#PROBABLY FOR THE BEST so that this is more a Recovery Chapter for last chapter lmfao

[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

“The fact that she’s military is the only thing saving her ass right now.”

Ellie kept her head bowed down low, her hands clasped in between her legs as she hunched over in the seat, making herself as small as possible. Her knuckles were bruised and scrapped to hell, the blood already dried and crusted. Most of the blood wasn’t hers, and if she thought about that fact for too long she’d probably have an episode. Either that or she’d throw up all over the sheriff’s office.

“Boss, I really appreciate you calling me instead of booking her. You have to understand that she’s in therapy and is on a shit ton of medications. Is the guy gonna press charges. . . ?” Hearing her best friend kiss up to his boss on her behalf had the vein in her forehead twitching.

“Technically the boy was shoplifting, so I doubt he’s gonna go forward with any sort’a legal action. I know she was trying to help, but she used excessive force. Beat the poor kid black and blue. . . I mean-” The officer lowered his voice, and Ellie could hear Jesse’s chair creak as he leaned forward. “His damn tooth was knocked out.” The sheriff whispered.

She closed her eyes tight, running a shaky hand over her face. She should own up to all of this and apologize. This was her fault, so why. . . why was she just sitting there? It was like she was glued to the chair, unable to move her head up. She couldn’t look Jesse in the eye. She was ashamed of herself.

Because she smelled like greasy, unwashed hair and cigarettes, was wearing the same pair of jeans she’d worn yesterday when he invited her over to his and Dina’s for dinner, and now he was having to pick her up at the police station for starting a fight.

A pack of beer. That’s what she’d pummeled the boy over.

He couldn’t have even been her age. He looked freshly legal, and something in her fucked up mind told her that it was okay to hurt him like that. The second that the nice elderly woman behind the counter had started screaming about a man stealing from her, some sort of switch had been flipped in her brain. Loud noises always made her feel anxious, but screaming like that? She couldn’t have stopped the meltdown even if she’d wanted to. So she dropped what she was holding and ran after him. What happened afterwards was. . . well, it was a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her temples, trying hard to remember.

Her therapist called them “PTSD episodes”. Random things triggered a breakdown: loud noises, gunshots, screams, flashes of light. . . they were unavoidable. She’d lose total track of time when it happened. One second the door to Ellie’s walk-in closet was closing behind her, plummeting her in darkness, and the next she’d be laying on her back in the middle of her room, balling her eyes out. Living like this was hell, but no matter how many mind-numbing pills she was prescribed, she still found it nearly impossible to function.

She didn’t want to scare her loved ones. When Joel called she just. . . lied. It made her feel dirty. It was wrong and she knew that, but it was better than the alternative. Being a liar was better than being a broken failure.

“Yeah, I’m doing great. My therapist is on to something, I think.”

“Come on, rambo. Let’s get you to bed.” Jesse placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing better than to pat her on the back like he used to.

Ellie knew it hurt him to see her flinch under his touch. She swallowed back bile and stood up, practically having to drag herself out of the officers office. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t thank him or- or anything.

But then he did that thing. . . he thanked Ellie.

Ellie didn’t give a shit about the military discounts or the cheaper car insurance- she got a nice cushy check from the military every month just for breathing. She didn’t want pity or thanks simply because she didn’t deserve it.

“Thank you for your service, Williams.” The sheriff’s voice reminded her of Joel’s. For some reason that made it hurt even worse.

Still, her muscles tightened, and she worked hard to straighten her posture.

“It was my privilege.” It was a well rehearsed response. It didn’t even sound like her voice when she had said it though, and it scared her.

As she followed Jesse out to his truck, she tried to ascertain whether she was just beginning to disassociate or whether or not this was all just another strange side effect from her meds.

She blinked and suddenly she was already situated in the car, Jesse on the main road to get the both of them back home. He had the radio turned down to just a hum, his sleepy eyes glued to the road in front of him. The clock on his dashboard told her that it wasn’t just “late” anymore, but “morning” now. Ellie sat up suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to map out exactly how many minutes she had just lost.

“Fuck.” She breathed, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She needed to call her therapist sometime today. She needed. . . She needed a lower dose of medication. There’s no way any of this was normal.

“Have you eaten?” Jesse asked, turning his head to finally look at her.

Ellie wished that he felt inconvenienced by her. Anger would be better than pity, but the look in his eyes was anything but annoyance. Jesse looked like he was close to tears. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and Ellie felt called to reach her hand out and place it on his shoulder. She wasn’t a very touchy person these days (and it’s not like she was to begin with), but he needed it.

“Not in a couple of hours.” Ellie answered him, letting her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He nodded and cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. When Ellie dropped her hand and turned to look out the passenger side window, she could have sworn he lifted his arm to hurriedly wipe at his eyes. She couldn’t be sure though. . . seeing as she was now legally blind in her left eye. The wonky eye and the thin scar that started in the middle of her forehead and ended on her brow bone were the only physical reminders that she had of the explosion.

It seemed so miniscule compared to all of the shit that was going on in her head. She’d much rather have a destroyed body than a brain that didn’t work right anymore.

“How about you sleep in the guest bedroom? Dina’s probably worried sick about the both of us. Let’s. . . let’s spend the day together. Yeah?” It sounded like he was pleading with her.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence. No matter how much of a burden she saw herself as, the thought of going home right now frightened her. Ellie was terrified that she was going to end up all alone in this world, but she couldn’t stop pushing everyone away. It’s almost as if. . . she knew that she was bound to self-destruct at some point. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

“She’s going to kill me.” Ellie groaned out, dramatically banging her head against the headrest.

Jesse’s lips twitched up into a smile, but he was quick to try and mask it. “Nah. Dina? Mad at you for getting arrested at one thirty in the morning? No way.” His tone was sarcastic, and Ellie appreciated the fact that Jesse could still joke under circumstances like this. It made things feel almost normal. Almost.

Ellie winced, dragging a battered and bruised hand over her face. She had no idea why she’d been at the gas station picking up a bag of pretzels and a pack of ding-dongs that late at night. A documentary about the recently discovered Exo-planet was on the Discovery channel, and she’d actually worked up an appetite after it was over. She missed acting her age. Maybe that’s why she ended up getting into her Jeep. She was tired of feeling nostalgic and actually wanted to do something for herself. As minuscule as grabbing snacks from the gas station down the street was, it still felt out of the ordinary for her. Special.

Dina was sitting on the couch when the pair slunk into the house, walking on their tip toes in the hopes that the creaking wooden floors wouldn’t wake up JJ. Ellie froze in the entryway, green eyes wide as she took in the female’s crossed arms and death-glare. She was in trouble, which meant that Jesse was in trouble as well by association.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dina whisper-yelled, throwing her arm in the direction of the clock on the wall.

Ellie squinted her one good eye, noting that it was now four in the morning. She’d lost three hours. She should have been passed out on her prescribed sleeping pills by now, plagued by vivid nightmares. Instead she was intruding on her two best friends, and for what? ‘A pack of beer’, she reminded herself. A god damn pack of fuckin’ beer.

Ellie’s mouth went dry, her lips moving but no words escaping her. How many times had she apologized to Dina since she’d gotten home after the accident? Still, her best friend’s anger was better than Jesse’s pity. The sleeves of Ellie’s flannel tightened around her biceps as she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Dina’s posture as if to protect herself. She slipped a hand up, covering her neck anxiously.

“I’m getting better, D. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with my therapist and-” Ellie sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

What she was doing couldn’t be called living. Ellie was simply existing and not doing a very good job at it either. She was tired of being tired. She blinked her misty eyes, turning to face the kitchen. She refused to cry. Once she started she couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stop.

Jesse and Dina’s shoes were all neatly laid out by the front door and JJ’s baby bag was sitting on the dining room table. This was a family that she had just burdened. Her eyes snagged on JJ’s highchair, and then the guilt was building right back up in her chest.

Guilt and jealousy.

Ellie had once had hopes of starting her own family eventually. When did she lose her grasp on that? On her lifelong dreams and aspirations? She wanted to help people- save people- so when had she become the one that needed saving? The marines hadn’t ruined Ellie. Ellie had ruined Ellie.

“No, you’re not.” Dina said simply, her voice sounding thick with emotion. “Ellie, look at me.” Her voice was commanding despite her sadness.

Ellie’s eyes fell to the floor, but she turned her head to face Dina, green eyes flickering up to her face. Bottom lip quivering, brown eyes misty- Dina looked miserable.

“You’re not getting better.” She whispered to Ellie, shaking her head to drive the point home. It looked like the words physically hurt for her to say.

Every excuse that she could have given dissipated. Suddenly she felt naked, utterly exposed. Every nasty, jagged scar was on full display. How many times had she said that to the people that cared about her?

“I’m getting better.” “I actually feel a bit better today.” “You don’t have to worry about me. The meds are really working this time.” Ellie wasn’t sure when it happened but she had become a liar. A damn good one too. Dina was looking at her now though, really looking at her, and Ellie’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Ellie whispered to herself, moving her hands to cover her face.

Jesse stepped behind Ellie, wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A sob caught in Ellie’s chest and she strangled it before it could escape her. She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t let her shoulders sag, couldn’t allow herself to feel everything in front of her best friends.

“I called Joel,” Dina finally said, leaning against the back of the couch, her knuckles going white with how hard she gripped the leather. “And he bought you a plane ticket. You’re flying out tomorrow.”

“No,” Ellie was already shaking her head before Dina had even finished her sentence. “How could you do this?” She felt the betrayal like a slap in the face. Her lips parted, eyes wide in silent desperation.

Please let this be a nightmare.

Her hand desperately flew to her arm, giving it a sharp pinch. The floor didn’t fall out from under her. She didn’t sit up sweating in her tangled sheets. This was actually happening. Actually real.

“You’re flailing, Ellie. We thought that eventually you’d level out,” Dina tried, taking a few steps towards Ellie and her husband. “But you’re only getting worse.”

“I’m getting better.” The well rehearsed line was the only thing she could think to utter. She prayed that eventually she could convince herself of that too. If she said the words enough times then maybe, eventually, they would become her reality. Perhaps she could somehow manifest her recovery.

“When was the last time you ate a solid meal? You barely touched your plate the other night. And I know you aren’t eating the food that Jesse drops off for you.” Dina was pointing out her flaws as if she didn’t see them all herself.

A full stomach meant nausea.

“When was the last time you showered?” The dark haired girl questioned.

Showering meant closing herself up into a tight space. It meant getting naked- seeing her scars. Remembering what happened to her and the rest of her unit.

“We know how this will end, Ellie. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of my life for calling Joel. I refuse to lose you like this.” Dina’s voice quivered as she spoke, but her eyes hardened. She was resolute about her decision.

Jesse’s arms tightened around Ellie and suddenly they no longer felt like a comfort but a prison. She needed air. Needed to call Joel and apologize. Needed to tell him that she was fine. She was fine. She would be just fine.

“I can’t breathe.” Ellie managed to whisper out, knees buckling from underneath her. It felt like the world was finally swallowing her up whole.

She was a failure. She’d failed Jesse, Dina, JJ and Joel. Why couldn’t she just be normal again? Why couldn’t she just fucking breathe.

Jesse let go of Ellie as she began gasping for air, helping to sit her down on the cold hardwood floor. It felt like everything around her had slowed down to a crawl, but her mind- it had sped up to a breakneck pace. She couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t turn off the thoughts and the images and the feelings.

She’d killed her unit. It was her fault that they all died. They had all been taken home in body bags, and what had Ellie gotten? A fucking government issued check every month that she blew on booze and a Purple Heart that collected dust.

“D, get the medication that’s in the cabinet and a glass of water.” Jesse called out to his wife. It sounded like they were underwater. She was drowning.

“She’s ripping her fucking hair out, Jesse.” Dina called out in panic, rifling through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Her best friend gripped her wrists, forcing them back down to her sides. Strands of Auburn hair were tangled up between her clammy fingers.

JJ must have woken up because of the comotion. She could hear him crying from the other room. Screaming for his mother.

Blood. So much blood. It’s coming out of her mouth, what do I do? What do I do about internal bleeding again? Wasn’t I trained for this? Breathe. She’s not breathing. Are there other landmines? Can I drag her to safety? Where is everyone else? H-How. . . How can I help?

“Swallow, Ellie.” Dina was crouched in front of her, forcing her lips open to slide a pill onto her tongue.

“It was my fault. I-I fucking,” She choked out, gagging at the taste of the pill that was beginning to dissolve on her tongue. “I led them out there. Oh, fuck.”

Dina was beginning to panic, pushing the plastic cup up to Ellie’s mouth in the hopes that she would drink. She did, choking back the water in deep gulps. The water helped to fill the aching pit that was beginning to grow in her stomach. Water poured down the sides of Ellie’s lips, but she kept drinking. Deep, thoughtful gulps of ice cold water.

“Should I call an ambulance?” Dina finally asked, her eyes flickering between Ellie and her husband.

“No. No hospital. Just go sit with JJ, alright? I’ve got her.” Jesse told her, letting go of Ellie’s hands so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her against his chest so that she couldn’t stand up.

Ellie blinked and Dina was gone, the sound of her bare feet jogging down the hall was the only reminder of her presence.

“Joel isn’t going to judge you, Ellie. We all just want to help. So let us, alright?” She knew he was telling the truth, but the thought of Joel seeing her as lesser-than killed her. She would crumble completely if Joel looked at her with the same sorrowful eyes that Jesse did.

Joel was newly retired though, and the last thing he needed was to put up with his PTSD-ridden adopted daughter. She was tired of feeling like a burden, but where had standing on her own two feet gotten her? Arrested on multiple occasions? So she relented. She surrendered to the idea of sleeping in her old bedroom and taking up space in Joel’s too-big ranch home.

“Okay.” Ellie croaked, feeling the medication kicking in. Sleep. All Ellie wanted to do was sleep.

“Okay?” Jesse repeated back to her, needing to know that she was serious. The last thing he probably wanted to do was wrestle Ellie onto the plane. He wasn’t entirely sure he could overpower her when it came down to it.

“Okay.”

Grief was an uphill battle. One minute you’re laughing with your friends and then the next you’re laid up in bed, tossing and turning with the realization that what could have been was now an impossibility. You missed Abby. You missed the life that you could have had with her. All of the memories and milestones you missed out on were soul crushing the second that the sun went down.

You were left in your empty house, laid up in the bed that the two of you once shared. Her scent had long since washed out of her pillow. All that was left were pictures and a gravesite that you still couldn’t bring yourself to visit. Life doesn’t stop when you lose somebody though. People eventually become less forgiving as the months pass by.

So you squeezed your eyes closed and hoped that sleep would come sooner rather than later. You had an early start tomorrow for work, and the last thing you wanted was to show up with puffy eyes.

Life was getting better though. The pain wasn't as debilitating as it had been months ago, and for that you were thankful.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

You were still breathing, which was exactly what Abby would have wanted for you. The overwhelming grief hadn't killed you, no matter how many times you'd secretly prayed that it would. You were still here and that was good enough.

For now, at least.

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[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ONE ━━ Move-in Day

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 5.8K

❀ ━ warnings: none except this shits so dialogue heavy it’s almost sickening

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: hiii so this is my new series!!! i lowkey hate this chapter SO much i’ve rewritten it three times and can’t get it the way i want so i’m just publishing it as is. this fic is going to be much more light-hearted than take me to church (lol), big big slow burn and if i get it right almost reminiscent of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter more than i did LOL

THE EARLY afternoon light filters in through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the apartment floor. Paige stands in the middle of her new room, surveying the chaos of boxes, bags, and half-assembled furniture. It’s good to be back on campus—she’s been away for a few weeks, visiting her dad and Drew in Maryland and then her mom and siblings in Montana, and while she’s glad to have seen them, she can’t help but feel a pull toward the UConn, being with the team, practicing, basketball, all the above.

Her mind buzzes with excitement, anticipation for the new year, the new faces, the new challenges. She’s already mentally putting together how the season might go, how she’ll keep pushing herself harder, how she’s ready to lead her team. It feels like the first time in a long time that she’s been able to focus purely on basketball without the stress or rehab and recovery and she’s glad.

Her roommate, Josephine Jacobson—Jo—isn’t around yet. She’s a freshman, a sweet girl, the type that bleeds sunshine but can pull the demon out of herself on the court. Paige knows all about her, of course—how she’s a natural point guard, the number one recruit in the nation, will probably be the future of their team—but they’ve never really been close. Haven’t had the chance to be. But, as always, Paige feels optimistic about it. God put them together for a reason. After all, her past roommates have become some of her best friends. Nika and Evina her freshman year, and then Amari and Dorka last year. It just works out that way. Basketball bonds people, and she’s sure this year will be no different.

She moves one of the boxes to the side, careful not to knock over a stack of them as she does so. She arranges a pile of sweatshirts and sweatpants, making sure everything’s folded as neatly as she’s able to before moving on to the next task. This year, she’s determined to keep things organized, less chaos, more control. She wants her space to actually look nice, not like she’s some sort of slob. (She’s not sure how long this goal is going to last for).

Aubrey strolls in, another one of Paige’s boxes tucked into her hip. She’s already unpacked herself, having got here yesterday, and she’d offered to help Paige when she got here a little under an hour ago. Aubrey opens the box, seeing the bright purple comforter inside.

“Okay, P! I see color!” she says, a teasing grin on her face. “You finally given up on making your room look like a prison cell?”

Paige laughs, rolling her eyes. “Aye, my standards have rose this year. No more living in a box.” She gestures to the several LeBron and basketball posters filtering the floor in the corner of the room. “Decorating it nice this time, trust.”

Aubrey shakes her head, clearly amused. “Yep, I’m sure Bron’s face being the first thing you see when you walk in is gon’ make it real cozy.”

Paige just laughs again, stepping back to decide which corner of the room she wants her bed in. She tilts her head, looking back before deciding it’ll go best directly across the mirror-closet. For certain reasons she’d probably rather keep to herself for now.

“Who’re you rooming with again?” Paige asks, looking over at Aubrey, who’s taken the liberty of placing the millions of shoes Paige owns on the top shelf of her closet.

“Carol and Lili. It’s gonna be chill, for sure.” She shrugs before her eyes gleam a little, smirking at Paige. “Azzi’s gonna have it rough this year, though. Putting her with two freshmen is crazy work. They hyper as hell.”

Paige shrugs a little as she moves over to her bed. “Eh, Ines seems more quiet if anything. Ice, though, yeah. Azzi’ll be fine, though. She deals with me enough and I’m prolly just as bad.”

“Worse,” Aubrey corrects.

Paige rolls her eyes, opting to ask, “Can you help?” instead of responding to the jab. Aubrey nods, moving from her spot by the closet to stand next to Paige before the bed. “Where d’you want it?” she asks.

“Just in that corner,” the blonde responds, nodding her head to the other side.

Aubrey nods again and strides to the opposite side of the bed, the one near the wall. It’s a queen, so it’s too wide for just the two of them to carry, meaning they’ll have to just push it. Paige sighs before starting, her muscles straining slightly as she shoves her bed across the floor, the bed frame scraping noisily against it. Aubrey’s beside her, grabbing the other side with a grunt, their movements in sync but still awkward, both of them trying to be careful not to knock anything over or break anything.

“So,” Aubrey starts, breaking the rhythm of their movements, “what d’you think about yours? Jo. She’s a freshie, too.”

Paige doesn’t pause, her hands gripping the bed frame as she shifts it a few more inches. She’s thinking more about the layout of the room—where she wants things. After a few seconds, she shrugs, glancing over at Aubrey. “She’s cute,” Paige says simply, her voice light as she looks for the right angle to fit the bed by the wall.

Aubrey pauses. For a second, Paige doesn’t even notice—she’s too busy pushing the bed into position. But then Aubrey let’s our a low, exaggerated breath and Paige glances up, noticing the way she’s studying her with a raised brow.

Aubrey gives her a behave type of look. “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson,” she tells Paige, slow and deliberate, like she’s really trying to get the blonde to understand this.

Paige’s head whips toward her, eyes wide, her grip slipping off the bed frame. “What?” she asks, voice higher than she intends. She looks at Aubrey, still not quite sure if she’s hearing her right. “What are you even talking ‘bout?”

Aubrey just stares, the expression on her face unwavering. “I’m saying, you can’t fuck her. Like, seriously, don’t even think about it.”

The words hit Paige like a slap, but it’s not the harshness of them that makes her heart skip. It’s the fact that Aubrey said it with such absolute certainty, like it was a rule she needed to lay down for Paige.

The blonde furrows her brows as she process what Aubrey just said. She opens her mouth, trying to make sense of it. “Aubrey, what? I—” she stops herself, trying to piece things together. The more she thinks about it, the weirder it all sounds. She barely knows Jo—hell, Jo hasn’t even gotten to campus yet. She’s literally just a sweet freshman, one of the new players. Of course, Paige isn’t thinking about anything remotely romantic with her. Not at all.

She can’t even fathom it.

“Aubrey, bro, are you seriously suggesting that I… What?” Paige repeats, still not believing it. “I—I don’t—no, no, that’s not even a thing.”

Aubrey exclaims, “You just said she was cute! You can’t be doing that, P.”

Paige shakes her head, laughing a little in disbelief, clearly thrown by the whole insinuation. “Yeah, like in a I-wanna-pinch-your-cheeks kind of cute,” she says, mimicking the motion with her hands. “Like she’s sweet, not like she’s fine and I wanna hit that. She’s a freshman and our teammate, bro—you know I ain’t do stuff like that.”

Aubrey, unfazed by Paige’s defense, just raises an eyebrow. “Ion know, your hook-ups have been kinda wild lately.”

Paige rolls her eyes as she reaches down, grabbing the corner of the bed and pulling it another inch into place. “That’s different,” Paige tells her. “That was like, months ago—”

“Three weeks ago,” Aubrey interrupts, but Paige doesn’t bother listening.

“—and that wasn’t even serious. I wouldn’t do that shit with Jo. She’s pretty, but—”

She cuts herself off, realizing how that could sound, and immediately backpedals.

“But she’s a teammate,” Paige finishes, nodding as though it’s the most logical conclusion. Which, it is. “I don’t see her like that. She’ll prolly be like a little sister or something. Seriously, you ain’t gotta worry about this.”

Aubrey doesn’t seem entirely convinced but just shrugs it off with a nonchalant wave. “Alright, alright. Just makin’ sure. Senior duties and all,” she says.

Paige rolls her eyes, nudging the girl in her ribs. Aubrey hisses, and nudges the blonde back. And then they return their attention to the bed, giving it one final tug, making sure it’s aligned just right.

Paige pulls away, taking a look with her hands on her hips. The room looks good, feels right. A good place to spend her next year. And even though she doesn’t know what that year might bring—how the team will play, how her body will hold up—it feels like everything’s in its place for now.

(Minus Aubrey’s odd assumptions, that is).

JO’S STOMACH flutters with a mixture of excitement and nerves as the car pulls into the parking lot right in front of what will be her new home. Her gaze drifts over the apartment building, taking in the sprawling complex that will be hers for the next year. The sun is high, casting everything in a golden glow, and it’s one of those perfect, early summer days—the kind that makes everything feel new and fresh. This is it. She’s finally here. UConn; her dream since forever. The place she’s watched on TV for as long as she can remember, watching them win championship after championship. And, now, it’s real. She’s actually here.

Her dad pulls into a parking space, the car humming to a stop, and Jo takes a deep breath, fighting back the lump in her throat. It’s not that she’s scared; it’s more that it feels huge. This is the beginning of everything. Her heart races a little, her palms tingling. She’s excited—so excited—but it’s all a little daunting, too. The whole what if she doesn’t belong here, what if it’s not everything she’s ever dreamed of echoes in her head, but she knows better than to entertain those thoughts. Despite this always being her dream school, she made sure to explore her options before committing. And, after everything, Storrs was somehow her favorite.

But it’s still a little hard to ignore the tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispers doubts. At least she has familiar faces here—her teammates. She can’t imagine coming here alone, without knowing anyone at all, without that built-in support system. It helps, knowing that the people she’s going to spend the next chapter of her life with are familiar faces, not strangers. Still, there’s a big difference between practice and living together, between seeing someone for a few hours on a court and sharing an apartment with them. The whole thing feels a little surreal.

“Ready, sunshine?” her dad asks, giving her a side-eye as he shuts off the car. His voice has a teasing, comforting quality that always makes Jo feel like everything will be okay.

Jo doesn’t answer right away, just smiles nervously, nodding as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “I think so,” she says, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Her mom grins at her from the front seat, practically glowing with excitement. “Come on, it’s gonna be so great, Joey.”

Jo laughs softly, the sound easy and light, nodding. They get out of the car, opening the trunk, and Jo begins unloading her bags and boxes—the millions of them. She didn’t mean to over-pack, but somehow, her whole life had been crammed into suitcases and boxes. Her parents each grab as much as they can hold, but even the three of them can’t carry everything, so they head toward the building, the weight of it all already starting to feel like more than it should.

The hallway inside the building smells like fresh paint and clean floors, and it has that crisp, cool air of a place that’s seen its fair share of new beginnings. Jo’s parents chat with each other, but Jo can hardly keep her thoughts straight. She’s here, really here, and she’s not sure if it’s excitement or fear that’s making her heart beat so fast.

They trudge up the stairs together—her dad leading, her mom picking up the rear, and Jo in the middle. The stairs creak beneath their weight, and every step takes them closer to her new life. She tries not to think about how much this move means, how much it’s going to mean—because that’s just the kind of thing that could make her go a little crazy.

When they finally reach her apartment, Jo’s the first to pull out her keys. She opens the door, excitement bubbling in her chest, but as she’s about to step inside, someone is trying to step out, bumping right into her.

Paige.

She steadies Jo with a hand on her shoulder, looking down at the girl—she’s only got a couple inches on Jo, but it certainly feels like a lot more right now—saying, with a little bit of surprise in her tone, “Oh, hi, Jo.”

Jo stills for just a split second. She’s met Paige several times—throughout her recruitment, last year when she and Ice and Yanna were here for First Night, all the games she attended in between—but, for Jo, it’s still a little like, wow, okay, hi Paige Bueckers. She’s admired Paige and her game for years, so yeah, maybe she’s a little starstruck every time she sees her. But she realizes just as quickly how that needs to change immediately because they are going to be living together for the next year. She’s here for a reason, not to be starry-eyed over the blonde girl in front of her.

“Hey!” Jo manages, flashing Paige a bright, warm smile that’s always her go-to move, even if her heart is racing.

Paige’s gaze shifts from Jo’s face to her parents, then down to the ridiculous amount of luggage they’re all holding, and her eyebrows raise. “Wow,” she says with a laugh. “Over-packer?”

Jo laughs, too, feeling some of that initial awkwardness beginning to seep away. “This isn’t even all of it,” she admits, shifting her weight a little. She realizes how she’s being a little rude, not introducing her mom and dad, so she gestures to them and says, “These are my parents. And this is Paige.”

Jo’s parents exchange polite hellos, nodding toward the blonde, who’s already stepping aside to let them through.

“Lemme help you with that,” Paige offers before anyone can protest, already lifting a couple of boxes from Jo’s mom. It’s clear she’s used to helping out—comfortable in this setting—and Jo appreciates it, even though she knows she can manage. But Paige’s energy is infectious, and she can’t help but feel comforted by the ease in the older girl’s presence.

“Thanks,” Jo says gratefully. “It’s a lot of stuff.”

Paige shrugs, a casual smile on her face. “It’s all good. We’ve got time. I’ll help you get settled.”

The four of them make their way into the apartment, and Jo’s parents immediately make a beeline for Jo’s bedroom to drop off the bags they’re carrying. They work together, setting everything down in a neat pile before Jo’s mom turns to her with a warm smile.

“We’ll go get the rest of it,” she tells her daughter. “You start unpacking, ‘kay?”

Jo nods, trying to hide the way her heart sinks a little at the idea of being left alone for the first time in a new place.

But then she realizes, she’s not alone. Paige is still here.

Jo takes a deep breath, then steps further into her room, already eyeing the empty bed and the space where she’s going to have to build her new life. The door clicks shut behind her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them. For a moment, neither says anything. It’s a little awkward, that first silence between two almost-strangers who are about to be more than that—roommates, teammates, friends.

Paige rubs the back of her neck, probably feeling it too. Clearly, though, she doesn’t like that, and Jo watches as she lazily plops down into the standard-issue desk chair, making herself at ease. She grins at Jo, saying with a casualness that somehow manages to be both disarming and mildly intimidating, “So, how was the drive?”

Jo shrugs a little, leaning slightly on the bed frame. “Not bad,” she replies. “Boston’s only like an hour and a half away.”

“Oh, yeah,” Paige says, nodding her head in almost mock realization. “New England girl. I knew that.”

Jo grins, bemused and already starting to feel more comfortable. “Born and raised.”

“Nice,” Paige says, dragging the word out a little. “You got the accent and everything?”

“I don’t know, do I sound like I do?” Jo asks, laughing softly.

Paige’s grin widens as she spins in the chair. “Hmm,” she hums, eyes narrowing teasingly. “I dunno, talk more.”

Jo laughs again, looking at the blonde with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “What do you want me to say?” she questions, tilting her head as another small giggle bubbles in her chest.

“Like, something with an R. That’s what a Boston accent is, right?” Paige shrugs, gummy smile on full display and eyebrows raised. She leans forward a little, before saying with a terrible attempt at a Boston accent, “Park the car in Harvard yard?”

Jo can’t help but outright snort at that, stomach constricting as she laughs at the blonde. Paige laughs, too, scrunching her nose as she does so. “Oh my God, you did not,” Jo manages between giggles, eyes crinkling a little.

“I did,” Paige replies. “Now you gotta! Lemme hear the accent!”

“You’re not real,” Jo mumbles, shaking her head, in half disbelief at the pure unseriousness of Paige Bueckers. But it’s nice—that she’s already making her feel so comfortable. Jo sighs, before saying indignantly, “Park the car in Harvard yard.”

Paige claps her hands together, laughing loudly as she exclaims, “You definitely have one!”

Jo’s jaw drops a little, defending, “No one has ever told me I have an accent, you definitely just need your ears checked.”

Paige grins, shaking her head, saying, “Nah, it’s there. I heard it.”

“Fine,” Jo relents, rolling her eyes. “You should hear my dad, though. It’s really thick sometimes.”

Paige leans forward on the chair again, eyes lighting up with a bit of interest. “I gotta hear it. Maybe I’ll ask him to say it, too.”

Jo just shakes her head, rolling her eyes again as the corners of her mouth twitch upward despite herself. There’s something about Paige that makes it hard to stay guarded—not that Jo was trying to. She’s just… larger than life in a way that could definitely be overwhelming, but there’s such an ease to her too, a confidence that feels oddly inviting.

“Are you finished unpacking?” Jo asks, breaking the newfound silence as she gestures vaguely toward the blonde’s room behind the door.

Paige shrugs, her expression somewhere between proud and sheepish. “Mostly. Aubrey and I did it this morning, but I definitely cut corners. If you open any of the drawers in there, so messy. I got lazy.”

Jo raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking up. “Efficient, though.”

“Exactly,” Paige says, pointing at her. “You get it.”

And then the easy rhythm between them is interrupted by the loud, unmistakable growl of Jo’s stomach. Her cheeks flush immediately as Paige’s grin spreads wider, her laugh concerns again breaking the quiet of the room.

“Hungry?” she teases, spinning the chair one last time before stopping to slouch backward against it.

“Ugh, yeah,” Jo groans, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten since, like, breakfast.”

“Same,” Paige says with a nod, pushing herself up out of the chair and stretching her arms over her head. “I think we’re all gonna get pizza tonight, though. Go up to Nika’s and hang out. She’s with Yanna and Amari. You’re coming, of course.”

Jo grins, raising her eyebrows as she says teasingly, “I don’t have a choice?” It’s just a joke, because, obviously, even if she did, she’d go either way.

Paige gives her a little look, narrowing her eyes jokingly as she leans forward, flicking Jo on the arm and telling her, “Absolutely not.”

Before she can respond, there’s a knock at the doorframe and Jo’s mom’s voice floats in cheerfully, “Look who we found!”

Jo turns to see her parents standing in the doorway, her dad carrying a suitcase while her mom holds the door open for someone else—none other than Ice Brady. Jo knows Ice well, the two of them having gotten easily close during different USA basketball gigs and through their shared commitment process. Ice grins broadly, a laundry basket balanced on her hip—clearly, she’s been put to work.

“Aye, hey guys!” she calls out, stepping into the room with an energy that matches her nickname—cool, but in a warm and easy way.

“Of course they roped you into helping,” Jo says, laughing as Ice sets the basket down with a playful groan.

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she says, shaking her head playfully as she glances back at Jo’s parents who just smile at her, shrugging.

Ice then leans in, giving Jo a little side-hug as she says, “Hey, JoJo.”

Jo rolls her eyes, swatting at Ice’s arm. “I told you, no calling me that.” While Paige, who’s now leant casually against the desk, exclaims, “Oh my God, like JoJo Siwa.”

Ice laughs saying, “Exactly,” as she leans over and daps Paige up with a grin. Jo gives both of them little glares, saying, “No, I am not JoJo Siwa! Jo or Josephine, nothing else.”

Ice shrugs, sniggering, “JoJo.”

“Isuneh!”

THE AIR in the apartment is warm and filled with the hum of overlapping voices. Paige sits tucked into the corner of the small couch, her legs crossed under her, a half-eaten slice of pizza balanced on a paper plate in her lap. To her right, Dorka’s mid-sentence, recounting some story from her summer that has Aaliyah laughing hard enough to cover her mouth with her hand.

It’s the first real team hangout of the year, the kind where the bonds for the season start to form, where they begin to really get to know the new guys. The absence of last year’s seniors—Christyn, Olivia, E—feels strange but not exactly heavy; just like a space waiting to be filed rather than a void that can’t be. Paige glances across the room at Lou, Azzi, and Ines, sprawled across the other couch. Azzi leans back, her ankles crossed on the coffee table, her focus more on her phone than the conversation, but Paige knows her well enough to see that she’s listening. Lou’s animated hands keep catching Paige’s eye as she gestures through some story, and Ines is nodding along, face lighting up with her adorable freshman-ness.

Paige’s gaze then drifts downward, landing on the scene on the floor. Jo is half-laying across Caroline’s legs, her dark hair spilling against Caroline’s leggings. Caroline, ever the mother, absently runs her fingers through Jo’s hair while chatting with Aubrey. Faintly, Paige is aware that Jo and Caroline know each other well, have been friends for years. Both grew up in Massachusetts, not far from one another, same AAU team if Paige’s memory serves her correctly.

The new guys—the freshmen and Lou—all already fit in well. Lou and Ines have already created easy bonds with each other and Azzi. Ice is playfully bickering with Nika and Amari at the table, the three of them leaning into a conversation that seems half-joking, half-serious. Jo’s a little quiet, looking more thoughtful than anything, but Paige can tell she’s completely comfortable as she lays on Caroline and listens to her steady stream of chatter. Yanna, too, though she’s also on the quiet side, pitches into Aubrey and Caroline’s conversation every now and then.

Paige shifts her focus back to her plate, taking another bite of pizza. It’s bland and overly chewy, a far cry from what she’s been craving. She doesn’t say anything, though. The conversation flows around her, easy and light, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of someone setting a cup down too hard.

“God, this tastes like cardboard,” Ice announces suddenly, holding up her slice with a look of exaggerated disgust.

“Yeah, it’s… not good,” Jo says with a little grimace, Paige watching as she glances at her half-eaten slice that she hasn’t touched in probably ten minutes.

“Tastes like cafeteria food,” Yanna says from her spot on the bar stool, though Paige can see that she’s eaten all of hers.

“Worse than cafeteria food,” Azzi chimes in, eyes still on her phone, tone a little dry. “School pizza pretends to have flavor.”

Nika nods at everyone’s words, looking like the pizza situation might as well be a tragedy. Which, to Nika, Paige knows it kind of is. “Yeah, bro, we gotta go to New Haven if we want any god pizza. It’s my biggest disappointment in life.”

Paige grins at that, leaning back into the couch as she watches the exchange. It’s funny to her how every year, without fail, the new players get hit with the reality of Storrs’ subpar pizza options. “Y’all gotta get used to it.”

Ice groans, and Paige laughs a little as she contradicts herself and takes another big bite of pizza.

Jo glances up from her spot on the floor, dark brows arching in amusement. “Nika, New Haven’s an hour away.”

“Worth it,” Nika insists, hands slicing through the air for emphasis. “Best pizza in the country, hands down.”

“Eh, debatable,” Ice fires back, smirking.

“Debatable?” Nika repeats, looking scandalized. “’Kay, no, see, now you gotta go. I’m takin’ you to Pepe’s or Sally’s, and then we’ll talk.”

The debate spirals from there, the room splitting into factions—those who have been to New Haven and swear by it, and the skeptics like Ice who clearly need convincing. Paige inputs a couple times, but other than that continues eating her cardboard pizza, taking the time to listen, which she doesn’t usually do. The topic quickly starts to feel like it’s been beaten to death, but that doesn’t stop Nika from gesturing wildly as Ice shakes her head, arms crossed like she’s already over it.

Paige’s gaze shifts from them to Jo and Caroline, who are directly in front of her across the room. There’s a mischievous tilt to Jo’s smile as she watches Ice and Nika, and Paige feels a pang of curiosity. Jo looks like she’s got something to say, and sure enough, a beat later, she interrupts with a voice that carries just enough weight to make everyone turn her way.

“Ice,” Jo interrupts, her tone deceptively innocent, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s quit talking about pizza and talk about your new little goal you’ve got.”

The room collectively seems to perk up at that. Paige sits up straighter, interest piqued. She glances at Ice, who immediately shoots Jo a warning glare.

“No,” the Brady girl says firmly, voice clipped.

The refusal only makes Paige more curious. She leans forward, elbows on her knees now, eyes wide with a playful insistence. “Oh, no, you gotta tell us now,” she exclaims, grin wide.

Aaliyah, beside her, says, “Yeah, Ice, don’t leave us hangin’!”

Ice shakes her head, clearly unwilling to budge. But Jo, apparently unfazed by the glare the Brady girl has set on her hard, sits up slightly, her smile turning almost devilish. “Ice said she wants a sneaky link by next week. It’s her number one goal now that she’s on campus!”

The reaction is instant and explosive. Loud laughs and little screams of exclamation erupt from everyone as Ice’s face twists into a mix of betrayal and outrage. Paige finds herself laughing so hard she has to lean back into the couch, her head tipping toward the ceiling as her shoulders shake.

“Jo!” Ice exclaims, her voice a biz of exasperation and disbelief. She grabs a napkin from the table and chucks it at Jo, who barely flinches.

Caroline picks the napkin up and tosses it toward the trash can, her tone scolding and motherly as she says, “Ice.”

But Ice doesn’t listen. Instead, she points an accusing finger at Jo, her eyes narrowing. “JoJo, you’re such a traitor.”

Jo’s grin only widens. She shrugs, looking utterly unbothered as she settled back into Caroline’s lap. “Hey, we’re all willing to help you find a fuck buddy, don’t you worry.”

Ice glares even harder and it makes Jo laugh again. Paige can’t help but let her gaze linger on the brunette, her chest still tight from laughing. Jo’s giggles are unrestrained, her cheeks flushed with amusement. There’s something about it that Paige finds infectious. The way Jo lights up when she’s laughing feels almost magnetic, like she’s carrying her own little pocket of sunshine.

“Oh, Ice,” Nika says, pulling Paige’s gaze away from Jo. There’s a familiar glint in Nika’s eyes. “If you need help finding a sneaky link, Paige is the expert. She’s got you covered.”

Paige’s mouth falls open, eyes widening as she stares at her twin. “Yo!” she exclaims, sitting up.

Amari snorts from her spot at the table, her expression one of barely-constrained amusement. “P, be for real.”

Azzi, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in a while, adds in without missing a beat, “Paige is a man-whore, if that wasn’t obvious.”

Paige gasps dramatically, her hand clutching her chest like she’s been mortally wounded. “I ain’t even a man!”

“You act like one,” Caroline chimes in, voice calm but teasing.

Paige just stares at all of them, her mouth slightly open, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Man, what’s all this gangin’ up on me for?” she asks, her tone half-offended, half-playful.

Eventually, the room’s energy slowly shifts as the teasing dies down. Laughter fades into soft chuckles, and everyone starts settling back into their spots. Paige stretches her legs out again, her socked feet brushing lightly against the coffee table. The buzz of the conversation has left her grinning, though her cheeks still feel warm from all the ribbing. She’s content to let the chatter flow around her now, her focus drifting as she scrolls on Instagram until Aaliyah leans forward from the couch and throws a spark back into the room.

“Jo,” Aaliyah says, tone playful, “since you were so quick to expose Ice, you got anyone you’ve been wanting?”

Paige perks up at that, curious despite herself. Sue her if she’s nosy. She glances toward Jo, who’s still sprawled on the floor, her head now resting against Caroline’s knee. Jo’s expression doesn’t change much, maybe softens slightly.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ice says quickly, annoyance lacing her voice. Paige can tell it’s because she can’t humiliate Jo like she’s just exposed her. Ice gestures at the Jacobson girl with her pizza crust like she’s making a point. “Girl’s already met her damn husband.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the certainty in Ice’s tone. She watches Jo carefully now, noting the way a faint smile tugs at her lips. It’s not the cheeky grin she’s been wearing most of the night; it’s something softer, quieter, like the thought of this so-called future husband of hers is enough to soothe her, ground her.

Amari leans forward from her chair and tilts her head. “Aw, Jo, you have a boyfriend?”

Jo nods, that same small, telling smile still on her face. Paige notices how her cheeks turn just the slightest shade pinker. It’s… different. Softer, almost vulnerable.

Damn, Paige thinks, watching her. She must really love that boy.

The room seems to erupt again, this time not in laughter but in a cascade of questions and exclamations. Nika asks, “How long you been dating?”

Jo shifts a little, clearly embarrassed, mumbling, “Eighth grade.”

Paige feels her eyes widen, almost so wide they might as well pop out of their sockets. It’s impressive—a middle school relationship lasting that long.

But then Caroline adds with a knowing smile, “Yeah, but you’ve loved him since you were, like, four, Jo.”

Jo’s face flushes deeper, and she buries it briefly against Caroline’s leg before mumbling, “Yeah, we’ve been next-door neighbors our whole lives.”

The whole team seems to aw at that, exclaiming how cute. “Jo, that’s like a movie!” Azzi says softly, a hopeless romantic. Paige has to admit they’re not wrong. It’s that perfect, golden sort of story people write novels about—the girl-next-door falling for the boy-next-door.

Except Paige doesn’t really think it’s all that cute. Maybe it’s because she’s too gay, but she doesn’t get how anyone could be into a boy, especially for that long. It just seems… exhausting. Still, she keeps her mouth shut, letting the conversation roll on without her. It’s uncharacteristic.

Ines, eyes wide with interest asks, “What’s his name?”

“Asher,” Jo answers, voice soft but steady.

Dorka, next to Paige, claps her hands together. “Let me see a picture, Jo!”

Jo hesitates for a second, her blush depending, but then she sits up and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She unlocks it, turning the screen toward Dorka—and toward Paige, who can’t help but sneak a glance.

Paige hates to admit it, but it’s… cute. The way Jo’s looking at him in the picture—it’s soft, unguarded, like the rest of the world could fall away, and she wouldn’t care as long as he’s there.

Paige doesn’t know if she’s jealous that Jo has a love like that and she doesn’t, or if she’s disgusted by the whole prospect.

Dorka coos, smile wide. “So cute!”

Jo laughs, a little bashful now, and Aubrey pipes up from her spot on the barstool by the kitchen. “Where’s he going to school?”

“Penn State,” Jo answers.

Paige catches the the slight shift in Jo’s posture, the way she tenses a little, the way her smile falters ever so slightly. That kind of distance is hard, especially for a young relationship.

Paige leans back into the couch, her gaze still lingering on Jo as the conversation continues. She wonders if they’ll last. Not in a mean way—Jo clearly loves the guy—but Paige has seen it happen before. Everyone has. High school sweethearts falling apart once they hit college, the distance and the changes proving too much.

Still, something about the way Jo smiled at him in that photo makes Paige hesitate. Maybe they’ll be one of the lucky ones.

Or maybe it’s not her place for even thinking about it at all.

[rednightmare18]

We're sucked into medieval Bohemia again, serfs, so I thought I’d whip up a list of my KCD1 Hansry-focused fics… since I realize folks may be hungry for Hans x Henry content that doesn’t spoil KCD2. (Plus a couple fics with limited spoilers, clearly flagged below.)

If anyone wants ’em, here they are! (Please consult the tags on ao3 for additional content warnings, and thanks @charlie-rulerofhell for making this pretty gif!)

rednightmare’s Hans x Henry fic list

A Strange Hunt

Mature. Complete. NO KCD2 SPOILERS.

In a storm, I think, 'What if the gospel be not true?’ – John Wesley Hal, Hans, and Theresa—chasing ghosts who cannot love them back.

Description: Three connected character pieces, one for each lead of KCD1. My first KCD fic, and I still think it’s my best.

Warnings: Canon (non-graphic) sexual assault in Chapter 1.

With Horn and Leash

Teen+. Complete. NO KCD2 SPOILERS.

It is Henry’s first winterhunt, and wolves are howling in the fields. Hans cannot understand why everyone is so afraid.

Description: Henry confronts Hans about his piss-poor lordship and the consequences thereof.

Lost in the Trees

Explicit. Complete. NO KCD2 SPOILERS.

Henry uses his time in the monastery to reflect on his life—as it is, and as it used to be, and his relationship with Lord Capon.

Description: A lengthy relationship study of Hans’s role in Henry’s life and recovery from grief.

In Spring

Mature. Complete. NO KCD2 SPOILERS.

Spring cannot last forever. Eventually, he will grow up.

Description: An exploration of the end of Lord Capon’s extended adolescence as he faces the inevitability of his future.

Without Home

Mature. Complete. NO KCD2 SPOILERS.

Ma, who knew more about ash and ruin than you’d think, once warned Father not to heal a wound with hot coals. “You be careful rushing things with fire,” she said. “You’ll get the bleeding stopped, for certain. But once it has—if it sickens—you’ll have a Hell of a time ever letting the blood back out.” The whole world goes to fire. Henry waits to bleed again for a long time.

Description: Henry confronts his grief and takes the only path forward: through it.

Fortune Favors the Bold

Explicit (eventually). Longfic, UNFINISHED. NO KCD2 SPOILERS.

An Amorous Adventures + Capon’s Champion DLC redux romp staged during a joust and narrated via three alternating POVs: Lord Capon, Henry, and Karolina. Silly and sad in turns. (Mostly silly, though.)

Description: A deeply dramatic longfic-in-progress. Alas, I probably need a new name for it now…

Prayer Before Morning

Teen+. Complete. NO KCD2 SPOILERS.

At Christmastime, even Hans must go to church. Because he is still Hans, he brings Henry along.

Description: Winter-themed sugary fic with a hard shot of lordship angst. One shot.

by a heel

Teen+. Complete. LIMITED KCD2 SPOILERS: FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS

God’s truth: It does not occur to Henry until the moment he spies Hans’s heel hanging over the edge of the block at Trosky that Birdie of Pirkstein could ever die.

Description: My take on For Whom the Bell Tolls. One shot, "missing scene," canon outcome with an established relationship flair. KCD2 SPOILERS FOR SAID QUEST.

The Silence After Suchdol

Mature. Complete. LIMITED KCD2 SPOILERS: POST-GAME

The dust of Suchdol settles, and it coats Henry's heart with strange magic. It feels as though he can see everything that will happen next.

Description: A relationship study in the post-game to unpack the events of KCD II and prepare for the next phase of Henry's life with Lord Capon. Limited KCD2 spoilers. One shot, fluffy and philosophical.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER NINE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur thelightknight21 wc: 9.9k notes: with the 1st pick in the 2025 wnba draft, the dallas wings select... the IRP masterlist, lee university! cringe i know but it's the last chapter, let me be happy. i wrote the first half of this chap before the providence game, felt like a witch once the starting lineup dropped, currently manifesting the rest of this chapter ages just as well (my ball knowledge is limited, if the game doesn't make sense just let me be delusional, i dont give a gaf). smut warning, who's surprised. fluffier than chapter 6 methinks. tried to fulfill the nice/gentle P agenda, may have fumbled the bag bc this somehow felt more filfthy? kinda short too idk lmk 😩 not proofread, i'll probably come back later to edit. sorry for yapping (no im not) but i hope you all enjoyed reading irp as much as i enjoyed writing it, thank you for sending in such sweet comments and engaging in the inbox, they were genuinely so motivating and i loved interacting w y'all 🫶 as always i hope we're rocking w this final chapter 🙂‍↕️

‘The Return of Tess Kennedy’

A little over two years ago, college basketball sensation Tess Kennedy tore her ACL in the Final Four matchup between the University of Iowa Hawkeyes and the South Carolina Gamecocks. Kennedy, who’d amassed fifteen points close to the end of the third quarter, was a pivotal element to South Carolina’s game – Iowa struggled to lock her down. Kennedy stepped off wrong and collapsed on court. Many knew what had happened long before the news broke. Her recovery was far from easy, but Kennedy did the impossible and recovered just in time for the SEC championship and the March Madness tournament, where she led South Carolina to a redemption win over Iowa with a dominating 30 points. Following the win, Kennedy shared a photo of herself holding the championship trophy, one eye closed in a wink and her lips curled into a smug snarl, and captioned it, “took a year off to cut you bitches some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend tess kennedy’s back.”

Many athletes often need a long period of adjustment after returning from a serious injury. Kennedy, however, played as though that statistic did not apply to her. Kennedy played as though she had something to prove. A loud majority of fans speculated that Kennedy fought so fiercely because her girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, and the UConn Huskies had been eliminated by Iowa in the Final Four match only two days prior to the championship. A smaller few claimed Kennedy holds a grudge against Iowa for her injury – although Kennedy disputed this theory in a presser, linked here.

The simplest truth of the matter is that Kennedy did not play any sort of way for anyone but herself and her team. She proved to herself that she could come back even better from an injury that she thought would uproot her life. She played for her team, who uplifted her during recovery and gave her the tools and the support to show up and show out when the world was watching. Kennedy played the way she did because that’s just what Tess Kennedy does.

During South Carolina’s 2024 Senior Night, Kennedy announced that she would stay at South Carolina for another year of college basketball. She cited her injury as the source of her decision. She explained that there is still more recovery for her to do and that she did not feel comfortable declaring for the draft with only five games post-injury under her belt, especially since she was under a minute restriction during those games. We believe that decision is the best she could have made for herself.

Throughout the 2024-2025 regular season, Kennedy has averaged 26.2 points per game, 4.3 steals per game, 3.7 blocks per game, and 3.2 assists per game. Since her injury, she’s turned into both an offensive and defensive dual threat, leading the South Carolina offense with help from Raven Johnson, MiLaysia Fulwiley, and Te-Hina Paopao. Coach Dawn Staley describes Kennedy as “unguardable” from the perimeter and “unstoppable” from the midrange. Coach Staley also notes that Kennedy’s midrange improvements have pleasantly surprised her as Kennedy was usually a reliable three-point specialist. Coach Staley would not elaborate on where Kennedy’s sudden game adjustments have come from, but one basketball analyst noted that Kennedy’s midrange proficiency looks stunningly like girlfriend Paige Bueckers’s. This is not surprising in the slightest as Kennedy and Bueckers spent the offseason together on a joint “world-tour” that evidently included lots and lots of time in the gym.

The SEC tournament has come and gone with, you guessed it, South Carolina as the winner, having defeated Tennessee and LSU back to back. South Carolina dominated the first five rounds of the NCAA tournament. In the Final Four, they defeated UCLA in a convincing 78-71 victory. For the championship match, they’re against UConn, who is fresh off of a hard-fought Final Four victory against Notre Dame.

This is precisely the clash of the titans that basketball fans have been looking forward to since June of 2023. UConn vs. South Carolina. Bueckers vs. Kennedy. This is a rematch for the 2022 championship game wherein UConn fell short, but many are questioning South Carolina’s ability to go back to back, especially since UConn has seen tremendous growth over the past season. With a healthy Azzi Fudd and a healthy Aubrey Griffin, sharpshooters Ashlynn Shade and Allie Ziebell, energetic KK Arnold and Morgan Cheli, imposing Jana El-Alfy, transfer portal weapon Kaitlyn Chen, do-it-all field general Paige Bueckers, and Sarah Strong – no title, Sarah Strong is that girl – UConn is a fan favorite to win. With the final tipoff only an hour away, we are at the edge of our seats in anticipation. Let us know in the comments below – who are you rooting for?

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

APRIL 6, 2025

If there’s one thing that Tess knows is true about Paige Bueckers after over a year of dating, it’s that Paige always keeps her promise.

You and me, same time next year?

Tess watches her warm up only a half court away. She’s stunning, donning a UConn sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, her hair up in her gameday braids that Tess has full intention of ruining later after her girlfriend is crowned an NCAA champion. That thought alone shouldn’t excite her as much as it does, but she can’t help herself. Paige and her team have worked incredibly hard to be here – Tess has gotten to witness that first hand. She also can’t help feeling a little smug because she was right. Kaitlyn Chen, transfer portal weapon. Freshmen Morgan Cheli and Allie Ziebell – they both needed a few games to get comfortable, but once they were hot, they were hot. And finally, Sarah fucking Strong, Paige’s freshman menace that honestly needs to declare right now because college basketball will not be safe with her on the court.

Tess has no intention of rolling over and letting them win – Paige would honestly break up with her, which would ruin the entirety of Tess’s five year plan: get drafted. Win some shit. Dunk on Paige Bueckers. Marry Paige Bueckers. Free agency. Simple and easy. But Tess also knows that UConn will be playing with something to lose, a chip to win, and that they were easily the most challenging match-up they’d faced all year with the exception of the final SEC teams. UConn defeated them at home, even after Tess dropped 20 hard fought points – they honestly just had no answer for Sarah Strong, which is becoming a recurring theme as of late.

“Oh my God, not this shit again,” Raven complains. Tess turns just in time to catch the ball that Raven had definitely aimed at her ass.

“Stop throwing balls at me!” Tess exclaims, chucking the ball back.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend!” Raven retorts. “Like, for real. It’s making me sick. Do you want me throwing up before a natty match?” Tess pauses, tapping her chin dramatically like she has to truly think about it. “I wish you’d declared last year. That way I wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this ‘when will my wife come back from war’ bullshit.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “Where’s Chloe at? I suddenly have an opening in my bridal party.”

“Wait, no!” Raven says quickly, her entire expression shifting. “You can’t kick me out of the wedding. I didn’t even know I was in it!”

“You weren’t,” Tess states bluntly, which makes Raven huff again. “Kam’s my maid of honor, obviously. Then Aliyah’s coming, Bree, Destanni, Zia. Do you think I can get A’ja there?”

Raven looks her up and down, unimpressed. “No,” she says flatly. “You’ll be marrying a Husky.”

Tess lights up. “Oh my God, I can get Stewie there. That’d be cool, too.”

“How about you pump the brakes and lock the fuck in so your girlfriend doesn’t embarass us?” Raven suggests. “Like, did that ever cross your mind?”

She shrugs sheepishly. “I’m locked in,” she says. “Go do your weird pregame rituals, sacrifice a chicken or something.”

Raven rolls her eyes, stalking away with her ball. Tess watches her try to sweet talk an assistant coach into rebounding for her and she can’t help but smile. She’ll miss Raven when she’s in the league – sure, they’ll keep in contact, but it’s different when you’re no longer a few doors down from everyone. She’ll miss all of her girls. Not Ashlyn, though. The charges may have been dropped but assault and battery and kidnapping? Is nobody the least bit concerned? Tess digresses, though. She’s gonna miss her team, especially annoying ass Raven Johnson who likes throwing shit at people.

Before she returns to her own warmups, Tess looks across the court once more. Paige is already staring at her. They share a soft, private smile – and then Paige is grabbing Sarah by the sleeve of her shirt, causing her shot to sail out of bounds as Paige points at her with a proud smile that clearly says look at my freshman! Sarah looks unbelievably confused at first, but levels Paige with a nasty side eye once she realizes that she’s been dragged in as a ploy to tease Tess. She shrugs out of Paige’s grasp to continue shooting which makes Tess laugh and Paige huff dramatically.

The both of them resume their warmups and before they know it, tip off has come around. Paige, Sarah, Azzi, Jana, and Kaitlyn are starting for UConn, whereas Raven, Chloe, Tess, Sania, and Te-Hina are starting for South Carolina. Both teams set up around Chloe and Jana to receive the opening tip, and once the referee throws the ball into the air, Jana knocks it over to the Huskies. Sarah kicks it out to Paige, who begins directing traffic as she brings the ball up court. Tess, tasked with guarding Azzi, sticks on her like glue, trying to not let her get her hands on the ball. Raven’s defense is suffocating, but Sarah gets open and Paige passes it swiftly to her. As Chloe and Sania fold in on her to prevent the shot, Sarah passes to Jana, who gets the easy layup under the bucket. Sania inbounds to Raven. She’s delayed in bringing the ball up due to Kaitlyn’s defensive pressure, and, much to Tess’s surprise, Paige is guarding her and Azzi is on Te-Hina.

Raven dribbles, directing the other four on the court while trying to keep the ball far away from Kaitlyn, but the congestion becomes too much and she passes it to Te-Hina. Azzi’s defense is relentless, too, and eventually, Te-Hina passes to Sania, who passes to Tess on the wing, and she knows she can’t get crafty. She and Paige spent the entire summer in the gym together. Paige knows her moves as well as she knows her own, which is why she keeps pressing her further and further away from the three point line and Jana angles herself to clog her lane to the bucket. The clock is winding down, so she makes the decision to squeeze past Paige, driving to the bucket, but at the last moment, she passes it behind her back to where she knows Sania is waiting. She shoots and it swishes in.

The first quarter is incredibly close. Every time South Carolina gets a defensive stop, UConn responds with one of their own. A two-point jumper is countered by a layup, Azzi and Tess go three for three. Tess steals the ball on one possession, although Chloe gives it right back as she tries to get smart on a pass. By the first media timeout, Tess has five points, two assists, and a steal, although UConn leads them 14-12. Both teams take the time to sub out and let some of the starters rest. Bree, Ashlyn, MiLaysia, and Joyce come in for Tess, Chloe, Te-Hina, and Sania respectively while KK, Aubrey, Ashlynn, and Ice enter for Kaitlyn, Sarah, Azzi, and Jana.

Once play resumes, Tess almost immediately understands the game plan. Raven guards Paige on UConn’s offensive possessions, but when South Carolina has the ball, Paige guards MiLaysia, a high scoring guard just like Tess. Depending on who is on the floor, KK or Kaitlyn defend Raven or whoever is running point for South Carolina at the time. Raven’s defense is suffocating, but most of all, exhausting – tasking someone else with guarding Raven gives Paige more opportunities to score rather than tire herself out, but her own defensive assignments are focused on shutting down South Carolina’s point producing guards. Tess was held to five points with Paige on her, shooting only two out of her five attempted shots. She wasn’t completely useless, though – she held Azzi to six points, congesting two of the four shots she took.

She sits for the rest of the first quarter. The score is up to 25-20 in UConn’s favor and all of the starters are back on the court for the second quarter. It’s hard fought, too. There’s not a lot of foul calls going either way tonight, but the lead is so slim that Tess doesn’t want to overstep on defense and give away points. At 31-24 in favor of UConn, Paige is subbed out for KK, which means Tess finally gets a bit of a breather on defense. KK is unrelenting, but Paige had played a little closer, a much tighter game as she knew Tess so well as a player. She couldn’t even be mad about that, although she did take advantage of two back-to-back threes, pushing the score to 34-30. UConn still has a slight lead, but Paige gets subbed back in. Tess knows she has to play smarter now and take better shots.

Halfway through the second quarter, Raven gets subbed out for a breather, too, and UConn immediately puts the pressure on Maddy, not used to the intensity that the UConn starters were playing with. Kaitlyn forces a turnover, sailing it high to Paige, who lays it in the basket with ease and winks at Tess as she passes her to get back on defense. In response, Tess calls for the ball and Maddy passes it to her. She doesn’t call for a screen or any sort of help as she steps back, shooting for three directly over Paige’s head. They watch it both fall in seamlessly, much to the crowd’s amusement, and Tess sticks up her fingers in an ‘L’ shape as she backpedals for defense. Paige shakes her head, amused, but at 41-38, the both of them know they need to lock back in.

The two teams trade a few more shots and stops before the end of the quarter, entering half with 47-41, UConn leading. Paige also hit a nasty buzzer beater to welcome in halftime, which sent the UConn bench and the crowd into a frenzy, but Tess doesn’t think that’s something important to note. Paige doesn’t need the ego boost and it wasn’t that cool, anyways. If Tess wanted to, she could have had a better buzzer beater.

In the locker room, Coach Staley emphasizes the need for defensive stops while the team catches their breath. Ball movement and being selective with shooting was also important – as a team, they were shooting 39% and taking far too many contested shots when there were wide open players on the wing. Tess honestly couldn’t be doing much more – she’d racked up 16 points. Joyce and Te-Hina were doing their thing too, but UConn was overwhelming. Their points were far more widespread with Aubrey, Sarah, Azzi, and Paige leading the pack. Ashlynn had two crucial three point shots, KK was critical on defense as she was forcing turnovers and fastbreak points, and Tess has never seen anyone hustle for rebounds like Morgan does. UConn was playing a cohesive game and they were struggling to respond in full.

The second half goes similar to the first, although UConn starts to make a concerted effort to break away. They’re playing with a renewed vigor and while Azzi, Paige, and Ashlynn were crucial in the first half, they start scoring a lot more points in the paint. Sarah, Jana, and Aubrey are particularly explosive and Ice holds her own when she subs in halfway through the third to give Jana a break. Defensively, they’re all restless – they’d played so conservatively in the first half while South Carolina tried to wear them out that their energy is overwhelming and is exhausting South Carolina. By the end of the third, UConn had extended the lead to 67-56. Tess is up to 26 points now, but it’s not doing enough to clear the deficit.

All of the starters are back on the floor at the beginning of the fourth for one last push, and for a while, it works. South Carolina holds out UConn and they go on a 9-0 scoring run, evening the score to 67-65 with three minutes left. Paige hits a long three, increasing the lead to five points, Azzi forces Te-Hina to turn the ball over and she sprints for the basket, although she passes behind her to Sarah for the finish, and Tess is a little too strong on her three point jumper and it bounces off the rim directly into Kaitlyn’s hands. She scores, pushing the score to 74-65. One minute, thirty seconds left.

The last bit of the game is frantic. Tess and South Carolina try to get the lead back, but UConn is unrelenting, pushing against them on every possession. Jana scores. Sania scores. Kaitlyn shoots, but Raven blocks it. Chloe scores on the fastbreak, and with twenty seconds left, the game is up to 78-69 with UConn steady in the lead. There’s no coming back from this gap and UConn has the ball. Tess thinks Paige just plans on dribbling it out, but as the clock winds down, five…four…three…two… she shoots from the perimeter, the shot clock expiring, and the last three, the nail on the head, swishes in cleanly as the crowd erupts. UConn had just won the 2025 national championship, and all Tess feels is overwhelming relief.

Confetti pours down, covering every inch of the court as all of the Huskies swarm and pile on one another. Paige’s smile is bright, beaming, and Tess swears she can see the tears streaming from afar. Then, they lock eyes, Paige in the middle of a bunch of jostling, and she has the decency to look a little sad for her, but honestly, Tess doesn’t care. She grins at her girlfriend, making a heart with her hands. The relief is palpable on Paige’s expression but Tess knows she needs the time to celebrate with her teammates, so she turns away, patting her own teammates on the back and murmuring her own congratulations.

Sania and Joyce were explosive in the paint. A vast majority of their points had come from them and Tess, but it just wasn’t enough to beat the deficit. Tess would find the stat sheet later, but she racked up 31 points – 61 in two back to back championship games wasn’t too shabby, and honestly, the 31 points feels more like an accomplishment than the win. She’s a competitor, she lives to win and loathes losing, but tonight doesn’t feel like a loss at all, despite what the box score will say. Looking back at everything she’s accomplished, she’s satisfied where she is. She’s grown as a player, as a person. She went from almost being the cause of her end in her junior year to dragging herself out of the deep end, committing to rehab, and winning the natty on the redemption match. This year, she molded herself into a better basketball player, cementing herself in the Gamecock record books – and while she doesn’t have a natty win this year, she’s not mad about it. It’s difficult to describe but at a certain point, the win just doesn’t matter anymore. It’s the journey, growing with your team, and everything you did leading up to it.

Last year, she said she has everything she’s ever wanted, and that much is still true. She has her rings, she has an excellent collegiate career, she has records that will be damn near impossible to beat until the next Tess Kennedy is recruited to South Carolina. She has the best friends in the world, the best girlfriend in the world, her knee is healed, she’s healed, and in less than two weeks, she’ll be drafted to play professionally wherever the wind takes her. The past two years have been the best and the worst time of her life but never will she ever wish that anything occurred differently. It’s all led her to this – her wins, her losses, to Paige. It’s more than she could have ever wished for.

She showers, zones out during the presser until the questions are directed at her, which she answers robotically, uncaring. When she’s out, she locates Paige in the tunnel, who scoops her up with such unadulterated glee and excitement that Tess giggles like a fucking schoolgirl. Paige is fresh, clean, and fuck it, she’s hers, and sue her if she sounds like a broken record, but she just loves her. “Congrats, baby,” Tess says into her neck, feeling Paige squeeze her around the middle before she lowers her to the ground.

“Thank you,” Paige murmurs as she presses a soft, unhurried kiss to Tess’s lips. “Promise you didn’t sell on purpose?”

Tess scoffs, shoving her away with a hand to her chest as Paige laughs, a sound that’s infectious and far too annoyingly charming. “Paige Madison. I dropped 31 on your ass and you think I sold?”

“Locked you down,” Paige says.

“Maybe romantically but not in basketball,” Tess corrects. Paige’s face brightens and Tess can’t help but lean in to kiss her again. “Congrats though, for real.” Paige’s eyes blink open, tilting her head down slightly to gaze at Tess, her expression full of lingering excitement, love, and unequivocal happiness. “You worked so hard for this. I’m proud of you, you know? 28 points, too? Who you showin’ out for?”

Paige laughs at Tess’s impression of her. “For you, always.” Tess can’t help but soften, grinning in that stupid way Paige always elicits. “We’re goin’ out,” she says. “The team, I mean. Some bar Aubrey found. You wanna come with us? You don’t gotta do nothing you don’t wanna and they’re all keepin’ it lowkey, nothin’ crazy–”

“Paige,” Tess interrupts, watching an adorable flush appear on Paige’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about me. Celebrate with your team, okay?”

“I’m always gonna worry about you,” Paige says, a little indignant. “You’re my girl. S’my job. But I want you there if you wanna be there.”

“You’re amazing, and I love you.”

Paige sighs. “Where’s the ‘but?’”

Tess rolls her eyes. “But you need to spend time with your team. Alone, without your unbelievably sexy girlfriend distracting you. You’re gonna miss them once you’re drafted. I need to chill tonight, so I’m gonna play UNO with my girls and stack +4s on Chloe to get her back for missing a layup that would have made our score look a little less pathetic.” Tess kisses the pout off of Paige’s lips. “I could convince Bree to room with Raven tonight?” she suggests intentionally.

“Okay!” Paige agrees quickly, her voice cracking, squeezing Tess’s hips once more, causing her to laugh lightly. Paige presses her lips to Tess’s forehead, the shorter of the two feeling the curve of her smirk. “I’ll see you later. Don’t fall asleep. I love you.”

Tess huffs, which makes Paige grin. She loves being on Tess’s nerves more than anything else. “I love you, too. Have fun and don’t drink anything KK gives you.”

Paige only shakes her head, their noses brushing slightly. “Not drinking. Wanna remember tonight.” Heat rises to Tess’s cheeks as she’s suddenly aware of what the night holds for them, but Paige just smiles at her, releasing her hips and squeezing her hand one last time before she disappears inside the media room for the presser. Tess exhales, shaking her head like an etch-a-sketch to fix her train of thought before she gathers herself and makes her way out to the team bus.

She slides into the seat next to Bree, placing her bag on the floor. “You’re rooming with Raven tonight,” Tess says to her.

Bree stares at her long and hard before her expression hardens. “You’re a fucking freak,” she gripes. “But you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow morning.” In lieu of a response, Tess pulls her wallet out of her pocket and hands over a $20 bill. Bree wrinkles her nose, her face going through the five stages of grief. Tess can’t even bring herself to feel ashamed as Bree takes the money. “God,” she whispers. “Freaks.”

Tess only smiles.

After a couple hours of music and various games, Tess says her final goodbyes to her teammates before she heads back to her room at the end of the hall. Paige had texted her only moments before that she was on her way back to the hotel, which she took as her cue to go. Her teammates gave her knowing looks, but Tess couldn’t find it in herself to be any sort of embarrassed.

Bree had cleared out most of her stuff before they all gathered in Raven’s room for games, but Tess just makes the conscious effort to clean up a little. She knew Paige wouldn’t care. Whether or not Bree’s bed was made would be the last thing on Paige’s mind if Tess had anything to say about it. Despite that, she just wanted it to look nicer for her. Paige had just won a championship, damn it, and she deserves something a little more fitting of that.

Tess isn’t nervous, but she’s almost giddy with anticipation and excitement. The last time she and Paige saw each other was when they played each other in February. They were unable to synchronize their schedules for spring break, so Tess is reasonably going through girlfriend withdrawals. She just wants to be close to Paige – nothing inherently sexual about it, but she misses their intimacy now that they’re always hundreds of miles apart. It will be the same situation when they get drafted – Tess watched the lottery despite everyone’s recommendations not to, but they’ll have a little bit more money and freedom to make the distance work once they’re in the league. But the league is the last thing she wants to worry about right now.

She checks herself one last time in the mirror, satisfied, but she pulls off her South Carolina hoodie, shivering a little at the chill in the room, and rummages through her suitcase until she finds the white jersey tucked underneath the rest of her clothes. A large 5 is emblazoned on the front and the back, the Big East logo on the collar, just a size too big for her – she’d stolen it directly from Paige’s bag when they played each other in February and they hung out after the game, but she supposes her lie was just convincing enough because Paige genuinely thought she left it in the locker room. She pulls the hoodie over her head, not bothering to tuck it into her sleep shorts, and gives herself one last look before smiling.

A knock at the door draws her attention. Finding her resolve, she walks over and opens it, coming face to face with Paige, whose cheeks are slightly flushed from the Tampa heat. “Hey – oh.” Paige stops in her tracks immediately, her eyes wide as she takes in Tess’s attire. Her jaw hangs open slightly as she leans against the door.

Tess laughs, reaching for Paige’s hands and pulling her inside. Paige lets herself be dragged, but she remembers where they are and closes the door, setting the lock without looking away from Tess. “You like?” Tess asks, tugging on the hem of the jersey to showcase Paige’s number. She smiles at Paige, a little smug but also a little breathless. Paige isn’t sure where to look – her face, her jersey, her legs, long and lithe and bare with the exception of a pair of shorts that would otherwise be indecent. “Figured I’d try something new.”

“Do I like?” Paige repeats, sounding a little incredulous. Her voice is rough and Tess shivers, feeling the heat pool low in her belly as Paige rests her hands on her hips, her fingertips brushing the swell of her ass. She pulls Tess into her until there’s barely an inch of space in between them – Tess can feel Paige breathing against her, her breath minty and fresh, her cologne so prominent and heady in the air that Tess’s head spins. “Like doesn’t even begin to cover it,” she murmurs, her lips dragging across the line of Tess’s jaw. Tess tilts her head back, giving Paige more access as she sighs softly. Paige’s fingers bunch in the fabric of her jersey as she noses her way down her neck, pressing wet kisses to her skin. A groan builds low in the back of her throat as she pulls away, her eyes blown wide and slightly out of breath. “D’you have any idea what this does to me?”

Tess chuckles, letting Paige lead her towards the bed, trusting her to not let her fall over. “I think I’m starting to understand,” she says. Paige smiles at her, softening the heat of the moment. Tess can’t help the grin that covers her face as she pulls Paige on top of her, sliding her zip up UConn jacket off of her shoulders. Paige situates herself in the gap created by Tess’s outstretched legs, leaning down to finally press their lips together. Their kiss is tender, lingering, and slow; Paige is deliberate in the way her hand slips under Tess’s jersey, her fingers brushing against her skin, and Tess sighs against her. They part and the expression on Paige’s face is so soft, blissed out like she has everything she’s ever wanted right in front of her. That thought alone fills Tess with an overwhelming amount of love and appreciation that she can’t help her starstruck smile. “You played really well today,” she whispers, working her fingers against Paige’s hair tie as she loosens her braids.

Paige hums, her eyes closing when Tess’s fingers drag across her scalp. “Says you,” she retorts, her head dropping to Tess’s shoulder. Her lips find her neck again, nipping gently and soothing the bite with a pass of her tongue. “31 fuckin’ points?” Paige emphasizes her words with an emphatic groan, her hands pushing up Tess’s jersey and her fingertips just barely breaching under her bra strap. “You tryna go to Dallas?”

Tess laughs, tangling her fingers through Paige’s hair as the blonde hides her smile against her neck. “Nah. That’s all you. I’m very happy going number two.”

Paige scoffs. “Yeah, ‘cause you get Cam and Rickea.”

Tess smiles knowingly, rolling her eyes. “Your hand is literally under my shirt and you wanna talk about other people right now?” Paige glances down, her brows raising and her eyes lingering on just how far the jersey is bunched up, miles upon miles of Tess’s tanned skin on display.

“Take this shit off,” she says, hands reaching for the hem of the jersey. Tess raises her arms compliantly and Paige pulls it over her head, throwing it to the side before leaning down and connecting their lips again. Tess relaxes immediately, circling her arms around Paige’s neck, drawing her in closer and closer until the space between them is negligible. Paige’s hands are warm against her bare skin. One leaves her chest to cup her jaw, her lips slowing, controlling the pace. Every motion is purposeful, deep and lingering, until Paige pulls back just enough that her nose brushes against Tess’s. “Wanna take my time with you.”

“You won,” Tess reminds her, fighting through the burn on her cheeks as Paige presses open-mouthed kisses to her neck, her jaw. “Tonight’s for you.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees, her mind clearly elsewhere as she pulls her shirt over her head. Tess’s mouth dries instantly, her gaze unashamed as she takes in Paige’s toned figure, the definition of her abs despite the softness of her stomach. She’s equal parts sinew and grace, beautiful beyond any human measurement – Tess would never be able to put Paige’s beauty into words. She transcends language and meaning and Tess is so irrevocably in love that it should scare her; her feelings are overwhelming in the best way possible and Paige doesn’t even know the extent of it.

“Paige,” Tess tries again, her hands reaching up to push Paige’s hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, her hand returning to Tess’s jaw as she kisses her again, taking the very breath from her lungs and relishing in the sigh that she pulls from her throat. Her hand slips lower, her thumb brushing the apple of her throat while her index finger rests on her pulse point, feeling the spike in her heart rate. “Wanna take care of you,” Paige murmurs, the plea evident in her expression when she pulls away. “Want this to last, wanna feel you. Please?” She dips lower, her lips pressing against her skin, and Tess doesn’t have any choice but to let Paige have her way. She nods, her hands finding purchase on Paige’s shoulder blades as Paige descends further, her lips leaving marks over her clavicles.

Paige undresses the both of them with a deliberate slowness. Her hands roam like she’s trying to commit every inch of Tess’s body to memory, her eyes wide in wonder. Paige stares at her like it’s the first time all over again and it makes Tess shiver, feeling warmth all over. They spent the entire offseason together, late nights in hotel rooms much like this one as they travelled. They’re far from the first time, but the fact that Paige still handles her with the utmost care, respect, and devotion only makes her needier.

When they’re both bare, the first press of Paige’s skin against her own is electrifying. She draws Paige in again, connecting their lips, relishing in the soft, unhurried push and pull as Paige’s hands roam. They’re firm around her hips, her thumbs brushing the area where her thighs meet her pelvis. Then they’re trailing up, brushing against her navel, gripping her love handles and the parts of her stomach where she’s more skin than muscle. Further up, Paige’s hands splay out across the lower end of her ribcage. The amount of skin that her hands cover makes Tess ache, but Paige keeps wandering, her hands cupping her breasts, thumbs tweaking her nipples. Tess sighs at the contact and Paige immediately takes advantage of the way her jaw drops, deepening their kiss as Tess holds on to her shoulders for stability.

She can feel the flex of Paige’s muscle, see the way her shoulder blades jut out slightly – it shouldn’t excite her, but it does. She’s firm, solid, soft, and human, a paradox and a myriad of different feelings. Tess can’t help but be attracted to every single thing she does and every single thing she is. God took his time creating Paige, that much Tess was sure of; the fact that Paige is hers, for better, for worse, forever, makes her feel like she needs to be far more thankful than she already is.

Paige pulls back. Tess nearly whines at the loss of contact until she takes in the blown out and messy look on Paige’s face. Her lips are swollen, spit-slick, covered in the lingering smear of Tess’s lip gloss. “Okay?” she asks, her voice rough. The check-in is just a reminder of how much Paige loves her. It never fails to make her heart beat out of her chest.

Tess nods, her hands coming up to smooth out the baby hairs at the back of Paige’s neck, damp with sweat. “Keep going,” she requests, closing her eyes when she feels Paige kiss her cheek, her jaw, the spot under her ear that makes her shiver.

“Wanna try something with you,” she murmurs, squeezing her around the hips, and Tess blinks her eyes open to stare at her. A new, shy sort of flush creeps up her neck and Tess gives her a reassuring kiss.

“Anything,” she says, her voice soft, albeit a little breathless. “You know I trust you.”

Paige glances up, searching her eyes for any hint of falsehood. When she finds none, she leans in, kissing Tess one last time before pulling back. “Tell me to stop and I will,” she says. Tess nods again, waiting with a bated breath as Paige pulls back completely, much to her chagrin, but her hands find her knees, spreading her legs wider, slotting her own legs under and over Tess’s thighs like puzzle pieces, and – Oh. They haven’t even made full contact but her entire body burns. Paige is just as red, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. “Okay?” she asks again, her words sounding a little choked.

Tess nods rapidly, not trusting herself to speak, but her words spill out anyway. “Please,” she says, looping her arms around her neck again. Paige nods, too, her breath a little shaky, but she connects their lips, swallowing the greedy sound that Tess makes when their cores finally align. Her fingers dig into Paige’s shoulders, eliciting a groan from the blonde as she rolls her hips experimentally. Paige is warm against her, slick against her skin, and the brush of her clit against her own nearly makes her soul leave her body.

Her head tilts back, overcome with euphoria and pleasure, and Paige takes advantage immediately. Her lips are on her neck before she has the chance to react, sucking dark, purple marks on her skin, soothing the sting with her tongue. Tess pushes her hips into Paige’s, causing her rhythm to falter and a whine to fall from her lips. Tess really likes that sound, when Paige succumbs to the feelings and lets her hear it. “Fuck,” Paige whimpers. “That’s it.”

That sends a wave of heat directly to Tess’s core. She ruts up again, relishing in Paige’s exhaled moan, the way her elbows shake as she tries to hold herself up. Each and every roll of her hips adds to the tightening band in her stomach, threatening to snap as her pleasure builds – but it feels like she’s reached a plateau. She pushes against her a little faster, trying to chase the high, which forces more of those sounds to tumble from Paige’s mouth. The feel of her skin against hers, sticky with sweat, is intoxicating in the best way possible; the roll of her hips sets her nerves on fire; and when she glances down, her eyes honing in on where their bodies connect, Tess grips her shoulders a little tighter as she cries out, her nails leaving marks in their wake. “Paige,” she gasps, feeling Paige’s nose brush against her collarbone, licking the salt off of her skin. “Talk, please.”

“Yeah?” she asks, her voice a little broken and high-pitched as she holds out, trying to make Tess reach her peak first. The sound of her so wrecked, so destroyed makes Tess tremble beneath her. “Wanted you to – fuck, wanted you to come with me earlier,” she babbles. Tess barely registers that she means the bar. “Wanted to show you off. Tell everyone you’re mine. Wanted to kiss you in front of everyone, take you back here – fuck, Tess, right there – take you back here and show you how much I want you.”

“Keep going, please,” she begs. Tears of pleasure bead at her waterline. The brush of their cunts and the whine in Paige’s voice makes her dizzy with desire.

Paige sighs, the sound getting trapped in her throat as her lips find her ear, her ruts becoming a little more desperate. And when Tess’s hips jump up again, seeking out that pleasure, Paige’s breath catches. She leans her head against Tess’s shoulder, her body tense with the effort of trying to stay composed. “God, there you go,” she murmurs, her breath fanning against the shell of her ear. “Take it, baby, whatever you need – gonna give it to you, I promise.”

Tess whimpers, her grip tightening as she rolls her hips against Paige’s, her pleasure building and nearing the peak as she confesses, “Paige, I’m gonna–”

“That’s it,” Paige whimpers, meeting Tess’s hips with more purpose, more intensity, guiding her closer and closer. When Paige keens into her ear, her voice cracking, “Fuck, I love you – so perfect for me,” Tess falls apart completely, clutching onto Paige as her orgasm washes over her. Paige is right behind her; Tess can feel her release, her body shuddering against her own. They rock together as they ease through the aftershocks, drawing back when the sensitivity becomes too much.

Carefully, Paige extracts herself from Tess, the both of them exhaling when they disconnect. Paige rolls onto the bed next to her, her head finding home on Tess’s chest as she slings an arm across her stomach. Neither of them say anything for a while, sitting in a satisfied silence as they try to catch their breaths. It’s Tess who finally breaks the quiet when she says, “I think you ruined me.”

That makes Paige laugh, still breathless. She cocks her head, meeting Tess’s eyes. Gingerly, she wipes away the tears on her cheeks, smooths out the hair at the crown of her head. “Good,” she murmurs, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to Tess’s lips, a stark contrast from the moment prior. “Gotta trap you so you stay with me forever.”

Tess snorts, brushing her nails against Paige’s jaw and cheek gently. “Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that.” Paige hums, her fingertips tracing patterns against her ribcage as their breathing finally evens out. A few moments pass. “Are you sleeping?” Tess asks, a little shy.

“Yes,” Paige deadpans, but she turns her head again, smiling up at Tess. Her expression is soft, relaxed, blissed out. “What’s up?”

Tess can’t help the smile that breaks out across her face. “I love you,” she says simply.

Paige’s entire demeanor brightens. She tightens her grip around Tess’s middle, drawing in closer and pressing her lips to her chest, directly over her heart. “I love you, too.”

Tess tangles her fingers in Paige’s hair, smoothing out the flyaway strands near her temple. Paige smiles against her, her face tranquil, happy. In a little over a week from now, they’ll be in Brooklyn together for the 2025 draft. They’ll be selected to play in the professional league, which is everything they’ve dreamed of and more, although their dreams have expanded to include each other. Tess has everything she’s ever wanted in life – an outstanding college career, a promising future, Paige, and she can’t wait for the rest of their lives together.

APRIL 14, 2025

Tess can’t believe this is her life right now.

She, her parents, and Bree and Raven are sitting at a table in the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the selected venue for the 2025 WNBA Draft. The energy in the atmosphere is electric – there’s muted chatter, excited hopefuls trying not to freak out about which team will be selecting them. Tess is a mixture of anticipation and nerves. She’s been the predicted number two draft pick for months now, only second to Paige, which she can’t even be upset by. She has a pretty good idea of where she’s going, but she can’t help being worried about dropping in the rankings – the 2025 draft class is full of young talent. She wouldn’t mind Chicago. Playing with Kam again would be amazing, and Washington isn’t bad, either. She is really interested in the Liberty, mostly because they made such a good impression on her during rehab and that’s not something she would ever forget. Unfortunately, the Liberty decided to do the worst possible thing ever and win a championship, which means they’re nowhere close to getting Tess unless they want to trade up and Tess highly doubts they’d be willing to part with their entire roster just for her.

Tess can’t keep her eyes off of Paige. It’s slowly becoming a recurring theme as of late, much to the chagrin of everyone around her, but she can’t help it. She sits only a table away, surrounded by Bob, Amy, Drew, Lauren, and Ryan. The happiness is evident on her face, her hair done up in a ponytail with two loose strands framing her face, and her make-up natural. The real nail on the coffin is the tailored suit she’s wearing. It’s a dark purple in color, nearly black; several buttons on the blazer are undone to reveal the sharp lines of her clavicle and the dark shades of her undershirt. A chain glimmers around her neck, rings adorning her fingers, including the rose thumb ring Tess had gifted her for their first Christmas, before they knew they loved each other. Tess is honestly too much of an overachiever – she picked the finest person in the world to be her girlfriend and now the repercussions of that are coming back to bite her in the ass.

Her stylist – well, Paige’s stylist, Brittany Hampton is the goat – did her big one, too. Brittany has her decked out in a rich, dark, glossy, blue satin dress. Much like Paige’s suit, the shade is dark enough that it almost appears black, but the blue hue sticks out, complementing her complexion perfectly. Her heels match (and most importantly, they’re tall enough that she and Paige are finally eye level). Her jewelry is minimalist, donning her signature bracelet and their charms, along with a gorgeous necklace Paige had bought her for their second Christmas together – the first as an official couple. The both of them look good, probably too good, and Tess is preparing herself to cut someone if they stare at Paige for too long.

Her family and friends try to make small talk to distract her from the looming draft, but her heart isn’t in the conversation. Her mind runs a mile a minute; she’s thinking about all of the iterations of the mock draft – honestly, she should have listened to Paige when she told her not to watch the draft lottery or get too invested in the draft talk, anyhow. She’s thinking about Paige, how she looks so gorgeous at her table; she’s thinking about how Paige’s dreams are coming true right before her and that chokes her up a little bit. Paige was a little kid once, just like her, dribbling a ball that was nearly as big as she was – now she’s here, the predicted number one pick and it just feels like everything’s coming into fruition. They’ve both worked incredibly hard for this, all of the trials and tribulations and injuries and miscommunication – they’re here, together, and Tess couldn’t dream of anything better than that.

Finally, the beginning of the draft rolls around as the WNBA commissioner, Cathy Engelbert, steps up to the podium for opening remarks. Tess motions to wipe her sweaty hands on her dress, but Bree’s gripping her wrists and pushing a small handcloth into her waiting palms. Bree knows her so well and Tess gives her a silent nod of thanks, a small smile. She doesn’t think she’s quite made her peace with the fact she’s leaving her girls behind after today. Training camps and final roster deliberations and the preseason all await, but Bree’s rubbing her shoulder and murmuring, “Soak it in, babe, we’re so proud of you,” and she thinks that maybe she’s on the right track.

Cathy leaves the podium to await the official first pick. Tess glances at Paige again, who is clearly dissociated as she tries to not look at the cameras that are obviously pointing at her. Then, she glances over, her eyes finding Tess’s. Her entire demeanor shifts and a bright smile spreads across her face. It’s scrunchy, somehow both soft and mischievous, but Tess knows her well enough by now to understand that smile is reserved for her only. KK called it her “Tess smile” which was a little ridiculous, but when Tess returns her grin, the love clear as day in her expression, she knows that KK’s observation had a little merit.

Cathy returns with the pick in hand. The entire room falls silent, waiting with a bated breath as the older woman leans into the microphone. “With the first pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Dallas Wings select…Paige Bueckers, University of Connecticut.”

The room breaks into applause immediately as the tears spring to Tess’s eyes, overcome with emotion and appreciation for her girlfriend. Paige stands, embracing her parents, her siblings, and then she’s stepping towards Tess’s table, her expression so grateful and a little awestruck. Tess reminds herself that they’re in front of thousands of people, in front of prominent WNBA players and coaches as she molds herself into Paige’s arms, keeping it classy as Paige squeezes her tightly around her waist. “God, I’m so proud of you,” Tess murmurs, feeling Paige’s shoulders shake a little bit with her emotions. “I love you. Go get your jersey.”

Paige huffs out a laugh, releasing Tess as she wipes at her waterline. “I love you. See you soon,” she says, winking at her, which makes Tess chuckle, taking a seat and watching Paige make her way to the stage. Tess pulls out her phone, taking photo after photo as Paige poses with the commissioner and the Wings jersey.

Holly Rowe talks her through a couple of interview questions, her responses making the crowd aww or applaud, and soon enough, she’s returning to her table, embracing her family once more and smiling gently at Tess. Cathy returns to the podium after allowing the allotted time for the next selection.

“With the second pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Los Angeles Sparks select…Tess Kennedy, University of South Carolina.”

Tess doesn’t register it at first until her family and friends are cheering, their applause loud, and Tess finally snaps back into reality as she stands with an elated, shocked laugh. She pulls Raven and Bree into her arms, her teammates whispering their congratulations before her parents pull her into bone-crushing embraces. And finally, she makes her way to Paige’s table – she was polite for Paige’s pick, but this is different now; it’s hers and after what she’s been through, she can’t find it in herself to care much for what’s proper. She throws herself into Paige’s arms, squeezing tight enough that anyone else would have complained, but Paige holds onto her with the same intensity as she murmurs, “So proud of you, baby. You and me, huh?”

Tess laughs, the sound tearful. “You and me,” she affirms, releasing her girlfriend, and she makes her way up to the podium where Cathy holds out the yellow and purple jersey to her. She takes it, her fingers trembling a little.

When she makes it down, the reporter waiting for her isn’t Holly Rowe. She’s blonde, radiant, and shorter than Tess, but Tess gets the strangest feeling like she knows her. She glances down at the lanyard around her neck, the media pass reading P. LANCASTER. Tess grins. “Tess, you were just selected number two overall for the 2025 WNBA Draft. Can you tell me what was going through your mind leading up to the pick?”

“Um, ‘don’t throw up,’” she answers honestly. Her candor makes the crowd laugh. She chuckles, feeling some of the pressure ease off of her as she gives a proper answer, the usual ‘I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I was a kid,’ and ‘I’m so grateful to be here and this is an honor that I don’t take lightly.’

The reporter talks her through a few more questions, such as how excited she is to be working with the Sparks. Between Cameron and Rickea, Tess feels like she’s in good hands, and knowing that Lynne Roberts, the new head coach, is a huge fan of three-point shooting, she feels like there’s a lot she can bring to the team. The reporter asks a fluff question about getting used to the Los Angeles heat, to which Tess jokingly responds with, “Well, I hear Dallas is hotter.” That makes a small smile appear on the reporter’s face.

“Speaking of Dallas,” she segues, which makes a knowing smile spread across Tess’s face. “Your girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, was just drafted there. The two of you met twice in national championships in college – can we expect some exciting match-ups between the two of you in the W?”

“Of course,” Tess says coyly. “We’re 1-1 on championship wins right now. I’m looking to add a couple more of those to my resume, and if that means beating my girlfriend? Even better.”

Penelope Lancaster thanks her for her time as the crowd applauds once more. Tess makes her way back to her table, smiling smugly at Paige, who rolls her eyes, but the love in her expression is hard to hide. The rest of the draft passes in a blur, as does the afterparty they’re both invited to afterwards. It’s well past midnight when they leave the club, their hair a mess from dancing and Paige’s blazer settled over Tess’s shoulders to stave off the late night chill. Paige already has an Uber called to take them back to Tess’s parents’ house and she pulls Tess into her side as they wait outside.

There’s something so magical about the night, about the energy in the atmosphere. The bass from the music reverberates and Paige sings along to whatever rap song is playing from inside, her body warm against Tess’s, and she finds that she suddenly can’t take it anymore. The overwhelming emotion in her chest, ready to burst at the seams, the sheer happiness and hope and gratitude that seeps from every pore in her body. She wraps both of her arms around Paige’s waist, resting her head over her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. Paige quiets down, a little confused, but she melts into their embrace until there’s no air left between them.

Tess doesn’t know how to put it into words – she doesn’t think she ever will. She’s so in love, even after a year together officially. There was a point in her life where she didn’t think she’d be here. She didn’t think she would be able to heal, that she would be able to play basketball again, that she would be drafted to pursue her dream professionally. She never thought romance was in the cards for her, that she would ever find someone like Paige – that she would find Paige herself; she never thought she would be in love or that someone would be in love with her, too. It’s surreal, encompassing, and call her cheesy or down bad or whatever, but she can’t wait to live life with Paige.

“You okay?” Paige asks softly, her fingers trailing up and down Tess’s back soothingly.

“I’m perfect,” Tess responds, smiling against Paige’s skin. “I just love you.”

Paige’s hand leaves her back, but it’s not long before she’s cupping Tess’s cheek and drawing her closer to her until their lips touch. It’s soft, unhurried, a promise. It’s just as electric as the first time, as warm, as perfect. Paige breaks away long enough to whisper “I love you, too,” and then she’s sweeping back in, kissing Tess with the vow of forever. When she first met Paige, almost two years ago, she’d told her that home was a feeling. Right here, wrapped up in Paige’s arms, kissing her under the streetlight as they get ready to walk into what is the beginning of their life together, Tess knows in her heart that she’s finally made it home.

‘Happily Ever Draft-er’

In April of 2025, the Dallas Wings and the Los Angeles Sparks drafted Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy first and second overall. Every basketball fan knew that Bueckers and Kennedy were sure bets for the top two picks. If there was one thing that the WNBA season could promise us, it was the match-ups between Bueckers and Kennedy – they certainly came around more often than they did when Bueckers and Kennedy were in college. They sold out arenas with many fans vying to see their clash, and they did not disappoint. Each game was intense, hard fought until the very last second.

In their rookie year, Bueckers and Kennedy helped lead their teams to the playoffs, although they both fell short – the Wings lost 2-0 to the Aces, while the Sparks lost 2-1 to the Liberty. In their second year, the Wings forged ahead to the semi-finals where they lost 3-2 to the Fever whereas the Sparks were defeated by the Sun 2-0 in the first round. Their third year was the complete opposite – the Wings lost to the Valkyries 2-1 in the first round, although the Sparks lost 3-1 to the Lynx in the semi-finals.

Their fourth year, the last of their rookie contracts, was long anticipated. In the first round of the playoffs, the Wings defeated the Storm in a clean 2-0 sweep. Similarly, the Sparks sent the Dream packing 2-0. Then, in the semi-finals, the Wings plowed through the Lynx 3-2 while the Sparks dominated the Fever 3-1. The finals match that everyone had been waiting for – the Wings versus the Sparks was underway. This would be the first year that the WNBA implemented a 7 game series.

The WNBA finals were back and forth. The Sparks took home the first win, the Wings took home the second and the third, although the Sparks bounced back with the fourth and the fifth. The Wings beat the Sparks on their sixth game in an overtime thriller, tying the series 3-3 and forcing a game seven. Bueckers and Kennedy were electric on the court, averaging 30 points in the postseason, but ultimately, the Sparks won the WNBA championship.

When approached for a comment, Kennedy stated, “Well, Paige won Rookie of the Year, so I think it’s fitting that I get a ring first.” Bueckers, who was standing next to her, rolled her eyes, but she seemed smug, as though she had another trick up her sleeve. Kennedy continued, “We’re free agents, so who knows who’s winning the chip after this.”

Bueckers did, in fact, have another trick up her sleeve as it was announced early in the offseason that she and Kennedy had gotten engaged in Italy, close to Kennedy’s hometown. Bueckers shared their engagement photos on her Instagram, captioning it, “Her favorite ring of them all 💍”. Shortly after, Bueckers and Kennedy shared their free agency picks – they’d both landed with the Golden State Valkyries alongside 2026 Rookie of the Year Azzi Fudd.

We’re eagerly awaiting the tipoff for the 2029 WNBA season. Bueckers and Kennedy have been rivals for nine years, falling in love despite it all. Finally, for the first time ever, we get to witness the union of the titans rather than their clash. We get to witness a team where Bueckers and Kennedy combine their strengths, and all we have to say is good luck to the rest of the league. The Golden State Valkyries will be a name that we will be hearing for a very long time, especially now that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy have settled down in the Bay and have made San Francisco their home.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

[salmonballsss]

The Violet Hour

(Chapter 8)

You are a young, awkward historian obsessed with the Salem witch trials. One name repeats through obscure documents: Agatha Harkness. She's not supposed to exist anymore. But when you find a book authored in her name and follow the trail to a remote New England town, you're met with a woman who looks nothing like she belongs in your century—and who wants absolutely nothing to do with you…

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Blood.

You woke to the warm feeling of sunlight peeking through the window, shining annoyingly right on your face. You shifted, trying to get it out of your eyes so you could go back to your very dramatic recovery sleep.

But thanks to your idiotic move of summoning a fucking hell beast, even the faintest movement sent a sharp, stabbing pain through your side.

A soft whimper left your lips as you opened your eyes, squinting against the light. And there she was.

Agatha.

Still in the same chair she’d plopped herself down in last night after you—god—begged her not to leave you alone.

Gosh. Did you sound clingy doing that?

Would she understand? Would she laugh? Probably. But maybe—just maybe—she'd get it. Freaking out was fair after, you know, accidentally summoning a monster and nearly dying.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and scanned the room. Agatha's head was lolled back, her arms crossed over her chest.

You felt a little guilty. You were all cozy in her bed, and she was stuck in a damn armchair because you got needy.

You sighed. And okay—why did she look so good just... sitting there?

The quiet sounds of her breathing filled the room, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. She looked softer like this. Kinder. The sharpness smoothed out of her features. Like maybe, if time would just slow down, you could spend a little while watching over her the way she’d done for you.

Unfortunately, the pulsing throb in your side wasn’t interested in tender, poetic moments. It wanted ibuprofen.

You shifted up slightly and wormed your way out of the blankets. There were a lot of them.

Did she tuck you in?

Oh gods, are you seriously getting giddy over being tucked in like a burrito?

Maybe you are going insane in Hollow Wood.

Still, the thought had you biting down a smile.

You huffed out and slowly pushed yourself upright, wincing at the soreness. You attempted a stretch but your wound screamed bloody murder, and you remembered Agatha's very specific warning about tearing the stitches. So you straightened carefully and cast one more glance back at her.

No earrings anymore. Her jeans and white shirt were gone too—now she was in pajama pants and a loose shirt.

When the hell did she get up to change?

You spotted a stray blanket at the foot of the bed and carefully tiptoed over, suddenly aware you didn’t know if Agatha was a light sleeper or not, maybe she had super hearing. Or both. Honestly, with her? Anything was possible.

You didn’t know much about her at all. That part made something in your chest twist.

You hovered beside her for a second, eyes tracing her features. The small signs of age, the faint pinkness to her cheeks while she slept, the way her lashes rested against her skin. She looked peaceful. 

You shook your head—nope. Creeping on Agatha while she slept? Not your best look.

You carefully laid the blanket over her, light enough not to wake her. She stirred a little and you froze, holding your breath. But she just shifted and settled again.

You exhaled quietly.

Still holding your side, you made your way out of the room, each breath shallow, the pain still a steady throb. You were officially on a quest—for painkillers, for something to eat, and maybe, if you were feeling ambitious, some answers.

You slipped through the door and shut it softly behind you.

Once you were out of the room, you looked around—completely clueless. You hadn’t seen this part of the house yet. Only the parts Agatha had let you see.

To your left, the hallway ended with a closed door. To your right, a few more doors lined the walls, and just ahead, you spotted the start of a staircase and a railing. Warm light filtered down from a chandelier above, casting a soft glow over everything. That had to be the main opening.

With slow, careful steps, you made your way over, gripping the railing as you began your descent—one small step at a time. The front door came into view below, and you remembered seeing the kitchen when Agatha had walked you in that first day.

Your feet hit the hardwood and you turned to the right, catching a glimpse of a dining room you hadn’t explored yet. You made a mental note to snoop around later—after you found some medicene. Moving around like this was starting to feel like a terrible life choice.

You wandered into the living room—the same one where you’d oh so brilliantly shoved your finger in Agatha’s face and pushed her hard enough that she told you to leave.

Yeah. Not your best moment.

You moved past the sofa and into the kitchen.

A soft sigh left you. There were a few dishes in the sink, just enough to prove only one person lived here. A single mug. A plate. A pan from whatever she’d cooked. Your stomach growled loudly in protest—it’d been two days since you ate, and the sleep-coma hadn’t exactly helped.

You made your way to one of the cabinets that didn’t look spice lined and opened it, hoping for medicine.

Bowls and plates. Dammit.

You grumbled under your breath, one hand holding your side tighter as the ache intensified. This movement was definitelynot great.

As you searched through Agatha’s kitchen, your mind wandered.

It was so obvious just one person lived here.

Did Agatha ever have people over?

This was your third time here, and two of those times were because she was saving your ass.

But at least she liked you enough to save you?You grinned to yourself, all smug and cheeky.

Then your thoughts took a turn as you opened another cabinet.

Had she ever had a lover? Someone who’d lived here with her?

A strange little pang of jealousy twisted in your gut, and a soft pout crept onto your lips.

Agatha was… well, Agatha. Attractive, mysterious, sharp as hell. There was no way she hadn’t been with someone before.

Had she ever been married? And if so—how’d that end?

Was she a gentle lover? Or… a rougher one?

Your cheeks immediately pinkened at the thought as you opened another cabinet.

Still no meds. 

You sighed, leaning on the counter, wincing. "Where the fuck is the—"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a voice spoke behind you.

“I thought I told you to rest, not snoop around like a mouse.”

You whipped around, clutching your side, heart racing. “Don’t scare me like that!” you huffed, grimacing.

Agatha’s gaze dropped to where your hand pressed against your torso.

“And I wasn’t snooping! I needed more medicine!”

She tsked, rolling her eyes as she stepped forward.

“Do I need to tie you down to get you to sit still for five minutes? Or better yet—put you on a leash?”

You sputtered, face flaming. She had to be joking—but with Agatha, you could never really tell.

“I—pft! N-no!” you ducked your head, turning back to the cabinets, suddenly very interested in continuing your search. No way in hell were you asking her for help now.

A soft hum came from behind you, smug and amused.

“Why don’t you be a good girl,” she purred, “and go back to bed—”

You spun back around, hissing under your breath, trying to keep your expression defiant. “No.”

Agatha’s eyebrows shot up.

She pressed her tongue into the inside of her cheek, and you hated—hated—how hot that was. Your eyes flicked up to hers. Blue. Narrowed. Dark.

“No?” she echoed, tone sharp with challenge.

You mirrored her pose, crossing your arms and standing up straighter, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from making a pathetic little pain sound.

Agatha tilted her head just slightly.

“…Is that your final answer?”

You held her gaze, arms still crossed. “Yup.”

Agatha blinked at you. Slowly. Her lips parted like she was about to say something, but instead, she just let out a long suffering sigh and tilted her head back slightly like she was praying to the ceiling for patience.

“You are a brat ” she muttered.

You give her fasle sweetness “hey thanks!”

Agatha shot you a glare that could’ve melted steel. “You are injured,” she emphasized, gesturing toward your side. “Act like it.”

You instinctively curled your arm tighter around your ribs and glanced down, cheeks burning. “I am acting like it. I’m standing very still.”

“By the stove,” she said dryly. “In my kitchen.”

You shrugged one shoulder, wincing. “Sue me.”

Another long pause. Her eyes raked over you. Not in a nice way—okay, well, maybe a little in a nice way—but mostly in the way someone assesses whether or not to pick you up by the collar and physically move you.

Agatha exhaled again, then finally jabbed a finger toward the living room. “Couch. Now.”

You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“You clearly lack the brain cells required to stay in bed like a sane person, so I’m compromising before you pass out and bleed all over my floor.” She gave you a dry look. “Don’t test your luck further.”

You narrowed your eyes, muttering, “Kind of a dictator, aren’t you?”

You shuffled over to the couch, slowly lowering yourself down with a wince. Your body felt like it had been dragged through hell—and maybe it had. You weren’t exactly sure what that beast had been, but it sure as hell didn’t feel local.

“Ugh,” you groaned, leaning your head back. “I think I’m dying.”

Agatha, still rummaging in a cabinet, snorted. “You’re not dying. You’re dramatic.”

“Says the woman who basically surgically patched me up with thread and spite.”

She turned, holding a small bottle of ibuprofen in her hand. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

You reached out as she crossed over and placed it in your palm.

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

There was a beat of silence before your stomach very audibly growled.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, folding her arms.

“…Starving yourself to prove a point now, too?”

“I haven’t eaten in two days,” you whined, leaning dramatically over the arm of the couch. “Forgive me for being flesh and blood.”

“Oh, I forgive you,” Agatha said dryly. “I just think you’re pathetic.”

You shot her a glare. “You're enjoying this.”

She gave a half shrug. “A little. You’re fun when you’re cranky.”

You opened the pill bottle and popped two ibuprofen into your mouth, swallowing them dry. Then you sat back and muttered, “and you’re fun when you’re not threatening to leash me.”

Agatha grinned. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tempt me.”

You coughed—well, sputtered, really—face heating as she turned away, clearly amused. That laugh she let out? That had no right being so attractive. It was low, unbothered, like she’d already won something you didn’t know you were competing for.

“Sit there. Don’t move,” she called over her shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen.

You obeyed, not that you had much of a choice. Your body still ached, and honestly, the couch was… surprisingly comfortable. You sank into it, cheek pressed to the armrest where she’d once sat. At some point, your eyes slipped shut. The soft hum of kitchen noise blurred into the background, warm and oddly comforting.

You didn’t even realize you’d drifted until the sound of a bowl being set on the coffee table jerked you awake.

A gentle nudge against your foot followed.

You cracked one eye open and groaned softly. “Mmmph.”

“Don’t grumble at me,” Agatha said, unimpressed. “I made you food.”

That snapped you into sitting position, wincing as you held your side. Your eyes dropped to the steaming bowl in front of you.

She clicked her tongue. “Such an eager thing. All it takes is soup. Like a little puppy.”

You gave her a half glare at the teasing, but you were too tired—and too hungry—to mount a real defense. “Soup?” you asked, eyeing the contents.

Agatha quirked an eyebrow. “You asked for food. I gave you food. Eat it before I take it back.”

You pouted up at her. “Just soup?”

“It’s broth and noodles, not a five course dinner,” she said, unimpressed. “Your body can’t handle real food right now. You’re lucky you’re getting that.”

You grumbled, fumbling with the spoon. “Thanks, Mom.”

Agatha snorted, crossing her arms again as she leaned against the back of the armchair opposite you.

“I’ll add that to my growing list of offenses,” she said dryly. “Dictator. Leash enthusiast. Mom.”

“Don’t forget menace,” you added through a mouthful of hot broth.

She gave a soft huff of amusement. “That one’s earned.”

Agatha pulled out a book from the side table drawer, flipping it open with a practiced hand as she settled into the armchair across from you. She didn’t say anything, just began reading in the warm, lamp  lit silence, her ankle crossed over her knee, posture perfectly at ease.

You, on the other hand, were a little less graceful—slouching into the cushions, slurping up broth in agathas oversized sweater, cradling the bowl like it might vanish. The pain meds were finally kicking in, dulling the sharp edges of your ribs and easing the ache in your head. You felt… not good, but better. Enough to breathe without wincing. Enough to speak without biting your tongue.

Your eyes drifted to Agatha as you chewed on a too soft noodle. She looked annoyingly elegant even when she was just reading. Brows furrowed, lips parted slightly as she tracked the page. The kind of stillness that made you feel like you were the one being watched, even when you weren’t.

You glanced down at your soup.

“…D’you read a lot?” you asked quietly.

Agatha didn’t look up. “I do.”

“What’s that one?”

“A book,” she deadpanned.

You squinted at her. “Ha ha.”

That earned you a small, private smirk—but she still didn’t look away from the page. “It’s a memoir. Woman who lived in Paris for ten years and made it sound unbearable.”

You hummed, scooping another spoonful of soup. Watching Agatha read was distracting. You kept thinking about her book—the one that started this whole mess. You remembered how eager you’d been when you first met her, sitting exactly where she was now, practically bouncing in your seat with questions about the Salem Witch Trials while she sat back on this very couch, cool and unimpressed.

Your stomach clenched—not from pain, this time. You set the bowl down, chewing your thumbnail, your brows furrowed.

Agatha’s book… The trip. The obsession. Everything. And then the hotel. Oh god, the hotel. Had the staff gone in after the ruckus? If they had—

Your eyes widened, teeth sinking harder into your thumb. No. They better not have. Your laptop, your notes, Harry’s research, Agatha’s book—not to mention your clothes and literally all your stuff.

You started to sit up, gritting your teeth against the throb in your side.

“I’m thinking of going back to the hotel,” you said suddenly. “I need my stuff. My research on the—”

Agatha cut you off with a sharp look that made your stomach drop.

“Absolutely not. You’re not going back there.”

You stared at her, mouth falling open. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. My notes, my documents, my laptop are still there! And clothes—I can’t just borrow yours! Or stay in your house forever!”

Agatha raised an eyebrow and shut the book, setting it on the table with deliberate care. She let her eyes drift over you slowly, a smirk tugging at her lips. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

You flushed. “Agatha. I’m going. I need to—”

“I’ll get it for you,” she interrupted again, voice firmer.

You scoffed, carefully starting to rise from the couch, one hand automatically going to your side.

“I can get it myself. I’m a big girl.”

In a flash, she was on her feet and crossing the room in purposeful strides. You barely had time to blink before her hands were on your shoulders, pressing you gently—firmly—back into the couch.

“I said I’ll get it for you,” she repeated, voice low. “Don’t be difficult, pet.”

You squirmed in her grip. “You can’t keep me here—”

“You’re hurt,” she snapped. “You’re in no condition to walk to town and back to that hotel.”

Her voice had that clipped edge again, but there was something else buried under it—urgency, almost panic. Why the hell was she so determined to keep you here? A few days ago, you got the sense she’d throw a party the moment you were out of her house. But now?

Now she looked at you like if you stepped outside, the world might burn down.

“I think I’ll be fine,” you muttered, pushing against her grip.

But she didn’t budge.

Instead, Agatha leaned in. The pressure of her hands increased, keeping you pinned to the couch. Your breath caught, eyes widening as her face hovered close—closer than it had any right to be.

The warmth of her palms bled through the thick knit of her sweater, seeping into your shoulders like a brand. Lavender and cedarwood flooded the air. You weren’t prepared for the way it punched through your senses.

Your stomach flipped. Your heart stumbled, and arousal started to pool in your pants… well agathas pants, and that just made it even more enticing.

Your face flushed deeper, embarrassment and confusion flaring together. You tried to shift again, but your hands didn’t push as hard this time.

“Let go,” you said, quieter now. “You’re keeping me like I’m some kind of prisoner…”

Agatha’s grip stayed firm. Her eyes didn’t waver. And for the first time since she’d touched you, she spoke softer. Deadly serious.

“No. I’m keeping you alive,” she said. “That creature isn’t gone. It’s tethered to the summoner. You.”

your breath stuttered in your chest.

Tethered. That word sat cold and heavy in your gut, dragging your thoughts down into something darker.

Tethered. To you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fact that Agatha was still very much in your space—still holding you there like she belonged that close to you. Like pinning you down was just a normal part of conversation.

Her eyes lingered on yours, expression unreadable now. Her fingers flexed slightly against your shoulders before she seemed to realize she was still touching you—and just as suddenly as she'd grabbed you, she stepped back.

The warmth disappeared with her, and you hated how your body immediately missed it.

You sat there for a second, blinking at the empty air where she’d been.

Then, voice raspier than you meant, you muttered, “That thing… it’s still after me?”

Agatha crossed her arms, exhaling sharply through her nose. “Not quite. It’s bound to you. Like a scent trail. If it’s not already trying to crawl its way back here, it will soon.”

You shifted, stomach twisting. “That’s not ominous at all.”

She gave you a look. “I told you not to play with things you didn’t understand.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, next time I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown and someone hands me a Latin summoning spell with your name practically scrawled across it, I’ll be sure to… journal instead.”

That got a twitch of her mouth—almost a smile. But it didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” she said.

Agatha's eyes flicked to your side—where the pain meds had dulled the worst of it but not erased the memory of claws, panic, darkness. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but didn’t. Instead, she turned, heading toward the kitchen.

“I’ll get your things,” she said over her shoulder.

You shifted slightly, taking a breath that didn’t quite settle.

“You’re leaving right now?” you called, raising your voice just enough to carry.

You heard her footsteps pass the living room, then the soft sound of the mudroom light switching on.

“Yeah,” she said, echoing your earlier words back to you with a maddening smirk in her voice. “I thought you were a big girl.”

You bit your tongue—hard. The words You stayed last night perched on the tip of it, but instead you asked the more pressing question.

“How do you know it won’t come here while you’re gone?”

A pause. The quiet kind. The kind that made you nervous.

From where you sat, you could just hear the faint shuffle of her in the mudroom, probably pulling on boots or whatever dramatic cloak she wore.

“It won’t,” she said at last.

You rolled your eyes, already pushing yourself up a little straighter. “Oh great, glad you’ve consulted the spirits. How can you be so sure?”

You caught the brief sound of her scoffing as she bent to lace her boots.

“There was a black figure outside here that night,” you went on, voice rising. “Literally right here in the woods near this house, Agatha. If something was here before I even summoned anything. So please, enlighten me—what part of this place is so damn safe?”

From the hallway, you heard her rub her fingers against her temple. You didn’t even have to see it—you could feel the way she closed her eyes like you were the migraine she couldn’t shake.

“I’m serious,” you snapped.

Agatha’s voice cracked back like a whip.

“Just be a good little historian and stay inside this house, and you’ll be perfectly fine. Got it?”

You opened your mouth to protest, to shout something clever and mean and biting, but she turned her head slightly and gave you that look.

The one that shut you up instantly.

You huffed and sank back into the couch with a bratty sigh. “Yes, ma’am,” you muttered under your breath.

You missed the way her eyes darkened at that.

She turned without another word, her coat sweeping past the doorframe like a storm.

“The medicine’s on the counter,” she called back coolly. “Take it in an hour. Do not leave this house.”

And then the door closed, sharp and final.

---

Around five minutes passed, and you were getting bored. Sure, staying in the house—how fun.

You grumbled, pushing yourself off the couch for the first time since Agatha had shoved you back into it.

Her face had been so close to yours then. The warmth of her hands on your shoulders, her scent so close—God, you could still feel it. A strange, electric hum buzzed just beneath your skin, and as you took that first step, you were hyper aware of the slickness between your thighs. Your cheeks flushed, and the ember of arousal that had lingered in your stomach flared into something hotter, something… burning.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you muttered under your breath, trying to shake off the weird feeling. But the feeling stayed. Always lurking.

You made your way out of the living room, your pace slower than you intended. You’d hoped that now that Agatha was gone, you could do a bit of exploring, maybe prove her wrong for once by doing exactly what she’d told you not to.

But that nagging voice in the back of your head—her constant ‘rest, stay inside,’ as if you needed a babysitter—God, now that someone had told you what to do, you just didn’t want to.

You shuffled into the dining room, hoping it would provide at least some distraction from… whatever this feeling was that seemed to keep creeping back every time you thought about Agatha. 

The room itself wasn’t much, just a standard dining room. The deep green walls and polished wood gave off a classic vibe, but the vase of flowers and candles in the center of the table seemed too delicate for a house that felt so… other. The chairs were wooden, their white padding crisp and inviting, the red backs a small pop of color. A few paintings lined the walls, gold frames gleaming in the light. The back door to the outside caught your attention briefly, but the room? It felt too… quiet. Too still.

You shook your head, a little frustrated with yourself, and turned to leave the room. Boring. Just like you’d expected.

Your feet carried you back to the staircase, the wooden steps creaking softly beneath you as you climbed. The pain meds had finally kicked in, making movement easier than it had been that morning. You weren’t exactly cured, but you felt lighter, steadier.

At the top of the stairs, you paused in front of the first door on the right. The house was silent—almost too silent. You cracked the door open, its hinges whining as if in protest.

Inside was darker—cozier, maybe—but the tension in the air made your skin prickle. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with books. Some were newer, some leather bound and very old. The air smelled of old paper, dust, and wood... but there was something else in it too. Something that didn’t belong.

You stepped in.

This had to be Agatha’s study.

You glanced over the books as you wandered. Would she be mad if you did this?

Maybe. Probably.

Whatever. This was research. You’d be long gone once Agatha returned with your things. No harm in poking around.

Your eyes caught on a spine bound in cracked leather. Latin. You paused. Your stomach tightened.

Why would Agatha need this?

You glanced back at the door, ensuring you were still alone, then pulled it free. The pages were brittle, heavy. The text was dense, curling across the parchment like vines—impossibly intricate. You didn’t understand a word of it, but the feeling of it was wrong. Like the words themselves had weight.

You put it aside, unease prickling your skin.

A small wooden box caught your eye—tucked far back on a low shelf, like it was never meant to be found. You knelt and lifted the lid.

Bird feed.

You blinked. Tiny bags of it, neatly labeled in handwriting you didn’t recognize. Some kind of specialty mix? But for what?

Your brain filled in the answer before you could stop it.

Crows.

The crow. That same crow—always there. At the cemetery. The Hotel. Watching you. Watching Agatha.

You stared down at the feed. Were they… connected?

Something in your chest twisted. A strange, irrational certainty settling in your gut maybe the crow wasn’t just a crow.

You stood, shaken, and that’s when you noticed something else. A notebook. Large, faded, half buried beneath old papers. You pulled it free, blowing off the dust.

Inside were handwritten notes. Quick, messy, rushed.

Your eyes caught the first line.

Harry tried to summon that beast again. It was too risky, so I backed out.

Your stomach dropped.

Harry. Irene’s husband. The man obsessed with the same strange occurrences you were only now beginning to uncover.

You flipped the page, your fingers trembling.

And then you remembered one of the documents from Irene’s collection:

Tested 3/19/85. Results inconclusive. Felt presence. Weather shifted. H refused to try again.

H. Had to be Agatha. Who else would Harry be working with?

Your brain whirled. Why hadn’t she told you? Why lie about her name, her ancestors, the damn book?

But the year—1985. Forty years ago.

Agatha was what—mid-forties? If the notes were real, she’d have been a child when they were written.

That couldn’t be possible.

Unless…

Unless she wasn’t in her forties.

Your breath caught. You flipped faster, pages rustling as you pushed deeper into the notebook. Your heart pounded in your chest.

No grave for Agatha Harkness. Her name repeating through history. That photo from Irene’s collection—grainy, and old. The another one on The Titanic.

It looked just like her.

Both of them did.

Your hands shook. The time she mentioned Bridget Bishop like she knew her. The Latin book. The crow. The way her writing read like first hand memory, not research.

And everything always led back to that book. Her book. The one that pulled you to Hollow Wood in the first place.

Your thoughts spiraled, crashing into one another, overlapping and unraveling.

You dropped the notebook when the pain hit.

Sharp. Behind your ear. Blinding.

You gasped, hand flying to the stitches. Blood.

You hadn’t even moved enough to tear them.

The room tilted. Your stomach lurched.

You stumbled toward the bathroom, breathing hard, blinking back black spots in your vision.

You didn’t hear the thud from the study behind you.

Or the soft rustle of pages turning themselves.

Your ears rang as your vision dimmed.

Once in the bathroom, you collapsed to your knees, barely making it to the toilet before everything came up—violent, heaving retches that wracked your already fragile body. 

But what spilled out wasn’t right.

Not food. Not bile. Not even just blood.

Black, viscous gunk mixed with a deep, sickening red splattered into the bowl. The smell of iron and rot hit your nose like a punch. It was wrong. 

Too thick. 

Too alive.

You choked, gripping the rim of the porcelain, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

Then everything tilted.

The world wavered like heat on pavement. Your arms gave out. You hit the floor hard, cheek pressed to the freezing tile, and the lights above shimmered—flickered once—

—then went out entirely.

Darkness.

And then—

Light.

Not pain. Not yet. Just light. Too much. Violet, searing through your skull like fire cracking glass.

Your world tipped over the edge of consciousness, and the lines between reality and dream blurred.

You weren’t in the bathroom anymore—you weren’t anywhere.

You were slipping.

The air thickened, choking, like smoke in your lungs.

Your ears rang louder.

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl.

FLASH.

Salem.

The sky was black with smoke. Screams pierced the wind. People ran—no, stumbled—over cobblestone and mud, faces twisted in agony and fanaticism.

Flames licked the wooden posts. Higher. Hungrier.

You stood among them. Or you didn’t.

A girl cried out as they tied her wrists. Her face—it was yours.

No.

But close enough to hurt.

A voice—rasping, ancient—cut through the chaos:

“Witch.”

FLASH.

You hunched over old bones, carving runes into the dirt, muttering words you didn’t know you knew.

A circle of women watched.

Shadows flickered. The fire hissed.

Agatha.

She stood just beyond the light. Always just beyond reach.

Her eyes, glowing violet like dying stars.

“You never learn,” she whispered.

Or did you say it?

FLASH.

A noose. A forest. Wolves.

Your name written in blood soaked dirt.

Agatha at your side, weeping—or laughing. You couldn’t tell.

You turned to her.

“I remember you,” you said.

But your voice came layered—young, old, a hundred accents tangled in chorus.

A dozen yous.

FLASH.

A fire crackling low.

Fur pelts beneath your knees.

A stone cottage flickering in candlelight.

You gasped—not in pain, but pleasure—as Agatha leaned in, her breath warm at your throat.

Your hands tangled in her hair.

Her lips crashed into yours like a broken dam. She kissed you like she’d been starved for centuries.

Maybe she had.

Maybe you had, too.

“Don’t leave,” you whispered—

But it was already slipping.

FLASH.

Someone held your face underwater. Your lungs burned.

The surface above shimmered—a distorted image of Agatha leaning over the basin.

Older now.

Or younger. Cloaked. Bleeding.

She whispered something ancient—Latin? Hebrew? Older?—and the water came alive with it.

You screamed bubbles.

No one came.

FLASH.

A bed. Moonlight. Her fingers ghosting over your skin. Her mouth trailing lower.

A moan—yours. Half sob, half prayer.

“Mine,” she breathed against your stomach, voice shaking with something far deeper than lust.

“You’ve always been mine.”

FLASH.

A book slammed shut. Candles blew out. Wind tore through a sanctum below ground.

“You shouldn’t have opened it,” Agatha growled—

But she wasn’t Agatha anymore.

Her skin cracked like porcelain. Her voice echoed with a hundred lives. Her hair rose like a storm cloud.

FLASH.

Her body over yours.

Your nails raked down her spine. Her eyes—violet wildfire—held you in place.

The heat.

The rhythm.

The desperation.

Like you were both trying to outrun fate by falling into each other.

FLASH.

Your face.

In a mirror. Shattered.

Each shard held a different version of you:

One in chains.

One cloaked in white, glowing like a god.

One laughing at a burning stake.

One whispering in Agatha’s ear, too close. Too knowing.

Each one stared.

Each one said:

“You don’t belong here.”

“You never have.”

FLASH.

Her hand.

Cupping your face.

Thumb brushing your bottom lip. Her eyes—devastated.

“I always find you,” she whispered.

“And I always lose you.”

FLASH.

The purple returned—blinding now. A ring of violet fire spun outward, burning the dream to ash.

The visions.

The selves.

All of it—

Gone.

And just before the darkness took you—

Agatha.

Her face inches from yours.

Eyes endless.

“I told you,” she whispered.

“You weren’t ready.”

Then—

Black.

Silence.

Only the cold tile beneath your cheek to remind you:

You’re still in the bathroom.

You’re still you.

…Aren’t you?

You were panting, blinking slowly. Each breath scraped the back of your throat like sandpaper. The tile was still cold beneath your cheek—unmoving, too real.

That’s when you heard it.

A door shutting. The faintest creak of old hinges, followed by careful, purposeful footsteps on wood.

Then—

A pause.

Muttered words. Sharp. Clipped. Too far away to catch.

Then more footsteps. Faster. Heavier. Frantic now.

Your name, called out—

Muffled, like through water.

But the ringing in your ears was finally starting to fade, pulling back like a receding tide.

You blinked again.

“Hey.” The voice was closer now. Rougher. Agitated.

“Damn it—”

A silhouette appeared in the doorway—sharp against the hallway light. You tried to lift your head but managed only a twitch.

The shape moved fast.

A hand on your shoulder. Firm. Warm. Familiar.

“Hey—hey, look at me,” she said, kneeling beside you.

Agatha.

You turned your head slightly, vision swimming. Her face came into view in fragments—wild hair, narrowed eyes, lips tight with panic. Her hands hovered like she didn’t know whether to touch you or shake you.

“What the hell happened to you?” she demanded, voice low but laced with urgency. Her hands finally settled—one on your cheek, the other steadying your arm.

You opened your mouth, but no words came. Just a weak, strangled breath.

Her eyes scanned you—your face, your trembling limbs, the red black mess in the toilet bowl. She went still. You watched her jaw clench, the moment something shifted behind her eyes.

Agatha sighed, low and rough. "Shit."

“Okay…” she murmured, more to herself than to you.

You flinched as her hands moved under your arms—deft but careful, like she’d done this before. She pulled you upright, and your whole body swayed, unmoored. She caught you against her chest without hesitation.

You didn’t mean to lean into her. But you did.

And she didn’t pull away.

The scent of her wrapped around you as she shifted her weight and braced you fully in her lap. One arm came around your shoulders, the other behind your knees, like she was considering just carrying you somewhere again.

But you shook your head, barely.

“‘M fine,” you croaked. Barely a whisper.

Agatha’s jaw tensed against your temple. “Sure you are.”

You blinked slowly. The tile was cold against your feet, her body warm against your back. Your skin buzzed with delayed adrenaline, and your breath still stuttered like a skipping record.

“I think…” you started, voice hoarse, “…I tore something. A stitch or…”

You gestured weakly toward your head, hoping she wouldn’t question how something like that would cause that kind of mess.

She didn’t speak, but you felt the slow exhale through her nose. Sharp. Skeptical.

“And the soup…” you added, quieter now. “There were noodles. I think the… solids… didn’t go down well.”

A pause.

A long one.

You didn’t look at her, but you felt it—her body going still, head tipping just slightly, like she was squinting at you. The weight of it alone made your stomach twist.

“Mm,” she said, eventually. Flat. Dry. Disbelieving.

She didn’t push it.

But she didn’t buy it either.

The silence between you deepened, thick as the shadows clinging to the bathroom walls.

Now you were holding the secrets.

And she knew it.

She shifted behind you, adjusting her hold. One arm stayed wrapped around your middle, steady as a railing. The other rose to your forehead again, fingers brushing the damp hair there.

You shivered.

“Talk to me,” she said after a long moment—quieter now. “What do you feel?”

You swallowed. “Cold.”

Another pause.

“Anything else?”

You were quiet for too long. She moved like she was about to ask again, but then you rasped out, “Tired.”

Agatha nodded against your temple. “Shock,” she muttered. “Probably.”

You didn’t argue. Didn’t move. You couldn’t, not really.

So you stayed there, letting her anchor you, her warmth easing the trembling in your fingers little by little.

And for the first time since you’d met her…

She was the one waiting for you to speak.

Next Chapter

[inky-writing]

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: animal attacks, bad parenting (lol), stalking, it is short, typos maybe?, i think that's all...

Word count: 1,593

Book II - Chapter 5: From the Shadows

Mid-January in Forks was as dreary as ever. The constant drizzle coated the roads and rooftops, but for the Swan household, there was some change. Bella had begun to rejoin the world, step by step. The last days of December had been filled with warmth, Charlie and Y/N doing their best to pull Bella out of her room for New Year’s Eve celebrations. And to everyone’s relief, Bella had made the effort to join them, sitting quietly but present as they watched the countdown on TV and shared a toast of champagne.

Now, two weeks into the new year, the signs of her slow recovery were becoming more evident. Bella spoke more, even if it was still mostly short sentences. She ate meals with Charlie and Y/N more regularly and even initiated conversations. The most significant change came when she approached Y/N one morning.

“I found bikes to repair,” Bella said, her voice quiet. “I think fixing them up could be... good.”

“For you, or for the bikes?” Y/N teased, arching an eyebrow.

“For both,” Bella replied, managing a faint smile. “Do you want to come with me to Jacob’s?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

That afternoon, Y/N and Bella drove to Jacob Black’s house in La Push, three rusted motorbikes strapped into the bed of Bella's old truck. The later seemed nervous, fidgeting with the wheel as they pulled into the driveway, but Y/N could tell there was excitement mixed with her hesitation.

Jacob greeted them with a wide grin, his enthusiasm practically radiating. “Bells! Y/N! Where the hell have you been locas?!”

Together, they unloaded the bikes, Jacob already launching into an assessment of what needed to be fixed. “The engines are shot,” he said, squatting next to one of the bikes and peering at the rusted metal. “But the frames are solid. We’ll need new spark plugs, brake cables, and probably a ton of grease, but we can make these beauties rideable again.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Y/N said, crossing her arms and smirking.

Jacob grinned. “It’s easy if you know what you’re doing. You’ll see.”

As the three of them worked, the atmosphere became lighter, filled with the sounds of tools clinking and Jacob’s animated explanations of every repair. For the first time in months, Bella seemed at ease, her laughter mixing with Y/N’s as they joked about their lack of mechanical skills.

It wasn’t long before Quil and Embry showed up.

“Hey guys! This is Bella and Y/N Swan. I told you about them.” said Jacob. The two boys quickly greeting them both before turning to Bella. “Sooo... You're really his girlfriend?” said Quil, lightly laughing.

“Humm, we're just... friends.” responded Bella, feeling a little uneasy.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend, Quil. She’s a girl, and she’s my friend.”

Y/N burst out laughing at the exchange, covering her mouth to keep from snorting. Bella turned red but managed a small smile.

Quil smirked. “A girl and a friend, huh? Subtle difference there.”

Embry snickered, nudging Quil. That's when jacob began talking again. “Not that you’d know, seeing as you had to take your cousin to the last dance.”

Embry grinned, seizing the opportunity to pile on. “Yeah, Quil, how’d that go? Did she step on your toes, or did you step on hers?”

“She’s a great dancer!” Quil protested, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

Y/N shook her head, laughing along with the others. The banter was infectious, and for a moment, it felt like everything was normal. Even Bella was smiling openly, her posture more relaxed than Y/N had seen in weeks.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the garage, Y/N realized how much she had missed this, being surrounded by laughter and light-hearted teasing. It wasn’t just Bella who needed this afternoon, she did too.

When they finally packed up and said their goodbyes, Bella seemed lighter, her mood noticeably improved. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at her cousin and think that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to turn around.

January 19th, 2006

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chatter, but today, a particular topic dominated the conversation at Forks High School: the strange attacks happening around town. As Bella approached the table, she hesitated for a moment, taking in the lively conversation among Jessica, Angela, and a few others.

“I’m telling you, I saw a bear,” Angela insisted, her voice firm. “It was huge, and it was near the trailhead by the cliffs.”

Jessica snorted, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Angela. A bear? In Forks? We’d know about it by now.”

“Charlie’s gotten calls about bears,” Bella interjected, sliding into her seat. Her voice was quiet but carried enough conviction to make Angela sit up straighter. “It’s not impossible.”

“That’s so creepy,” Jessica said, her dramatic flair kicking in. “I mean, what if it’s not a bear but, like, a mountain lion? Or something else?”

Angela gave her a withering look. “It wasn’t a mountain lion. I know what I saw.”

As the debate continued, Y/N sat at the end of the table, her earplugs in, listening to Fleetwood Mac, and her attention on the article she was finishing for the school newspaper. She had joined the journal at the start of her senior year, mostly as a way to channel her thoughts and keep herself busy. Right now, the paper was her priority, not bear sightings.

She was vaguely aware of the conversation swirling around her, catching snippets between the lyrics of her music, but she focused on polishing her piece, tuning out the back-and-forth.

Later that evening, after dropping Bella off at home, Y/N sighed as she turned into the driveway. Charlie’s cruiser wasn’t there, a clear sign that he was on one of his many overnight shifts.

When she stepped into the house, the empty fridge confirmed what she had already guessed: Charlie hadn’t had time to shop. It wasn’t surprising, given the increasing pressure he was under with all the reported attacks in the area.

Y/N headed back out, deciding to make a quick run to the supermarket. She made a mental list as she drove, adding cat food to it. The black cat that had mysteriously attached itself to her was now a permanent resident in the house. Charlie hadn’t objected to her keeping it, as long as she promised to take care of it.

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket hummed faintly as Y/N wandered the aisles, tossing essentials into her cart. She scanned the shelves with practiced ease, though her mind was elsewhere, on school, on Bella, on the strange changes she had been experiencing.

She reached the pet aisle and grabbed a bag of cat food, smiling to herself at the thought of her newfound companion. The cat had been a surprising source of comfort, its constant presence grounding her somehow.

As she moved to the checkout, a strange feeling crept over her, a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder, but the aisle behind her was empty.

Shaking her head, she told herself she was imagining things. She had been on edge lately, her heightened senses and the strange occurrences around her making her more paranoid than usual.

Still, the feeling didn’t leave. As she pushed her cart toward the exit, she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder again, gripping the handle tighter.

Carlisle’s pov

Carlisle sat in his rental car, parked in the far corner of the supermarket lot, watching as Y/N emerged from the store. Her familiar forest green Jeep was parked a few spaces away, unmistakable.

He shouldn’t have come back to Forks, but something had pulled him here. The feeling had been relentless, gnawing at him since that night in december. He told himself it was because of his family’s abrupt departure and the consequences it had left behind. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t the truth.

It was her. Y/N.

Seeing her now, even from a distance, filled him with an ache he couldn’t comprehend. She looked different. He noticed she had cut her hair and was now wearing that strange necklace. It reminded him of something, but he didn’t know what exactly.

He hadn’t planned to approach her. He just wanted to see her, to confirm she was safe and well. But as she paused at the checkout line, he felt a pang of longing so strong it almost made him step out of the car.

Instead, he stayed where he was, gripping the steering wheel and fighting the urge to go to her.

She paused in the parking lot, looking around briefly before climbing into her car. Carlisle exhaled, relief and guilt mingling in his chest. He had no right to be here, to watch her like this. And yet, he couldn’t seem to stay away.

As her car pulled out of the lot, he sat in silence, staring after her until the red glow of her taillights disappeared into the night.

Notes: I AM SO SORRY IT IS SO BAD!!! I had really little time, so consider it a 'transition chapter' :'(

Tag list: @inky-bonnie @irelanrose @i-cant-pick-an-aesthetic09 @wandererthemadhatter

[zepskies]

❤️‍🩹 Life Update (And another BIG update...)

So I typically don't do this, but I just wanted to share something more personal with you guys.

Some of my friends on here already know this, but I've been going through a really rough time this summer, with an ongoing medical issue that has put me through multiple procedures and one surgical procedure last month in July. The issues all began the exact week I moved into a new apartment.

Then, just a few days after my surgery, I was let go from my job. I've been spending the last couple of months trying to recuperate, dealing with quite a lot of pain and discomfort, all while job hunting and writing stories to take my mind off it all.

I really wish I could tell you guys I'm in the homestretch of my recovery. I really thought I was! But, I just got some bad news this past Tuesday during a follow-up appointment. At best, I will need another surgical procedure. At worst, I'll need to be referred to another specialist for more answers.

I'm telling you all of this for a couple of reasons:

(And another big update below the cut!)

You've probably seen me even more active on here for the past couple of months. That's because Tumblr has been one of my main outlets, not just to distract my mind from what I've been going through, from the stress and anxiety, but also to engage more with my friends and followers. Trust me, your feedback, encouragements, comments and reblogs, tagging me on posts, and sending me fun asks has helped ease my mind. It's made me smile and laugh, even when I felt more like crying. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you! 💕💕

To potentially help offset some of my financial burdens, I'm working on creating a Patreon! I already have a Ko-Fi page, but I think Patreon will help me give back to you guys better while members support me in turn. It will be a simple monthly membership where you can get early access to my new stories and series chapters, early sneak peeks on new fic projects, some fun bonus content (like fic sequels and bonus drabbles), priority on fic requests, and more!

So stay tuned, because that's coming very soon. 😘💜

Tagging some of my lovely mutuals and readers who've made my day brighter:

@luci-in-trenchcoats @talltalesandbedtimestories @deans-spinster-witch @kaleldobrev @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@deansbbyx @artyandink @tofics @deanbrainrotwritings @iamsapphine

@spnwoman @kayleighwinchester @spnbabe67 @thatonewriter15 @jessjad -- and many, many others! 💗

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii - Part III"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x singlemom!OC

Themes: Fluff, Angst.

N/A: So, it's finally here!!! I'm sorry for the delay, but it was hard to write this chapter, either because I piled up my work, or because the characters took a while to talk to me, now they can't stay quiet. I know I said this would be the last chapter, but I can't do math, so this is probably the penultimate one and the next one will be the last (or not, idk). Anyway, enough talking because you guys waited a long time for this. Enjoy!!!!

Pedri was a patient person, his profession demanded it. During the 90 minutes or more that he touched the ball on the field and created plays in anticipation of goals, he knew he needed patience to reach the right moment to achieve his objective. He knew patience because of his injuries and the recovery time he had to deal with, as well as the hurtful comments that cast doubt on his talent, effort, and dedication. Patience sometimes eluded him during a game when a referee made a wrong call or overlooked something on the field. Patience sometimes eluded him when the boys teased him during training.

But lately patience eluded him when it came to her... Isabella Harver was driving him crazy, and that, at the moment, was beyond his clear attraction to the woman since the first time he saw her. It had more to do with the fact that she had been ignoring him since the last night they spent together, where everything ended chaotically, with no explanation from her. And that was bothering him, not the lack of explanation itself. Pedri could deduce how complicated the situation was from what he witnessed, but not knowing how Axel was, how they both were, hurt him more than he expected. Pedri wanted to understand what was happening, wanted to help in some way, and wanted to understand how someone could leave a child like Axel in that way. The player himself didn't understand his obsession with the incident; he didn't have the right to explanations. But something inside him tightened every time he remembered the child's anguished cry and Isa's frightened look.

"You know, if it were me receiving the news that I could play again, I'd be more excited than this," Gavi pointed at Pedri. "Is Isa still keeping you in the dark?" Pedri looked annoyed at Gavi. " What? You're pretty obvious about your feelings towards her. Your luck is that you don't run into her much around here," Gavi shrugged, and Pedri threw a towel at his face. "Your reaction just proves my point..."

"There's no feelings, it's just..." Pedri couldn't finish his sentence as he was interrupted by Gavi bursting into laughter, causing Pedri to roll his eyes.

"Dude, you've been drooling over her since the first time you saw her. I'm your best friend, you can admit it to me," Gavi said after calming down.

"It's complicated," Pedri says after a few seconds of silence.

"I think you guys are making it more complicated than it is," Gavi concluded patting Pedri's shoulder and letting him alone with his thoughts. Pedri thought Gavi was right, but he also had a point. It was true, that the woman had a strange magnetism that attracted him, but there was everything else that made their relationship complicated that he couldn't simply ignore.

**********************************************

Isa was sitting at her father's kitchen table, watching Axel bake a cake with Gianna, or rather, his "Gigi" as the little boy called the older woman, his grandfather's girlfriend, who despite loving the child, joked that she was too young to be called a grandmother, yet. Isa loved the affection she had for Axel, and was grateful for her presence in her father's life, and theirs too, after all, who else would teach Axel to cook considering Isa was a disaster in the kitchen?

"Can we add M&Ms? My friend Pedri loves them, so I can bring him some cake tomorrow," Axel suggested eagerly.

"Of course we can, it's your cake," the older woman said, kissing the child's head as he celebrated excitedly.

He didn't even seem like the scared child from two nights ago when she picked him up from his paternal grandparents' house. Just remembering the state he was in made Isa feel sick to her stomach. The situation had gone too far, and she wouldn't allow it to happen again.

"Axel talks a lot about Pedri," Isa looked at her father, who had approached quietly, and as she faced him, she just knew he wanted to ask something, but he would never do it directly.

"He befriended with some players." She shrugged backing her attention to her son.

"He also told me he was the one who brought you guys home that night," the man continued in his not-so-subtle attempt to extract something from his daughter.

"Yes, we were at a barça event, and I needed a ride, and he was the only sober one..." The man smiled gently at his daughter; he knew her better than anyone and knew her ways of avoiding a subject.

"When are you and Axel going back to your house?" He asked.

"Are you kicking us out? Don't you love us anymore?" Isa pouted dramatically, earning an eye roll from the older man.

"I adore having you around... Especially when it's by choice and not because you're running away from someone, even though, I don't know from who you are hiding," Isa turned to the man, confused.

"You can't let that man and his family continue to torment you and Axel, Isabella. You shouldn't even be trying to get close to those people."

"Those people, are Axel's family too."

"They don't care about him, and you know it. They only care about making your life a hell"

Isa didn't answer, not knowing exactly how she should respond even though she knew her father was right, she tried to have a good relationship with them because of Axel, but since that night some days ago, she was willing to give up on that, her child didn't deserve all that stress.

"He's going to invite him to his birthday," Isa looked confused at her father. "Pedri!" He exclaims. "I'm just informing you that I won't tolerate any trouble in my house, if this is going to cause trouble, it's better to tell Henry and his family not to come." Isa looked surprised at the man, as if she had been caught doing something, the older man's eyes indicated that he knew something, and that made the woman feel a strange feeling.

"There won't be an trouble, why would be?" She asked nervously as she got up.

"My beloved and favorite daughter..." The ironic smile on her father's face made Isa roll her eyes.

"It would be strange if I weren't, been your only one" she responded mimicking his tone.

"I know you think you're subtle, but you have the most emotive and transparent eyes there are," he said, kissing Isa's head, who didn't respond.

Her father's remark left a bitter taste and a strange sensation in her core. Isa was aware of her not-so-small attraction to the player, but it was just that, attraction. She couldn't develop feelings, let alone be expressive about them. She sighed in frustration as she drove to the training center, just hoping not to encounter the player.

**********************************************

"Hey, guys," Ferran says as he enters the physiotherapy room. "Look, Pedri. Who I bumped into on my way here," Pedri lifted his eyes from his phone towards his friend. "Mini you."

"Pedriiii" Axel said, running into the physiotherapy room, but stopped and walked slowly to the bed where Pedri was lying.

"Hey buddy, I didn't see you these days," Pedri said to the little boy, who leaned against the bed, resting his head and attentively watching every move of the physiotherapist. "Are you okay?"

"Mom is looking for schools for me," he said rolling his little eyes, eliciting laughter from the players.

"I feel you, buddy," Ferran said, running his hand through Axel's hair. "Can I do it too?" Axel asked after a few minutes of silence while watching the physiotherapist tape the small electrical wrist electrodes onto Pedri's leg to start the treatment. The physiotherapist looked at Pedri as if asking for permission, and the player felt his chest warm at the thought of being responsible for the little boy.

"Won't it be too strong for him?" Pedri asked, concerned. The man smiled at him, shaking his head.

"I'll set it to a low frequency. It'll feel like tickles." Pedri then looked at Axel, who was looking at him expectantly, waiting for the player's response.

"Alright, let's do it, buddy," Pedri laughed as the little boy jumped excitedly. The doctor picked him up and placed him on the bed next to Pedri.

"If only all my players were this excited about physiotherapy sessions," the older man said with a sigh, making Pedri laugh.

"I'm quite cooperative."

"I won't comment, so as not to embarrass you in front of the child."

"I'm not worse than Gavi," Pedri said offended.

"You're impatient, and Gavi is... Well, Gavi," Pedri chuckled. "Come on, little buddy, I'm going to turn it on, let me know if it hurts."

Axel nodded, reaching out his hand for Pedri to hold, and the player promptly held. Axel closed one of his eyes in expectation, but as soon as it started he let out a laugh.

"Aw, it tickles," Axel laughed with wide eyes looking at the player.

"Oh, I wish mine was just a tickle..." Ferran sighed as he lay down on the examination table. Pedri nodded in agreement and then turned his attention to Axel, who seemed frustrated.

"Is everything okay, buddy?" The little boy looked at Pedri and made a face.

"This is boring, can I take it off?" Pedri chuckled at the child's impatience. In the short time he had known Axel, he knew Axel was too energetic and talkative for a physiotherapy session.

"Of course, let me help you." Pedri leaned over to remove the equipment from Axel's leg. Once he finished, the little boy jumped off the table excitedly and began walking around the room, examining every detail.

Pedri and Ferran laughed as they watched him carefully follow the physiotherapist, curious about the man's work. Then Axel grabbed a band and went over to Pedri, mimicking the therapist's movements.

"You've lost your job, Mattia," the older man chuckled as he watched the scene unfold.

After exploring everything in the room and asking about each piece of equipment, Axel grew tired and went to sit on the same examination table as Pedri, his little legs on the player's lap. He casually recounted to Pedri about the schools he had visited with his mother. The little boy didn't seem as scared as when Isa had found him that night, but he also wasn't the same boy the player had gotten used to, which intrigued and worried Pedri.

Before he could continue the conversation with the boy, the scent of the perfume that had been etched in his mind hit him, and immediately his eyes darted to the door. And there she was, three days since he last saw the woman, and she looked even more beautiful. Realizing where his thoughts were, he shook his head. He was angry at her; she had put him in various kinds of situations and simply disappeared, leaving him in the dark, confused, and distressed with a whirlwind of emotions.

"Axel... What did I say about you wandering around?" Axel jumped in surprise at the woman's voice. The reaction made Pedri laugh.

"Hi, Mommy... But it was just a little bit, just to get here, then I sat down, right Pedri?" Axel said in a sweet voice, clearly attempting to deceive his mother, and Pedri had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the boy's excuse. "Right, Pedri?" He repeated, poking Pedri.

"Oh sure, he sat the whole time," Pedri said, looking at Isa, and noticed she was also holding back laughter.

"Oh, great. You found someone else to cover for you besides your grandpa. You can't be friends if you're going to be against me," she said, crossing her arms. Axel shrugged with a mischievous smile. "We need to go home, baby," she said, and Axel's smile faded. He stood up and moved behind the player, hugging his neck.

"No, I want to stay here," he said in a whiny voice. Pedri looked at Isa as if seeking answers. The woman sighed and sat on the examination table next to the player, her mere proximity already causing sensations in Pedri.

"Axel, sweetheart. You need to let Pedri get back to his physiotherapy; you don't want him to get back to playing?" She said softly.

"He can stay, I don't mind," Pedri said quietly to the woman, who simply nodded and leaned against the wall. Pedri and Isa's gazes didn't waver, both maintaining eye contact as if engaged in a silent conversation, seeking answers.

Isa looked away when the physiotherapist returned to the room, giving a brief smile to the woman.

"Five more minutes, and I'll let them go," he said to Isa, who just nodded, confused. "Your boys were very cooperative, one doing the exercises correctly, and the other helping me treat the other players." Upon hearing this, Pedri saw the woman's face turn red, her eyes widened, and then she began to cough. "Oh, dear. Are you alright? Would you like some water?" Mattia asked, approaching and patting the woman's back.

"It's the excitement of seeing her two boys," Ferran's voice, which Pedri thought had been sleeping until now, startled him, and the woman's coughing increased as she looked at him with a deadly glare.

"I'll wait outside," she said, leaving the room. Pedri looked at Ferran, who had a mocking smile on his face, and grabbed a bottle and threw it at him.

"What, I'm lightening the mood; the tension between you two is palpable. I was sleeping and could still feel it." Pedri decided to ignore his friend since Axel was looking at both with curiosity.

"Hey buddy, why don't you go see your mom? I'll be there in a bit." The little boy nodded and hopped off the examination table, running out of the room just as Mattia returned to release Pedri. The player then left the room, a bit apprehensive that they might have already left, but to his surprise, both were waiting in the hallway. Isa was crouched down at Axel's height, helping him search for something in his backpack.

"You can give him his later or ask Pedri to give it to him," Pedri heard Isa say to the boy.

"Hey," Pedri said, stopping beside them. "Is everything okay?" Isa just nodded.

"Here, is an invitation to my birthday party. You're coming, right?" Axel said, handing the envelope to Pedri, eagerly awaiting his response.

"Of course, buddy," Pedri said, tousling Axel's hair, who smiled excitedly and hugged Pedri's leg.

"I'll go deliver Ferran's," the boy said, turning to his mother, waiting for her approval, and as soon as she agreed, he ran back to the physiotherapy room. Pedri turned his attention to the woman who was staring intensely at him, feeling his heart race at the intensity of her gaze.

"Do you want to come with us to have some birthday cake?" She said, breaking the silence between them, and God, the softness of her voice... If she used that tone to ask the player anything, he would gladly accept.

"Is his birthday today?" Pedri asked, concerned. The boy had mentioned his birthday, but hadn't mentioned dates.

"Tomorrow. The party will be next week because of the game this weekend, but he has a cake to sing 'Happy Birthday' at midnight, it's tradition. He'll be happy if you're there;" she said, leaning against the wall. Pedri took a step towards her, coming face to face with the woman, their faces just inches apart, and he could feel her heavy breath.

"Just him?" Pedri asked, and he saw the woman furrow her eyebrows in confusion. "Will only he like it if I'm there?" he asked eagerly, Isa swallowed, her eyes scanning the player's face. "Oh... You're so beautiful" Pedri says taking a good look at her face, he lowers his face towards hers his lips brushing against hers. Pedri thought his attraction to the woman was just a result of a night out at a club. Even though he hadn't had a single drop of alcohol in his body, the atmosphere of such places always had something extra. But whether it was now, or when he caught a brief glimpse of Isa as he saw her through the training center, he knew it was something more.

"Mom, we'll need an invitation for Mattia too..." Axel's voice emerging again in the hallway causes Pedro and Isa to abruptly pull away, and Pedro is thankful because he is inches away from forgetting where they were and doing something with the woman right there.

"We'll bring it tomorrow," Isa says, her breath heavy. "Shall we go home now? We still need to stop by Pops to get your cake."

"YESSS," Axel says excitedly, then turns his attention back to Pedro. "Do you want to come to eat my cake?" Pedri smiles at the question, not at the question itself, but at the way he asked it, with the same intonation that his mother had used earlier. Isa smiled proudly at Pedri as if she understood what he was thinking.

"Of course, buddy. I'd love to."

"YAY," Axel exclaimed excitedly, jumping onto the player so that he could lift him. Pedri smiled at the little boy, planting a kiss on the top of his head, and as he walked down the hallway, with Axel in his arms and Isa by his side, his only thought was that he could and wanted to get used to this... definitively.

********************************************

The way to her father's house, it was silent, well, at least on Isa's part, considering that Axel and Pedri were engaged in an intense conversation about Axel starting at Barça's football school. Isa had even tried to join the conversation but soon stopped trying, feeling like she was intruding on something of theirs. And if she didn't know how much her son loved her, she would start feeling jealous of what he had with the player. Speaking of him, Isa was feeling nervous about his presence, and she began to wonder where her head was when she invited him to eat Axel's birthday cake, but before she knew it, the words were already coming out of her mouth, so now she has to deal with his presence, and that makes her nervous.

When she stopped in front of her father's house, she was immensely grateful that his reaction was just that of a Barcelona fan, not that of a curious father, or it would add even more to her nervousness.

The player and her father spent about 10 minutes talking about soccer, Pedri's injury, and his return to the field. Of course, the conversation between the two eventually led to Axel casually asking his grandfather, "But pops, I thought Gavi was your favorite." The question made the man choke in embarrassment, and Pedri laughed at the situation. But Isa knew her son, and for him to be "against" his grandfather, considering how close they were, the only reason was that her child was jealous of the player.

As soon as they arrived at the apartment, Axel insisted on showing the player his room, who wasn't at all surprised to see that it was all decorated in Barcelona colors. Isa listened to their interaction from the kitchen until the player's surprised tone caught her attention, and she sneakily walked to the boy's room.

"Axel, what's this?" Pedri was facing the wall, looking at Axel's photo mural, and Isa knew exactly what had caught his attention. "Is Gavi your favorite too?" he asked indignantly.

"Nooo," the boy said laughing, and Pedri turned to him with narrowed eyes.

"You're not being convincing laughing like that," the player concluded, taking a photo with his phone, probably to send to his friend.

"Show him your shirts, honey," Isa said, appearing in the doorway, catching the attention of both. Axel ran to the closet, pulling the player with him, and Isa saw the player's surprised face; Axel had several Barcelona shirts, all with the number 8 and the player's name.

"Okay, I can forgive you now, buddy," Pedri laughs, tousling Axel's hair, as he bends down to pick something from the drawer. "Of course, there's one to ruin the fun." He shows Isa the shirt with Gavi's number, making her burst into laughter.

"It's a gift from pops, I told you Gavi is his favorite," Axel says, finding the situation amusing as well.

"Axel, sweetheart, go take a shower so we can cut your cake," Isa says to her son, who eagerly runs to the bathroom. Isa was thankful every day that he hadn't yet reached the phase where children dislike bathing.

Her attention returned to the player, who was looking at her expectantly once again. Isa wasn't sure what to do; she had never brought anyone to her apartment before, and the player made her nervous.

"Let's go to the kitchen," she said in a lower tone, and Pedri nodded, following her out of the room. Along the way, he examined the various photos scattered around the place, stopping in front of another photo wall in the living room, and analyzing each one.

And Isa took the opportunity to observe him. God, he was so handsome, she thought. Everything about him, the hair, the beard. Isa had seen many comments from the player's fans asking him to get rid of the beard, but she would protest against that.

"Earth to Isabella," Isa snapped out of her thoughts when she saw the player standing right in front of her. "What were you thinking that made you blush like that?" Pedri had a playful grin on his face, that made Isa distance herself abruptly from him.

"What were you talking about?" She asked breathlessly.

"You have a photo with Gavi too," he showed the Polaroid to Isa. "Does he spend a lot of time with you guys? I'm starting to think your whole family has a not-so-subtle crush on Gavira," Pedri tried to say nonchalantly, but his clenched jaw gave away a flash of jealousy, making Isa laugh, and then she approached the player.

"Are you jealous of Gavi?" Isa felt the player's hand on her waist pulling her closer, once again her face just inches away from his, Isa could feel her heart beating so fast she was sure the player could hear it, and that was very new for her. "I took the photo to make my dad jealous. Axel and I don't joke when we say he's his favorite. Also, he spends a few days in the office after his physiotherapy and recovery sessions. He's too impatient to just watch you guys training," Isa also suspected that this wasn't the only reason he visited her in the administrative part of the training center, but she wouldn't talk about it now.

Pedri nodded and leaned in towards the woman, Isa held her breath, and before she could feel the player's lips, her phone rang. She stepped back, and Pedri muttered a curse word. As soon as she saw who it was, all the ecstasy and calmness of the moment vanished. She hung up the call, and it didn't take long for the device to beep, indicating the arrival of messages.

"Answer the damn phone!!!"

"What are you thinking!!!! Are you out of your mind? First, you invade my parents' house and take my son, and now you're hanging out with teenagers?"

Isa felt her body go cold when Henry sent numerous photos taken by fans showing her leaving the training center with Pedri and Axel in the player's arms.

"I'm coming right now, that damn player better not be with you, or I'll do something stupid. We're still married, and the judge will know that"

Isa felt her whole life being sucked out of her; she knew Henry didn't care about Axel, it wasn't about him but about her, and the mere possibility of her being with someone else.

"Pedri, you better go," Isa said, turning to the player who was looking at her attentively.

"What happened?" He asked, concerned. He tried to approach, but Isa stepped back, feeling tears rolling down her face.

"Isa... You're just like that night, you need to tell me what's going on." He tried to get closer again, and once again Isa backed away, she saw the hurt expression on the player's face, and it hurt her own heart a little.

"This can't keep happening, you leaving me in the dark like this... Seeing you like this, seeing how Axel was that night, it's tormenting me," Pedri said impatiently.

"This is none of your business," Isa said firmly, wiping the tears from her face. Pedri opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, he ran his hand through his beard in an irritated gesture. Isa saw her phone vibrating again, and another message from Henry appeared

"Is this why you're asking for a divorce? Oh baby, if you think I'm going to let that boy near you..."

"Go away, Pedri," Isa repeated. Pedri didn't respond, he just turned and left the apartment.

"Pedriiii" Axel's voice calling the player from the room was all it took for Isa to collapse into uncontrollable tears.

**********************************************

Pedri was relieved to be back on the team's list for a match after his injury recovery time. The medical department was still cautious about clearing him, and with the Champions League quarterfinal games coming up, he would have to endure one more match before being on the field. But just being able to be on the bench with his teammates already felt like a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. However, he couldn't ignore a certain heaviness weighing on his chest, and it was ruining his mood, with the person responsible just a few meters away from him in the tunnel leading to the field, too focused on her phone to notice anything around her.

"Dude, she's gonna melt if you keep staring at her like that," Ferran said, approaching his friend. "I thought HR was clear with you guys, and you're not being subtle at all."

Pedri rolled his eyes at the memory of what happened. After leaving the woman's apartment, his phone received a flood of notifications with tags on his photo with Isa and Axel, leading them both to explain to HR. Well, Isabella explained, claiming they were just colleagues, and that her son was a big fan and happened to run into the player in the parking lot, and that was their only interaction. Pedri was shocked at how easily the woman lied, or rather, omitted information, as she left out that a large part of their interaction occurred when they both were naked.

Pedri could feel the same irritation he felt on the day of the meeting returning at that moment, especially when he saw a man in Atlético's coaching staff approaching the woman. Pedri saw the woman's entire body language change suddenly, assuming a more defensive posture, and this intrigued him.

Pedri could hear Ferran talking beside him, but he wasn't paying attention to what he was saying exactly, his focus completely on the woman. And when the man grabbed Isa's arm forcefully, pulling her towards him with his finger in her face, Pedri saw red, his legs moving before he could think to do so. He heard Ferran calling him, but his voice was already distant, Pedri pushed the man hard, getting him off Isa.

"Look, one of your kids is here," the man said in an ironic tone, and that was enough for Pedri to punch him in the face, and soon they were grappling with each other. And that was enough for a general commotion to start in the tunnel, players pushing players, coaching staff from both teams trying to break up the fight. Pedri felt a hand on his arm, squeezing it tightly, pulling him away from the crowd.

"You can't do this!" The woman's voice brought him back from his trance suddenly, he was alert to everything around him again, notice that he was in another room, he looked at Isa, who had a furious look on her face.

"Are you okay?" Pedri asked, approaching the woman, holding her face between his hands, Isa looked at him confused.

"If I'm okay?" She asked incredulously, Pedri lowered his eyes to the woman's arm, which bore the marks of the man's grip, and again he felt anger consuming him. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The trouble you've caused me, that you've caused both of us?" She asked, getting agitated.

"I was defending you!" Pedri shouted back.

"I didn't ask for that, I didn't ask for your help!" Pedri raised his arms mockingly.

"Can you stop with this nonsense? You can't sleep with me, tell me 'it's not like that,' use your sweet tone of voice with me, claim my skin and thoughts, and then say it's none of my business." Isa opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, the door swung open abruptly, instinctively Pedri pulled Isa behind him.

"What the hell was that? Have you gone crazy?" Pedri relaxed when he saw it was just Xavi, a very angry Xavi, and he knew he had messed up. The coach looked at Pedri's hand holding Isa's wrist. "Don't tell me you got into a fight over a woman, Pedri. Over a woman you and her swore was nothing when HR asked." He said in a calmer tone of voice.

"I was just defending min..."

"I told you not to tell me!" Xavi exclaimed annoyed. "Do you know the mess you've caused? This could cost us a lot. You're not gonna be on the bench, you're suspended, go home, Pedri." Pedri tried to say something but was soon stopped by Xavi, who was furious again. The door swung open again, and a member of the communication team entered the room.

"Isabella, we need you here, the match referee wants explanations, but the Atlético communication team wants to talk to you first," the girl called for Isa, who untangled herself from Pedri, before leaving the room she gave one last look at the player, and then left for good. Pedri turned around angrily, kicking the chair that was there.

"I guess your brother won't be able to deny this rumor on social media, right?" Xavi said breaking the silence, Pedri looked up to see his coach and could tell the older man had a slight smirk on his face. "Did you at least hit him properly?" Pedri just nodded, and Xavi gave a proud smile, patting the player's shoulder. "Go home, kid," said the older man leaving the room.

Pedro was soon escorted out of the stadium by a member of the coaching staff. Pedri didn't see Isa anymore, and that annoyed him, his phone soon beeped indicating a message from HR, for a new meeting, he rolled his eyes and before he could block the phone, a message from an unknown number arrived.

"I appreciate what you did, but this can't happen, things like this can ruin my, and especially your career. This was a mistake from the beginning, and whatever is happening or has happened between you and me, it's over here. Everything between us will be strictly professional. Please respect my decision, and I hope this doesn't ruin your friendship with Axel!!"

Pedri felt his heart tighten, and his breath caught in his throat, he always reassured his friends and himself, that everything between him and the woman was just a physical attraction, but at that moment, with that message, he was sure there was something more, and as much as she denied it, Pedri knew there was something more from her side too, but if she wanted to run away from it, and wanted everything to be professional, then, so be it.

**********************************************

N/A: Again, I apologize for the delay. I hope you liked it. I've revised this chapter many times, BUT as I promised to post it today, something must have slipped, I promise to review it during the week. Thank you for all the comments, likes, reblogs, and asks, I LOVE seeing your reaction and opinion, it warms my heart!!

[dreamingofep]

Returning to Your Angel pt.4🥀

Prompt: After fleeing the Opera House unexpectedly five years ago, you're back hoping to start a new chapter. But your undeniable attraction to the Phantom makes your life more complicated than you hoped

TW: Tension, spicinessss, SMUTTT

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: Hi everyone! Very sorry for keeping you waiting like this. I think it was worth the wait because this chapter is SPICY 🥵 Thinking about this man is a full time job I swear🤭 Please enjoy.

🥀

You don’t remember how you got back to your room but you somehow made it. You cried yourself to sleep until the morning. When your eyes fluttered open, they stung. You wash your face first thing and look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were so red and puffy. You looked pathetic. You wished last night was like a dream. Like all the other dreams you had of him, you wish you woke up when he had finished pleasing you and could start the day off with that feeling of him visiting you. Instead, this was real life and the memories of last night come back to haunt you.

You didn’t regret a single thing, you just wish you could have left in better terms.

You managed to drag yourself out of bed to bathe and put your leotard on. You quickly bathed and dried yourself so you wouldn’t be late. You grab a pair of tights and sit on the edge of the bed to put them on. You pause when you reach your knees and see faint purple bruises on the inside of your upper thigh. Four oval-shaped shadows resided on there. Same size as his fingers… your mind flashes back to the way he was touching you, squeezing your thighs and spreading them apart so he could fit in between them… how he squeezed onto them tighter as he was about to-… Those damn hands were trouble. So much trouble. Just thinking of them had you weak.

You quickly pull yourself together and roll the rest of the stocking up, rushing to make it to the stage.

You show up in time for rehearsals and probably have the best performance you have had all the time you’ve been here. Your turns were perfect and your timing was right where it should be. Madame Giry took notice of you and made you an example to the other girls. It felt nice you were finally getting back into the swing of things.

Everyone took a break for half an hour to get prepared for the next ballet number. You stand off to the side and keep to yourself. You had the sheet music for the next ballet and tried to study the music to freshen up your memory of the dance.

There was murmuring at the front of the stage with the conductor, the managers, and Madame Giry. You didn’t know what was going on but they were all acting like something terrible just happened. Your heart races in anticipation. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you couldn’t help but become fearful of what was going on. Accidents have happened before… you just hoped they didn’t start again.

After some time, Madame Giry walks to you and pulls you to the side.

“There’s an issue…” she says softly.

“What is it?”

“The lead fell sick last night, we open in a week, she doesn’t think she can make a quick recovery and she still needs practice.”

“Oh no that’s awful.”

Don’t ask me what I think you are…

“Do you know the songs? Even just a little so you can fill in until she gets better?”

You sighed, you weren’t ready to sing again. At least not in this place. It was true you hadn’t been practicing and you didn’t feel like you were ready to sing again such a demanding aria. You couldn’t even sing the aria he had you practice! Maybe it might be better if he wasn’t ten inches away from you, looking at you like you were his last meal.

“I’m not sure if I can, I haven’t sung like this in years,” you object.

“They’re in a panic,” she says pointing to the conductor and managers, “can you just try the first verse and see if they like it?”

“Madame Giry please,” you sigh defeated.

“He would greatly appreciate you know, he loves it when you sing.”

You press your lips together to stop yourself from snapping at her. This is exactly what you didn’t want when you came here. You didn’t want to drop everything for him.

“No, he wouldn’t. Nothing pleases him,” you say sourly.

She holds her breath at your tone and tries to regroup herself. “I don’t think that’s true, he is the most content when he hears your voice. Remember that he helped bring out that gift in you,” she says gently.

She was right, of course. You found your voice because of him. You didn’t know if he gave you confidence or if just being near him sparked something inside you to reach your full potential. You look down at the sheet music in her hand and reach down to see it. The song was Think of Me, you recognized the melody. It wasn’t completely foreign to you and might be able to sing the first few bars.

You look at her and she knows you’ll try it out. She turns around to the conductor and managers and happily announces, “Christine can sing it, gentlemen.”

You feel the nerves get the best of you. You hadn’t done this in so long. You kept thinking about how you struggled to sing the song he gave you. You hoped you wouldn’t find yourself in the same situation.

You slowly make your way to the front of the stage where everyone is standing and give the best smile you can give through your nerves. You hear the men whisper among themselves, unsure if you have what it takes. You don’t blame them. You’re not sure if you do either.

The conductor goes back to the pit and cues the piano to start playing. You’re handed the long ornate scarf that is usually used as a prop in this section and hold onto it shakily. You have two bars to try to find your breath and calm yourself down. It’s not enough time because the two bars are over and the first line comes shakily out of your mouth.

Think of me

Think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye…

You know you’re better than this. These damn nerves are blinding you and you can hardly move. You think about running away. Quit now so you don’t make a complete fool of yourself. In the corner of your eye you see how Madame Giry is intently staring at you.

Remember me…

Every so often, promise me you’ll try

Your voice was weak and squeaked slightly at that last part. You had to get it together. You knew somewhere deep down you still had it. The passion for singing never left you. It was a gift that he gave you. Your voice and his were always intertwined.

You raise the scarf and twist it around your body, having the ends fall across your reached-out arms.

On that day, that not-so-distant day

When you were far away and free

If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me…

Your voice rang out clearer than it has in the longest time. It felt exhilarating. The piano stopped and everyone was silent for a moment. Your heart fluttered, hoping they didn’t hate it and you weren’t blind to how you sounded. The conductor started clapping and everyone followed suit. You let out a relieved sigh and thank them for their kind praise. You look over at Madame Giry and she is happy too. Looks like you’re here to sing after all even with all your tactics to stay in the background of the dancers.

*

The next week was full eight-hour days of rehearsals and costume fittings. It was an organized, chaotic mess backstage. They had been rehearsing for weeks before you arrived so everyone was scrambling to get a whole new wardrobe for you made. But everyone was such a professional. They all worked well under pressure and all your costumes would be done by opening night.

In the last week, you haven't seen him. Not even a whisper that he was around. You didn’t go to the dressing room curious if he left you a rose. You weren’t sure he wanted to see you ever again. You had to focus on your performance though. You felt confident but you hadn’t been in such a big room with an audience in years. That part scared you. You also know he likes to drop in on performances. It was a demand of his to keep Box 5 empty. The old managers normally complied but these managers were new and didn’t know the wrath that he could bring to this place. You just hoped everything would go smoothly.

You hear the hum of the audience taking their seats in the large theater. You were excited and nervous to be back on this stage. You hadn’t done this in so long and doubted yourself. You tried to push those thoughts aside. You couldn’t sabotage yourself and run away now. Everyone was counting on you.

The start of the show started flawlessly. You didn’t miss a beat and you felt your vocals were strong. All of your costumes fit perfectly and the audience was loving every minute of the show. You spot Raoul in Box 3, the middle box on the middle level. He wore a smile on his face as he watched you sing and not miss a cue.

The end of the show was drawing near and the big aria was next. It was more daunting than you one might think but it was just you alone on that big stage. You had no other background actors or dancers to distract the audience of you slipped up. You were confident.

You start the song with poise and the music overtakes your heart. You loved being up here singing. This might be what you were meant to do. The first interlude of the song plays and you gracefully move around the stage, letting the music take you.

Flowers fade the fruits of summer fade

They have their season, so do we

But please promise me that sometimes

You, will think…

There’s a break in the music to breathe for the high notes in the last bar of the song. You take a deep breath in and your body shutters, sucking the air out of you. You know what that feeling is. You couldn’t deny it. He was here. You slowly glance up at Box 5, and the shadowy figure of him sits tucked away in the booth. You can feel those piercing eyes burn into you and make you feel like mush.

You break your eyes away from him and face the audience again. The conductor in the pit is waiting for you to cue the orchestra. People were starting to hum nervously that you couldn’t finish the aria. You take another deep breath in and smile at the audience.

Of Meeeeee!

You hit the notes and the whole place bursts into thunderous applause. You smile at the reaction, relieved you did it. Flowers were thrown at your feet on the stage in a sea of pink and white roses. You curtsy as a sign of appreciation, thankful for the beautiful response. A single red rose falls at your feet and you pick it up, looking up at Box 5. He was still there, a slight smile on his lips as he turned away and faded into the darkness.

*

You received a million congratulations on a great show from everyone and could barely leave the backstage area. Everyone wanted to talk to you or hear how you learned to sing like that. Your response was always, “It took a lot of practice.” While it was true, you wouldn’t dare utter his name to a stranger.

After over an hour of being bombarded with people and more roses, Madame Giry escorted you to the grand dressing room. The room was lit with candles and had dozens of bouquets waiting for you. They were in an assorted color but your eye instantly drew to the large bouquet of dark red roses. He wanted to see you…

You turn to Madame Giry, trying not to freak yourself out.

“All of this for me?” You ask shyly.

“Yes my dear, you deserve it, you did well. He will be pleased,” she says hugging you. You feel your heart pound at that sentiment.

Will he? I don’t know if that’s possible…

You face her once again and pretend to not be phased by her words.

“Thank you, would you mind if I spend the rest of the night alone? I don’t want to see anyone else. It’s been an eventful evening,” you explain.

She nods her head in agreement, “of course. You deserve to bask in your triumph. I will see you tomorrow.”

There was a mob of people waiting outside the dressing room door and she managed to push them back to not disturb you. You get up and lock the door to ensure you won’t be bothered. You sit back down at the vanity and take your earrings off as well as the pins in your hair. It was quiet in here but you can still hear the loud rumblings of the crowd outside.

Your eyes get drawn to the rose on the desk once again and pick it up. It was beautiful, as always, but you contemplated if you should see him. You wanted to hear what he thought of your performance, but your last encounter made it hard to be excited to see him. You turn your head slowly to the mirror and only see your reflection at the vanity. At least he wasn’t waiting for you and can have this moment to yourself. Maybe you can start over tomorrow with him. This wasn’t something that needed to be rushed.

You decide to change for the evening and hang your costume up. You had a nightgown put in here so you could quickly slip into it and head to bed after. You change behind the partition and wrap your white ruffled robe around your body. You were about to leave and reach for the door handle when most of the candles blew out in a sudden gust of wind. The room became dramatically darker and a chill ran down your spine. You slowly turn around and feel his presence already.

He was in the room which surprised you, he normally always waited for you behind the mirror. He was wearing all black with a long cape as usual and stood there speechless looking at you. You cautiously walked to him, leaving plenty of space between you both. Your heart thumped uncontrollably the closer you got to him. You couldn’t get used to the pull of his presence.

“Hi,” you breathe.

His eyes look you over as you try to control your ragged breathing.

You can tell he’s trying to find the right words but he’s struggling to.

“Darling you were… incredible. The most amazing performance I have ever seen,” he says exasperated. He takes a step closer to you then falters back, not wanting to get that close to you just yet.

“Thank you, I didn’t know you would come..” You say insecurely.

“Of course, I would. I wouldn’t miss your performance for the world.”

It was exactly what you wanted to hear, what you needed to hear from him. You couldn’t fight the pull anymore and wrap your arms around him, pulling him in for an embrace. He takes in a sharp breath when he feels you pressed against him.

“Thank you, thank you for being there,” you whisper.

His hands gently caress your hair and he takes a deep breath in and out before speaking.

“I couldn’t miss it. I would never miss a chance of seeing you on stage doing what you were meant to do.”

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and you pull yourself away from him to see his face.

You take a moment to take in his beauty. He was trembling slightly as his hands wrapped around your back, gently trailing them down to your waist.

“Come with me, please.”

Your instincts tell you to turn away, keep your distance and maybe your relationship with him will stay strong. But your careless, irresponsible instincts tell you to let him whisk you away and let him do whatever he wants with you.

He can sense your hesitation and he softly caresses your face.

“Please, I can’t stand another second from being away from you. This week was so long for me. I wanted to see you the second you left. I’m sorry I was so harsh,” he says weakly.

“No, I understand, I forgive you. I missed you every day too.”

He kisses the back of your hand and sighs longingly, those lips making you feel warm and tingly inside.

“Please come with me,” he begs one more time.

“Okay,” you breathe.

He treads backward and doesn’t let his eyes leave you. He was in desperate need of your attention. You tightly hold onto his hand as you both make your way down to his lair. The cool air brushes against your skin but it makes you feel more alive. He makes you feel more alive. He did what he always does, he doesn’t tear his eyes off of you as he makes his way to the boat, making you feel like you’re in a trance.

The soft glow of the candles on the walls made this place feel warm. There was haze that danced on the lake’s surface, making it harder to see as you went further underground. The latticed gate rose as soon as you both got close to it. You look back at him, wondering how he does that. He was a man who was more powerful than you imagined it seems.

You reach the edge of the lake and he lifts you out of the boat this time. His strong hands pick you up from underneath your arms and spins you around momentarily before setting you back on the ground.

His breathing is shaky once again and so is yours. He takes his hands off of you like he’s afraid he might hurt you.

“I got you something for your big night,” he says low.

“No you didn’t have to,” you say weakly.

“Yes I did, you needed something to commemorate a wonderful night,” he says as he turns away to his room. You momentarily follow him but remember he didn’t like you in his room. That was his and it was off-limits to you. You had never been on the other side of the curtain and he normally never kept candles on in there so all you saw was a peek of darkness.

You turn to see if anything has changed since you were here. At his desk, there were charcoal sketches of you. You were taken aback by how much time he put into these. They looked life-like with how much detail they had. Some of the others that were scattered on the desk were just bits and pieces of you drawn. The first one you saw was just a sketch of your eyes. Your fanned-out lashes and your bright eyes looked back at you from the page. You couldn’t get over the details.

Another one you found underneath was a sketch of your hands. They looked small and delicate. He noticed every detail on you even the small little freckle you had on the back of your hand. There were dozens more you uncovered. Some of your lips, your neck even. The last one made you pause. It was buried at the very bottom of the pile and was a silhouette of you naked.

You had never seen yourself like this. This person in the picture was beautiful and flawless, you never viewed yourself like that. The way your curls fell perfectly down your back and how your eyes looked sultry with need. The way he drew your breasts was even perfect. It made you blush a bit that he thought of you in this much detail���.

You hear his heavy footsteps come closer and your eyes flash to him. He looks at the papers in your hands and he can see which one you’re looking at in particular. He stays silent as he walks closer to you.

“Sorry, I- I had to look at these. You draw so beautifully.” You say as you feel your cheek burn.

“Thank you, I have the most beautiful muse to inspire me…” he smiles. You could kiss him for saying such things. No man had ever shown you such adoration.

He takes the papers from your hands and looks at the silhouette one a bit timidly.

“I’m sorry for all of this but… you’ve just been in my head all week. It was torturous without you. I couldn’t think straight without seeing you when I closed my eyes. I had to draw your beauty in the most natural light…”

“Don’t be sorry I just, I have never seen myself this way” you say shyly.

“Well, you should… every part of you is perfection…” he says low. You try to hide your face from him but his fingers gently lift your chin back up to look at him.

“Look at me my Angel,” he breathes. Your eyes lock on him and his perfect lips. He’s struggling to say anything else and keep his hands off of you. He mutters something under his breath but tries to clear his throat to speak to you.

“I have something for you…” he says as he picks up a long box on the table.

He opened it for you and it was a beautiful, delicate gold necklace with a teardrop ruby that hung from the middle. It was stunning and sparkled even in this low light.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so beautiful… you didn’t have to do this,” you sigh.

“You deserve it, it was meant for you.”

He carefully turns you around and raises the necklace over your head and clasps it on you. You shiver at how close he is to you and try to not fall weak at his feet. He gently pulls your hair out of the necklace and lets your hair fall over one side of your neck. He leads you to a mirror next to the table and has you look at your reflection. He kept his hand on the small of your back as you stood there. It was impossible to not want his touch. It wouldn’t leave your mind even if you tried. You missed it more than you wanted to admit.

You try to refocus and look at the necklace on you. It looked great on you and complimented you perfectly. The chain was so intricate and laid gracefully down your neck. You look at him in the mirror and watch how he looks at you drunkenly. Those eyes made you feel on fire once again. It was suffocating the way you needed him to keep all of his attention on you. Both of his hands rest on your hips and he can’t help but squeeze them.

You don’t care if he told you to never touch him, you had to hold him, touch him anyway. You had to show the appreciation for what he did. You can feel the way his body stiffens when you wrap your arms around him. He couldn’t let himself enjoy your touch. You turn your head and kiss his cheek, loving the feeling of his skin on you. A low growl comes from his chest as you place another kiss on his face.

“Angel…” he sighs defeated.

“What?”

“I told you I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” You ask innocently, caressing his head and pressing your nose into the crook of his neck.

“I can’t touch you like this…”

You pull your head away from him and see how he’s losing every ounce of control he has left.

“The flame is back… you knew it wasn’t going to be put out for long.”

His jaw clenched and he looks at you intensely. You feel your heart pound and your core flutters at the way he’s looking at you.

“I know, I can feel it…”

Ravage me, make me cry out your name in a way you have never heard before, you think.

“Then take care of me, just like you said,” you challenge.

“No, I can’t, I promised myself that I wouldn’t touch you that way again.”

You pull at his jacket in frustration, “then break your promise. I can’t deny you.”

You feel his length harden and push against you. He grumbles how he can’t tell you no. Your chest heaves against his and your hands continue to pull at his clothes.

“Please, please I want you.”

“God don’t beg,” he grits through his teeth and momentarily rolls his eyes back.

You don’t care anymore, you couldn’t fight this attraction.

Your hands slither down to his cock and sigh when you feel how hard he feels through his pants. You feel your wetness pool and makes you weaker by the second.

“Please, I’ll beg all night if I have to. I need you. I need you to do what you’ve been desperately wanting to do to me since you knew I was back in this building.” Your voice trembled, unable to help how you were feeling and you didn’t want to fight it anymore. His breathing hitched and that fire in his eyes appeared. God, it was so dangerous but you loved it.

His hands grabbed onto your waist and he leaned in to kiss you with a fiery passion. You sigh a whiny sigh into his mouth and cling onto him for dear life. He holds onto you tighter, trying to keep you as close as possible. His tongue slips into your mouth and he groans because of it. You let his tongue lick and claim every inch of you.

You’re nearly out of breath with the way he’s kissing you. You can’t get enough of him. His hands are killing you with the way they are trying to consume and squeeze any part of you in his reach. He lifts you up off the ground by the backs of your thighs, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he takes you to your room.

You don’t stop kissing him until he gently lays you down in the bed. He hovers over you and looks at your trembling state. You were hoping he wouldn’t tell you no again. You felt how much he wanted you, there was no denying that. He unties his cape from his neck and unfurls it across the bed. The smell of him was intoxicating and you wanted to bury your face in all his clothes. He continues to unbutton his jacket and shirt, showing you his pale skin. You wanted to lick every inch of him and show him how much you wanted him. You didn’t care if his body was scarred, you loved it all. He unbuttons his pants with a bit of hesitancy. Your eyes plead for him to keep going.

He finally pulls his pants down and his cock comes free. He must have seen the way your eyes widen when you look at him because he has a smirk on his face.

“Are you sure you want me?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“And you want all of me?” He says as he brings his hand to his shaft and slowly pumps it.

“I do,” you tremble, pulling your nightgown up slightly. He bites his lower lip when he looks at your uncovered pussy.

He curses under his breath and brings his two fingers to your weeping core, rubbing softly and spreading the wetness. You moan loudly and you feel his hand spread your legs apart more. You move your hips with the motion of his fingers, putting more pressure on your sensitive bud. You let your head fall back, enjoying every minute of this but still wanting more from him. He groans too and you feel his two fingers push at your entrance. Your eyes shoot back open and cry out when he pushes his fingers deeper inside you and pumps them in and out. Your core makes the most lewd, sloppy noises the more he moves. This pressure builds inside you and he has you already losing all control.

Through fluttered eyelashes, you look at him in between your legs. He looks at you like he’s watching the most beautiful scene unfold before him and can’t tear his attention from you. That sultry look he has in his eye is too overwhelming and makes you whimper loudly.

“Doing so good darling, so damn wet for me hmm?”

You nod your head at him and watch his wet fingers sink deep into you. You gasp for air and ball the blanket underneath you in your grasp.

“I want you,” you gasp.

“Yes, what do need from me?”

“I want you to make love to me, please don’t let me wait any longer.”

He groans at your response and gets on top of you. He wastes no time and grabs the bottom of your nightgown and tears it off your body. Your nipples hardened with the cool air and he looks at you like you’re a feast. He didn’t know where to start. His mouth licks and sucks at your breast, making you arch into his mouth. He nips on the side of it, giving you a zing of pleasure running through your body. Your hands grapple onto his forearms and let him cover you in kisses and licks on your chest.

His other hand played with your sensitive bud. You wanted to cry to the heavens already. You were so pent up and couldn’t handle his hands on you again. His kisses move up to your neck, sucking there that made you gasp for air. The ache inside you worsened with every little tease he gave you. You felt his tip rest at your entrance and it made you throb with need.

He looks at your face before going any further.

“Tell me what you need. I want you to want this as badly as I do,” he says as he rubs his tip through your wet folds. You whine helplessly and look at him, begging silently.

“Take me, please.”

He groans at your answer and slowly pushes his length inside you. You gasped for breath instantly. He was so much more than you expected. He tried to swallow the loud groan he made when he first slipped inside you. You moaned at the way your walls wrapped tightly around him and couldn’t get used to the size of him. He was so much longer and the girth of him filled you more than you could handle. The searing pleasure burnt inside you and you couldn’t breathe right. He slowly moved, trying to get you used to him.

“Breathe my Angel, you’re doing so good,” he coos and kisses your lips. You do what he says and he moves more, pushing more of his cock with every thrust. You try to pull him closer, wanting to feel his body beat with yours. He stays hovered over you, watching his length plunge in and out of you slowly. He grunts quietly, pressing his lips together as he moves controlled.

It was so beautiful to watch him enjoy you. The way he bit his lip slightly the deeper he went inside you and the way his hair began to flop down over his mask as time went on. He was so attractive and it made every part of you feel on fire. Looking down at where you two connected made you squeeze tightly around him. You had never seen something so erotic.

You look up at him when you feel him push the rest of him inside you and stills, letting you get used to him like this. His eyes were still fiery but there was still his softness to him. You gasp for air and scratch at his forearms. He grunts at the sensation and takes one of his hands to your aching bud, rubbing it the perfect way and you feel more pleasure run through you. You felt your core relax a bit more and flutter at what he was giving you.

He sucks in a sharp breath when he’s touching you and feeling the wetness that’s spilling out of you.

“That’s it, darling, you take me so well.” He sighs.

The sound of his gruff voice sends tingles through you and you cry out helplessly.

“I know, I know darling, you keep enjoying all of it,” he coos.

You look back into his eyes as he slowly moves his hips, creating the most delicious sensation inside you. He can’t hide how overcome he is by his own feelings. His jaw falls slack the more he moves and looks down at your body.

“Do you like it? How do I feel?” You ask short and out of breath.

The question takes him by surprise and he moves a bit faster.

“Jesus you feel so damn good. Just like heaven.” He groans. You pull him at his shoulders to give you a kiss. You craved his lips on yours and needed him. He obliged and kissed you with a fervor. You moaned against his lips and that only made his hips drive into you harder. Oh God, you liked it. You liked it when he gave you more and made you almost see stars because of it. It was the most insufferable feeling on this earth. You wanted him to consume you from the inside out.

You writhe under him and wrap your legs around his torso, making him stay deeper as he moves. The sound he made because of that made your core squeeze around him. It was like a primal groan that he was holding back for years. Something inside him flipped and he took you harder. He pinned your hands above your head and held you there tightly.

His eyes had that dangerous look again but it only turned you on more.

“Yes, just like that,” you cry as you squeeze your eyes shut. His breathing became more ragged and the squelching of where you were connected became louder.

You feel his teeth at your neck and he nips there.

“Oh I see how you like it,” he growls in your ear, “you like it when I fuck you. You don’t like it when I make love. You like it when I lose control,” he hissed.

“Yes, yes I do,” you whimper.

He pounds his hips into you more and cusses profusely.

“Then say it. Tell your Angel how you like to get fucked,” his voice was thunderous and made you succumb to such demands.

“I-I do. I like it when you fuck me. I like to make you lose control,” he wept. He looks at you with that heated look and unwraps your legs around him. He spreads them open and he fucks you to the brink with his cock. This new angle has you on the edge of finishing. You couldn’t hold on any longer. His hips were unrelenting and claiming.

His eyes lock with yours and you can’t pull away. You had never seen him like this. With all the heated exchanges you’ve had over the years, that couldn’t compare to what he was giving you now. He was so far gone and liked it too much.

He pins your hands back above your head again and makes you cry out for him. You were completely at his mercy. You try to twist your wrists free but he is much stronger and won’t let you move. Your core flutters around him and he feels it too. He swivels his hips harder and kisses your face more. You can hardly kiss him back, just helpless cries coming from your lips.

“I can feel you’re close. Cum for me, don’t hold back,” he growls in your ear as he stuffed you to the brink with his cock. You feel your body stiffen at his words and feel pleasure pour over your whole body. Your heart races and you squeeze your eyes shut as stars take over your vision. He cusses in your ear as you squeeze his length repeatedly.

“Jesus darling don’t stop, you feel so good,” he groans. You can’t look at him, you’re too overwhelmed and your body is at the mercy of him. It felt like the waves crashing on the shore of a beach. One moment you feel your orgasm ripple through you and you have a moment to breathe. Then the next, he’s moving his hips a different way and it hits you all over again and somehow more powerful.

He slows his pace and you flutter your eyes open again. He looks drained, unable to move any further. He lets go of your wrists and quickly pulls out of you, heaving for air.

“So good darling…” he mutters as he places his hand around his length and watches as he covers your tummy in his seed. He had the most blissful expression on his face as ecstasy ran through him. His length was covered in your arousal and so was his hand now. You wanted to touch him, just to feel what it was like when he was cumming.

You sit up slightly to reach his cock and put your hand on his. He looks down at you stunned for a moment but doesn’t stop you. He takes his hand off of himself and has you do the rest. You used the same motions he was and pumped and twisted his length. He groans heavily and you feel his cock pulse repeatedly in your hand as more spilled out of him. It was so sinful and salacious to watch him do this but you couldn’t help but like it.

He sits back on his heels and looks spent. You slowly move your hand and wait for him to open his eyes again. Those piercing blue eyes stare into your soul and make you freeze.

“God darling you’ve made such a mess of me,” he sighs.

You smile at him and nod your head, “you’ve done the same to me,” you quip, looking down at the mess on your tummy and in between your thighs.

He takes your hand off of him and pushes you back on the bed again. He covers your face with kisses and grumbles to himself delightfully.

“I’ve dreamed of this. It was better than I could have imagined though,” you whispered in his ear.

He looks back at you not believing what he had heard.

“I have too… you still liked it even when I look like this?” He says motioning to his scarred body.

“Yes, of course I do. Believe me when I say that I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met,” you say shyly.

You can tell he doesn’t believe it but you try to make him see. You place both of your hands on either side of his face and get him to look at you. He always hated it when you touched his mask. It made him feel ugly and unwanted.

“Please look at me,” you sigh.

He flashes his eyes at you and bites the inside of his lip.

“I’ve never had anyone care for me as much as you just did. Please believe me, I beg of you.”

He slyly smirks and kisses your forehead.

“All this begging you’re doing is going to drive me wild. I can’t deny you anything if you beg for it,” he says low and sultry, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Then believe what I say to you,” you say firmly.

“Mmk, darling, I believe you… I just like it too much when you beg for me,” he sighs, placing a kiss on your neck. You whimper at his touch and grab onto his arm.

“Am I going to have to beg you to come and do that all again to me?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I would love to hear that come from your lips,” he groans in your ear, kissing you and pulling your hair in his hand, making your eyes roll.

•

•

•

Tagging:

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers

@dontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11@that-hotdog

@louisejgy86 @misspresley@cattcb@annapresley8

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@mh777

@50sexyshadestashionista

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@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway@gatheraheart @aphroditebabygirl@faeolwen @eapep @ladelinee

@iloveelvisss @ccab @buglass @its2amlol@peaceloveelvis

@theycametoconquertheearth53

[pastafossa]

I love you guys. I hope you know that.

Like.

Ok so I posted the new TRT chapter the other day. Obviously. And I had to force myself to do it, to click that final, 'post' button because at that last moment, this big wave of imposter syndrome hit (that had already hit on and off as I'd started working on the chapter again). And it was just this cycle of, 'It's been like 6 months since you posted a chapter or anything other than a couple one-shots and you're out of practice, I bet it's bad, it's probably terrible, I bet everyone's left and no one cares about this thing you love so why do you? What if no one likes it, you're gonna drop this and everyone's gonna god 'wtf is this, pasta? what happened?'' And so I forced myself to post it, took my meds to ensure I slept, and then kinda just bunkered down and slept/hid because I was halfway convinced that all the trauma in the previous six months had just bopped any ability I had to write.

Instead I got this outpouring, of just like, 'WELCOME BACK' and people telling me they're happy that mom is ok (which made me cry but in a good way) and they're sorry Cato passed away (more tears, but comforted tears), but also delightful jokes about the funny lines I put in or screaming over that romantic line or about missing Jane and the dynamics and comments about being eager for the next chapter, and how now I can be one of those AO3 authors with those notes of 'yeah my life blew up so I was delayed, but hey I'm back!' which... yeah. And much like when I first started TRT, I didn't... really expect that at all, and it's made me really emotional.

So if you've dropped into my ask box or the comments or the replies, seriously, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, because the excitement and love and just you all being the best little fam and continuing on this journey of TRT with me - a journey that has now included both Matt and Jane's journey, and a real life journey through a pandemic, a huge move, a passing of two of my pets, my mom's hospitalization and recovery, some heart issues, the cancellation and resurrection of the show, me meeting Charlie Cox and getting him to hold a red thread, my first wood carving event, etc - and I know I say this a lot, but you all really, really help me keep going when things get hard. I'd write TRT for nothing, I would, because I love this story and I intend to see it through, but ya'll just... I love you all tons. I'm hoping to get through the asks and fic comments and replies in the next few days, but I just wanted you guys to know that.

[untoldsoup]

Gunna have to disable anon asks for a bit due to spam influx. Hopefully it won't be for too long but it's getting ridiculous lol.

Also should have some more redraws up soon. I'm trying to finish the last few pages of the 'Change' redraw. I'm redrawing up to page 27, and I'm updating the rest of the pages. Pages 28-61 have been resized to A4 with a few minor art and text edits. Ill eventually post everything in its own posts, probably broken up into three posts, so the entire redraw/edit can be read as its own thing with a link in my master post too.

Also thinking of printing a few copies the remaster and doing a giveaway or something? Idk if anyone would want to try and win a printed version of the change comic.

Will probably do something simple like a 'reblog this post' type thing to win one. I'll have to think up the conditions and rules ect ect. Will probably make it international too as long as your ok will getting mail from the usa lol. I know my country isn't on the best terms with everyone right now 😭.

Hoping to have all this figured out by the end of April. Then I will start working on the next chapter of BTB In May for a little bit before my break for surgery and recovery. I won't be able to finish any chapters during recovery so BTB will be a bit behind on posting for a while until I'm recovered.

[chained-to-the-mirror]

Sanna’s JUNE READS

Another month, another pile of books! Let’s dive right in...

This month kicked off with an uplifting rage book. If that sounds strange, I recommend you pick up Rutger Bregman’s Humankind: A Hopeful History. You will see what I mean. (I read this in Finnish because that’s the version I had.) It’s hopeful because it tells the real tales behind some very nihilistic bits of history - or I should say ’history’, because apparently facts are much happier than what we are told in most sources. And that’s the reason for the rage: we are given a certain type of telling, based on very few facts; and then, because it’s amplified everywhere, we just take it for granted. No wonder people lose hope completely. Among the subjects are: the real Lord of the Flies, the truth about Easter Island, and what really happened in the Stanford experiment. Really, this book is a must read!

Up next, I entered a rabbit hole of Southern Gothic: three books this month (all recommended by darling @honeybeelullaby). First, I chose to read The Little Friend by the masterful Donna Tartt. And oh boy, did I fall in love! I’ve heard that this one is not actually universally loved in the same way as the next book on my list is, but it really should be. The Little Friend tells a tale of a family in the long aftermath of a tragic death - and one weird little girl’s determination to find out what really happened and to revenge the death. This weird little girl, Harriet, endeared me completely to herself. She is probably the best written child character I have ever read - so genuinely strange and wonderful in a way only little girls can be. I would give a lot to read more about her story. Other characters in the book are also completely jumping off the page… Really, the writing is up there with the best you can find. Another full recommendation!

After this, I had not had enough of Donna Tartt, so I went for the classic: The Secret History. I don’t have TikTok but I’m told that this book is all over booktok. I’m not even a little bit surprised, because this is prime material for dramatic obsession. I still haven’t quite recovered from my experience of getting to know the horrible ensemble of this book. All about a murder that is not a whodunit but WHYdunit. It’s so, so twisted and INTERESTING - I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s about a group of somewhat pretentious Classics students (working under an enigmatic and controversial professor) that end up murdering one of the group (not a spoiler because it’s revealed literally in the first chapter). This synopsis did not sell me on the story, so if it doesn’t sell you on it either, please give it a go anyway. You’ll be hooked from the first sentence and the 600+ pages fly by way too fast…

Something different next - Monstrous Regiment from Sir Terry Prachett. I read Night Watch last month and adored it, so I wanted more tales about my blorbo Sam Vimes. He’s one of the characters here, but not featured as heavily as in Night Watch. That’s fine though, because the other characters are wonderful (except for the ones that are not). This is a book about gender roles, and gender, and feminism - while also being a very entertaining story in its own right. I have a feeling I will be picking another Disc World book from the library in July… I just need to figure out which one.

Last Southern Gothic book of the month was the most visceral and disturbing. It’s Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn, and my skin is still crawling from it. Having said that, I have no regrets, because this story is haunting in the best way. You feel so incredibly unsettled, but you can’t look away - you need to KNOW what’s happening. I would approach this book with caution, because it has the potential to be very triggering. As a person with history with self harming, this would have been detrimental for me before my recovery. Now, it only showed me that I have come a long way, and I understand myself much better than I used to. It made me happy, while also feeling sickened by the other happenings in the story. There is also a mini series of this, and I’m told that it’s wonderful. I need to watch it.

I wanted something completely different after all the disturbing stuff, so I picked up an old Finnish classic: Ihmiset suviyössä (People in the Summer Night) by Frans Eemil Sillanpää. This is not AT ALL the type of thing I read in general, but the author has won the Nobel prize of literature, and this is his most well know work. It’s about two midsummer nights in the Finnish countryside in the 1930s - it follows a collection of people who end up being connected as the story progresses. As my nephew’s partner (who recommended this one) says, not much happens in it… but at the same time everything happens. All the big themes are present. The antiquated language was a slight hindrance to me, but not overly so. This was easily the weakest book of the month, but I can definitely appreciate the skilled way the story was built. And I did read it in one evening, so it couldn’t have been that bad. I am glad I picked it up, despite reluctance.

One book that has been sitting on my night table for months now, just waiting for me to pick it up, is Marie Kondo’s Spark Joy: An Illustrated Master Class on the Art of Organizing and Tidying Up. Now I finally chose to go through it. I read her first book early this year, and always meant to go directly to this one afterwards, but then other books kept coming up. Always seems to happen! Anyhow, this was a delightful read, and last night as I was finishing it up I felt an intense desire to get up and start organizing my bathroom things and my art supplies. I didn’t do it, but I will as soon as I can! I read this one in Finnish, because I got it off Vinted and I figured it doesn’t matter what language I read it in - the ideas are what matter. This book is meant to be a sort of handbook for more detailed practical advice for you tidying up process, and I think it works great in that sense, but it was also lovely to read from cover to cover.

Last book of June was a re-read, but also not… because it was Mary Poppins by P.L.Travers. I’ve read the Finnish translation and the original one, both multiple times, but this time I went for the Spanish version. I have been trying to learn Spanish on Duolingo for some years now, but for a long, long time I have not been committing to it anymore. So, I decided I will try to learn by immersion, in the sense that I will try to read actual books. I made a point of not stopping to look up words, even though there were a LOT of them that I didn’t understand - I wanted to learn to read the flow of the language. Because the story is so familiar to me, I was able to follow along decently. And I enjoyed myself as well! The Mary Poppins novels are some of my dearest childhood books that I have read at every age. They’re right up there with Alice, and Little Women and the sequels. Possibly even higher. Now I want to read the second one!

*****

I was surprised that I got this many books in this month, because there was a week at the beginning when my dear friend from Germany was visiting me, and I didn’t have time to read at all. But I made up for it in the later weeks. Reading is once again one of my favourite activities, and I couldn’t be happier. I still don’t take it for granted.

Thank you for reading, again! Watch this space for the July reads, next month.

[whatifitookalilnap]

I Burn For You

Chapter 1: Anything Can Happen

(Pairing: Korra x Asami)

(The Bridgerton au is officially here. Okay fair warning this is OMEGAVERSE so if that's not your thing it'd probably be best to skip this bad boy. However I will say that there is some major plot in this fic, omegaverse is just an addition. This fic includes Alpha Asami and Omega Korra because I like to be different. I'm going to try to make the dialogue Bridgerton ish mainly because I want everyone to yell 'make haste' and I wanted to challenge myself. In this au bending exists but the Avatar does not so Korra is a normal waterbender. Their social season is in Caldera (Rich people Fire Nation Capitol) instead of London like the show. As per usual the ao3 link will be posted right after this. Apparently I forgot to post this on tumblr so I feel a tad insane now?? Anywho please enjoy!)

"All I am saying is that there is no reason for my breasts to be touching my chin. Whoever decided this is the design necessary for women in high society despised us all," Korra grumbled.

"You may not be wrong, but I beg of you to keep your complaints about society to a minimum. I have enough to worry about this season," Jinora sighed.

"Yes, yes, I am well aware. I'll strike you a deal. While we are in Caldera, I will limit myself to one complaint about high society per day," Korra offered.

Jinora seemed to consider this proposal before nodding her agreement. Korra knew she'd see things her way.

"I accept your terms," the airbender agreed.

"Notice that we are not in Caldera yet, therefore I am still allowed to complain. I do wish they could have just let us fly in. I don't think I'll ever get used to travel by carriage," Korra frowned as the whole carriage jolted from yet another bump in the road.

"That is another very good point. I am unable to get used to riding by carriage myself. I miss Pepper terribly and it's only been a few days," Jinora pouted.

"I wish for nothing more than to have my polar bear dog with me. Naga is very likely going absolutely ballistic right about now. She can not stand confined faces," Korra sighed.

Unfortunately, one of the many rules of the social season is that all debutantes must arrive in carriages. The animal companions have to arrive in Caldera by ship. Thankfully the ship should arrive two days after the first ball season, which is tomorrow. They will be reunited with their animal companions soon enough.

Korra poked her head out of the window in the carriage to get a quick view of the scenery. They were starting to see a couple of small buildings, so they had to be getting close to their destination. She had to admit, it's a beautiful day out. Rare is the opportunity that Korra isn't completely surrounded by the harsh chill of the Southern Water Tribe. She may as well soak it all in while she can.

As Korra was starting to get lost in her own head, she heard a quiet sniffle. The waterbender quickly leaned back into the carriage to see the woman right in front of her tearing up for what felt like the hundredth time since they left the South Pole. Korra moved from her side of the carriage to sit right next to Jinora. The waterbender very quickly wrapped her arms around her dear friend.

"I understand how worried you are over Pema, but I beg of you to remember that she is doing much better than she was last year. She's eating solids again, she can stand, and she's been staying awake for much longer now. They predict she'll make a full recovery by the end of the year. If something happens, your father will write. Do not worry yourself over things you have no control over," Korra insisted.

Jinora leaned her head against Korra's shoulder and took in a deep breath. The waterbender sighed and rested her own head on top of Jinora's. Even if she's trying to comfort her friend, Korra's also been rather worried over Pema's condition.

"I never imagined that she would fall ill the year I'm supposed to make my debut into society. Do you not think it is a bad sign of some sort?" Jinora desperately asked.

"I think that you are thinking far too much. She is recovering. I urge you to focus on the positives," Korra insisted.

"I suppose you are right. I wish she was here with us," Jinora sighed.

"As do I," Korra agreed.

Truthfully, Korra's not even supposed to be here whatsoever. If Pema hadn't gotten sick, she'd still be back in the Southern Water Tribe. Though she and Tenzin insisted Jinora debut into society this year, they knew they'd be unable to chaperone. Korra had been more than happy to step in their place when asked her to.

While Korra is trying to think of anything else that could comfort her, the carriage suddenly lurched forward. Korra quickly grabbed onto Jinora to prevent them both from slamming their face into the seat right across from them.

Korra quickly stuck her head out the window in order to inspect whatever the hell was going on here. The footmen immediately hopped out of the carriage to inspect the damage.

"Spirits, I nearly got a concussion! Are you alright?" Korra worriedly asked her friend.

"Yes, I am fine. Are you?" Jinora frowned.

"I am quite alright, thank you," Korra breathed out while trying to calm her beating heart.

The footmen were thankfully able to steady the carriage, but now the issue is what the hell is happening and whether it can be fixed. It is so Korra's luck for the damn carriage to break down miles before reaching their destination.

To add even more stress, an unfamiliar scent reached Korra's nose which unfortunately signaled that they are being approached by a complete stranger. Damn, it was an alpha too. Korra could hear a voice speak, but the words were hard to make out. Then she-oh sweet spirits the voice is getting closer.

The fact that the voice came along with an unknown alpha scent is so close to where Jinora is made Korra spring into action. Her inner omega is incredibly protective, to the surprise of absolutely no one. Korra bent the water from her water skin into a sharp icicle. She saw a figure she didn't recognize at the window and that is when she decided to strike. Then very similarly to the way one would wield a knife, Korra pressed the sharp tip of ice out the window and into the unknown woman's neck.

"State your business at once," Korra hissed.

Korra almost gasped out loud when she saw exactly who she's pointing the icicle at. The woman she's about three centimeters away from killing is undeniably gorgeous. Bright green eyes stared right back at Korra with shock in her eyes while her silky black hair is tied up out of her face. The dress she's wearing is simple but clearly is made from expensive fabric. Even her scent is still pleasant despite the fact that there's an icicle pressed against her.

"I simply noticed your wheel had fallen off. I have a spare and the ability to replace it myself. Unless, of course, you choose to follow through with puncturing my neck with that icicle. While I may be a biased party, I would strongly advise against it. If I am stabbed, that would mean neither of us will be moving quickly for quite some time," the alpha woman calmly told her.

The waterbender looked down to see the woman does, in fact, have the exact wheel this carriage needs to start working again. So, admittedly, Korra was just a little bit too hasty with her whole stabbing agenda. She quickly transformed the icicle back into water and gave the stranger a very awkward smile.

"My apologies, I tend to get rather on edge when we travel alone," Korra awkwardly admitted.

"No need to apologize, I find a surprise attack to be rather exciting. Truly, you made my entire day," the woman grinned.

Spirits, she has a beautiful smile. Korra coughed into her hand in an attempt to hide the blush she knew was overtaking her face.

"Come on Jinora, let us get out of here so that our carriage can get fixed at once," Korra demanded.

Korra quickly hopped out of the carriage with Jinora in tow. The stranger was already on her knees to start fixing up the wheel. That certainly surprised Korra given how the dress the alpha is wearing is not cheap. The dress is already getting dirty but this very obviously rich woman is paying no mind to it. Korra assumed she was going to have one of her servants do the dirty work.

"I would like to thank you for assisting us with the wheel. We certainly would have been stranded without your help. My name is Jinora, and the one with murderous tendencies is Korra. Who might you be?" Jinora giggled. Korra scowled and shoved her elbow into her friend's stomach while the stranger let out a quick laugh.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Asami," the woman told them.

"Is it correct of me to assume you are going into Caldera for the upcoming social season?" Jinora asked curiously.

Judging by the clothes, the carriage she just stepped out, and the very expensive tools laying at her side, all signs pointed to yes.

"That I am. I take it you ladies are going as well to try your hand in the marriage mart?" the woman inquired.

"It will be my first season, yes. I am quite excited," Jinora smiled.

"I wish you the best of luck. And you?" Asami asked, now looking directly at Korra.

"Oh goodness no, I am far too old for that. I am merely Jinora's designated chaperone for the season. I am to return to the Southern Water Tribe the moment she is married anyhow," Korra snorted.

"Now I am worried the marriage prospects are rather bleak for me, given that we appear to be the same age. Just how old are you?" Asami asked.

"Well firstly, it is frowned upon to ask an omega their age. Second, I'm seven of twenty," Korra told her.

"If you are too old then I must have one foot in the grave. I turned eight of twenty but a month ago," Asami laughed.

"You are an alpha, you will be perfectly fine. That courtesy does not extend towards omegas like myself. I have readily embraced the spinster lifestyle," Korra joked.

That's just the way society is, and not just among nobility. Female omegas, male omegas, and female betas all got the short end of the stick because they can bare children. It's completely ridiculous, but that is how this insane world works.

"Ah, those utterly archaic rules never made much sense to me. It is not like omegas or female betas have a shorter life expectancy than the rest of the world," Asami scoffed.

"I could not agree more! What about you? Will you be trying your hand in the marriage mart this season?" Jinora asked while shooting glances at Korra. The hell is she staring at?

"Oh I doubt it. So many of my friends give me grief for it, but I prefer to marry for love instead of financially beneficial reasons," Asami explained.

"It makes perfect sense in my opinion. There is not much of a point in settling when you do not have to," Korra shrugged. Asami glanced at her before giving the waterbender a small grin.

"Precisely," Asami nodded.

There was a moment of silence, and Korra hoped conversing with this beautiful, kind, and interesting stranger would be over. She is still rather on edge to speak to people she does not know, no matter how attractive they are. Like always, Korra did not get what she wanted.

"You mentioned you are Jinora's designated chaperone this season? I do not believe I have seen you around the ton before. What are your familial ties here?" Asami asked lightly.

Granted, this is a fair question, one that Korra imagines she will be asked quite a bit in the upcoming weeks. Given that designated chaperones to the debutantes must have some biological noble relation, it makes sense that she would be curious. It's not like Korra's ever been seen in the ton before.

"You would not have. My parents pulled away from society years before I was born. My uncle is Lord Unalaq," Korra told her.

"The baron? Father of twins, one boy one girl?" Asami asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, that would be one," Korra unfortunately admitted.

"My condolences," Asami told her with a sympathetic smile.

Korra threw her head back and laughed. Asami grinned at the reaction, probably grateful she took the jab against her uncle well. Clearly, her uncle has not changed since they last saw each other.

"So you two have met," Korra grinned.

"Oh yes. I have done business with the man on several occasions," Asami nodded.

"Out of the two of us, I think you are the one who suffers the most by his hand. It is very easy to be his niece when we live on opposite sides of the world," Korra smirked.

"Yes, he is an acquired taste. Though I will say, the man is an excellent waterbender. It clearly runs in the family," Asami said with a teasing smile aimed at Korra.

A light blush painted her face at the reminder. Man, she really needs to work on that whole lunging first instinct.

"I really am quite sorry about that. And I do appreciate you being so willing to help us after my, you know, attempt on your life," Korra awkwardly sighed.

"I assure you, I am only teasing. Like I said, I found it quite exhilarating. I do not think my heart has ever beat that fast in my entire life," Asami laughed.

"I believe we may have two very different definitions of exhilarating," Korra smirked.

It really is quite relieving to know that the alpha really didn't seem too bothered over her near death experience. As Asami continued to work on the carriage, Korra found conversation between them to be more and more natural as time went on. It only felt like a split second had passed by when Asami stood up and proudly announced the carriage had been fixed.

"How much does that wheel cost? I should have enough to pay you back in full," Korra said while already moving to get her coins.

"Please, keep your money. I do not wish to take anything from you," Asami said while shaking her head.

"Are you sure I can not give you any money? You should get some form of payment for your troubles," Korra insisted.

"The knowledge that I helped a beautiful lady such as yourself to get to your destination safely is all the payment I need," Asami grinned.

Oh, Korra couldn't help it, she had no choice but to laugh. The alpha's smile only widened upon seeing Korra's reaction. Noble women are so damn dramatic.

"My, that was a good one. I would suggest writing it down," Korra giggled.

"I do hope we will meet again, Miss Korra," Asami smiled.

"For the sake of your health, it would probably be best if we did not," Korra laughed as she stepped into the carriage after Jinora.

The coachmen ushered them all out of there once the footman closed the door behind her. Korra turned to face Jinora and a very coy smile greeted her. The waterbender immediately became defensive and crossed her arms. She did not like the look Jinora is giving her.

"That woman was positively smitten over you," Jinora grinned.

Korra's cheeks took on a small shade of red despite her very intense eye roll.

"Please, she was just friendly," Korra scoffed.

"No no, she was friendly with me. You were an entirely different story," Jinora said.

"What could you possibly mean by that?" Korra sighed.

"She kept asking questions about you the entire time she was fixing the carriage. The woman only acknowledged my presence enough to be considered polite but she could not stop talking to you. Her attraction to you simply could not be more obvious," Jinora insisted.

"You must stop reading those romance novels. They are utterly ruining your perception of reality," the waterbender scoffed.

"Just because you are the blindest woman on the planet does not mean I am," Jinora smirked.

Korra closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears. You know, like a mature and responsible adult.

"La la la la I can not hear you," Korra childishly yelled.

"You are impossible!" Jinora laughed as she lightly shoved Korra.

The waterbender fought back a smile at seeing Jinora act all giddy again. She supposes it's not so bad to be the butt of the joke if it gets Jinora's mind off of worrying over Pema. The things Korra does for family.

********************

"We have arrived, ma'am. We shall wait here until you two are finished," the footmen said.

"Thank you, we should not be here longer than thirty minutes," Korra told the footmen with a polite smile.

With that, the two girls took off into the ton in Caldera. The place is bustling, as she expected it to be. Everyone's trying to get last minute items to show out for the first ball of the season so tensions are certainly high. Korra and Jinora had a bit of a different mission in mind.

They're currently on the hunt for a new quill and some ink. Aunt Kya loves collecting them so the duo decided it would be a nice thank you gift for allowing them to stay at her house for the season. Given the rather tragic circumstances that's fallen upon her as of late, Korra and Jinora only hope it can give Kya a bit of happiness.

"By the spirits, it can not be. Korra? Jinora? Could it really be you?" a voice called out.

Both named women turned around to see the faces of two men she thought she'd never see again. There stood Mako and Bolin in the flesh. They looked incredibly well too. The alpha brothers are adorned in fine suits where even the buttons look expensive. Now how in the hell did they find the money for that?

"I can not believe it! You two are truly here!" Bolin yelled before sweeping the two girls up into a big hug.

The two of them immediately wrapped their arms around the alpha man that pulled them into an embrace.

"Mako! Bolin! Oh, we were worried sick about you two! What on earth happened to you two? And where on Earth did you get those clothes?" Korra exclaimed as she pulled back from the hug.

"That is a story for another time. There is a terrible gossip monger here in Caldera known as Lady Whistedown. Let us just say it is best if that particular story did not get out. As for our new found riches, as it would turn out, I am the oldest alpha relative of an earl who passed away some time ago," Mako sighed.

"Earl Mako. I quite like that," Jinora giggled.

"And is there a reason why my best friend in the entire world is not embracing me after not seeing me for the past six years? What, you are simply too above me now that you have a title?" Korra teased with a raised eyebrow.

"I am a man of title who is unmarried. I do not wish to leave either of you in a compromising position," Mako explained.

Korra does appreciate the thought, especially with Jinora being on the marriage mart. Her, on the other hand!

"Oh please, I am a spinster! An old maid, if you will! I am getting my damn hug whether you like it or not!" the waterbender grinned as she readily embraced him.

"You are anything but an old maid, Korra," Mako laughed while returning the hug.

"That is what I keep trying to tell her. She is not one to listen to others," Jinora dramatically sighed.

"Are you two terribly busy? We simply must catch up if you have the time," Bolin insisted.

"We are looking for a gift for our aunt. I urge you boys to join us," Korra smiled.

The brothers nodded and tagged along on their little adventure. During this stroll, Korra learned that Bolin had managed to marry into one of the most influential families in their entire ton. Not only that, but he managed to get himself a love match. To top it all off, his wife is currently in her third trimester with their first child.

Mako, on the other hand, has been working tirelessly managing his estate as an earl. It really doesn't surprise Korra that the man is still single. He's always found romance and marriage rather trivial.

Korra could not be happier for them. She knew Bolin always wanted to find the love of his life and raise a family of his own. Not only did his dreams come true, but he's able to accomplish it while being wealthy.

Even with Mako unmarried, she is very happy for him as well. He has always been agonizing over providing for his brother and making sure he has everything he needs. His struggle for money has always been his biggest stressor in life. As an earl, he finally knows comfort. If anyone has ever deserved such a title, it's Mako.

By the spirits, she had been worried about these boys. Back when Korra was one of twenty, the two of them disappeared with absolutely zero explanation. No warning, no note, they simply left their home one day without trace. For years, Korra had feared the worst. She's never been happier to be wrong in her entire life.

Once they got Kya's gift, the boys escorted them back to their carriage. Unfortunately, Bolin and his wife would not be able to attend the first ball of the season due to the fact that she has a minor cold. While it's nothing serious, given her heavily pregnant condition, it's best for her health and the baby's for her to rest until she's fully recovered. Mako will thankfully be in attendance, so Korra will not have to face the storm alone. The boys helped Korra and Jinora into their carriage and gave them a final wave goodbye.

Kya's home was a mere few minutes away from the bustle of all the shops in Caldera. Korra grabbed onto the gift they bought for her and braced herself. She did not know what kind of state their aunt would be in. Jinora shot her a quick look before entering the home of their aunt who looked...perfectly fine?

"It is quite possible it could be my imagination, but does Auntie look a tad, what's the word I'm looking for?" Jinora mumbled.

"The complete opposite of mournful?" Korra offered.

"Yes, I suppose that would be a rather accurate description," Jinora agreed.

Kya seems to be in a wonderful mood. She's excitedly scurrying around the mansion, giving proper feedback for the maids to decorate the house, the woman looked like she was in her element. That wouldn't be considered unusual if Kya's wife hadn't died three months ago.

Given the fact that those two had a love match, Korra and Jinora were worried but understanding that she may not be up for hosting them this year. However, Kya insisted that the girls stay with her for the season. It was only natural to assume Kya was incredibly depressed and needed the company.

Clearly, that theory has been shot.

Kya looks absolutely radiant despite her black dress and onyx jewelry. Both the young omega girls are well aware that Kya always hosts the first ball of the season, so they knew they would be walking into a bit of chaos. They simply hadn't expected Kya to be handling said chaos so well.

Before either girls could even attempt to alert Kya of their presence, one of the maids gestured to the duo standing awkwardly at the entrance. Their aunt immediately lit up and practically sprinted to greet them.

"You girls are truly a sight for sore eyes! Oh, how I have missed you both terribly! If only Ikki could be here, then I would get to spend time with all three of my nieces," Kya wistfully stated.

Both Korra and Jinora accepted the fact that Kya absolutely crushed them in a hug, mainly because they were too shocked to move. Of all the things they were preparing themselves for how Kya would act upon seeing them, this was not on the list.

Korra and Jinora shot each other a look before wrapping their arms around their aunt. She supposes that this is better than wallowing in grief, but it's still rather alarming to see Kya so elated after such a tragedy.

"I simply could not be happier the two of you are here! Oh come in, come in, let us get you girls settled first and foremost. How was the journey here?" Kya asked them.

"It went quite well Auntie. Oh, we got you a little something. Just to say thank you for sponsoring us this season," Jinora smiled while giving the bag with quills and ink.

"Oh, how sweet! You girls didn't have to," Kya insisted.

"We wanted to. We are very grateful, after all," Korra assured her.

"Come, it is almost lunch. We must catch up. I want to know every single thing about your lives since I have last seen you," the older omega told them.

They spent the next couple hours doing just that. It's great catching up with Kya. It honestly feels like ages since she's seen her.

Kya had to leave them to their own devices for a while in order to get more hands on with the set up of the decorations for the ball tomorrow, so Jinora decided to drag her around the mansion to explore. Korra is quite curious to know the ins and the outs of her of the place she will be calling home for the next few months.

As they were making their way to the ballroom, a maid with various pins on a silver platter caught Korra's eye. Upon closer inspection, Korra realized that there are three groups of pins. One with alpha symbol, one with the beta symbol, and one with the omega symbol.

"Jin, do you know what those pins are for?" Korra asked while pointing at the platter.

"Everyone is required to wear the pins for the first ball that correlate with their secondary gender," Jinora told her.

"Interesting. I will simply take one of the beta pins. Oh, perhaps I could swipe one of the alpha ones," Korra pondered.

"You absolutely will not be doing that. Why would you even want to?" Jinora asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It is not like I will be participating in the season. My secondary gender as an omega is no one's concern but my own," Korra huffed.

Korra really does understand why the pins are necessary. It can be difficult to tell who is what secondary gender given the formal attire. People tend to dress according to their primary gender. In other words, all the men wear the fancy suits while all the women wear incredibly uncomfortable dresses regardless of secondary gender.

The main issue arises when it's difficult to identify alpha women or omega men. It certainly doesn't help that balls are in confined spaces packed with dozens of people, allowing scents to intermingle so much so that it's hard to identify who smells like what.

The pins are simply there to identify who is compatible with who. This is mainly to avoid alpha's attempting to court other alphas or omegas trying to catch the eye of other omegas. While pairings with two alphas or two omegas are not impossible, they are incredibly rare.

Usually, omegas can not stand the way other omegas smell in heats and it is very rare for them to even be attracted to another omega scent. It is the exact same situation for alphas. Plus, those two pairings naturally can not end up with biological children so they are frowned upon heavily by society. So sure, Korra understands why the first ball needs to identify who is who.

Point of the matter is that Korra is not participating in the season. Therefore, it is her most sincere belief that she should get to do whatever the hell she wants. It doesn't matter what pin she wears. Not like she's going to be married before the season's over.

Korra was snapped out of her internal musings when Jinora rolled her eyes. The waterbender fought the urge to smack her upside the head for that.

"By the spirits, you make it seem like being an omega is something to be ashamed of with how much you try hiding the fact that you are one," the airbender huffed.

"You know very well that is not what I am trying to imply. Obviously, living life as an omega can and should be done with pride. However, I can not deny I wish I had been born a beta. I envy them greatly," the older omega admitted.

"And just what is so wondrous about betas?" Jinora asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You can not seriously be asking me such a question. A world with no heats? Or ruts? No three weeks of pure agony taken away from me every year? You can simply be in full control of your body at all times? Oh, the things I would do for that life to be my own. Betas are the biological winners of the human race," Korra boldly declared.

"Perhaps, but they certainly are not society's winners," Jinora reminded her.

"I suppose that is true," Korra agreed.

It's rather unfortunate, but many betas desperately wish to be an alpha or omega. Alphas are always the ones with the most money, most control, and most respect. And omegas are the supposed 'ideal' partners for said alphas. The compatibility with their heats and ruts play a major factor into this preference.

While betas do have scents, many of which can be quite pleasant, they always pale in comparison to the scents of alphas or omegas. Plus, they do not have the instinctual animalistic urges like the other secondary genders so it's much more difficult for betas to keep up during ruts or heats.

Some betas want to be the powerful alpha, and others want to be the omega that ends up married to the powerful alpha. Given alphas and omegas heavy preference for each other, betas usually end up with other betas.

"Shame we always seem to want what we can not have," Jinora hummed.

"Unfortunately, that just appears to be a part of the human condition, Jin," Korra pointed out.

"I do understand what you mean about feeling jealous over the simplicity of being a beta. Heats alone are practically unbearable," Jinora sighed.

"They really are. I swear to you if I have to spend one more heat alone, I will have no choice but to knock myself unconscious every time so that I can get a bit of peace," Korra snorted.

"Oh please! And when exactly was the last time you spent your heat alone?" Jinora scoffed.

Korra rolled her eyes at the question. Given the fact that Korra isn't even in a courtship, heat partners are a necessity. She is one of the many unfortunate omegas that have heats so intense that they are in utter agony unless someone is there to help them sexually. It's never anything serious, just someone to keep her content during her heat so that she doesn't actually kill herself from the pain.

Really, it's no big deal. Jinora unfortunately can not benefit from heat partners due to high society's insistence that she must remain a virgin before marriage as an omega. Her heats are rarely worse than Korra's, but it's very obvious they're more intense than most heats tend to be.

"I will have you know I had to spend my last heat alone," Korra pouted.

"What ever happened to Tahno?" Jinora asked.

"The bastard ended up needing to travel north and only told me two days before my heat was set to arrive. The best part is that he knew of the journey for months," Korra scowled.

"How inconsiderate. I never liked that man," Jinora scoffed.

"Me neither," Korra agreed.

"So you simply worked through your heat alone? Must have been the first time in a while," Jinora pointed out.

"Not entirely. I had to take suppressants. I was in too much pain, they were the only things that helped," Korra guiltily told her.

"Honestly, Korra, you know how terrible those things are for your health. They merely weaken your immune system and ruin your fertility," Jinora scolded her as if Korra wasn't already well aware of this information.

"It was only the third time I have ever taken suppressants. I would need to use them much more than that for there to be any lasting impact. If it makes you feel any better, I was cleared by Auntie that nothing changed with me right after my heat," Korra assured her.

"You are just lucky. Come on, let's see what our options are for gowns during the ball tomorrow," Jinora insisted while dragging her away.

Ah yes, gown fitting. Someone kill Korra now.

********************

Korra fidgeted uncomfortably with the sleeve of her dress as she stood in line to get into her own damn temporary home. Despite the fact that Jinora and Korra live in the place where the ball resides, only the lady of the house can actually stay inside. Her and Jinora have to stand outside in line with the rest of the attendees.

The waterbender tried not to look so damn uncomfortable in what she wore, but she really can't help it. The dress she's wearing is a light shade of blue with gems sprinkled all over. Her matching tiara, necklace, and earrings matched the dress and were just as sparkly. It didn't suit a spinster like her at all. Korra tried wearing one of the plainer dresses that was just fancy enough to be appropriate for a ball, but Jinora practically shoved this dress on her.

Finally, the line started moving. In an attempt to distract herself, Korra decided to mess with Jinora. It's what the little brat deserves, after all.

"I'm going to wear one of the alpha pins," Korra whispered into her friend's ear.

"See, people like you are exactly why those pins are necessary," the airbender hissed into her ear.

Korra giggled as they reached the woman carrying the platter with all the pins. Before she could even pretend to swipe an alpha pin, Jinora quickly snatched two omega pins before yanking Korra down the steps.

"You are as stern as your father," Korra smirked as she fastened her pin at the top of her dress.

"Take that back. Take that back at once," Jinora hissed playfully.

"Oh sorry, can not hear you over the fact that you have to meet the Fire Lord now," Korra grinned.

To Korra's extreme delight, Fire Lord Izumi seemed absolutely captivated by Jinora. As she should, of course. Jinora is simply perfect. Seeing the Fire Lord's obvious favor towards the airbender caused suitors to flock to her almost instantly. And so the games begin.

Korra stood at her side, looking and acting as the intimidating chaperone she is. No suitor is safe from her judgmental stares or intrusive questions. Honestly, it's quite fun being so pushy. This is probably one of the only times alphas and beta men will cower before her, so Korra is going to enjoy this little power trip while she can.

The moment Jinora got swept off to the dance floor is when Mako made his grand appearance. Korra immediately made her way over to the firebender. They still had a lot of catching up to do, after all.

As the two of them were casually chatting about how their lives have been going in the years they haven't been able to see each other, Korra spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Oh fuck this guy.

Making direct eye contact with her is none other than Lord Unalaq. Korra's most detested uncle. The rotten apple of her eye. And now he's walking towards her. This will not be fun for Korra.

"Lord Mako, Korra, what a pleasure it is to see you both. I hope the two of you are quite well. Now, Lord Mako, if you do not mind, I would like a moment alone to speak with my niece," Unalaq told them.

Mako gave her a questioning look, waiting for confirmation if he really should leave. Korra resisted the very strong urge to sigh. She supposes that a little confrontation with her uncle would be inevitable. Might as well get it over with.

"Go ahead, I'll meet with you in just a moment. Family matters to discuss and all," Korra nodded.

"Alright then. Have a most pleasant evening, Lord Unalaq," Mako said with a rather stiff smile.

"And you as well, Lord Mako," Unalaq said.

They waited for Mako to get out of earshot before starting a conversation Korra knew would be insufferable. Unfortunately, it was unavoidable. Spirits only knows her job is going to be hard enough without his interference.

"And just what are the likes of you doing here? You certainly can not be attempting to try your hand at the marriage mart. We both know you are far too old for that," Unalaq smirked.

"Is it not obvious? I am attending a ball," Korra drawled.

"You know exactly what I mean. Do not get smart with me, girl. People like you do not belong in high society," Unalaq scoffed.

"Well, given the fact that many people in this crowd are just like you, I think I would rather be shot in the head than belong in a place like this," Korra said while rolling her eyes.

"You are as arrogant and abrasive as your father," Unalaq scowled.

"And you are as rude and unsettling as your children. Apples never fall particularly far from the tree, now do they?" Korra quickly shot back.

"Why are you here, Niece?" Unalaq asked very impatiently.

Korra decided that she's been mean enough. For now, that is.

"If you must know, I am simply here to assist Jinora with her first season. I am unsure of whether or not word has gotten to you about Pema falling ill. I am here in the place of her parents. Once she is married, I am to return to the Southern Water Tribe," Korra explained.

Unalaq seemed visibly more relaxed after this information which is a shame, mainly because Korra never wants to have a positive effect on her uncle in any way. As tragic as it is, this is a necessary price Korra must pay for peace.

"Very well then. I merely wanted to make sure we are on the same page. You must join myself and my children for dinner sometime. We are family after all," Unalaq hummed.

"To my great dismay," Korra deadpanned. Unalaq ignored the jab. It's not like he disagrees, anyways.

"In that case, I shall leave you to it. I do hope you know I will be rooting for Jinora. The sooner she is married, the sooner I never have to see your face again," Unalaq smiled in the slimiest way possible.

"That is certainly one thing we can agree on," Korra drawled.

Unalaq merely rolled his eyes and walked away. Finally. Korra was about to make her journey back to the Mako when she gave a glance over to Jinora to check if she is alright. Jinora was already looking at her. She smiled at Korra then gave her a wave. The older woman immediately started making her way over to Jinora.

Before coming to Caldera, the two of them decided to make a distress signal in case a suitor started making Jinora uncomfortable. A nod and a thumbs up meant Jinora was fine, while a smile and wave meant to get her out of there immediately. The airbender looked relieved when Korra made her way to the them.

"Honestly Jinora, what is the matter with you! How hard is it to stay at my side?! It took a mere moment of me looking away for you to completely disappear! I have someone waiting to be introduced to you! We must go at once!" Korra snapped, playing into the bitchy chaperone role.

"My apologies Korra. I am very sorry to trouble you, my lord, but I must follow her. She is my chaperone, after all," Jinora said, feigning disappointment.

"Oh come now, can she not stay for even a moment longer?" the irritating lord asked.

"I am afraid not. She operates on a tight schedule," Korra frowned.

The unknown lord looked down at the omega pin on her neckline. Then, the damn lord grabbed Jinora's wrist and held on tightly. It was not enough force to hurt the younger omega, but it was certainly enough to keep her in place. It would appear that since Jinora's designated chaperone is an omega, the bastard thinks can do whatever the hell he wants.

"What is the harm in letting us talk for just a minute more?" the lord asked insistently.

Korra clenched her jaw as she tried to think of her next move. They're in a public space with eyes everywhere, so it's not like the man can do serious physical damage. It's still a major problem that he's essentially holding Jinora against her will. Korra didn't know what she could do to make this guy let up without using force. Fortunately, she did not need to do anything at all.

"Lord Haroh, I must speak with you at once," the soothing voice snapped sharply.

To Korra's extreme surprise, the voice came from the woman who helped fix their carriage. Asami's sudden appearance startled Lord Haroh to the point that he loosened his grip on Jinora. It was thankfully enough for her to break free and rush to go behind Korra.

"Lady Sato, a pleasure," Lord Haroh managed to say.

"Indeed. And I am quite thrilled to make your acquaintance again Lady Korra. Lady Jinora," Asami smiled kindly.

There's no way. There is actually no way that the woman who already saved her from being stranded is saving her again. And damn does she look good doing it. The dark red dress was simply too stunning for words. The glint of the alpha pin on her sleeve caught Korra's eye at once. Spirits, it should be illegal to be that attractive.

"Lady Sato, while you know I am always happy to talk business with you, but can it not wait?" Lord Haroh asked. At this, Asami stepped right in front of Korra and Jinora.

"No, this is urgent. I look forward to seeing more of you both later on tonight, but this is of the utmost importance. I do hope you understand," Asami told them.

"We would never want to interrupt a serious business matter. We shall leave you both to it," Korra said while yanking Jinora away.

"I can not believe we are seeing her again so soon! It must be your lucky day," Jinora teased.

Korra was too freaked out to comment on that. If Korra felt guilty about nearly killing Asami before, she's damn near depressed over it now. Not only is the tall woman gorgeous, but she managed to save her and her friend twice now.

Korra glanced over her shoulder to find that Asami was already looking at her. Upon noticing her gaze, Asami smiled and gave her a slight nod of acknowledgement. Korra very gratefully gave her a nod back. Thankfully, they managed to find Mako just a moment later.

"Honestly, I was wondering where you have been. I assumed you got lost," Mako snorted.

"Oh do not even start, Mako. We got a little held up," Korra huffed.

"What do you mean held up?" Mako asked.

"One of the alphas got a tad too insistent. Korra had to come help me and he refused to let me leave until Lady Asami intervened," Jinora rushed out.

"What? Where is the bastard?" Mako frowned while scanning the crowd.

"Do not do anything stupid. He is right there," Korra said, pointing out Lord Haroh still talking to Asami.

"Huh, so you were talking about Lady Sato," Mako mumbled.

"Oh? Is she not Asami?" Korra asked in confusion.

"Yes, her name is Asami Sato. What a coincidence it is that one of my closest friends managed to get you out of such a bind," Mako told her.

Wow. Having a last name is pretty rare, even among nobility. Asami Sato is a very interesting character, Korra is certain of that. Wait, friend? Why on earth would Asami want to be friends with Mako? Maybe she met Bolin first or something.

"Interesting. I for one can not believe she would associate with the likes of you. How did you two meet?" Korra asked.

"Well first of all, you associate with the likes of me so I can not help but wonder what that says about you. Second of all, she actually took me under her wing when I ended up getting my title. It was quite easy for her to figure out I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, so she helped me turn into a competent lord. I did not even have to ask her to. She simply saw me struggle and wanted to help. I would not be where I am today without Asami," Mako told her.

What, so now Asami just helps strangers succeed without asking for anything in return? This woman is too perfect, there has to be something terribly wrong with her.

"It is an admirable trait to be so willing to help those in need," Korra acknowledged.

"Oh, of course you would say that," Jinora laughed. Korra scowled and nudged her friend with her elbow.

"What is so funny?" Mako asked the still giggling airbender.

"Asami actually helped us once before. The wheel on our carriage broke and Lady Sato was kind enough to give us a spare and replace it," Jinora smiled.

Mako's eyebrows practically shot up to his hairline once she explained how they met. Then he got the most shit eating grin spread across his face before he burst into laughter.

"I can not believe it, you are the carriage girl! Oh, Asami mentioned meeting you," Mako cackled.

"And just why did she say?" Korra asked, unable to fight against the curiosity.

Truly, Asami probably thought Korra was psychotic. After all, she gave the poor woman a near death experience upon their first meeting. Even so, she had an irrational desire to know what Asami thought about her.

"What is said between alphas, stays between alphas. It is an unspoken rule, you see," Mako smugly told her.

"Well the spoken rule is that you do what I say or else I beat you up, so tell me what she said at once," Korra childishly demanded.

"I do not see why it matters so much, you know I-finally! By the spirits Kai, I thought you forgot about the ball altogether," Mako sighed.

"I am a busy man, Mako. I am here now, am I not?" the young alpha man sighed.

"No one needs your excuses. Please, meet a couple of old friends of mine. This is Miss Korra and her charge, Lady Jinora," Mako introduced.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both. I," Kai started, but then trailed off as he stared at Jinora.

If Korra was stupid enough to believe in something as ridiculous as love at first sight, this must be it. This Kai fellow is looking at Jinora as though she personally hung all the stars in the sky. Jinora is not doing much better herself. For a girl so calm and poised, her cheeks turned a light shade of pink and she struggled to say anything at all.

"May I have your next dance, my lady?" Kai managed to blurt out

"Indeed you may, my lord," Jinora told him with the most dazzling grin.

Mako and Korra watched as Kai escorted Jinora to the dance floor. Honestly, the two of them look positively giddy to be around each other. It was as cute as it was alarming.

"Did you just see what I just saw?" Mako asked her.

"I believe I did, yes," Korra mumbled.

"I do not think I have ever seen Kai quite so taken with anyone, especially not so soon upon meeting them. He is an obnoxious little brat once you get to know him, but he is not typically so eager to interact with strangers," Mako noted.

Oh, damn. The waterbender was too awestruck of the sight before her that she forgot to interrogate the boy. Korra opened her mouth to ask a couple questions about Kai, but was soon cut off by another voice joining the conversation.

"I swear if I ever have to speak to Lord Haroh again, I'm poisoning my own drink just so that I never have to deal with him again," Asami drawled.

"Ah, the hero joins us at last," Mako smirked.

"That man has always been utterly insufferable. I am quite sorry you had the misfortune of meeting him," Lady Sato sighed, turning to Korra.

"She is completely right. You know I-oh dear," muttered Mako as he stared behind Korra.

"What is it?" Korra asked.

"I must go at once. If a woman named Lai comes up to you, I was never here," Mako hissed as speed walked away.

"What on Earth was that all about?" the waterbender asked.

"It would appear that Lai has officially arrived. The girl is absolutely smitten over Mako and keeps trying to gain his affections. She was quite persistent last season," the alpha told her.

"Huh, infatuated with Mako. So tell me, what is wrong with her?" Korra snorted.

Asami laughed at the jab against Mako. Korra, embarrassingly enough, felt a surge of pride course through her at the accomplishment.

"I would like to thank you for the interference with that lord, Lady Sato. It would appear the only opinion Lord Haroh respects is another alpha's," Korra grimaced.

"It was no trouble at all. And please, just call me Asami, there is no need for such formalities. Any friend of Mako's is a friend of mine. Besides, after nearly puncturing my neck with an icicle, I would say we have already been rather close," Asami teased.

Korra blushed at the memory of her overreaction. Truly, she's just relieved that Asami doesn't seem to hold it against her. The taller woman is even joking with her about the near death experience. Korra supposes that if Asami can find humor in the situation, so can she.

"Honestly, Lady Sato, you focus far too much on the past," Korra playfully huffed.

"This happened two days ago," Asami said with a raised eyebrow.

"And is that or is that not considered the past?" Korra smugly asked.

"I must admit, you have an excellent point," Asami laughed.

"You will come to find that I always do," Korra grinned.

Honestly, the omega assumed Asami would only chat with her for a couple of minutes before going off to find a friend or some other familiar face. Instead, the two of them spent most of the night talking about anything and everything. Korra doesn't think conversation has ever flowed as well as the ones she has with Asami.

Then the orchestra started to play one of her all time favorite songs. Auntie really did know her too well. It brings back so many wonderful childhood memories for her.

"Ah, I absolutely love this song. My poor father had to suffer as I stood on his toes while I was learning this dance," Korra said while giggling fondly at the memory.

"Well surely we must dance, then. I do ask you tell me in advance if you need to stand on my toes. I would like to emotionally prepare for that," Asami smiled while extending her hand. This woman is insane.

"I do not even have a dance card," Korra told her with a raised eyebrow.

"Neither do I. We already match," Asami grinned, knowing full well as an alpha she doesn't need one.

Korra laughed and accepted her hand because honestly? Why the hell not? Korra's a spinster, she has no use for propriety. She's just going to have to ignore the fluttering in her stomach when Asami's hand made contact with her own.

Jinora, who is still dancing with Kai, made eye contact with Korra approaching the dance floor with Asami. The airbender's eyebrows practically shot up to her hairline at the sight. Korra grinned and winked. An amused look overtook Jinora's music as she continued on with her dance.

Naturally, because apparently Asami's just loveliness incarnate, she is a very good dancer. She is such a good dancer, in fact, that Korra hadn't even realized that the song they came here for already ended. They were halfway through the second song before she had noticed. Asami Sato is truly something else.

The two of them got refreshments right after that second song ended so Asami continued on with her story of how her father almost blew up her childhood home. Just like when Korra was conversing with her by her carriage, Asami makes time fly. Before she knew it, the ball was winding down.

"I know I already said it, but I would just like to say that I truly am sorry for almost hurting you when you found us stranded. I can not thank you enough for helping us, even after I acted the way I did. Especially when you saved us yet again," Korra sincerely told the taller woman who was preparing her exit.

Asami's gaze softened at the sincere apology Korra gave her. The waterbender tried not to think about how pretty her expression is.

"I assure you I never once held it against you. It was my honor to be able to assist you in your time of need," Asami gently told her.

Yeah, no. She really is too perfect. She has to be a mass murderer or something.

"Though I do think you were wrong the last time we spoke," Asami mentioned.

"Me? Wrong? Absolutely preposterous," Korra grinned.

"Yes, it may very well be a once in a blue moon situation. After tonight, we managed to spend an extended period of time together without you causing me any bodily harm. Perhaps you are not as bad for my health as you thought you were," Asami smiled.

"That is certainly progress if I ever heard it," Korra laughed.

"Indeed. Now that I am fairly confident my health is no longer at risk with you, I simply can not wait for our next encounter," Asami told her.

"You can not get too comfortable, I am a bit of a wild card," Korra playfully warned.

"I have no doubt about it. I look forward to making your acquaintance once more, Korra," Asami smiled.

"Do make sure you get home safe, Lady Sato," Korra grinned.

"Well if that is your command, then I suppose I simply have no other choice," Asami laughed.

The alpha bowed her head before exiting the ballroom with the rest of the attendees. That was one hell of a ball, no doubt about it. Korra drifted back to Jinora and Aunt Kya to wait for the rest of the stragglers to head home. Once the final guest had left, Jinora practically fell on the wall right beside her.

"I simply must get to bed before I collapse from exhaustion," Jinora dramatically whined.

"Agreed, and I was not even dancing for half as long as you did. Perhaps society does have a point. I am old," Korra groaned. In her defense, she has been moving around constantly to watch Jinora like a hawk.

"If I hear the words 'I am old' come from your mouth ever again, I am going to smack you. Now before you two retire, I would like a dance," Kya grinned.

She gestured to the orchestra who then played out a song meant for three people to dance to. Korra laughed and shook her head at the familiar tune.

"Really? After these many hours of dancing, you insist upon one more?" Jinora asked even though she was already falling into step with the music.

"Oh please, that was you girls dancing with potential suitors. Now, you're dancing with your favorite aunt. I can assure you that dancing with me is much more exciting," Kya laughed.

Jinora and Korra glanced at each other and as the song continued on. She's not entirely wrong, of course. Kya is probably one of the most interesting people on the planet. Those lame suitors simply can not compare.

As the three women giggled and twirled around the dance floor, Korra had to come to the realization that she has already been enjoying her time here in Caldera. She was able to reunite with old friends, is very likely gaining a new one with Asami, and most importantly is that Jinora is absolutely thriving. A little bit of silly dancing with family is quite deserved.

Perhaps the social season in Caldera won't be so bad after all. What could possibly go wrong?

[oopsallgoalies]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 7

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

It’s been a week since all hell broke loose in the locker room. It turns out that Maverick and Dare’s marriage really isn’t public knowledge since all everyone’s been talking about is how Iceman had managed to get one of the best coaches in the entire NHL and as an assistant coach at that. Only you and Jake know the extent of the chaos that’s officially descended on the team.

Jake’s officially exempt from practice and the two of you spend pretty much every single day together as you start developing a recovery plan for him. You’d been bouncing between clinics and hospitals getting tests and scans done and you’ve finally managed to book Jake in for the final scans he needs tomorrow with one of your former medical school colleagues. Unsurprisingly, the Cedars-Sinai Kerlan-Jobe Institute had been staunchly unwilling to help you out, NHL or not, so you’d been forced to look elsewhere to get Jake examined. You couldn’t help the guilt you felt that your own personal issues were keeping Jake from getting the care you deserved but it’s not like there was anything you could do.

That’s what found you here, sitting in a baby pink chair across from Zam’s desk as she chomps ferociously on your peace offering of green gummy bears from your office stash, clicking away at her computer, scanning the documents and emails you’d brought for her to examine. You’d been sitting in silence save for the sound of Zam’s chewing and clicking for the last ten minutes. She finally sits back, an annoyed frown on her face. “This is bullshit.” You sigh, you’d always thought so but every lawyer that had glared down their nose at you had always insisted otherwise. “You realize if you were a man you wouldn’t be dealing with most if any of this.”

“I’m acutely aware, yes.” You slump back into your chair. “Instead I barely have a career, and the one that I do have is constantly being affected by this. I’m literally having to beg doctors to see Jake.” Zam glares harder at her screen.

“A physician’s reputation shouldn’t keep a patient from getting seen.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying, but no one seems to care.” You’re tired, downright exhausted from the grueling and frankly humiliating phone calls that had taken up most of your week. Jake was the only thing keeping you sane amid all this. Unsurprisingly, the two of you had gotten even closer over the past week with all the one-on-one time you’d been spending together both at and outside of work. He was more open, and despite the difficulties he was facing with physical therapy, he smiled and laughed with you in a way you knew was genuine. That only made you want to lean on him more, but you knew you couldn’t. You didn’t know if you’d be able to handle losing him when he found out. You could take the rest of the world being disappointed and disgusted with you but from Jake? It would break every last bit of your resolve.

The last thing you want to do is cry in Zam’s office but finally feeling some solidarity and support from someone else is overwhelming. The look in her eyes as yours blur with tears isn’t pity, it’s pain, solidarity in the shared experience of being a woman in this industry. A knock at the door breaks the moment of vulnerability and you’re blinking back your tears as Zam pushes her pink tissue box towards you, pausing to make sure you’re professional again before she calls out to the knocker to come in.

A familiar blonde head sticks its way in. “Hey Zam, I’m looking for Bugs, Nat said-“ His eyes fall on the back of your head. “Hey Bugs, there you are!” You turn in your chair and give him a smile.

“Hey Jake, sorry I’ll be right there.” You glance at the clock on Zam’s wall. “Sorry, I lost track of time.” Jake shrugs, pushing through the doorway and coming to lean against the back of your chair.

“S’all good, Bugs. I don’t have anywhere else to be.” You know he means it in a nonchalant and completely platonic way but you can’t help the way your heart skips at his words. Then he’s leaning over where you’re seated to grab at the tissue on Zam’s desk covered in gummy bears. You can’t see much past Jake’s torso blocking your field of vision but you hear the slap. “Ow!” Jake yelps as he recoils, holding his hand and pouting at Zam as she scowls at him.

“Paws off, Seresin.” You giggle and Jake glares down at you.

“Whose side are you on, Bugs?” You roll your eyes.

“You know where I keep the stash in my office, Jake, you don’t have to steal from Zam.” He gives you an exaggerated pout and you swat at his arm gently. “Go grab some of your own and I’ll meet you in the therapy room in ten.” He grumbles but takes his leave, dropping a large hand onto your head to muss your hair up in a silent goodbye. You feel your cheeks pinken at the casual touch.

The moment the door swings shut, Zam lets out a breath and you look over to see her giving you a look. “What?”

“Oh girl, please tell me you didn’t go and fall for him.” Your face goes bright red. Now there’s pity in her eyes as she shakes her head.

“You’re setting yourself up for failure, you know that right? As cute as the two of you are, and you’re VERY cute, annoyingly so, actually, you know there’s no universe in which that can happen, right?” Your conscience has graduated from a nagging voice in the back of your head to a frowning woman in a lilac suit sitting across from you. You let out an exhausted sigh before whispering so quietly that you’re not even sure she’ll hear you.

“I know.” The tears are back and you hate that she’s right. There’s no future for you and Jake. Yet you can’t help the way your heart jumps every time he fixes that smile of his on you like it’s your personal spotlight and he thinks you deserve to shine. You’d asked him for professionalism at work and he’d delivered, keeping a respectful distance between the two of you at all times and dialing his flirting down to playful teasing. You knew he was trying for you so why were you so incapable of doing the same?

“Oh, sweetie.” Zam’s getting out of her chair and coming around her desk to wrap her arms around you. You tremble in her arms as the traitorous part of your brain wishes it was Jake holding you. The two of you are silent except for your occasional sniffles as you try to hold yourself together. “This is more than just a little crush, isn’t it?” She finally whispers. You nod over her shoulder because you don’t trust your voice right now. She straightens then, leaning against her desk as she looks you in the eye. She looks like she’s debating something before she swallows and speaks. “I’m gonna start looking into some stuff for you guys.” Your eyebrows shoot straight up. This wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. She shakes her head. “There has to be a way for this to work.”

“Zam…” you’re at a loss for words at her kindness and solidarity.

“Hey now, this is my job, Bugs, remember? Sticky situations are my specialty. Plus, there’s no universe in which I’m letting Cyclone fire you without a fight, he’s a prick.” Your laugh gurgles up past your shed tears.

“Thank you, Zam, I mean it.” She just gives you a sad smile.

“Just be careful okay? Just because he’s a golden retriever in hockey pads doesn’t mean he’s not still a guy. He’s no Javy Machado, but just make sure you don’t let him break your heart.”

You snort, thinking back to your conversation with Jake about Javy’s dating habits or lack thereof. “How’s that going by the way?”

Zam groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t get it, how can a guy that’s that sweet be such a slut?” You laugh at that. “He’s thirty-three for God’s sake, he needs to grow up instead of going through girls like he’s still a frat boy.” She raises an eyebrow at you. “His STD report really came back clean?”

“Really!” You insist. You hadn’t known that it was anything questionable when you’d gotten the results, but you hadn’t really known much about Javy back then.

She groans again, running a hand down her face. “These boys are going to be the death of me, I swear. And not just the younger ones.” She gives you a pointed look. “Cyclone is going to put me in an early grave.”

“Maybe we should get plots next to each other.” You muse and the two of you burst out laughing before Zam sobers before leaning in and whispering.

“Did you know that Mav and Dare are MARRIED?!” You give her a grim smile and nod.

“Jake and I accidentally found out when he invited us over to dinner.”

“There’s no way that doesn’t go absolutely ballistic.” She shakes her head, laughing nervously. “Not to mention the fact that she’s way more qualified than him and SHE’S the ASSISTANT coach. Feminism is dead.” She frowns as if she’s just thought of something. “You think Ice knows that they're married?” You frown back, you hadn’t considered it.

“I think there’s a pretty good chance. I mean why else would he call HER of all people? But a better question is why did she come here in the first place? She’s been coaching the Penguins for 26 years and they’ve been really good, there’s no reason for management to want her gone so that means she left. Mav said they separated on good terms, so maybe he asked her to come here and help?”

Zam shakes her head. “No, Mav didn’t know she was coming. He found out when we did” This is news to you and your jaw drops. “And look I love Mav, I really do but Dare’s been my inspiration for as long as I can remember. She’s the reason I’m here, doing this, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to the story than we know.” Before you can answer Zam, there’s another knock at the door. Zam calls out for them to come in and Maverick opens the door.

“Hey ladies, Zam you ready for our meeting?” Zam glances at the clock before cursing and you follow, having both lost track of time. You get up out of the chair, relinquishing it to Mav as he comes in and mouth thank you to Zam before excusing yourself.

***

You sigh, getting up from where you’ve been sitting next to where Jake’s lying on an exercise mat, observing while he does some heel slides, stretching his knee gingerly. “How’s the pain?” You ask, jotting a few notes down on the clipboard at your side.

“Better than yesterday,” Jake confirms as he smiles at you. He’s working hard and it’s showing. So far his recovery has been smooth. You smile back.

“Remember, we have the last of your preliminary scans tomorrow morning so we can’t be late.” You fix him with a look. Jake’s taken to joining you and Pudding on your morning walks aided by a pair of crutches so he can hop along. Unfortunately, both Pudding and her owner are all too excited for these outings and are easily distracted, leading to multiple days where you’ve been forced to rush to make it to work on time.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Bunny, I’m always on time.” You give his chest a gentle shove that makes him laugh before pushing to your feet and holding out your hands to help him up after you. The muscles in your arms strain as you pull the much larger man up and Jake’s hands squeeze yours tightly until you’re face to face. His hands skim up your arms gently, thumbs skimming over your biceps. “Who knew you were so strong, Bunny?” Your eyelids flutter shut at the contrast between the gentle caress and the roughness in his voice.

“I’m really not.” You whisper back, half-lidded eyes meeting his green ones. “But you make me want to be.” It’s true, he makes you want to fight for what you want, for what you deserve.

“What’re you doing tonight?” The words spill past Jake’s lips in a tumble. You shrug, knowing you should lie, and tell him you have plans. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve hung out after work but there was never this electricity that’s coursing between you now as you’re standing so close that you’re almost touching everywhere.

“Nothing really.” He lets out a pleased hum in response.

“How does a movie night sound?” His fingers are still stroking at the bare skin just past the edge of your sleeve.

“That sounds perfect.” You murmur back and he gazes down at you with such a fondness that you feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs. Before either of you can move, however, the shrill sound of your alarm pierces the tense atmosphere, signaling the end of your session and you step out of his grasp to fish out your phone and turn it off. Jake plops into a nearby chair going to put his brace back on. You collect your things as he finishes before turning back to him, twisting your fingers together. “Hey, Jake?” He looks up, a question in his eyes at your nervous tone.

“Yeah, Bunny?”

“Can we swing by my apartment on the way? I’d really like to change first.” His face spreads into a relieved smile.

“Of course we can, and for the record? You never have to ask, you’re driving, remember?” You flush at the reminder.

***

You swallow hard when you pull into the parking garage for your apartment complex. Jake’s never been over to your place before. Usually, you’re content to stay in your scrubs for after-work hangouts but today you need to be as far as you can be from any reminders of your job, your title, and your responsibilities. You want to just be Bugs and Jake tonight. You put the truck in park in your usual spot, before turning to Jake. “You wanna come up?” You shouldn’t be so nervous, it’s just for a few minutes while you get changed. He nods and follows you to the elevator.

When you finally reach your door, you’re nervous again. He’s a millionaire and you’re only half moved into your new place so it’s a wreck. You pause with your key in the lock and turn to Jake. “Look, I’m still in the process of moving in, so it’s kind of a mess, but just make yourself comfortable as best you can, I’ll be quick.” He just chuckles and ruffles your hair, nodding. You try not to look too hard at the living room as you make a beeline for your room, leaving Jake behind.

After a few minutes of rummaging around for the pair of sweats that you’re looking for, you duck back out into the living room to check the half-unpacked box next to the couch. You come face to face with Jake who’s standing by the couch holding a box of dog treats in one hand and some brand new dog toys in the other, more on the table next to him. He’s got a look of soft awe on his face as he looks at you. “You bought all of this?” He asks as you walk over, taking them from his hands and returning them to the table, your cheeks pinkening, not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s nothing really.”

“Nothing? Bunny, it’s EVERYTHING.” You look up at that and then Jake’s lips are colliding with yours. You gasp against his mouth at the sudden kiss before your body betrays every bit of logic in your mind and you’re kissing him back just as hungrily. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close like he’s afraid that you’ll slip between his fingers and disappear. You almost sob at the feeling that you’ve been craving all day. Instead, you whimper into the kiss and Jake’s tongue sweeps gently across your bottom lip, asking for entry that you give wholeheartedly, whining his name into his mouth as his tongue sweeps into yours. Your hands come up to fist into his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer while you backpedal toward your room. He stumbles after you, not breaking the kiss. Your lips feel swollen from his ministrations and your mind is hazy as you shove the bedroom door open dragging him along with you. The backs of your legs hit the bed and Jake’s hands go to the back of your thighs, scooping you up effortlessly, breaking the kiss to toss you onto the center of the bed before he attempts to follow before he pauses, scowling down at the brace on his knee keeping it from bending so he can slot himself over you. You giggle softly in response and crawl towards him pulling him by the collar of his shirt and flipping him gently onto his back before you climb onto his lap. Your giggles are cut short by a moan as you feel the straining bulge in his pants. Jake pulls you close, kissing you again before he moves to place open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and your neck, whispering praises in between. “So fucking perfect, Bunny. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” You moan in response. He chuckles at that, reaching up to brush your hair back from your face, just looking at you and you flush, squirming under the intensity of his gaze. “So beautiful,” he whispers like it’s a prayer and you let your eyes flutter shut as you let yourself believe him. You open your eyes just as his catch on something over your shoulder and you watch his eyes narrow in confusion, the passion in them momentarily quelled as he pushes up onto his elbows to get a better look at whatever’s caught his attention. “Bunny, is that my jersey?” FUCK. Your heart stops and your desire screeches to a halt as Jake sits up, hands coming up idly to hold your waist so you don’t fall as he turns to get a better look at the frame above your headboard. Because yes, that’s his jersey. The stark white number 86 with his name emblazoned above it on the bright green fabric of the Dallas Stars jersey. And there at the bottom is his signature and a personalized note that says KEEP KILLING IT. You’re going to die from mortification as your eyes follow Jake’s past the jersey to the framed pucks, headshots, and various other memorabilia that hang on the wall, your heart dropping with each one that your eyes pass as you feel Jake’s body stiffening beside you. “Bunny,” his voice is low and dangerous and you feel your body shiver involuntarily. “What is all this stuff?” He turns to you then and you see confusion, anger, and most of all betrayal in his eyes as they search yours for an explanation.

“Jake, I can explain, I promise.” Your voice sounds foreign to you. You reach for him but he pulls away, pushing you off his lap and standing as you get up on your knees reaching for him. “Jake, please! Please don’t go.” You’re begging. Begging for him to wait, begging for him to let you explain, begging him to stay, begging him to understand, begging him not to go. He gives you a pained look as he walks out of the room. You’re tripping over your legs, falling off the bed with a thump as you race after him. You grab his hand, doing your best to pull him to a stop but you can’t because he’s wrong, you’re not strong enough. “Jake please, whatever you think it is, it isn’t.” He rounds on you then, pain in his eyes and your heart breaks at the thought that you’re the cause of it.

“Do you know why I left Dallas?” His voice is low, his eyes piercing yours. You look back at him with confusion at the sudden change in topic.

“Because of how your coach handled your injury, right?” You ask, unsure if he’s asking a rhetorical question or not.

He shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours as he chuckles darkly. “I left because after demoting me and saying he didn’t care if I healed properly or not, I found out why he didn’t care. He booked me a gig as an underwear model.” Your stomach lurches as the realization hits you. The pain in Jake’s eyes is palpable. “He didn’t need me to play, he just wanted a pretty little poster boy to ride the bench and bring in the media, get girls in the stands, buying tickets to see his pretty little sideshow.” Fury hurdles down your spine. Jake said it himself, hockey is his first priority and for his coach to try and take that away from him makes your blood boil even as your heart aches in solidarity. All this time you were afraid that Jake would cast you aside if he knew the truth about you, when in reality that couldn’t be farther from the truth. “And now the first girl I’ve been interested in in years has a fucking shrine in her bedroom, so tell me Bunny, how is it not what I think it is?” You feel like he’s slapped you across the face as realization dawns, as you see what he sees.

“Jake, no. NO. I’m not, I’m not some fucking puck bunny.” Your face twists in disgust. “I would never do that to you, that’s disgusting.” He glances down at you warily, the anger in his eyes warring with confusion and you can tell that he wants to believe you. You reach up and grab his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “I would NEVER do that to you, Jake, do you hear me? Yes, I know my room makes it look like the exact opposite but that’s not what you think it is. Am I a fan?” Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at having to admit this to him. “Yeah I am, and I have been for YEARS, but not because of the way you look. I’m a fan because of the way you PLAY. I can’t take my eyes off you on the ice because you’re BRILLIANT, Jake. I’ve watched hockey my whole life and I never understood what it was to truly love it until I watched you play.” Tears blur your vision as you look up at him. “And this?” You stroke your thumb across his cheek tenderly. “I never expected to fall for you, Jake. Truly. And the man I fell for is so much more than the person I’ve watched on the ice over the years.”

You swallow, your body beginning to tremble as you contemplate what you’re about to do, to admit, but you need to come clean, totally, completely clean. “You may think that I don’t understand how it feels to have everything you’ve worked for taken away because of someone else’s greed, but I do.” Your fingers are trembling on his cheeks and he reaches up to take them tentatively in his own as he waits patiently for you to keep going. “All through medical school, I kept my head down and worked hard because I knew I needed to be the best if I wanted to work in the NHL, and I topped all my classes. I gave up having a social life, dating, and everything to make sure I was the very best and it was working. And then,” you take a shuddering breath, and Jake gives your hands an encouraging squeeze. “A-at the fellowship I was at before I came here, there was this doctor. He was older and one day I was getting some stuff from the supply closet to restock one of the exam rooms, and he came into the closet.” You squeeze your eyes shut like you can block out the memory as it plays out in your mind. “He said there was no way a girl like me did as well as I was by myself and that he wanted some of my ‘special treatment.’ I-I tried to tell him that I’d never done anything with anyone to ever earn my grades, that I worked hard and was just good at my job, b-but he wouldn’t listen. He kissed me.” Jake growls in fury and you open your eyes to see the rage in his. “I was trying to fight him off and thankfully someone else showed up before he could try anything else, but then he turned it around and said I had kissed HIM trying to get a letter of recommendation from him.” You laugh hollowly. “And he was my senior, and he was a MAN, so of course everyone believed HIM. I almost lost the fellowship but it was so close to being over that I managed to beg them into letting me stay. Unfortunately though, if you fuck up at one of the best places in the country, they know everyone and you’re basically blacklisted from the entire industry. So there I was, at the top of my class, with the best grades and not a single job offer… until I met Maverick.” Your eyes burn as the tears finally start to escape. “He gave me a chance when no one else would. And then I somehow managed to convince Cyclone to give me the job. Apparently, he has a daughter so he sympathized with me or something, but he made me promise there wouldn’t be any incidents here. That I wouldn’t get involved with any of my coworkers or else he’d fire me.” You give him a rueful look. “And well you know how well that’s gone so far.” Your heart breaks at the fury in Jake’s eyes and the guilt as he gently lets go of you and you keen towards him, missing the feeling.

“Oh Bunny,” his voice is full of pain. “I’m so sorry.” A sob breaks through your lips and you reach for him, desperately and you see him hesitate a moment before he gives in and pulls you to him. You weep into his chest as he holds you close. You feel so light, like you haven’t in the months since the incident, because Jake’s here and he understands and he believes you, and it’s going to be okay as long as you have him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay standing like that until Jake finally pulls away, a deep sadness in his eyes that you don’t understand until he speaks. “I think I’m gonna get an Uber home, Bunny. You can keep the truck until tomorrow.” Your heart shatters. He’s leaving.

“You’re leaving?” You hate how weak your voice sounds and you can see on Jake’s face that he does too.

“I-I just need some space right now, Bunny. I need to think about all of this, about us.” You know he’s right, that you need to do the same but the idea of being alone right now is enough to make you feel lightheaded. You nod anyway.

“No, you’re right, that’s totally fair. I just- Jake I just want you to know, it was always real for me.” You swallow, forcing yourself to meet his eyes so he can see your sincerity. “But whatever you decide, I’m always going to be your physician first and I intend to keep my promise about getting you back on the ice because it would truly be a loss to the hockey world if you never played again.” You reach out to squeeze his hand. “I can drive you home if you want?” He shakes his head gently.

“Not tonight, Bunny. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” You nod your head silently. He steps closer and places a gentle kiss on your forehead before he turns and leaves, the front door clicking behind him and feeling more final than you want it to.

[sir-knighteye]

1. Quit Saying He's Dead

(aka the Canon Divergence AU where everything is all a lie)

This is a snippet from the first chapter of an AU I started a WHILE ago. It eventually got derailed by the Kurogiri reveal (which I'm not complaining about. Transformativity is my specialty.) But then life be life-ing. Anyways pls enjoy :D. Maybe I'll drop the entire outline one day.

Sir Nighteye’s life ends with his body in the present but his vision pushed forward into the future. A trembling hand presses against Mirio’s face. Tears run down his wrist. 

He doesn’t see the heart-broken face in front of him. Instead, he sees Lemillion, fully realized in his signature uniform, with a bright smile on his face as he helps someone in need. He may not have inherited One for All, but he never needed it. He became a fine hero and that is the one part of the future that must not be changed. And Nighteye tells him. 

He tells them all, “Keep Smiling.” 

-------------------------------------------------

Life is short but apparently so is death.

Mirai comes to consciousness slowly. The beeping of the medical equipment softly prods at his ears. He opens his eyes to a dim room. The scene before him is blurry without the aid of his glasses.

He jerks to attention doing a mental check of systems on himself. There’s a weight off his chest. All the life support equipment is gone. Laying a hand on his stomach, the pain isn’t excruciating, but that’s probably because he is on some sort of pain medications. He can move his toes beneath the stiff hospital linens. The rise and fall of his chest aches, but the only breathing support he has is the oxygen tubing placed under his nose and hooked around his ears. 

Eyes roam across the room and the first thing he sees is the Toshinori’s figure slumped in a chair across the hospital room. 

Nearly seven years ago, their roles were reversed. Mirai snorts at the irony. 

Once awake, Yagi Toshinori is a mess. Head bowed as he clutches his right hand repeating over and over again “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

And then Mirai realizes, the feeling in his left arm is a painful echo of what was once there. But that’s not what Toshinori is apologizing for. Not even close. 

The second person to see Mirai is the last person he expects, Watanabe Arisu President of the Hero Public Safety Commission. He still doesn’t have his glasses but he’d know who she was from a mile away. She stands at his bedside poised, hands clasped in front of her. She’s murmuring to the person beside her too low for Mirai to catch. He can’t stay still any longer and shifts in the bed with a groan. She pauses. 

“Ah, you’re awake.”

“I am” he croaks in response. “Where is Toshinori?”

“You weren’t the only casualty in the raid. Besides it's hardly fair to expect that man to spend every waking moment by your side as you recover.”

A familiar feeling washing over Mirai. Of course she would find a reason to chastise him, even while he recovered from grave injuries in a hospital bed. Her voice is clipped and business like usual. 

Watanabe gestures to the person beside her. “This is Dr. Yawata You will be in her exclusive care for an indefinite amount of time.”

“Is this who—” he does his best to turn in the doctor’s direction “Are you the one that healed me?”

“Ah, that was my associate actually” Yawata’s voice is soft in stark contrast to her companion. Or perhaps more cautious. 

“You know Dr. Miyano,” Watanabe comments off hand. She surveys the room and then sits in the visitors chair and crosses her long legs. 

And he did. Dr. Miyano was—is?— All Might’s personal physician for a number of years. The man had a healing quirk that worked on a principle similar to Recovery Girl’s. The difference was that it’s use expended the doctor's energy rather than the person being healed. Toshinori used to refuse his help because it made him feel terribly guilty after being healed. 

“Is he—”

“Oh! Mr. Yagi wanted me to deliver these to you,” Dr. Yawata pipes up. “Your glasses. Here I’ll place them on your face. I know how difficult it can be to do things with your non-dominant hand.”

She gently places the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, the world is back in focus.

“That’s what I am here for” she gestures with her left arm, the sleeve of her jacket pulls up to reveal dull polished metal. 

Watanabe cuts in, “But before we get you back on your feet, there’s something that you need to understand.” 

She stands once more, steps over to his bedside, and leans on the rails. 

“Sasaki Mirai is dead. He died two weeks ago during a raid on a Yakuza hideout. The mission was successful, but unfortunately, there were casualties. Sasaki was buried yesterday at a funeral service attended by pro heroes, close friends, and fans from all over the country. He will be remembered in history for his great service to the people of his country.” 

An ice-cold chill rushes down Mirai’s back.

“I don’t...you...my death was falsified?”

“You misunderstand, Sir. Your death was very very real. I brought you back.”

Mirai tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. Suddenly he feels very nauseous. He’d just been presented an incomplete puzzle but the picture was obvious. His left hand clutches the sheets settled around his lap. 

She continues, “I owe Dr. Miyano a great deal of thanks for his efforts on the matter Since he’s otherwise indisposed for the time being Dr. Yawata will be looking after you.” 

So Miyano is in worse shape than Mirai was to begin with. 

“And who am I exactly?” he asks, shaking. 

“Whoever I need you to be.”

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 36

Eminem x Female Reader Fanfiction

Synopsis : Reader and Em celebrate their first Thanksgiving together and she finally meets Kim.

MARSHALL’S POV 

-FLASHBACK- 

The last thing Marshall expected was to get married again. After his second failed marriage to Kim, he swore he was done with marriage, and that he was done with her. He still loved her very much but he had to admit it eventually : it was never going to work between the two of them. Letting go of her and of their relationship was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do (even getting sober seemed easier than this), but he knew he had to, at least for the sake of his daughters. Every time they got back together after a breakup, the girls got their hopes up and it was heartbreaking. Plus, they were growing up and already smarter than their parents. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize that they were struggling, constantly cheating on each other, abusing substances… They simply couldn’t keep going on like this. When he got out of the courthouse after their second divorce was final, he swore he would never get married ever again, much less get back with her. And yet, more than a decade after, he was standing in a chapel with Kim, a minister and Paul as their witness. It wasn’t your usual wedding. In fact, it could barely qualify as a wedding. There was no service, no white dress, no guests… It was probably the best kept secret in America. Save for Paul and the minister, no one knew they were tying the knot again, not even his daughters. In fact, they were the last people he wanted to find out. They would never understand why their parents were getting married again. The first time, they got married on a whim, right before a tour. Kim had pressured him to propose because she feared he would be unfaithful while on tour (which eventually happened). The second time around, he actually pressured her into accepting when he proposed on the occasion of the fifteenth anniversary of their first date, only to file for divorce after less than ninety days of marriage. This time, though, that had nothing to do with love. He was marrying Kim out of necessity. She had tried to off herself, once again and, this time, she almost succeeded. If paramedics hadn’t been remarkably quick to save her, she would have left four children behind. Marshall was distraught by the thought that his kids could lose their mother. He knew he had to step up and do something. Especially when he was the one to blame in the first place for her substance abuse. 

Kim was a bit hard to convince this time, when he suggested they get married, but she ended up agreeing that it might make sense. If he was her husband, he would be able to make medical decisions and if, God forbid, something had to happen to her, it would be his responsibility to take care of her funeral, estate and her son’s upbringing. Otherwise, it would fall onto his daughters to do it all and care for Parker, but they were far too young for this. Kim didn’t love him anymore but she had always relied on him and his support when it came to her health, so she accepted. None of them were especially happy to tie the knot again but, at least, things would be taken care of. 

They got married in the utmost secrecy, Paul being the only person they knew who was aware of the wedding. Of course, the manager tried to dissuade him from marrying Kim again, but to no avail. The whole thing was expeditive : it took ten minutes, both of them wearing sweat suits and sneakers, no rings, going their separate ways after. Him leaving for a studio session in California, her going back to her rehab center. 

After that, they didn’t see each other for months, though they often spoke on the phone. They didn’t really mention being married again, save for a couple of jokes about how it might actually be their most successful attempt at a marriage. Maybe it was the best kept secret after all : you can be successful in marriage if you don’t love your spouse, don’t live with them and are only in this for practical reasons. They also didn’t really worry about a potential divorce. They had signed a prenup that would make it easy but they highly doubted it would come to that. They were pretty adamant about never getting married ever again (for real this time), to anyone else. They’d been broken up for a while and they didn’t love each other like that anymore, but they were in agreement that it would be unlikely for any of them to fall in love again, with anyone else. She wasn’t in a psychological state to date, and he was unavailable emotionally. As far as he was concerned, music was the only lady he was committed to, and he could make do with one night stands. When your relationships with women have been failures, you start to resign eventually. So he was at peace with his decision. It wasn’t like he wanted to be in a serious relationship with someone ever again anyway. 

-END OF FLASHBACK-

He never really expected to regret marrying Kim for the third time. That was until Y/N walked in his life and things became more than serious between the two of them. At the beginning, even though he was head over heels in love with her, he sort of expected things to blow up between the two of them, so he didn’t bother telling her he was married. And sure enough, that’s what happened : they broke up because they were not in agreement when it came to the future, namely the topics of marriage and kids. He was distraught when she left but he didn’t blame her : she deserved to be happy and to have all her dreams come true. He knew he could not marry her and give her kids anyway. Letting her go was hard, but he loved her enough not to stand in the way of her dreams. But, by some divine miracle, she came back to him and their relationship got serious pretty fast. They even moved in together. He knew he probably should tell her, but he could never find the right time. First, they got back together, then some drama ensued when she learned that his assistant almost blew him a few days earlier, then they went on vacation with his family, then they almost broke up because he was a trauma-ridden asshole… He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to lose her. He could have gotten over his guilt by telling himself that no one else knew anyway, but when she mentioned him not being married to Kim anymore, he could barely ignore it. He knew he would have to tell her eventually, and hoped that she would understand. Because there was no way he could live without her. She was the one he wanted to grow old with. She might very well be the love of his life. So much so that, if he hadn’t been married to Kim, he might have considered proposing. That’s how in love he was. But for now, he could only pray everything would go well for their first holiday together. 

Y/N’s POV 

It was your first Thanksgiving with Marshall and you were happy to spend your first holiday together as a couple, after an eventful week. It was your first time seeing his brother and his family as an official girlfriend and, most of all, you were finally going to meet Kim. You knew you didn’t really have anything to worry about - Marshall had been pretty adamant - but you were starting to feel nervous as she walked through the door and you set your eyes on her for the first time. She was much taller than you, rather charismatic. There was something about the way she carried herself that made her sort of impressive. 

Hi ! You must be Y/N ! I’m Kim. It’s so nice to finally meet you, she said in a friendly tone. 

You too, you said shyly. 

Marshall stroked the back of your hand before greeting her. Their daughters were here, as well as Parker, Kim’s son, which made things less awkward. Nate and his family arrived too and the house was soon filled. It was a laid back atmosphere and Marshall seemed happy to have the people he loved around him. He was joking around with his brother and his nephews, whom he hadn’t seen in a very long time. They also remembered you and seemed happy to see you. 

Uncle Marshall ! Is it true that you have a girlfriend now ? Carter asked. 

It’s true, Marshall beamed. 

Hard to believe, huh ? Nate chimed in. The old man finally found someone to put up with him ! 

Where is she ? His nephew asked in excitement. 

I’m right here, you chuckled. 

Wait… I thought you were Hailie’s age, Liam asked with a hint of confusion in his eyes.

This is going to be fun, Nate said with a huge grin. 

Everyone was staring at the two of you with smirks on their faces. You blushed a little. You absolutely weren’t ashamed of your age difference, but you knew Marshall was a little more prone to this feeling. Also, there was something a bit unsettling about a child confronting you about it. 

Well, uh… I am Hailie’s age, you simply said. But sometimes, grown-ups fall in love with people who are a bit older. Or younger.

Yeah, but Uncle Marshall is like… really old, Carter said. 

Why, thanks, buddy, Marshall replied with a grin. So you expected me to end up alone or…?

No ! I figured you’d make friends at the retirement home, Liam shrugged. 

Everyone burst into a fit of laughter. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and you could resist pecking his cheek. « I’m not that old » he muttered grumpily. Everyone hung out together and, once again, you proved bravery was not your strong suit. You methodically avoided standing anywhere near Kim. She was towering around six feet and you were feeling ridiculously small next to her. And she was definitely impressive, with some sort of mysterious aura. She was nice but, at the same time, keeping to herself and, whenever she spoke, she had some sort of sultry voice. For the first time ever, you felt conscious about your own voice and accent. Up until now, you had managed to stay sane and reasonable but you were starting to wonder what Marshall saw in you. You were not like Kim at all. Were you even his type…? Even Tracy had more in common with her. You, you were younger, nowhere near as charismatic either… To add to your misery, Kim even managed to make Marshall laugh. They obviously had their own inside jokes. Hailie, Alaina and Stevie seemed happy to spend the day with the two of them, though, and that was obviously the most important thing. 

I have a present for you, Stevie told you. Well, you and Dad, actually. 

I didn’t know we were supposed to exchange presents, you said shyly. 

We don’t, she giggled. And it’s nothing fancy ! But I hope you like it ! 

She handed you a small bag and you sat on the couch to open it, Marshall by your side. It was a photo album of gorgeous pictures she had taken with a disposable camera during your family vacations in Europe. There were a lot of candid shots of you and Marshall, that you hadn’t noticed her taking in the moment. One of the pictures was printed out and put in a frame. 

I thought you might want to have at least one picture of the two of you on display in the house, she said. 

You hugged her, almost emotional. It was a really beautiful shot of the two of you in Capri. It was taken from the back and Marshall was holding you and kissing your temple. You had spent a day on the island while you were in Italy and you absolutely loved it. You looked at the pictures in the album, reminiscing of your time in Europe. Some of them were really cute and sweet : Marshall sleeping on your shoulder on the jet, you, Hailie and Alaina drinking mocktails in Italy… Everyone looked at the photo and the girls provided commentary. 

We should really do this again, Alaina said with excitement. Europe was great ! 

It was, Marshall said with a smile. Maybe we could do that again. 

You got this man to travel and actually enjoy it ?! Nate asked you in disbelief. 

And she got him to reduce the amount of security, too, Stevie pointed out. We had a great time in Europe ! 

Who are you and what have you done to my brother-in-law ? Ashley joked. 

Is it Thanksgiving or is it “Let’s make fun of Marshall” day ? Marshall asked with an eye roll. 

Overall, you had a good day with everyone. You got to watch Marshall win his basketball game against Nate and everyone seemed to enjoy your cooking. Kim complimented you on your dish and joked that Marshall would definitely put on a few if you kept on feeding him french food. They joked around a lot and seemed like friends. In a way, they probably were. After all, Marshall had told you they met when he was fifteen and stuck together through thick and thin. After dinner, the whole family lounged in the living room, playing video games, drinking mocktails, talking… You had a great time with Nate, who made a point to call you his “favorite sister-in-law”, loud and clear right in front of Kim, who just rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear a thing. You didn’t really have the details, but you gathered they didn’t exactly get along. At some point, though, you realized that her and Marshall were nowhere to be seen. You did your best to appear unfazed. Once you were done, you stepped outside for some fresh air. You weren’t exactly big on gatherings and could feel a headache was on its way. You spotted Marshall and Kim talking from afar, seemingly having a serious conversation. At first, you didn’t think too much of it but jealousy poked its ugly head out when you saw her giving him a hug. You scoffed and went back inside, not willing to subject yourself to that. Hailie came to see you, making small talk. 

I wonder where Mom and Dad are, she said. Have you seen them ? 

I think they’re outside, talking, you replied with feigned ignorance. Do you want to go and get them ? 

It’s fine, she said. They’ve been out a long time, though. They’re probably talking about Christmas presents or something like that. 

You shrugged and quickly switched to another subject. The two of you went to the kitchen to make some tea and talk about what you could get Marshall for Christmas. She gave you a ton of ideas, which was pretty great. At some point, Kim and Marshall walked in and he chastised you for clearing the table and doing the dishes without him. 

You could have let me do it, he groaned. 

There it goes, Kim said playfully. Not a holiday unless Marshall gets grumpy. 

Not an actual day if he doesn’t get grumpy, you said with a smirk. 

Seems like you know him pretty well, she grinned. 

I don’t like this, Marshall sighed before pulling you to him and kissing your temple. 

They’re ganging up on you, Dad, Hailie warned. 

At least my children are nice to me, he said. 

Only because I need a favor, she said with a small smile. 

I knew it, he said with faux exasperation. What do you want ? Or should I ask how much this is going to cost ? 

Do you remember that one jacket that you had in one of your music videos ? I’d like to borrow it. We’re recording a new podcast episode soon and I have an outfit idea in mind, she said. 

Don’t you have your own clothes, though ? He asked with a smile. 

My followers love it when I pay tribute to you, she said. I’m merely indulging them. Please ? It’s Thanksgiving. 

Fine, he shrugged. But I’m going to need more details because “that one jacket from that one video” is a bit vague, Hay. 

Let’s just go look ! 

They went upstairs, leaving you alone with Kim. You were tempted to run away from the kitchen but it was impossible for you to do so without being painfully obvious. You were uneasy but she, on the other hand, seemed pretty comfortable. Why wouldn’t she, though ? She’d lived in that house for a while and she wasn’t new to the family either. She wasn’t the one out of place, here. You were. 

It’s, uh… It’s cute that she’s paying tribute to him in the podcast, you commented in an attempt to make small talk. 

It is, she replied with a smile. They have such a great relationship. He’s a great Dad. 

Yeah, he’s a great person, you said honestly. The best.

You’re all gushing, she teased. 

Sorry, you said awkwardly.

No, it’s sweet, she said. He’s really amazing so I’m happy he is with someone who sees it. 

I mean, he’s always been incredible to me, since we met, you confessed. 

About two years ago, right ? She asked with genuine interest. 

That’s right, you said. Our relationship is more recent, though. 

This, he told me, she chuckled. I probably shouldn’t tell you but he won’t shut up about you. 

Really ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Oh, absolutely, she said. I think he even told me about you before you started dating. But that stays between us. 

Only if you told me what he said, you replied with a smile. 

The first time he ever mentioned you was when you had that incident at the bar, she said. He was pissed and worried. I could tell you meant a lot to him, by the way he talked about you. 

Oh wow, you said. I wasn’t expecting him to tell you about this. 

He doesn’t tell me everything, don’t worry, she chuckled. I happened to catch him on a day when he was pissed about it and he ended up telling me. But I could see he liked you. You know, it’s not often that he falls so hard for someone. 

I guess I’m pretty lucky, you said. 

I’d say he’s the lucky one, she pointed out. Seems like you gave up a lot to be with him. I mean, you moved to another country.

Yeah, well… He’s worth it, you said. I tried being without him and I didn’t like that. 

I saw him when you were broken up and he didn’t like it too much either, she said. You’re good for him. 

You think ? You asked with genuine curiosity. 

Well, you’re the only woman who got him to do therapy, she pointed out. Tried for years and he never agreed to it. 

You were surprised he told her about that, too. It was definitely weird, discussing your relationship with his ex wife, but her attitude put you at ease. It seemed like she genuinely wanted him to be happy. 

I’m really happy for you guys, she continued. I also wanted to thank you for having me today. I mean, you could have refused to meet me or have me in the house at all, a lot of people would have, but you didn’t. 

You debated telling her you couldn’t have put up much of a fight even if you had wanted to, since Marshall didn’t really give you a say in the matter. 

You’re welcome, you said. It’s a family holiday, both of you should be able to enjoy it with your kids. 

I’m really glad you see it this way, she said. It looks like we’ll be seeing each other a couple of times a year for a long time, so I’m really glad we get along. 

You’re not at all like I imagined, you couldn’t help but say. 

Meaning ? She asked with a grin. 

I mean… You know. You’re nice. 

She let out a hearty laugh and placed a friendly hand on your shoulder. 

Did you expect me to be the mean ex-wife full of spite ? She asked with a smirk. 

No… I mean… Kind of ? You explained sheepishly. For the record, no one spoke ill of you. But I figured… You know, there’s history. And usually, ex-wives and new girlfriends don’t get along. 

Well, there comes a point in life where you just have to accept that things don’t work out, she said. I’ll be honest : I will always love Marshall. He has saved me in more ways than one. But I’m just not in love with him anymore, you know ? Now, we’re just rooting for each other to be happy. And if that’s any comfort, I was a bit anxious to meet you, too. 

Were you ? You asked in surprise. 

Of course ! He told me you were amazing, and I know the girls like you, but… you know. You’re still the first person he fell in love with after me. It’s the end of an era. I’m not proud of it, but I guess I sort of liked having this bond with him, she explained. But hey, I’m happy for you guys. I really am. I mean, you’re so much nicer than the last one I met anyway… 

Who was it ? You asked with curiosity. 

Tracy, she said as she rolled her eyes. I hate that woman. 

Just like that, the two of you were like old friends. Proof that no one gets people closer than hating on the same person if there was ever a need for one. There was no real depth to it, just Kim feeding you old gossip and hating on Tracy. You were giggling like schoolgirls when Marshall walked back in the kitchen. 

Everything alright ? Marshall asked with his eyebrows furrowed. 

Yes, you said with a genuine smile. 

I’m telling your lovely girlfriend what a terrible man you are. Just so that she knows what to expect, Kim said jokingly. 

Marshall glared at her, obviously not amused by the joke and she simply shook her head before going back to the living room, leaving the two of you alone. 

She didn’t say anything, you reassured him. 

What’s with all the giggling then ? 

Secrets, you chuckled. You’re right, she is pretty cool. 

Mmmh, he said with a small frown. 

He seemed pretty preoccupied, as if he were actually worried that Kim might let something slip. However, you didn’t pay it too much attention. You’d had a few talks about how abusive he’d been in the past, and you figured he just didn’t want you to be reminded of that, especially when you’d gone through a rough patch. You took advantage of no one being in the room to pull him in for a deep kiss. 

I’m so in love with you, he said. 

I love you too, you said. I’m so glad we’re celebrating our first Thanksgiving together. 

Me too, he replied. I can’t even tell you how happy I am that you get along with my family. Nate told me earlier how great he thinks you are. You’re so perfect. I’m so blessed to be with you. 

So… Am I on the list of what you’re thankful for ? You mused. 

You are the list, he said before kissing your forehead. 

The two of you went back to hang out with the others. Everyone was sitting on the couch while Stevie was showing them something on her iPad. 

You guys are just in time for my yearly presentation, she said with a smile. 

Shit, I thought I managed to miss it, Marshall chortled. 

What presentation ? You asked. 

Every year on Thanksgiving, Stevie tried to guilt trip us into adopting pets from the shelter she volunteers at, Nate explaied. 

They need a home, she pointed out. 

As long as it’s not my house, Marshall said with a grin. 

We usually get out of it by donating a bunch of money, Alaina said. 

You sat on the couch, curling on Marshall’s side as Stevie did her presentation, starting with dogs. Then, she got to cats and, as soon as you saw the first one, you fell in love. It wasn’t a cute kitten you would have expected to swoon over. It was a thirteen year-old cat with feline dwarfism that gave him a grumpy look. He had a few patches of missing hair and wouldn’t qualify as a beautiful cat but there was something about him that drew you in. 

Oh my God, he is adorable, you said. 

Adorable ? That… thing ? Marshall asked with a grimace. 

Have you seen him ? You asked him with love in your eyes. 

Have you ?! 

He’s old, and he’s grumpy, and I love him already, you said. 

Old and grumpy… I think that woman has a type, Kim said, causing everyone to laugh. 

Marshall looked at you while you made eyes at him while whispering “please, please, please”. After a few seconds he sighed and agreed. 

Alright, he sighed. I guess we’re getting a cat. But please give him a cool name. I can’t have a cat with a stupid name like “Fluffy”. 

It should be rap-related, Alaina suggested. 

I like that, Marshall said. 

How about Mew Tang Clan ? You asked. Or Wiz Catlifa ? He looks like a Wiz ! 

Ok, Marshall chuckled. Anything you want. Let’s go for Wiz Catlifa. 

You jumped at his neck and kissed his cheek, feeling like a kid on Christmas Day. He wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your temple. You’d had a shitty week but you were incredibly happy, with the man you loved by your side, who agreed to go to the shelter with you the following week. 

Eventually, after a while, everyone left. Kim was the last one to say her goodbyes. As she went through the door, she turned to Marshall and looked at him with a smile. 

Oh, and, Marsh ? You’re off the hook. Happy Thanksgiving. 

You had no idea what that meant, and you figured out it was one of their inside jokes or something like this. You were just happy that everything had gone smoothly. Plus, you actually like Kim and were happy to get along with her. Marshall, however, seemed a little puzzled. He nodded silently. 

You were all relaxed as you went to bed. The nerves had drained you out from your energy.

Are you alright, babe ? Marshall asked as you rested your head on your pillow. 

Tired, but I had a good time. I can’t believe we’re getting a cat ! You said giddily. 

Only you could make me agree, he chuckled. When our last cat died, I swore we wouldn’t get another one. But if it makes you happy… 

It does, you said with a smile. I love him already. Have you seen him ? 

I have. You picked me so I knew you had bad taste but this… This is ultimate proof, babygirl, he chuckled. 

Shut up, you said with a pout. I won’t have you speak ill of our cat. 

“Our cat”, he said pensively. I like the sound of that. It’s like starting a little family with you. 

You giggled and nuzzled his neck, placing a small kiss there and prompting him to pull you closer to him. 

You’re all romantic, you said. 

You’re worth it, he said. I love you.  And the whole family fell in love with you, it seems. 

Did they ? 

They did, he nodded. Even Kim. I don’t know how you did that, honestly. 

Maybe she’s just pretending, you said. 

I don’t think she is, he said intently. Whatever. I’m just happy they like you. 

You nodded and nuzzled his neck. 

Happy Thanksgiving, my love.