabre scenario had a high probability of happening in this career field you two chose, but he always had faith in his and your abilities to stay alive. To say that faith had been shaken was the understatement of the century.

“Y/n, please. I can’t do this alone. I need ya back with me. You gotta keep fighting.”

Soshiro went to place your hand back on the bed when he swore he felt your fingers move against his own. His eyes widened in surprise as his heart started slamming against his rib cage. Was that real or just his imagination?

It happened again.

And your eyes opened.

He slammed on the call button, informing the nurses of your awakening before turning his attention back to you.

“So-soshiro,” you tried to say, but your throat couldn’t form any words.

“Shh, don’t say anything, darling, I’m right here. Always have been, always will be.”

A grin swirled with anxiety and relief was present on his lips as he looked at you.

After a few hours of tests, doctors checking up on you, and small moments to collect your thoughts, you were finally able to form coherent sentences.

“You sat here the whole time? Now I feel bad,” you said, a small frown gracing your features.

“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t want you to be alone, that’s all,” Soshiro told you, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. “Did you… happen to hear anything I was saying before you woke up?”

“What, like how we’re old and dumb and that you’re in love with me?” you said, trying your best not to laugh at his shocked expression.

“Huh? You actually did hear me? I thought that only happened in movies!” he whined, his cheeks tinged with red.

“No reason to be embarrassed, Soshiro. I didn’t know how to tell you but I’m in love with you, too. I have been for a very long time.”

Soshiro was looking upon you like you had descended directly from the heavens, his eyes gleaming with unbridled joy as his fingertips danced over your arm, tracing shapes in an intimate, comforting manner.

“I‘ve been so worried about ya, sweetheart, but now that you’re back with me, it’s like I can breathe again.”

You relished in the calm quiet of the room, basking in Soshiro’s loving presence. He was exactly the driving force behind you willing your body to wake up. You could never leave him to walk this world alone.

“I also felt you kissing my hand,” you said after a long bout of silence. “That was very sweet of you.”

“Guess all I had to do was give ya true love’s kiss to wake up?” he joked, his little fangs peeking out of his lazy grin.

“I’m looking forward to my real kiss when I get out of the hospital,” you replied, attempting to wink at him.

He leaned his face over yours, his breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. “If you want, I can give you a preview of it right now.”

You felt your pulse quicken and apparently so did the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to; the machine started beeping, alerting that your numbers were abnormal.

Soshiro kissed your forehead before sitting down again, smirking. “Do I make ya nervous?”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Watch it Hoshina, or I’ll have you admitted into the bed next to me.”

Soshiro burst out in his trademark laugh, grabbing at his stomach and wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. You could be given all the medicine known to man but nothing could make you feel better than the promise of being loved by the easily amused violet haired man who will never leave your side.

[cheeseceli]

Their s/o is a songwriter

Pairing: idol Ot8!skz × songwriter Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanon, idol!au

Request: so what if skz finding out their partner is a song writer / composer? bonus points if the skz members also found out that they wrote their favourite song :>

Warnings: reader is implied to write for Kpop most of the time, not proofread.

A/n: as a songwriter, I appreciate this request a whole lot lmao. Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it!

Bang Chan

Honestly, I think this is something he would find out before dating you

Man knows everyone in the whole entertainment industry

Ofc he knows who you are

If anything, the way you both got to know each other more was through working together to make a stray kids song

Overall, I think he would love to have a partner in the industry

Even if you never get to be on stage

Simply because you understand him more than other people do

You know how music is essential and demanding at the same time

Your job probably makes him feel more connected to you

He likes to joke that you're the newest member of 3Racha

Always sends you songs he made your you to listen

And wants you to do the same

You can send him an audio at 1AM and bro will listen to it right away, ready to give you his opinion and advice (and praise)

Lee Know

Poor stray kids and stay

They will be listening to the songs you worked on nonstop

He just happens to be your biggest supporter 🤷🏻‍♀️

Has a whole 10 hours playlist with all of your work

Knows every lyric even if they aren't Korean

And he also enjoys dancing to it very much

Even if the song doesn't have a choreo, he likes to make up his own by listening to what you did

Probably invented a few trends with your songs because of it lmao

He also listens to it a lot when he's on tour

Even if it's not your voice that he's listening to, it's still you somewhat

He just wants to feel close to you

Asks you to sing or play the songs you produced

Might or might not have a small compilation of audios of you singing when he's way too homesick

(And if you wrote his favourite song, he would definitely have an audio of you singing it)

Changbin

Sees you as a very big inspiration

The amount of times he listened to one of your songs so he could get out of creative block is crazy

If anything, he probably already saw you as a role model before even getting to personally know you

Imagine the seo changbin fan boying you

If you write for other K-pop groups/soloists, he's probably trying to make references of what you wrote in his own rap

Fans always think he's talking about a certain idol or something but he really is just trying to include you in his work😭

And he would beg to have at least one stray kids song cowrote by you

Like literally begging

He needs to have one small Collab with you at least once

And will get a little pouty every time you can't work with skz because you're with another group at the moment

Hyunjin

Loves to have songwriting dates with you

Usually releases the songs you both write (with your permission ofc) as a skz-recorder

Stays are starting to wonder who is that composer/songwriter who is behind every single song Hyunjin is in lmao

I remember he said that one of his goals for 2024 was to produce more

So he will 100% seek your advice and even ask for some particular lessons at times

And he is always a little bit shy when he's about to show you what he's been working on

Because he feels like you are THE songwriter

And you're also his partner so like

Your opinion is a very big deal

And he's also so excited when you let him listen to a preview of your newest work

Is always awestruck

(Any song of yours would be his favourite lmao, and the best part of it is that he means it)

Han

He would LOVE to have a partner in the industry

Or just connected to art somehow, even if it's just a hobbie

I mean, look at his lyrics

Bro inhales and exhales art

The fact that you understand this side of him and even share this interest is so what he needed

He's also very very helpful when you need to write songs

I see late night dates in the studio

Even when any of you is far away for whatever reason

It can be 2am in Korea, he will be on his phone more than willing to listen to you brainstorm

Brainstorming with Han would be very fun overall lmao

It's either going to be the most sentimental thing to ever exist or it's going to be complete nonsense lmao

Oh and he would also make a lot of references to things you wrote

And would be so so so so happy if you ever made a reference to a work of his

Felix

I remember he said once that if he wasn't an idol, he would like to be a professional songwriter

So the fact that YOU are a songwriter/producer

He kinda loves you a little bit too much

One thing he loves is to understand your thought process

If you ever let him see your notes,he will try his best to understand every little thing

Even if it's only words with no correlation all over the page

He loves to know how your mind works

And he wants to know where the inspiration comes from!

(If it's from him he will never shut up about it)

Loves to know the stories behind each one of your works

He feels like he gets to know you a little more every time he listens to something that is yours

Is always covering one of your songs on lives

Seungmin

Literally everything you could've asked for, both in the dating aspects and in professional aspects

He makes sure you never overwork but will never restrain you from your work

Like, he knows that sometimes the inspiration comes at 2AM. He won't shut off your notebook, he'll be up with you and guarantee you don't stress

And he's your most honest critic

If you need help with rhymes, structure, chords or whatever, he is there

(After dating him you rarely browse anything at Google anymore, seungmin always understands the specific vibes you want)

And if you are a songwriter/ composer who doesn't know how to sing (that's me criticising myself) he always volunteers to make the demo for your songs

As I said, everything you could've ever asked for in a partner and coworker

I.N

Now this one

The moment he discovered he was begging to see some of your work

It's crazy how many of your songs were included in the playlist he has of songs that remind him of you😭

Talk about soulmates

I also believe that he would love to help you with songs

Give him one chance and this man is already with a notebook open trying to come up with the best verse ever

But he really likes to hear you brainstorm as well

Just you in your comfort zone really makes him admire you

And he loves how he can feel closer to you

Just reading the lyrics you wrote ou listening to the beat you produced makes him feel like he is meeting you for the first time again

Always having a new impression of you

Will also sing any demos you want him to!

Masterlist | you'll probably like: if skz wrote a song for you

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @yuyubeans

[spider-stark]

SPIDER-BOY

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.

friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Two months. 

That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned. 

Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.

And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return. 

Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far. 

“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?” 

Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?” 

“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.” 

“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?” 

“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing. 

His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.” 

“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.” 

Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance. 

“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further. 

“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.  

Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?” 

“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.” 

He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.” 

You cocked a brow at him, “How so?” 

“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?” 

“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile. 

Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.” 

“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted. 

“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.” 

“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.” 

Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short. 

His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology. 

“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment. 

“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.” 

He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.” 

The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face. 

“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.” 

Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing. 

“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.” 

His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it. 

“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.” 

Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights. 

Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.

[mim16s]

Survival in Game

Cho Hyun-ju x Autistic!Fem!Reader

•I'm not autistic, but I have a brother and a cousin who are, so I used my experience living with them to write this character. English is not my first language, but I tried my best to write this without spelling errors. This is my first story on this app, so I hope it is good.

This wasn’t what you wanted for your life. Honestly, you didn’t even understand how you had gotten to this point. All you wanted was to take care of your mother, to repay all the effort she had put into you. And you knew how hard it had been for her.

She got pregnant young and raised you on her own, with no support system. Your father? Well, you never knew him. He disappeared as soon as he found out about the pregnancy. Your grandparents, embarrassed that she had gotten pregnant so young and without even getting married, abandoned her too. That’s how your mother faced the world alone, with you in her arms.

And things got even harder. You knew that being autistic made everything more challenging for her. As a child, you didn’t speak, and your first words came only after many therapy sessions, which were expensive. But she never gave up. You remembered seeing her come home, exhausted after a long day of work, but always with a smile.

— Mom is fine. You’re everything I need to have strength, — she would say, trying to hide her exhaustion.

But you knew the truth. You knew how much she fought, how she struggled to meet all your needs, to make sure you never lacked anything. Everything fell apart when she got sick. You were 19. The illness took all her strength, and she could no longer work. That’s when the weight of the world fell on you. You had to find a job, but no matter how hard you tried, no one wanted to give you a chance. When they saw you weren’t neurotypical, they wouldn’t give you a chance.

Life became a daily struggle. You survived doing small jobs here and there, while some kind neighbors helped with food baskets. But the money was never enough, and the debts started piling up. Your mother’s treatments were expensive, and with each unpaid bill, the despair grew.Then he appeared. The man in the suit.He appeared out of nowhere, as if fate had sent him. With a piercing look, holding a briefcase in his hand. He stopped in front of you while you were resting in one of the subway chairs, with a smile that made you just as uncomfortable as it did curious.

— Looks like you need an opportunity, don’t you?—You hesitated, unsure of what to respond. He seemed to know exactly who you were and what you were going through.

— I want to propose something to you.

And that’s when you got a card with geometric symbols and a phone number. You stared at it, your heart racing without fully understanding it.

---

And now, here you were: in a strange hall, surrounded by people you didn’t know, in a place you had never seen before, wearing clothes you didn’t even remember putting on, and the fabric itched. You weren’t the only one confused. Perplexed looks crossed the room, and nervous whispers filled the air.

Then they appeared: masked soldiers, wearing uniforms that seemed more threatening than functional. You couldn’t help but shrink back, a heavy feeling that something was terribly wrong.They began to speak, explaining what was happening.

— Excuse me! — A voice echoed. Your eyes followed the sound until they landed on a beautiful woman, who seemed just as indignant as she was confident. — They said it would just be some games, but you kidnapped us. And you still want me to believe this?

— We apologize, — one of the masked soldiers replied, the voice distorted by some sort of modifier. — It was a necessary measure to ensure the confidentiality of the games we are organizing.

Questions started popping up from all sides, but the answers provided no comfort, only more tension. You wanted to understand better, but it was hard to follow. The questions, the sounds around you, the smell of sweat and fear in the hall, everything was pulling you in different directions. You began to rock back and forth slightly, trying to focus. It was something that always helped. But the discomfort persisted.

---

You were led to a large open field, surrounded by high fences and cameras that seemed to record every movement. It was announced that the first game would begin soon. When a desperate man screamed that, if anyone was eliminated, they would die, a chill ran down your spine. It couldn’t be true... right? But when the game began, the illusion of safety shattered. The sharp sound of a gunshot cut through the air. Your eyes widened, shock paralyzing you. That sound — loud, deafening to your sensitive hearing — seemed to hammer in your head. You instinctively wanted to cover your ears to block out that deafening noise, but you felt someone hold your hands firmly, preventing any sudden movements.

— Don’t move, it’s dangerous. — The voice came from behind. It was the beautiful woman from before. There was something in the firmness of her tone that managed to cut through your panic, bringing some calm.

— My ears hurt, — you murmured, your voice trembling.

— I know. But you have to hold on. Just a little longer.

Chaos spread around you. People were screaming, some running in desperation, while others were falling to the sound of new gunshots. You felt terror take hold, a heavy knot in your throat. Your legs felt like stone.

— If you don't cross the line in time, they'll still kill you! Look at the doll's eyes! They're cameras that scan for motion! But it's not able to detect you if you're behind something! — screamed one of the players, his voice desperate. — So if you short, line up behind someone who's taller than you!

Your body wouldn’t respond. You were frozen, the noise and the fear trapping you in place.The beautiful woman stopped in front of you, blocking your view of the rest of the field.

— Keep going. — Her voice was urgent, yet gentle. — You need to keep going. Don’t worry, I’ll stay in front of you. Just follow me, okay?

You couldn’t verbalize, but when the music started again, you followed her. Each step behind her felt like an eternity, but she kept her promise, protecting you as you moved forward.

After the game ended, everyone was taken back to the room. The atmosphere was heavy, filled with fear and despair. Lost looks, uncertain steps — everyone seemed terrified, and you were no different.Sitting on one of the beds, you rocked back and forth, an automatic motion, a desperate attempt to find comfort. But it didn’t help. Your breathing was uneven, the sounds around you seemed amplified, and all you wanted was to leave. Your mind raced in circles, always returning to the same question: Why me? You just wanted to help your mother. Everything you did was for her, and now you were trapped here, too scared to do anything.Then the voice of the masked soldiers echoed through the room, imposing order, the man from before who said he had already participated in this game proposed the vote.At first, the idea of voting seemed like an escape. A chance to get out of that terrible situation.

But then they revealed the amount of money accumulated by the people who had died. The sum gleamed in a giant safe suspended in the room. The shine of the money seemed to hypnotize some. Murmurs started to arise. Many were considering staying. You felt a tightness in your chest.

When the vote began, the sound of buttons being pressed was like a constant drum in your ears. You watched the people go to the ballot box, one by one, pressing their votes. Some hesitated, others went with determination.When it was your turn, your hands trembled as you walked up to the ballot box. The panel blinked in front of you: a circle to stay and an “X” to leave. You could barely see properly, your vision blurred by the tears at the corners of your eyes.Your finger pressed the “X.” You wanted to leave, go home. You needed your mother as much as she needed you. But when the final vote was recorded and the numbers were revealed, your heart sank.The majority had chosen to stay.Panic took over you again. Your fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, and you went back to your bed, feeling your whole body tighten. Your mind was in chaos. The rocking movement returned, but this time even more intense, as if your body was trying to compensate for the avalanche of emotions.You felt helpless. You wanted to scream, to cry, but all you could do was try to hold onto the little control you still had.

The terror was greater than anything you had ever felt before. And, even worse, it was just the beginning

Part 2

[hochsleep]

Relationship with Daryl Dixon (headcanons)

This is my first experience writing headcanons, but I have a lot to say! And yes, I used a gif from Beth, but we don't support that pairing here, guys.....

Also, thanks to the author of the gif!

Pronouns: she/her (fem!reader) / (I'll do headcanons for Daryl's relationship for gender-neutral readers later on)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon/fem!reader (Y/N)

Warnings: no, not this time. Everything is decent (underage readers can read)

• Daryl Dixon is far from stupid. I mean, he can certainly tell the difference between romantic interest and friendly sympathy. He has Carol, his best friend, and he knows that he feels for her the kind of platonic friendly love he usually feels for a family member. But that's not the case with you. Sure, you've most likely known Daryl for a long time (assuming you joined Rick's group at any point from Atlanta to Prison, can pick at your discretion). So since you've known each other for a while, Daryl has had time to realize that his feelings for you are far from friendly. All the tenderness and care that he feels for you hardly compares to friendship. Daryl definitely didn't feel like kissing Carol's lips every time she came into his field of vision. That's the difference.

• But realizing your feelings is only halfway there. Daryl isn't the type to make the first move and declare his love. He's a very insecure person because of his past, so it would be hard for him to believe that someone like you would want someone like him. Daryl will just watch over you from the sidelines, he will make sure you are safe and will always be there to protect you. Even if it's just a harmless fall down the stairs when you were arranging jars of canned fruit on the top shelf in the Alexandria pantry. He will notice that the stepladder beneath you is wobbling dangerously and will be there to catch you and prevent you from bruising any part of your body. He will take great care of you.

• Daryl is probably the type of man who idolizes and admires the girl he's in love with. Both her character and inner world, as well as her looks. He would spend hours just looking at your unconditionally beautiful face. Every mole, every freckle, every wrinkle in the corner of your eyes when you smile. God, he could never get enough. Every part of you is perfect. Daryl's not sure he's ever seen a more beautiful woman. I mean, he probably had a soft spot for women he personally thought were pretty in the past, but it was never more than a glance in their direction. Just trying to say that Daryl isn't a pristine and innocent man who never thought about women. Over the many years of his maybe not the most prosperous life, Daryl has definitely had his fair share of beautiful women. But it had always been respectful. Mental admiration from the sidelines. Daryl never "barked" or "bit" like Merle. Daryl is much more respectful of women.

• That's why he likes to watch from the sidelines and think about you. A lot of thinking. Daryl is indeed a man of few words, but he has more than enough to think about. And when he falls in love, you become the center. Except when Daryl has to think about survival or when he and Rick are making a plan of action to save the group. But rest assured, all of Daryl's free time is spent thinking about you. He's very observant and remembers every little thing about you so he can think about it later. Do you like to read? Daryl will listen to you talk about your favorite books and find them during one of your outings, rest assured. Do you like wildflowers? Great, a bouquet of a hundred of them will be waiting for you on the doorstep of your Alexandria home when you come home after a hard day's work. Maybe you like a certain kind of clothing? Like something knit? Daryl will either find it during the outing or ask Carol to help with it when she's not busy. He won't say who it's for, but Carol certainly knows. And after you get those little gifts, Daryl will watch you smile widely because you know who left them under your door. And Daryl will think about your smile until he falls asleep at night. But he'll only dream about you, too.

• Somehow you were the first to admit your feelings because Daryl is actually cowardly about these things. A man can take on walkers or hostile people with his bare hands (like the Saviors), but he definitely can't just go and tell someone he really likes how he feels. No, you have to push him. And hints aren't enough, you have to say it outright. And then probably prove the sincerity of your words of love for the rest of your life, because Daryl Dixon is a very insecure man. He knows in his brain that you really do love him and will be faithful to him, but those childhood traumas are really getting in the way of his life. Be prepared for that.

• Your relationship with Daryl will gain momentum gradually. I don't think Daryl really likes all these formalities and labels like "girlfriend" and "boyfriend". You're just his and he's just yours. There's no need to complicate it all, the world of the zombie apocalypse is already very complicated. But if you care about dates and formalities, surely Daryl can learn to take it seriously. Not right away, but he will. Just give him time and he'll lay the whole world at your feet. And he'll start marking your anniversary with a marker on his calendar so that he definitely won't miss this important day for you (he won't admit it, but for him too). Daryl will be learning and you'll have to be a good mentor in this relationship for the first few years. It will be worth it, trust me.

• Daryl Dixon gets attached to people easily. He's like a big loyal dog. I mean, have you seen how loyal he is to Rick and Carol? He bites at first, doesn't want to let anyone in, but eventually he gives in and lets you take his heart and soul under his protection. Take care of that. My point is that this is the same way love works in Daryl's case. I'm pretty sure Daryl doesn't believe in the concept of love at first sight and stuff, he rather believes that love only comes about through the process of a relationship. So at first he thinks you are just a pretty woman. Then a friend. Then a good friend. And yes, he may feel sympathy, affection and probably crush at this time, but not love. No, he falls in love with you gradually. It's a slow process, but in Daryl's case it will be forever. He's definitely a one-woman man. And when he allows himself to really love you and not just be a little bit in love, when his heart completely belongs to you and he finally says "I love you" with all seriousness and responsibility, rest assured that this is love. This man will show you what true love is. Safe, sincere, and endlessly committed. Just give him time. Let him love you.

• The following headcanon (though I think it's unqualified canon) about Daryl's loyalty follows from this. You may try to be jealous of him or think he'll fall in love with someone else (it all depends on your confidence), but Daryl will prove time and time again that he's only loyal to you. This man is serious about his and your feelings and your relationship. Therefore, he will not give not a single reason for jealousy. But there could be quite a few women around (and men probably too) who might like Daryl. He doesn't care, he will never look at anyone else. Why would he do that when he has you? You're perfect for him and his heart doesn't belong to him anymore. So if Daryl notices your jealousy and insecurity, he'll spend all his time trying to prove to you that you're the one for him. He's deeply committed. To Rick, to Carol, to Maggie, to Alexandria. He's eternally devoted to you.

• The relationship with Daryl will be full of complexities, let's not turn a blind eye to that. He's a complicated man with a lot of trauma behind him. The situation is more acute if you're a complicated person, too. There's a lot to put up with. Probably a lot of fighting at the beginning of the relationship, especially if we're talking about Daryl from the first seasons of the show. But if you're both willing to work on that relationship, it will work well. Again, not right away, but it will. Daryl is sure that his love for you will be enough for both of you and certainly for solving all your problems in this relationship. He will try his best for you and you will try your best for him too.

• Physical intimacy is probably going to be difficult. Daryl's not a fan of close physical contact, especially with someone he can't call his family. You know, the boy had a shitty childhood. But he feels the need to feel the warmth of your skin on his skin. So he may unknowingly touch you before your relationship even begins. It could just be a "casual" hand collision when you both reached for the same item on the shelf. Or he may lightly touch your shoulder when he needs to get your attention and say something to you. You shouldn't pressure him with this and force a hug or anything like that. He will definitely come to it on his own when he's comfortable and he sees that you're okay with it. As your relationship progresses, he will open up to new types of physical contact more quickly. Sure he'll hug you a lot, try to hold your hand in his, but it's all in private. And of course kissing. I think Daryl actually likes kissing, but he's not very good at it for lack of much experience. Teach him how to kiss well if you have enough experience yourself. He'll be a good student. Especially when it comes to lessons involving his lips on yours. I'm pretty sure Daryl will become very clingy as your relationship progresses. When you're alone together, he won't be able to feel comfortable unless his arms are around you in one way or another. He physically needs to hold you, to bump his nose into your neck and hair to smell your scent, which he loves so much. And of course kissing. Gentle kisses or passionate French kisses, he loves it all.

• Daryl definitely doesn't like the display of attachment on the publick. He considers it yours and his alone. Something private that needs to be kept out of the public eye. Well, he's also pissed off by those ambiguous looks Carol and Rick give him after you call him "baby" or "cutie" in public. But Daryl is willing to hold your hands and will even let you kiss him on the cheek in public if he's in a good mood. He'll save the rest for the two of you alone in your sweet home in Alexandria.

• As for intimacy, everything is ambiguous here. I think for Daryl it is not at all a mandatory aspect of the relationship. If you are asexual, he will have absolutely no problem with this. You are more than enough. The opportunity to see you smile, hug you and make you happy is all he needs. Sex is not necessary and Daryl can definitely live without it if you are not interested in sexual relations. But if you are not against it, then he will be happy to please you. I mean, he does it every day just by existing and loving you, but if he can please you in a sexual sense, he will be happy to do so. But again, not right away. You both will go to this gradually. Trial and error. Only when he completely opens up to you and is not ashamed of his scars, knowing that you love them completely and completely because they are a part of him. But most importantly, when you yourself tell him that you are also ready, then you can act. Daryl has some experience. Merle ordered Daryl... a prostitute for his twenty-first birthday and Daryl had to do it. I think he was the one feeling like a prostitute, not the woman. And maybe he's slept with random women from a bar a couple of times after drinking too much. But it was never anything special and not out of great desire. With you, it's different. Sex with you is his way of showing you love in a new way. Either way, he knows how it works, but you still need to guide him. Show him how you like it and help him the first few times. Daryl is a quick learner, especially if you help him. So pretty soon he'll memorize all the right places and positions to make you feel good as hell, nothing less. Daryl will make sure that you feel good first.

• Your comfort is Daryl's absolute priority. Over the years, he will learn to compromise and give in when necessary. Daryl loves you unconditionally and is ready to be on his knees in front of you, this is what you have done to him with your love and tenderness. Daryl Dixon has become soft and fluffy around you. Just for you. Merle would call him a pansy and laugh, but Daryl doesn't care. Not anymore. You're all he cares about.

• You're his safe place. His home. His heart and soul belong to you, take care of it. And then Daryl Dixon will move mountains for you, you bet he will.

~ A cute little headcanon as a bonus: I honestly think the soundtrack of the relationship with Daryl, is the song: The Goo Goo Dolls - Iris.

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being in a secret relationship with the one and only Gojo Satoru.

Imagine sitting in a bar, colored light pointed everywhere as you silently stare at your surroundings. Casually taking a sip of your drink as you lean back on your seat, head bobbing up and down along the music. How boring.

"He's been staring at you ever since we came here." "Who?" You raise a brow but did not spare your friend a glance and proceeds to take another sip of your drink. It was sweet, alcoholic but sweet. "Gojo Satoru from business department, you know. That guy with white hair, blue eyes-" "And the one who always wears tinted glasses, right. Who wears that indoors and not to mention at midnight." You chuckle, setting your empty cup down before standing up. "Gotta go to the bathroom."

Imagine looking at the mirror, your own reflect staring at you as you turn your face to the side to take a good look at your features. Unlike the other day there your hood and glasses would hide away your face, it was one of those days where you feel like stepping out of your shell and have fun. Well, more like to pissed off your boyfriend that was surely waiting for you out of the door. Making sure you're presentable as you arrived, you take one last glance in the mirror before walking your way out in the bathroom.

"Hey there." There was your boyfriend in his fitted white shirt that was hugging his body so well his well toned body could be seen. "Why hello to you too, Gojo." You smile at him before walking past him, if only he didn't block you on your way back into your friend's table. "No baby, you ain't going anywhere." He said as he grab a hold of your wrist pulling you at the back as you just stare at him in amusement, looking around for a moment only to find his best friend, Suguru shaking his head at the scene of you two before looking away like it was none of his business.

"So?" You cross your arms, looking directly at his eyes underneath those tinded glasses he was wearing. Something you will never understand at the same time you do kind of appreciate it. Because you know as soon as he remove that, people would be all over him, going crazy at his baby blue eyes. "What please do I owe you?" "You told me you're going out for some fun, what are you doing here?" "Pfffff" "Why are you laughing?" "I think it's funny how much a lo- heh, how someone like you could meddle in my life like this."

Imagine the way he flinch under your watch, his jaw tense as his hand curl into a fist. "What?" You laugh, one hand reaching out to touch and trace his jaw. "Are you mad, Satoru?" You chuckle before your hand travel on the back of his head and tugging him down harshly so he was on the same level as you. At the same time, his other hand lean on the wall for support, his glasses on the tip of his nose on the verge of fallling. This time, he was glaring at you like crazy. "Remember this is your arrangement not mine and just like how you don't want me to meddle with yours, I advice you not to meddle with mine to or who knows what could possibly happen." You push him away, about to walk of but he just won't move.

Imagine it's not like you wanted this to happened. He was the one who wanted to keep your relationship a secret, the one who said you cannot meddle with each out in public. And to be honest it's not that you didn't see where he was coming from, you were just this normal person, one among the crowd in the campus. Living differently from him who lived so well off along side his buddies. He was the heir into the Gojo industries. And you, you're just you, someone who have nothing to lose, nothing to offer.

"Move." You repeat when he doesn't move, trapping you between him and the wall. "Satoru move, others are starting to look." You whispered, gripping on his close before taking a deep breathe and relax. You tap him twice in the chest, refusing an eye contact as you gently push him away. Going in this bar was definitely a bad idea. You shouldn't have come out of pettiness. "Satoru, your fiancée is about to get over here, move." As soon as he said that, you felt him when stiff before immediately pulling away from you. "Well talk later." "You're coming home with her, we have nothing to talk about." "(First name)-" "Come to think about it. It's about time." "What do you-" "I'm done being your secret, goodbye Satoru." "... wait-" "Satoru!"

Imagine without thinking too much about it, you walk back in your booth like nothing happened and immediately drown yourself with more drinks. It's not like you don't understand where he was coming from. You knew that he loves you. You knew that damn well that he was hurting too. But while he got the whole world around his palm, you only have him. You only have him yet you cannot even call him mine. You're tired. You love him but you're tired.

Imagine if you knew that loving him would hurt like this. You would have turn the other way around the first time you saw him. Loving him was a losing game. "Hey, thats enough."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

[wonyowonyo]

COURTSHIP (K. Minji X M! Reader)

Hello there wonyowonyo here! I'm back with another update :0 This one is one of the 3 requested oneshots I was talking about previously. As for the other 2, I'm still working on them so I hope you guys do wait for them! Idk when I'll finish it, since I'm starting get busy a bit, but I'll try to finish those requests! Anyways no more yapping, this one was abt 5.6k words! As always, I hope you guys enjoy this one! see yall later ^^

Y/N has always had a passion for basketball. As the star player of his high school team, the court is where you feel most alive. But lately, there’s been something — or rather, someone — distracting Y/N.

Minji.

Minji, with her bright smile and infectious energy, has been the topic of many of Y/N’s daydreams. She’s in his class, and while she’s friendly and approachable, she’s also incredibly dense when it comes to his feelings. Despite his best efforts, she just doesn’t seem to get it.

————————————————————

The gym was alive with energy as Ador High faced off against their rivals, Hanlim High. The bleachers were packed with students, teachers, and parents, all roaring with excitement. Banners waved, and the school band played spirited tunes to keep the energy high.

Y/N, the team's star player, stood tall at the center of the court, his eyes scanning the crowd. His teammates huddled around him, their faces a mix of determination and anticipation. Coach Kim gave them a final pep talk, emphasizing teamwork and focus.

"Remember, guys, we've trained hard for this, let’s win this and punch our way to the finals." Coach Kim said, clapping his hands for emphasis. "Stay sharp, watch your passes, and keep the pressure on. Y/N, you're our ace player. Lead us to victory."

Y/N nodded, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He lived for moments like these, the thrill of the game, the roar of the crowd. But today, something—or rather, someone—was distracting him.

As the referee blew the whistle to start the game, Y/N's eyes wandered to the stands. There, among the sea of faces, he spotted Minji. She was easy to find, her energetic presence like a beacon in the crowd. Her long hair was tied in a ponytail, and she wore the school's colors, waving a homemade sign that read, "Go Y/N! You're the best!"

Minji's smile was infectious, and Y/N felt a flutter in his chest. He quickly shook it off, reminding himself he had a game to win.

The tip-off was won by Ador High, and Y/N immediately took control of the ball. He moved with precision and grace, dribbling past defenders with ease. The crowd's cheers grew louder with each successful play.

"Y/N! Over here!" shouted his teammate, Jisoo, who was in a perfect position near the basket.

Y/N feinted left, sending his defender off balance, and passed the ball to Jisoo, who scored with a clean shot. The crowd erupted, and Y/N exchanged a quick high-five with Jisoo before getting back into position.

Among the cheering, Y/N's eyes kept drifting back to Minji. She was jumping up and down, excitement radiating from her. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Y/N found himself smiling despite the intensity of the game.

As the first quarter progressed, Y/N continued to shine, making key plays and scoring crucial points. Ador High were ahead, but Hanlim High were relentless, keeping the pressure on.

During a brief timeout, Y/N sat on the bench, gulping down water. His coach patted him on the back. "Great job out there, Y/N. Keep it up."

Y/N nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. His thoughts drifted back to Minji. He wondered if she had any idea how much her support meant to him. Probably not, he mused, given how dense she could be about these things.

The game resumed, and Y/N's focus sharpened. He executed a flawless crossover, leaving his defender in the dust, and drove towards the basket. As he leaped for a layup, two defenders swooped in, trying to stop his attack.

The ball sailed through the hoop, and the crowd roared. Y/N landed gracefully as he caught a glimpse of Minji in the stands, her eyes wide with admiration. His heart pounded not just from the exertion but from the thrill of seeing Minji's reaction.

At halftime, Ador High led by a slim margin. The team gathered in the locker room, strategizing for the second half. Y/N's mind, however, was partially elsewhere. He couldn't help but think about Minji, her infectious energy, and the way she made his heart race.

"Y/N, you good?" asked Jisoo, noticing his friend's distraction.

"Yeah, just thinking about the game," Y/N replied, though his thoughts were more about Minji than the game plan.

Back on the court for the second half, Y/N refocused his efforts. Hanlim High were playing more aggressively, and the game became a fierce battle of skill and endurance. Y/N's leadership and skill were pivotal in maintaining their lead.

With the final minutes ticking down, the score was tied. The tension in the gym was palpable. Y/N knew this was it—the moment to seal their victory. He dribbled past two defenders, his eyes locked on the basket.

"Y/N! You can do it!" Minji's voice cut through the noise, loud and clear.

Spurred on by her encouragement, Y/N made his move. He executed a perfect spin and launched the ball towards the basket. The gym fell silent for a breathless moment as the ball sailed through the air.

Swish.

The buzzer sounded, and the crowd erupted in deafening cheers. Ador High had won. Y/N's teammates mobbed him, lifting him onto their shoulders. Amid the celebration, Y/N's eyes found Minji's. She was clapping and cheering, her face beaming with pride.

As he was carried off the court, Y/N couldn't help but think that this victory was not just for 

the team, but for Minji. Her support had fueled his determination and made the win even sweeter.

————————————————————

After the game, Y/N was in high spirits. Ador High had won, and he was determined to use the victory high to confess his feelings to Minji. He found her waiting outside the locker room, her smile brighter than the gym lights.

"Hey, Minji! Thanks for coming to the game," Y/N said, trying to keep his cool.

"Of course! You're amazing out there, Y/N!" Minji replied, her eyes sparkling.

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I—"

Just then, a teammate interrupted, slapping Y/N on the back. "Great game, man! We're heading to the diner to celebrate. You in?"

Y/N shot his teammate a frustrated look but managed a smile. "Yeah, I'll be there in a bit."

Minji, completely missing Y/N's attempt at a confession, clapped her hands. "Ooh, can I come too?"

Y/N sighed inwardly but couldn't say no to her. "Sure, why not?"

————————————————————

At the local diner, the basketball team was loud and boisterous, celebrating their recent win. The energy was infectious, and even the usually reserved Y/N found himself laughing along with his teammates. But amidst the chaos, he couldn't take his eyes off Minji, who was engrossed in conversation with their friends, a milkshake in her hand.

Y/N decided it was now or never. He needed a moment alone with her. "Hey, Minji, can we talk?" he asked, trying to catch her attention.

Minji looked up, her face smeared with whipped cream. "Sure, Y/N! What's up?"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "You, uh, have a little something on your face."

Minji wiped her face with a napkin and smiled brightly. "Thanks! So, what did you want to talk about?"

Taking a deep breath, Y/N began, "Minji, I really—"

Before he could finish, a waiter tripped, sending a tray of drinks flying. Instinctively, Y/N pulled Minji out of the way, and they ended up in a tangled heap on the floor, laughing.

"Wow, Y/N, you're like a superhero!" Minji giggled, completely oblivious to the romantic tension.

Y/N sighed, thinking to himself, How can someone be so dense?

As they got up, Minji dusted herself off. "Thanks for saving me, Y/N. That was close!"

"No problem," Y/N replied, trying to hide his frustration. "Uh, so, about what I wanted to say—"

"Hey, Y/N! Minji! Come join us for a group photo!" one of their teammates called out, waving a camera.

Minji grabbed Y/N's hand. "Let's go! It'll be fun!"

Y/N followed, his chance for confession slipping away once again. They squeezed into the group, and the camera flashed, capturing Minji's bright smile and Y/N's slightly forced one.

"Alright, on the count of three, say 'cheese'!" the teammate said.

"Cheese!" everyone chorused, and the camera clicked again.

As the evening wore on, Y/N found himself continually thwarted by interruptions. Every time he tried to steer Minji away for a private conversation, someone would call her over or something would happen to derail his attempts.

By the end of the night, Y/N was exhausted. As they walked out of the diner, Minji looked at him with a puzzled expression. "You seemed like you had something important to say earlier. What was it?"

Y/N gave a weary smile. "It's nothing, Minji. Really."

She patted his shoulder. "Well, if it's important, you'll tell me eventually. Right?"

"Yeah," Y/N said, feeling a twinge of frustration. "Eventually."

————————————————————

Determined to make his feelings clear, Y/N invited Minji to study together in the library. He thought the quiet atmosphere would be perfect for a heart-to-heart.

"Minji, there's something important I need to tell you," Y/N began, his palms sweaty as he fidgeted with his notes.

Minji looked up from her book, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I—"

Before he could continue, Minji gasped. "Oh no! I forgot to feed my goldfish this morning!" She jumped up, knocking over her chair in the process.

Y/N facepalmed. "Minji, your goldfish will be fine for a few more hours."

Minji sat back down, looking relieved. "You're right. Sorry, Y/N. What were you saying?"

Y/N shook his head, trying to keep his frustration in check. "I really, really—"

Just then, the librarian shushed them loudly, and they both burst out laughing, earning more stern looks from the librarian.

Minji covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. "We should probably keep it down, huh?"

"Yeah, probably," Y/N agreed, still chuckling.

They returned to their books, and Y/N tried to focus on his studies, but his mind kept drifting back to what he wanted to say. After a few minutes of silence, he decided to try again.

"Minji, I—"

This time, Minji's phone buzzed loudly. She quickly grabbed it, glancing at the screen. "Oh, it's my mom. She wants to know if I need a ride home."

Y/N's shoulders slumped. "Do you?"

Minji shook her head. "Nah, I'll walk. It's a nice day out."

"Okay." Y/N took another deep breath. "Minji, I—"

The librarian appeared out of nowhere, glaring at them. "If you two can't keep it down, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Sorry," they both mumbled, trying not to laugh.

Once the librarian had gone, Minji turned to Y/N. "It's really hard to have a conversation here, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," Y/N admitted, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement.

"Maybe we can talk later? After we finish studying?" Minji suggested.

"Sure," Y/N agreed, hoping that later would bring fewer interruptions.

During their “study” session, Y/N was determined to finally get his message across. Instead of actually studying, Y/N was racking his brain for ideas to confess his feelings to Minji. After a minute of brainstorming, he decided to write Minji a letter, hoping that putting his feelings into words would make things clearer. He spent hours crafting the perfect confession, pouring his heart onto the page. He tried to be sneaky as possible, trying to avoid the attention of the laser-focused Minji who’s diligently studying just in front of him.

After spending hours on the library, the pair decided to finally call it quits, as they both left the school premise to walk home. Y/N tried to act as natural as possible as he walked beside Minji who was busy sightseeing. Pushing down his nervousness and finally deciding to make his move, Y/N cleared his throat to get the attention of Minji. 

“H-hey, here. Read this.” Just as he was about to hand the letter to Minji, a strong gust of wind blew it out of his hand. Y/N watched in horror as the letter fluttered through the air and landed in a puddle.

Minji picked it up, her eyes widening as she read the waterlogged, smudged words. "Uh, Y/N? Why does this say you want to 'beef' with me?"

Y/N facepalmed, realizing the ink had smeared beyond recognition. "It was supposed to say I want to be with you'!"  He screamed internally.

Minji giggled, completely missing the point again. "Oh, Y/N, you're so funny! But I don't think fighting would be a good idea."

Y/N sighed, shaking his head but unable to stay mad at her. "Yeah, you're right. Fighting's not my style."

————————————————————

One weekend, Y/N asked Minji to go to the amusement park, hoping a fun day out would provide the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Minji exclaimed as they arrived at the park, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

They rode roller coasters, played games, and ate cotton candy. Y/N couldn't remember the last time he had so much fun, but he was still looking for the right moment to confess.

As they stood in line for the Ferris wheel, Y/N decided it was now or never. The view from the top, the gentle sway of the cabin—it all felt so romantic.

"Minji, I—" Y/N began, but Minji cut him off with a delighted squeal.

"Look, Y/N! We're almost at the front of the line! I can't wait to see the view from the top!" Minji exclaimed, completely missing his attempt at a confession.

Y/N sighed inwardly but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. One of these days, she'll understand.

They climbed into the Ferris wheel cabin, and as it slowly ascended, Y/N's heart pounded. He looked over at Minji, who was gazing out at the park below with wide eyes.

"It's so beautiful," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N agreed, though he was looking at her rather than the view.

As they reached the top, Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I—"

Minji turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "Yes?"

Y/N felt his courage falter. "I—really like this view."

Minji laughed. "Me too! It's amazing up here."

Y/N sighed, kicking himself for chickening out. He needed to find the right moment, but it seemed like every time he tried, something got in the way.

After the Ferris wheel, they wandered around the park, playing more games and enjoying the various attractions. As the sun began to set, they found themselves at a quiet spot near the park's lake.

"Minji, there's something I need to tell you," Y/N said, his heart pounding once again.

Minji looked at him, her expression serious for once. "What is it, Y/N?"

Just as Y/N was about to speak, a group of kids ran by, laughing and shouting, interrupting the moment.

Y/N groaned inwardly. "Never mind. It's not important."

Minji frowned. "Are you sure? It seemed important."

Y/N forced a smile. "Yeah, it's fine. Let's just enjoy the rest of the day."

Minji nodded, though she still looked concerned. "Okay, if you say so."

The annual school festival was a big event, and Y/N saw it as another opportunity to get closer to Minji. They wandered through the various stalls, played games, and enjoyed the performances. Minji's laughter was infectious, and Y/N found himself falling for her even more.

"Let's try the ring toss!" Minji suggested, dragging Y/N over to a game booth.

"Alright, but I'm warning you, I'm not very good at this," Y/N said with a grin.

Minji laughed. "That's okay! It's just for fun."

They each took turns tossing rings, and Minji managed to win a small stuffed bear. She handed it to Y/N with a smile. "Here, this is for you."

Y/N accepted the bear, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Thanks, Minji."

As the day went on, they continued to enjoy the festival together. Y/N couldn't help but notice how happy Minji seemed, and it made him even more determined to tell her how he felt.

At the end of the day, there was a fireworks display. Y/N and Minji found a spot on the school rooftop to watch. The sky lit up with brilliant colors, and Y/N felt the perfect moment had arrived.

"Minji, there's something I've been wanting to tell you," Y/N said, turning to face her, his heart pounding in his chest.

Minji looked at him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I really—"

Minji suddenly gasped, cutting him off. "Oh my gosh, Y/N! Are you going to tell me that you’ll finally teach me basketball for my P.E class?!"

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off. "Uh... what?"

Minji nodded enthusiastically. "I knew it! You kept trying to deny my request, but in the end you still have a soft spot for me huh, Y/N!"

Y/N stared at her, dumbfounded. "I was actually busy back then, Minji. But that's not what I—"

"Shhh, the fireworks are starting!" Minji exclaimed, turning her attention back to the sky.

Y/N sighed, shaking his head as he stared at the night sky. One of these days, she'll understand. Hopefully.

As the fireworks exploded overhead, Y/N felt a mix of frustration and hope. He knew he would eventually get through to Minji, but for now, he would just enjoy the moment with her.

————————————————————

That night, after yet another failed attempt to confess his feelings, Y/N lay in bed, feeling both elated and exasperated. He replayed all the missed opportunities in his head, each one more ridiculous than the last.

First, there was the locker room interruption. Then, the diner disaster. The study session? Don’t even get him started. The amusement park and the school festival were supposed to be perfect, but of course, things had to go hilariously wrong.

He grabbed his pillow and screamed into it, letting out all his pent-up frustration. "Why, Minji? Why are you so dense?!" he muttered dramatically, throwing his hands in the air.

Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Minji:

Minji: Hey Y/N, I just realized... were you trying to tell me something important today?

Y/N stared at his phone, his mouth agape. He couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He quickly typed back:

Y/N: Yes, Minji. Yes, I was.

Minji: LOL! I'm such a dummy. But I’m glad you're my friend! Anyways, see you tomorrow at the local park 😊

Y/N sighed, shaking his head but smiling. "Better late than never," he muttered, feeling the weight of all those missed opportunities lift off his shoulders.

————————————————————

The next day, true to her word, Minji showed up at the local basketball court, eager to learn. Y/N couldn't help but admire her enthusiasm, even if she was a bit clumsy with the ball.

"Okay, first you need to dribble like this," Y/N demonstrated, bouncing the ball with ease.

Minji tried to mimic him but ended up fumbling the ball. She laughed, a sound that always made Y/N's heart melt. "This is harder than it looks!"

Y/N moved closer, gently guiding her hands. "Here, let me help you."

He stood behind her, his hands over hers, guiding her movements. As they practiced, Y/N realized that Minji's determination was part of her charm. Her cheerful personality and genuine innocence made every moment with her feel like an adventure. However, she can be dense as a mountain when it comes to feelings.

"Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it," Y/N encouraged, smiling.

Minji pouted playfully. "I hope so. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of everyone."

"You won't," Y/N assured her. "You're doing great."

As the afternoon went on, Minji's skills slowly improved. She laughed and stumbled, but she never gave up. Her persistence reminded Y/N of why he cared for her so much. She was a beacon of positivity in his life, always looking at the bright side.

They took a break, sitting on the court and sipping water. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the gym.

"Thank you for teaching me, Y/N," Minji said, her eyes sincere. "It means a lot."

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. "Anytime, Minji. I'm glad we can spend time together like this."

Minji beamed. "Me too."

As they sat there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, Y/N realized that these moments, both on and off the court, were the ones he would cherish forever. It wasn't just about the game; it was about the people who made it meaningful. And Minji was at the heart of it all.

————————————————————

The championship game was the biggest event of the year. The gym was packed with students, teachers, and parents, all cheering for Ador High. The bleachers were a sea of orange and black, with banners and posters waving enthusiastically in the air. The scent of popcorn and excitement filled the space, creating an electric atmosphere.

Y/N was more focused than ever, but knowing Minji was in the crowd cheering for him made his heart pound. He glanced up and saw her, her smile a beacon of encouragement. He took a deep breath and joined his teammates in their final huddle.

"Alright, guys," the coach said, his voice steady and calm. "This is our moment. Play smart, play hard, and remember, we've got each other's backs."

The game began with a flurry of activity. The opposing team, Seoul High, were formidable, their defense tight and their offense relentless. Y/N dodged and weaved, his muscles straining with every pass, every pivot. The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished wood floor and the rhythmic pounding of the basketball echoed through the gym.

As the first quarter progressed, both teams fought fiercely for the lead. Y/N executed a perfect layup, drawing cheers from the crowd. But Seoul High quickly countered with a three-pointer, keeping the score neck and neck.

During a timeout, Y/N wiped the sweat from his brow and listened as the coach outlined their strategy. "Stay sharp, and keep the pressure on. Y/N, you'll be our key player in the final minutes. Trust your instincts."

Back on the court, Y/N felt the weight of the game on his shoulders. He knew the clock was ticking down, and the pressure was mounting. With only two minutes left, the score was tied. Ador High fought for every inch, their determination unwavering.

The game was intense. Ador High and Seoul High were evenly matched, each team responding to the other’s moves with agility and precision. The ball changed hands rapidly, with neither side able to secure a solid lead.

With a minute left in the fourth quarter, Ador High were down by two points. Y/N knew it was now or never. He stole the ball from an opposing player and sprinted down the court. The crowd's roar was deafening. He passed the ball to his teammate, who quickly passed it back to him.

Y/N was at the three-point line when he saw an opening. He darted past his defender and charged toward the basket. Seoul High' center, a towering player, tried to block him, but Y/N was faster. He jumped, the world around him slowing down. With all his might, he slammed the ball into the hoop.

The gym exploded with cheers. Ador High were now up by one point. The slam dunk had turned the tide of the game, and Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline and pride.

With only seconds left on the clock, Seoul High scrambled to regain control. But Ador High' defense was impenetrable. Y/N stole the ball again, blitzing his way to the opponent's side of the court. However, a defender was just right behind him, slowly catching up to lock him down. Entering the paint, Y/N immediately sprung into the air while gripping the ball with all his might. Everyone watched, as Y/N stayed in the air before slamming the ball right onto the hoop just as the final buzzer sounded.

Ador High had won the championship, thanks to Y/N’s back to back dunk. His teammates lifted him onto their shoulders, the victory a culmination of their hard work and dedication.

Amid the celebration, Y/N spotted Minji running towards him. Her face was radiant with pride, her eyes shining. She threw her arms around him, her joy palpable.

"You're amazing, Y/N! We won!" Minji exclaimed, her smile brighter than ever.

Y/N hugged her back, his heart full. "Thanks, Minji. I couldn't have done it without you."

Minji pulled back, looking confused. "Me? But all I did was cheer."

Y/N laughed, a sound of pure happiness. "And that made all the difference."

As the team celebrated their victory, Y/N knew this was a moment he would cherish forever. The roar of the crowd, the embrace of his friends and family, and Minji's unwavering support. This was more than a game; it was a testament to teamwork, perseverance, and the power of believing in oneself.

After the initial celebration, the team gathered in the locker room, their spirits high. The coach gave a rousing speech, praising everyone's effort and determination. Y/N's teammates clapped him on the back, congratulating him on his game-winning shot.

"Man, you were on fire out there!" one teammate exclaimed.

"Yeah, you really carried us in the final minutes," another added.

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie and pride.

As they changed out of their uniforms, Y/N couldn't help but think about Minji. He had to find the right moment to finally tell her how he felt. He glanced at his phone and saw a text from her:

Minji: Congrats, Y/N! You were incredible! 😊

Y/N replied: Thanks, Minji. Can we meet outside? I need to talk to you.

Minji: Sure! Be there in a sec.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. As he walked out of the locker room, he saw Minji waiting for him, her smile as bright as ever.

"Hey, Y/N! What's up?" she asked cheerfully.

Y/N's heart raced. "Minji, there's something important I need to tell you. I've been trying to say it for a while now, but things keep getting in the way."

Minji tilted her head, looking curious. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I—"

Just then, his teammate burst through the door, yelling, "Yo, Y/N! Coach wants you back inside for a team photo!"

Y/N groaned inwardly, feeling the frustration build up again. "Okay, I'll be right there." He turns and smiled at his teammate, biting the insides of his cheeks. His eyes squinted as he telepathically communicated with his teammate. ‘Boy you better thank the gods above we are living in a civilized society’.

The poor teammate, jolted as he awkwardly exits himself back to the team.

Minji giggled. "I'll wait here. Don't keep me waiting too long!"

Y/N nodded, feeling both exasperated and amused. One of these days, he'd get his chance.

After the game, Y/N and Minji found a quiet spot outside the gym. The moonlight cast a soft glow over them, and Y/N knew it was the perfect moment.

"Minji, I have something to tell you," Y/N said, his voice steady.

Minji looked at him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I like you. A lot. More than just a friend."

Minji's face lit up with realization. "Oh! You mean like more than my love for fried chicken?"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Minji. Much more than that."

Minji's face slowly lit up with realization. "Oh, I get it! You want to join the culinary club to learn how to make fried chicken, don't you?"

Y/N's jaw dropped. "W-What? No! That's not what I meant!"

Minji giggled, completely missing the point. "Oh, Y/N! You're so funny. But sure, I'll help you join the culinary club if that's what you want!"

Y/N sighed deeply, shaking his head but unable to stay mad at her. "Thanks, Minji. You're the best." Giving her a weakened thumbs up and smile.

As he walked home alone, he couldn't help but just laugh at the misunderstanding. Minji's innocence and humor were part of what he loved about her, even if it made things a bit more complicated. But he’s lying if the constant failures he’s facing aren't affecting him. 

“Let’s not give up yet, we still have plenty more chances!” He motivates himself, reassuring his feelings and his unwavering will. 

He proceeded to run the remaining kilometer on his way home.

In the following days, Y/N found himself in another series of dense moments with Minji that only added to his growing frustration and affection:

They were in the library, supposedly studying for their upcoming exams. Minji was intensely focused on her notes, her brows furrowed in concentration. Y/N, however, was distracted by her presence.

"Minji," he whispered, trying to be subtle.

"Hmm?" She looked up, her expression softening.

"I wanted to ask you something," he began, his heart racing.

"Sure, what is it?" she asked, leaning in closer.

"Do you ever think about..." he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his question.

"Think about what?" she prompted, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Um, about us, you know, being more than friends?" he finally managed to say.

Minji's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, you mean like study buddies? I'd love that! We can help each other with all our subjects!"

Y/N sighed inwardly, trying to keep his smile. "Yeah, study buddies. That's exactly what I meant."

A few days later, they were in the cafeteria, enjoying lunch together. Y/N decided to try again.

"Minji, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," he said, gathering his courage.

"What's that, Y/N?" she asked, looking up from her food.

"I really like you, Minji. I mean, I really like you," he said, hoping she would understand this time.

Minji's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, I like you too, Y/N! You're one of my best friends."

Y/N felt a pang of disappointment but managed to keep his composure. "Thanks, Minji. You're one of my best friends too."

————————————————————

After another failed attempt to confess his feelings, Y/N decided to make one last grand gesture. He arranged a surprise for Minji on the rooftop of their school, a place they both loved for its breathtaking view of the city.

Y/N decorated the rooftop with fairy lights, creating a magical ambiance under the night sky. He set up a picnic blanket, complete with all of Minji’s favorite snacks. He took a deep breath, hoping this time everything would go smoothly.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the city, Y/N led Minji to the rooftop, covering her eyes with his hands.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Minji giggled, clearly excited.

"Just trust me," Y/N said, guiding her carefully. "And... open your eyes!"

Minji gasped, her eyes wide with wonder. "Oh my gosh, Y/N! This is beautiful!"

Y/N smiled, feeling a bit more confident. "I wanted to do something special for you, Minji."

They sat down together, enjoying the view and the snacks. As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle, Y/N knew it was now or never.

"Minji," he began, his voice steady. "There's something I've been trying to tell you for a long time."

Minji looked at him, her eyes full of curiosity and warmth. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Minji, I love you. I've loved you for so long, and I can't keep it to myself anymore. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I want to be more than just friends. I want to be with you."

Minji's eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling. "Oh, Y/N, I love you too! I can't believe it took us this long to say it out loud!"

Y/N felt a wave of relief and joy wash over him. "So, does this mean...?"

"Yes, Y/N," Minji said, leaning in closer. "It means we're more than friends now."

Y/N pulled her into a tight embrace, his heart soaring. "I'm so glad you feel the same way, Minji."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for. All the misunderstandings and dense moments had led them to this point, and it was worth every second.

The rooftop seemed to glow with a newfound warmth, and Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. He had finally confessed his feelings, and Minji had reciprocated. It was the start of a beautiful new chapter in their lives.

————————————————————

The next day at school, Y/N and Minji walked hand-in-hand, their friends teasing them playfully.

"Finally, you two figured it out!" one friend joked.

"Yeah, it only took a million failed attempts," another added with a laugh.

Minji giggled, squeezing Y/N's hand. "I guess I'm not the only one who's dense."

Y/N grinned, feeling happier than ever. "Nope, we're a perfect match."

Reaching the hallway, they suddenly bumped into the Culinary Club president.

"Hey, Y/N! Minji said you wanted to join the Culinary Club to learn how to make fried chicken?" the president asked, grinning.

Y/N's face turned bright red as Minji burst into laughter. "Oh, Y/N! You really should have seen your face!"

Y/N groaned, feeling both embarrassed and amused. "Minji, I swear, that was not what I meant!"

Minji squeezed his hand, her laughter infectious. "I know, Y/N. But hey, maybe we can still join and make some delicious fried chicken together!"

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, why not? As long as we're together."

As they walked to their next class, Minji suddenly stopped. "Oh no! I forgot to feed my goldfish again!"

Y/N laughed, shaking his head. "Don't worry, Minji. I'll help you with that too."

And so, their story continued, filled with basketball, laughter, love, and a whole lot of heart.

[thesongoficeandfir3]

The burning mill, the family affair, and the forbidden love

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Fem!Bracken!reader

A/n: Based on the show version of the battle of the burning mill p.s currently working on part 2 of my first story 😋

Warnings: heavy angst, gore, descriptions of wounds, blood, smut is alluded but not described. Lmk if I missed anything

The sound of swords being clashed and men crying out in pain filled the air of the area that joint Bracken and Blackwood’s land. Blood dripped down from the tip of Benjicot's long sword as he looked at the carnage around him, his breathing rapid and ragged. What had started as a small dispute between the Brackens and Blackwoods turned into a full out bloodbath.

He had lost count of the number of Bracken men he had killed. His sword arm ached and trembled while his entire body felt like it was on fire. His body was begging for a moments rest, but Benjicot refused to give into his bodies wishes. He only had one thing and one thing alone on his mind and that was to find you.

As Benjicot struggled and pushed his way across the field he passed many dead or dying men, many of them being his own. They were the same men he knew since he was a boy. He grew up with them, drank with them , laughed with them… his heart ached at the sight, but still he wouldn’t stop moving. He couldn’t stop because not being able to get to you first ached his heart even more.

Benjicot grunted as a sharp, excruciating pain shot through his leg, taking him down. He looked down and saw the leg wound he had sustained earlier had gotten severely worse. The first few moments he got it, Benjicot believed it to be nothing more than a small cut, but now it was bleeding profusely from a deep gash. This along with many other fatal injuries Benjicot could already label himself a deadman. Despite that however….despite the pain he still pushed himself up, stabbing his sword into the wet soil for support and kept going forward. No matter what he was going to get to you even if it killed him.

He knew you were here and fighting. Being the only daughter in your family and growing up with five older brothers you had learned to use a sword and fight.

Benjicot never liked it, not because he didn’t believe a woman should hold a sword but because he was terrified of a day like this one.

He still remembers that night as if it was yesterday. It had been a week since you two finally confessed your feelings for one another despite being from rival houses. It was late at night and you two were deep in the forest far away from both of your families lands. Your naked bodies intertwined laying on a blanket on the forest floor, coming down from your high.

You broke the comfortable silence by saying whenever the day came you’d be fighting with your family, you’d be fighting as a Bracken. Though you loved Benjicot you couldn’t come to terms with the thought of slaying your own family. You knew the moment was not the best time to say something like that, but you had been wanting to say that the moment you realized you loved Benjicot. You wanted to tell him sooner rather than later so it wouldn’t feel like a betrayal. Benjicot didn’t get upset when you said it, for he felt the same he couldn’t fathom slaying his own blood.

You both knew deep down a war between your houses was inevitable. It was not a matter of if, but when.

Despite knowing that however, ever since that day you two never spoke about your family feud when together, as if not speaking on the matter would have prevented the inevitable.

When he finally spots you in the distance, he sees you fighting off a Blackwood man. You would’ve been dead a long time ago since the man was a bull compared to you, but his injuries were far worse than yours. This caused some of his movements to be sloppy and predictable. At this point the Blackwood man had looked like a walking corpse, but he was content on taking you down. It seems he wished for the satisfaction for taking down one more Bracken before the Stranger came for him.

Though he was in worse shape than you, he still managed to stab you in your stomach twice, missing your vital organs by a hair, but still driving the sword deep enough. He raised his sword again ready to go for the final blow. In the moment It seemed like he would have gotten his death wish when suddenly a Bracken man charged towards the Blackwood man, tackling him and causing them both to fall into the river with a large and loud splash. The murky river water slowly turned into a deep shade of crimson as the two men sank to the bottom from their heavy armor.

Once your attacker was gone, your knees buckled and you fell to the ground clutching your wounded stomach. The feeling was warm and sticky and the strong scent of iron filled your nose. Your body trembled and your breathing became heavy. You can feel your heart race quickens as your body desperately attempts to produce more blood than what was being lost rapidly.

You looked down to see how bad your wounds were and was met with the blood staining the gold color of your clothes a darker hue. Your house sigil, the horse, unrecognizable as the blood quickly continues to spread. Knowing there was no hope for you, you allow yourself to lay flat on the ground, staring up at the sky as you wait for death to overcome you.

Benjicot watched as your opponent was struck down before you slumped to the ground. His body had by far reached its limits, but seeing you in that state gave him a wave of adrenaline. He quickly limped as best he could towards you, pushing through the pain of his injury, desperate to reach you.

When he finally reached you, he could see like him you had sustained some injuries all over your body, but it was nothing compared to your stomach wounds. He dropped down to his knees, gently putting his trembling hand on your stomach wound. He presses down on the wound to slow the bleeding, but it attempts were futile as it seemed the blood was coming out even faster.

Benjicot was slowly starting to weaken, all the adrenaline starting to wear off. His wounds were bleeding heavily as well, the blood from it mixing with yours. Still he refused to take his hand off your wound despite his weakening state.

“Ben.” you choked out, your eyelids becoming heavy as you looked up at him, trying to get his attention.

He didn’t look at you, too focused on your wound. It was obvious that neither of you were going to survive, but he still stubbornly tried to stop the bleeding. He desperately wanted if any of you, it be you who lived to see another day.

“Please Ben,” your hand reached his on your stomach weakly trying to pry them off. “I’m so cold,” you say looking up at him through teary eyes, your once beautiful s/c slowly turning pale. “Please just hold me I’m so cold you.” You whimpered out trying your best convince him to stop saving you. You didn’t want either of your final moments wasting time on a lost cause. He finally looked at you, his green eyes filled with sadness as he slowly removed his hand from your wound.

He pulled his cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around you tightly, trying to give you the warmth your body was no longer able to provide for you. Despite his own pain, he carefully lifted you into his lap and cradled you against his chest, holding you as tightly as he could, his arms wrapping around you as though he could protect you from death itself.

He held you closely, doing his best to transfer his body heat to you to keep you warm. He buried his face in your hair, his breathing ragged and labored. He could feel his strength slowly slipping away, but he didn’t let go of you. Using what little strength he had left, he used it to hold you in a tight warm embrace to ensure you he was there.

As Benjicot holds you familiarity surges through you. You suddenly remember all those cold nights where you found comfort, warmth and safety in his arms and now you realize you’ll never experience that again.

“Ben…..I don’t want to leave you- please I don’t want to go.” Tears streamed down your face, your body so weak you couldn’t even lift your head to look at him as you spoke.

He could hear the fear and despair in your voice, mirroring the same feelings within himself. He wanted to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but he knew it would be a lie. Instead, he just tightened his grip on you, pressing you closer against his chest.

"I’m here," he managed to gasp out, his voice strained. "I’m not leaving you, I promise. He says gently trying to calm you. He could not save you from death, but he could at least promise you won’t be going into it alone.

“I love you Ben… I love you so much.”

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice filled with love and pain. "More than anything."

There were still a few standing survivors from both sides of your family struggling against one another, despite more than half of the field being filled with Blackwood and Bracken corpse. The sound was muffled but you still heard it and you remember why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“I wish our families-”

"I don’t care about our families,” he cut you off. “All that matters is that we’re together. You’re the only thing that matters."

As Benjicot says that you allow yourself to completely relax. He was right, being with him in this moment was the only thing that mattered. The generational feud in your families did not.

He then felt your body grow limp in his arms, your final breath leaving your lips. He pressed a long and gentle kiss on your forehead as tears began streaming down his cheeks. He felt himself grow weaker, his own strength slowly slipping away. With one final, laboured breath, he whispered your name, his voice hoarse and trembling, before his grip on you loosened and he too was gone. The last thing he saw was your beautiful face, peaceful in death.

The two of you remained in each others arms, your bodies lifeless in the aftermath of the battle. Despite the chaos and carnage around you, there was a sense of peace in your final moments together.

It was an odd sight the lord and lady of the rivaling houses, the houses that used the Targaryen conflict just to slay one another, finding peace in each other’s arms. Your deaths, although tragic, would be a testament to the indomitable power of love that can transcend even from the most deep seated of hatred.