#cutting it close on this one but i have not had the time to write today

[heavyhitterheaux]

Wifey Shiesty (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: After giving her husband a much needed pep talk, we get Wifey's version of mic'd up during the Bengals vs. Broncos game

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @mirrorballgirlie25 and an anon 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The level of excitement that you had when you woke up around eleven in the morning was unmatched as you sat up against the headboard for confirmation.

One of the few days that you didn't have any morning sickness.

It was evident that Joe was already awake seeing as he wasn't lying next to you and could faintly hear the shower running in the bathroom signaling that he was getting ready to head to Paycor to take on the Denver Broncos.

There was a lot riding on this game, but you had done your usual routine with making his favorite foods and giving him pep talks. Joe's bag that he would be carrying when he left was sitting on the bed and you quickly pulled out your stationary set and wrote a small note to stick in there.

You got this, Shiesty.

I love you,

Wifey

You did this before every game whether it was at home or away and Joe kept every single one and had it organized by season.

You would usually also get up early and go into the bathroom and also write notes for him on the mirror so that way he would also wake up and see them.

When you were finished, you closed his bag and was caught off guard by arms wrapping around you and a kiss being placed on your cheek.

“Good morning Mr. Shiesty.” You told him as you turned around to properly hug him.

“Good morning baby girl. No morning sickness? Did my baby actually get to sleep? I didn't hear you get up at all.”

“I actually slept for once so hopefully I'll have energy for the game.” You replied as he then leaned down to kiss you.

Joe let out a deep sigh and you immediately knew what to do.

“Okay, baby. We got this. I know how important this game is and that we want to make the playoffs, but just get through each quarter and take your time. Either way it goes today, I am so fucking proud of you. This has truly been your best season and you keep silencing the people who hate on you every single time. Like breaking records and breaking some of your own too? You were drafted number one for a reason. Now go out there today and show them why. I love you and as promised I will be in your suite cheering you on.”

The smile that broke out on Joe’s face was huge as he leaned down to kiss you once more in response.

“I just… it’s so much pressure on my shoulders. But at the same time it is what it is.”

“Baby, you’re the quarterback if you didn’t realize it until just now.” You joked with him and he let out a small laugh.

“I hadn’t noticed and I love you too. Thank you for the pep talks that you always give me. It may not seem like a big deal, but it is.”

“Of course, my love. Always going to be in your corner rooting for you.”

“And the same goes for you, it’s just in a different way now.” Joe replied as he glanced down at your leg and saw the surgical scars staring back at him as he lightly ran his fingers over them.

He couldn't think about it for too long since it would make him upset, but every day, he woke up grateful that you were still here able to do life with him. He couldn't have imagined what happened if you weren't. Becoming a widow a few months after you get married was something that was constantly running through his thoughts when you had gotten hurt.

The pain was still evident even if you didn't talk about it much, not wanting to make your husband worry. He did enough of that when he thought he would be planning your funeral.

Being pregnant, the only thing that you were able to take for pain was tylenol and some days that just wasn’t cutting it. But the last thing you were about to do was risk the health of your twins.

“Is it bothering you today?”

“So far, so good.”

“Just remember to bring some medicine with you. Don't want you sitting there in pain.”

“I'll put some in my bag, promise.”

“Good, pack some heat packs too just in case.”

“Oh, and I have a little surprise. Ja’Marr actually came up with it so you can thank him for it.”

“And what’s that?” Joe asked as he was starting to get dressed.

“I’m going to be mic’d up during the game for me and Taylor’s podcast so do your best to not give your wife a panic attack or send her into labor because it is way too early.”

Joe threw his head back in laughter because he knew how you would get during the games.

“I’ll try my best, but no promises. I can’t wait to watch it later.”

“But for now, I'll go make you some food while you get ready.”

“No need, baby. I got up early and ate.” Joe told you and in response you made a face at him.

“Baby doll, your morning sickness has been horrible lately. I wanted you to sleep. I have the ability to make myself something to eat and not burn down the kitchen in the process. Give me credit where credit is due.”

“But I ALWAYS make you food on game days when you play at home and sometimes you have dessert and eat me out before you leave. It's our thing!”

“I know, but you can make us something later when we win and I can eat you out later. That can definitely be arranged.”

“Fine, I'm holding you to that.”

“Good, now give me kisses.” Joe told you as he was now sitting down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap.

You gave him a few kisses before kissing the side of his mouth and laying your head on his shoulder.

“You're lucky you just took a shower and need to get ready because I want to bite you so bad right now.”

“AHT AHT! Baby do not start, as much as I want to, I can't rearrange your guts all day.”

“But you can do it all night.” You replied while smirking as you picked your head up to look at him.

“See? This is why you're pregnant now.”

“Don't blame it on me, you had something to do with it too.” You scolded him as he kissed the tip of your nose.

Suddenly Joe’s phone went off and he turned around to grab it and saw it was Ja'Marr calling and quickly answered.

“Stop swapping spit with my sister and let's go.”

“Damn, good morning to you too uno.” Joe replied as he rolled his eyes.

“And how do you even know what I was doing?” Joe asked and even though he couldn't see him, he knew that he was rolling his eyes.

“Joe, don't piss me off before we even get in the locker room on this nice Saturday. Yall can’t keep your hands to yourself for thirty seconds. I'll be at your front door in 15 minutes. Bye.”

After Joe hung up all he did was toss his phone to the side before kissing you once more.

“See you at 4:30?”

“See you at 4:30.”

—

Arriving at Paycor, security quickly escorted you as well as Erin to Joe's suite where you would meet up with Jim and Robin. Robin had already sent a text letting you know that they had just gotten there and the only thing on your mind was food and watching Joe and your baby brother play.

The entire episode of you being mic'd up would be recorded on your phone and you would upload it after the game was over whether the Bengals walked away with a win or not.

Once you had gotten settled and got everything set up how you wanted it, you set your phone to record.

“Hello my Woman Cave listeners. Wifey Shiesty here and you’re in for a little treat today. As you can see, I'm in my husband's suite at the game with my in-laws, and my best friend Erin and you guys are getting my version of mic'd up! I did tell Joe prior to him leaving the house this morning and I told him to do his best not to give me a panic attack, so let's see how this goes.”

First quarter

“Okay, yall have to do better than this if we want a playoff spot. Because what are we even doing right now?”

–

“Did you really just get sacked twice in a row?! O-line protect my husband, please! It is LITERALLY YOUR JOB.”

–

“Uh oh baby brother is making faces. He's getting annoyed. I am too Bam Bam, I am too.”

–

“WHAT!? The first quarter can't be over already. We have literally done nothing.”

–

Second quarter

“Baby! What are….? I gave you a pep talk this morning and this is NOT how this was supposed to go.”

–

“The babies are hungry again. Erin, can you get me more mozzarella sticks? Cheese has been my main food group since I got pregnant.”

–

“AHHH TOUCHDOWN! YEAH TEE! I guess he didn't want his mom cussing him out again. She really let him have it.”

–

“Okay, we got something going, feeling a little better. Oh, are those buffalo wings? I needed those like 6 hours ago. I don't care about the heartburn that I'm about to have after. The babies are getting some spice today. I have tums in my purse.”

–

Third quarter

“And, we're back. The babies were playing kickball with my bladder. I'm definitely going to drink this lemonade though.”

–

“Ehh, okay we're kicking. Fine, that'll get us ten.”

–

“NO! HE CAUGHT IT! NOW IT'S TIED.”

–

“Okay, we still have time. We got this. Can I have a milkshake delivered to the stadium? I want one. Never mind. Joe will get me one on the way home.”

–

“Erin, did you see Joe’s and Ja'marr's outfits today? Like WHO ARE THESE DIVAS? But I picked out Joey's last night. I wanted to bite him before he left, but he told me no.”

–

Fourth quarter

“Tee again with the touchdown!”

–

“Damn it! It's tied again. I literally told Joe NOT to give me a panic attack or make my water break and it's clear and evident that he in fact did not listen.”

–

“Oh! Is he in!? IS HE IN!? My husband is the shit yall. Get it baby! TOUCHDOWN!”

–

“Wait a minute… is he…? Is he doing the griddy? See that's the black wife effect for you. And of course Ja'Marr co-signed it. He got more rhythm when he married me.”

–

“Okay, clock is winding down. We can do this. Not that much longer to go.”

–

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!? Oops, babies don't repeat that. It's tied again!”

–

“Overtime it is. I need to pee again and I'm hungry. These children need to chill out with the food requests.”

–

Overtime

“Okay dad got me nachos. I'm okay now, we're back in business. Shoutout to Paycor. Yall have the good cheese.”

–

“I can't watch anymore and need to close my eyes.”

–

“Well that lasted for a total of thirty seconds.”

–

“OH! OKAY HE’S AT THE TWO! TEE'S AT THE TWO! Yall better not fuck this up.”

–

“HE GOT IT!”

–

“I'm happy we won, but I need to sit here for a minute before I go to the tunnel. Bottom line is put some respect on my husband's name. As of now he is literally the only person in the history of the NFL to have 250 pass yards but 3 pass touchdowns in 8 straight games. So unless you can do that, don't talk to me. And, I rest my case. Now it's time for my milkshake and to hug my husband and baby brother.”

When Joe spotted you in the tunnel, he was all smiles and quickly made his way over to you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Proud of you, babe.” You told him as you reached up to pinch his cheek.

“Your pep talk definitely helped this morning. Just took us a minute to find our rhythm.” Joe replied as he started to play with the ends of your hair, something that he did more often than not.

“Speaking of rhythm, that griddy was too clean. You should have heard me and Erin yelling.” You told him and he couldn't help but to laugh.

“It's the black wife effect. Can't be around you and your family all the time and walk away with nothing.” He casually said as he shrugged and you busted out laughing.

“And just wait until you hear my mic'd up episode.”

“Please tell me you're kept it somewhat appropriate. I never know with you.”

“Well, babe, I didn't say anything about me turning you every way but loose once we leave here if that's what you mean.” You sweetly said while batting your eyelashes at him.

“I… I guess I'll take it then.”

“BIG SIS!” You heard Ja'Marr yell and quickly yelled back at him as he was running towards you.

“LIL BRO!”

Ja'Marr promptly picked you up and hugged you before setting your back down on your feet.

“You see your husband's griddy?” He asked and Joe simply smirked at the both of you.

“He just told me that it's the black wife effect.”

“I have to agree, this man has a grill now, seasons his food, still holding onto the pumpkin pie, but I'll let it slide today. Maybe one day he'll accept that it honestly tastes like sweet potato pie with low self-esteem.” He replied and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Bye Ja'Marr!”

“What!? Did I lie!?”

“No, but I need a milkshake babe. Go do your presser so I can get one on the way home.”

“I need another kiss before I do.” He told you as Ja'Marr made a gagging noise.

“Yall make me sick.”

“Then look away.” Joe told him as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You would think that it's been forty days and forty nights since the two of you saw each other last.”

“And we're ignoring you.”

–

“Fuck! That's it, pretty girl.” Joe whispered in your ear as he had wrapped his arms around you as you continued to ride him.

The ride home honestly felt like torture with you both trying to keep your hands off one another and forget the bedroom. The two of you barely made it through the front door as clothes were thrown off and left in a pile as you were now on the couch riding him.

The two of you learned pretty quickly that ever since you had gotten pregnant and you were now obviously showing since there wasn't just one in there, but two, the most comfortable positions for you were either riding him or laying down on your side and Joe was not complaining in the slightest.

However Joe was then abruptly confused when you had suddenly stopped and proceeded to swing your legs off of him and his protests were quickly heard.

“Babe, I was close. What the hell?” He asked as you had now spread his legs to make room and got down on your knees in front of him.

“Then how about you shut up and stop complaining? I got down here so you could face fuck me, but I will gladly get back up.”

“You're going to regret getting smart with me before the night is over.”

“Mm hmm, sure Burrow.” You responded as you rolled your eyes. You had done that on purpose because the adrenaline from winning the game mixed with him getting annoyed by your smart mouth would lead to him not showing you any mercy and that was exactly what you wanted.

Doing as he was told, Joe moved closer to the end of the couch as you took him in your mouth. Your hair kept ending up getting in the way, and he decided to help you as he put it into a makeshift ponytail which also led to him being able to have a better hold on you as he sped up his pace of him moving in and out of your mouth.

“You're doing such a good job, princess.”

A mix of sweat, tears, and drool was running down your face as he kept hitting the back of your throat. Your jaw was definitely sore, but you weren't quitting any time soon and was determined to see it all the way through until Joe got his release.

Being able to finally come up for air, Joe moved your head all the way back making you lose contact with him when he leaned forward to kiss you before sliding back into your mouth.

“Come on, baby. You gonna make me cum?” Joe asked as he finally released his hold on you.

Once he did, between the use of your mouth along with your hand it was only a matter of time.

You felt the first drop hit the back of your throat and was soon followed by a string of curse words from his mouth as you were trying to swallow the full load.

“You better swallow it. The entire thing.” He told you as he lightly tapped your cheek. It took you a minute but once you did, you also ran your finger along your cheek and chin to get what had dribbled out and sucked on your fingers.

“Good girl.”

Joe then picked you back up to sit in his lap and kissed you before turning to the side and laying down while taking you by your hips to move you up so you would be right above his face.

“I promised to eat you out, didn't I?” Joe asked you as he kissed all along your thighs.

“Yes.”

“Now stay still.”

--

Liked by joeyb_9, thewomancave, taylorrooks, lahjay10_, cincinattibengals, and 867,254 others

wifeyshiesty: the black wife effect lol now put some respect on my baby's name! so proud of you pookie!

My mic'd up episode will be released at midnight!

lahjay10_: I taught him that at the cookout. they grow up so fast. taylorrooks: I can't wait to hear the episode and talk about it! erinthegymnast: when he hit that griddy, me and wifey screamed so loud we're surprised they didn't hear us out on the field joeybfanatic: OMG not wifey being mic'd up lmao I absolutely love her on the woman cave so I'm excited for the unhinged shit that I know she's about to say joeyb_9: she's been unhinged since I met her, but I wouldn't have it any other way lahjay10_: joeyb_9 bruh I warned your ass and you still married her wifeyshiesty: lahjay10_ I know where you live (3 houses down) so get yourself together before I bust through your front door lahjay10_: wifeyshiesty if you can reach the handle to get in joeyb_9: pause, let me grab a snack to watch this go down joeburrowupdates: lmaooo not joe wanting his wife to beat her little brother's ass lahjay10_: she's all talk, she won't do anything joeyb_9: uh ja'marr she just put on her slides and grabbed her keys, I would make a run for it if I were you 👀

[wendichester]

Love your writing, you write Dean so well!!!!!! If you’re still taking them, can I request one based on the Siren episode, where reader is on the mission with Dean and Sam, and Dean’s dream girl looks eerily like the reader and you’re like “dude… why does she look like me?” funny, fluffy and smutty? Dean and reader have unresolved tension from previous missions

˙˖°🪞⋆｡⊹˚ ideal type,

summary. there's a siren on the lose and dean is its next target .ᐟ

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 937.

notes. i went to rewatch this episode because I had completely forgotten about it. i had a blast writing this and hope I was able to meet your expectations ehe ‹𝟹

The motel room is small, as always. One bed for you, another for Sam, and Dean relegated to the couch because he lost rock-paper-scissors. Again. The Siren case had been dragging on for days, and the three of you were starting to fray at the edges.

The oldest Winchester leans against the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the woman before him. Her smile is teasing, lips curving in a way that sets his nerves alight. Everything about her feels familiar―too familiar. She leans in closer, brushing her fingers over his arm.

"You're tense," she says, voice smooth and low, like honey dripping off a spoon.

Dean chuckles, trying to shake off the unease pooling in his gut. "Yeah, well, comes with the territory."

She tilts her head, her dark eyes boring into his. "I can help with that."

Her hand slides up his arm, over his shoulder, and lands on his chest. Dean swallows hard. Something's off, he knows it. But her face... her face looks so much like you, it's unnerving. It's you, but it's not. Not really. Her eyes are just a shade darker, her voice carrying a sultry undertone that he's never heard from you. Yet, the curve of her lips, the line of her jaw... it's almost an exact match.

"You're so goddamn beautiful," he mutters, almost to himself.

Her smile widens, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I know,"

Before Dean can process the odd response, she closes the distance between them, her lips pressing against his. It's electric, and for a moment, he forgets everything. Her hands curl into his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss deepens. Dean's hands move instinctively, gripping her waist and pulling her flush against him. The warmth of her body, the intoxicating scent of her skin, is almost too much.

But then, a sharp sting cuts through the haze, the back of his throat burning. His mind races―something's wrong.

The door bursts open, and Sam storms in with you trailing behind him, wide-eyed and alarmed.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, and Dean jerks back from the woman, his heart pounding.

Your eyes dart between Dean and the woman who looks just like you, horror and confusion etched across your face. "Dude," you breathe, your voice laced with disbelief. "Why does she look exactly like me?"

Dean stumbles back, his head spinning as the realization hits him like a freight train. "Wha‒I‒"

Sam doesn't hesitate. He grabs Dean's arm, yanking him back as the woman―the siren―advances. "She's infected you," Sam snaps, pulling out a bronze dagger from his bag. "Hold still."

Dean barely has time to react before Sam slashes his arm with the blade, drawing blood. Dean hisses but stays upright, his body tingling as the siren lunges. Sam moves like lightning, driving the blood-coated dagger into her chest.

The siren's eyes widen in shock before she collapses, her form flickering and changing, her resemblance to you fading as her true monstrous features are revealed.

The room falls into silence, save for Dean's labored breathing. He presses his hand into his bleeding arm, his gaze darting to you as you approach him.

"You okay?" your voice comes out soft.

"Yeah," he manages to mutter hoarsely. "I'm okay."

Hours later, the Impala hums softly on the road. Sam is passed out in the backseat, his head lolling the window. You sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed under your chest as you glance at Dean, who's gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

Finally, you break the silence. "Can we address the elephant in the room, now?"

Dean exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw working as he searches for an answer. "I... don't know."

You turn in your seat to face him, brows furrowing as the leather of the Impala cracks underneath you. "Dean,"

He glances at you, then back at the road. "Maybe it's... I don't know. Sirens mess with your head. Make you see things."

Your cheeks heat up, but you press on. "Technically―they show you what you desire most, ya' know... according to Bobby."

Dean's grip on the wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white. "Don't be a smartass," he grumbles under his breath, doing his best to avoid your gaze.

"I'm not being a smartass," you counter, your voice softer now. "It's okay, you know. If that's how you feel."

His jaw ticks as he glances at you again, his green eyes darker than usual. "You don't get it," he says, voice low. "It's not just how you look. It's... everything."

Your breath catches, and you struggle to find the right words. The tension in the car is thick, electric. Finally, Dean sighs, shaking his head. "Forget it."

But you don't want to forget it. Not when his words have your heart racing. "Dean..."

He pulls over suddenly, the Impala rolling to a stop on the side of the empty road. He turns to you, his expression intense. "I'm not good at this," he admits. "But, yeah. Maybe the siren got it right. Maybe I do... want you."

Your heart feels like it might burst as his words sink in. "You‒"

He cuts you off by leaning across the seat, his hand cupping your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. It's soft at first, hesitant, but when you kiss him back, it deepens, years of unspoken tension finally breaking free.

When you finally pull back, you're both breathless. Dean rests his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face. "You're not just what I want," he whispers. "You're what I need."

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, as the Impala's engine hums softly in the background. For the first time in a long time, you feel at ease, the only weight you feel is Dean's hand resting on your thigh.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery

[nicverse]

crawling back to you

where jason can't stop coming back to you every night.

jason todd x journalist!reader

warnings: small mention of blood and wounds. just a little bit of fluff.

You were too busy writing your next article about the last incident in Gotham, too focused on the sound of your fingers against the keyboard that you didn’t even notice Jason’s body slipping behind you, resting his body on your couch.

It had been a long, long night. He was tired and probably didn’t have a good night's sleep for weeks, so as soon as his head touched the soft material of your couch, he dozed off.

His own apartment had been long forgotten since the first time he entered yours. Yours was full of life, small little cosy lights instead of the cold ones he had, lots of books and music records you loved to play when you were cooking. Everything was so nice and warm, like you. Jason always told himself he kept coming back to your place because he just loved the good decoration it had, but mostly, he loved the person who was living there.

He really loved the pretty thing that was sitting in front of him, quickly writing on her laptop.

You didn’t notice his presence until you stood up from your desk and saw his body passed out on your couch. Your heart jumped in your chest as your soul left your body for a few seconds, you were not yet used to his late night appearances in your house. You walked very slowly towards his face, gently removing his mask as your fingers slowly caressed his face. He had a few deep cuts but the worst one was in his brown; an ugly, deep cut that started to bleed a little.

You went for your aid kit. It wouldn’t be the first time you stitched him up and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your fingers lingered against his skin carefully, starting to clean his wounds.

Jason was a light sleeper, so he noticed your presence as soon as you touched his skin, but he didn’t open his eyes. He felt your fingers taking care of his face so carefully as if he would break. His heart started to pound like a horse running, so hard that he was afraid that you would feel it too.

Your hand was a rose petal cleaning the skin of a killer, and the worst part was that he didn’t even flinch. He just closed his eyes and relaxed in the warmth of your body close to his. Jason never thought he was worthy of so much love, especially you, a broken body like his would never be able to get better.

But you made him believe otherwise. From the first time you took him in your arms and cleaned his wounds he knew deep down that maybe there was hope for him to be better.

"I know you are awake, Jason," you murmured with a chuckle, patching up his wounds. "You're the worst light sleeper I've ever met," Jason opened his eyes to find your pretty face looking down on his as your body knelt beside your couch, "You don't have to patch me up, you know," he replied, biting his cheek to stop the smile that threatened to appear on his face.

He never wanted you to stop patching him up, though. Every night, he would crawl back to you and seek your warmth.

"I know, but I want to," you said, fixing the hair that covered his face. Your eyes pinned in his, no, you didn’t look at the scars in his body, you never looked at him with fear or anger but it was always love and affection.

He wanted to kiss you so badly, to hold you close and never let go, to feel your soft embrace melt into his.

But he couldn't. He didn’t want you to get involved in his world or in his life, not because he didn’t love you, it was because he loved you so much that he wanted to keep you away from his problems— from him.

“Just sleep a bit, Jason, your eyebags make you look like a raccoon” you passed him a blanket, his favorite “could say the same ‘bout you, princess” Jason responded as you rolled your eyes.

"Good night, Red Hood," you said as your body disappeared in the door to your bedroom.

Maybe he should be keeping away from you, but he didn’t want to— not anymore.

—there's something about this type of jason, he loves you buy is too afraid to fuck everything up. yet he can't stop craving your love!

—this is something i took out of the fic im writing about jason x journalist!reader and I love these two already

—i'd love to do requests! feel free to ask them <3

[misayani]

fluff with se-mi? :3

CHERRY-SH MY LOVE ! — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜eversince you started working at Ice Creampies, the famous ice cream parlor downtown, you've seen the same woman everyday. you started to get concerned about her health, won't eating ice cream everyday give you diabetes? 

𔗨 author's note — this is my best attempt in writing something sweet, enjoy ! <3 [lowercase intended]

— fluff 

the first time you saw her was on the second day of your work, july 4th. your lips form into a polite smile as you greeted the woman. you observed her, seeing her wonderful taste in fashion. she wore a black leather jacket with a black tee underneath and some slightly large pants. you also noticed the amount of rings she had on each hand, the black choker around her neck, and of course, the piercings on her pretty face.

she looks similar to that one anime chick. you thought. nana something- osaku? osaki? osaka?

"hi. i would like to get cherry ice cream on a medium sized co—" she cut herself off as she finally locked eyes with you. she probably didn't even hear you greet her earlier since she was too busy patting her pockets.

"hi."

you blinked at her, "hi." you smiled before she opens her mouth and then closes it again. you saw her glance at your name tag then letting out a small cough.

"new here?" 

you pause before answering, "yeah." you thought that maybe she was a regular customer, considering how she caught on to the fact you were a new worker.

"right. um, cherry ice cream on a medium sized cone please." she nods to you as she hands the exact amount for the ice cream before you could even serve it to her— okay maybe i'm right, regular customer. you took the payment from her before you excused yourself to serve her the ice cream.

who in their right minds would be willing to swallow cherry ice cream. eugh. 

you scrunch your face up as you scoop out the cold cream, not being a big fan of cherries. holding the finished scooped ice cream, you walk back to the counter and see the rather attractive woman waiting patiently— elbows rested slightly on the counter with the both of her palms supporting her face.

she notices you come back and you handed her ice cream with a side note of 'enjoy. have a nice day.' she simply nods to acknowldge you before glancing at you one last time, and then walking out the ice cream parlor.

second time she walked in was july 5th. this time, actually greeting you back with a small smile. she ordered the same thing, cherry ice cream, and handed you the payment. minutes later, you came back with her ice cream, keeping it away from you as possible. you couldn't stand the smell of cherry.

your heart flutters as the woman chuckles— "hell, why do you look so disgusted with it" 

you pressed your lips together as you handed her the ice cream, "just not a big fan of cherries."

"why not?"

"they make me dizzy. i mean- the smell at least."

"cherries make you dizzy?" she raises her eyebrows at you while she licks her ice cream. you check her out, today she's wearing a simple long sleeved white polo, with the sleeves cuffed up to her elbows and two buttons undone and some casual denim pants.

"done checking me out?" you snap your gaze back to hers. her lips formed into a smug smile as she licks her lips. 

"wasn't checking you out." you retort. she just chuckles as if she doesn't believe you and started to head to the exit.

she pauses, before turning to the counter, "i didn't mind. thank you for this." she says as she waves the slightly melting ice cream in her hand and then she walks out the parlor, leaving you behind the counter face palming out of embarrassment.

following days passed with her walking in the store and buying the same thing everytime, not noticing the glances and the flirty smiles she was giving you. sometimes she'd tell you some flirty remarks and then always quick to leave the store after.

"you have a boyfriend?" it was your 6th time serving her ice cream. your face heats up at the sudden question as she stares at you waiting for an answer.

soon enough, you'd come up with something a bit bolder than usual. 

"why? wanted to ask me out?" the words slipped from your mouth confidently. her eyes twinkle in amusement as she grins,

"maybe." 

butterflies swarm in your stomach as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. your lips part, hesitating for a moment, before telling her: "i'm not interested in men. so, no." 

she bites her lower lip, a grin threatening to form on her face. you notice her cheeks turn into a light shade of pink before she grabs something from her back pocket then handing it to you. she bites down on her melting ice cream in anticipation, observing your face for any reactions.

it's a folded paper. confused, you accepted it and unfolded the small piece of paper. a smile spreads across your face as you see what's inside: her number and a 'call me sometime;)' written messily under. 

you look up to her, who was staring at you with hopeful eyes. you shoot her a warm smile, nodding before tucking away the note in your jean's pocket. 

"i will." the both of you were staring at each other before her lips finally form into a smile and you couldn't help but giggle like a high-schooler who just got asked out. 

"okay, sometime." she nods while smiling, "sometime." you agree as she makes her way to the exit. "oh your ice cream is melting!" you exclaim, seeing the cherry liquid drip down her fingers. she looks at her hand, surprising herself as if she didn't even noticed— "oh shit, yeah. it's fine, i'll handle it." 

she glances at you one last time before saying, "thank you for this." and then walks out the store leaving you with a more-than-happy feeling inside you.

a few days passed and every single one of them was her visiting the store. she finally told you her name, se-mi—which was funny, her number came first before she even introduced herself to you. but nonetheless, you both started texting each other days ago, either continuing the unfinished conversation from the store earlier or just her being talkative and you rolling your eyes at her antics and smiling dumbly at your phone screen.

july 19th, 18:00. it was the end of your shift, finally, you thought. you greet your co workers goodbye as you walk out the store with an excited expression. 

se-mi had asked to take you out on a date once your shift ended. here you are: wearing a casual dress that ended just above your knees, which you wore throughout your shift, walking down the steps before you were met with se-mi patiently waiting and leaning back on her motorcycle.

good god, how can this woman be more attractive? 

she notices you walking closer towards her as her lips immediately form into a smile. 

"hi." she softly greets

you smile, "hi." you shyly say as you finally reach her. she carefully hands you a helmet as you laugh, taking it from her. she shots you a confused look, "how many girls you asked out before have worn this helmet?" you say while chuckling.

she looks at you as if she was offended before she rolls her eyes playfully, "i just bought that yesterday. and no else will use it but you and only you." she remarks.

you smile, "i'm kidding babe, where are we off to anyways?" you say, wearing the helmet which by the way, smelled amazing. 

she suddenly coughs, you notice the tips of her ears turning pink. she distracts herself, grabbing something from the tote bag she brought. "it- it won't be a secret anymore if i tell you." she cleared her throat before handing a blanket to you.

"wrap that around your waist." 

aw. she cared enough to bring a cover for your dress. 

she hops on her motorcycle before slightly tilting it sidewards so you'd get on easier. she waits as you finish wrapping the blanket around your waist before you hopped on.

"hold on tight, i'm gonna go fast." she warns before the two of you ride off to the night, the wind rushing past and the city lights blurring into streaks of color.

that night, she took you stargazing. the comfortable blanket on the grass, the both of you seated, and two tubs of ice cream for the both of you— cherry flavored for her, and strawberry for you. still, you didn't let her pass, you told se-mi about how you absolutely despised cherries as her laugh surrounds the both of you and into the peaceful surrounding.

<3

@misayani

[headkiss]

hi hi there! Newcomer to your blog here, and I just wanna say that I love love love your writing sm, it makes me warm and happy and I wanna consume it like good soup. I saw that you’re looking for Spencer requests (my beautiful beloved baby) and I was wondering if I could just request a classic friends to lovers where the reader is a member of the team, and gets hurt on a case and that’s what makes Spencer realize? Any format you’d like. This might be a bit tmi but I just got broken up with and honestly fictional men are the only thing getting me through this rn, and seeing you were taking requests was just straight up happiness. Thank you!

this is so sweet what if i cry :,) i hope this helps you at least a little bit (especially since this has been sitting in my drafts for a MINUTE) <3 you will get through this my love (spencer thinks so too!) | 0.7k words!! my first spencer fic so bare with me 😅 tw mention of a knife and a small injury !

You’re no stranger to taking risks. Nobody at the BAU is. It’s practically written into your job descriptions. Split-second decisions, no room for mistakes.

Only, usually they seem to pay off. Mostly. This time, you aren’t so lucky.

After three days of profiling and trying to catch this unsub, of new victims and suspects and secrets uncovered by Garcia, you’ve finally found him. Apprehending an unsub seems to either be the easiest or toughest part of a case.

This time around, it’s the latter. He’s stubborn, and smarter than you’d like to admit, and when you think you’ve got an opening, the upper hand, that one wrong move proves you wrong.

It’s so quick, the way he grabs your wrist and twists your arm behind your back harshly, a pained groan escaping your mouth before you can suppress it. The way the team all springs into action quickly, talking to him calmly, Hotch at the forefront.

And the look on Spencer’s face. The pleading in his eyes that he can’t seem to control.

He’s who you look to first. Who you keep looking at, because you think if anyone could keep you calm in this moment, if anyone could make you believe you’ll be okay, it’s him.

There’s a knife held to your neck, a cruel grip on your arm, and still, you look at Spencer.

“I won’t cut her if you let me go,” the unsub says. You squeeze your eyes shut before blinking them back open.

You know Hotch has a plan, and if he doesn’t, then Emily does, and so on. They’re all incredible, and there’s not a part of you that thinks they won’t get you out of this, but your heart still pounds, your stomach still twists in fear.

“Go ahead,” Hotch says.

“Hotch-” Spencer’s voice is quiet but sharp. He trusts Aaron, he always has, but you aren’t something he wants to gamble.

“You won’t get far,” Hotch continues.

You find Spencer’s eye and nod at him, so slight that he’d be the only one to pick up on it, since he’s paying such close attention to you. Under different circumstances, you might feel your heart flutter from it.

Sure enough, Aaron does have a plan, and before you can really process what he’s said or done to get through to him, the unsub lets you go with a harsh push, and the first place you go is into Spencer’s waiting arms.

“Take her outside, Reid, we’ve got this,” Morgan says quickly. Spencer doesn’t fight him on it.

He walks you out with one arm tight around your waist and the other stabilizing your wrist. His hands are far kinder than the ones that had been on you moments ago, and you let him hold some of your weight until you’re settled sitting in the back of one of the ambulances on scene.

Spencer watches them wrap your wrist with a tensor bandage, watches them assure you that it’s just a sprain, that you’re otherwise injury-free. He holds your good hand the entire time. Maybe too tightly.

You both wait until the paramedics are done and have walked away to help somebody else before speaking.

“Well, that was fun,” you say. Your instincts are always to play things down, to hide behind jokes. Still, you let yourself lean your head against Spencer’s shoulder.

“No, it wasn’t,” he says. The hand that isn’t holding yours covers your bouncing knee. “I know a lot about odds, and they weren’t in our favor back there.”

“It was mostly my fault, probably. I let him get too close.”

“We arrived seconds later than we should have. That car slowed us down in the intersection on the way, and then the rest was off.” He tells you. Comforting you the way he knows how; with the facts. “Time is what went wrong. Not you. Never you.”

You pick your head up and turn your head to look at him, his hair falling around his ears, his eyes still worried but soft. “Never, huh? I’m gonna remember that.”

Reid squeezes your good hand, his pinky running across your wrist to find your pulse, like he’s making sure you’re really okay. “I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so afraid on the job.”

“Not even when you’re the one being held like that?” you ask.

“No,” he tells you. “Not even then.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

I can't remember where you said it, but I remember you saying how Aemond likes the deep pressure feeling of you lying on top of him. I was wondering if you could write smth about that?? Like, I personally LOVE having someone lie on me, too. It's like the ultimate weighted blanket! I'd love to hear more thoughts on this, and maybe even with the roles reversed and him lying on you

Absolutely anon!! Absolutely!!

This is mostly just soft and SFW but since it mentions nakedness and some suggestive themes then I'll hide it under a cut just to be safe. Enjoy lads!

This is something I think Aemond would always have liked and sought out even before he fully knew what it was. When he was younger he used to wrap his blanket as tightly around himself as possible. Often that was the only way he could fall asleep.

That's also one of the reasons why he loves traveling with Vhagar so much. She always opens her wing out and stretches it over him while he sleeps, never moving until he wakes up. He always used to sleep so much better while traveling with her, and often he would willingly take longer routes home just to spend an extra night or two like that.

It's not really a desire he fully understood back then. He just knew that the feeling of something heavy or tight around him made him feel so much better, so much safer.

You first discover this a few weeks after you finally start cuddling regularly. One of Aemond's favourite cuddling positions is to lay cuddled up against you, resting his cheek on your chest and bending his legs to rest on top of yours. He especially loves it when you wrap an arm around his shoulder.

But sometimes it seemed like Aemond couldnt relax? He'd constantly be shuffling and nuzzling against you, pulling your arm tighter around him. You ask what he wants and honestly he's not even sure? He just knows he could be closer somehow, and he wants it.

The next time you're laying together, you come to bed after him and he's laying on his back. So you switch places with him and this time it's you cuddled against his chest. He pulls you closer, tighter and buries his nose into your hair, like he can't get you close enough.

You try to change positions and in doing so you accidentally end up nearly on top of him. Before you can even apologise he is already pulling you closer so your weight it on him. You try to get off, telling him that you must be squashing him but he won't hear it. He falls asleep so easily and in the morning when you bring it up all he can say is that he felt secure.

Of course now that you're armed with this information you lay on him much more often, sometimes he even asks for it. Maybe, since we all know how much he loves to be of service, you ask him if he would like to try reading to you while you lay like that?

He sits up against the headboard with you curled up in his lap. You let your body rest over his legs rather than try to avoid it. He loves it, always keeping a hand on your back.

At first he would only read you whatever you had suggested, and never suggested anything himself. But over time as he grows more comfortable with you and begins to show you all the different sides of himself, then he starts to read you history books? It becomes one of his favourite things to do.

I also think he would love that sort of pressure when not in the bedroom as well? Obviously far more toned down.

If you two are watching Aegon hold court then you tend to stand off to the side with Aemond. He leans against the wall and then pulls you closer, holding you against him and letting him hold up some of your weight. He wraps one of his arms around your waist and will often rest his head on your shoulder (especially because he can whisper things to you about how boring this is and how Aegon made the wrong decision and all his other complaints.)

[blinkstay4life]

I really loved your fic “A Kiss Once The Clock Strikes 12”! It’s just a suggestion, but you should enter in the Stayblr Christmas Writing Challenge! Again, loved the fic.

Thanks for the request! I did make one, and it’s a bit rushed, but I hope you like it!

————————————————————————

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕖𝕤𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖

Ship: Minho!highschool x Y/n Genre: Romance, high school au, fluff, slight angst, jealousy Warnings: Coarse language, mild sexual references, Christmas Spirit! Wc: 6.5k

This is for the Stayblr writing challenge! I know I’m cutting it close, but I hope you like it!

-> @stayblrofficial

*10 years ago*

“Oppa! Oppa!” Y/n giggled, running up to Minho and giving him a hug. He responded with a chuckle, hugging you back. “You took so long at the park with Jaehoon, I thought you’d gone away forever!” you pout, and Minho laughs again before pulling away slightly. “You know, you could’ve come too.” he said, ruffling your hair. “But I don’t like Jaehooon. He’s a meanie.” you whine, and Minho jokingly rolls his eyes. You begin tugging at Minho’s arm “Come, come! Omma and Appa have already made tteokbokki! We were waiting for you for so long!” Minho’s eyes widened. “Really?” You nod rapidly and he grins. “Race you!” With that, you run off inside, an equally excited Minho running behind you. “UNFAIR! YOU GOT A HEAD START!” He yells behind you as you reach the doorstep. In response, you stick out your tongue and go inside, where your dad is waiting. “Hey! Shoes off, and wash up before you sit at the table.” He says as he sets up the table. “Awwww!” Minho and you groan at the same time before bursting into giggles and running to your respective homes to shower. Not even ten minutes later, you both come back to the table and sit down eagerly as the steaming tteokbokki is getting served onto the plates. You turn to Minho and grin. “Don’t ever be gone for that long again! Look what you almost missed out on!!!” you laugh, and dig in as Minho nods and does the same, smiling widely.

*10 years later*

You are attempting to fix your tie in the mirror for the thousandth time, but it just wasn’t having it today. You groaned as you untangled it AGAIN, just as a loud banging was heard on the door. “Minho-ya! Don’t bang the door down!” You yell, annoyed already. He dramatically gasps as he slips out of his shoes with ease. “No Oppa today? What did I do!!!” He whines, and you shoot him an annoyed glare before going back to your tie, eyes scrunched in frustration. “Ah! Your first day of high school and you can’t tie a tie?” he tutted, but flinched as you raised your hand threateningly. “Relax, I’ll help you.” he said smoothly, and took the tie out of your hands and began untangling the monstrosity that you had created. Not focussing as he did so, you looked up at his eyes, crinkling in the corners as he smiled teasingly, his hair falling perfectly across them. Temporarily mesmerised, your eyes traced his features, eventually landing on his mouth. His lips, turned upwards in a smirk, looked so pink and soft, his tongue poking out slightly, the only sign that he was struggling. You were so entranced by him that you didn’t even notice that he was finished with your tie. “Y/n, y/n, Y/N!” Minho yelled, and you snapped back into reality with his voice, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Thanks.” you say, gesturing to the tie, before walking away immediately, leaving a mildly confused Minho in your wake. “Hey! Wait up!” he says as you walk out of the room, beginning to set the table for breakfast. “Yang Y/n, if you don’t stop right this instant I will not hesitate to OBLITERATE you in a tickle fight.” Minho threatened, his hands on his hips, but you jokingly ignored him, getting out the cutlery way too loudly. “Fine.” He shrugged, grinning obnoxiously, “You asked for it!” He promptly lunged at you and grabbed your sides, his fingers skirting over your skin. Your laughter filled the air as he tickled you hard, your eyes forming tears at how hard you were laughing. “St-stop!” you pant in between giggles, but Minho doesn’t relent, laughing as well. “I did warn you!” he grinned mischievously, and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t being ruthlessly attacked. You fell to the floor slightly. “Minhoo!” You whine good-naturedly, still being subjected to the tickle torture. He tutted annoyingly, his eyes twinkling. “Call me Oppa! Show some respect Y/nnie!” he teased. “Fine! Minho Oppa! I’m sorry!” you gasped as he finally stopped, laughing uncontrollably as you got up and scowled at him teasingly. “I hate you.” you say, still giggling softly, barely composing yourself before finally setting the table. “Love you too!” he says, blowing an exaggerated kiss at you as he sat down. Just then, your mom came into the kitchen. “Y/n!” she gasped. “Your hair is a mess!” Your eyes widen as you rush to the closest mirror. 

“MINHO OPPA! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” 

Twenty minutes later, unfortunately Minho is still alive and you’re on the bus to school. You pick at your nails, a nervous habit you’ve developed from childhood. “Y/n.” Minho breathed, nudging at your hands. “You can’t honestly be that nervous.” He says it lightly, but there’s an underlying concern in his voice that makes you look up. “I don’t know. Your friends are well-“ you say. You’ve definitely seen his friends at their worst, sweatpants and hoodies with greasy hair and dark circles, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you don’t know their best. The most popular group of people in the whole school, desired and not without good reason. They were talented, smart and athletic, not to mention attractive. And you were one of their best friends. Really, they considered you a sister. Which means more expectations to live up to that you don’t think you can. “It’s a lot of pressure.” you finish, drawing your gaze back to your hands as you continue to fiddle. “Hey.” Minho said gently, grabbing your hand lightly. “I believe in you. School’s fun, trust me. Plus with the Christmas Gala coming up, everybody’s going to be too excited to even notice you.” you roll your eyes, because you both know that’s not true. Literally nothing happens at Jungchae high, so any news is news for a long time. “Minho, it’s weird enough that I’m the only new student this school has seen in half a century, but I’m joining straight in the middle of the year.” you say, looking out the window as the school approaches. Minho had started high school two years before you, and now that you’re 15, you’re starting too. You had originally gone to a public school but your parents had gotten a raise and had decided to send you to the same private school as your best friend. They just failed to mention that it would be smack in the middle of the year. Before you can say anything though, the bus screeches to a halt, and everyone jostles to get off. You take a deep breath and get off the bus, blending in with the crowd as you stick close to Minho. At first, no one notices you in the chatter. But when you enter the school, and the crowd disperses, the whispers begin.

“Wait, does anyone know her?”

“Clearly Minho does. Look how close they are!”

“What class is she in? Because she’s late!”

“Real. Who joins in the middle of the school year?”

“She’s kinda pretty though. Might hit her up sometime.”

“Mate. She’s way out of your league.”

A blush tinges your cheeks as Minho moves slightly closer to you, his protective instincts never faltering, especially at the last comment. Suddenly someone runs up to you two. “Minho hyung! Minho hyung!” Jisung yells from the other side of the hall, grinning widely. “What.” Minho says, but smiles slightly. “I- Y/n.” Jisung stops short once he notices you. “Y/nnie!” Jisung grinned and pulled you into a hug. You take a minute to realise that this is Minho’s best friend, because he looks so different. He really cleans himself up when he goes to school, you think, glancing at his attire, so different to when he goes over to Minho’s house. The whispers intestify. As do the stares. You offer a smile to Jisung just before a loud trilling sound breaks the silence. Students scurry to class, as does Jisung, but Minho stays for a moment. “Will you find your class okay?” he asks, and you nod dismissively. “I’ll be fine.” 

It turns out, you were not fine. It was around five minutes after the bell rang and you were hopelessly wandering around, the only people still in the halls were the few stragglers that were still talking. You wander awkwardly until someone pulls you over. “Hi, are you new here?” she says, and you look up at the girl. She has long black hair and chocolatey brown eyes, a small smile perched on her lips. “Yeah. I’m a little lost.” you laugh and she smiles brighter. “Don’t worry! I’m Kim Eun Ji, but everyone just calls me Ji. What class do you have?” You blink at her, barely registering what she said as she talked at the speed of light, but responded. “I’m Y/n. Ummm…” you glance at your timetable “History. In 311.” Ji gasps dramatically. “Oh my god, same! This is totally a sign!” she grins, then over exaggeratedly holds out her hand. “My lady. Let me be your guide to the ancient wonders of whatever we were learning about in that boring class.” You giggle and let her lead the way. As you reached, she introduced you to her friends. “This is Hyunju, Yunsun, Hajun, Yejun and Jaehoon.” you nod politely at each of them, until you reach Jaehoon. “Wait!” you say, startled slightly. “You’re Minho oppa’s friend! Aren’t you my neighbour too?” you grin, as Ji exchanges glances with the rest of the group. “Minho…Oppa? You know Minho? Like THE Lee Minho?” Ji asks slowly, her eyes wide in disbelief. You nod. “Yeah, I’ve known him since I was like two years old. I swear Jaehoon was his friend!” you say excitedly, and Jaehoon chuckles, his voice deep and rich as he speaks. “Yeah, I was. Kinda like those forced friendships you have when you’re little though.” he says, smiling, and you can’t help but smile back. “Ok Jaehoon, and we love that for you, but you WERE friends with him. I wanna know about you, Y/n, and the first topic we should talk about is how the hell you know Minho, but more importantly, how you can introduce him to me?” Yu Sun says, and grabs your shoulders tightly. For some reason, you immediately don’t like her, and your stomach flips when she basically confesses her crush for Minho. Meanwhile, Jaehoon is still staring at you from across the room, so intensely that you can feel it. “I-I don’t know…” you begin, but can’t finish as everyone’s chatter overlaps you.

Over the next few days, you come to realise that your new found friend group is well known, at least well known enough. When you go around the school, almost every person roaming the corridors waves to Ji. Soon enough, they begin to wave to you as well, as if they had known you or even talked to you more than a casual greeting. As you walk the halls, you assume the whispers about you will stop, and though they have reduced slightly, the main thing that’s changed is what they whisper about. Before, you were just a random new kid who just happened to be friends with Minho. But now that they’d seen your personality, not to mention your face; it was more on if you were single. You didn’t really know what to do with the attention, but one thing for sure, it’s not stopping any time soon. Your train of thought was broken, however, as a tall guy stood in your way, leaning, opening his locker and blocking your path. He had long blonde hair that swept over his eyes and high cheekbones that made him look like a Ken doll. “Hey baby girl.” he says, looking you up and down. “Heard you’re new. I’m-“ before he could continue, he was cut off by a loud slam. You turn around to see Minho, his hand on the locker door as he slammed it shut. “I don’t think she gives a shit about your name, and more turned off by your stench.” Minho said darkly, and you smiled slightly. “So, go on and waddle out of here like the walking Ken doll you are desperately trying to be.” You chuckled slightly as he voiced your exact thoughts while the boy practically ran away. Minho turned to you, eyes softening slightly. “Are you okay?” he said gently, looking down at you. You looked into his eyes and felt your heart flutter a little before blushing and looking away. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I don’t need you to protect me, Oppa.” You meant it as a joke, but you watch as his eyes cloud with an emotion you don’t recognise. “I’ll protect you whenever you need me Y/n, whether you like it or not.” He practically growled the sentence, his gaze never leaving yours. You blink slightly, not knowing whether to be afraid or comforted by that sentence. Thankfully, the bell rang just in time, and you ran off, Minho still staring behind you. 

The next few weeks passed in a blur, and suddenly, you were 10 days away from Christmas, which means only a week away from the iconic Christmas Gala that Jungchae High hosted every year. It’s a fundraiser, but it’s also the whole school's excuse for a fully authorised night out. And literally all your friends had a date, except for Jaehoon and…well, you. Not for lack of interest, though, you think bitterly as the next wannabe approaches you. This one has the greasiest hair you’d ever seen, scraped into a ragged man bun like a try hard rock artist. You sighed as he droned on about how he’d been ‘watching you from afar’ and how it was ‘true love at first sight.” Before you could reject him however, someone came up behind you and shoved him. Hard. You turned around and saw Minho, his jaw clenched and mouth in a straight line. “What the fuck. You can’t expect to get a girl like that, greasy asshat. Go find someone else to bug.” he growled, and you rolled your eyes. “Oppa.” you begin, but he doesn’t let you finish, his earlier fury melting into concern almost as soon as he looked at you. “Y/n! Are you okay? Are you hurt? If that son of a bitch touched a hair on your head-.” You cut him off, eyes stern and cold. “Minho.” That shuts him up, his eyebrows raised at the tone and informal language. “I love that you are protecting me, but this-“ you gesture to the area where the boy just was. “This violence and constantly ‘helping’ when I don’t need it, it’s…stifling.” you breathe, because this kind of thing has been happening way too often these days. Every single time you were getting asked out, Minho would basically crush them, both mentally and physically, and it was starting to annoy you. Minho stays, silent but nods just enough to let you know that he’s listening. Suddenly, Ji appears next to you and starts talking about something erratically and before you know it, you’re getting whisked off somewhere. But you don’t know what Minho registered from the conversation until a text message lights up your phone on your way home.

im sorry. wanna go xmas shopping to make up for it? 12:30. 

ik your irresponsible ass hasn’t done it yet.

Shut up.

Fine.

The next day, you and Minho prepare to go to the pop up fair that had appeared in the Christmas spirit. For some reason, you felt a particular need to impress him. And for that same, mysterious reason, half your wardrobe was strewn across the floor, from shoes to scarves, you had dumped your everything to find something appropriate to wear to this not-date. Which is exactly what it was. It can’t be a date because Minho is just a friend. Just a friend, you reminded yourself again as you flung another dress across the room. Finally, you decided on a red dress with intricate silver details and a fluffy collar and sleeve cuffs. To get into the festive mood, you put on a cute Santa hat and finish it off with some red platforms. You look for your favourite perfume, the one Minho bought for you last year on your 14th birthday. Finally, you took out a pair of silver bauble earrings, ones that Jaehoon had given you, claiming he had “bought them by accident” and when you refused them, said he would throw them away if you didn’t wear them. You carefully put them on before checking one last time in the mirror, smoothing out your already styled hair before finally giving up and stepping outside. Minho was waiting for you outside, dressed nicely, or at least nicer than usual. He has on a pair of black corduroy pants and a black collared shirt, along with a thick jacket and beanie. “Jesus Y/n, aren’t you going to freeze to death in that?” Minho asked ridiculously, his eyes scanning over your outfit. You laughed a little but shook your head. It hadn’t even started snowing yet. “You look really pretty though.” Minho added, and you blush, giving a little curtsy jokingly. “So do you.” Both of you begin walking to the Christmas market, chatting amongst yourselves lightly. Once you reach, however, you gasp. “Oppa! Oppa! There’s Christmas carols. I haven’t been to one of those in forever!” you laugh and run up to them. Minho smiles warmly and walks along.

As you sway to the beat of the music, humming along softly, Minho’s eyes are drawn to you.How your eyes sparkle as you look at the choir, shining brightly. How your hair is strewn over your face like a perfect picture, your soft lips pulled into a gentle smile. He examines your features like he was trying to memorise them, his eyes never leaving your face. Not until you squeal, and he’s broken out of his thoughts. “What?” he says, looking up, trying to see what you’re so excited about. Finally, a single snowflake lands on his nose. “Minho Oppa! It's snowing for the first time!” you yell, your eyes lighting up, your cheeks tinged pink from the cold. He smiled and brushed the snowflake off, pinching your cheeks lightly as you scowled teasingly at him before getting distracted by the snowfall once more. As the caroling continued, the snowfall fell harder, and after about half an hour, there were a few inches of it. You knelt down on the floor, touching the snow and laughing. “Oppa! Look!” you squeal. Minho was definitely looking, just not at the snow. His gaze was firmly on you, focussed on your tinkling laugh and how you looked so pretty as you stared at the snow, your eyes shining with excitement. The only thing that snapped him out of it was when he was thrown back by something. His eyes snapped to attention as you wielded a snowball, aiming for him. “Snowball fight!” you say, and Minho smirks, gathering his own snowball.

“You’re so on.”

After a lot of laughing and even more snowballs, Minho was ready to go inside. “Y/n! How are you still not cold!” he whined teasingly, turning around to head back inside. Big mistake, you think, because you throw a snowball at him that has him falling to the floor. You gasp. “Minho Oppa! Oppa are you okay?” you ask, concerned, as he lays in the snow. He raises his arm out. “No, Y/n can you help me-“ you take his arm, then squeal when he pulls you down with him, laughing. “That’s what you get Y/nnie!” he teased and looked up at you. Only then does he realise how close you are to him, your faces inches apart, your body pressed on top of his. You analyse his features, almost automatically, before you clear your throat. “We should probably, um, go inside.” you say, getting up and dusting off the snow on your dress, and when you glance at him as he does the same, you notice a flash of…disappointment on his face?  You shrug it off and go to the nearest inn, a pub close by, where Minho follows you. Even though it’s warm, the adrenaline wore off, and now you shiver as you enter and take a seat at the table. Maybe you should have listened to Minho and brought a jacket after all. Just then, an unexpected warmth engulfs you, and you look up to see Minho handing you his jacket and putting it on your shoulders. “I told you to put on a jacket Y/nnie.” he sighs. You laugh, blushing slightly, as you tuck your hair behind your ear shyly. Suddenly, Minho speaks, his tone sharp and completely different from moments ago. “New earrings.” he says coolly, his eyes tracing them. “Yeah.” you say uncomfortably, waiting for the inevitable next question. “Who gave them to you?” You pick at your nails nervously. “Jaehoon oppa. You know, our neighbour? He used to be your friend.” you say, shying away from Minho’s gaze. “Yeah used to be for a reason! You’re just accepting gifts from random assholes on the street now?” he raised his voice as he spoke, and you ducked your head. “Oppa, you’re creating a scene.” you hiss, but Minho continues. “What makes you think you can have anything from him? That you’re allowed to take this from him?” You bang your hand on the table, finally making him stop. By now, everyone in the pub was looking at you. “Minho. It is none of your business what I take from someone or what they give me, and you definitely don’t have the power to allow me to do it. What I do with Jaehoon and what he does with me is none of your concern. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.” you say, stern and cold. Getting up from the table, you walk out of the pub, breathing heavily, with a shocked Minho behind you. As you stand outside the door, you notice the person you least expected to see, just as Minho runs up behind you. “Y/n, wait-“ he says, just as you say.

“Jaehoon?”

Jaehoon walks towards you, his eyes bright. “Y/n! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” he says, breaking into a light jog as he reaches you. Minho stays silent behind you, maybe in shock. You compose yourself before giving him a smile. “Hey Jaehoon oppa!” you say brightly, partly because of Jaehoon, but mainly because Minho is right behind you and you just have to prove that you’re the bigger person. “Hey, I need to ask you something.” he says, smiling gently, and you nod, gesturing for him to continue. He sends an awkward glance to Minho before leaning into your ear and whispering. “Alone.” You can practically feel Minho’s stare harden as you nod, but suddenly, you feel fingers on your wrist. You turn to see him grabbing your hand tightly, his eyes pleading with you not to go. But you were done with his overpowering ‘protection’, and you walked away with Jaehoon to a nearby corner. You know Minho could still see you, but he couldn’t hear you. Turning to Jaehoon, you shoot him a questioning glance. Jaehoon clears his throat and starts. “Y/n, I know you’re relatively new to the school and you’re probably not going to say yes, but I thought I’d ask anyway.” he says nervously, and it suddenly occurs to you why he’s pulled you into this corner. “I really like you, and I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Christmas Gala with me?” he says, closing his eyes. You look at Minho, filled with some sort of triumph before turning to him and answering.

“Yes.”

The walk home was silent. Jaehoon had offered to accompany you, but you had refused. You were kind of regretting it now, as the silence stretched between you and Minho like the Sahara. The only sound was the heavy trudging of boots as you walked through the snow. Minho opened his mouth multiple times as if to speak, but thought better of it every time. Once you finally reached your house, you didn’t bother to look at Minho before slamming the door behind you. As you stood at the door sill, you realised this was one of the first times he hadn’t come over to your house before going to his own. Dinner was silent, your dad and mum sending curious glances at you as you ate your food, but you remained stoic. You’d never really fought with Minho before, and it felt really…lonely. Especially at school. Even though you had your friend group, and Jaehoon, school felt like eternal hell, and every single time she would notice Minho in the halls, she would look away. Because if you looked any longer, her resolve would crumble because of that perfect face, and under no circumstances can that happen. 

You could feel your friends starting to worry, wondering what was going on, but you brushed them off, pretending it was just exam stress. “Come on Y/n, you’re no fun!” Yusun whined, and you wanted nothing more than to push her off a cliff. She’d been even more adamant about Minho these last few days as the Christmas Gala came closer, and it bugged you to no end. You didn’t quite know why it bugged you, but it did. “Relax, Y/n just broke up with someone.” Ji said jokingly, but both Yu/un and Jaehoon snapped to attention. “What? Who?” Jaehoon said quickly, his eyes straight on yours. You groaned. “I didn’t break up with anyone because we were never in a relationship.” you explain; staring daggers at Ji, who shrugged casually. “That’s not what it looks like.” she said in a sing-song, sitting down on the table. “Who are we talking about!” Yusun whinged, and you inhaled sharply. “Minho Oppa.” you say flatly, and she immediately begins to fangirl. “Minho is so- wait what.” she stopped short as she realised what Ji was implying. “You’re in a relationship with Minho. Wait no, you have a crush on him because you could never get him. He would never like someone like you, no offense” she said tersely, and Jaehoon laughed uncomfortably. Meanwhile, it felt like Yusun had dug a dagger in your heart, the sharp truth of her words breaking through you. He would never like someone like you. But why do you care? Your eyes widen in realisation as Ji whispers in your ear. “Yeah, you’re totally in love.”

Minho was definitely facing a similar situation. As you were walking home, he would try to say sorry, but the words just wouldn’t form. His parents were very vocal about your absence, and that just made him feel worse. He knew it was completely his fault, but he’s never argued with you, let alone apologised. School was even worse, like you were leaving a gaping hole inside of him. He kept relatively to himself, and his friends were teasing him about it non stop. “Hyung, why are you sulking lately! Have some fun!” Felix said, glancing over at his direction when he was looking particularly sullen. “Jesus Felix, be considerate! He’s going through a break up.” Hyunjin teased, snorting while Minho glared at him. Jisung laughed too. “Something like that.” he said, and Minho shot him a look. Jisung is the only person Minho willingly admitted it to, and he was severely regretting it. “It’s not a breakup because we were never together!” Minho groans, resting his head in his hands. “You sure look like you want to be together. What did she call you again? A jealous boyfriend.” Jisung laughed again, and the group broke out into loud yells. “Dayum you’re really head over heels for her!” Chan yelled, and Minho shook his head rapidly. “I’m not!” he said, and Changbin looked at him pointedly. “Then why are you so opposed to her having a boyfriend, or even a date to the gala?” he asked, trapping Minho in a corner as he struggled to respond. “I-um-“ he said, because he didn’t know. He didn’t know why his blood boiled when he saw another boy approaching you, why he wanted to punch every scumbag's face for even looking at you, and why he felt his stomach flip every single time he saw you and Jaehoon together. Maybe it was just a friendly instinct, but it didn’t explain how he felt like he was in another world when he talked to you, how his heart skipped a beat every time you smiled, and how he felt like he could listen to you laugh for ages. “You’re really in love, hyung.” Seungmin said as Minho snapped back into reality, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. “In love? How can I be in love?” Minho stammered, and inwardly cursed himself as he saw the smirk grow on Seungmin’s face. “Well, let’s do a test, shall we?” he said, a shit eating grin planted on his face. “Item A: Do you think she’s pretty?” he says, and Minho splutters for an answer. “Well, of course she’s pretty-ah, but-I mean-“ he stammered, and Seungmin grinned. “That’s a yes. Item B: Do you get jealous when other guys talk to her.” he waited a beat before answering his own question. “Never mind, I know the answer. Okay, Item C: Do you get butterflies when you talk to her?” Minho remained silent; Seungmin got his answer. “Yeah, you’re totally in love.”

The next day, in the halls, you were in thought for a while, staring into space, until someone tapped your shoulder. Turning around rapidly, you were half hoping it was Minho. But instead, it was Jaehoon, and you barely disguised the disappointment on your face. “Listen Y/n, I don’t know if you’ve been Christmas shopping yet.” he started, and immediately you knew he was lying. He had asked you out when you were Christmas shopping with Minho…ah. That’s what this was about. Ji’s teasing must have taken a toll on him, and you sighed before smiling tightly as he continued. “And I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Christmas fair with me?” he crossed his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut, just like he had when he first asked you out. His nervous expression might have been endearing to some, but to you, it was just another difference between him and Minho. Those differences became more apparent as the day went on. He had asked you to go the same day, and you had no time to get ready. But you found that you didn’t really care what you wore, deciding on a simple green dress and minimal accessories. You registered he meant it was a date, but for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to view it more as a casual outing. Once you step out, you expect Jaehoon to be waiting but nope. He was already at the fair, with his friends. They left after you arrived, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t want to be here. You forced a smile at Jaehoon and greeted him, but your eyes were drawn to the carols again. Something about Christmas cheer bringing people together made you giddy. It seemed Jaehoon noticed your stare, because he quickly looked away from you and said in an offhand tone. “Christmas carolling is so overrated. It’s really cringe nowadays.” Your eyes snap up and you try your best not to glare at him. “I guess.” you mutter, shoving past him. The rest of the outing went as imagined. Anything you wanted to do or even look at, Jaehoon would immediately switch the topic onto something else. There was a lot of walking and money spent, but you weren’t having fun. Not fun like you had with-Anyway. As you continued walking, you saw some kids have a snowball fight. Your mind flashed back to what should be called the calm before the storm. It was so fun, and when you fell on top of Minho, the way he looked at you-Your train of thought halts as Jaehoon yells. “Kids! Move out of the fucking way!” you gasp, but the kids scurry away. You turn to look at Jaehoon. “What the hell? They’re kids!” you all but yell, and he seems taken aback. “Kids playing an immature game that’s blocking my baby’s path.” he says, a ridiculously bad attempt at flirting. “First of all. I am not ‘your baby’. They’re kids, playing a game, and you probably ruined their day.” You say, and look at him in disgust. “And mine too, asshat. This was a dumb idea. Forget about taking me to the Gala, son of a bitch” You mutter, walking off, a dumbfounded Jaehoon behind you. As you walked, you realised something. Jaehoon was a nice boy, but really, he was just there at the right place at the right time. You had only said yes because…ah, the ever present Lee Minho. Really, you mostly did all of this for him. Because, once you reach your doorstep, there’s a sinking feeling inside your stomach that knows Ji was right.

You’re really in love with Minho.

Needless to say, both of you had trouble sleeping last night. Each contemplating what to say to the other the next day, which came all too soon. You trudged along the halls with Minho alongside you, because it was lunch. The cafeteria wasn’t full yet, but you barely noticed, your mind consumed with what you planned to say. About your feelings, about your date, about anything. You turn to him, but before you can say anything, he starts to speak. “Listen, Y/n, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have been that upset over some earrings, and assumed I have a right to dictate what you’re allowed to wear.” he says, looking down at you, his eyes pleading. “I don’t know how to make up for it, and you don’t have to forgive me, but I’m really sorry.” he breathed, and when you didn’t say anything, he added “I miss you.” You look up at him. “I really hate it when we’re like this.” you say weakly, your hand instinctively reaching for his, and he takes it. “I hate it too.” he says, giving it a reassuring squeeze. And now, looking into his eyes, his arm in yours, you feel this sense of self confidence. “Do you want to make up for it?” you ask, and he nods eagerly, his eyes curious. “Give me a Christmas miracle.” you say, and he looks at you quizzically. “How?” You take a deep breath. “By being my date to the Christmas Gala.” He was taken aback, his hand slipping from yours. All the previous self confidence was diminished at Minho’s reaction, Yusun’s words repeating in your head. He’d never want someone like you anyway. And it looked like she was right. Well, you thought she was, until you felt Minho’s lips on yours.

You stood, frozen for a moment as Minho kissed you, gently but with burning passion that stunned you. You could barely register his lips over yours, your heart beating right out of your chest. He pulled away, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was too far, sorry, I-“ this time, you cut him off, kissing him hard, your hands looping around his neck. He kissed you back with equal ferocity, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. Your hands moved up, playing with his hair, while he grabbed your waist possessively, like he never wanted to let go. Unfortunately, oxygen is necessary for the human body, but as they broke apart for air, they were interrupted by a loud screech. “YOU LIKE MINHO?! BUT I THOUGHT HE WAS MINE!” Yusun squawked, pushing through the crowd in the cafeteria and walking out. Which is when you realise that there were a lot of people who just witnessed you kiss. Like the whole damn school. Minho’s friends jeered him and cheered him on, with a few of your friends wolf whistling jokingly. Your eyes were drawn to Ji, a smirk on her face. Triumph. You laughed a little, but then your smile faded when you realised that if Yusun and Ji were here, then it was only a matter of time before-“Y/n? This is who you left me for?” Jaehoon yelled, suddenly right in front of you. Minho stepped forward, but you waved him off. This was your fight. “Not really, but it was a large part of the reason.” you say, rolling your eyes as he gaped at you. “Come on, I’m so much better!” he whined like a five year old, and the need to berate him like a toddler grew stronger. “That’s for me to decide, dickhead.” you say coolly, your eyes narrowing, and the audience laughed. Embarrassed, Jaehoon used the worst trick in the book. “You switch guys so easily. No wonder, you were always a damn whore.” Everyone gasped, and Minho made a lunge for Jaehoon, but you got to him first. You punched him straight in the face, with gasps and laughs from the audience. He got up, his nose a mess, his upper lip bleeding. He practically ran out, and you turned to Minho, who was looking at you with a mixture of fear and admiration. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” he said, and you laughed, nodding, as you left the cafeteria.

Fast forward to the Christmas Gala. You quite literally spent hours getting ready, trying to find the perfect dress, flawless make up and stunning accessories. Finally, you were satisfied with how you looked. You walked outside, where Ninho was waiting for you. His breath caught in his throat. You were wearing an A line sparkling red dress with a white feather train, a silver necklace framing your collarbone. Your hair was curled, falling down your back, your makeup light but enchanting. “You look-“ Minho breathed, his eyes taking over your body as he held out his hand. “Beautiful.” You blushed, taking his hand as you got into the car. By the time you arrived, the party was in full swing, everyone was dancing or drinking. You walked in, hand in hand with Minho. Ji pulls you to the dance floor almost immediately, babbling something about best friends before boyfriends. As you danced, you felt a sense of satisfaction. You had the perfect boyfriend, the best friends, and most importantly, just enough love for both of them. As the adrenaline dimmed, a slow song came on. After dancing for a while, you finally feel familiar fingers on your waist, pulling you closer. “May I have this dance?” Minho asked lightly, his eyes shining. “You may.” you giggled, and took his hand, placing one on his shoulder. Both of you swayed silently, simply entranced in each other. It was the comfortable kind of silence where no one felt the need to fill it with unnecessary words. As the music and the party came to an end, you spoke softly, leaning into Minho’s ear. “I love you.” you whisper, kissing him on the cheek softly. Before you know it, his lips are on yours again. A gentle kiss, barely more than a peck, but it makes you blush nonetheless. “I love you too.” he said, barely pulling away. You laughed as he looked at you like an excited puppy. And as you look into his eyes, you come to a conclusion.

“This is the best Christmas miracle I could have asked for!”

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If you liked my fic, please comment and reblog! I love hearing what you think!

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER NINE

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

‘The Return of Tess Kennedy’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

APRIL 6, 2025

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

You and me, same time next year?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Locked you down,” Paige says.

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

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

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

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

“You’re amazing, and I love you.”

Paige sighs. “Where’s the ‘but?’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tess only smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

APRIL 14, 2025

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Happily Ever Draft-er’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

[everythingseasoning]

love, forever?

Vampire! Suguru x reader

impulsively started writing vampire! Suguru x reader, with a blooming rivalry between Satoru & reader for Suguru’s attention. oh, and there’s new vampire lore, and angst: Suguru can’t bear to hurt reader when his human blood cravings flare up, so he breaks up with reader. we start off the story with heartbroken reader, and the emotionally oblivious, playful, talented and sexy vampire! Satoru going after reader (for reasons you’ll learn about in chapter 1). this story kinda has parallels to Geto’s canon angst as well. eventual smut.

Ch. 01 Teaser

NOTE: if you saw the teaser already, please feel free to read the following again, as I’ve edited it a lot and added in more juicy dialogue & scenes ;)

The drink is nothing short of young and dumb, the blend of tooth-rottingly sweet flavors hitting your taste buds as you stare holes into Suguru’s back. You can see the sculpture of his muscles and beautiful bones through his tight tee, your ex’s sculpted body turned away from you. He’s speaking to a girl you had heard about— the life of all parties, pretty, smart, and fun. You take another swig from the plastic blue cup, hoping the heaviness in your heart would be soon forgotten. Yogurt, sherbert, coca cola, and cheap alcohol would be your poison of the night, you think, swallowing down the concoction as tears prick your eyes.

“Another one of those people who drinks their troubles away?”

The voice amidst the bass and booming music causes you to turn, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. Snowy hair rests soft and thick on his head, your heart skipping a beat to see such a beautiful stranger.

If you were being honest, you weren’t in the mood to talk to somebody else— not when your heart was still tied right onto Suguru’s. You love Suguru, you really do. The recent past haunts your every waking moment. And even in your dreams, he’s there, smiling, chuckling as you braid his hair, reading a nonfiction book while your fingers thread his silky locks; He’s watching you with a fond smile as you run ahead of him in the campus garden, jumping amongst the flowers; Holding you as the two of you kiss— his soft, supple lips meeting yours in that familiar dance and tangle. In your dreams he’s still yours. You both made up. In your dreams, things are warm and right again.

When you wake up in an empty bed, with an aching heart, it just feels cruel. The light slipped away again. You thought you had it. You had your dream come true only to realize it was just that— a fucking dream. There’s no respite from the memory of all his adoration, thoughtful gestures, all the times you’d stare mesmerized as he sat focused, his eyebrows pinched as he worked… The way he felt when you were wrapped in his embrace— being fucking cared for— you missed him bad, with every fiber of your being.

He’s still all you can think about. You’re at this damned college party because, even a month after he’d broken up with you, all you wanted was to be close to him, to see him. It’s pathetic. Knowing he’d be here, knowing you’d be tearing your heart open again, the wound freshly cut back open— and still, you came here. How many times had you stalked his social media despite having been removed from his following?

“Cat got your tongue?” The beautiful stranger breaks you out of your thoughts, forcing a reply.

“No—” you start to say, raising your voice. It’s just barely audible over the clamor of the party.

“Really?” He butts in, raising an eyebrow. “‘Cause it seems like there’s some hard evidence against your statement.” His small smile is as unconventional as it is disarming.

“And you are?”

“Satoru Gojo, if you haven’t heard about me already. I go to a different university. A better one.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “And why would I know of you?”

The stranger, Satoru, just tilts his head ever so slightly, his smile unwavering as he replies, “Your head is under a rock, is what I heard you say.”

Confusion flits across your face before your mouth falls open slightly, a feigned look of offense stretched on your features. You feel like ignoring this pesky stranger. You glance away for a second, in search of Suguru’s back— the spot he’d been standing in holds a different person, somebody you don’t know, somebody you’re not at all interested in. You frown, scanning the crowd.

The stranger, Satoru, waves a hand in front of your face. You look up at him, annoyed.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What? Need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?”

“That’s an overused line,” You shout back, the music so loud you can barely hear yourself. Your attention shifts away from the snowy haired man, back to the sea of party goers. You desperately search the throng of buzzing chaos. No sign of Suguru. Just dancing, mingling, kissing, drinking, the typical activities going on under the strobe lights. Fuck.

Suguru, where did you go? Please… Your heart feels like it’s a rock in your stomach. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking her right now in somebody’s bedroom. It’s not my business— but I can’t stand the thought of it—

Satoru chuckles, and you look back at him, unable to hide your expression of pain. You’re about to excuse yourself to find a bathroom to cry in, when he speaks again.

“You’re right. How should I flirt, hm? Wanna coach me? It’ll lift your blues, too,” His smirk would’ve had you folding had you not met Suguru. But you did cross paths with the raven-haired man— collided and intertwined, more like— and now nobody compares to him. Nobody would ever be him.

“Not really. Excuse me,” you begin to say, before turning slightly, about to slip away—

“Suguru is my best friend,” the stranger says.

You freeze, whipping around now to face Satoru.

“He told me about you— first time he ever told me about anyone, actually. Suguru said you were somebody he actually loved.” Satoru’s cheeky expression has been wiped off, replaced with one of aloof nonchalance and detachment. It’s almost eerie, but your attention is elsewhere.

You’re at a loss for words, eyes caught on Satoru’s, hanging onto everything he says like maybe, just maybe, it means that Suguru wants you back.

“He’s had his fair share of flings and hookups, after all.” Satoru teases, smirking again, bending down to your level.

“I thought I was losing my best friend to a weakling.” His breath is surprisingly chilly against your face. “Turns out you were never the one. Sucks that you couldn’t make him stay.” You feel everything shatter. “Sucks for you, I mean,” Satoru finishes. He leaves out the part where he gloats about being the one Suguru has always admired, and stuck with.

You’re shocked, mouth hanging open. Confusion, hurt, anger, betrayal— all the feelings clash like giant waves crashing against one another inside your heart.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Satoru grins, shrugging. “It means what it means. But I’m curious,” he says, leaning closer, his pearly teeth glinting red under the strobe lights, “What is it about you that had Suguru caught up on ya?” His lips graze your cheek, his voice in your ear. “I don’t get it.”

You slap him before you can realize what you’re doing. Violence is not the answer, but this time, it sure as hell felt like it. Your fingers sting, your panicked thoughts a running train. Did I just? Oh my god! I didn’t— I fucking did—

“I— I’m sorry—” you stammer quickly, eyes wide in shock at your own actions. Satoru is eerily emotionless, staring down at you with those startling ocean eyes. You shiver despite the heat.

“Hm.”

It’s all he says. You open your mouth to speak again, blinking—

And he’s gone.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A swig of the liquor causes the liquid to slosh in the green bottle.

“Thought you liked shy girls, Suguru?” Satoru pokes, a red handprint on his cheek. He’s kicked back on the couch outside the bathroom, grimacing when the alcohol hits his tongue, spitting it out back into the bottle.

“I do,” Suguru replies calmly, a streak of bare skin showing amidst the shaving cream on his face. He runs the razor back down, taking off more of the fluffy white foam.

“Yeesh. Can’t believe we used to drink this shit,” Satoru sticks his tongue on dramatically, tossing the full glass of alcohol across the room. It lands right in the trash bin with a clang. “That’s where it belongs,” he huffs.

“So?” Satoru prompts, kicking his feet up. “You realize she doesn’t fit your ideal type, right? Why’d you get with her for a whole year, man?”

“She was shy at first,” Suguru says softly, a glint of something like pain in his eyes. He catches Satoru’s gaze on him in the mirror and the glint disappears. Satoru doesn’t notice, now peeling open a candy from its foil wrapper. “And I told you already, Satoru,” Suguru continues, sparing his friend an exasperated glance. “I love— loved her.” A blip. A mistake so quickly covered that if it was anyone but Satoru, they’d miss.

Blue eyes pierce Suguru.

“But it wasn’t going to work out. Love isn’t meant for us. You and I… We’re not meant to be with humans,” Suguru murmurs, looking at his face in the mirror. It was myth that vampires didn’t have reflections. They did. Something the myths forgot though— vampires always have some sort of change written in their eyes. There will be some sort of difference from their human form, hidden in their eyes, after they turn. Suguru touches his eyebags, dark and heavy. That’s not what changed. No. His warm, earthy brown eyes had turned purple the night Satoru turned him. Rich amethyst irises gaze back at Suguru. He wishes he didn’t recognize them. Now he’s stuck dealing with people commenting on his “cool contacts,” for the rest of eternity. Suguru exhales deeply, softly, his still, dead heart aching.

“Being undead with a vital thirst for human blood will do that,” Satoru ho-hums, blissfully unaware of the insensitive nature of his obliviousness.

Suguru is silent, continuing to shave, but the blade knicks his skin. He curses quietly.

“So,” Satoru speaks with the chocolate melting on his tongue, grateful that at least his cravings and delight in sweets didn’t change when they turned, “You don’t trust yourself to be around her without hurting her. But you were with her for a year, doing well for a year. What do you say changed?”

Suguru dabs at the blood dripping down his otherwise unmarked face. It would heal, his skin would be perfectly smooth again in a day, not a trace of his mistake, or scar, would remain. All wounds heal within 24 hours for vampires.

“My urges got insatiable. Blood bags weren’t enough,” Suguru says curtly. Despite the battle of breaking up with you being long over, Suguru’s mind is a war zone. I couldn’t even look at her… without… needing to taste her blood. His fists clench on the marble sink. It got bad. I almost hurt her.

Satoru stares at his best friend, knowing that in this silence, his mind is a maelstrom. Suguru sees Satoru’s unflinching gaze, but remains quiet. He knows his friend won’t understand.

Satoru presses on anyway, nodding like he’s bored.

“Right. You can’t suppress your urges right now. That happened to me too. The second year is the hardest.” Satoru was the one who turned Suguru, after all. “It helps when you just feed on multiple pretty girls a night and compel them all to forget. You could’ve had both, you know. Her and human blood from others. You’re so mopey now.” Satoru’s callous remark piques Suguru’s irritation, a flame of anger burning in the raven-haired man’s chest.

“I won’t do that and be in a relationship.”

“I saw you feeding on that random chick an hour ago. But you’re still grumpy. You move around like you’re actually dead, Suguru. You torture yourself by still caring about your ex. She’s nothing special. I don’t get it.” Ah. The truth comes out.

Suguru’s eyebrows knit, his mouth pressed into a firm line as something dark flickers in his eyes.

“Satoru. First off, I only feed when they consent first. We both do that, and compel them to forget. And my ex, she has a name, and she’s worth something even if you can’t see it. Just shut up.”

“And what worth do you see in her?”

Suguru is silent for a moment. How could he convey the light and warmth that you were in his life? He’d died twice, once literally, once figuratively, and yet— you brought him back. “…She’s… good.”

“And?”

Suguru’s temper flares. “You just don’t get it, so will you just leave it?” He snarls, fangs involuntarily popping out.

“You’re such a grouch nowadays,” Satoru huffs, before popping another chocolate into his mouth. He gets up, stretching.

“Well. I need to feed again.”

“Be safe about it. And I’m not referring to your safety,” Suguru says sternly, his whole head turned to look at Satoru now, some white foam still on the man’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, mom, I got it.” With that, Satoru pulls his black coat over his lean, muscled body, a wolfish grin on his face as he slips out the apartment door.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You’re intoxicated. It’s two AM and you’re stumbling around campus like a fucking idiot.

Well how about that? Satoru spies you from across the quad, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. His veins buzz with electricity, and he knows: he is still very much alive despite the coldness to his skin, the lack of a heartbeat in his chest. What else could you call the rush, the thrill he’s got right now, except living? His urge to feed has grown exponentially.

He slips through the shadows.

You nearly jump when a tall, dark figure appears before you, looming over you.

Snowy hair shines in the lamplight, blue eyes flashing like glaciers, staring right at you. You swear they flash red for a second.

“You again?” You slur your words. You aren’t scared. He’s Suguru’s best friend, which means he by extension must be a good guy. Almost as if he hears your thoughts, Satoru grins. His teeth are brilliant, his canines shining ivory and glistening like expensive accessory jewels.

If Satoru was being honest, this was perfect. The golden chance to get Suguru to forget about you and move on, so his best friend could finally look and be alive again, the two of them happily slaying the vampires that hurt humans— this chance just seems to have fallen into Satoru’s hands like a magic star that grants his wish.

“Hey,” he nearly purrs, slinking around you as you take a step forward— stumbling a bit— cold fingers grip you firmly, holding you upright.

“You’re fucking making me freeze even more!” You retort, snapping at him as you yank your warm arm away from his cool grasp. You were more than tipsy, but you recalled his rudeness from earlier.

“Just trying to help. You sure aren’t shy, huh?” Satoru remarks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You spit out, the question giving you both Deja vu.

“It means what it means,” Satoru grins. Deja-fucking-vu. You were getting fed up now, huffing and mumbling under your alcohol-tinged breath an insult that Satoru’s super hearing picks up on. He stifles a laugh.

“Wait,” Satoru calls out. You don’t turn around or slow your pace. He strides up to you in two quick, lengthy steps. He bends, entering your vision, his teeth sharp and protruding from his close lipped smile. Were they always that long?

“I’m great at reading people. And as much as you want to deny it, your heart is beating faster around me.” He suppresses his urge to poke your ribcage, directly over the beating muscle.

“Shut up,” you growl.

“You could make me, you know.”

He keeps up with your sluggish pace as you try to make your way back to the dorms, struggling to reply.

“There you go again with that cliche flirting,” you snort.

“And here I am again, asking if you’re offering lessons. Though the better question would be if you’re even qualified to give them,” Satoru grins.

“What do you want from me? Don’t you think it’s weird to be flirting with your best friend’s ex?”

You think this will shut him up. That, or he’ll have a lame excuse. And for the first time in this second conversation you’re having with him, his answer changes.

“If I’m being honest,” he speaks in a rich, velvety, low voice, and you almost feel entranced, your feed stopping, your gaze resting on Satoru. “I’m doing this for him. And about what I want?”

You sway in the chilly night breeze, barely registering anything but the sound of his voice.

“I want to know if you’d let me bite you.”

Edited version found here! (More dialogue and scenes :)

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Do not plagiarize my writing in any way. Do not feed my writing to ai.

[icbgwy]

the way things go ꕥ riki nishimura

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⎯‎⎯‎⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀ball busters

ni-ki ( rkimura ) 니키

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀ni-ki, co-captain of the school’s basketball team along side his close friend, lee heeseung. y/n’s ex childhood best friend before deciding one day to randomly cut her off during the summer before their second year of junior high. although being friends with y/n kept him humble and grounded, without her, he’s become like every stereotypical rich teenager— snobby, arrogant, and entitled.

riki ( nishiki ) 西村 力

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀nishimura riki, only ever always his close friends call him by his real name. uses his private account to vent about his “friends”, soyeon and jihoon or be the person he actually is away from the judgment of soyeon and jihoon. only three people follow— heeseung, jake, and his main account. riki refuses to acknowledge that he and y/n have mutual friends, only passingly greeting her when she’s speaking with jake or minji, never holding an actual conversation with her.

heeseung ( lehsng ) 이희승

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀lee heeseung, riki’s close friend and fellow basketball teammate. co-captain along side riki due to the coach being super adamant that riki had too many distractions in his life to truly be committed to the team. he’s levelheaded and the only voice of reasoning in riki’s life. likes to watch jake flirt with girls, especially y/n, thinking it’s funny.

jake ( simyun ) 심재윤

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀sim ‘jake’ jaeyun, riki’s biggest instigator and close teammate, he’s super into anything spiritual. at first was using it as a bit to pick up girls at the school but quickly fell fascinated by the concept. shortest guy on the basketball team and never hears the end of it. fails miserably at trying to be a playboy like his friends, riki and heeseung. classmates with y/n, jokingly flirts with her but ends up getting rejected.

ִ ࣪ 𖦹 物事の進み方 ָ ࣪ ׅ

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notes: off topic but i want to write for squid games lowkey…

summary: at the start of his senior year, riki nishimura notices that everything feels off—his basketball skills are slipping, and his usual charm with girls has vanished. desperate for answers, he follows his co-captain heeseung's joking advice and visits a local shaman. she reveals the source of his bad luck: major karmic debt. to regain his balance, riki must make amends for his broken and abandoned childhood friendship with the one girl who truly knew him, y/n matsuzaki.

tag list ( open ): @tasnemluvs @elegancefr @jiiyen @skepvids @enhypenlovre @mylettterstoyou @delirioastral @who-tf-soddhi @aespaqq @nat123c @nodoubtily @right-person-wrong-time @beijinkaoya @awhrin

[blessedbyahuntress]

Sword Through the Heart

A/N: This is actually insane. I had so many mixed feelings while writing this (and yes, I woke up at two AM just to write this) and the last part is actually just so sad???? 😭😭😭

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Daughter!of!Demeter!Reader

Warnings: Angst, major character death, blood, and possibly some swearing??? I forgot

Word Count: 2.9k

(Before the events of The Lightning Thief)

You’d always loved your mother.

The kind and caring woman you knew to be Demeter was always looking out for you. She gave you your first weapon to protect yourself as your satyr guided you to Camp Half-Blood- two curved scimitars that gleamed in the sunlight and turned to two silver bracelets with gold pendants when you touched the hilts together. It was with these you killed your first monster.

It was your first week at camp, and your first time sleeping in Cabin Four; you’d been claimed during capture the flag that afternoon, after stealing your opponent’s flag all by yourself.

You replayed the scene in your head, holding a pillow close to your chest. There weren’t a lot of Demeter kids- your mother wasn’t really the social type- and that meant that the head councilor allowed two beds to be shoved together for extra slumbering space. Unfortunately you couldn’t sleep.

You wandered around the border, helmet tucked under your arm. To everyone you were just another kid to place at random and use as a distraction. No one really expected anything of you. 

And you used that to your advantage.

You knelt close to the ground, brushing your fingertips against the moss. You seemed to draw strength from the plant.

There was a screech from the other side of the boundary, and you winced. It sounded like the Hephaestus kids caught a Stoll brother in their traps.

You narrowed your eyes at the river. The stones normally used to cross it were farther away than you had time to run to, so instead you followed your instincts. You dipped a foot into the water, but your combat boot didn’t stay wet for long; the reeds that grew at the bottom of the riverbed reached toward the surface and lifted you up with them. 

You hopped onto the other side of the border. You paused only for a moment, looking behind you as you left your designated area. 

“They won’t miss me,” you murmured to yourself before taking off.

But someone had watched your disappearance. Luke was furious of course- he didn’t like it when people strayed from their posts- yet he also felt a little impressed.

He would follow you, but only from a distance. 

The wind ran its cold fingers through your hair, and you nearly laughed with delight before remembering that you were in your opponents territory. 

Heart still beating fast, you slowed to a walk. The Hephaestus cabin surely had traps set everywhere, so you narrowed your eyes at anything suspicious and avoided it. 

And then you reached Zeus’s fist. A couple of Aphrodite and Apollo kids were supposed to be guarding it, but they were mainly just flirting with each other. You rolled your eyes as you heard a few cheesy pickup lines getting tossed around. 

You quietly touched the gold pendants together, your two deadly-looking scimitars springing into existence only a moment later.

An Apollo kid, one that was actually paying attention, seemed to tense. He aimed his bow in your general direction and shot. 

You watched the arrow sail above your head. 

You rose from where you had been crouching. “Is that all you got?” You asked teasingly, eyebrows raised. 

“No,” came the muttered reply of the Apollo boy. He notched another arrow.

You lunged into battle, scimitars moving so fast, they had to have a mind of their own. Arrows came from every direction, but the only one that touched you only cut a slit in your jeans. 

You started with the Aphrodite kids, planting a foot in one of their stomach’s before whirling around to sweep a leg out from under another girl. A boy came at you, dagger raised, but you could tell he didn’t know how to use it. You gave him a pitying look as you disarmed him with one scimitar, the other cutting an arrow out of the air. 

You turned your attention to the Apollo kids, but growled in frustration when you realized they had retreated to a safer distance to shoot you from.

‘Screw it,’ you thought, touching the hilts of your scimitars together. You scrambled up the rocks, taking the flag just in time to block an arrow with it. 

You ran back toward the border. You could hear Apollo kids shouting for backup, but you didn’t glance back. There were probably so many Ares kids on your trail by then.

The river was in sight.

A spear soared past your ear. You concentrated, soaking your power into the ground. A tree branch a few feet ahead of you curled its leaves around the weapon, suspending it in place until you leaped up to grab it. 

You didn’t notice the glowing wheat symbol above your head.

Your little plant bridge was still there, but you had enough momentum to just jump across. 

You skidded to a stop, breathing heavily. You managed to raise the flag in triumph before promptly handing it to Luke, who seemed to materialize right beside you.

Your eyes locked for the tiniest of moments, and you felt a shock run through you. The Hermes boy cleared his throat, opening his mouth. “You-”

Whatever he was going to say, he didn’t get a chance to finish. 

The conch shell blew, signaling the end of the game. “Hail, Y/N L/N, Daughter of Demeter!” You heard Chiron boom before your vision had been overwhelmed by your siblings coming to welcome you and teammates going to congratulate you on winning the game.

Luke stood back, a small smile on his lips. You were far more outstanding than any of the Ares of Athena kids. 

You made up your own category, he decided. Y/N L/N’s were a different kind of amazing.

Before you knew it, the memory turned into a dream as you slipped peacefully into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time you encountered Luke, you were holding a blade to his throat. 

You yelped as you realized who it was, dropping your hand almost immediately.

You had come out for a midnight stroll through the forest, not caring about the monsters who lurked in the shadows of the vegetation. As the new head counselor of the Demeter cabin, you had many new responsibilities, and could not afford stable duty if you accidentally decapitated the counselor of the Hermes cabin.

“Sorry,” you said roughly, offering your hand to him. Luke gladly accepted, dusting off his pants as he stood.

You turned and started to walk farther into the woods. 

“Wait!” 

You turned your head slightly, giving Luke a confused look. “What?” You asked.

He jogged to catch up with you, ducking a tree branch as you moved it out of your way with simply a command spoken in your mind. Luke would never tell you how cool he thought your powers were, instead aiming to be the same airy, confident, and cocky boy he was before you came into his life and stomped all over his ego.

“Why’re you out here this late?” Luke questioned, slowing to match your pace. 

You released a breath. “I had to get out of there for a second.”

“Ah.” Luke nodded with understanding. “Can’t stand your siblings? Or is it the responsibility?”

You sighed. “I could never hate my siblings,” you said quietly. “It’s just the pressure of having to be a role model.”

Luke’s mind tried to find a response.

“I’m just used to being in the shadows,” you continued. “Sometimes because I want to, other times because I’m just ignored.” You barked a laugh as you looked at the demigod walking beside you. The moonlight glinted in his eyes, and the only sign of a hard life was the scar running down the side of his face. “You never have a problem with that, I’m sure.”

“Oh?” Luke tilted his head. 

You wrinkled your nose. “I mean- yes, you have to deal with quests and being the camp’s ‘Golden Boy’, but do you understand the true art of being ignored? Do you understand what that can do to someone? ‘Cause I think you don’t.”

Luke kept his head tilted, as if actually considering your questions. You snorted before falling into a comfortable silence.

At least, comforting for you. Not for Luke. As much as he liked the quiet, he preferred getting to know you better.

“So…” He started. “What’s your favorite color?”

You stopped, turning to give him a look that clearly said, what the hell?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You settled next to Luke.

The campfire roared, the golden flames higher than you’ve ever seen them. The warmth radiating off of the fire was almost too hot, but you were too tired to move to sit next to Annabeth. 

You rested your head on Luke’s shoulder, yawning. You and Luke had become best friends despite your differences. Since last week, when he’d started calling you, “Sunshine” and “Weed Wrangler”, you’d opted to call him “Cocky Jerk”. He seemed fine with that.

Luke watched as you drifted off to sleep on his shoulder. 

He was pretty sure he had a crush on you.

Luke tried to ignore the fluttering he got in his stomach whenever he was near you. He buried his feelings deep down inside him; he knew he had to leave soon anyway.

“What’re you looking at,” you muttered.

Okay. So apparently you weren’t as asleep as Luke thought you were.

“You,” he answered shamelessly.

You raised your eyebrows. “Wait!” You yelped, patting your face. “Do I have marshmallows on my nose again?”

Luke snorted in amusement before lifting your chin with two fingers. He’d gotten taller than you over the last few weeks, a fact that annoyed you. It continued to annoy you further when you realized you found it attractive. 

“No.” He leaned down. “Just admiring your pretty little face.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Oh shut up, you Cocky Jerk,” you murmured.

Luke dropped his voice. “I think you like it when I flirt with you.” It was more a statement, as if he already knew he was right. 

“Not a chance,” you said. 

His hand gripped your chin now. Not hard, of course. He would never forgive himself if he wasn’t anything but gentle with you. He dipped his head down so your noses were nearly touching. You felt your breath hitch.

“So this bothers you?” He whispered.

“Oi!”

Both of you whirled around so fast, Luke’s lips tickled against your cheek. If you weren’t already red, you were sure you were a tomato by now. 

Of course it was Connor Stoll. 

“Lovebirds!” He called. “Take it somewhere else, please!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(During the events of The Last Olympian)

The Empire State Building.

You hadn’t been up here since you saved Artemis. 

You followed Grover, Thalia, Annabeth, and Percy out of the elevator, and cracks immediately appeared at your feet.

“Jump!” Grover cried, hopping to the next slab of white stone. 

Percy grabbed Thalia’s hand and leaped after Grover. “Gods, I hate heights!” You heard her scream as they jumped over the chasm. 

Annabeth was in no shape for jumping. You looked down as more cracks appeared in the stone beneath you. You took in a shaky breath and grabbed both of the daughter of Athena’s hands. 

You lunged for the next slab, managing to throw Annabeth into Percy before gripping the side of the lab with one hand. 

Your feet were dangling in open air, gravity pulling at them. 

“Thalia!” You cried. 

The hunter grabbed your hand with both of hers. She let out a grunt, and then Grover was there, grabbing your other flailing hand. They lifted you onto the stone beside Annabeth. 

“Keep moving!” Grover grabbed your shoulder and hoisted you to your feet, Percy doing the same with Annabeth. 

The five of you sprinted across the skybridge, more cracks underfoot. 

When you made it to the other side, you glanced back at the elevator which hung there, suspended by nothing. 

“We’re marooned,” Annabeth whispered. “On our own.”

You nodded before taking off. You didn’t have time to stand there, talking about the final end of Olympus. You had to get to Luke.

Ahead of you, you heard Kronos’s booming voice. “Brick by brick! That was my promise! Tear it down brick by brick!” There was an explosion, but you didn’t pull your eyes toward the noise, instead keeping your eyes trained on the ground beneath you. 

“That was a shrine to Artemis,” Thalia muttered. “He’ll pay for that.” Still, you kept running.

You ran through a marble archway, complete with statues of your least favorite god and goddess- Zeus and Hera.  

The mountain began shaking, and with a loud crash, you finally turned around. 

“Thalia!” Grover cried.

You rushed back to your friend, already digging some ambrosia out of your pocket. The daughter of Zeus was trapped, squirming under the weight of a statue of Hera. 

You handed her a piece as Annabeth said, “It’s Hera! She’s had it in for me all year. Her statue would’ve killed me if you hadn’t pushed us away!”

Thalia took the piece of ambrosia; there was probably a broken leg under all of that rubble. She gave you a grateful look, popping it in her mouth. “Thanks, Y/N,” she said. “But I’ll be fine. Go!”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. You turned and sprinted to the hall of the gods.

Kronos stood in the middle of the throne room, arms spread wide. You froze. All you could see was Luke, all you could see were your memories of him. The first time he’d talked to you, your first kiss, your last kiss. Luke, Luke, Luke, Luke, Luke.

“Finally!” Kronos bellowed. “The Olympian Council! So proud and mighty! Which seat of power shall I destroy first?”

Annabeth, Percy, and Grover all took a few steps forward, while you stood back, watching Luke- Kronos- with a horrified expression.

“My lord,” the boy- Ethan Nakamura, you remembered- warned.

Kronos turned around. He looked exactly like Luke had when he’d started talking to you. Annabeth let out a strangled sound, yet you focused on his eyes, the only thing not Luke. You felt unconsumed rage boil inside you as he said, “shall I destroy you first, Jackson? Is that the choice you will make? To fight me and die instead of bowing down? Prophecies never end well, you know.”

You stepped forth, eyes glinting with fury. “Luke would fight with a sword,” you said. “But I suppose you don’t have his skill.”

Kronos sneered at you. “You’re not worth my time-” 

You cut him off with a throwing knife bouncing off his shoulder. Kronos blinked, and for a moment he was Luke, staring down at the blade in surprise, then up at the thrower. “Y/N?” he asked in a raspy voice, before his eyes flickered gold again.

Kronos barked a laugh. “Very well, L/N. You will be the first to die!” 

You summoned your scimitars with deadly calm. 

Kronos charged, and you sidestepped. The fight was more like two tornados meeting each other head on. Your skills were too well balanced. 

Kronos backed you up into Hephaestus’s throne. Sorry, you thought. Hephaestus had always been one of your favorite gods- mostly because he tried to interact with demigods every once and a while.

You hopped onto the throne. You already knew that standing on a mechanic’s seat would get ugly for more than three seconds. Defense mode, the throne murmured, only confirming your knowledge. 

You sprang over Kronos’s head, but as your back was turned, you felt a pain in your lower back. You looked down, eyes clouded with more confusion than pain. 

Sticking out of your lower back, was a sword tip, or more specifically, the tip of Backbiter. Luke had quite literally stabbed you in the back.

“Y/N?” 

You collapsed onto your knees, hands shaking as you grasped the ground with your fingertips. You gasped, the agony finally catching up to you. 

“Oh, gods.” You felt someone’s hands caress the sides of your face. You looked up into Luke’s eyes, tearstained and no longer golden. 

“What have I done?” He whispered. 

Your blood formed a perfect circle around you and Luke. The sounds of Percy battling Ethan seemed far away. 

You gave him a weak smile. “You did what you had to do,” you mumbled, stumbling over your words as you felt yourself slipping away. 

Your gaze was intense, holding Luke’s eyes with every ounce of dignity you could muster. 

“I love you.” Were your last words before life faded from your eyes.

Luke felt himself lose everything. He wailed, a screech that he had no control over, a heartbroken sound that just came tumbling out of his mouth. Tears welled up in his vision, blocking his sight of Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Ethan turning to see who had just made such a sound. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry, Y/N! Please come back.” He stroked your hair, the same hair he’d run his finger through countless times.

Only now he realized this would be the last.

[vaaaaaiolet]

real quick before i let liz break my heart again as i write this reblog:

we will need that energy going forward because this was painfully time-period accurate. and also WONDERFULLY written.

i don't usually read f/f fics, but you mentioned once this was one of your favs and it didn't take me long to find out why. take your fast car is written with a very endearing, honest narrative voice that i think couldn't have come from a place other than very close to your heart.

THIS FIC SHOULD BE A MOVIE!!

beautiful. clear. SO witty. your writing put me seamlessly into reader's shoes. GAHH the buildup leading up to the party, the dreams, the growing feelings that reader definitely, for sure, must be hallucinating for her coworker because who wouldn't feel that way for leah??

the heartfelt progression of reader's relationship with leah, from admired coworker to acquaintance and "friend" to something possibly more, echoed high school tropes so much that i cheered when spin the bottle started!! and the 7 minutes from heaven segment AGHHGGHS MY HEART side note i adore how you wrote chris :,)

THE AFTERMATH.

the sting of leah's supposed rejection hit me in the heart. i was wondering right along with reader, did any of that mean anything to her?? and the BREAK ROOM FIGHT OH MY GOSH i got snapped right back to that daunting grade school feeling of fear. you had my eyes PEELED to every word of that scene.

bittersweet endings are my very favorite. this fic had one that i'll be thinking about for a long time. hetero love is beyond privileged to not have to deal with the fear of societal rejection a queer relationship can bring.

"Wait," she says, and you turn to face her one last time. "Before you go, I wanted to tell you that I… I lo-" "I know," you say, cutting her off. "Don't say it." You climb into your car, but before closing the door, you say, "but just so you know, I would've said it back."

the sunset line right above the sunset lesbian flag divider??? i don't know if that was intentional but WOW that had me swallowing lumps in my throat.

absolutely phenomenal work as always, liz, and i felt every drop of love you poured into writing this fic. i hope all your sunsets are just as beautiful as your prose :)

take your fast car and keep on driving

pairing: fem! leon kennedy (aka leah) x reader

cw: wlw, use of homophobic slurs, obscure resident evil characters (no, i did not just make all of those names up), angst, light smut, forbidden love, secret relationship.

summary: you are a rookie in the rpd, and so is leah (re2r leon but as a woman). you like her but you know you shouldn't pursue a relationship because this is 1998 and you're the cops.

a/n: this is a commission for @porcelainseashore! also, the title is a line from fast car by tracy chapman bc i like to cry to that song (and she's a (presumed to be) queer woman so it seemed to fit).

wc: 5.3k

taglist:

@rigorwhoring

@dilfprayers

@porcelainseashore

@dollita-fawn

@xoxoloveless

@admirxation

@pawrincss

Leah. You've never met anyone quite like her before.

Like you, she's new to the force, fresh out of the police academy. It's the first thing you bond over.

In the break room, she gives you a soft smile while she lingers by the kitchen counter, waiting for her instant coffee to finish brewing. The gurgling of the machine fills the brief silence between you.

"It's your first day too, right?" she says after you attempt a "hey" that comes out as nothing but a heavy exhale.

"Yep." It's all you can come up with.

"You seem nervous."

"A little. You know, don't wanna fuck anything up on my first day." Like this conversation. You keep the last part to yourself.

"Don't worry. It took me like three tries to get the buttons straight on this shirt. Jill- Officer Valentine had to help me fix it."

And somehow you're jealous. Leah seems to have no trouble making friends since she's already getting chummy with a STARS member. You'll be relegated to the losers club while she gets to sit at the cool girls table - if there is such a thing.

Most of your colleagues are men. Lieutenant Marvin Branaugh, your direct superior seems nice enough, Chief Brian Irons is a bit off-putting, though. And the STARS members: Officers Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, Brad Vickers, Richard Aiken, Rebecca Chambers - and of course, Captain Wesker, who reminds you of a cartoon villain in the way he carries himself. Most of them are relatively nice to you. Jill has a hardened exterior but a soft heart; Chris is a typical jock and a natural leader; Brad is a bit of a knucklehead; Richard is his slightly smarter counterpart; and Rebecca, who's even younger than you, is an absolute sweetheart. Not to mention, Forest Speyer, Joseph Frost, Enrico Marini, and Barry Burton. You consider putting pictures of them on flashcards with their names on the back so you can learn them all.

Then, there's Leah who has a certain je ne sais quoi that makes her name stick firmly in your mind.

She walks gracefully, steadily in combat boots identical to yours and her blonde hair sways in time with her steps. Her pants fit perfectly, especially around the ass. But you try not to stare - you feel gross doing so when you catch the guys ogling her when she turns her back to them.

You wonder if they stare at you too when you're training in the gym. Lieutenant Branaugh puts an emphasis on staying fit in case the day comes where you need to chase down criminals or dodge gunshots during a shootout. A significant amount of your day is spent doing paperwork.

But for an hour a day, you do push ups and curl ups and pull ups (in that order) to 98.6 FM or a CD if Chris remembers to bring one down with him.

"Chris," you hear Wesker snap at him, "This music is atrocious. Go get a CD, a good one."

And with an exaggerated huff and the sound of metal weights hitting the hard floor, he does as he's told.

"He's kinda hot," Leah says from next to you while she stretches her calves.

"Who? Chris?"

"Yeah," she says, decidedly.

"You can have him. I'm not into meatheads."

"I'd like to see the head of his meat."

"That's disgusting!"

"Are you going to sit there chatting all day?" Marvin asks. "Or are you going to get in the ring?"

You both shut up and stand up.

There's nothing to fight over, but you can be competitive when you want to be. Leah seems intent on impressing Chris who's half-assing his workout both to stick it to Wesker, who is satisfied by his choosing Made In Heaven, and to watch you and Leah duke it out.

Nobody can resist a little girl-on-girl action. Leah has many things over you - her charm, her beauty, her laugh, and her body when she pins you to the mat. It's one, two, three slaps of her palm against the mat to crown you the loser, but she gets distracted, and only you can see the mask slip because you're staring into her eyes when it happens. You want to drown in her ocean blue eyes. Her pupils widen and then her eyes themselves in response, like she's shocked by her own feelings. And then she shakes herself out of it.

You blink and she's standing again, holding out her hand to help you up. And then, like she was never even there, she's gone, rushing in and out of the locker room so quickly that you don't cross paths despite your lockers being two apart. You, on the other hand, take extra time to consider the possibility that you've hallucinated her existence entirely.

But, does it even matter? 

Leah starts showing up in your dreams. She's the intermission between being completely flunking your math exam and missing your flight to Paris (the recurring stress dreams). One night, you're eating lunch in a cafeteria and she sits across from you. The next, you're at a Halloween party and she wears a sexy cop costume, which is not that far off from her real uniform. It's the third time she shows up that you kiss. It doesn't go any further than that because you wake up to your 7:45 alarm.

What the fuck was that? 

You have a book called The Secret Meanings Behind Your Dreams which was a gag gift from a friend. You flip through the pages and find explanations for dreams about falling, teeth falling out, pregnancy, but none about kissing your coworker. You decide it's better not to dwell on it.

You file the thoughts of her under the category of things that you don’t have the qualifications or the time to psychoanalyze. There’s probably some sort of bullshit Freudian explanation but you have crime to fight (aka paperwork to do).

You’re grateful for the distraction when it approaches you in the Main Hall of the RPD. It's almost the end of your shift when Richard approaches you. Out of all the RPD members, you feel like he's the closest thing to a friend you've got here.

"Do you have any plans this Friday?"

"Work, per usual."

"Well, yeah," he half-laughs, "I do too. But, uh, what about after work?"

"After work, nothing."

"Cool. Brad and I were thinking about seeing a movie and maybe getting drinks, and he also invited Leah, so I think she's coming too."

The mention of Leah makes you perk up. You could give or take the whole going out on the town after a long week of work.

Leah, speaking of Leah, you spot her across the hall, chatting and laughing with Brad and Chris.

"Cool," you say, staring right past Richard.

"So, uh, do you wanna come with?"

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good." It's less an acceptance to his invitation and more giving minimal responses.

Richard says some combination of "cool", "okay", and "see you tomorrow". Or something like that. You wouldn't know because you're barely paying attention to him.

You realize it's a double date when Richard puts his arm around you. You're enthralled with Saving Private Ryan. "It should win Best Picture," you remark later. But it doesn’t. But right now, you try to play off the fact that he startled you with an awkward laugh. The theater is too dark for you to tell if he's blushing or not, but his embarrassed "sorry" says he is. But before he moves away from you, you lean into him, and you swear you can hear him sigh in relief. He's nice. This is nice.

But more importantly, you watched Leah do the same with Brad and she's your leader just as Brad is Richard's.

No, for you, she's your muse. She's the goddess that you pray to. 

When they kiss, you follow suit. He tastes like the buttery popcorn you've both devoured, but it's not bad. It could be worse.

It’s forgettable, washed away by the beer you drink at the dive bar two doors down from the theater. 

"Do you wanna take this back to my place?" Richard asks.

"I would but I have to get up early for church" is the first excuse you can come up with.

Richard seems to believe you, which is most likely because he wants to believe this isn't rejection. "Oh! I didn't know you were religious."

"I am, yeah," you say, and hope the rubber chicken test prepared you for the difficult task of keeping a straight face in a moment like this. You think you notice Leah stifling a laugh across the table because she knows.

But her eyes only flit to yours for a second before Brad asks her the same question.

"I actually have a date to church tomorrow morning," she says, smiling at you.

Brad believes her because he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch. Before the awkwardness permeates too far, they leave together.

"So, church on a Saturday, huh?" Leah asks with a knowing smirk.

Finally, you both exhale the giggles you've been holding in together.

"God," you say, putting your head in your hands, though still laughing, "How long do you think it'll take for them to realize?"

"I dunno." She shrugs and sips her beer. "But hopefully sooner rather than later so I don't have to make up an excuse not to go on a second date."

"No second date for you guys? You seemed to be having a good time back in the movie theater."

She shakes her head. "I was until he started kissing me."

"Bad kisser?"

"Awful. Tongue down my throat and all."

"Ew."

"How about you and Richard?"

You shrug. "He's nice. And his tongue was not down my throat."

"That's good." She leans a little closer, like she's going to reveal a secret to you. "But you don't seem like you like him that much."

"I mean, I like him as a friend."

But nothing more. "Well, I should be going," you say, picking up your purse. "It's getting late, and, as you know, I have church."

"No, you don't." She rolls her eyes. "But you do have brunch."

"I do?"

"Yeah, I'll pick you up around 10:15-10:30? Depending on my hangover."

"Sounds perfect."

You and Leah each devour a plate of waffles in a diner voted Raccoon City's #1 Breakfast Destination '97 according to a poster outside.

"Mm," she ponders the taste of her coffee. "Way better than what the RPD has."

"I'm beginning to think they might just be giving us packets of dirt instead of coffee grounds."

"Where else are they going to put all the dirt they dig up outside?"

"It's so goddamn weird that they have a cemetery. It's like they're expecting us to die."

"I feel like I'm already dead. My head is killing me."

"Mine too. I don't even think I had that much to drink."

"Me neither, and thank god - I wouldn't want to end up in bed with Brad."

"You think you would've gone home with him if you were drunker?"

"Maybe. I tend to make stupid decisions when I'm drunk."

But, so do you - one of which includes playing spin the bottle with the RPD's finest.

"We used to play Kings mostly 'cause no one had a table that we could play beer pong on," Brad says when Chris asks him about high school parties back in his hometown.

"We can play Kings if I can find a deck of cards."

"No, we can't, dumbass, unless you have cans hiding in the back of your fridge," says Forest.

"What do you wanna play, Forest? Spin the bottle?" Chris asks sarcastically.

"I thought spin the bottle was a game made up for movies. I didn't know anyone actually played it," Rebecca chimes in from the corner, holding a soda rather than a beer because she 'felt bad drinking underage' even though Chris offered her one.

"You bet your ass people actually play it," Chris says. "How else would you kiss your crush when you're an awkward 15 year old?"

"Truth or dare," she says with a roll of her eyes to say it should be obvious.

"We could play truth or dare," Brad suggests.

"No, we should play spin the bottle," says Forest.

"If you wanna kiss me that bad you can just ask," Chris says.

"Why don't we play both? Then, if the bottle doesn't decide in Forest's favor, he can dare Chris to kiss him," Jill says.

"I'll remember to pick truth in that case."

You play spin the bottle first, which results in Forest giving Richard a peck on the lips, Richard passing it on to Brad, who goes for more than a peck with Jill, and Jill, pulling swiftly away from him, kisses Leah.

And it comes to Leah who lands on you. Of course she does. The first kiss is chaste, but when you take your turn and the bottle lands on her, it barely falls short of passionate.

The bottle is Leah's again and if it were possible to rig this game you might've believed someone had because it points in your direction.

A collective - and juvenile - "ooh" comes from the group. It's the same one you hear from a classroom of 7th graders when a teacher tells a student they need to "speak to them".

Rebecca, clueless, asks, "What?"

"They have to play 7 minutes in heaven."

"What's 7 minutes in heaven?"

"The two people have to go into a separate room for 7 minutes and they can do whatever they want."

Leah looks at you, you look at her. Hesitant, nervous, and curious.

"My bedroom's down the hall," Chris says, pointing towards it. "No snooping, no stealing, and if you break it, you replace it. Got it?"

"Yes, Officer Redfield," you say sarcastically.

Leah stands up, giving Chris an exaggerated eye roll, and you follow her down the hall. You can hear them whispering their predictions and fantasies about what you'll get up to behind closed doors.

But eventually, the games go on in your absence. You remain unaware as you sit on the edge of Chris' unmade bed next to Leah.

It’s just you and Leah Kennedy in Chris Redfield’s bedroom, the world is still and the lights are low, but you watch a decade fly before your eyes in a single moment. It’s fancy dinners and home-cooked meals, an apartment in the city and a house in the suburbs, the balcony, the backyard, the wedding, the honeymoon, the family portrait. 

"So…" you begin, expecting her to set some sort of ground rules, expecting you'll end up conversing for the duration, maybe giving each other a friendly peck on the cheek. But, she looks at you, her eyes flicker as they quickly run up and down your body, and she takes the leap.

Her lips are soft and sweet with cherry-flavored chapstick, and like Katy Perry, you liked kissing a girl. But, there are no boyfriends to mind, and despite being tipsy and technically still playing by the rules of a game, there is something real about the way she kisses you. It's heated and hungry, urgent due to time constraints. You can't stay in this room all night - not because it's Chris', but because no one can know about this. You can't tell them that when her tongue meets yours it's the first time you enjoy the taste of beer. You can't tell them about how she tucks her bangs behind her ear so they don’t obstruct her view of you when she pushes you onto your back and her hands travel from your waist to your bra and stop when Chris opens the door. Leah is quick to sit back up, to pretend, but not quick enough. He knows, but for whatever reason, he keeps his lips sealed.

When you return with your head down to hide your reddened cheeks, Brad says, "You two must've been having a lot of fun in there since you missed the timer on the microwave going off."

"We just talked," Leah says.

"Uh-huh," he says, "Talked."

"You guys were totally getting it on in there," Forest says.

"I would've paid to see that," Brad says.

"You can admit it," Richard says. "We won't judge."

"There's nothing to admit," you say.

Jill throws you a sympathetic save by announcing, "You missed Rebecca having her first kiss."

"It's not that big of a deal," Rebecca says, timidly.

"Are you saying I'm a bad kisser?" Chris asks.

"I didn't say that."

The group decides to transition to truth or dare, and you're relieved to have the attention taken off of you and Leah. The boys become distracted by the sight of Jill's tits when Brad dares her to flash everyone. You decide to leave before you end up naked.

While you wait for a cab outside, Leah turns to you. "Can you keep what happened between us a secret?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Thanks," she says. "You're a great friend."

A friend. You longed to be accepted for so long, but now the word sounds like rejection. The word taunts you while you struggle to fall asleep.

Just friends. The way you told Leah you felt about Richard after you made up an excuse to not go home with him. 

Leah avoids you at work the next week. No one seems to care except Chris, who asks you privately, "What is up with the two of you? You were going at it in my bed last weekend and now you won't get within 20 feet of each other."

"Nothing. We were just drunk on Saturday, so that whole thing happened, and we've just been busy with separate work this week."

"Uh-huh. You were just drunk? Nothing else going on between you two?"

"That's like asking if you and Rebecca have something going on. We just kissed because we were playing a kissing game."

He doesn't press further, though when he turns to walk away, you call after him, "Wait, Chris…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone, though. I don't want them making a big deal out of it."

"I won't."

He keeps his word.

Leah used to eat her lunches with you, you'd both meet in the break room at 12:30 sharp, but now, you sit by yourself. Until Friday, 12:20, you find her sitting across from Jill, talking and laughing.

"Alright, I've gotta get back to work," you hear Jill say before she leaves the room. There's only one exit, so she inevitably crosses paths with you. She's the first person to give you a warm, genuine smile that week. It makes you feel human and real, and it gives you the confidence to talk to Leah.

When she spots you, she hurries to pack her things up and leave.

"Leah," you say. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not."

And you didn't. That's not why she avoids you.

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you." Her shifty eyes and wavering tone give her away - not that it wasn't already obvious.

"Yes, you are."

She looks around the empty room before lowering her voice, "Fine. If I admit it, will you let it go?"

"How can I 'let it go'? We went from making out on Saturday to-"

"I told you not to talk about it."

"You told me not to tell anyone else."

"Same thing. You're just making it worse."

"How?"

"You're reminding me of it, and I don't want to think about it."

"Why? I thought you liked it."

"I did. I like you."

"I like you too."

Her face softens for a second, going from forced agitation to poorly-hidden bashfulness, but ultimately, she looks disheartened. Because you both know this can't happen.

"I wish it were different."

"You wish I didn't like you back?"

"No, I wish this world was different. I wish Raccoon City was different."

"Me too, but why should we let it stop us?"

She sighs, purses her lips, and turns her head. Finally, after a moment of contemplation, she says, "Okay, but we have to keep it quiet. When we're at work, we're just friends." She pauses and her lips curve into a smile. "And tonight, after work, when I take you out to dinner, we can be something more than friends."

"Deal."

She glances towards the door to make sure you're alone and gives you a grin that's almost conspiratorial before kissing you on the cheek.

"That's against the rules!"

"Oops," she says with a shrug.

You sneak a kiss on her cheek to 'get even' and she walks out of the room with an extra pep in her step. You notice her trip on the laces of her combat boots, too far away to hear you stifle a laugh, but you see her shake her head, feeling embarrassed by her stupid mistake despite being alone in the hall. She's not used to being lost in thought like this, not used to liking someone in this way.

That night, you play a mixtape you and a friend made together back in high school when your only problems were silly crushes on boys. You remember her gushing over a guy you thought was mediocre at best while the sound of Kiss Me amplified her giddiness, and you remember how you comforted her when he broke her heart while Linger covered up the sounds of her crying. 

You wish you could call and gush over your date and have her calm your nerves over the phone, but you know you shouldn’t. You could say you were seeing a boy but a lie like that would violate the rules of girl talk. You decide to keep yourself company. 

You drive separately and meet at the restaurant. It's relatively crowded with the typical hustle and bustle of Friday evening downtown.

You split two dishes and Leah pays. Like you, the waiter seems allured by her.

"Before you leave," he says to Leah in a hushed voice as if you can't hear what he's saying from across the table. "I just wanted to let you know that you're very beautiful."

"Thanks," she mumbles with a half-smile. Polite, but nothing else lies behind it. No desire.

"And," he continues. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime."

"No thanks, I'm unavailable."

"Oh? Where's your boyfriend on this fine Friday night?"

"No boyfriend."

He doesn't quite get it. Not until she reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze when she takes it in hers. She smiles at you, warm, and then at him, proud.

"Oh, so that's how it is," he says, and you can almost hear the roll of his eyes. "Well, I left my number on the check, so you can call me once you're done 'experimenting'."

Her face turns sour while her eyes remain on him, softening when she meets yours. You walk out hand-in-hand now that you're beyond the point of hiding. Most people pay no mind, thoroughly absorbed in themselves and their dinners.

You take the bottle of wine to go, since you each had only a glass at dinner as neither of you planned to drive home drunk on anything but each other. You're grateful that Leah invites you to share the rest at her apartment since you didn't bother tidying yours. It's better she comes over when the floor of your bedroom is visible, and not covered in a layer of dirty clothes.

Her house is neat and minimalist to a degree that makes you think it's always this way. Her wardrobe, which mainly consists of multi-purpose basics - white t-shirts, blue jeans, and an array of leather jackets - lives on a single-rod stand-alone clothing rack. With her level of organization, she doesn't need to hide all of her things behind a closet door.

You are the only thing she hides. 

But when you enter her bedroom together, she keeps the lights on. She wants to see all of you, to know you. She wants to put your picture in a locket and let you dangle around her neck, swinging like the pendulum of a clock in time with her heartbeat.

You unravel under her touch slowly and then all at once. She kisses you from your lips to your core with meticulous reverence and savors your taste. When you struggle to catch your breath, she holds you like you're bleeding out and your dying words are sacred to her.

Leah teaches you how to return the favor by letting you practice. It is a hands-on lesson. By the time you fall asleep, your lips are wine-dark and barely tired. She holds you close to her heart like a rosary while you sleep soundly.

You roll out of bed stealthily and search her kitchen for breakfast. There isn't much. She seems regimented in most areas of her life and health-conscious. There is a disappointing lack of Lucky Charms cereal in her cupboards. There is a carton of eggs, so you scramble a few for you both. You brew coffee too.

"Something smells good." You hear Leah's voice from the hallway before she appears in the kitchen. She wraps her arms around you, hugging you from behind.

"I took the liberty of making us both breakfast. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not. In fact, I could get used to this."

You take a sip of your coffee before you decide, "It's better than the kind they keep in the RPD break room."

"I think anything is."

You try to kiss her and she turns her head. You fear she'll claim the night before was a drunken mistake - it would be the same lie you told to Chris. Obvious in a way that makes it more infuriating than saddening. But she doesn't.

"Mm-mm," she says, shaking her head. "When I said anything is better than the RPD coffee, I didn't mean my morning breath."

"I don't care," you say with a smile and lean in again to kiss her.

She laughs when she playfully pushes you away. "At least let me brush my teeth before you kiss me."

"Fine," you concede and settle for kissing her on the cheek the way you do when no one is looking at work. Even in locker rooms you have to be vigilant. You doubt Jill or Rebecca would say anything unless you were doing something truly salacious. But it isn't unheard of for one of the guys to take a trip through the women's locker room under the guise of "hearing something suspicious" or "accidentally walking in there", sometimes without any excuse at all if it's Irons who has done this on multiple occasions.

Your secret relationship makes you feel like teenagers sneaking around behind their parents' backs. And like teenagers, you both can't wait to grow up and break free of the rules that hold you back from being together. But, you live under the tyranny of societal norms that you can't outgrow on your own.

Not when you have Brad and Richard who find you in the previously-unoccupied hallway.

"It's only a kiss. It's not a big deal."

"Not here."

"No one's going to see us."

But they do.

"I should've known you two were a couple," Brad says.

"Yeah, a couple of dykes," Richard says.

They laugh like bullies on a playground. You thought they would have learned by now. Aren't you supposed to get wiser with age? You're too stunned to say anything for a moment, but you make a conscious effort not to look at Leah. Not yet.

"What's going on over here?" Forest says, peeking around the corner.

"We just discovered there have been two queers hiding among us," Richard says as if he's speaking about foreign spies or ghosts.

"Yeah, they were totally getting it on out here," Brad says.

"Aw, I can't believe I missed the action. Could you give us a little replay?" Forest points at you two like he's the director of a porno.

"Go take your sorry ass to the video rental across the street if you want something to watch," Leah says with unwavering confidence.

Yours wavers. You never got the thick skin they promised you. You put all your strength into holding back tears. Something else burns behind Leah's eyes, though, you can see it. Her icy blue eyes somehow hold fire. 

"Wow, a feisty bitch," Forest says, "or should I say butch?"

All her training led to this moment, but you step out of the ring in fear.

"Sorry I get more pussy than you, Forest," Leah says. She wouldn't normally engage them like this. It's personal. It's you.

"Shit. Pretty good one," says Brad.

"Ugly bitches usually have some brains, so it makes sense," says Forest.

It feels like middle school until it becomes physical. Richard pushes Leah, so she hits him in the nose hard enough to make him bleed. Forest lays his hands on her and likely knowing that she can't take all of them at once, especially when you're standing by in shock rather than fighting beside her like you should be (a thought you only have later), she pulls her gun on him.

Chris, who has won every sharpshooting contest STARS has held since he joined, hears the commotion and runs in with his own gun trained on Leah.

"Put the gun down now," he says.

And terrified, she points it at him.

They both stare each other down for long enough for you to draw yours and fire it because you know if he shoots her, he won't miss. 

You would kill for Leah. 

The bullet hits no one but the picture of Brad on a poster that hangs on various walls of the RPD. Which would be kind of funny if that's what you meant to hit.

Leah turns to you in shock which allows Chris to easily disarm her, knocking her gun out of her hand and kicking it out of her reach. His gun is aimed at you now. He can shoot you and get away with it, and he knows it. His finger hovers over the trigger but something in him holds him back.

"Put the gun on the ground or I will shoot you," he warns you instead.

You put it down and hold your arms above your head. All five of you are placed in separate rooms. There are not enough interrogation rooms to hold you all, nor are there enough cops that are not involved in the situation. Each of you is placed in handcuffs, but you are first. You never thought your handcuffs would end up around your own wrists.

You should be arrested. For once, you are grateful for the way Chris pities you.

"I wasn't going to shoot," is the first thing he says when he walks in. The second is, "you're lucky your aim sucks".

"I really thought you were going to kill her, and I was just scared. I swear, I'm not like that, usually."

"I know. And that's why you're not going to jail." He pauses before adding, "But you're handing in your gun and badge."

Everyone else gets a slap on the wrist. You wonder if it's a literal slap when you see Brad walk out of the interrogation room looking like he's on the verge of tears, but you find out from Leah that the combined interrogation of Chris and Jill will scare you straight.

"Pun intended?" you ask.

"No," she says, but a hint of a smile peeks through.

She tells you that she hates goodbyes before she hugs you. You open your driver's side door and she stops you.

"Wait," she says, and you turn to face her one last time. "Before you go, I wanted to tell you that I… I lo-"

"I know," you say, cutting her off. "Don't say it."

You climb into your car, but before closing the door, you say, "but just so you know, I would've said it back."

The sunset doesn't look as beautiful when you drive off into it alone.

[avocadorablepirate]

Beneath The Surface - 2

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: When memories, buried deep within your sea of emotions, resurface, you’re left to question what lies beneath the surface. Did he truly mean to leave you behind, or was there something more to his silence than you ever understood?

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, OP spoilers

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I may not post a chapter next week, since life’s been pretty hectic and I haven’t had time to write much of the next part, but we shall see…

As you reached the palace courtyard, your eyes landed on the forest island in the distance, the thick canopy of trees hiding the mysteries within it. A knot of dread formed in your stomach, alarms ringing in your head as if warning you that something would go wrong. But you ignored every warning, flexing your fingers instead, and taking your usual stance to summon your powers.

You took a deep breath, letting the cool breeze that picked up steady your nerves. Then, when you finally felt that you had formed enough, you let the gush of wind lift you up, a familiar weightlessness overtaking you, making you feel as though all your worries had been blown away as you effortlessly glided through the air.

The palace, and the town of Dressrosa shrank beneath you, and for a moment you felt at peace. However, as you drew closer and closer to Greenbit, the sensation of flight, once a source of joy, now carried the weight of your looming task. Desperately trying to remind yourself that all you needed to do was retrieve Caesar, you couldn’t stop your intrusive thoughts from telling you that if you screwed this up you were likely fucked.

From up above, you surveyed the shores of the forest island, looking for any signs of life. The wind that flowed throughout the island, told you that there were people on it, but it wasn’t until you reached the south beach that you spotted actual human life.

The silhouette of two people became clear from where you were, however, that was all you could make out. So, you inched closer, careful to not cause any sudden gusts of wind that would alert them of your presence.

Descending slowly, you noticed one of them wearing a long black coat, a Jolly Roger oddly similar to the Donquixote family’s printed on the back, with something written above it.

A transponder snail rang, and the same person answered it. As you overheard the person on the other end address the man in the black coat, you were finally able to see what was written, and your breath hitched.

“This is Sanji!”

“Black leg, you found the factory?”

“No, but we’ve got bigger problems. It’s a trap! Doflamingo never quit the Warlords. Get out now!”

The voice on the other end cut off, and the click of the transponder snail signalling the end of the exchange snapped you out of your trance. You took in the agitated look on the man’s face. He looks different now. The sight of him sent a rush of emotions through you.

It suddenly dawned on you why you had been assigned this mission. It wasn’t a test of strength, it was a test of loyalty.

But you weren’t going to let the few years you spent with a boy you thought you knew, stop you from proving yourself. You let the resentment and betrayal build up inside, pushing aside any other feeling that dared to come forth. Doflamingo had given you a chance to get back at the person who had truly hurt you most. Yet, the look of worry that you noticed wash over him as you were just about to call out his name, pushed aside all of those feelings in seconds.

In front of you stood the same boy who did his best to shield himself with his tough, uncaring exterior, but if you were to look close enough, you would notice the vulnerability he hid behind it.

“Law?” What should have come out as a bellow, expressing your resentment towards him, slipped out as almost a whisper of his name - as though you had a sliver of hope that it was the same boy who had calmed you in the middle of the night as you cried from yet another nightmare.

His head snapped in your direction, a voice he’d not heard in ages almost quelling his worries until he realised why you were here.

“Y/N-ya?” he called out hesitantly, almost praying it wasn’t you. All he got in response was a blank stare.

“It’s been a while,” he continued, his voice low as he slowly backed away.

Your hands that were at your sides, clenched into fists. All the hurt, all the anger you had buried deep inside you, came rushing to the surface in a matter of seconds.

“You,” you said, voice trembling with fury. “You left me.”

“I didn’t-“ Law started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“You promised me!” you shouted, the wind around you growing harsh as the air hummed with power. “You said we would do it all together.”

Law didn’t move, nor did he try to defend himself. He simply stood there, his expression unreadable, only his grip around Caesar tightening.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he finally said, albeit quietly.

“Liar.”

Your devil fruit powers further activated, a gush of wind surging towards Law. But he held his ground, blocking your next attack with his katana, the force of the clashing sending shockwaves through the air.

“Y/N-ya, I mean it! I didn’t have a choice!” he repeated, louder this time. “I would have taken you with me. But it all happened so fast. Corazon-“

You froze at the name.

“Corazon betrayed Doflamingo.” Your voice seethed with rage at the reminder of that dreadful night at Minion Island.

“Corazon died for me. He was trying to help me, trying to protect the people of-“ There was a desperation in Law’s voice as he tried to reason with you. His voice shook with emotion but before he could finish, a new voice cut through, one that sent a chill down both your spines.

“Well isn’t this a touching reunion.”

You turned to see Doflamingo descending from the sky, his grin as sharp and menacing as ever.

“Hello Law,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Rosie, I see you’ve found what I was looking for.”

You fell mute in his presence, giving a small nod as a feeling of unease settled in your gut.

“Doflamingo,” Law spat, his grip tightening around his katana.

Doflamingo ignored Law, his gaze fixing on you instead. You opened your mouth to speak but no words came.

“You’ve done well my little Rose,” Doflamingo said with a small nod of approval. “I’ll take it from here. Return to the palace.”

His words didn’t sit right with you, not to mention you had noticed a few Marines now approaching. Who had called them here?

Your body tensed, torn between the loyalty you had clung to and the boy who had once meant everything to you.

“Y/N-ya, don’t leave,” Law tried to plead with you, a hint of desperation in his voice.

You looked hesitantly between him and Doflamingo, your mind racing. But in the end, you turned and took to the sky, leaving behind the two men who held your fate in their hands.

—————

I hope y’all like what you’ve read so far :P….let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

taglist: @riftmage27 @enigma-of-grand-designs

[linosaurus-ikuklk]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ SKZ - On Track: I Know I'm a Fool

Summary: You had unspoken feelings for Minho and the consequence of this was to watch him fall for someone else. The same goes for Hyunjin, who was always second to Minho. Amidst the secrets and heartbreaks, you'll learn that love isn't about who you chase, but who's been there all along. Summary: You had unspoken feelings for Minho and the consequence of this was to watch him fall for someone else. The same goes for Hyunjin, who was always second to Minho. Amidst the secrets and heartbreaks, you'll learn that love isn't about who you chase, but who's been there all along.

Genre: Unrequited Love, Comedy

Word Count: 6.5k

Notes: This fanfiction is inspired by SKZ's song "바보라도 알아 (Mixtape: On Track)" and its music video. The first time I watched that MV, I knew I had to write something! So here it is, but I decided to give it a little mix. This is also my first post and I hope you guys will like it!

.° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ -바보라도 알아 (Mixtape: On Track)

The sky was blue and the sun illuminated the surroundings with a vibrant glow, a stark contrast to the gloomy pit that’s growing inside your stomach as you stared back at him. You have never expected him to be suspicious but here he is, standing before you and demanding an explanation for your odd behavior. He now knows… No, he doesn’t. He has an assumption and you could simply deny it but that you couldn’t do because it was just so obvious.  “Are you going to say something or we’re just going to stand here until—” 

“I did.” You knew you couldn't lie to him. Well, you did. The whole time you were together but nothing more than that. And that lie cut deep into whatever it is you’re trying to save here. He scoffs at you, that gorgeously mischievous smirk of his is now more disappointed and bitter. Instead of pulling at your heartstrings, it pierced needles on your heart. “I knew it… You’re pathetic, do you know that?” You peel your gaze away from him to avoid the hatred in his eyes. “I know.”

“You know? If you knew you wouldn’t haven’t did this!” he froze and sighed, closing his eyes shut. “Wouldn’t haven’t did?” you echoed, stifling a giggle. Minho’s confusion over his own line was so charmingly ridiculous that it was impossible not to laugh. “Okay, cut!” Bangchan groaned, running a hand over his face like he was about to pull out his hair. Jisung couldn’t help but chuckle as he clapped a hand on Minho’s shoulder. “Minho… it’s ‘wouldn’t have done,’” Jisung corrected, his tone more amused than irritated. “You’ve got to stop making up your own version of English.”

Minho only laughs at his mistake and ruffles his own hair. “Ahh, what’s happening to me?!” You go and high fived Changbin as you both saw Bangchan’s reaction at Minho’s consistent mistakes. He has his face all scrunched up and his back slouched as he sits on the chair. The cameraman, Hyunjin, was the one who couldn’t take it the most, even before this shoot. You, Jeongin and Yongbok didn’t fail to notice it. 

“One last take and then we pack up for today.” Bangchan sighs as he leans back on the chair. “Yeah, I’m sorry!” Minho glanced at him, flashing an adorable smile before fixing himself to do another take. And finally, the heavens had mercy on Bangchan, Minho successfully delivered his lines without any mistakes. Right away, you helped Seungmin with the mic and the other equipment.

“What’s with that guy?” You nodded toward Minho, voicing your thoughts to Seungmin, since he’s known for being observant. Surprisingly, he shrugs, a hint of uncertainty in his expression. "I don’t know either," he admits, his tone low. "But he’s always like that."

“You should be more worried about Hyunjin, though.” Jeongin, who had been standing nearby, gestures behind him, his thumb pointing at Hyunjin who is packing up the camera, moving in his usual fluid motions but with a distinct lack of energy today. "He’s been unbearably silent," Jeongin adds, frowning slightly, as though the change in Hyunjin’s demeanor is more than just a passing mood.

You look over at Hyunjin, his back turned to you as he works. There’s something different about him today. A stiffness in his posture, an absent-mindedness to the way he packs, as if the rhythm of his usual movements has been disrupted by something heavier. You nod, but your thoughts are distracted. The whole atmosphere feels thick with unspoken words, and for some reason, it’s not just Minho’s usual bravado that’s on your mind.

“Maybe it’s just been a hard day for him,” you suggest, trying to rationalize the distance you’re sensing. “I heard he got 86 on his impromptu speech earlier.” Yongbok, standing nearby, rests his chin on the back of his hand while balancing a pole for the lights, his voice casual but with an undertone of curiosity. "Or maybe… He got side-chicked by his crush because of Minho." Jisung chimes in, his voice barely above a whisper, clearly eager to add some fuel to the fire.

The rest of the group, except for you and Jeongin, immediately grasp the weight of the situation, a look of quiet understanding dawning on their faces. You and Jeongin exchange a glance, both still in the dark about what exactly went down, your confusion written clearly on your faces. “What happened?” Jeongin asks first, his curiosity piqued. He leans in slightly, as though about to reveal something juicy. "In the office earlier, Hyunjin invited Jaein to go to the school fair after her arts club activity, but she turned him down because… she’s already going with Minho."

The moment the words leave his mouth, Seungmin lets out a low "oof" wincing visibly and shaking his head, like he could almost feel the awkwardness hanging in the air. Jisung sighs, adjusting his lensless glasses with an air of exaggerated sympathy. “Yeah, poor guy’s probably been feeling it. And you know how Hyunjin is—he’s not the type to show when something’s eating at him, but it’s pretty clear today.” 

The conversation was interrupted by Bangchan calling them over so they briskly finished their jobs and gathered around him. Minho stands beside Hyunjin, shoving his phone down his pocket with an unfaltering smile on his lips and the taller guy swiftly goes between Changbin and Yongbok. Your eyes went back and forth to both of them and Jeongin noticed. “Yep, I know what you’re thinking.” You glanced at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” He hums as a response, shoving his hands in the pocket of his slacks. “You wanna help Hyunjin out so you could keep Minho to yourself.”

Your frown intensifies and your mouth goes agape. “That definitely was not what I was thinking!” You looked forward, shrugging. “But now that you mentioned it—” You got interrupted by Seungmin who nudged your right arm. “Hey, elderly are talking.” He mentions toward Bangchan who looked so done and nods at him while everyone else laughed. “Thank you very much, Seungmin.” You left the rooftop with Jeongin, the others walking behind you and being loud as usual. 

Only Jeongin and Seungmin knew about your quiet, relentless crush on Minho. You weren’t the type to openly gush about it, but it wasn’t hard for them to figure it out. They knew how your eyes would linger a little longer whenever Minho passed by, how your heart would skip a beat whenever his voice rang through the room. It had all started so innocently—one short film project from the film club. Minho, the cool, effortless third-year, had captivated you without even trying, his charisma lighting up the entire room.

You never thought you'd be the type to fall for someone like that, but here you were. And, like a magnet, you couldn’t pull away.

You had dragged Jeongin along to watch the project, and from there, it spiraled. He brought Felix, Felix brought Seungmin and Jaein. It was an easy thing to do—everyone wanted to be part of the film club's projects, and you had an excuse to see Minho up close, even if it was just a few hours a week. You didn’t mind that Felix had pulled Jaein along, although, deep down, you couldn’t deny that it made you feel… something. You would never call it competition, especially since you and Jaein had been friends for years. But there was this uncomfortable feeling that gnawed at you whenever you saw her around Minho.

Jaein had no idea, of course. She had no idea how you felt about Minho—how he made your heart race, how you had memorized every small detail about him without even realizing it. It wasn’t her fault. You were the one who kept your feelings hidden, too proud to admit that someone else might hold his attention. But watching Jaein laugh with him, seeing her smile make him pause—something in you twisted. It was selfish, you knew. She had done nothing wrong. But it still stung.

For this particular project, Minho had actually suggested casting Jaein as the main female lead. At first, you tried not to overthink it. It made sense, after all—Jaein had that effortless charm, that natural beauty that made her shine in front of the camera. But when she turned him down, explaining she was too busy with her art club activities, it felt like the universe had given you a brief, fragile opening. That’s when things got complicated.

It wasn’t just that you were glad Jaein wasn’t part of the project now—it was the unexpected rush of relief, mixed with the feeling of being the second option, that washed over you. You didn’t want to feel that way. You didn’t want to wish for Jaein to step aside for your sake, but when the plan shifted to cast you in her place, you couldn’t stop the knot that tightened in your chest. You were glad, but it also felt like you were only second to Jaein. You hadn’t wanted to feel this way, but you did. It was complicated, and there was no easy way to untangle those emotions.

And then there was Hyunjin.

Hyunjin had always caught your attention, but not in the way Minho had. He wasn’t the effortlessly cool, confident guy who seemed to know exactly how to captivate everyone around him. No, Hyunjin was quieter—reserved, even—but there was something about him. You couldn’t place it at first, but the more you spent time with him, the more you realized: you saw yourself in him.

You recognized the quiet struggle in him, the way he would push himself to stand out, to be noticed, only to watch someone else capture the attention he’d been hoping for, especially when it comes to Jaein. That was something you understood all too well. You could see it in his eyes—the same frustration, the same longing that you had hidden from everyone around you. And in that moment, when everything felt like it was spiraling, you felt this undeniable urge to reach out to him.

Why shouldn’t you team up with him? Why shouldn’t the two of you take matters into your own hands and finally confront the mess of feelings that had been building? You and Hyunjin were on the same ground now, weren’t you? Both of you trying to get the attention of someone who seemed to belong to someone else. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe it was reckless. But you didn’t care. You just couldn’t keep pretending that things would work themselves out.

The tightness in your throat was unbearable. You had to stop pretending, even if it meant crossing a line you weren’t sure you could uncross.

And maybe that’s why Hyunjin’s silence now felt so familiar. It was the same silence you carried when you didn’t know what to say, when everything inside you was just too heavy to share. You weren’t the only one who had suffered silently through this crush. Hyunjin had been holding his own feelings back, just like you. Maybe this was the moment for you both to do something about it.

~~

About one hour later, you and Jeongin met up with Jisung and Yongbok at the fair because one of you was so brave, challenging a game of ‘rock, paper, scissor’ and the one who loses pays for food. The brave guy was Jisung and much to his dismay, he ended up paying. “Maybe I should keep the UNO reverse card I picked up earlier.” Yongbok says, showing us an UNO card he took from his pocket while trying to conceal a laugh. Jisung glares at him, his round cheeks being more rounded with the food in his mouth. You all laughed and Jeongin tried to poke Jisung’s eyes with two fingers going through his lensless glasses. 

Your gaze drifted absently across the crowd, your thoughts tangled in a mess of frustration, when your eyes landed on two very familiar figures. Minho and Jaein were playing a dart game, laughing as they took turns popping balloons. Minho threw with effortless precision, the dart hitting its mark every time, and you couldn’t help but watch him, mesmerized by how cool he looked—until you saw Jaein, grinning as she claimed the prize he won. She complimented him, of course. She always does.

A bitter sigh slipped from your lips, and you stabbed your corn dog with a little more force than necessary. The taste of oil and batter was drowned by the knot of envy twisting in your chest. It stung—seeing them together, so naturally in sync, while you were stuck on the outside looking in.

Then, your gaze shifted once again, and there he was. Hyunjin. He stood at a distance, his eyes locked onto the same scene—Minho and Jaein, but his expression was different from yours. There was a kind of quiet intensity in the way he watched them, like he wasn’t just seeing what you saw but something more. Something unspoken. His brow furrowed, lips slightly parted, but he didn’t move.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him either. Hyunjin wasn’t laughing, wasn’t pretending everything was fine. He was just watching. Maybe, just maybe, he understood exactly how you felt.

After you finished the remainder of your corn dog, you tossed the stick in a trash bin and tapped Jeongin’s back to tell him that she’s going for a stroll. With that, you courageously approached Hyunjin. Now he’s just looking at the stuffed toys displayed all over the booth. “Hey.” you greeted him without looking at him. He’s the one who glances down at you. “Oh, hey.” He then goes back to looking at the stuffed toys and you purse your lips from how awkward the atmosphere was. Well, to you, at least. You can’t just tell him directly what you want to happen. “You’re so quiet earlier, are you okay?” Dumb question, he’s obviously not and you know that. 

“Huh?” he glanced at you before looking away, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He sucks at lying, that you’ll give him. You’ll know he’s lying even if you don’t even know what the true reason was. To you, he’s pretty easy to read but it requires a great understanding. Like a complex, beautiful oil painting. Each detail could have a meaning, even just a single twitch of his eyebrows.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to break the silence that hung heavily between you both. “I saw you looking at Minho and Jaein by the balloon stall.” Hyunjin didn’t respond, his gaze fixed somewhere far off, almost vacant. It was as if he wasn’t even looking at the carnival lights, just lost in his own thoughts.

“I saw you looking too,” you added quietly, raising an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. But when he turned to face you, his eyes were empty. A deep sigh escaped him, the weight of something unspoken pressing on his chest. His voice was low, almost reluctant, when he finally spoke. “How do you do it?”

“Excuse me?” you frowned, not fully understanding his question. Then you saw it. The subtle tremor in his hands, the tightness around his jaw. It was more than frustration—there was something deeper, something raw.

“How do you keep it hidden, like that?” His voice cracked slightly, and you could feel the vulnerability behind his words. “How do you not get hurt?” His gaze flickered to the ground, as if even looking at you was too much.

And that’s when it hit you—he knew. He knew about your feelings for Minho, and that realization settled like a weight in your stomach. He wasn’t just asking about your ability to hide emotions; he was asking about the pain of pretending. About the ache that comes from watching someone you care for, fall for someone else.

 You inhaled deeply, like you’ve forgotten to breathe since earlier. “What made you think that I didn't get hurt?” you shifted on your feet to properly face him too. “I’m just… good at pretending, I guess. That’s why I’m an actress in our team.” You expected at least a small chuckle from him but there’s none. He just looks away, his glistening eyes being more obvious to you. “He always gets chosen as the male lead, I was always the side character. Didn’t know that even in someone’s life…”

You gritted your teeth. You didn’t know him well after all. You didn’t know that he actually felt that way towards Minho. And that’s what you mean when you have to study him like a complex renaissance painting. Not just him, but everyone else too. Your right hand makes it to his back and you pat him and both of you were silent during that whole time. That moment of silence allowed you to think about how you’re going to bring up what you intended to do. Exhaling a breath, you began to speak. “Would you like to… work together, you know…”

“What? Try to get together and make them jealous? That’s pointless… and pathetic.” Hyunjin’s expression finally changes from neutral to an utterly unamused one. He shoots you with that famous side eye of his and it almost makes you cringe. “That’s kind of the point but we’ll have to show them that we like them first then, boom!” Hyunjin’s gaze lingers on you for a while before sighing, peeling his eyes away from you then stares at you again. He’s basically judging you bare right now. “You’re serious about this aren’t you?” You nod at him, smiling. He scoffs out a laugh and points his finger at the booth where Jeongin and the others stood. “Did you come over here just to say that?”

You laughed, waving him off. “I came here to make sure you’re doing fine too.” Hyunjin only scowls at you but there’s a smile on his lips that he could barely put away. “What?” You were nervous all of a sudden and then he wraps an arm around your shoulder and starts walking. “Hey, where are we going? Are we starting now?” He didn't say anything and smiled as he made his way to Jeongin and the others with you. 

You knew it, he’s complex. Much more than the others you’ve ever met.

~~

The mission to separate Minho and Jaein had officially begun. Hyunjin made the first move, buying Jaein a drink. But just as fate would have it, Minho showed up with one of his own for her. Since Jaein already had Hyunjin's drink in hand, Minho turned to you, offering the one he'd gotten. You were taken aback by the unexpected gesture, but you accepted it without hesitation. Situations like this happened often which Jeongin and Seungmin were quick to catch on and the first thing they did was to try and knock some sense into your head. But being the brat you are, you didn’t listen.

This nonsense continued for the next few weeks and you could almost tell that Hyunjin was trying less and less. 

It’s already afternoon and it was quiet in the office. Your eyes were basically dried out and giving up, you could barely even open it. The script in your hands was faltering as you lost your grip on it and then it fell flat on the table. Someone enters the office and sees you sitting on the desk by the window. He tilts his head to the side, figuring out that you’re falling asleep. A smile forms on his lips before he sits beside you. The sunset that peeks through the window kisses your skin just right and it brings out the brown color of your hair. He lets you fall on his shoulder and takes the script from the table.

“I hope someday you’ll notice me, someday you’ll see me too.” He reads before glancing at you. “This project is just way too accurate to our situation.” he says in his thoughts, letting out a sigh. His hand goes up to tuck away your hair that was draping over your face. He bites his lower lip, pondering. “I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”

And you swore you could’ve pulled yourself out of your slumber but you’re just too tired. But his voice… It's so soothing. “Minho…?” you called him out with the voice in your head before fully succumbing to sleep.

~~

“Okay, in three, two, one, action!” It was another day of filming and the team was able to shoot the scenes that included Jaein. Now is the scene where she runs with Minho and Jeongin. The part where your character gets jealous. And here you are, truly doing your role as you watched beside Changbin. Hyunjin captures the scene, running along with them. 

Your mind kept circling back to Minho from yesterday. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d heard him say, “I shouldn’t be feeling this way.” The words echoed in your mind, leaving you more confused with every passing moment. Was he talking about you? Or was it something else entirely? Asking him was out of the question, though—you couldn’t bring yourself to face whatever truth might lie behind it, too afraid of what he might really mean.

Hyunjin calling your name cuts you off your trance. “It’s your turn.” You looked up to see him smiling. Well, you guessed that he’s being successful with Jaein, that’s why he’s being his usual self nowadays. You fixed yourself before walking over to them. You sat on a bench with Minho to do a scene. And while everyone was busy setting up the lights, Minho faced you with a charming smile. “How was your sleep yesterday?” You want to punch yourself. “Huh?” you frowned. He only chuckles at you. “I bet you did.” 

You blinked at him a few times before your gaze fell on the ground. So he was the guy—! The heat starts to climb its way to your ears and cheeks. You looked around, as if asking for help as if someone could calm your racing heartbeat. But you only saw Hyunjin speaking with Jaein, showing her the outcome of the previous scenes. A smile spreads on your lips and you find yourself wanting to kick your legs in the air. That was until Bangchan started the first take of the scene.

~~

The shoot was over, but the feeling that lingered afterward was like a thick fog you couldn’t shake. The crew had packed up, most of them long gone, but you stayed behind. It wasn’t that you had anything to do, it was just... everything felt unfinished. Your mind kept replaying the moments of the shoot—the laughs, the awkward pauses, the glances exchanged when no one was looking—and, of course, the weight of Minho’s words that still hovered over you.

You'd confirmed it yourself that Minho did say: "I shouldn’t be feeling this way." but what did he mean by it exactly? It made your stomach twist, and now, the confusion was gnawing at you. Asking him about it? No way. You were a coward, and you knew it. The thought of hearing the truth, whatever that was, felt way too risky. Besides, who would you even ask? Hyunjin? You almost laughed at that.

And then, just as you were lost in your own thoughts, the sound of footsteps pulled you back to reality. You looked up, and there he was—Hyunjin, standing in the doorway, like he'd been standing there forever. He had this look in his eyes, the kind that made your heart beat just a little bit faster, but there was something... guarded about him too.

“Hey,” you said softly, trying to smile but it felt too forced. Hyunjin stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “Hey. You… watching the preview?” You nodded, not trusting your voice. “Yeah, just… trying to get a feel for how it turned out. It’s a little surreal, seeing it all come together like this.” He nodded but didn't move to join you at the monitors. Instead, he leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the floor, as if he was wrestling with something—some thought he couldn’t let go of.

"You know," he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper, "I didn't expect this to be so hard." You turned toward him, your heart suddenly racing. “What do you mean?” Hyunjin hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously against his arm. “I mean everything. I thought it would be just another project, but... it’s not. It’s just... messy." His eyes flicked to yours, briefly meeting your gaze before dropping again. "I think we all know it’s not just about the project anymore, right?" You swallowed hard, the words hanging in the air between you two, thick with unsaid things.

"Hyunjin..." You felt the pressure building in your chest. He sighed, long and slow, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his usually composed demeanor. “I don't know if I can keep pretending. I don’t know if I can keep watching you—watching him—without feeling... like I’m losing something.”

Confusion and uncertainty dawned on you. What does he mean by that? Losing something? Jaein? You're not even sure if you heard him right.

Before you could say anything, the door swung open, and Minho stepped into the room, his usual confident swagger making him look completely out of place in the atmosphere that had suddenly grown heavy. "Is this a private conversation, or can I join?" Minho asked, his tone playful, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. You couldn’t tell if it was just his usual charm or something deeper that he was trying to hide.

The moment passed. Hyunjin straightened, his expression slipping back into something guarded. “You’re not interrupting anything,” he said, his voice back to its usual casual tone. “Just... thinking out loud.” Minho raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it further. “Alright, well, if you’re done thinking out loud, the premiere’s in a few hours. We should probably get going.”

You nodded, the air feeling thick around you. You wanted to ask Hyunjin what he meant, wanted to ask him if he was okay, but you didn’t know how to break the tension.

The moment passed too quickly, and just like that, you found yourself walking out of the studio with Minho at your side and Hyunjin a few paces behind. Your mind raced with questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of them. Not yet.

~~

The struggles, the hard work, and the stress mainly Bangchan and Changbin had to go through the production of their project finally paid off. The short film just premiered in the theater of their university and it received a lot of positive reactions and reviews. They were able to produce an income three times of what they had to take out from their budget. They were ecstatic, another project has gone to success. Not to mention that students have made a fanbase for Minho which they found really hilarious.

After the second showing of their short film, you guys decided to celebrate at a nearby restaurant. And as if the world has turned its back on you, you’re beyond hopeless from what you’re witnessing in front of you. Minho had his arm wrapped around Jaein and they were being so sweet it could give all the other 8 of you diabetes. Jeongin leans toward you to whisper, “What happened to your plan?” he asked and you couldn’t even glare at him because it is reserved for the new couple. 

“Stop staring.” Hyunjin whispers to your left and you feel his hand on your back. He nods at Jeongin, trying to assure him that you will be fine. And before you could even avert your gaze away from them, Jaein speaks. “Hey, is something wrong?” she looked concerned, scared even. Of course, who wouldn’t be scared if someone was staring at you as if they would kill you at any given moment. “You’re scaring me…” she adds with an awkward laugh.

You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. Your jaw tightened, and your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt, as if that could hold back everything you were feeling. You wanted to tell her—tell him—how much this was tearing you apart. You wanted Minho to know that it was you, not Jaein, who had wanted him first. It made you wish you could rewind time, speak to him with all the confidence you didn’t have then. But wishing for that now felt pointless, especially when someone else already has his heart—and he’s content with it. What hurt the most wasn’t just that you hadn’t acted sooner, but that you hadn’t done anything at all. Sure, you tried to come up with some ridiculous plan to push them apart, dragging Hyunjin into it, but it’s too late now. The realization hit you too late: he’s already slipping away, and you only realized that you’re losing him when he’s already falling for somebody else.

Everyone looked at you, waiting for you to speak. All of them noticed how you’re so bitter when it comes to Minho and Jaein. Yes, only you. Hyunjin left you in this battle because he was being sensible when he did. Gulping the tough lump in your throat, you shake your head no. “Nothing.” But the tears that were building up in your eyes betrayed you in front of them. “Why are you… crying?” Jaein grew more worried. Right, she doesn’t know anything. Heck, even Minho has no idea you liked him. You should’ve known your place. Minho was only frowning at you, with the same worry etched in his eyes.

You were pathetic.

“Excuse me,” you stood up from the table and left, leaving all of them dumbfounded. Or rather, most of them. Jeongin sighed, resting his elbow on the table as his hand gripped on his forehead. Seungmin looked at each one of them, with the couple and Bangchan asking for at least little explanation. And Hyunjin, he pushes himself from the table and goes after you.

The cold wind of the evening hits your skin like thousands of needles, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, indifferent from the pain that’s engulfing your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself being helpless, but here you are running away from shame. How desperate did you seem when you asked Hyunjin to separate Minho and Jaein? And just how foolish were you when you didn’t listen to Jeongin and Seungmin? And when you thought you finally had him? You felt… wronged. You wronged yourself and you could’ve wronged Minho and Jaein and everyone else if you got even more desperate.

You had no more energy and just stood there in the middle of the street, crying. Hyunjin finally catches up, calling your name. He stands behind you, panting from the run. “Hey…” he calls you softly. “I know you didn’t expect that but we’re not in the position to get in between them.” You turned to face him, bitterness and pain was painted like a melancholy masterpiece in your eyes. “The plan, why did you stop?”

Hyunjin had already foresaw you asking him why and he struggled to make the right words to explain. “Didn’t you see how happy they are together? Do you really want to take that away from them?” Hyunjin runs a hand through his hair, taking a step closer to you. His eyes tell you how determined he is to make you understand. "Minho is my friend, and I’ve always liked Jaein, but I came to realize that seeing them happy together was far more important than keeping her all to myself. I know I could never give her the same level of happiness she has with him, and that understanding made me let go."

He stops for a moment, breath catching in his chest as he stares at you. The sight of your tear-streaked face, your eyes swollen from crying, makes his heart ache. Without a word, Hyunjin reaches out. His hand is gentle, tentative, like he's not sure if you’ll pull away. He brushes a stray tear from your cheek, his touch soft but firm. He sighs quietly, his voice low and sincere. “And I hope you’d come to understand that too.” His words hang between you, thick with something unspoken—something that’s been growing in him for a long time.

You shake your head, feeling the ache in your chest tighten. Your gaze flickers away from him, unable to meet the weight of his eyes any longer. Your mind races, desperately trying to piece together the fragments of your heart and the confusion swirling inside you. You’re not ready for this, not ready to face the truth. “But—he said it, Hyunjin,” you whisper, almost frantic. “He said… he said he shouldn’t be feeling this way. When I was sleeping in the office, when I was so lost, he—he said he shouldn’t be feeling this way.” Your words tumble out in a rush, as if by saying them faster, you can make them real, make them mean something. Maybe Minho had felt something—maybe, just maybe, he had felt a spark, even the slightest flicker of the same emotions that have been tormenting you. You want to believe that. You need to.

But Hyunjin doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch. Instead, his hands move to your face, cupping your cheeks gently but with a firmness that forces you to focus only on him. “Listen to me,” he says softly, but with a quiet intensity that makes your heart skip. “That was me.” Your mind stumbles over the words. You blink, confused, your pulse quickening as you try to process what he’s just said. “What…?” you murmur, unable to comprehend.

Hyunjin’s thumbs lightly stroke your skin, the touch grounding you, calming you even as the truth begins to settle in your chest like a heavy stone. “I was the one who said that,” he continues, his voice lower now, more vulnerable. “Not Minho. It was me, when you were asleep at the office. When you were hurting… I told you that I shouldn’t be feeling this way."

The revelation hits you like a blow. It’s as if the ground beneath your feet suddenly shifts, the realization of his confession bringing everything into sharp, painful clarity. The world that you thought you understood, the fragile hopes you’d built around Minho’s words, suddenly crumbles.

For a moment, you just stare at him, searching his face, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. It doesn’t make sense. Why would he have done that? Why would he step in like that?

Hyunjin’s gaze never wavers.  His thumbs trace slow, soothing circles on your skin, as if trying to erase the rawness of the moment, trying to calm the storm in your chest. “I didn’t want you to know, not like this,” he admits, his voice thick with emotion. “But I couldn’t just watch you spiral, thinking that Minho might have felt something when he didn’t. I didn’t want you to hold on to something that wasn’t there.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. Instead, his voice cracks as he continues, the raw emotion in it making your heart ache. “Don’t tell me…” His breath falters slightly as he looks at you, his eyes searching yours desperately, pleading without words. “...that now that I’m falling for you, it’s still Minho who’s my competition?”

A sharp intake of breath catches in your throat. You want to speak, to reassure him, but the words escape you, tangled in the emotions rushing through you. Hyunjin shakes his head then, his tears finally breaking free, slipping down his cheeks, and for the first time, you realize how vulnerable he really is. “Please… don’t,” he whispers, his voice almost a plea, the weight of it making your heart ache in ways you didn’t know were possible. He’s not just asking for your understanding; he’s begging for your honesty, for the truth between you two, even if it’s painful.

You want to say something, anything, but the words feel like they would only make everything worse. Instead, you try to reach for him, to offer him some kind of comfort, but your hand trembles as it hovers in the space between you. “But Hyunjin…” you begin, your voice shaky, caught somewhere between doubt and frustration. The truth is more complicated than that, and you’re not sure you have the answers he’s asking for.

Hyunjin, as if reading your silence, cuts you off softly, his voice filled with a quiet desperation. “I know. I know it’s all so sudden, all of it. I’m not expecting you to just… fall into place. But please…” His grip on you tightens, his hands pressing into your shoulders, almost as if he’s trying to anchor himself, to make sure you know just how real this is, how much he’s willing to fight for you. “I can’t lose someone again. I can’t lose you.” There’s an intensity in his words, an urgency that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s like he’s already living through the pain of the possibility of losing you, the fear of letting you slip away. You can see the rawness in his eyes now—no more masks, no more walls. Just a man who’s afraid, afraid of being left behind again.

His arms encircle you, and the pressure against your body feels like a promise, a silent vow that he won’t let you go, not now, not ever. “If you go further away, I might fall apart by myself,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice low and heavy with the weight of his words. It’s not just a confession; it’s a surrender. He’s laying himself bare before you, letting you see the depth of his feelings and the fear he’s carried for so long, a fear of losing the one person he’s starting to believe he can truly hold onto.

For a moment, you don’t know how to respond. Your breath is caught in your throat, and your heart is racing in your chest, torn between the overwhelming emotion of his words and the uncertainty that still clouds your own feelings. But one thing is clear—he’s not asking for just your love, not in the way you might have thought. He’s asking for the chance to stand beside you, to fight for you, to not be left alone in the storm of his emotions.

And that, in itself, is enough to make your heart ache with something you’re not yet ready to name.

Yahooo!! So yeahh, that's it! Let me know if you guys wanna see how Hyunjin and MC is gonna make this whole thing work. And if you have some suggestions and any comment for improvement let me know too!!

[inhurtandincomfort]

AITA for keeping my boyfriend locked in the basement and selling videos of him on the dark web?

(This is a creative writing prompt. It is entirely a work of fiction.)

Now the title sounds bad, but hear me out. Nearly two years ago my (23M) boyfriend (23M) of two years broke up with me. He (Let's call him K) didn't even bother to tell me in person, I came home to find all his belongings gone and a note on the coffee table. I tried to reach out to him, but he blocked my number and none of his "friends" would talk to me.

Not only did the love of my life leave me, but via a note? That's worse than a text. We'd been together for two years, and he couldn't even be bothered to tell me? I thought we were so close, but I guess I was wrong. I became a complete wreck. I admit, I wasn't in my right mind for awhile afterwards. I felt so betrayed, and I turned to unhealthy ways of coping. I ended up losing my job, my friends, and my dad cut me off financially. My life was ruined, because of K.

But then I made some new friends who introduced me to an online forum. It's like a snuff/red-room type thing, sometimes live, sometimes not. Anyway I got really invested and saw some people donating thousands to the creators, so I thought I'd give it a shot myself. I grew a sizable following, and started making a lot of money.

Fast forward to now. I've told my viewers all about K, my Angel, and how desperate I was to get him back. I know they would all love him, too. He's the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and he's got such mesmerising eyes. I have no doubt he'll be a fan favourite. With the help of my generous donors, I was able to hire some people to help bring him to me.

I was ecstatic to see him again, but he doesn't seem to share my enthusiasm. It's been over a week and he still keeps crying and begging me to let him go, even though he knows it irritates me. I keep telling him I'm not going to kill him, but he doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm just hurting him for the sake of it, but that's not true. I am angry with him yes - I'm still hurt by what he did to me, but I am willing to forgive. All I want is for us to be together again, form an even stronger bond, a genuine one this time. I don't want him to ever leave me again. For us to move forward, he needs to repent. I'm handing him an opportunity to do that.

AITA?

Edit: I give him food and water, what else could he need? He will earn a nicer room and more freedom when he earns back my trust. I was the breadwinner when we lived together before, I paid for EVERYTHING, he just mooched. This time if he wants nice things, he has to work for it. He had an easy life, and he threw it away. I'm just teaching him a valuable life lesson.

[sangreprince]

Em's Big Long Sappy New Year's Post Under The Silly Cut©

Hey y'all, I wanna say thank you so much for sticking around this year. It's been a wild ride, and this blog has gotten WAY more love than I ever thought possible. I still have yet to start working on the big post I wanna do that shouts out all of my moots, but still I'm so incredibly thankful to all of you who have been here this whole time.

And I know this is supposed to be a positive thing, but I also want to be real for a second here. This year's been tough.

I don't talk about it a lot but I've been really struggling with stuff, and it's things I don't hear talked about a lot. So here goes. I wanna talk about some mental health stuff I've gone through and where I'm at now. Maybe it'll make somebody's 2025 easier than my 2024. It'll end when the orange lines do.

─────────

I'm not a terribly social person, I prefer one on one interactions much more because it gives me a lot more energy to give people and makes me a lot less anxious than group stuff. I have to be pretty exceptionally comfortable to reach the same level of comfort with a group that I can easily find with individuals. And this year what I've really come to understand is how that happens.

I find that when I introduce myself into a group setting, I compare myself to others a lot. And that really sucks. It's not fair to me, or the people around me. I think a lot of it comes from coming from a 'pull yourself up by the boostraps' type household where failure just isn't an option, and I still think I struggle with the idea that I'm 'failing' if I'm not the best at a certain thing. And if I compare myself with other people, I'm never ever gonna be the best at everything because naturally somebody else is gonna be better at some things than you.

For me this habit has been a really big issue in my relationships in 2024 because I've gotten more involved in friend groups. I don't think I'm over this bad habit, but here's what I've learned: You can't compare yourself to others, because you're not them.

You can't be everybody's best friend because people don't need that. I don't think I could even handle more than a few very close friends ( But I don't think I'm necessarily super 'close' with anyone as I think most people only see what I want them to see, and I have immense trouble with actually showing people every side of who I am just because I'm still struggling with feeling comfortable with being truly vulnerable around people and not comfortably vulnerable )

This is hard to admit even as I'm writing it, but I think deep down I learned this year that I have an intense need to prove myself to somebody that doesn't exist. An idea of this 'perfect' version of myself I've conjured up in my head. And to those close friends who've seen me lose it damn near self-flagellating myself because I wasn't the best friend somebody has or best player on the team: Thank you. For being honest with me. For grounding me and splashing the proverbial water on my face and taking me out of my own headspace. This kinda growth is hard, and overnight change is... Unrealistic at best but I try and take your grace and trust that you place in me every day and overcome one step at a time.

And I hope that one day, I can repay the kindness and patience you've shown me. I'm not used to having friends, frankly. I didn't have any, not really, until about 2019/2020. I've always been a recluse, somebody who shied from getting close to anyone as a consequence of abuse. This ( I theorize ) has affected me down to my sexuality, identity, and habits I've taken into other relationships. I've only had true, close friends for about four or five years of my life total.

I am not used to it. And I fear, at times, this is painfully obvious. So to those who I call close : Thank you. You are what keeps me going. You are what I work towards and what I carry with me. I hope that one day I can get out of my own head about this stuff, about this notion I feel to constantly prove myself in some way or another. And I want you all to know that you're the reason I'm determined to make this change, no matter how hard it is or how long it takes.

─────────

Anyway... Now for the shoutouts. This is less heavy than all of the above and in no particular order of significance as I'm just going off the top of my head: I would include everybody I love talking to but oh my god I would be here all day and besides y'all are getting that in the future anyways so. This is just the short list of personal thank you's!!!

@espelharr You, much like the radiant Viktor you write, have been a catalyst of change for me in a lot of ways. You've helped keep me honest, and been honest with me. We're pretty close and I'll admit, it makes me a little quiet and a little nervous because I'm really not used to having somebody I would consider a friend like that. You are among a very small group of people that I can confidently say I dearly trust. I admit it's kind of alien to me. I honestly don't know what to say with regards to it because I'm not entirely sure I've developed the social skills to develop a relationship beyond what we have.

In other words, you've maxed out my friendship meter and exhausted my dialog. Well, not actually. I never shut the fuck up and you know that perfectly well. I know we're both goin through out shit but if I could give you one gift as a token of my appreciation, it would be to let you see yourself for one minute how I see you every second of every day of every year that's to come.

And that's coming from somebody who has no idea of what's to come. But if you'll have me, I'd like to be a part of it. Through thick and thin, wind rain and snow.

Thank you, friend. I am proud to call you this. You get the long post because it's the last bit of Em "I wanna step out of my comfort zone and be vulnerable" before I retreat into my ball again.

@lronwilled Shep I'm still so confused how you infected my friend groups and became so close to me LMAO LIKE IT JUST KINDA HAPPENED AND I can maybe pinpoint like. One or two instances of maybe where it began but I still honestly have an immense amount of appreciation for all the patience and kindness you've shown me. I'm incredibly glad to have met you and started to actually talk more and I hope in 2025 I can maybe finally give you more than one reply a year and oh my god I haven't replie-

@untoldwithin / @avatarwithin YETI... I adore having got to know you and plot stuff like we have. Your portrayals conjure the voices of those you portray to my mind, and talking with you about ideas is always such a blast?? I love seeing you on the dash and love doing things just as much. Here's to a 2025 filled with a LOT MORE of all of the above, I'm so ready for it!!

@plasticsouled / @fearedelight Sal I hope you know how much I love seeing your silly little self on the dash. Even your main blog with muses I know nothing about are stuffed full of life and so much passion that it makes me so glad to be here and be a part of it. You're a fantastic writing partner and I'm so thankful to have met you in the last quarter of this year, and I really hope we can expand on everything we have and more in what's to come!! I love our silly lil shippy stuff and being able to talk is always such a joy and I go pspspsppsp for you to give me any and all thoughts whenever you have them because I can't get enough.

@primegrim / @mirkc / any of your other blogs PICHU I'm so glad to have met you this year and had somebody to ramble with. You write like a thousand blorbos but I'm grabbing each and every one of them with both my hands. Being able to talk and plot and do whatever else is such a blessing and I'm so glad you're here with us. if possible I'd take all your characters and raise them up like Simba, I'm such a fan 24/7 no questions asked.

@jinxe RAY MY BELOVED you have been here with me since the Volibear days and I'm so thankful for it. I've made this known several times but your lil meow meow will always be at my heart and you alone have made me appreciate her as a character so much more than I ever thought possible. I wish you were here more because I would be GRABBING YOU at all possible times.

Honorable Mentions:

You guys already know I love and appreciate you so much, and this is by no means all inclusive. If you're not on here I probably just forgor because this post is already long and emotional for me so skdjhfsdkj here goes!

@rotdame / bloom @soulcluster / NERD (I had to) @luxcruor / sailor @curscdtm / nathy @decaeys / my favorite stinky goth irl toreador @venstm / Ray :3 @hexsreality / Itzel @edgymuses / Jolyne @nameaprice / Xena @pompedia / POM @erobret / FERGIE :D @blueheals & @heirashari / Evie @avernusfuries HANNNN- gets slammed through a wall @spiderwarden & @coldjustness Melody @lunaetis / Hina @blackrosesmatron / lucy

Thank you.

All of you.

Here's to a good 2025.