#THIS SEASON IS GOING TO BLOW OUR FACES OFF

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 (𝐹. 𝑇𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑎𝑟)

Unfortunately this is my life right now. I needed my family gone YESTERDAY.

Contains: stressed, stress, stressing, tangible irritation, dysfunctional oblivious family, kissing, hiding, cameo appearance based on my older sister

There wasn’t a breath deep enough you could take to calm yourself down.

Fiyero seemed to be acutely aware of this so he stayed silent as his chest was pressed to yours where you both were glued together, currently hiding from the everlasting season of irritation that was your family and the holidays. There honestly weren’t any words.

The lack of space, the way they stayed glued to your side during most of their stay, the snoring, endless noise, whining, complaining, the way all your brothers seemed to speak in surround sound, all the mess, how nothing was ever good enough for your mother, toppled over with all your unfairly assigned “sister responsibilities”.…you exhale heavily through your mouth as you run your hands down your face. If all the general inconvenience wasn’t enough, you barely got to spend any alone time with the one person who didn’t constantly stress or annoy you. The most you got to do was a peck- maybe kiss- and you had to sneak to do that because if they knew you had a boyfriend after being socially averse your whole life, you know how badly they’d blow it out of proportion- before one of your family members was off wanting to do something or another. Another heavy sigh and with this one, you’re fighting tears. You just want your apartment back, no mess and no noise with no loud family that wears out every welcome you’ve ever given. Peace and quiet. That’s all you wanted.

So, here you were; hiding with your secret boyfriend in the bathroom with the lights off to escape the noise and be alone with the solace you give each other for just a few minutes. You’ve had a headache for days and Fiyero’s been going with everything assumingely unbothered but you know better. He likes the space you two have. He also knows that you truly didn’t want to do anything this year so the look on your face when all your close relatives and siblings literally appeared at your place on Friday for a surprise stay at your place for Christmas week gave him a hint on why you wanted to stay out of the drama for this year. Plus…Fiyero misses you. Yeah, you were there but you weren’t happy. He misses you happy and the flow you both had before it got disrupted. Your folks were nice enough but he couldn’t overlook how…inconsiderate…they also were. Just dropping in without checking in on how you felt about it or if you had any prior plans and then expecting you to accommodate them, didn’t feel right. He can only imagine how over it you really are so that’s why if in this moment all he can give you is silence, he will. Smoothing a hand down your hair, he resigns himself to wait in the darkness along with you until you’re ready but you speak first.

“I want our apartment back.”

“I know. Me too, miss having you all to myself.”

You smile a little at that because it really was lovely with just the two of you. Quiet, calm, and a sweet atmosphere that came with coexisting with the love of your life.

“Don’t get me wrong- i did miss them just-”,

“Not all at once for an impromptu 7 day stay?” You pinch your lips in as a frown overtakes your features, the picture of unhappiness and Fiyero pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and rests his chin on top of your head while you pout.

“Exactly.”

You both sigh in tandem, soaking in the one break you’ve had in 5 whole days.

“What else is it? You’ve been more…” Fiyero trails off as he cups your face, peering down into yours. He doesn’t really have to elaborate because you know what he means and you know he won’t judge your answer.

“…they’re just so…needy. They want everything. You should’ve seen the episode yesterday in the shopping center.” You groan remembering how much a season you didn’t plan on participating in has cost you. You didn’t even want to celebrate in the first place. You just wanted to relax, have sex with your boyfriend, and enjoy holiday themed stuff and occasional outings with your friends but nooo you couldn’t even do that.

Sensing your rapidly overwhelming frustration, Fiyero presses a slow, firm, kiss on your lips. Humming when you kiss him back before pulling away.

“Just 2 more days”, he says, squishing your cheeks so your mouth opens then leaning back down to kiss you again but deeper. He swallows your moans as you drag your hand up his back, feeling the muscles there as he takes your breath away. You feel his tongue lave hotly across the inside of your cheek and you almost lose your balance from the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you, other hand gripping his forearm. However, Fiyero pulls away before you can make a scene, resting his forehead against yours as you gasp against his mouth, trying to catch your breath. You barely hear him when he talks through the blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

“Two more days. Okay?”

The rasp in his voice hypnotizes you and you nod belatedly, movements slow and jerky as you repeat dumbly after him.

Mmhm, yeah, two more days.”

Fiyero smiles at how eager you are to forget the past 5 days of disaster through his touch but it’s only 4:11 pm and you have company waiting. You slip your hands underneath his ugly Christmas sweater, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles, tilting your head up with a pleased hum when he meets your lips again within seconds. It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in days, held and being kissed breathless. The only noise being your panting and Fiyero’s low groans. You drag your fingertips down his happy trail- not to start anything, of course but just because his skin is nice- feeling giddy at the way his hands hold you tighter.

“Honey! Are you almost done? We have awkward posed pictures to take!” Rapid knocks accompanied by your older sisters voice make you two spring apart and you fight not to scream in frustration.

“Yeah I’ll be out in a few minutes!” You yell back, craving an empty space more than ever. Huffing one more time, you feel Fiyero nose along your temple before whispering in your ear.

“Two more days?”

“Two more days and not a hour longer.” You hear the footsteps walk away from the door but of course it’s not the end the end of it.

“You should invite your friend! The one that’s been hanging around the last couple of days! He’s ridiculously hot and he’s got an ass that could cause traffic!!” She yells across the distance she walks from the door and your mouth drops in sheer mortification, face hot while you pointedly ignore the shake of Fiyero’s chest as he laughs; clearly very much enjoying your sisters praise.

“I really am all that, huh?

This won’t be the longest two days of your life at all..

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine - Chapter sixteen: "What do you mean Wheels up?"

Summary: Stephen's death and Emily's kidnapping are a hard blow to the team. Spencer and his wife haven't slept in over 48 hours and fighting is the only way to go, apparently.  Word count: 6.074 Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of Criminal Mind Ep S13 01, angst A/N: The Reids need a break from everything. And no matter wht you say, the "wheels up" scene is the cringiest moment in the entire show. Try to prove me wrong. 

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(Y/N)’s point of view

We waited for a few minutes in the hospital hall until our friends got there. We had called their family and let them know what was going on. Spencer seemed to be in severe pain, and there were too many reasons: lack of sleep, stress, hospital lighting… the fear our friend had been hurt, Emily was missing and Stephen was dead. My husband was clearly having post-traumatic stress syndrome, with no time to deal with any emotion he might have to face.

It got worse after talking to Rossi. He was refusing treatment until he spoke to Luke, Spencer, and me.

- “First, you, go through my pants pockets and find my keys. There's a little one there in a file cabinet in my office. You following me?”

The man had hit his head, was still bleeding, and looked at us like he was about to give us the secret location of the holy grail.

- “Yes, I’m following.”- Luke said, holding the keys.

- “Inside, there's Chicago Bears season tickets. When you get them, you call Matt Simmons. I promised him those tickets.”

So Rossi hit his head harder than we had anticipated. We tried to convince him he was under any drug effect, but he got so mad he called us “assclowns” and forced us to go to the BAU and do as he asked us. It was the only way he would accept treatment.

- “I can’t arrest him.”- Spencer said as we reached the bullpen. Luke and I turned to him as he covered his eyes with one hand for the hundredth time in the last half hour.

- “What are you talking about?”- Alvez asked him.

- “Scratch.”- my husband explained and made an effort to look at us- “The second I see his face, I am going to kill him.”

- “Reid, come on! No one could blame you, we all wanna end that bastard.”- Luke tried to ease the mood, but I knew Spencer meant it. He wanted to add something, but he covered his eye with one hand with a painful expression. I wanted to hold him and take him away from all that pain, but we needed to help our friends.

- “What's wrong with me?”- Spencer whispered as I kissed his hand. Neither of us had rested a lot, and his crazy hair showed how little time he had had to take care of himself in the last 48 hours.

- “I’m pretty sure it’s PTSS. You’ve been in hyper-vigilant mode for the last 48 hours, we haven’t slept, eaten or rested, and shit keeps going south.”- I replied and rubbed his arms. - “I would suggest you take some time off to deal with this, but we both know…”

- “I don't have time to process my emotional state.”- Spencer added and I just nodded.

- “That's exactly when you make time, right? You ask for help. There's no shame in that.”- Luke tried to help, but Spencer’s attention was lost.

- “Rossi's office.”

- “Yeah. I'll handle that.”- Alvez tried to continue talking, but Spencer stopped him as he started walking away.

- “No. There's someone in Rossi's office.”

My husband was right, Penelope and Agent Simmons were in the room when we walked in, and they immediately gesticulated us not to make a sound and to give them our phones. Once they put them in a little wooden box filled with Cuban cigars Rossi had on his desk, Pen finally explained:

- “Ok. Now that we are secure, I got that for Rossi last year. Not only is it a cigar case, but it's also a Faraday case. It blocks all radio and cell signals. I think Scratch might be listening to us with our cell phones, even when they're off.”

I felt naked as soon as I heard that. What had Scratch heard…

- “That explains why Rossi was so cagey in the hospital.”- Luke added- “All right. Let's find these tickets.”

But as soon as he opened the drawer, all we could see were files about Scratch.

- “What is this?”- I asked as I grabbed one and went through the pages.

- “Stephen was brought on board for one reason. That was to catch Scratch.”- Simmons explained- “That is his entire investigation into him. He kept all his records off-site, updating Prentiss and Rossi through hard copies.”

- “If it's off the cloud, Scratch can't hack it.”- Spencer added, making it sound so obvious it hurt I didn’t realize it sooner.

- “Have you guys read it?”- I asked immediately.

- “No. Prentiss ordered it compartmentalized, eyes-only clearance, but she also felt there should be at least one failsafe who wasn't part of the BAU who knew about it just in case of emergency. That's why Garcia called me.”

Emily fucking Prentiss was the best, no questions asked.

- “All right. Let's dig in. I mean, this may be our only chance at stopping this bastard.”- Luke grabbed a few files and started passing them around. I followed him and got ready to read and find my best friend. We had to bring her back and make Scratch pay for what he had done.

Spencer’s point of view

It wasn’t a good day, let's put it that way. The fact Stephen was dead and that it could have been anyone on the team was too painful to start analyzing. It got real. I had always been, but it reminded us we could go through the same any day on the field.

Monica, Stephen’s wife, called Luke and asked him to go with her to the hospital to see her husband for the last time. It broke my heart to even think that that could be my wife, visiting my corpse.

But I didn’t have time to think about it. We had to find Prentiss.

I knew my wife was trying to focus as well, but tears kept falling down her cheeks as she read the files from Stephen’s investigation. I wanted to comfort her, but again, we had no time to process, to feel sorry, to feel at all. We were against the clock, and every minute Prentiss was away was a minute I knew she was being tortured.

All I could do was read file after file and make a major effort to find a lead.

Until I did.

- “What? Prentiss texted Hotch?”- (Y/N) asked as she read the print I had found. Garcia stood by her side in the conference room and read the paper over and over again, still not believing what I had found.

- “According to Stephen's documentation, yes.”- I replied.

- “It must have been a coordinated attempt to share intel. Would Hotch have exposed himself like this?”- Simmons asked, looking confused.

- “No!”- me and my wife yell at the same time.

- “And neither would she!”- I added and continued talking as I wrote the last message on the board. - “I mean, she wouldn't rely on a hackable app, and she sure as hell wouldn't write, “A.H.,” in a text. That defeats the purpose of compartmentalizing the investigation.”- I rambled, starting to feel very irritated by the slow pace we had figuring out where Prentiss was.

- “It was a smoke screen.”- Garcia whispered, shocked.

- “Prentiss knew they had to triple watch their backs because Scratch has always had eyes and ears everywhere.”- (Y/N) added and crossed her arms on her chest, looking upset and tired as well.

- “Stephen had a background in counterintelligence. He must have designed this. He faked the Hotch side of the conversation to entice Scratch to make a move.”- I nodded at Simmon’s words as I turned and looked at my team.

- “The size and scale of which indicate desperation, a desperation he hasn't shown after a year of hiding, so why now?”

My question hung in the air for a few seconds, until (Y/N) said.

- “It’s clear that the last text hit a note on him. We know Scratch has been obsessed with Hotch ever since the very beginning. He has to be trying to get his location from Em.”- that didn’t help keep me calm at all, but I knew she was right.

- “(Y/N) is right, A.H. is a pretty big red flag. Maybe that's what brought him out.”- Simmons added.

- “Well, they used Hotch's initials in other texts before.”- Garcia suggested- “Maybe that’s not it…”

- “Then they found something else, something they knew would rattle him.”- I turned to read the message again when my wife asked.

- “What’s B-cap?

- “Geography maybe. I mean, it's mentioned in relevance to DC.”- I heard Simmom’s theory, but it didn’t feel right. To make it worse, my eye was still bothering me, I was feeling anxious and I couldn’t focus.

- “Maybe it’s a code name for a partner.”- (Y/N) suggested.

- “I can't see it.”- I whispered, annoyed. That shouldn’t be that hard. There had to be something there to help me decode those letters, and I couldn’t see it. It was so frustrating and irritating I had to deal with it alone before I snapped in front of my team. And my wife.

- “Hey, no. Why don't we kick it over to the team? Maybe they can suss out…”- Penelope was still talking when I started pushing her and Simmons out of the room.

- “No. No time. Get out!”

- “What?”- Garcia looked at me like I had just asked the most random thing on earth, but I kept gently pushing her and Simmons out.

- “Get out. Sorry. You too, chipmunk, please.”

- “What? Why me?”- the way (Y/N) stared at me was both hurt and confused.

- “I'm sorry, but get out.”- I kissed (Y/N)’s forehead as Garcia grabbed her computer, Matt took the folders and I closed the door behind them.

I needed to be alone and focused. I was exhausted, but there was no time to rest. Prentiss was in danger and I had to make an effort and figure out that message as fast as possible.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I stared at Spencer pacing in the conference room for almost an hour. It was killing me because I knew how much he was pushing himself to get the right answer. He felt responsible, he was taking the burden all alone, and it was painful to know he wouldn’t even let us help.

- “Did he even sleep?”- Garcia asked and held my hand, trying to comfort me.

- “No more than an hour. Morgan stopped by with donuts.”

- “Yeah, he told me he wanted to catch up with him.”

- “I didn’t get time to hug him. I really need a hug from Morgan right now.”- I whispered and Pen held my hand tighter.

- “This I might be able to help with.”- Matt Simmons said and pointed at the text on the screen- “Prentiss’ last text had to do with Honduras. Scratch's last known sighting before tonight was Honduras.”

- “Right, and we thought Scratch fled there.”

- “Right. Prentiss asked the IRT to contact our Central American sources just to see if we could find anything. Now, we never did. We also never stopped to ask why Scratch was in Honduras in the first place.”

- “Clearly, not for the baleadas.”- I whispered and stood up. I needed to move to keep my head focused because I was both falling asleep and losing my mind sitting there.

- “Reid will figure this out.”- Garcia said with such conviction I felt hopeful for a second.- “He's really amazing at this kind of thing.”

That was the moment my husband picked to toss a book against the window, shocking us all. He was like a madman inside that room, with crazy hair and crazy weary eyes. I ran over and stormed into the conference room with Matt and Garcia. But before I could ask Spencer what the hell had happened, he started talking:

- “B-cap is short for Banisteriopsis caapi.”

- “What the hell just happened?”- I asked, but he ignored me and continued explaining.

- “It's a plant, specifically a hallucinogen that's found in a tea called ayahuasca.”

- “We worked on a couple of those cases, I think. If I remember, it's like peyote.”- Simmons added and my husband nodded and continued talking.

- “Yeah, in multiple ways. They're similar legally in that taking them is considered a religious practice, and pharmacologically, they're similar in that both drսg cause you to hallucinate intense, geometric patterns and vomit a lot.”

- “Ok. What does this have to do with Scratch?”- Garcia questioned, still looking shaky after the book-throwing scene.

- “Well, Scratch has a cocktail of disassociative drugs to induce delusions, but a mathematical mind like his would always be looking for ways to tweak and improve the formula.”- my husband explained.

- “Ok, so he wanted to get this B- cap and use it against his victims?”- I asked him and he nodded.

- “Exactly.”

- “So he went to Honduras to look for it. He then brought it back to DC to experiment with it. Stephen and Emily came to the same conclusion and tried to pretend like they were hot on his trail.”- Simmons summarized Spencer’s idea as my husband came up with a plan:

- “We need to track down all practitioners of the ceremony in the district... Shamans, gurus, overnight religions that just hung their first shingle. He could be using one of their volunteers as a partner, either witting or unwitting.”

Penelope, Matt, and I nodded, but none of us moved. Spencer frowned and stared at us confused.

- “What?”- he asked us.

- “You threw a book at a window. It was jarring.”- Garcia whispered, still shocked.

- “It took me sixty minutes to deduce what should have taken me sixty seconds, and if Emily dies because I was too slow, I'll be throwing a lot more than books.”

And just like that, my husband stormed out of the conference room. But I wasn’t gonna let him throw a tantrum and make me feel bad about it. So I followed him.

- “Stop it!”- I whispered/yelled and grabbed his hands to force him to turn and look at me, as he reached his desk in the bullpen.

- “What? Working? I don't think it’s a good idea, all things considered.”- Spencer hadn’t snapped at me at work in a very long while, though it didn’t surprise me. He was exhausted, but so was I, and I wasn’t throwing things around.

- “Stop trying to do this on your own, Spencer! We are a fucking team!”- I raised my voice ‘cos I didn’t have any more patience to deal with him.

- “I know we are, but I need to focus! This is the kind of thing I am good at, and I am failing!”- Spencer’s voice was hard, he was almost yelling and I was glad the bullpen was mostly empty.

- “You are failing at being a team member! We are all worried sick about Em, not just you!”

- “Don’t you think I know that?! I am worried about JJ, Rossi, and Tara too! And they are not here to help us solve this case, so it’s just us two, who have barely slept or eaten, plus Garcia and Simmons!”

- “Exactly! Not just you! So fucking let us help!!”

- “I need to do this!”- Spencer argued and I nearly lost it.

- “Why don’t you take a trip to Mexico behind my back again then, maybe that would help!”

- “Oh! you were waiting for a chance to throw that to my face!!”

- “Stop it!”- Penelope grabbed our hands and forced us to stop yelling at each other.- “I love you both, and I know you are not at your best, so please, for your family’s sake, stop arguing right now!”.

- “Can you tell him he is being a jerk?”- I replied and Penelope nearly gasped. - “He is! You know he is!”

- “So are you!”- my husband argued and Garcia was now officially shocked.

- “You are making me act like a jerk!”

- “Time out! Both of you!”- Garcia raised her voice- “You are going to sit in the conference room and fix your problems while me and Simmons are going to find the ayahuasca dealer who is covering Scratch, and we won’t talk to you until you have talked like adults and not the annoying brats you are being!”

- “We don’t have time for this!”- Spencer argued as Garcia started pushing us to the conference room.

- “Then make time for this!”- she said and slammed the door behind us. She locked us there, forgetting (or overlooking) the other door in the room, wide open.

- “This is crazy, we should be after Scratch!”- Spencer complained as I sat at the conference table and stared at him, pacing back and forth the room.

- “We? Don’t you mean you, Spencer?”- I crossed my arms on my chest and stared at him as his face changed.

- “Why are you making such a big deal about it? I am good at figuring things out! Period!”- my husband stared at me, crazy hair, weary eyes, exhausted, and angry. I was sorry I was being mean, but I couldn’t hold it. He was in so much pain he kept covering his right eye with one hand, still struggling with his vision. And yet, he refused to stop and ask for help.

- “I know you are good at it! You are good at fucking everything, Spencer! But that doesn’t mean you have to figure it out all alone! You can’t just throw us out of a room ‘cos you need to think, and you can’t fucking slam books at a window and not expect us to be worried!! What the hell were you thinking?!”

I stood up and waited for his answer. He looked at me and simply raised his arms, like asking me a question.

- “You know this is not our regular case! This is not a normal situation! We are worried, frustrated, and exhausted!”

- “Spencer! I know that!”

- “Then why are you nagging me?”

- “Because I am tired of feeling you keep pushing me away when things get hard like I can’t handle shit!”- I yell and finally take the anger off my chest- “You don’t ask for my help! You wanna solve everything on your own! I know you wanna keep me safe, but it’s so frustrating ‘cos I know I can help you and you don’t fucking let me! Ever!”

- “You know I trust you! You are an amazing SSA!”- Spencer tries to explain, but I don’t let him go on. I groan in frustration and shake my head.

- “Not here! At home! You are your own island! I know things haven’t been at their best lately! I know having your mom has been challenging and I feel incredibly guilty because I told you it was ok to bring her home with us! But I just want to help! And you never let me in!”

- “(Y/N), I’ve had to deal with my mother alone my entire life!”- Spencer yelled like it was groundbreaking news.

- “Not for the last ten years or more, Spencer!”- I replied and felt almost insulted.- “I’ve supported you, loved you, and helped you with Diana since we were friends! I’ve loved her since we met!”

- “But she is not your mom! She is my problem! My burden!”- Spencer’s voice shook as he finished that sentence, and covered his eyes one more time.

- “We are not married just to fuck and raise our kids! We are married to share the good and bad things! I’ve told you a million times, that we are in this together! Whatever “This” is! Stop pushing me away or I’m actually gonna go away! Is that what you want?”

Spencer stared at me after I finished shouting. He seemed hurt, not angry, not upset, he looked at me as if I had just shot him, and he had never seen it coming.

- “I love you with my life, but we can’t go on like this.”- I whispered and took a few steps closer to him. Enough yelling, we really had to start moving in that conversation and fix things- “This whole situation showed us how much work we still need.”

- “(Y/N), all I’ve ever wanted to do was to protect you.”- my husband sounded so wounded as he said those words, and I felt guilty for having that conversation, though I knew we needed it.

- “I know, but ironically, you keep hurting me in the process.”- I replied and took another few steps closer to him. He held my hands and rested them against his face, cradling his cheeks.

- “I know I’m stupid when it comes to feelings… I’m sorry.”

- “Were you planning to tell me about Mexico or did you actually think you could keep it from me forever?”- I asked him and he took a deep breath before replying.

- “I really wanted to tell you. I've felt like shit since it happened.”

- “Did it just happen once?”

- “Yes. I planned a second trip but never made it.”

- “Why didn’t you? You felt guilty?”

- “That, and the kids got sick that weekend. I could never leave you alone with them.”- Spencer confessed and he closed his eyes as if the thought brought him pain. He looked ashamed. - “I’m so sorry.”

I wrapped my arms around Spencer and he held me so tight against his body, I had trouble breathing for a second.

- “I hate when Cat Adams gets into my head.”- I whispered against his chest and my husband kissed the top of my head.

- “It was my fault, I let her get too close this time.”

- “Fuck yeah you did, she even sat on your lap.”- I looked at him and he caressed my cheeks carefully and slowly as he stared into my eyes.

- “I did what I could to get my mother home safe.” - Spencer’s voice was so apologetic my chest tightened as I heard him.

- “I know… but it doesn’t mean it was nice to hear, or watch.”

- “You know you are the only woman on earth for me.”- he added quickly as he raised my chin with his index finger, forcing me to lock eyes with him.

- “Derek might add other planets to that list as well, Space Boy.”- I teased and Spencer sighed, nodding.

- “True.”- he held me a few more minutes, letting the whole argument sink in.- “I don’t want to push you away.”

- “I know… it comes naturally when you are under pressure. You shut everybody out.”

He didn’t say anything else, I knew what he was thinking. A part of him wanted to apologize, the rest of his brain kept thinking about Emily. I sighed and looked at him, as my hands tried to fix his messy and crazy hair a little.

- “We’ll figure it out. Now let’s bring Em back.”

Spencer’s point of view

(Y/N) and I were still reading some of the files with Scratch’s intel Stephen had collected over the recent months when our cell phone rang. We both read the text, it was an address. Matt and Penelope had a location. They were on their way.

- “We are ten minutes closer.”- I whispered and my wife dropped the file on the table.

- “Hurry!”

We both knew we shouldn’t be doing that, neither of us had slept, I could barely see with one eye and my mental health was… unhealthy, to call it somehow decent. I was ignoring all the signs of burnout, anxiety, and panic attacks because I didn’t have time to deal with it. And my poor wife was unquestionably exhausted.

I kept the AC ice cold, trying to keep (Y/N) awake as she drove. The cold could help her stay focused, because it has a stimulating effect on your body, helping to counteract drowsiness, as well as improve mental clarity and alertness.

- “I’m fucking freezing.”- she whispered.

- “I’m trying to keep you awake, chipmunk.”- I replied and rubbed her leg.

- “I’m about to start singing all the Frozen songs.”- I chuckled remembering Raven would force us to watch that movie at least once a week back then. Even my mother knew some of the songs.

- “Did you double-check your bulletproof vest?”- I knew I had checked it myself, but I had to ask again.

- “Yes, you?”

- “Yes.”- she parked and we basically jumped out of the SUV.

- “You take right, I take left.”- I suggested but my wife shook her head even before I was done talking.

- “We are not splitting. We walk in together and walk out together. Is it clear?”

- “Yes ma'am.”

We rushed inside and less than a minute later, we heard the first gunshot. The place was a three-floor warehouse. We ran toward the sound, in hopes of finding Emily. My wife was right behind me, both our guns pointing around us the entire time.

And then, I saw her, Em, running up the stairs as Scratch tried to catch her.

- “FBI!”- I shouted and pulled the trigger. But I didn’t get him, I couldn’t even focus my gaze. He shot back, and I had to take two steps back, pushing my wife behind me to keep her safe.

- “Are you ok?”- I whispered as she nodded.

- “Are you?”

- “Yes, let’s go, Emily is on the run.”

We went upstairs but didn’t find anything. Instead, we heard Alvez’s voice from the first floor and decided to regroup with him.

- “Prentiss!”- I yelled as soon as I heard another gunshot. I was on edge, ‘cos I knew at the sight of Scratch I wasn’t going to talk to him, I wasn’t hoping for an interrogation or even to see him rot in jail. No. I wanted to be the one to put a bullet in that man’s head. I needed to see him bleed and get cold to be sure no one else in my family was ever going to be threatened by him.

- “Lower your weapon, damn it!”- Prentiss whispered as I found her and Matt behind some boxes on the first floor.

- “Where is Scratch?”- I asked immediately.

- “He is upstairs.”- Em whispered.- “Tag in here, Simmons and Alvez can box him in.”

- “No, I need to go find him.”

- “No, no, no, Spence. Please. I need someone I know is real right now, all right?”- Emily begged me and my wife moved closer to her and wrapped her arms around her. Simmons took his chance and ran away to catch Scratch. When my wife moved from Emily, I wrapped my arms around Prentiss and held her close to me.

- “Are you ok?”- I whispered as Prentiss nodded and tried not to cry.

- “Do you wanna go to the car?”- (Y/N) asked.- “This whole floor is clear. Scratch was alone here. Cocky bastard.”

- “Yeah, I need to get out of here.”- Emily replied. I held her and helped her walk as my wife grabbed her from the other side and supported her weight too,-

- “Scratch is down.”- we heard Alvez’s voice on the monitor a few seconds later.- “I repeat, Scratch is down.”

And though the nightmare was over, I didn’t feel relieved at all.

- “He fell, trying to escape.”- Luke explained to us as we stood next to the body. It made his death real, but it didn’t help with closure. It felt oddly wrong. The bastard was dead but all the pain he had caused was still here, hunting us. Knowing he was gone wasn’t enough to make it go away.

Coming back home to our kids was all we needed. That day, after visiting the team at the hospital, and dragging Emily along for a check-up, we went to Sofia’s and spent the rest of the day with our babies and my mother. Raven was so happy to see us she didn't let either of us go the entire day. Not even for nap time. (Y/N) held Vincent most of the time, she didn’t want to let him go, even when our 22-month-old wasn’t very excited to be stopped from running around.

- “We need time off from work.”- my wife whispered as we both lay on her old bed, holding our sleepy babies close to us.

- “We do.”- I replied and moved my hand from Raven’s back to my wife’s leg, rubbing it carefully a few times.

- “Maybe permanently.”- she added after a few seconds. But I didn't have an answer for those words. Not yet at least. So I just closed my eyes and sighed, ready to fall asleep.

(Y/N)’s point of view

Stephens’ funeral was something I wasn’t ready to deal with. I still felt overwhelmed by everything that had happened, and I didn’t feel prepared to face Monica, his wife. When I saw her sitting with their two kids, I kept seeing myself instead, crying over Spencer’s casket.

I didn’t know how to deal with the angst that that image produced me. I just held my husband’s hand tight as we stood next to Penelope and Simmons. Speeches were said, and people spoke about Stephen’s incredible career, his brilliant mind, and his good heart. All the things we were never going to share with him.

Somehow, Emily was strong enough to say some words at the ceremony. Being in a cemetery wasn't doing any good for anyone’s mental health at the moment, but we loved Stephen too much not to be there to say one last goodbye.

- “We never get to say good-bye the way we want, and when we deal with a loss so sudden and cruel, our emotions can overwhelm us.”

Prentiss’ voice was clear and strong. I bit my lips to stop crying, and Spencer wrapped an arm around me, kissing the top of my head.

- “Stephen Walker was a good agent, but he was a better man. He made the world a better place, and we can honor him by doing the work he never got to do.”

He never got to watch his kids grow. He never got to kiss his wife one more time. He didn’t get to retire, have a life, catch Mr. Scratch, and watch how he made the world a better place. There were too many things Stephen didn’t get to do, and all that ‘cos a psycho killer murdered him. I just sobbed and hid my face in Spencer’s shirt. He held me tight and didn’t let me go during the entire ceremony.

I couldn't even talk to Monica, I was too affected. However, I watched Emily and JJ talking with her, so after they lowered the casket and most people were gone, Spencer whispered in my ear:

- “Ready to go?”- and I just nodded.

- “Prentiss asked us to meet her at the BAU.”- Mat announced to us as we started walking. I didn’t want to go there, I wanted to go home and be with my kids. But I knew if Em wanted us to go to the BAU, it was serious. It wasn’t a meeting at Rossi’s after something had emotionally affected the team, it was formal.

When we walked into the conference room, Emily was waiting for us. She stood alone, like taking the room in. God knows how fucked up she was after being taken by Scratch, we had very little time to talk to her. We had little time for anything and everything at that moment. Rossi stood by her side as we all heard her saying to Matt.

- “I wanted to thank you for all of your help.”

- “Well, it was good to be of help. Ever since the IRT went down, I've been sitting on my hands waiting for a new assignment.”- he replied with a short smile.

- “We should sit down tomorrow. We can talk about that.”- Em suggested with a nod.

- “I'd like that.”

I don’t know why knowing there was a chance Matt joined the team made me feel better about my constant thoughts of leaving. Maybe ‘cos it meant someone else could step in and take our place.

- “So we all need to discuss what Peter Lewis' death means for this team.”- Emily was in full chief-of-department mode. Spencer, who was standing by my side, held my hand and intertwined our fingers as he kept looking at Prentiss.

- “It means that Hotch can come back.”- Penelope suggested, which I hadn’t thought about to be honest. Would he like to come back to this job? A job I didn’t know if I wanted anymore?

- “Yeah. We spoke to him. He was relieved that he and Jack were out of danger. They're out of Witness Protection, but...”- Rossi paused as if he didn’t want to break our hearts with the truth.

- “He's not coming back, is he?- JJ finished his sentence and David just nodded.

- “He loves being a full-time dad.”- Prentiss added- “He never got to do that before, and, let's face it, in this job…”

- “There's always gonna be another Scratch, and he's lost enough.”- Rossi’s words were somber, but filled with honesty. Of us all, Aaron Hotchner was the one person who had been forced to sacrifice too much for the team, for the victims, for the benefit of the Bureau. He deserved a life out of that madness and just be happy. Who knew? Maybe Beth could take him back after all those years.

- “We all have.”- Tara pointed out and looked at me. Of course, she knew I was a mess. But to be fair, we were all destroyed after those last couple of days.

- “Yes. We have, which is why the director has ordered us to take some time off from handling cases.”

At that moment right here, I felt like a whole brick wall had been lifted from my shoulders.

- “But before we all leave, there's one last thing I need to say.”- Prentiss continued talking. - “Scratch got deeper into my head than I care to admit, and the only way I was able to stay sane was by repeating a mantra, two words. You know what those two words were?”

- “Fuck you?”- I asked, but Prentiss shook her head.

- “Wheels up. It saved my life when I wasn't sure I was gonna make it because it reminded me that you were out there fighting, so take your rest... You've earned it. But when we get back, wheels up, Matt.”- Em turned to Simmons and he looked at Rossi for a second before answering:

- “Wheels up, Emily.”

- “Wheels up, Tara.”- Prentiss asked and I closed my eyes for a second, feeling the anxiety filling my body. My friend was about to ask us all one by one if we committed to the team after our weeks off and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life.

- “Wheels up.”- Lewis replied with a short smile.

- “Wheels up.”- JJ said before she was asked to answer,

- “Wheels up.” - Penelope did the same, and her voice cracked slightly.

- “Wheels up.” - Luke added

- “Damn right, wheels up.”- Rossi gave it a twist and then turned to my husband. His hand was still holding mine and I gave it a little squeeze. He looked at me and then at the people around us and finally nodded as he replied.

- “Wheels up.”

And then, they all stared at me. I didn’t know what to answer; I was feeling my peers’ pressure. So I opened my mouth and before I knew it, I heard myself saying.

- “Wheels up.”

And I immediately regretted it. 

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[pavedinashes-if]

WINNER SNIPPET

The Winner of this XMas' Snippet Raffle is here. Our lucky one wished the following content: MC: Mollie (aka Mols, F) RO: Felix, relationship stage, pre-breakup Setting: Xmas / Winter Setting - FLUFF vibes Thanks for allowing me to post it here. 🫶

Felix steps out of the car, his breath immediately condensing in the sharp, wintry air. The season is at its peak, the world around him covered under a blanket of snow. At least the snowfall has eased for now—though the wind still bites sharply at any exposed skin. Tugging the collar of his jacket closer to his neck, a faint shiver courses through him before he turns to the car trunk. He pops the trunk open and pulls out two bags, slinging them over his shoulders before walking toward the passenger seat. His boots crunch softly in the snow as he circles the vehicle. Felix approaches the door cautiously, opening it slowly. His gaze flickers briefly toward you inside. 

(more below the cut)

You sit still, hands resting lightly in your lap, your posture tense yet composed beneath the blindfold still secured over your eyes. His expression flickers with excitement at the sight of you, but there's also a subtle trace of insecurity, unsure whether he’s doing the right thing.

Positioning himself by the door, he rests his hand lightly on the door frame, ensuring you won’t bump into it. “May I?”

You nod silently, lifting a hand toward the direction of his voice. His fingers close around yours softly, still warm despite the chill in the air. Felix keeps his grip careful, afraid to press too firmly, but even more reluctant to let go. Slowly, he guides you from the seat, his gaze flickering anxiously over your every movement. His free hand hovers near your head, in case you waver. Each subtle shift makes his mind race: Are you cold? Comfortable? Uneven on the icy surface? "One sec," Felix says softly as he closes the door behind you.

When he stops in front of you again, he glances down at his hands, turning them slightly before exhaling softly to warm them. He carefully lifts his fingers, hesitating just at the edge of your blindfold. Slowly, he slips his fingers beneath the fabric, removing it gently. When the blindfold comes away, his lips curve into a smile almost instantly. The moment your eyes meet his, something in him jolts. It happens every time—a pull so deep it leaves his chest tight. His gaze softens as he watches your eyes blink, adjusting to the pale brightness of the winter landscape.

The moment your eyes adjust to your surroundings, your expression turns puzzled. “Where are we?” you ask, your tone unsure but curious. He glances toward the hut in the distance, then back at you. As he tucks the blindfold into his jacket pocket his fingers brush something cool and smooth—the small surprise he has hidden there. The feel of it steadies him, though the gesture is unconscious.

“I just thought…” He hesitates, his words faltering, the sentence dangling unfinished. “With how fucked up things have been at home lately, I…” His voice trails off, his gaze dipping for a brief moment before meeting yours again.

“That you’ve brought me to a murder house in the middle of nowhere to solve my problems?” you continue with a raised brow.

Felix freezes, the words hitting him like a blow. His face falls completely, panic flickering in his eyes. “W-what? I…” he stammers, his gaze darting from the hut to you, his stomach suddenly heavy with dread. “No, I… I’m sorry. Was it a stupid idea? It was a stupid idea. How could I… We can just—”

“No, no, it was just a joke,” you interrupt him, your tone a bit more light this time, more reassuring.

Relief washes over him, though his expression remains skeptical. He searches your face, still unsure if you are truly okay, but then you smile—that smile, the one he knew so well and had come to adore. It’s enough to melt his doubts. He exhales shakily, then extends a hand toward you. “Shall we?” he asks softly.

You nod, slipping your hand into his. The two of you walk together toward the hut, snow crunching underfoot as it clings stubbornly to the soles of your shoes. The wooden steps creak faintly, the sound muted at first by the snow before becoming clearer. Felix reaches into his pocket, his fingers quickly finding the key. He unlocks the door, pushing it open with a loud click.

Stepping inside, he walks to the armchair near the window, setting your bags down carefully. Turning back, he catches sight of you moving through the small cabin, your eyes taking everything in. A smile spreads across Felix’ face once more as he watches you curiously inspecting the cabin, your eyes roving over every detail. There is a warmth to your presence that seems to ease every space, filling it with a subtle but undeniable life.

Just as you begin to shrug off your jacket, he moves quickly toward you. “Let me,” his voice gentle but carrying a touch of eagerness. You nod, your hands occupied with the scarf around your neck. Felix’ hands brush lightly against your shoulders as he reaches for your coat, and as you finally free your scarf, he leans in. His lips press softly to the back of your neck, the kiss brief but lingering enough for the warmth of your skin to register against his mouth.

He notices you stiffen ever so slightly, caught by the surprise, and he feels the faintest shiver ripple through you. Felix can’t help the smile that follows. He has caught you off guard in the way he always enjoys—not in jest, but with affection.

He slides the jacket off your shoulders and carries it to the coat hook by the door, hanging it carefully alongside your scarf. Then he turns back to you. “Why don’t you sit for a moment? I’ll get us a couple of mugs.” Without waiting for a reply, he moves toward the kitchen area. The cupboards are small and painted with slightly peeling white lacquer. As he opens one of them, he instantly finds two ceramic mugs with faded blue patterns.

Felix returns to you, carrying the mugs and placing them gently on the small wooden table in front of you. You are settled on the sofa opposite, sinking into its cushions. He straightens, offering a quick smile before turning back toward his bag. From the depths of it he retrieves a thermos and a small box. Unfastening the lid of the thermos, the rich, thick aroma of hot chocolate wafts into the room. He pours the steaming drink into the two mugs. A curl of steam rises from each cup as he slides your mug carefully toward you. Then, he opens the small box, its contents hidden from your view for now.

“What’s that?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

Felix smirks, a touch of pride dancing in his expression. “I brought us something extra,” he says lightly.

You look at it with a mix of suspicion and amusement, watching as he opens the lid with a small flourish. Inside are cookies—partly golden, partly darker brown and slightly uneven in a way that hints they aren’t store-bought. “You brought cookies?” you ask, laughter slipping into your voice as you eye them.

“Not just any cookies,” he replies, his tone suddenly playful. “I baked these myself.”

“You baked them?” Your incredulity is almost comical, and you stare at him as if he’d claimed to have invented the wheel.

“Hey, don’t be unfair,” Felix protests, though he grins at your reaction. “I can learn new things, you know. There was this video on social media—foolproof.” With that, he reaches into the box confidently, plucking out one of the biscuits. He examines it briefly, then takes a bite with an exaggerated air of self-assurance. The sharp crack echoes in the room, and Felix’ face immediately twists with pain. It slices through his jaw and shoots up into his skull, leaving him frozen for a moment.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Your voice is panicked as you quickly scoot closer to him, your hands reaching out instinctively, unsure where to touch.

With a wince, Felix only manages a low “Mmm” in response, his face still contorting in pain. A moment of tense silence follows. “Shit, I think I’ve chipped a tooth.” His voice is strained, his attempt to downplay the situation failing miserably.

You immediately lean forward, concern flashing in your eyes. “I’ll check where the nearest dentist is,” you say, already pulling out your phone to search for one.

“No, no, it’s not necessary…” He raises a hand, halting you mid-movement.

Hesitation audible in your voice. “Are you sure? Not that you...”

“Really, it’s fine...” he mutters, trying to reassure you despite the still-growing discomfort in his face. He’s planned this whole thing for so long—he doesn’t want something as silly as this to ruin the weekend. The last thing he wants is for his own clumsiness to change everything now.

You sigh, then you gently take the cookie from his hand. “Then no more cookies,” you say with a light chuckle, shaking your head.

Felix tries to recover with a feigned seriousness, though his smile still tugs at the corners of his lips. “Well, at least we won’t be unarmed if a killer shows up,” he says while his eyes flicker briefly toward you, hoping for a laugh, but unsure if the joke will land.

You, however, don’t respond with laughter. Instead, you meet his gaze with something more—a genuine, warm smile. It wasn’t one of those quick, polite gestures, but something deeper, more comforting that makes his stomach flutter and his cheeks flush.

“Oh, wait, I’ve got something else,” he says suddenly. He almost forgot and springs to his feet, making his way quickly to the coat hanging by the door.

“Should I get the first aid kit?” you ask, half teasing but still worried, the concern lingering in your voice.

Felix’ hand closes around something cool and smooth. For a moment, he freezes and his gaze softens as he considers the weight of the moment, his thoughts clouded with the effort to lighten the mood once more. He turns toward you slowly, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest of moments before he lowers himself to the floor across from you. When he looks up again, he offers his closed hand in your direction.

“What comes next?” you ask, your voice now marked with clear skepticism. There’s no masking the wariness in your tone after all the surprises, the sudden shifts that seem to find their way into your afternoon.

He slowly opens his hand while his eyes never leave yours. The small object in his hand, tucked carefully into his palm, finally becomes clear as your eyes fall upon it. It’s a glass heart, deep green and smooth, catching the light in a way that makes it almost glow. He notices your breath catching slightly at the unexpected sight, and Felix’ smile spreads wider, something warm, tender, and entirely unguarded on his lips. He can’t hide the pride that flickers there—no matter how small the gesture seems, it feels significant. Seeing your eyes so warm and tender, to him, it’s as if the room disappears, leaving only the intensity of your gaze. “I found it yesterday on the beach in Nice,” he says softly, his voice a little tighter now, as if the memory of the moment has a more personal weight than he realised. His heart races, the feeling he had just the day before when he'd discovered the shard of glass, shaped like a heart, half-buried among the stones and pebbles along the shore. He remembers how he carefully picked it up, hardly believing his luck to find something so unique. The memory brings a rush of warmth. He exhales softly, still holding the glass heart carefully between his fingers, and glances back at you, his smile steady but just the slightest bit nervous now.

“It’s beautiful,” you say as you pick it up from his palm to take a closer look, your voice soft as you gaze at the delicate glass heart.

“You’re beautiful.” The words slip out without thinking, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I love you, Mols,” he adds.

[edsbacktattoo]

HI BESTIE COMING IN TO MAKEOUT WITH YOU RN. HOW ARE WE DOING??? I'LL GO FIRST: SO SO FUCKING UNWELL <3 JSDKLSDHJKL

But also your tags on my analysis,,, 👁️👁️

I have Since Shifted on things a little bit after making that post, because I've seen others point things out, as well as noticed differences myself.

SO I'M COMING IN TO TALK EVEN FURTHER ANALYSIS WITH YOU BECAUSE SHDJKSDSK YEAH THE MAN IN THE FOREST OKAY OKAY SO-

There's speculation right now that the man in blue in the top picture and the man with his back to the camera in the bottom picture are the same person. And the current speculation I've seen right now is that it's fucking Hornigold.

But I also wouldn't be surprised if it's like, some other sort of threat too? Like some sort of British Admiral or someone else out to get the lot of them? Or maybe they're entirely different people shdjks BUT I'M LEANING TOWARDS THERE BEING SOME SORT OF CONNECTION,,,

Because like, the Wee John shot comes right before Ed's barrel shot. So I'm like 👀👀👀

BUT REGARDLESS, LOOKING DIRE/DRAMATIC FOR A FEW REASONS.

I was so ~*~swept up~*~ by the beauty that is Wee John in drag in that first shot that I didn't really pay attention to the surroundings. If you look closely, it doesn't really look that much like a party anymore, but some sort of hostage situation/attack. Or maybe it WAS a party, but then whoever the hell that is crashed it.

Because Wee John's hands seem to be bound, someone appears to be tied to the mast, Roach looks like he's having a Bad Time in the foreground, etc etc.

And I THINK it's the Revenge? So like, they were partying, and then chaos ensued, or something along those lines.

AND NOT ONLY THAT, BUT LIKE...

Ed looks desperate, man. And the lighting and his costume/makeup all match up. And because he's wearing the fucking pearls, and has his hair back, and doesn't have his makeup on, this makes me think that ALL of this is in the latter half of the season.

His desperation also makes me think that whoever the fuck THAT is captured/did something bad to Stede. Like maybe...

Whatever led to him screaming like THIS. ((I know there's a high possibility it could be something funny like a crab getting a little 🍆🦀 or something equivalent. BUT ALSO, WASN'T A TORTURER CAST?????))

Anyway, TLDR, they were trying to have a nice party, whoever the fuck that is crashed it and fucked with the crew and/or did something horrible with Stede, and Ed is fucking PISSED ABOUT IT.

((dude if that is the case, and like, they haven't fully made up, yet ed goes absolutely INSANE trying to protect stede??? that's one of my favorite tropes so i'll be in the Ground hope you know that))

anyway kiss kiss smooch smooch rolling into my grave <3

JODI JODI YAAAAAAY I ALWAYS LOVE LOVE LOVE WHEN YOURE IN MY INBOX!!!! it means i’m in for a good time! and MY GOD did you deliver!!!

i’m obsessed with this theory! i think you’re right - this very well could be Hornigold, which would explain Ed’s desperation and unease. It would also explain the barrel situation. “He treated us like dogs — worse than dogs.” Maybe this is finally his chance to get back at this prick.

In terms of the party on the Revenge:

Talent show? 👁️👁️

Maybe they’re finally doing what they were going to before everything went to shit. It would explain Wee John in drag! Maybe Hornigold seizes the The Revenge midway through? This also means that this could happen post reunion, which explains the pearls and the hair tied back.

I can’t recall if it was a torture or an executioner that was cast! Does anyone have that info hiding anywhere? You could be right about that too Jodi! Hornigold’s taken Stede captive and Ed has to get him back even if they haven’t made up yet, or something along those lines.

WAIT! What if the beach gunfighting scene is them returning to each other after all that?

UH OH

If I think about this any more I’m going to die 😌👍 this response was not nearly as coherent as what you’ve presented here, but we’ve been in the clown car together since the start so I’m starting to think we could communicate telepathically at this point.

[rimouskis]

I am genuinely upset about Andi! WTF is FSG doing? She's one of the best in the entire league! The pens online presense was top tier but with ITR gone last year, and now Andi, I don't have any idea what their plans are. Please let Jen be safe! I'm sure Andi will find a place. I'm not too worried for her. The Pens media department tho

I really wish her the best in whatever she does next. She was at the helm at the peak of the Pens' social media engagement and prominence, and while that fell off as she ascended the ladder and became a VP/further removed from the day-to-day posting, I think she did a ton of good work here.

I'll be very interested in how the department reconfigures in her absence. There seem to be a lot of power vacuums right now, with lots of people with long tenures at the Pens departing. Part of me hopes there's a chance for young blood; other teams have been doing more innovative, more curious, and more creative stuff in terms of their media. While losing legacy employees is a loss, I can only hope that there's an infusion of youthful, out-of-the-box thinking coming our team's way. It's the best we can hope for.

[creepyscritches]

I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.

Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.

What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is

1) intricately interwoven with the federal government

2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)

3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business

4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)

The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.

Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).

The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.

Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.

I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.

I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.

The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.

[thebiggerbear]

where is she?

Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.

Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)

Word Count: 1019

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy

@solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria

@believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch

@bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz

@kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae

You can also read on AO3

You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”

“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan. 

“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.

When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.

“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.

Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again. 

“Ben!” You called. 

Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.   

When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”

America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“It could all be ours, you know.”

“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”

Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.

When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.

“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.

Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest. 

“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”

Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”

Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.

Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”

Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.

He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.

A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”

A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.” 

When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[thecordelialetters]

I’ll love you in every multiverse I Five Hargreeves x Reader

WC: 1,791

Post Apocalypse Au! ( Yes Im writing another one )

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.

Disclaimer: This takes place after season one if Viktor didn’t blow up the moon.

The Umbrella Academy had saved the world from its supposed end. The siblings had lounged around the academy slowly letting reality set that they had avoided their demise. It was the next morning when each of them woke up to check their surroundings, making sure that doomsday wasn’t there.

Five went downstairs for his morning coffee when he saw Allison scrolling for flights on her phone and Klaus checking where was the next place he could buy drugs.

“Leaving so soon?” He questioned.

Allison looked up at him although happy to see her brother, guilty because he was right.

“I have to go see my daughter. After everything that has happened I need her now just as much as she needs me.”

Five nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from, although a little irked she wasn’t wasting any time running away.

A loud zap was heard and wind swirled toward the top of the room. A red portal had opened above the living room. The rest of the siblings (Luther, Viktor, Diego) had rushed down to see what the loud noise was. It was deja vu, like when Five had returned for the first time. In the portal, they could see a fight happening. Figures that had looked like them in a place that looked like their home. A woman’s back came close to the portal, they could see she was in combat but stood observing. Another man who they couldn’t identify, rushed forward and pushed the woman through the portal.

A girl who looked to be in her early twenties had fallen through. Her face was covered in soot, her hair black as night, and her eyes closed in pain. She was wearing a navy body suit that clung to her figure, and blood, not her own, stained the fabric.

The Hargreeves gathered around to observe this strange phenomenon trying to assess the danger. They were so used to people being against them, so why would this time be different.

You coughed loudly before sitting up, and each sibling tensed with adrenaline. The girl looked around the room with blazing blue eyes before she landed on the youngest Hargreeves.

“Five?” you questioned.

Everyone turned to look at Five.

Luther spoke up first, “You know her?”

“I have never met her in my life.” Five retorted.

The girl dusted off her suit before standing. “Well if you never met me, you either will meet me or I’m dead in this universe.”

“The names y/n , y/n Hargreeves.”

“I don’t remember our father adopting anyone else,” Diego said. He raised his knives, carefully ready to strike at any move she would make.

“That’s because I wasn’t adopted into this family. Married actually.” And with this, she held up her left hand, a beautiful diamond ring shone in the light with a gold band beneath it. The diamond was embellished with 2 smaller emeralds on the side, perhaps representing her lover’s eyes.

“Married? To who.” Viktor questioned.

“To him.” She looked back at Five.

“Well not to him, an alternate version of him. We met a few years ago and got married, nice seeing the family again,” she nodded her head towards the siblings.

“So what are you saying you guys are married in a different timeline?” Klaus asked.

“No, not a different timeline, a different universe.” She sat down on the couch.

Your brain felt like it was rattling against your skull, and your body ached. You took a minute to think. Fuck, it was going to be difficult to get back to your Earth, and to make things better you had no idea where to start.

“Alright before you all start firing questions at me, someone get me a cup of coffee, black please.” You threw a jacket that hung over the couch on you to hide the state of your clothes. "Allow me," The alternate of your husband said. Five quickly blinked the two of you into the car and began to drive, leaving his brothers and sisters dumbfounded. "So you and I, are married in another multiverse."

"Correct." "You look to be about my age, how come I haven't met you yet here." Surely he would remember someone as beautiful as you. "Well it's as I said, my version here could be dead or you might not have met her yet. That being said although 18 out of the 20 multiverses I have visited, we are together." "And the other two?" "In Earth 216, we are strangers, never have crossed paths, and never will. We simply live our lives with other people." Five's eyebrows furrowed. For some reason even if he didn't know you, he didn't like the idea of you with someone else. "In Earth 894, we were madly in love but our egos destroyed us, and we were never the same since." Five could tell there was more to that story but didn't press any further. "So tell me about us, how did we end up together." "I was Diego's friend first, he and I met in the police force. Diego kinda took me under his wing as I was the youngest graduate out of the academy. Perks of having a high IQ." Five raised his eyebrow at that. "Anyways, he invited me over after your father's funeral. " "Long story short, you fell in love with my charms and I was the only one who could tolerate you. We got married not too long after. It was a small wedding but it's my most precious memory. Our families had gathered together at the church no too far away from here. You cried on our wedding day by the way." Inciting a side glare from Five.

"But...that's where we had some problems." "Do you remember when I fell out of that portal?" Five nodded his head remembering seeing a fight in the alternate dimension. "Well, apparently some of the 43 are not too happy about their powers, nor happy about living among the common people, they believed themselves superior and it became chaos." The two of you arrived at Griddys. Five walked over to the side of your door and opened it for you. "Thank you, darling." You said with a smile. Five's heart spiked at the nickname. He shook his head at the feeling, obviously, it's just what you were used to calling YOUR Five. The two of you sat at the counter and ordered your coffees and sweets. You signed before pulling out a small stack of photos from inside your suit. "This is us and your family." The photo was a picture of you and Five on your wedding day. Five had never looked so happy. Beside him was Luther who he assumed was his best man, next to him was Viktor, Diego, and a man who looked like you. You must have caught his staring, "That's my brother Damien." He nodded and looked beside you. You were wearing a long white dress with intricate lacing, the dress was strapless with a square neckline and had a small slit on the side. Your veil was flipped over your head and flowed down your back. Beside you, was Allison as your maid of honor and two other women who he assumed were your friends. You weren't looking at the camera but at him. The next picture you gave him was a close-up of the two of you. You were the one taking the photo. His alternate self was older and had longer hair and facial hair, but he faced your side kissing your cheek affectionately. "This is my favorite photo of you." You handed him another photograph but this one didn't have you in it. This one was a picture of just Five and in his arms a little girl. She looked like you. Five gulped, a million questions ran through his head. Could this... could this have been his future if he didn't make that stupid jump? You said that not all multiverses are the same, you and him could never meet in this one. But that didn't stop his heart from hurting at the thought of missing out on a life of happiness because of his arrogance. "Before you jump to conclusions, she's not ours. She's my niece that we were babysitting. You just looked so sweet with her. You had always told me you wanted kids before but I wasn't ready." You had looked away sadly. In your home, Five always wanted to settle down and raise a family of his own, but you felt like you weren't ready. Now you regretted not because you weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back home. The two of you sat in silence drinking your coffee, both thinking about the what-ifs. "So...how did you end up here. I've been able to time travel but I've never thought about the possibility of multi-dimensional traveling." "As I said there was a fight between us, your family, and some of the 43. They called themselves the Ascendants. Believe to be the superior race." You took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ascendants had a man who could travel the multiverse with his own power, no special gear or machine need. We had planned to capture him but miscalculated. He was ready for us and he aimed to take out me, his biggest threat."

You took another breath before looking into Five's eyes. "I can warp reality. It is essentially in the name. I can manipulate reality itself, altering the fabric of existence according to my will." "But not without a cost," you continued. "Each time I control something, and the bigger it is, the more of my life force I use." Five sat in silence. This was a lot of information to take in. "So what now. How do I help you get back home." "I have...no clue. You were always the smarter one of the two of us. You were the one who had built the machine, of course before it was destroyed when Viktor took out the house." You sighed. It was going to take a lot of research and time to figure it out. "Well, I'm newly retired and have nothing on my plate so let's start at the library." He hopped off the stool and made his way to the door. "You coming?" He said turning to look at you. You smiled, he was a great man. Even if this Five wasn't your husband you loved him no matter what. You ran up looping your arm in his making your way out of Griddy's. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ Pt 2 of this story is out now!

Author's note: I got tons of drafts just full of ideas I've had and never gone through with. I've been rewatching the MCU films and Spiderverse so that was kinda my inspiration for this one. If you like my work check out my other Five stories here! I also always appreciate comments and feedback! It definitely keeps me going. She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.

[itsthecline]

the greatest chapter one

it girl!reader x drew starkey smau

summary you finally get home and see the overwhelming amount of support you’ve been getting

next chapter

yourusername posted photos!

liked by leahkateb , daniela.orti , serenaapagee and others

yourusername coming home to all of you blowing up my phone was the biggest weight off of my chest and i’m so happy to have all of you supporting me through my time in the villa. my heart is so so full of love for each and every one of you , so as a thanks , here’s a few pictures i captured

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username my queen has come home!!!! my east coast queen babygirl lovebug honey boo boo!!!

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username firm believer in you and rob coulda made it out alive had he not been a pussy ass bitch

leahkateb MY HEART💋💋💋💋

↳ yourusername i already miss you with everything in my body

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serenaapagee love you more than life🥹

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↳ yourusername 🙈

username i didn’t want this season to end bc i needed to see u happy

↳ username no seriously she looked so sad for the rest of the season after her and rob broke up

username soooooo does that mean you’ve seen the edits⁉️

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janacraig_ love youuuuuu

↳ yourusername 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

username we needed more of ur face on our screens fr fr

robert_rausch i look good in the second one ngl

↳ yourusername the way you alr said that when i initially took the pic n showed u🙃

username ethan not being featured is SO real #teamleah

username you ate with telling rob to go choke queen!

yourusername tweeted!

since i’m all famous n shit now this is me shooting my shot with drew starkey: hi i love u pls marry me

20k replies | 9k retweets | 26k likes | 2k favorites

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↳ username byeeeeeeee go get him girl

↳ username this is so real and feral of you

↳ username oh this was not on my 2024 bingo card

↳ madelyncline drewsephstarkey

↳ yourusername now why would you do THAT😭

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↳ jdaviss28 drewsephstarkey

↳ yourusername fowl. absolutely fowl.

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↳ drewsephstarkey hi

THIS TWEET HAS BEEN DELETED

an ahhhhh here we go

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[jaeyunverse]

kiss cam

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, frenemies to lovers, high school au, basketball au

wc: 3770

warnings: profanity, mentions of kidnapping

summary: you were fully prepared to spend valentine’s day alone. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.

note: i know i’m off season but i still hope y’all enjoy <3

masterlist

It was Valentine’s Week and you were absolutely, extremely, horribly miserable.

You didn’t particularly care about the celebrations, but the feeling of loneliness first began to creep in when the student council appointed a Valentine’s Day Dance committee and made them decorate the entire school. 

There were banners and streamers hanging everywhere. The culinary club was selling heart-shaped cookies and the broadcasting club was busy urging students to get their dance invites every few hours. You wished the PA system would malfunction and they would finally shut up. 

Some boys even had the genius idea to capitalise Valentine’s Day and ask people out on behalf of the students who paid them for their services. They called themselves Cop-Your-Crush. 

Classes were being interrupted all day long. You were witnessing a grand proposal being made multiple times a day. Just today, you had seen three girls being asked out and each proposal had been better than the one before.

Karina got asked out through a song the choir group sang for her. She quite literally burst into tears because her boyfriend, Soobin, still remembered the song they had first kissed to. 

NingNing got asked out when a member of Cop-Your-Crush sweet-talked Mrs. Kim into letting him take over her presentation. He’d prepared a cute montage using the pictures provided to him by her boyfriend. 

Yeji got asked out by the cheerleaders. They had prepared a special cheer for her, courtesy of Heeseung, also a member of Cop-Your-Crush, and his girlfriend, Chaewon, who was cheer captain. They were both Yeji’s best friends and had spared no expense in helping her boyfriend deliver a memorable proposal. 

You thought the entire concept was corny, but it would have been nice to have someone ask you out too. You didn’t even have any expectations. Just a simple Hey, will you be my date to the Valentine’s Dance? would have sufficed. 

Needless to say, you were irritated and cranky. You were debating begging your mom to let you skip school tomorrow. It was the thirteenth of February, so Valentine’s spirit was definitely going to be at an all-time high. 

You slammed your locker door shut. Slumping against it, you clutched your books to your chest and sighed deeply. If only you had the courage to ask your crush to the dance. It was sort of surprising that he still didn’t have a date. 

He was really attractive and really popular. You wondered why—

“Keep moving, dummy,” a voice popped from behind you, and you couldn’t help the groan that left your mouth. Deciding to not acknowledge the person further, you pushed yourself off the locker and turned to leave in the opposite direction. However, they seemed to have different plans for you. Throwing an arm around your neck, Yang Jungwon twisted you around and said, “Class is this way.” 

“Piss off, Yang,” you snapped, trying to not stumble as he dragged you along. 

“Are you coming to the basketball game tonight?” Jungwon inquired.

He wasn’t much taller than you, so when you glanced up at him, you found your faces only a few inches apart. “Why?” 

“We’re playing Riverside High. You know there’s a bet between our schools, right? Losers have to jump in the lake at midnight.” 

“Okay. Let me know if you lose and I’ll meet you there to enjoy your humiliation.” 

Jungwon narrowed his eyes and flicked your forehead. You let out a sound of protest and slapped his hand away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I have better things to do,” you retorted. “I’m supposed to pick up my sister after her soccer practice and drive her to her friend’s house for a sleepover.” 

“That can be taken care of,” he answered immediately. “Riki will do the chauffeuring in your place.” 

You snorted. “No.” 

“C’mon!” Jungwon complained, moving to stand in front of you. You crossed your hands and raised an eyebrow. “I need you at the game tonight.” 

“Why?” 

“Because—” he hesitated— “because we always win when you’re watching from the stands. You’re our lucky charm.”  

Jungwon was making absolutely no sense. The Bears of Eastwood High were one of the best. They didn’t require lucky charms to win games. Besides, you’d never benefited from the so-called fortune Jungwon claimed you possessed. He definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting you at the court tonight. 

“You won the Christmas game,” you pointed out. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with my family at my childhood home.” 

“Well, I thought you were at the game,” Jungwon corrected. “That’s why we won.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Stepping past his figure blocking your way, you said, “You need to get rid of these superstitions.”  

“Please!” he begged, following after you the way a lost puppy would. “Winning tonight would give us a ticket to regionals! Can’t you let me have this?” 

The desperation in his voice was so evident that you couldn’t help the crack that appeared in your resolve. You weren’t one to believe in luck, but you still carried an Omamori to stay safe. 

You hadn’t exactly been the recipient of any good fortune lately, but your life had been sailing smoothly. Come to think of it, you’d probably subconsciously begun to depend on the charm. 

You were a hypocrite for making fun of Jungwon’s superstitions. 

“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll come. But—” you added immediately upon seeing a wide grin replace the pout on his face— “after I’m done with my chores. I’m not leaving Hyeri with Riki. He crashed his car into a trashcan last week. I was with him. My life flashed in front of my eyes.” 

Jungwon looked slightly amused. “Do you think you might be able to make it before half-time?” 

“Easily.”

“Nice,” he popped. The two of you had arrived at your classroom, so he ruffled your hair and bid you goodbye before making his way towards his friend group. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you muttered to yourself.

You finished dropping your sister earlier than expected. 

Her soccer practice had run short and when you’d checked your watch after seeing her off, you’d realised that the first quarter of the game would be ending in a few minutes. 

You glanced up at the screen displaying the scores as you walked into the gymnasium. 

8-3. Eastwood High in the lead. 

Good luck was a scam. Shaking your head, you searched for your best friend, Eunchae, in the stands. Your eyes stopped on a girl who was aggressively waving her hands in the air. 

You smiled and waved back, making your way to her. 

“I was worried you’d be late,” Eunchae said. 

You hummed. “Hyeri finished her practactice early so I was able to get here quicker. I don’t even know why Jungwon asked me to come. We’re in the lead.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she popped. “Second quarter just started. We should pay attention.” 

You turned to look at the court. While you’d been talking to her, Riverside had scored a 3-pointer. Eastwood was only 2 points ahead now. 

You could hear both schools’ coaches screaming despite the loud noise of the audience. Cringing a little when Mr. Jung blatantly cursed at Jungwon and told him to get his head out of his ass, you decided Eunchae had been right about being better safe than sorry. 

“Timeout!” Riverside High’s coach yelled. “Timeout!” 

The whistle rang and the playing 5 went jogging over to the sidelines. Jungwon’s eye caught yours as he scanned the stands and you waved at him awkwardly. He smiled and waved back, looking rather relieved to see you. 

“You guys are so cute,” Eunchae commented.

You whirled on her. “Excuse me?” 

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands defensively. “Jungwon and you would make a really good couple.” 

“What makes you think so?” 

“Other than the fact that he’s completely whipped for you?” Eunchae shrugged. “You’re into him as well. No! Don’t give me that look! I know you are. I’m not fucking blind, Y/N. You say he’s annoying but I don’t see you pushing him away. I think you love the attention he gives you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awfully exposed. “You’re delusional.” 

“Am I though?” She raised an eyebrow. “You both are together all the time. You can pretend all you want, but I know your petty and childish banter is just a cover for the horrible amount of flirting that’s hidden underneath.”

“I don’t flirt with him!” 

“He flirts with you and you entertain him! You claim to dislike him but hang out with him at school everyday! An idiot could tell by looking at you how much you enjoy being around him.”

You glared at Eunchae. “I don’t appreciate being psychoanalysed.” 

“You just don’t appreciate the truth.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s stopping you from asking him out to the dance, but I hope you come to your senses. You don’t wanna regret missing out on someone who cares so much for you.”

Thankfully, the whistle rang before you could formulate a reply. The game began again, and you focused your attention on the court. 

It was Eastwood’s way and the ball was in Jungwon’s hand. He aimed high and his eyes set on Jake who was standing at the far end of the court. However, instead of throwing the ball with all his might, he only flicked his wrist. 

The ball bounced between a Riverside player’s legs, and Heeseung, who was waiting a little behind him, grabbed the ball immediately. Instead of dribbling, the boy passed the ball right back to Jungwon. 

Jungwon caught it without stopping and sprinted to Eastwood’s side of the court. Your jaw dropped when you saw him manoeuvre his way through Riverside’s defence so flawlessly. Even though you’d watched him play multiple times, you’d never really been able to comprehend how good he was. 

He’d covered the court by himself without needing to stop or backtrack. It was as if he knew the opponent’s move even before they decided to make it. 

The crowd went wild the moment Jungwon executed the layup effortlessly. The whistle for half-time blew a few moments after and Eunchae turned to you. 

“That was so good!” she squealed. “He could go pro so easily!”

“He could,” you agreed. “He really is very good.”

You had to admit—watching Jungwon in his element made your heart beat at speeds you didn’t even know it was capable of reaching. You convinced yourself it was the adrenaline and the anticipation from watching the game. Your dad never sat still whenever he watched his favourite team play in the World Cup. 

“It’s time for the Kiss Cam.” Eunchae nudged you with her elbow. You turned to look at the big screen hanging from the roof of the gymnasium. The camera focused on Juyeon and Chaeyeon. The couple grinned and pointed at their recording on the screen in excitement before the latter grabbed the former’s collar and pulled him into a kiss. 

You felt a smile form on your face. You’d always thought the two of them were one of the cutest couples in your school. 

The camera then focused on Mr. Hwang, your biology teacher, and Mrs. Jung, your calculus teacher. You hooted and joined everyone else in the stands as they encouraged the two teachers to kiss. 

Whoever had decided the Kiss Cam victims was a genius. Mr. Hwang and Ms. Jung were the youngest faculty members in your school. It was a popular opinion amongst students that they looked cute together. Some even placed bets on whether it would be Mr. Hwang to make the first move or Ms. Jung. 

Naturally, the two of them didn’t kiss. They just smiled in embarrassment and waved at the camera, asking it to focus on someone else instead. 

You waited eagerly to see who the drone would target next. A jolt passed through your body when you saw yourself on the screen. 

Eyes widening, you shook your head and tried to tell them that you were single. The camera didn’t move despite your protests, instead zooming out to include Eunchae in the frame instead. 

You paused. 

Looked at her.

Considered. 

Raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m down if you—”

“To your left, you idiot!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you around. 

Yang Jungwon was standing in front of you with flowers in his hands. His hair was dripping with sweat and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting, but there was a shy smile on his face.

Your heart stopped as he got down on his knees and the entire gymnasium burst into cheers. 

“Hey,” he popped. 

“Hey,” you answered with much effort. Then added stupidly, “You’re on your knees.” 

“No comment about the flowers?” 

“Not when you’re on your knees for me in front of the entire school.” 

“Oooh, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I didn’t know this was why you begged me to come to the game.” 

He laughed and the sound was like music to your ears. You were nervous. You were rambling. There was no way he was going to ask you to the dance. He wouldn’t be stalling so much if he was. He wouldn’t—

Oh. 

He was giving you time to wrap your head around what was happening. This was clearly intended to be a well-planned surprise meant to catch you completely off-guard. He—

“Yeah, I would’ve been really bummed out if you hadn’t shown up. My efforts would have been for nothing.” 

“So I’m not actually your lucky charm?” 

“Of course, you are. I feel the luckiest when I’m with you.” Your chest swelled with an emotion you couldn’t identify. The gymnasium faded into the background and all you could hear was the sound of your heart thudding against your ribcage and Jungwon’s voice as he asked, 

“Will you make me lucky again by accompanying me to the Valentine’s Dance?” 

The game had ended twenty minutes ago. 

Eastwood had won by 10 points. You’d thought the difference was pretty good but your Mr. Woo, your school’s coach, didn’t seem to share your opinion. He’d claimed that Riverside never even should have been able to get within 15 points of Eastwood.

He’d been especially tense in the second half of the third quarter when the opposition had begun scoring back to back baskets. It had all worked out in the end nonetheless, all thanks to Yang Jungwon, the MVP of the match. 

You still couldn’t believe he’d asked you out and you refused to believe he’d done it in such a grand way. 

He was the definition of a jock and goofed around in school all day long. He was charming, sure, but you’d never known he was capable of pulling off something this big. 

You’d never even suspected he was a romantic. 

Your phone dinged and you unlocked it to check who was texting you. 

[eunchae]: wya? 

[y/n]: parking lot!! are u here? i’m leaning against my car

[eunchae]: noo i’m home :( btw are u still waiting for him?? 

[y/n]: yeah he asked me to but the team hasn’t come out of the gym yet

[eunchae]: yikes i heard mr. woo was hella mad we only won by 10 points.. maybe he’s yelling at the players right now

[y/n]: i’m p sure he is LMFAO

Your fingers hovered over your phone’s screen as you waited for Eunchae to type her reply. However, before she could send it, you felt the device being grabbed from your hand. 

“What the—” you started, but relaxed when you saw Jungwon standing in front of you with an amused expression on his face. “Yang.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Someone could have easily kidnapped you, you know?” 

“We live in the most boring part of the town.” You snorted. “Baek Seung threatening to chop his neighbour’s tree on local TV was the most interesting thing that happened this year.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your guard,” Jungwon said and moved next to you, leaning against the side of your car as well. He was wearing black sweats and a red hoodie. He smelt of cheap soap and his hair was damp, making you realise that he had probably showered. “Besides, Baek Sung actually followed through. We have a real criminal in our ranks.” 

“Didn’t you literally let five sheep loose in our middle school three years ago?” 

“That was just a harmless middle school graduating prank.”

“There’s no such thing as a middle school graduating prank.”

“Tell that to the current 8th graders who are planning their prank. I hear they’re going to stuff the hallway outside the principal’s office with helium balloons so she won’t be able to leave.”  

You stared at him, a small smile playing on your lips. Jungwon’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before he looked into your eyes again. 

“Why did you ask me to the dance?” you asked and turned on your side to face him. It was a stupid question but you were genuinely curious. 

Eunchae was right before. Jungwon flirted with you all the time and you always entertained him. You enjoyed the attention he gave you. But if this thing between you was just platonic, and if it was never going to progress into something real, you needed to know now. 

You didn’t want to hope and wait for something that was never going to happen. 

“Sunoo said I was an idiot for not shooting my shot with you,” he replied and turned on his side too. “He threatened to make a move on you if I didn’t get my shit together before Valentine’s Day.” 

You snorted. 

“Oh, also,” Jungwon added. “I really, really like you.” 

You felt a tidal wave of emotions override your senses. Euphoria, nervousness, breathlessness, giddiness, uncertainty and this inexplicable urge to squeal washed over you. 

Your heart went haywire inside your chest when Jungwon leaned closer to you and dipped his head so that his face was right in front of yours. 

“You’re blushing,” he whispered. 

You squeaked and buried your face in your hands. He grabbed your wrists and gently moved them out of the way. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I think that would be a health hazard,” you croaked, looking at anywhere but him. “My heart is beating concerningly fast right now. What if I drop dead?” 

“I can do CPR.” 

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smile. Your heart beat slowed down and you began feeling at ease. You wondered if Jungwon could tell that this was the first time someone had confessed to you. 

The entire concept of dating and being in a relationship was foreign to you. You doubted Jungwon had much experience in the field himself since he’d only had one girlfriend in kindergarten, but he seemed confident. 

You trusted him to take over the wheel and guide you through the strange waters of love. 

“Okay,” you breathed and closed your eyes. “Kiss me.” 

His hands cupped your cheeks, his soft lips brushing against yours. You sucked in a breath and just stood there, not really knowing what to do. 

Your hands itched to grab onto something, so you shifted closer to Jungwon and clutched the front of his hoodie in your fists. 

He smiled against your mouth as you rose on your toes and tilted your head to the side. 

But then you realised something and hastily broke the kiss. Jungwon stared at you in confusion, but before he could ask what was wrong, you blurted, “I like you too.” 

There was a pause. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so you clarified, “I thought I should make that clear. I mean, you confessed but I didn’t confess back even though I feel the same way and what if you thought I wasn’t into you. I am into you, by the way. I’ve been crushing on you since forever but I never knew how to say it—” 

Jungwon swooped in for a second kiss and you melted in his arms. You could get used to the feeling of his lips on yours. They fit together perfectly.  

“You are so cute.” He giggled after detaching his mouth from yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued, “Eunchae told me last week. She urged me to confess because she knew your stubbornness would never allow you to make the move.” 

“What?” you exclaimed, jerking away from him. “Where’s my phone? Give me my damn phone, Yang!” 

He grabbed arms before you could lunge at him and search him for your device. “Relax!”

“I’m going to kill her!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because—” you sputtered, struggling to get out of his grip— “because it’s embarrassing! I was pretending to not like you but you knew I was crushing on you the entire time!” 

“It’s not embarrassing!” Jungwon said. “It’s normal—Y/N stop!” 

You let your body fall limp in his arms. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“You’re seriously not going to let Eunchae’s nosiness stop us from having our first date, are you?”  

“What?” you asked and moved out of his grip.

He shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “It’s nothing special. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for some food.” 

“Oh,” you replied blankly. “Don’t you have a celebratory dinner with your team though?” 

“I can ditch them.”  

“You shouldn’t.” 

“Let me correct myself: I already ditched them. I want to spend tonight and celebrate with you.” 

Your heart swelled with happiness. “Really?” When was the last time someone outside of your parents prioritised you? You genuinely couldn’t remember. 

“Of course. Do you wanna get some McDonald’s?”

You nodded, but before he could make his way to the passenger’s seat of your car, you said, “Just so you know, I feel the luckiest when I’m with you too.” 

Yang Jungwon kissed you for the third time, and by no means was it the last, or even close to the last one you shared that day.  

[leah-lover]

Ibiza.

Part 1.

Alexia putellas x reader. Smut 18+

It was agreed upon in the woso community that a stay in ibiza was the usual holiday for football stars. Ibiza offered them a beach, cool resorts, adventures, and most importantly parties to celebrate the triumphs of the season. .

For you Ibiza was home, you lived there for the entire year. You witness celebrities, businessmen, and frat boys party all the same. However, your favorites were the tanned, mostly happy footballers that came to blow off some steam from all around the world. You liked hearing their stories and overall you loved their company.

This year was no different, coming off of a world cup, you knew the parties were going to be interesting.

The club you worked at was popular because of its strategic place in front of the beach. In it there was a place to party and another place to just relax. It was what drew the footballers to it as it was their favorite spot to hang out.

As you tended to the customer asking for tequila shots, you saw her enter the room. The impeccable queen of football, or as some might call her alexia putellas. She was as gorgeous as you remembered her to be. Her hair was less blond than the last time you two met. She was wearing a black, shoulderless jumpsuit with her hair resting on her shoulder. Surprisingly she was alone this time.

As she approached you, you got more and more nervous.

“Hola preciosa” she said with a big smile on her face. You tried to contain your smile as you looked in her hazel eyes, eyes that you have missed so much.

“ Sorry, do I know you?” you responded cheekily. You couldn't hold the joke any longer as you looked more into her eyes.

“You still drink vodka sodas? ” you rhetorically asked while preparing her drink.

“ no hey, i missed you, how are you?” she said with a pout on her face.

“ ale I am working now. You know I can't flirt with clients.” you respond as you hand her her drink.

“ So I am just a client.” she continues with the same pout on her face. You hand her her drink and she hands you her credit card.

“ No ale you are the light of my summer.” you smile at her. “ But you know my rules while I am working. I can't do this. Go enjoy your drink and say hi to your friends for me . Once I am done I will join you.”

She took her drink and left you after that and you continued serving your clients. You watched as one by one her friends all joined her. Her company included Mapi, ingrid, jenni, parti, and aitana. They all said hi to you as they ordered their drinks, patri even ordering a bottle of champagne. You watched from the corner of your eye as they laughed and drank until they were visibly tipsy.

“ Alright boss this is me.” you said as you closed all your tabs and headed to change your clothes.

You didn't know that Alexia was gonna join you tonight so your outfit was underwhelming compared to hers, nonetheless you still joined her at the beach.

She was again alone nursing her drink. “ hola.” you said as you made your way to her and sat on her lap.

“ Hey, how are you? I missed you.” you whisper into her ear. As she rubs her hand on your back she responds. “ I missed you too.”

“ what i heard was that you had your fun this year without me.” she continues.

“ Ale, you don't own me. We have our fun, but I can sleep with whoever I want whenever I want. No need for jealousy. ” you respond.

“ I know , I know. But I bet none of them make you cum like I do.” she whispered.

“ It's been a long time i think i forgot how you felt inside of me.”

“ Well that's not right. Let's go back to the villa and I will remind you.” she says as she takes your hand and walks you to her villa.

On the way there you talked about everything that went down since you last met, from her history making 4 trophies, to her struggle with injury.

Once you got to her house she eagerly pushed you towards the nearest wall and locked her lips with your in a needy hungry kiss. Her hands were all over you touching every available part to her as she bruised your lips and devoured your tongue.

You pulled apart just for a short while so that you can retake the breath she stole from you with her mouth.

“ Now I remember clearly all the times you made me cum and how hard I did reina.” you say with your voice filled with lust.

“I have been dreaming of this all year. Dreaming of you and of what I can do to your body. “ you say while looking in her eyes.

“ Let me show you how proud I am of all that you have done this season. Please reina.” you ask her.

She looks at you with confusion in her eyes because this is the first time you have ever asked to top her.

Without a word she takes your hand in hers and leads you to the bedroom. When you two arrive she lays on the bed and looks at you seductively. You take the hint and undress slowly.

Once you are naked you straddle her lap and begin to take her shirt off, then her bra.

“ you are so fucking beautiful.” you say as you memorize her upper body.

“ not more beautiful than you.” she says as she takes your face with her hands and gives you another kiss.

“ alexia tonight is about you.” you say to her when you pull out of her hold. You then move to her neck, her collar bone, her chest, and her stomach, giving her bruising kisses as you move down her body. Alexia wasnt loud when it comes to sex, so the small whispers you managed to get out of her as you kissed and squeezed her boobs were music to your ears.

You slid the rest of her jumpsuit off of her and pulled off her damp underwear too.

“ Are you enjoying the show reina. Because it looks like you are.” you say as you show her how wet you fingers are when dipped them in between her folds.

Alexia has previously shown you how she liked to be eaten so you didn't waste any time once you lowered your head to her core.

You gently kissed her folds before parting them with your tongue. Your tongue made slow contact with her clit a few times before you moved up to kiss her again.

“ I am so proud of you reina. You did so well this season despite everything. You deserve all the best in the world. “

You went back to her core again moving with more determination to make her come. Your hands roamed her body in the process before settling on her chest. Her fingers tangled in your hair as you do so.

She soon because to arch more and more as you changed you stepped.

“ just like that corazon. You are doing so well. So so good.” she said breathlessly.

You smile onto her clit and continue your motions.

“ I am gonna come nena.” she declares before her legs start to violently shake around your head and her cum and her come drops on your face.

After she settles down you clean her up and move to kiss her with her cum all over your mouth.

“ How do you taste?” you ask her.

“ not better than you.” she responds.

After she retakes her breath you ask her “ did you bring my favorite strap? ” to which she responds by getting out a thick rainbow colored strap from her bedside table.

“ Can you wear it?” you ask her.

“ do you want me to fuck you?” she asks, confused be you demand.

“ Please wear it and you will see.” She does as she is told and secure the harness on her core.

You then proceed to get on top of her and sit on the stap. It was painful at first but you got used to it quickly.

“ I told you I would give you a show.” you say as you blue on her cock.

Still shocked you take her hands and put them on your chest. She quickly realized your message and started moving her hands on your body. You kissed a few times before you threw your head back and focused solely on how the strap felt inside of you. Theatrical moans were soon to follow as alexias eyes and touches, and the strap were overwhelming you.

“ eres tan jodidamente sexy” says Alexia as you continue to bounce.

“ I am soo close ale. Can I come please?” you say desperately.

“ yes amor, come all over my cock.” it only took you a few more thrust for you to come undone. Alexia followed you soon after with the second orgasm of the night.

After you calmed down, you moved off the strap and layed next to her. She then disposed of it too and held you close.

“ if i knew this is what was in store for me i would have come here sooner.” she joked.

“ I am glad you liked it reina.”

“ We agreed you would stop calling me that last year.”

“ The nickname is still true isn't it you are still the queen.”

“ That's debatable.”

“ not really i would only put this show on for you and only you.”

“ So I expect that you will only be sleeping with me this summer.”

“ You wish but I have other plans with other people.”

[ma1dita]

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I���m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

[repulsiveliquidation]

Thorn in My Side || Jessie Fleming

warnings : mentions of injury and surgeries. insinuations of cheating and false accusations. angst. happy ending and smut will be in part two.

summary : you get injured, its Jessie's fault. or so you thought.

a/n : as i type this, i think i've figured out how to incorporate the smut! i'll get to writing as soon as this is posted! i'm not sure if it makes much sense, here's to hoping. enjoy.

“for your UCLA Bruins, number 21, Jessie Fleming!”

Jessie steps forward and smiles, waving to the flood of Bruins fans in the stands cheering them on. You clap with a scowl on your face, watching as the girls in the stands ogle and fawn over her. You’re admittedly jealous of her for reasons unbeknownst to you, but seeing the 5’5’ Canadian made your blood boil.

She was good on the football pitch and was smart to go along with it. Jessie had it all. Being called up for most of her time in school and playing for her national team made her well-known in the soccer world from the moment she was here in America.

She was ferocious on the grass, a fearless midfielder who put everything out there.

The game was a close one, tied at the half 2-2. There were lots of contact, tackles, and battles that made it clear to anyone watching that there was tension between you and Jessie. One always found the other; if one had the ball, the other wanted it.

You had possession, running towards goal. There was a flash of blue and you were on the ground yelling in pain, hands clutching at your ankle. There was a loud pop and your ankle began to swell. The trainers came over and were hauling you off on a stretcher almost immediately, the ref showing Jessie a yellow for the unsafe tackle. It wasn’t a red card because really you fell a little weird and her studs were nowhere near your ankle.

She looked genuinely sorry, taking your hand in hers as you were stretchered off. You were in too much pain to care, shoving her hand out of yours and your teammates pulling her away from you.

A broken ankle was what they said. It was a clean break but you needed surgery and that meant no more soccer for the season.

Just great.

They put you in a wheelchair before you head to the hospital, your parents are already at the stadium to take you. You hear the final whistle blow and your teammate rolls you in, the girls all feeling sad when you tell them the news. There’s a little Bruins blue in the sea of Trojans in front of you and there’s a Canadian standing there digging her cleat into the grass, wanting to apologize.

Megan and Kasey stand beside you just in case things get a little heated. Jessie steps forward and looks more sorry for you when she sees the bandages and you in a wheelchair.

“Is it broken?” she asks genuinely, looking at your leg and then at you.

“No thanks to you,” you snide, rolling your eyes at her. “What do you want now, Fleming?”

“I wanted to apologize, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she says sincerely but you’re too bitter to hear her take ownership of her actions.

“You knew what you were doing, Fleming. You’ve always been out to get me our entire college career and now in our final year you finally get what you want!”

You don’t know the tears were starting until they did, pouring down your face hot and fast. She looked a little mortified and pale, backing away and saying she was sorry over and over before a sea of Bruins pulled her away to celebrate their win.

The whole car ride to the hospital you spent weeping, thinking about how you’re not going to be able to play your senior year out like you had hoped. But more so of the look of pure horror on Jessie’s face when you accused her of hating you so much that she would purposely hurt you.

She looked on the verge of tears. Like hurting you scared her.  

You scared her.

||

“The break is clean, but rehab will take a while if you’re not careful,” said Dr. Jeff, the attending podiatrist.

“How long?”

“You’re looking at 14 to 16 weeks, kiddo. Two years if you’re stubborn like most of my patients are.”

“16 weeks sounds great.”

“Smart kid you got here,” the doctor tells your parents with a smile, “I’ll schedule you in for surgery today, you should be out of here by the end of the week.”

The doctor leaves and your mother begins to fuss, propping up pillows and getting your nurse to bring you more jello. Your father, on the other hand, has a look of all-knowing on his face.

“I’m sorry Dad,” you begin, head hanging low the moment your mother leaves the room.

“Don’t be sorry, peanut. These things happen. Better now than when you’re on a professional team, yeah?”

“She didn’t really make me break my ankle did she?” you ask, looking up at your dad who was rubbing your back as the tears filled your eyes again.

“It was the perfect tackle, kiddo. You just fell a little funny is all.”

“She looked so horrified when I said she did it on purpose,” you sob, leaning into your father’s stomach. He held you tight and cradled your head, your heart hurting more than your broken ankle, the face Jessie made when the words left your mouth etched behind your eyelids.

||

There are plenty of flowers in your room the moment you wake from surgery. Lots of cards and get well soon balloons hung from the ceiling. You were still groggy when your teammates visited, Megan was sure to bring lots of Sharpies to sign your cast with, all the girls leaving a nice note for you on it.

There was an hour left for visitations and your parents just left to wash up at home. You were mindlessly scrolling through the terrible TV channel selections while finishing your 5th Jello cup when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you yell, thinking it was a nurse coming to check your vitals again. What you didn’t expect was to see a brunette Canadian poking her head through the door.

“Hi,” she said sheepishly, standing by the door unsure if you really would want her to come in.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as kindly as possible, eyes flickering towards the clock above the door, “it’s late, why aren’t you back at school?”

“Spring Break, my parents are down from Canada so I asked to see you before we drove back,” she says quietly, stepping in a little more. “Can I come in?”

You nod, unsure if your mouth would be polite enough. Anger still seethed in your bones but the look of sheer horror on her face was still fresh in your mind.

“How bad was it?” she begins, still standing near the now-closed door.

“Clean break, should take 16 weeks if I’m careful.”

“That’s good. The doctors here are great.”

“They are quite convincing, they know how to get a patient to stay on their medical plan.”

“Did you get Dr. Jeff?”

“He accused me of being stubborn.”

Jessie laughs and you smile, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s an adorable sound and her face of laughter replaces the one of fear you had burned into your mind.

“I’m really sorry for all this,” she begins but you cut her off.

“It wasn’t your fault, my dad said it was a clean tackle. I just fell funny.”

You looked up at her and saw the relief on her face and she stepped forward, taking your hand in hers. You took a deep breath and reciprocated her ownership of her mistakes, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders the moment you looked her in the eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said the other day Jessie, that was not fair to you.”

“Heat of the moment love, don’t worry about it.”

Your heart clenches hard when the pet name slips out of her lips and you smile, hoping she didn’t see your eyes dilate and feel your skin warm up. She nods and bids goodbye just as her phone rings which tells you her parents are waiting outside.

You sit there giddy and a little starstruck as she disappears out of view. Your hand is warm from her touch and you can still feel her hand holding yours. You thump your head back and curse loudly, before grabbing your leg in pain temporarily forgetting that you were actually hurt.

You giggle and bite your lip, shaking your head when your phone dings.

Maybe: Jessie Fleming.

“You look cute when you’re flustered.”

You clap a hand to your mouth and smile, face heating up with a dark blush.

“You did this, you better fix it.”

“I think we can make that happen, love.”

You don’t think you slept much that night, texting till the sun came up. Your parents came in to check on you in the morning and found you with your phone still on call with Jessie but you two were asleep. You woke up to your doctors talking to your parents and discussing your rehab plan. There was another text from Jessie, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’re also very cute when you’re sleeping.”

Over the next few weeks, you two talked constantly. Jessie kept you company when you were bored at rehab and you kept her company while she was training on her own. You called her every night before bed, giggling and laughing well into the night most nights.

“How is rehab coming along?” Jessie asked as you were lying back on the examination table to relax your ankle. She was in her bed, looking as stunning as you had been denying yourself the chance to admit.

“Good, looks like I can put pressure on it by next week if Tiff lets me,” you say, side-eyeing your trainer Tiffany who was doing cupping on another teammate’s back.  

“Girl, I will hold your papers hostage, don’t test me,” Tiffany jokes, waving the lit fire stick at you.

“Yes ma’am I’ll be super-duper extra careful!” you answer with a salute, making Jessie laugh so loud it rings through the room. Most of your teammates know the thing you’ve got going with her and think it’s cute.

All but one.  

Megan.

She stood at the door listening to you ramble on about Jessie this and Jessie that, her blood boiling at the thought of you being buddy-buddy with the girl she believed to be the one who hurt you.

Megan was a freshman who was from Florida. She was a great pick from her high school team, and the best defender on the East Coast. She made the team here at USC and to say the least, she fit right in.

There was homogeny that wasn’t there before she joined and the linkup between you and her helped you take her under your wing. She looked up to you and was so ecstatic to play with you after watching you on TV.

She felt that Jessie took away her only chance to play with you before you graduated.

Jessie needed to pay.

“Hey, weird question,” Jessie starts, one night while you two were tucked in bed and on the phone with each other.

“Yeah?” you ask, turning over onto your side. Jessie looked a little concerned but you shrugged it off, the girl was known to constantly look worried.

“Someone sent me this photo but it’s from an unknown number, I thought it was weird.”

Sent.

You looked at it in shock.

It was you. Kissing a girl on the basketball team.

“Jess this isn’t me.”

“I’m not blind you know, that’s you.”

“Jessie, I swear this was doctored! I’ve never talked to this girl, let alone fucking kissed her!”

“Then why did the fucking photo come with a text that said, “She’s not who you think she is,”?”

“I don’t know! No one else but the girls know about you and me! I promise Jessie please!”

“I need some time to think. Leave me alone.”

She hangs up.

The tears fill your eyes as you stare at this photo. You don’t even think you’ve crossed paths with this girl, having not been the biggest fan of basketball. But your face was clearly there and hers was too. Her lips were on yours and you looked like you were enjoying yourself.

You think and you think hard. You didn’t go to any parties lately with your leg and you haven’t been to any games of theirs. You stared at the photo for hours, wracking your brain for some kind of explanation.

An explanation as to why Jessie looked so hurt at the thought of you with someone else.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ bad liar, a. iosivas. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: midterm season at princeton is no joke. despite your commitment to academic success, your friends convince you to take just one night off to go out for halloween. andrei is a nice perk too.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: andrei fic bc that's my baby boy. i needed more andrei fics so i decided to make my own lmao. this will have at least one other part, part two here.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: suggestive, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. friends to lovers, andrei is a simp 🫵🏾, language, sexual references & innuendos, irresponsible decision making, college setting, presumably underaged drinking.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: andrei iosivas x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.4k.

Your eyes scanned the dense text of your biology book, your highlighter poised and ready to strike. You sat at your desk, the room's soft light reflecting off your round glasses, casting an orange halo on the pages in front of you. Your braids were pulled back into a tight bun, a few loose strands escaping to frame your focused expression. The only sound was the steady tick of the clock on the wall, marking the seconds that brought you closer to the dreaded physics midterm exam. Your mind was a mess of formulas and principles, your thoughts racing to keep up with the material you needed to commit to memory.

The door to your dorm room swung open, and in barged a flurry of energy—Kaia, your best friend, and fellow study buddy—her silk-pressed hair bouncing with every step.

"Girl, I know you're not still stuck on that same page," Kaia teased, tossing her bag onto the chair. Her voice had the melodic lilt of her Brooklyn upbringing, a stark contrast to the seriousness etched on your face. "You're gonna wear a hole in that book if you don't give it a rest."

You sighed and set the highlighter down, rubbing your eyes. "I can't help it. This stuff just won't stick."

"Well, maybe a little break would help," Kaia suggested, plopping down on the bed. She pulled out her phone and opened TikTok, the app's loud music completely cutting any remaining focus you might have had. 

"Look at this one," she giggled, flipping the screen towards you as you simply looked at your best friend with a blank expression. "Fix your face, I'm trying to help you."

The group chat on Kaia's phone began to blow up with messages. It was your friends Andrei, Malik, and Javi, asking if they could crash the study session. You groaned internally, knowing that once they arrived, studying would take a complete backseat to their usual shenanigans. But you couldn't ignore the twinge of relief you felt at the thought of a distraction. "They want to come over," Kaia announced, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Tell them no," you responded, turning your attention to your phone that lay face down on your desk. You knew your friends' intentions were not to help you study, but you couldn't hide the smile that played at the corners of your mouth.

Kaia only smirked, sending a text into the group chat. "Nah, let's hear them out. Call Andrei."

You rolled your eyes as you turned to face your best friend once again. "Why do I have to call him?" You protested, knowing full well that Kaia had an ulterior motive.

"Because..." Kaia hummed, her eyes glinting with mischief, "You know he'll answer for you." She nudged you playfully. "Let's be real, dude’s in love with you. He'll pick up on the first ring."

You playfully slapped Kaia's leg. "Shut up, Kaia," you said, your cheeks suddenly hot with embarrassment. 

Kaia simply rolled her eyes muttering, "Girl, just call him." With a dramatic sigh, you picked up your phone and dialed Andrei's number. Sure enough, he picked up on the first ring.

"Yo, what's good?" Andrei's voice boomed through the phone speaker, sounding way too cheerful for someone who should be studying for midterms.

You couldn't help but laugh. "We're trying to study for our Physics exam," you said, glancing at Kaia who was now lying on her front atop the bed. "What are you doing?"

Andrei's voice was filled with feigned innocence. "Just chilling, missing my favorite girls. Why are you guys still at it this late?"

You shot a look at Kaia, who was grinning ear to ear. "Well, some of us actually have to work for our grades," you quipped, "Not all of us can be student-athletes."

Andrei's sarcastic laugh echoed through the phone. "Ouch, that's low, bruh," he said, but the good-natured teasing was a familiar dance between the two of you.

Malik's voice interrupted, his deep chuckle audible in the background. "Why don't you just let us come over and bring some good vibes to this sad-ass study party?"

You rolled your eyes. "First of all, it’s not a party. Second, y'all are everything but good vibes. Why do you wanna come over so bad?" you challenged, a hint of curiosity in your voice despite your protests.

Malik's voice grew loud and dramatic. "I'm dying over here, bro. Andrei got no snacks, Javi got no weed, and I'm just here, starving and sober. We just need a little love from our favorite pre-med."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Who said I have snacks or weed?" you shot back. "Javi and Andrei are athletes who shouldn't be smoking anyway. Plus, I need my study space."

But the boys were persistent. Andrei's voice grew more persuasive. "Come on, dude. We're bored over here. You always have food."

You sighed, glancing at the well-stocked snack shelf. "Fine," you relented, "But only if you bring over something to replace what you're going to eat. And y'all can share one blunt, okay?"

The line went silent for a moment as the boys deliberated the terms before Andrei's voice broke through, "Deal, we're on our way." The call ended, and the room filled with the sound of Kaia's laughter. "You know you love the attention," she teased.

You couldn't argue, you did enjoy their company. The stress of your MCAT and midterms had been suffocating you, and a night of distraction sounded heavenly. You leaned back in your chair and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine, but we're going back to studying after this," you warned.

Kaia just winked. "We'll see."

Nearly 30 minutes later, just as the girls began to wonder where the boys were, the door to the dorm burst open, and in came Andrei, Malik, and Javi, a whirlwind of testosterone and laughter. They barged in, tossing their jackets and shoes onto the floor, and immediately made a beeline for the snacks. You sighed, watching them dig through your stash without as much as a greeting or acknowledgment of either one of you.

"Looks like they're not going anywhere for a while," Kaia murmured, her eyes on the chaos unfolding in front of you.

You couldn't help but laugh. "I guess not," you said, shaking your head as Malik pulled out a bag of chips. You leaned back in your chair, watching as your friends raided your snacks like a pack of hungry wolves. They had barely taken a breath before Andrei looked up at you with his round brown eyes, holding out a takeout box of fortune cookies from the Chinese restaurant across the street. "Thought you could use this," he said, his voice hopeful.

Your stomach rumbled in response, and you took the box gratefully, setting it on your desk. "Thanks," you murmured, popping open the lid to reveal a handful of the cookies. The scent of various snacks and the sound of popped soda tags filled the room. Suddenly the thought of studying was less appealing than it had been a few minutes ago.

Kaia sat up, your eyes lighting up. "You guys are the best," she said, snatching a bag of M&Ms from Malik’s Walmart bag. "But seriously, girl, take a break. You're gonna burn out."

You knew Kaia was right. You had been pushing yourself to the brink for weeks now, and maybe a little break was exactly what you needed. "Okay," you said with a sigh, "But just for a little bit. We still have that exam tomorrow."

The boys nodded, though their eyes remained glued to the TV that had been turned on without your permission. "Don't worry, we got you," Malik said, plopping down on the floor with his bag of chips.

"If you get crumbs on my carpet, Malik, I swear to god I'll end up on the news for your death," you warned, but the smirk on your face betrayed your true feelings. You couldn't stay mad at them for long. They were your chosen family here at Princeton, the ones who knew you inside out, who had seen you at your best and your worst, and who had your back through every exam and heartache.

As the group settled in, the TV's volume grew louder, and the energy in the room shifted from one of studious tension to easy conversation. You found yourself leaning back into your bed, a mouthful of sushi balanced on a chopstick, listening to Malik's latest conspiracy rant with a mix of amusement and admiration. Despite your initial protests, the break was just what you needed. Andrei sat beside you on the bed, his knee brushing against yours as he scrolled through his phone, occasionally chiming in with a joke that made you laugh. The warmth from his leg was oddly comforting, and you found yourself not minding his presence as much as you'd feigned earlier.

The conversation grew livelier as they discussed their upcoming Halloween plans. You had been contemplating skipping the festivities to focus on MCAT prep, but the enthusiasm of your friends was contagious. "Come on, dude," Kaia pleaded, her voice mirroring the exaggerated pout on her face, "It's our last fall together, you can't just study the whole semester." You sighed, you knew Kaia was right considering Javi was a year ahead of the rest of you and would be off to grad school this time next year.

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth twitching. "Fine," you conceded, "But I'm not going all out with costumes or anything."

Malik groaned obnoxiously, gaining a glare from you who reached over to pop him in the head. "Ow," he complained, "Why you gotta be like that? Halloween is the best night of the year."

"Because it's a distraction," you said, your eyes returning to your notes. "I need to focus on the MCAT."

"Dude, you're not going to learn anything if you don't take breaks," Andrei said, his voice gentle but firm. "Besides, it's Halloween. Live a little."

You sighed, knowing he had a point. You looked around at your friends, all of you in various states of relaxation and indulgence, and felt a pang of longing for the days when you could let loose like that. "Okay, okay," you said, holding up your hands in surrender. "But we're not staying out late."

"Pinky promise?" Andrei asked, his grin wide and mischievous.

You rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips. "Pinky promise," you said, looping your pinky with his. Pinky promises in your friend group were serious business, obligations that could not be broken without severe repercussions. The warmth of his touch lingered as the two of you broke the promise, and you couldn't help the flutter of excitement in your stomach.

As the night grew darker outside, the group's energy grew more intense. The laughter grew louder, the music got bolder, and the jokes edgier. You found yourself getting lost in the moment, your worries about the MCAT and school momentarily forgotten. They decided on their costumes for the coming night, a group theme of Toy Story characters. Kaia proudly announced she would be a slutty Jessie, urging you to join in as a slutty Barbie from the second movie. Malik muttered that it wouldn't be too difficult under his breath, gaining another smack to the head from both girls this time.

The night of Halloween arrived, and the anticipation was palpable. Your dorm room was a chaotic mess of makeup and costume pieces as the trio of girls got ready. Kaia, ever the fashionista, had gone all out with a red-sequined corset, a cowboy hat, and thigh-high boots for her Jessie costume, while Faith, Javi's girlfriend, had chosen a Mrs. Potato Head look that perfectly complemented Javi's Mr. Potato Head ensemble. You, true to your promise, planned on wearing a blue catsuit with 80s leg warmers. You reluctantly accepted the "stripper heels" Faith brought over from her closet, reminding herself that it was just for one night.

As the three of you applied your makeup, the conversation was a mix of nervous laughter and playful banter about your costumes. "You're gonna break necks in those heels," Faith said, admiring your bare legs underneath the oversized Princeton shirt from freshman orientation. Kaia giggled, "And Andrei's gonna lose his mind when he sees you."

You playfully rolled your eyes, but the mention of Andrei had your heart beating faster. You had always felt a connection with him but never wanted to admit it. You had been friends for so long, that you didn't want to mess with your dynamic. Plus, you had your eyes on going to medical school, and dating was the last thing on your mind. But lately, you had caught yourself staring at his arms when he was brushing his dark hair back. His smile when he attempted to tell a joke. His big brown eyes thinking when he was trying to catch up to a reference.

The door to your dorm burst open, and the boys stumbled in, their laughter filling the room. Andrei was dressed as Buzz Lightyear, his tattoo sleeve on full display in a departure from his typical hoodies and sweatshirts. "Who's surprised that she's not ready yet?" He teased, turning his head dramatically from side to side as your friends kept silent.

You rolled your eyes as you pulled your braids into a high ponytail. "I'm almost done," you called out, your cheeks flushing slightly. You could feel the heat of Andrei's gaze on you, and you wondered if he could sense your nerves. "Give me a second to finish my makeup."

"Fuck that," Malik announced, approaching you with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him come closer, screaming in shock at his strength when he abruptly picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

"You're not getting out of this." 

True to his word, he caught the pieces of your costume tossed to him by an amused Kaia, carrying you to your bathroom before setting you down on the floor, and locking the door to leave you to change.

You slipped into the costume, your skin prickling with excitement. You looked yourself over in the mirror. The blue catsuit hugged your curves, the legwarmers adding a nostalgic flair to the look. Your makeup was simple but effective: bold winged eyeliner and a touch of blush on the cheeks, giving you the innocent yet seductive vibe of an 80s workout video instructor. You stepped out of the bathroom to the sound of whistles and applause from your friends. 

"You guys are pigs," you said with a laugh, your cheeks burning as you took in their appreciative looks.

Andrei's gaze lingered on you longer than the others, his eyes traveling over your body in a way that made you feel both self-conscious and desired. "Pick your jaw up off the floor, Iosivas," Kaia whispered harshly, gaining a laugh from you and Faith. 

Andrei's cheeks turned red, and he stumbled over his words, "You just... you look... good."

The two other girls exchanged glances, the air thickening with the unspoken tension between the two. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at his reaction. "Thanks, Andrei," you said, your voice softer than you had intended.

Snapping out of his daze, Andrei reached for one of the shot glasses Javi had filled with a questionable brand of tequila. He handed it to you with a sheepish smile. "No regrets," he said, raising his own glass. You took the shot into your hand as Javi spoke over the music, "Pa'rriba pa'bajo pa'l centro y pa dentro!", the group threw your shots back in a cheer. You held Andrei's gaze as the fiery liquid burned down your throat. The warmth of both the cheap alcohol and his heated eye contact spread through your body, loosening your nerves.

As you all left the dorm and made your way through the crowded streets of Princeton, the cool October air hit you with a chilly breeze. You shivered, but the warmth from the drinks you had been passing around kept you from feeling too cold. The town was alive with the energy of the night, students in various stages of inebriation stumbling from party to party, costumes ranging from the clever to the downright absurd.

The group decided to hit up your first club, the bass pounding from the speakers spilling onto the sidewalk and beckoning you like a siren's call. Kaia, ever the social butterfly, recognized the bouncer with a bounce in her step. Adjusting her corset, she floated over, whispering something in his ear that had him grinning like he'd just won the lottery. With a wink, she turned back to the group and gestured for you to follow her in. You felt a twinge of envy at Kaia's ease with men but brushed it aside as you were ushered into the pulsating heart of the party.

"How the fuck did you get us through that long ass line?" Malik shouted over the music as the group entered the club. The lights strobed wildly, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across your costumes. "I sucked his dick once like a year ago," Kaia responded simply, smiling sweetly at the bouncer as she sailed past. You couldn't help but laugh at your friend's audacity, the sound lost in the boom of the music.

Once inside, the group spread out a bit, each getting drinks and mingling with the sea of costumed partygoers. You found yourself drawn back to Andrei, his Buzz Lightyear costume making him stand out in the sea of prisoners and bananas. As the night went on, the drinks flowed, and the dancing grew more energetic. Andrei's hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you through the throng of bodies, and you didn't protest. The chemistry between you was palpable, a current that seemed to pulse in time with the bass of the music.

The friends danced inside the club for all of 45 minutes before Malik announced it was dead, and demanded you move to another club. You all agreed, eager for a change of scene and hoping the next place would be livelier. As you stepped into the cool night, the sound of your laughter and the throb of distant music filled the air. You felt a mix of excitement and exhaustion, but the alcohol made it easier to ignore the latter. Andrei wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you navigated the crowded street. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned into him, feeling his strong presence against you.

The second club was a different world. The line was around the block, and the bass was so intense it made the sidewalk vibrate. You all groaned in your tipsy impatience, settling in a small circle at the back of the line behind the group in front of them.

"I can feel my common sense coming back to me," Javi complained, shooting a glare at Malik who demanded you leave the first club in the first place. "Why did we leave the last place?"

Malik shrugged, his eyes glazed over. "Because I said it was dead," he shouted back, his words losing their earlier slur.

"Luckily for you," Faith began with a smirk, "I stole this from your fridge." She lurched forward and pulled out a small, unopened bottle of Pink Whitney from her purse, a pale pink concoction that smelled faintly of sweet tea and vodka. "You're a lifesaver," Kaia said, snatching it from her hand. The others cheered as Faith playfully princess waved with a wide smile.

A twinge of annoyance flashed across your face as you watched your friends pass around your stolen Pink Whitney. "You guys are the worst," you called out over the thumping bass that echoed down the street, though the amusement in your voice was clear. "Stealing my shit like I didn't pay for it with my hard-earned work-study money."

Andrei leaned in close to whisper in your ear, a muscular arm resting on your shoulder to pull your body closer to his. His body heat sent a shiver down your spine. "But we're worth it, right?" He winked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You couldn't help but laugh shyly, nodding in agreement as you grabbed the bottle from Kaia for a quick swing. The sweetness of the drink mixed with the faint hint of vodka coated your tongue, the alcohol burning a pleasant path down your throat. The music grew louder as you approached the entrance, and you felt the vibrations through the soles of your heels.

When you finally made it inside, the club was packed. The air was hot and sticky with sweat and perfume, the lights strobing in a dizzying array of colors that painted the Princeton students in a sea of blue. Andrei didn't stray far from your side as you pushed your way through the crowd, his hand a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. You found a small space large enough for the six of you, the music so loud that conversation was almost impossible.

The beat dropped and the crowd went wild. Andrei leaned down, his mouth close to your ear. "You wanna dance?" He shouted, his breath warm against your neck. You nodded, a thrill racing through you as his hand slid around your waist, pulling you into the rhythm of the music. You moved together, your bodies syncing in a way that felt more intimate than any dance you'd shared before. His hands roamed over your hips, the fabric of his costume sticking to your skin as you danced. You felt a heat building in your chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the packed room or the cheap booze.

As the night went on, the lines between friendship and desire grew blurrier. Andrei's touches grew bolder, and you found yourself turning around to face him, your bodies pressed together as you danced. His hands slid down your back, resting on the curve of your ass, and you leaned into his touch, your heart racing. The music washed over you, the bass vibrating in your chests as your eyes locked. The chemistry was undeniable, a dance of push and pull that neither could ignore.

Kaia and Malik were already lost in their own worlds, dancing wildly with strangers, leaving you, Andrei, Javi, and Faith in your little bubbles. The air was electric with unspoken tension as Andrei leaned down to whisper innocent conversation in your ear, his breath hot against your neck as his words contrasted the tension building between your bodies. You couldn't help but close your eyes, savoring the moment. Javi and Faith were too busy making out against the wall to pay you any mind.

Suddenly, the music switched to a slow jam, and Andrei took the opportunity to pull you closer. His hands slid down to finally cup your ass, and you gasped softly. The alcohol had loosened your inhibitions, but you were still surprised by his boldness. Looking into his eyes, you saw a mix of excitement and nerves, mirroring your own feelings. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "I've wanted to do this all night," he murmured, and before you could respond, he captured your mouth in a kiss that was anything but innocent.

The kiss was deep and hungry, leaving your knees weak. Your hands found his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart as you melted into him. The crowd around you faded away, and it was just the two of you, lost in the moment. Andrei's hands roamed up your body, pulling you closer, his tongue teasing yours as you danced in a grind that was more intimate than any tango. You felt his erection pressing into you, and you couldn't help but grind back, your body responding to his touch.

The music shifted again, this time to a fast-paced rap song, snapping you out of your trance. You broke apart, both panting slightly and shared a knowing smile. The group gathered around you, Javi and Faith looking surprised at your sudden closeness. "Girl, what the fuck? When did this happen?" Faith yelled over the music, her voice playfully accusatory. You hid your face in your hands, your cheeks burning, while Andrei chuckled and gave a nonchalant shrug.

Malik, seemingly unfazed by his best friend's bold move, shouted over the music, "Y'all need to get a fucking room!" His words were met with a round of laughter and cheers from the group, effectively diffusing the tension. You danced together, the night's excitement fueling your moves. The club's strobe lights painted your sweaty bodies in a chaotic dance of color as you lost yourselves in the music and the moment.

"We're gonna go grab more shots," you announced to the group, reaching for Andrei's hand as you dragged him away to the bar. The thrill of the kiss still lingered between you. The bar was packed, but Andrei's height allowed him to navigate the crowd with ease. He moved to stand behind you, his hands on your hips, his body pressing into your backside as you waited for the bartender's attention. You leaned back into him, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the coldness of the bar top.

The bartender finally looked up, a coy smile playing on your lips as she took your order. Andrei leaned down to press light kisses to the side of your neck, a hand moving your ponytail to rest on your shoulder as the other squeezed at your waist. "You know I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time," he murmured, his breath hot and sweet with the scent of alcohol. Your heart skipped a beat, his admission sending a jolt of excitement through your body. You turned in his arms to look at him, your eyes searching his, and you felt your resolve to keep things platonic crumbling like a sandcastle against the tide of his desire.

"I know!" You giggled as your hands snaked from his chest to wrap around his neck. "I didn't think you'd ever do something about it though."

Andrei laughed with a roll of his eyes. "If you knew, why didn't you just tell me?" He leaned in closer, his mouth a whisper away from yours. With your sky-high heels, you were nearly eye level with the 6'4" athlete, though he still managed to hold a bit of height over you.

"I'm not chasing after a man, Andrei," you said, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned against the sticky bar. "But if you want to keep kissing me like that, who am I to stop you?" The bartender slammed down two shots of tequila in front of you, snapping you out of your heated conversation. You both downed the shots, the burn of the alcohol mixing with the desire simmering in your chests.

Andrei leaned in, his voice low and gruff with need. "I don't just want to kiss you." His hand slid up your thigh, reaching and finding the fat of your ass. You gasped, your eyes wide with surprise and lust. "Andrei," you scolded him, though your body was already begging for more.

"Later," he promised, pressing a kiss to your parted lips. "I'll take you out on a proper date. Just the two of us."

Your friends were scattered across the dance floor, lost in their own drunken revelry. Andrei's hand remained firmly on your ass, his thumb making small circles that had your core pulsing in time with the music. The tension between you was like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

"We should get back to the others," you murmured, though your body was screaming for more of Andrei's touch. Reluctantly, you broke apart and returned to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of costumed bodies to rejoin Kaia and Malik. Javi and Faith were nowhere to be seen, likely having disappeared into one of the darkened corners for a more intimate rendezvous.

Malik's eyes were glazed over, his body swaying slightly as he attempted to keep up with the beat. Kaia was laughing, a drink in hand, watching him with a mix of amusement and concern.

"I think we should get him home before he passes out," Kaia shouted over the music, her hand on Malik's shoulder to steady him.

You nodded, your eyes flicking to Andrei. "I'll go tell Javi and Faith." You pushed through the crowd, finding the couple in a dimly lit corner, wrapped in a passionate embrace. Tapping them on the shoulder, you yelled over the music, "Guys, we're heading back to the dorm!"

Javi looked over, his eyes glazed with lust, and nodded. Faith, slightly more coherent, protested, "But we just got here!"

"Babygirl," you laughed, reaching for Faith's hand to drag her back to the group, her boyfriend following like a man possessed. "It's 1 in the morning, we've been here since 10."

Faith pouted but allowed herself to be led away from the darkened corner. "Fine, but you guys are boring," she whined, stumbling slightly in her high heels.

"We're not boring," Andrei shot back, a grin spreading across his face as he took your hand. "We're just responsible."

You couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. The group stumbled out of the club, the cool October air a welcome relief from the stifling heat inside. You laughed and talked over each other as you made your way back to the dorm, the sidewalks still packed with costumed partygoers.

"My feet hurt," Faith complained, and without missing a beat, Javi swooped her into his arms, her giggles piercing the night air. Kaia and Malik stumbled alongside you, their laughter infectious. Andrei held onto your hand tightly, leading you through the maze of costumed students.

The walk to the dorm was a blur of laughter and teasing, with Andrei occasionally stopping to steal a kiss. You felt alive in a way you hadn't in weeks. The stress of your MCATs and exams seemed to evaporate under the influence of the alcohol and Andrei's touch. When you reached the dorm, Malik declared that he was taking the first shower, much to the protest of the others and the confusion on your face.

"Malik, you don't have clothes here!" You called out, trying to hide the amusement in your voice as you fumbled with your keys.

"That's what you think," Malik shot back, a knowing grin playing on his lips as he pushed open the door to your dorm. The room was a mess of discarded shot glasses and open makeup products. "I got clothes stashed everywhere," he said, winking at you before stumbling off to a corner of the room. Opening a drawer you never used, he produced a pile of neatly folded sweats. "Ta-da!"

Kaia and Andrei couldn't help but laugh at your stunned expression. "What did you expect?" Kaia teased, leaning against the wall. "You're the mom of the group, we all have clothes stashed around here."

Malik disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower echoing through the room. You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips, and turned to Andrei. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," you said, your voice low enough that only he could hear. "You're all a bunch of freeloaders."

Andrei chuckled, his gaze dropping to your cleavage. "Only because you make it so easy to want to stay." He leaned in closer, his hand resting on the small of your back, and whispered, "I've had clothes here since freshman year."

You rolled your eyes playfully and turned to Kaia. "You too?"

"What, you didn't know?" Kaia smirked, holding up a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. "I practically live here when I don't feel like walking back to my own dorm."

You couldn't help but laugh, "You live down the hall, stupid." You playfully shoved Kaia, who stumbled into Andrei's arms, almost knocking him over. You all shared a laugh, the alcohol and exhaustion making you sloppier than usual.

"Alright, the shower's free," Malik announced, emerging from the bathroom with a trail of steam following him. You nodded towards Kaia, who disappeared into the bathroom next. Andrei took the opportunity to pull you closer, his hands running up and down your arms.

"So, about that date," he began, his voice thick with want. "I'm serious."

Your heart skipped a beat, the thrill of his words sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. "Yeah?" you replied, trying to play it cool despite the heat building in your core.

Andrei nodded, his expression earnest. "Yeah, I want to take you out. Just the two of us. No studying, no group hangs. Just us."

Your stomach flipped at his words. The idea of a date with Andrei was both thrilling and terrifying. "Okay," you whispered, your eyes dropping to his lips. Before you could say anything else, Kaia stumbled out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a shower cap, looking for her stashed clothes.

"Alright, I'm gonna crash," Malik said, already halfway to the floor. He laid down, using his jacket as a makeshift pillow, and was out cold in seconds. It was then that both you and Andrei realized that Javi and Faith were dead asleep, tangled up together at the foot of the bed.

Andrei looked down at you, his eyes dark with want. "I guess it's just us now," he murmured, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, the heat from his palm seeping into your skin.

Kaia emerged from the bathroom, now dressed in a pair of your oversized sweatpants and a hoodie. "Looks like love is in the air," she sang, waving her phone around as she snapped photos of the two of you. "It's about damn time." She muttered under her breath as she approached her friends for closer pictures.

"Knock it off," you said, trying to hide your hot cheeks as you gently pushed Kaia's phone away. But the playfulness in your voice betrayed you. Andrei took it as his cue to lean down and kiss you again, this time slower and more deliberate. You felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

Breaking the kiss, you whispered, "We should probably shower before we end up like them." You nodded towards the bed where Faith was now snoring lightly.

Andrei chuckled, his brown eyes flickering with interest. "With me?"

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "No, not with you. But you can use the shower after me."

You slipped away from him and into the bathroom, the sound of the shower turning on echoing through the quiet space. Andrei watched your retreating form before collapsing onto the bed next to the sleeping Javi and Faith, his hand reaching for the TV remote. He flicked through the channels, trying to find something to distract himself from the anticipation of finally having you all to himself.

When you emerged from the steamy bathroom, you found Andrei lying on the bed, observing a baseball game with a bored expression. You couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that your moment of passion had been interrupted by the realization that your friends had basically crashed at your place. But you pushed the feeling aside and whispered to Andrei that he could take the bathroom.

You slipped into a pair of oversized pajamas you had set aside for yourself. The warmth of the fabric was a comforting embrace after the chilly evening out. You looked up to find Andrei leaving the bathroom, a towel slung low on his waist, his bare chest glistening from the shower. Your eyes met and held for a beat too long before you turned away to grab a water bottle from your fridge, giving him some privacy to change into the clothes that he had apparently hidden in your room. The air was thick with unspoken tension as you both tried to ignore the electricity arcing between you.

Kaia and Malik were sprawled out on the floor, snoring in unison. Faith had managed to flip around, her body now perpendicular to Javi's. The sight was comical and heartwarming all at once.

Andrei, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants with the waistband of his briefs peeking out from underneath, sat down on the edge of the bed. His hand brushed against your skin as he reached for the water bottle you had set down. You couldn't help but feel the spark that shot through your body.

You turned to face him, the weight of the moment heavy between you. Andrei's eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. Finding none, he leaned in closer, his hand reaching out to cradle the side of your face. "So pretty," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

The group remained asleep around you, the only sound the occasional snore and the distant bass from the party still raging outside. Your heart pounded in your chest as Andrei's thumb traced the line of your jaw.

"Let's get some sleep," Andrei said, his voice a gentle rumble in the quiet room. "We can talk more in the morning." He stood up and gestured for you to take the bed. "You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor."

You shyly spoke up to protest. "We've literally cuddled a million times before, Andrei. We can share the bed." You slid into the middle, leaving a space for him. He hesitated before joining you, his eyes never leaving yours. You lay side by side, the mattress dipping slightly under your combined weight. The silence grew heavier as your friends' snores grew louder. Your head found Andrei's chest as his arms wrapped around you.

The warmth of his embrace was a comfort you hadn't realized you'd been craving. Your hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. The TV played a late-night sitcom, the laugh track serving as a strange lullaby for your crowded dorm room. Your mind raced urged to race with thoughts of the impending MCAT and the unspoken promise of a date. But as you felt Andrei's chest rise and fall with his even breaths, you couldn't help but let your exhaustion win.

[nightscarab]

haikyu!! headcanons - seijoh main four

slight suggestive themes in matsukawa's

iwaizumi hajime

100% without a doubt, works out to relieve stress. it's an escape from his problems (oikawa) and helps him take out his anger in a healthy way.

his favorite color is definitely red. i don't know why he just seems like a red guy.

literally gets SO pouty when he's surprised with something. it could be a gift or a party and he'll get so pouty. he's so emotional i love him

he loves LOVES when you grab his bicep. it makes him feel so strong and manly and proud it's so cute his face lights up.

contrary to popular opinion, he LOVES physical touch, but only with specific people. he just loves feeling loved.

whatever you cook for him, he'll DEVOUR it. he'll literally eat it up he loves food especially if you're the one who made it.

oikawa tooru

he has major separation anxiety. when he's in argentina you know damn well he's spamming the group chat with messages and calls.

his friends mean everything to him. he'd abandon volleyball for them anyday. he'd never admit it though...

a horrible, terrible liar. cannot lie to save his life, he'll start laughing or smiling. his voice cracks if he tries to drag it on too long.

when he falls in love, he's in LOVE. the gc is spammed with messages about how much he loves his gf and pictures of her followed by long ass paragraphs.

if he ever catches you in his jersey, oh honey... you're never gonna hear the end of it. he'll do a whole photoshoot of you in it, it doesn't matter if you just woke up. he thinks you look stunning and now it's his lockscreen wallpaper.

the SASSIEST man alive. he'll give you so much attitude if he's pissed off. you gotta sit his ass down and tell him to cut it out cause it gets BAD.

matsukawa issei

i don't see him as a smoker honestly. however...he is a big drinker. beer, whiskey, rum and coke, you name it, he'll have it.

super handsy. can't keep him hands off you, he needs to be touching you at all times. whether it be a hand on your hip, waist, thigh, head, or an arm around your shoulder, he's always touching you.

working in a funeral home, he sees a lot of grieving families yk.. he has nightmares that one day he'll be the one grieving you. please hold him tight at night!!

king of midnight snack runs! it's 4am and you're hungry? no problem! let's do a cvs run. oh you want taco bell? it closes soon better hurry!

has the LONGEST eyelashes you've ever seen. it's not even funny how are they so long. he looks great with mascara, he'll even beg you to put it on him so he can show off to oikawa. (he does, in fact, get jealous)

jams out with hanamaki to 2000's white girl songs. i'm talking christina aguilera, britney spears, natasha bedingfield, etc. it's their favorite way to mess with hajime. (he secretly loves it though)

hanamaki takahiro

matsukawa might not be a smoker, but hanamaki totally is. he doesn't smoke often, but when he does he comes back higher than a kite. he only smokes to relieve stress.

our dear boy is unemployed, but he still tries to spoil you as much as he can. you want that swimsuit? you'd look so hot babe of course he's buying it for you.

not a very touchy person, but he tries to make it up to you by spending time with you. he'll stand by you in the kitchen while you're whipping up some coffee for yourself. he sees you on the couch? now you guys are watching a movie together. he just loves being with you.

late night drives with takahiro are to die for. you've never had this much fun in your life. the city lights and the music blasting from the radio lifts you to a high you've never felt before.

uses hot cocoa flavored chapstick. he stocks up during the winter since it's a seasonal flavor (which he thinks is super annoying) but you complimented him on it once and now it's the only one he uses.

on twitter nearly 24/7. he posts his every thought and somehow they go viral. he prides himself on that and comes to you every time his tweet blows up. "look babe! my tweet hit 100k retweets."

[cierraonline]

They’ve been dating for a while pookie I’m sorry

anywaysssss

Did You Miss US?

chapter two: did you miss us?

warning: none

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

XXX

UCONN GAMPEL PAVILION  

University of Connecticut  

Storrs, Connecticut

Okay guys, we’re back…. Did you miss us? ‘Cause we missed you! - Sasha James UCONN's PG

Whistle blows

“Listen up,” Geno Auriemma, the man with the plan—the man who built stars and legends—UCONN’s women’s basketball head coach with nearly 1,000 wins under his belt, announced. “This season, I will not be your head coach—” The older man was interrupted by gasps that filled the room.

Thirty young women stared at him, mouths agape in shock, while his staff stood behind him in support. “Now calm down. I’m not going anywhere, nor am I retiring. This year, your head coach will be one of our own…. Sasha James.” With that introduction, the brown-skinned girl walked into the stadium and stood next to her mentor, essentially a father figure to her.

“Aahh,” all the returning girls jumped up, rushing to Sasha and pulling her into a tight embrace in congratulations.

“That’s my wife!” Paige pointed to her partner with a wide smile, knowing how much this meant to Sasha.

“Okay, get off me,” Sasha laughed as she tried to push away the arms and hands. “Sit down, y’all are embarrassing me,” she added, mainly addressing her best friends. Once everyone returned to their original spots on the bleachers, her expression turned serious. “So, this year we’ll be following my coaching plan for the women’s basketball team, which was approved by the athletic director, David Benedict,” Sasha said, pointing to the white man who raised his hand in greeting, as it was the first time some players had met him. “First on the list is our Europe tour, a team bonding and learning experience.”

“Really!?”

“Shut up!” The girls jumped up in excitement, thrilled at the prospect of traveling abroad for team bonding.

“Now, we have a problem,” Sasha began, watching the players’ faces grow worried. “There are 30 of us, half of whom are red-shirts due to either prior injuries or eligibility situations. A portion of those who aren’t red-shirts don’t get time on the court because skills aren’t being picked up quick enough. With that, we’re just wasting space and resources. At the end of last season, an email was sent out stating that although the season is over, we want you all to be prepared and in top condition. Freshmen, you got the same email after confirming your commitment to the team. So, before we leave for our trip, we’ll be cutting off the dead weight. Today, you’ll be doing multiple drills and rounds, and if we believe you’re performing well, you’ll stay. If not, I’m sorry, but this will be your last day on the team, regardless of scholarship status.”

Internally, the players felt a bit of panic, but overall they believed they were the best—after all, they’d made it this far.

“You will also have to play according to my standards,” Sasha declared, making the tension rise further. “The goal this season is to win like it has been for the past five years that got us to win Big East Conference and the Final Four. I don’t like losing and I won’t start this season. I like no-score games—it brings in publicity, which brings in money for the department and us as players. I need to know I can trust you all to win without relying on our heavy hitters to play a full game with no breaks. Last season, we recycled the same five players. This year will be different. We have five  players planning to enter the draft, and we need to put them in the best position to be seen and recognized.”

“Are you guys scared?” Geno asked from beside Sasha, observing his players’ reactions. “You should be. We’re still falling behind on basic skills that should come naturally to us. We’re not rebounding properly, not making fast plays, and not thinking smart on the court. There’s no more depending on the starting five or your status to save you.”

“Everything will be tested and calculated, and by the end of the day, the staff and I will be left with the best 14 players to continue with the athletic department. That means 16 of you will be ending your college basketball careers today,” Sasha nodded, watching her teammates exchange glances, wondering who would stay and who would be shamefully dismissed. “Let’s start with suicides—15 on each side, meeting in the middle. Let’s go,” she clapped her hands and took a seat on the bleachers.

Giving them a moment to get into position, Geno blew the whistle, and the running began. “Ramirez is lagging behind; her speed hasn’t improved since her freshman year,” Sasha noted to Geno, who nodded in agreement, jotting down the player’s name.

“Ayanna’s speed seems to have improved since her injury,” Chris Dailey commented, pointing at the sophomore.

“Alright!” Geno blew the whistle. “Line up!” The players stood in a straight line as the staff observed them. The goal of this elimination round was to test speed but also endurance—who looked tired and exhausted? This would show who had taken the offseason seriously and who hadn’t.

“Ramirez, your speed hasn’t improved. Anderson, you look tired, and you’ve only ran for 10 minutes. Bennett, your speed is inconsistent. Davis, Geno feels you’re not giving us your best because you’re overconfident, thinking we can’t replace you. Lastly, Jones, Coach Dailey feels your maturity hasn’t shown any growth. I’m sorry, girls, but you’re off the team. Tomorrow, you’ll have a meeting with David to go over the next steps.” 

Sasha moved on to the next drill. “Alright, let’s do dribbling drills. I want a relay race with 12 on each side, from the left side of the court to the right. The winning side is safe from elimination.” Sasha didn’t have time to watch the eliminated players cry over their lost positions. She needed a winning team—budget-friendly, hardworking, and serious about the chance they are given.

“Flores’ handles are sloppy,” Geno shook his head in disapproval as the player lost control of the ball twice before reaching the other side of the court. “Ines is doing better than last season. Keep a close eye on her.”

“Garcia is looking down too much,” Chris Dailey noted.

“What do we think about the freshmen?” Sasha pointed out Kamorea Arnold, who seemed to have a strong grip on the ball.

“With freshmen, we don’t need perfect; we need to see that there is room for improvement and how fast they can implement corrections,” Geno advised, advising for  Sasha to not expect perfection from the freshmen class. “We want people to see that we create stars, but we also nurture growth and progression.”

“Flores, Garcia, Harris, Johnson, and King, you’re dismissed,” Geno announced, prompting one of the girls to sob and plead for another chance. “You’re seniors, but we have yet to see evidence that shows the progress you made since you’ve been in this program for three years.”

“I plan on entering the draft this year!” Harris cried out.

“You shouldn’t have entered the draft when you’ve haven’t been getting much playing time for the past two years and had no playing time in your freshman year,” Sasha said, moving on to the next test. “Freshmen, you’re safe. Please grab your uniforms, practice schedules, and packing lists.”

“Thank you!” they squealed with big smiles, running to where Chris stood at a foldable table.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Sasha continued. “Geno, Chris, David, and I will each choose a player to save.”

“Paige,” Geno nodded at the blonde, who exhaled in relief before running to the table where Chris stood.

“Nika,” David selected the Croatian player.

“Azzi,” Chris smiled at the league’s best shooter next to Sasha.

“Aaliyah,” Sasha chose.

“Thank you,” Aaliyah whispered as she passed by her friend and teammate, heading to Chris for a congratulatory hug.

“Alright, let’s do rounds. I want to see smart plays… choose your teams,” Sasha directed the remaining players, who were more nervous than ever. With a whistle, a game on each side of the court began, and the returning players played harder than ever. Some stood out for the right reasons, while others didn’t.

“Caroline is thinking smarter; she’s stepping into that leadership role we’ve been waiting for her to take,” Geno commented, watching as she quickly passed the ball to another player instead of holding it and risking a blocked shot.

“Amari’s passes are getting faster,” Sasha noted as the player did a no-look pass to her teammate.

“Aubrey’s defense is improving, especially in blocking and holding screens,” Geno added.

“Alright, line up!” Sasha blew her whistle. “Lewis, Mitchell, Nelson, Parker, Rodriguez—thank you for the time you put into this team, but you’re eliminated,” she announced, watching as the remaining players huddled together, sharing tears and congratulations. “The rest of you, let’s start making corrections faster and implementing them. You’ve been here; you know the standards. It shouldn’t take the last round of eliminations for things to start clicking. We need it to click the minute you step onto the court. Got it?”

“Yes,” they answered, nodding.

“Well, go get your stuff. We’ve got a trip to pack for,” Sasha smiled, clapping her hands.

“Don’t ever put us through that again,” Aubrey jokingly pointed at Sasha as she and Amari pproached her.

“I had to try to get rid of you somehow. Isn’t this your fifth year?” Sasha laughed, nudging the girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t get jumped!” Aubrey laughed.

“Go get your stuff before I have Geno kick you out too,” Sasha rolled her eyes, showing off her playfully sassy side.

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