#may as well throw this in her tag whatever

[aceofvase]

sometimes you’re doing a fun little character exercise and you realize you’ve overlooked a very fundamental change, and you just gotta take a second

[multimilfs]

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

[novaursa]

req for an aegon ii x reader who has a similar role of margaery tyrell? (love-bombing him so they can be betrothed and stuff)

she very easily manipulates aegon and basically uses his mommy issues to get whtv she wants (obviously bothers alicent to no end).

Web of Gold

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Pairing: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Next part: aegon in love

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

It’s a beautiful morning, yet the tension between you and Alicent Hightower crackles like a summer storm. You can feel her eyes boring into you from across the room, but you’ve become quite accustomed to her watchful glares. If anything, you thrive on them.

You smile sweetly, dipping your head toward Aegon as he lounges on the Iron Throne, looking far more relaxed than any king should. He’s watching you with that same eager gleam in his eyes, waiting for whatever praise you’ll offer him next. It’s become a game for you at this point—how much can you say before he completely melts? And it’s easier than it should be.

"My king," you say softly, stepping closer, your golden Lannister curls bouncing as you move. "You look especially regal today. Like Aegon the Conqueror himself reborn. Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

Aegon straightens slightly, his eyes widening with interest. "What?" His tone is eager, as though whatever you say might be the single most important revelation of his life.

"I see a man destined for greatness. Aegon, you are so strong, so powerful, and—" you let your voice drop into a breathy whisper, "so very wise." You emphasize each word, drawing out your compliments in a way that sends a flush of pride creeping up his neck.

Aegon shifts in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Do you really think so, Y/N?" he asks, his voice almost boyish, seeking that reassurance from you.

"Of course I do, darling. And I would never lie to you." You reach out, letting your fingers brush against his hand in a gentle, lingering touch, just enough to make his breath hitch. "Unlike others who may have their own agendas…" You throw a quick glance toward where Alicent stands, her expression tight, lips pressed thin. The corner of your mouth twitches into a hidden smirk.

Aegon doesn’t notice. He’s too busy basking in the attention you're lavishing on him. "Mother just worries," he mumbles, though even he seems half-hearted about it.

"Worries?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence. "I think she underestimates you, my love. You’ve already proven yourself to be a far better ruler than anyone could have imagined. I can’t imagine why she continues to hover over you like you’re still a boy."

You know exactly why. Alicent cannot stand the idea of you influencing her son. It grates on her to see Aegon so smitten, so easily swayed by your honeyed words. But that’s precisely what you’re counting on.

Aegon chuckles, clearly amused. "She just doesn’t understand, does she?"

"She doesn’t," you agree, leaning in closer so your voice is only for him. "But I do." You place your hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I see you for the man you are, Aegon. A man who doesn’t need his mother whispering in his ear, telling him what to do. You’re king now. You should be able to make your own decisions. Isn’t that what you want?"

Aegon’s eyes flicker with something—desire, admiration, a need for validation. "Yes," he says, his voice firm, though you know it’s more out of wanting to please you than actual conviction. "That is what I want."

You smile, letting your fingers trail lightly down his chest before stepping back, your eyes sparkling with the satisfaction of a job well done. "Then take what’s yours, my king. Trust yourself. Trust me." You cast another glance toward Alicent, who looks like she’s about to bite through her tongue.

She’s always there, lurking like a shadow, trying to pull Aegon back into her grasp. But he slips through her fingers every time you’re around. Alicent has power, but you? You have Aegon. And he doesn’t even realize it.

You turn to face the queen mother, giving her a radiant smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. "Your Grace, you must be so proud of Aegon," you say, your voice saccharine sweet, as though you’re not fully aware of the tension between you. "He’s grown into such a strong man under your care."

Alicent stiffens, her lips twitching in a forced smile. "He has always been capable," she says, her tone clipped. "Though I think he still benefits from wise counsel."

You tilt your head, pretending to consider her words, though you already know exactly how to respond. "Of course," you agree, "but I think he’s ready to make his own choices now. Don’t you?" You let the question hang in the air, a gentle reminder that Aegon is your king now, not hers.

Alicent opens her mouth to reply, but Aegon cuts in before she can get a word out. "Mother, Y/N’s right. I don’t need to be told what to do all the time." He laughs, clearly proud of himself for standing up to her, oblivious to the fact that he’s only echoing your words.

You beam at him, eyes sparkling. "Exactly, my love. You are your own man. And no one, not even your mother, can take that from you."

Alicent’s gaze narrows, and for a moment, you think she might say something sharp, but she bites her tongue. You know it’s eating her alive inside, watching Aegon slip further under your influence, but she can’t do anything about it. Not without making herself look overbearing in front of her son.

"Come, Aegon," you say lightly, turning back to him. "Let’s take a walk in the gardens. You could use some fresh air after sitting on that throne for so long."

Aegon rises eagerly, flashing you that boyish grin that only makes him seem more malleable. "Yes, let’s."

As you link your arm through his and lead him out of the hall, you don’t bother to look back at Alicent. You can already feel the weight of her stare burning into your back. You have Aegon wrapped around your finger, and she knows it.

But as long as you continue to feed his need for affection, for someone to praise him and treat him like the king he so desperately wants to believe he is, he will never stray far from your side. And Alicent can do nothing but watch.

[anyamaris]

Reciprocity

Summary- Your unrequited crush on Hoseok seems to have played itself out as you overhear a conversation between him and Yoongi. But Yoongi has a secret of his own to tell you.

Word Count- 11372

Pairing- Yoongi x F!Reader (x Hoseok in a way?)

Trope- Friends to lovers au, smut/angst

Warnings- Unrequited love, a bit of a love triangle? Adult language, vulgarity, unprotected sex, lots of smutty things, minors DNI 18+++

Tags- @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @woosanbby @frenchkisstheabyss

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N- Well this started out as a Hoseok fic....but Yoongi kind of took over? This is my first attempt at a BTS fic so please be kind. Thank you to @kwanisms for the gorgeous header and to @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading all of this process and encouraging me...this wouldn't have been written without you!!

“What do you mean?” You hear the familiar sound of Hoseok’s voice from the other room as you walk in.  

Smiling, you open your mouth to announce yourself, but the next words have you clamping it shut. 

“She’s just my friend, I don’t see her that way.” 

Curious, you set the bag of food down on the coffee table in the living room, wondering who he’s talking about.  

“Liar, I see how you two are together.  You’ve been friends for ages, and I can tell-”

“I’m not lying.  Seriously, man-maybe you’re projecting.  She’s just my friend.  As if I could ever see her as a woman.” 

Hoseok’s laugh at that last line has your heart dropping two stories below the apartment, the tingle of hurt burning the back of your throat.  

“Hobi-” You can hear the tightness of Yoongi’s voice as you try to calm the tsunami in your stomach.  

“Why are you so intent on matchmaking us? It’s not like you, dude. Stop meddling, it’s weird.”

“As long as you say so, man. I just figured I’d check before-” 

Their voices halt the moment you begin to make noises, unwilling to hear your two friends talk about you like that. 

You already felt invasive enough having listened in on that little bit.

Fighting down the tears pricking the back of your eyes, you manage to call out to them.  

“I’m back with food!”  

You’re certain your voice is normal as you make your way into the kitchen, settling the bag down on the counter to pull out containers for everyone.  

“Come eat while it’s warm…” you manage, ignoring the two men as they wander out from Hoseok’s bedroom.  

“That was quick…” Yoongi mutters, and you don’t catch the glare he throws at Hoseok.

Shrugging, the latter man comes over to give you a big smile.  

“Want to eat in here or the living room?” Hoseok asks, nudging your shoulder playfully as you finish unpacking the food.  

Trying to school your features, you just shrug, glancing over at Yoongi.  

He’s just looking between you, eyes narrowed before he sighs and finally shrugs back at you.  

“Whatever works, I’m just hungry.” Yoongi grabs a carton of noodles to sniff it, glancing around at the little buffet you’d brought.

“Thanks for the food.” he says, shooting Hoseok another look as he hovers beside you, bumping into you as he picks through the array.  

After you all eat your fill and clean up the kitchen, you find yourself on the couch beside Hoseok as he rambles on about his day.

Eyeing him, you can’t help but think about what he’d said earlier.

“As if I could ever see her as a woman.” 

As long as you’ve been friends with the man, he’s always been playful and flirtatious with you.  

While that was all fine with you, there were times that you could swear there was something more.  

That he may have something beyond just your close friendship.

That he may feel the same way that you do for him.

The crush you’d had on him existed long before you’d called him your best friend.  

Long nights talking about everything and anything, lingering on the phone even after one or the other passed out.

How he’d show up after he’d heard you had a bad day, bringing you your favorite coffee or treat.  

How willing he’s always been to make you smile.  

Yes, that’s what friends are for.  

They care for you in your bad times, as well as the good.

You’ve told yourself this so often that you’d convinced yourself at this point.

You’d had to, the silly crush you had on him had slowly become true feelings.

Feelings you’d been struggling to suppress because your friendship had always meant more to you.  

Yet, he was always cuddling with you, touching you, brushing back your hair….

The flirtatious nature of how you were together had of course been noticed by all of your friend group as well.  

Yoongi asking Hoseok about it was nothing new either, so that’s not what bothered you.

Even as much as you’d told yourself that you were only friends, hearing him say that he couldn’t even see you as a woman had your heart dying in your chest.

It shouldn’t hurt, you’ve told yourself that very thing night after night after he’d done something to get your pulse racing, your emotions stirring in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you jump as you feel Hoseok’s breath on your ear.

“Whatcha thinking about?”  He asks and you turn to look at him, swallowing heavily.

There it was-that cheerful smile.  

The one that always had you wondering how you would ever survive being around him.

“Nothing.” You mumble, turning to glance at Yoongi, pulling back to put some distance between you.

“How’s your work going?” you ask, pretending not to notice how Yoongi shoots yet another look at Hoseok.  

Before he can answer, there’s a knock at the door and you eagerly jump up to get it.

You’re not sure if you can handle Hoseok’s touchiness tonight.

Not while you were still reeling from his painful words.

“Hey, are you ignoring me? You’d better be free that night, what would I do without my bestie beside me?”

You just sigh at the text, chewing your lip as you ponder how to deal with him.

Your writing had been taking a toll ever since your mood had plummeted.  

After that evening, you’d recovered some from the hurt.  

You’d known that you two were only friends, but apparently there was a part of you that had clung onto a small bit of hope that he’d secretly felt something more for you.

At least you had your answer to that now, you keep telling yourself.  

Don’t act weird, you think, shaking your head at how ridiculous and emotional you were over something you knew already.

Flirtations or not, he’d never attempted to do anything beyond just that.  

Don’t be a greedy bitch, and don’t whine about stupid shit, you think to yourself.

“Fine, fine, but you’re buying the drinks.” You send him, smirking.

“DEAL!” he sends back with his typical emojis, making you laugh despite the ache.  

Checking the rest of your messages, you manage to see a missed text from Yoongi.

“Huh, weird…”  you mutter, opening it.  

“Hey, so…are you free sometime this week for coffee or lunch?”  

You frown at the text, tilting your head in wonder.

Curious, as Yoongi wasn’t one to reach out suddenly for no reason, you just message back:

“Sure, I can meet whenever you’re free.  Is everything okay?” 

It’s a bit before you get a response, which was typical for the man, as he was always doing something in his studio.

“Yeah…just wanted to talk to you about something personal.” 

His response has your curiosity peaking, and you immediately respond back to him.

“Well, let me know when you have the time and I’ll come meet you wherever!”

Interesting, you think.  

Yoongi and you had been friends for as long as you and Hoseok, but you’d never developed the same kind of closeness.

Mostly because of how different they are, of course.

Yoongi is reserved, a bit more quiet and serious.  

He rarely spends a lot of alone time with you, so something must be up if he’s asking for a one on one.

Hoseok is cheerful and upbeat, talkative and he never shies away from physical touch with you.

Frowning, you realize that’s part of what got you into this mess in the first place.

It’s not his fault that I have inappropriate feelings for him, you chastise yourself.

You take a moment longer to read the next text from Yoongi, responding that he will text you when he has time.

Setting down your phone, you turn to your laptop to see if you can break through the writer’s block today.

You make your way inside the quiet little coffee shop, glancing around to see if Yoongi was inside yet.  

None of the tables were taken, and there was a lone barista behind the bar, cleaning.

I must be early, you think, checking the time.  

Figuring you’ll get drinks while you wait for him, you make your way to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get started for you?” The man asks, and you place your order, deciding to get something for Yoongi as well.  

By the time the young man is setting your two drinks on the counter, you hear the chime over the door ring.

“Hey, sorry, I got held up at the last minute.  Freaking Taehyung and Jungkook and their normal antics.” He grimaces.

You can’t help but grin, knowing all too well how hard it was to escape the little menaces.  

“No problem, here I got you a drink already.” You hold it out to him, his eyes lighting up as he takes it.  

“Thank you…my intention was to buy your drink, but you beat me to it.” He smiles, gesturing to the open tables. 

Choosing a two seater by the window, you slip into the chair as he does the same across from you.

“So, how is work going? Super busy?” You start as he sets his coffee on the table.

He sighs, running a hand over his face as he glances out the window, nodding.

“Always, and those two little-” he begins, then shakes his head.

“Anyhow, it’s nice to get away.  How is your writing going?” He inquires, leaning forward as he turns to face you fully.  

Letting out your own sigh, you look down to toy with the lid of your cup.  

“Eh…I’ve had better weeks of writing. Lately….” you let the words drift off, just giving a small shrug to fill the void.

You notice his frown as he studies you, concern in his eyes as he tilts his head.

“Lately? Did something happen? What’s going on?” He asks, his sudden worry apparent.

Waving him off, you take another sip of your drink.

“Oh…just…things.  Life.” You try to smile, “Just stupid thoughts and trying to work through something.  But it’s nothing important.” 

You try to look reassuring but the concern stays on his face.  

“What about you? You said you had something personal to talk about?” Changing the subject was the best bet, you think.

“Mmmm….” he hums, his voice deep and low as he seems to ponder how to start.

“I…well…” he chews his lip, glancing down, then back up at you.  

“We’ve been friends for a while, right?” He asks, taking you off guard.  

You merely nod, thinking for a moment before you respond, “Eight years, yeah.”

He nods once at your answer, studying you before glancing away again.  

“You haven’t…dated anyone since we’ve all been friends.” He says and you furrow your brow at him.

“I mean…no…I actually haven’t.” You mumble, frowning, worried about where this is going.

“How come?” he asks bluntly.

You can only blink at him with a blank expression.  

“Not to be rude but…I thought you wanted to talk about something personal?” You deflect, wondering why he’s suddenly so curious about your dating life.

His cheeks flush pink and he looks down at his cup as he idly spins it on the table.

Clearing his throat, he manages to say, “Well…yes, this is personal…” 

Glancing around the little shop, you try to think of how to word it. 

It’s not like you can blurt out, “Because I’m in love with Hobi.” Because…just no.  

“It’s…complicated, I suppose.” you finally respond, tapping your foot against the table leg.  

His eyes meet yours, flicking back and forth as they seem to want to see beyond your evasive answer.

“I have you guys, why do I need to date? I guess the right person just hasn’t presented themselves.”

He hums, leaning back to watch you as you speak.  

“You mean you have Hoseok?” He asks simply, causing you to choke on the sip you were taking.  

Reaching for a napkin to clean up the coffee that shot out of your nose, you dab at your face as he watches you with a serious look.  

“I don’t-” you start but he puts up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t notice how you two are together, everyone has asked at some point if you two are a couple.” He says softly, his words obviously not intending to hurt but damn, do they.

You just take a moment to tamp down on the surge of pain at the reality of things versus what everyone “thinks”.  

“Yeah well…he has a way of making people think that, doesn’t he?” The bitterness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, who leans forward once more.

“Is this why you asked me to come out, Yoongi? To talk about my personal life?” You say a bit more harshly than you intended, wiping up the little droplets of coffee off the table to distract yourself.

“Hey-not…like that.  I’m not trying to…” he waves his hands around, flustered at your reaction.  

“Look, I heard you two talking the other night, alright? I’m very well aware of how  he sees me, so it matters little what I think about anything, doesn’t it?”  You tell him, finally looking up at him.

His frown tugs down even more now as he reaches out to place his hand over yours.  

Sighing, he shakes his head.  

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that…I’m sorry-” 

Cutting him off, you blurt out, “He doesn’t even see me as a woman, so-” 

“Well he’s fucking stupid then.” Yoongi counters, almost growling the words as he spits them out.

You can’t even think of what to say, shocked at the tone of his voice, the anger in his dark eyes as he squeezes your hand in his.

“I swear, I wanted to slap the smile off his face the other day when he said that to me,” he continues.

“How could anyone not see you as a woman? It’s fucking rude to say something so disrespectful, even if he thought you couldn’t hear him. I don’t care if we’re friends or more.” 

You swallow the pain at the memory, but the fact that Yoongi is getting so defensive for your sake has a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach.  

You manage to blink away the tears threatening to slip from your eye as you listen to his tirade.  

“He can think whatever he wants…” You mutter, glancing out the window to watch the people walk by, life going on outside of this painful conversation.

“Well, he doesn’t need to be so blunt about shit like that.  He’s the one always clinging to you like you belong to him-” Yoongi almost snarls out, but he stops, sighing as he blinks down at his drink.  

“Well, for the record, I don’t belong to anyone.” You tell him, intrigued and curious about his reaction to everything.  

You swear he almost sounds-

“I sound jealous, don’t I?” He says, a humorless laugh accompanying the words.  

“You sound like you just didn’t like what he said, I wouldn’t think you were jealous, Yoongi.” You tell him, giving him a reassuring smile.

He pauses as he looks down at your hand beneath his own, rubbing his fingers along yours.

“What if I were to say I was jealous?” He asks, continuing to look down before he raises his gaze to meet yours.  

It seems as if time stops in the tiny cafe as his words echo through your head.   

Jealous?

Yoongi?

“Yoongi, I’m not in the mood for jokes today.” You sigh out.

He purses his lips, his jaw working as he holds your gaze.

“I like you.” 

Your heart stutters, his sudden confession taking you completely by surprise.  

There wasn’t a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

Not an ounce of teasing in his tone.

He slips his hand off yours, leaning back as if he expects an outburst, but he never takes his eyes from yours.

Your mind is reeling at the idea that he’s being deadly serious.

Min Yoongi just confessed to you.

Yoongi…the serious, stoic friend you’d had for years.

When you don’t immediately respond, he just wipes a hand over his face.

“I wasn’t trying to be intrusive when I asked him about how he felt about you the other day.” He admits, finally breaking eye contact to look out the window, tching with his tongue as he considers his next words.

“Honestly, for years, everyone has had the idea that the two of you had some secret relationship going on.  That you just were being completely quiet about it, though to us it seemed very obvious.”  

You glance down at the hand he was just holding, feeling as if you’re floating in some weird alternate universe.  

Hearing how you and Hoseok had been viewed, mixed with the fact that Yoongi has had feelings for you….

You try your best not to zone out, hanging on his words as he continues.

“Of course, if that was the case, I’d be happy for the two of you.  You’re my friend, first and foremost.  Despite how I feel about you.”  

The low timbre of his voice lulls the pain of what he’s talking about a bit.

You’d always loved his voice, especially when it dropped low and deep like this.

Eyeing him as he watches the people walk by, you tilt your head to look at him in this new light as he talks.

It wasn’t a secret that you found all of your friends extremely attractive, every single one.  

Sometimes it felt almost unreasonable how handsome they all were, and you’d told them as much on many occasions.  

You certainly weren’t afraid to voice that opinion, it was just a fact at this point.  

It had just been so easy to look beyond the physical with all of them and Hoseok had definitely always been right up close, demanding all of your attention.

Never once past getting close with all the guys did you consider that any could have feelings for you, with the exception of Hobi of course.

“You…like me?” You finally respond, your entire worldview turning on it’s head.  

He winces at your words, turning back to meet your gaze.  

Pursing his lips, he merely nods.  

“I’m sorry if it’s abrupt, and if it upsets you at all.” he says softly, reaching out to grab his cup to drink from.  

“So the conversation you had with Hoseok….” you let the question linger as he sets his cup back down.  

He clucks his tongue, nodding gently as he finishes the thought.

“I figured if there was something between you two, if there was no hope…” he shrugs, chewing his lip as he looks down.

His words feel so very close to how you’ve been feeling lately about Hoseok, hitting you harder than you expect.

“Then you’d know…then you could let go.” You say without thinking, blinking at having uttered the words out loud.

His dark gaze meets yours, understanding passing between the two of you as he nods.

“I was shocked, honestly.  When he said nothing had ever happened between you.  But when he said-” he stops, his jaw clenching.  

You only manage an anemic smile as he continues, shrugging off the almost familiar pain.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing.” he tells you, “Confessing…admitting to you how I feel.”

You can’t help but feel a smile creep across your face as his cheeks tinge with a blush, unable to feel anything but excitement at his bravery.

“Yoongi-”  You start, but he stops you before you can say more. 

“Look…I asked him because I wanted to know how he felt about you.  If there was something there that I shouldn’t touch. On his side.” 

You just nod, understanding his logic with that.

“I want you to know that…telling you this, I don’t expect anything to come of it.  I know we’ve been friends a very long time and…I doubt you’ve ever seen me in that way.” 

Before you can respond, he only gives you a look and you let him continue speaking before saying anything.

He fiddles with his now empty cup, seeming to be turning over how he’s going to proceed.

“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.  I thought eventually that they’d fade away and I wouldn’t have to deal with them.” he shrugs a shoulder as he says this.

His words still stun you, even though he’s already admitted to liking you.  

“Now I know how he feels about you, but I also want to ask you the same thing.  If it’s not too intrusive, of course.” he says, watching you closely.

You swallow the immediate urge to deflect and deny your true emotions for Hobi.  

But Yoongi was being completely honest with you, not to mention the courage it was taking to confess like this.

It felt dishonorable to lie at this point.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you can only let out a shaky sigh as you build up the courage to admit your true feelings out loud.

“I …. I have had emotions for Hoseok for a long time.” You finally say, watching him as closely as he’s watching you now.

He blanches a bit, but he seems unsurprised as he nods.

“I had the feeling that was the case.” he mumbles, his eyes narrowing as he glances out the window, his tongue in his cheek.

“It’s not like I expected anything, but…” you can only spread your hands out, as if to say, it is what it is.

“So his words the other day must have hurt.” He says, as a statement rather than a question.  

Feeling the slight ache at the memory, you can only nod as you shrug a shoulder.  

“It did, but it’s not as if I expected anything else. He’s never expressed any interest in me.”  

Yoongi’s head snaps around to look at you, his eyes narrowing even more.  

“Don’t lie to yourself, it’s obvious that he’s encouraged your feelings.  Even if it’s been unintentional.  I can’t tell you how much that pisses me off, now that I know how you feel.”  

His words seem to snap something inside of you, and suddenly he’s sitting forward as he reaches out to you, his eyes widening.  

“Hey…shit I’m so fucking sorry-” 

It takes you a moment to realize that tears are streaming down your face, and you’ve been holding your breath.  

He is out of his chair in a heartbeat, suddenly kneeling beside you, using a napkin to gently dab at your cheeks.  

You let out a shaky breath, intending to tell him it’s alright, that you’re fine but the moment you open your mouth, only a sob escapes.

“Damn it, I came here to admit my own feelings and here I am, hurting you.”  His voice is laced with anger, directed at himself.

Shaking your head, you just cover your mouth, trying to not draw the concern of the poor barista as you try to compose yourself.  

“No-” you choke out, looking down at the deep, concerned eyes of Yoongi.  

“Can I…?” He gestures awkwardly with his arms, and you immediately nod, slipping into his hug.  

“Shhh, hey, it’s alright.  I’m so sorry I’m digging up painful things for you, I never intended to upset you.”

You cling to him, gripping the back of his leather jacket as you try your best to collect yourself.

He rubs a hand down your spine as he continues to soothe you with small, simple words, giving you time to calm down.

“You-didn’t.” you finally manage, pulling back as you wipe at your face.  

You take in his pain filled eyes, and it’s an odd feeling to be filled with wonder at his sympathy and care all while wanting to bawl your eyes out over Hoseok at the same time.  

“I-I’m just confused, and frustrated.  At myself, mostly.” You say, trying to laugh.

“At yourself?” He asks, still kneeling before you, holding you at arms length as he reaches out to wipe away an errant tear.  

You just nod, taking in a deep breath.

“Yeah, I know he and I are only friends, so it’s stupid to think of anything else between us.”  

His eyes darken as he grimaces at your words, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Hey, don’t do that.  Your emotions are valid, even if you don’t want to have them.  It’s not something we have much control over, believe me.” He smiles but you can tell he’s empathizing more than he’s letting on.

This man had just confessed to you and here he was, comforting you over another man.  

Your head spins from the day's events, feeling overwhelmed from it all.

“Yoongi…” you start and he hums in askance.

Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to cup his cheek, almost laughing at the shocked and panicked look that washes over his face.

“Things have been…confusing.” you tell him, and he can only nod, but he leans into your hand as you continue.

“I’ve known for a long time that Hoseok doesn’t have feelings for me.  That…it’s in my head.” You admit, albeit sadly.

His lips thin into a line, but you continue before he can say anything.

“I’m still processing this…” you gesture with your free hand.  “It’s the last thing I expected…especially from you.” 

He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head at your admission.  

“Especially from me?” He asks softly.

You just smirk and nod, “Yes, especially from you.  You’ve never given me the impression that you’ve…been interested.” 

He just grins, and you still with shock over just how ridiculously sheepish and handsome he looks kneeling before you.  

Maybe...there was something here.  

Something you never considered because you’ve been blinded by Hoseok standing in the way.

Before you can jump on that train of thought, you manage to focus on what you were trying to say.

“Would you be willing to give me some time?” You ask him quietly.

His eyes widen and you can see him trying to fight back a smile at your words.  

“You…you’re not outright rejecting me?” He asks in surprise.

Smiling at his shock, you merely shake your head.

“No, I’m not.  But...knowing I have feelings for someone else has to have you lose some  interest.” You tell him, not even posing it as a question.  

You know it’s not something most people would tolerate.

“Hey…I’ve had a feeling that you two had a thing at some point.  It didn’t make me any less interested in you. And…I’ll be honest…” His eyes graze over you slowly, causing your face to flush at the deepening of his voice.

But it’s nothing compared to how his next words turn your world upside down.

“I’ve always seen you as a woman.  And not just any woman…an intelligent, strong and beautiful woman.”

His fingers brush your cheek, collecting the tear that leaks down your face as he gives you his signature lopsided smile.

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

Time seems to fly by, yet it feels as if you’re trudging along in a slow fog all at once.

Since your coffee meeting with Yoongi, your emotions have been all over the place.

The one good thing about being in this state is that your writing block is nonexistent.

After getting home from your talk, you’d naturally gone to your laptop and opened it, your thoughts racing like mad.

On a whim, you just started writing.

Pouring your heart out into the void of white on your screen, tears blurring your eyes as you let your imagination work through some of the confusion and stress that had been building.

Knowing this would never see the light of day, you just ran with it; allowing your frustrations out on your fictional characters as day bled into night, then into day again.

Picking up your mug, you pause as you realize that it’s empty.  

Glancing around, you blink at the morning sun peeking through the blinds, suddenly feeling a yawn claw its way out as you stretch and crack your neck.

6:44am, the clock seems to judge you with its ticking second hand.  

Well…you’ve definitely gotten quite a lot of work done, even if it’s never going to become anything.

Standing to stretch out your back, you glance around at your empty apartment.

The tension headache you’d developed over the last week still lingered, but you felt a bit lighter now that you’ve worked through the swirl of emotions that had been threatening to drown you.

Padding into the kitchen, you turn on your electric kettle and lean against the counter to wait, thinking back on the way you’d left things with Yoongi.  

His words still didn’t seem real, and you can’t help but think about him on his knees before you.

His long dark hair hanging in his eyes, one side tucked behind his ear.

Eyes narrowed, biting his lip as he professed his concern for you.  

It would be a bold faced lie to say you’d never looked at him as a woman does a man.

You and your girlfriends had often had some seriously depraved conversations about the men in your friends group, but you felt that was only natural.

You hung out with a group of handsome men, who wouldn’t give them the once over and imagine?

When you’d all first started hanging out, it was impossible to not find them all attractive.  

Have you ever even considered Yoongi?

For certain you’d appreciated his looks, his deep voice, his laid back demeanor.  

But from the beginning, it was always Hoseok’s sunny smile taking up your entire vision.

Gorgeous, cheerful, energetic-you had both been drawn to each other in a way you couldn’t explain.  

It was easy to get sucked into his energy, to let yourself get swept away.  

Before long, you and Hoseok were best friends, sharing everything with one another.

All of your friends were convinced that one day you’d just announce that you were together.  

Yet here you were, eight years later, hearing that he didn’t even see you as a woman.

That sentence just stuck like popcorn lodged in your gums; the more you teased at it and tried to dig it out, the more painful it became.

Then Yoongi out of the blue drops that bomb on you.

As much as you know you have to work through these emotions for Hoseok, you can’t help but think about how there’s really nothing to get over.

You never had anything together.

Sure, he flirted and teased.

Yeah, he almost always had to touch you, be next to you.

But…there was nothing more.

Not one kiss.

Not even an “almost anything”.  

In the end, it seems like it was just his way of being your best friend and you resent that you feel like he’s hurt you in some way.

He hadn’t done anything wrong and there wasn’t even anything to be angry at.

Sighing, you pour some hot water over a teabag, forcing your thoughts away from Hoseok for the moment.

Your last conversation with Yoongi replays in your mind as you steep your tea, a small warmth blooming in your stomach at the memory.

Not much had been said that hadn’t been talked about over coffee; he’d walked you home as you both awkwardly discussed going forward.

“I hope you don’t feel any pressure to give me an answer-” He’d said as you approached your building.

His hands were in his pockets, dark strands dangling as he kicked at the pavement outside of your building.

It was a rare sight to see Min Yoongi being shy and nervous, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him.

Stepping forward, you’d drawn his gaze, his eyebrows raising as you cut him off.  

“Yoongi, do you want to come over sometime this week and watch a movie?”

Your words had shut him up for a solid thirty seconds as he blinked at your invitation.

“Eh?” He finally managed, then he was tilting his head in confusion.  “I thought you needed time?”

“Time to think about things, yes.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.  Unless you’d rather not-” 

“No-I mean, yes, sure, I’d love to come watch a movie.”

Even now, you can’t help but smile at the delight in his dark eyes before he looked away, even as he clucked his tongue and cleared his throat.

Shuffling back to your cozy chair, you check your phone and notice a bunch of missed texts.  

Of course, you think, opening the familiar name on the screen.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hey, are you sleeping?”

“I bet you’re writing and you have no idea what time it is! GO TO SLEEP!” 

Shaking your head and smiling, you just ignore Hoseok’s texts for now, scrolling through the others just checking in and saying hello.

Reluctantly, you make your way to your room, slightly annoyed that Hoseok knew you well enough to call it.

“Jerk.” You mutter, curling up with your blankets and drifting off.

“I swear, you guys just want something to gossip about.”  Hoseok scolded the nosy men in the room.  

“Don’t lump me in with them.” Namjoon says, turning his back to ignore the chatty trio.  

“Really, though, what would happen if she got a boyfriend?”  Jimin was asking, glancing at Taehyung as if to ask him for backup.  

Hoseok just leans back, sighing as he rests his hands behind him.  

“Then I would congratulate her and wish her well.”  He shoots back without hesitation, shaking his head.

He ignores the looks the two share, nodding at Yoongi as he makes his way into the practice room.

“Really? Just like that?” Taehyung asks, disbelief in his voice.

“Just like that.” Hoseok responds, shrugging his shoulders.  “You’re all overly concerned with my personal life right now.”

Yoongi stays silent, merely observing as they continue their conversation.  

“So, if-” Taehyung begins but Hoseok groans in annoyance, giving him a dark look that stops his question.

“If you’re not going to focus on practice-” He growls, causing the two to scramble and make excuses about things they need to do.

“What is it with these questions lately?” Hoseok mumbles, shaking his head as he stands to resume his choreography.  

Yoongi just grunts in response as he turns to focus on his own work.

Answering the door, you smile as you’re greeted with Yoongi’s familiar smiling face.  

Opening the door wider to allow him in, you can’t help but admire how handsome and soft he looks.

He’s wearing a loose grey sweater and jeans, and his long dark hair is pulled up into a half ponytail.  

Honestly, he looks...really sexy.

“I brought snacks.” He says, holding up the bag as he walks in and takes off his shoes.  

“Great!” You respond, taking the bag to the kitchen to put into little bowls so you can enjoy them during your show.

It’s been almost a month now that he’s been coming over for a movie night, making this number five.  

They weren’t dates, necessarily.  

Nothing had happened.

You’ve talked, laughed, watched movies, dramas, music videos.

Chatted about work, food, life in general.

Everything but touched on the topic that started all of this.

The respect he has had for you has been amazing, not once asking about your feelings towards anything, never inquiring about Hoseok or being intrusive in any way.

And he almost always sat with something between the two of you on the large couch, you think, watching him make his way to his normal spot.

Much had changed in a month, yet it also felt as if you were in this kind of limbo with Yoongi.

Of course, you were well aware that you were the one who asked for time.  

Hoseok had started to notice the little things as well.

Once upon a time, you’d have been on the phone with him at least a few times a week, ranting about your most recent writing project, or listening to him talk about dance practice and everything in between.

Those calls had slowly dwindled as you found yourself focusing more on yourself, on your work, on learning how to exist without him being your primary focus.  

On the other hand, you had been exchanging alot more conversation with Yoongi over this time.  

You’d been friends with him just as long as you have been with Hoseok and the others, yet you were learning things about him you never knew.

As you set the dishes down on the coffee table, you glance at where the pillow sits beside Yoongi, creating a makeshift barrier between the two of you.  

It wasn’t a sudden thought to remove it and toss it, to slide in beside him and see what it felt like for Yoongi to be the one to pull you into his side, to lay his head on yours as you curled into him.

No, it wasn’t sudden at all, it has been building up over these little drama dates you’ve been having with him.  

Settling on the couch beside the pillow, you chew your lip, considering how to even go about wanting to close the distance with him.  

Perhaps it was still too early, you think, returning his smile as he looks over at you, nodding along to his suggestions for your selection of the night. 

You both settle on a drama that has been airing, finding yourself involved and before long, two hours have passed.  

“Did you want to sleep or-?” He asks, turning to you as he holds the remote in his hand.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to watch another.” You say softly, admiring him as he gives you a cute little smile as he turns to queue up the next episode.  

“Alright, bathroom break, I’ll be right back.”  He says, wandering off down your hallway.

“Need anything while I’m up?” you ask, going to get two more water bottles.  

“I’m good!” He calls as you go to sit back down.

You hesitate a moment before you grasp the irritating pillow and toss it over to the chair beside you.  

“There.” you mumble, proud of yourself before you’re filled with a sudden anxiousness as he comes to join you again.  

“Oh…” he says, eyeing the now empty space between you, glancing at you in askance as he sits down.

“It was in the way.” You say, cheeks heating as he nods slowly, and you catch the cute little eye twitch as he settles into the couch.  

“Ready?” He asks, side eyeing you as you adjust so you’re a bit closer to him.

“Yep.” You nod, trying to act nonchalant.

It’s slow, but as you make your way through the next hour-long episode, you find yourself bumping his knee with yours when you exclaim about what is going on.

Leaning in as you laugh, turning to see if his reaction matches your own.

Little by little the distance closes before your shoulder is brushing his, his deep throaty laughter evoking little tummy trembles.

And before you know it, you’re more focused on his facial expressions, his little grunts of surprise, the way his lips turn down as he finds something displeasing on the screen.  

Swallowing heavily, you reach out to brush an errant strand of hair back, causing him to freeze in place.

“Oh…sorry…you just…I-”  

“It’s fine.” He says, his eyes no longer taking in the show as his gaze sweeps over you.  

Your breath hitches a bit as you watch his adam’s apple bob, swallowing as  he licks his lips and clears his throat.

Brushing the strand back, you catch his dark gaze as it lingers on your lips, causing your stomach to flip.

He winces as he meets your eyes, clucking his tongue in that adorable way he does.

“Are you enjoying the show?” He asks, his voice a bit deeper and softer than normal and you can only nod as your fingers linger on the soft strands of his hair.

Somehow you’ve moved directly beside him, and you find yourself wondering what the exact distance is between his mouth and yours.

He clears his throat once more as he watches your gaze drop to his lips, seemingly unsure of what to say or do next.  

“I am.” You respond softly, your eyes just taking in the entirety of his face this close, unable to resist rubbing the silken strands between your fingertips.  

“Are you?” You ask after a long pause, the voices on the television fading into the background as you hear your heart thump in your chest.

How long had it been since you’d kissed someone? you wonder.

Since someone touched you in ways that were anything but friendly?

Feeling almost starved, you blush as you watch your hand tremble as you tuck his hair, your fingertips skimming the shell of his ear.

Suddenly, his hand is around your wrist, gently halting your motion as he studies your eyes.

“I don’t mean to sound…rude but…” He halts as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his lashes fluttering as he appears to calm himself.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing right now?” He asks huskily, the timbre of his voice seeming to tickle something so deep within you that the very awareness of it is enough to cause you to squirm.

You hesitate to answer him, but not because you’re unsure of your response.

No, you need him to know that you’re very much aware.

Holding his gaze, your teeth capture your bottom lip as you nod slowly, intentionally.

“Good.” He grates out.

Within the next breath, the distance is bridged and his lips are capturing yours, the fingers around your wrist loosening as they trail down your forearm.

You don’t even have time to feel ashamed of the needy moan that gets lost in the depths of his mouth, because he’s too busy slipping his fingers up into your hair, kneading your scalp as his lips quiver against yours.

The show is forgotten as you both cling to one another, his free arm slipping around you to tug you closer.

Your fingers finally delve into the long, satin strands of hair that have been tempting you for weeks.

It’s a shock and yet not surprising at all when your hand slips over his back, across his shoulders and you feel the taut muscles bunching as he slowly pulls you ever closer to him.

You’re not even sure which noises are his and which are yours as you allow, no, you encourage him to tug you halfway onto his lap.  

Before you know it, you’re looking down at him, your fingers skimming his cheek as your lips part and meet, again and again with hot breathy sighs and groans.

“Yoongi-” You breathe out, and you can’t help but flush with shame at the desperation in your wavering voice.

He freezes suddenly at the sound of his name, unsure as he pulls back to check on you.  

The whine that escapes you as he withdraws causes his eyes to widen with concern, misunderstanding the meaning behind the embarrassing noise.  

“Too much-?” 

Unable to stop yourself, you straddle him properly, one thigh on either side of his, crushing your mouth to his as you cut off his sentence.

“No-” you manage as his hands immediately grasp your hips, a soft groan escaping him as you cup his face.  

It’s as if every touch of his is burning a trail along your body as his palms skim up your sides, sliding around your back, then down to cup your ass.  

Your head is swimming with the sensation overload as you roll your hips against him, finally realizing how very hard he is.  

Heat pools in your abdomen as his fingers knead your plush ass, his tongue dancing delicately over yours between his breathy groans.  

Your hand slips between you, a sudden need causing you to tug at the button of his jeans.  

Belatedly, you register how his body freezes, his hands gripping you to still you as he slows the kiss.

Drawing back, you swallow harshly, doing your best to not cry out at the loss of his lips on yours.  

His dark, anxious eyes study you as he brings a hand up to trace your cheek, and it takes you a moment to realize that those gorgeous lips are moving, that he’s speaking to you.

“Hey…woah…let’s slow down for a moment…” 

His voice sounds almost pained, gravelly and hoarse as he clears his throat.

“Yoongi?” You ask softly, concerned that you may have pushed him a bit too far, that maybe he doesn't want this.

He clears his throat again, eyes darting down to your lips before he looks away.

Yet he keeps you seated right there in his lap as he finally manages to get his words out.

“Let’s talk before…” His thumb caresses your cheek gently and you can feel his body shudder under yours as you blink at him.  

Nodding, you take a deep breath, pushing down the desperation and need within you in order to clear your mind.

“As much as I want you…want this…we should have a conversation.” He continues, finally meeting your eyes once more, “I don’t want to rush into anything either of us will regret.”

You process his words slowly, chest heaving as you do your best to calm yourself.  

The emotions that had gradually been building for him over this past month seem to evolve at his care for you, making your next words hold even more weight.

You slip your fingers into his hair, brushing it back as you admire the man you’d come to see as much more than a friend.  

“Yoongi…I like you, too.” You manage, your voice hoarse with the need you’ve pushed back for the moment.  

His eyebrows twitch upwards, lips parting with the tiniest little gasp as you smile softly at him.

“I want you…I want this. I want…more.” 

His eyelashes flutter at your words, eyes closing slowly as if he’s savoring the meaning behind them, the gravity of them.

“Are you sure? I don’t want something casual. We both deserve more than that.” He says before opening those deep chocolate eyes to observe you, gauging your reaction closely.

Without hesitation, you nod, running your thumb over his beautiful lashes.  

“I wouldn’t do that to you or myself, Yoongi.  I don’t want a pillow between us anymore.” You whisper, leaning down to brush your lips over his.  “I wouldn’t have removed it if I wasn’t ready for this. For us.” 

Your eyes are locked on his as you do so, curling your lips gently as his arm slips around your waist to hold you close.

“What about…Hoseok?” He whispers hesitantly, apprehension written all over his face.  

You knew this would come up, and it’s all that’s been on your mind over the weeks since he’d confessed.

Emotions are so complicated and slippery, especially when nothing is clear, when all you have is doubts and nothing is ever communicated.  

He watches patiently as you try to think of how to communicate the choice you’ve made properly to him, so he won’t think this is a rash decision on your part.

“I’ve had years to process those emotions, and nothing has ever come of it.  Perhaps it’s because I never communicated them properly, or maybe I just didn’t have the courage to face the rejection.” 

You smile fondly at him as he listens intently, your heart stuttering at the complete open trust and acceptance in his eyes.  

“Honestly, I’ve been blinded by my own wants and needs for so long with him, yet I never took the time to find out how he felt.  He’s my friend, and that will never change.  As much as it hurt to hear how he truly felt about me, I needed that. I can’t be even remotely mad or upset with him, as it’s me who was hurting myself all this time.”

“What I feel, or felt for Hoseok has nothing to do with you and I.  It’s a fleeting possibility that I spent far too long being preoccupied with.  I didn’t need the time I asked for just to solidify how I felt about you, Yoongi.” 

As you speak, you can feel the confidence and determination in your words as he holds you close, giving you the courage to continue.

“I wanted to make sure that when and if I was able to take this step with you, I would be giving you all of me.  Not just fragments warring with an unrequited crush for someone else.  I’m laying that part of me to rest, even if you decide that you want to stop right here.  That you want to just stay friends-”

The limbo you’ve both been suspended in seems to pop like a bubble as he suddenly flips you on your back, drawing out a small surprised cry from you.

“That’s all I need to hear.” He growls, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

The force behind it has your teeth digging into his lips, his tongue plunging into your mouth desperately as you meet his need with your own.  

Clinging to the soft fabric of his sweater, your legs slip around his thighs as he presses you into the couch with his hips.

His erection is even more prominent in this position as he presses wet kisses along your jaw, his hands slipping down to slip under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist.

Soft cries leave your parted lips as he rolls his hips, your already damp panties starting to soak through as he grinds against you.  

“I don’t want to be just friends.” The heat of his breath brushing over your neck causes you to shiver, your fingers grasping frantically at his sweater until your fingertips meet the hem, slipping your hands up his naked back.

“Give me all of you.” The rough timbre of his voice alone has you arching your back as he helps you yank his sweater over his head, tossing carelessly to the side.

The sight of him bare chested, hovering over you with that long hair hanging down almost undoes you right there and then.  

Placing your hands on his stomach, you run your palms slowly upwards, enjoying each and every twitch and spasm you extract.  

The way he bites his lip, the soft, throaty gasps.

How his eyes seem to darken to onyx in lust.

Pushing against him, you sit up as you slip your hands up his chest to his shoulders, then down his arms.  

Without uttering a word, you take his hand and tug him up, leading him to the darkened doorway of your room.  

As you reach the edge of your bed, he spins you around, tugging your shirt over your head before crushing his mouth against yours once more.

Your head spins from his familiar fragrance of warm spice and tobacco from his cologne, reveling in the fact that he’s covering you in his scent.

Rough calluses brush against your bare flesh, his hands eager yet gentle as he explores you as if they’re dying of thirst and your body is the only thing that can sustain him.  

He reacts to each soft whimper, every drawn out moan with his own, heightening the ache between your legs as he backs you towards the bed.

Your nails graze lightly down his back as his teeth nip the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue laving at the tiny marks he’s leaving behind.  

“Harder.” he commands, his hands finally slipping down to grab handfuls of your ass to press you into him.  

Without even having to question what he means, you dig your nails into the skin of his back, raking them harshly down his skin to leave angry red lines behind.  

The room upends as he topples you onto the firm mattress, clinging to one another as you tug and pull, your hands finally making their way back to the button of his pants.

This time he doesn’t stop you, propping himself up to watch as you yank and unzip, pushing down the material keeping him from you.

His ragged panting fills the air around you as he helps you kick them off along with his boxers, your stomach tightening as you encircle his cock as it springs out.  

“Oh fuck-” He grunts, hips jerking forward as you stroke along the length.

Before you can respond, he’s returning the favor, yanking off your pants, leaving you only in your bra and panties beneath him.  

“You’re so fucking beautiful-” his voice is coarse as he rakes his gaze over you, dipping down to press his face between your breasts to inhale you.

“Yoongi…” You whimper, shivering as his hair tickles your sensitive skin as your hands slip around his back to stroke over the harsh marks you’ve left.  

He settles his weight on you, his hips dragging the underside of his dick along your panties as he palms your breasts through the fabric of your bra.  

“So soft..” He mumbles, tugging down the lace harshly and at this point, you don’t give a damn if he’s torn it.  

His words contrast with the feel of him against you, stiff, thick and throbbing as you soak through your panties with every motion he makes. 

“Yoongi, oh my god-you’re driving me-insane-” You manage to stutter as he wraps his lips around your taut nipple, suckling gently as he gazes up at your flushed face.

Your fingers find their way back into his hair, grasping desperately as he grins, his eyes shining with delight, your other hand clinging to his shoulder for dear life.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, slowly kissing his way along the valley of your tits, making his way over to give the other fair treatment.

His warm breath tickles your skin, and you suck in a sharp breath as he laughs softly at how you’re reacting to him.

“Lose your mind then, love.  I’ve been losing mine over you for years.” 

He punctuates the words with a harsh suck as he claims your other nipple, causing your back to arch for him, digging your nails into his shoulder as you tug at his hair.  

Your eyes roll as he circles his tongue around the tightened bud, his eyes never leaving your face as the ache between your thighs throbs with need at his every touch.  

Years…

You’ve seen many sides of Min Yoongi but nothing compares to the sheer control he has right now, all while holding back the desperate need you can see in his stare.

Your cries grow louder as he reaches between you, his strong hand gripping the side of your panties and ripping the flimsy material, flinging them to the side. 

The moment your panties are gone, his fingers are slipping between your lower lips, parting them as he lets out a soft, deep whimper of his own.   

You barely register his hand slipping behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra to tug off the now damaged garment.

Your mind is consumed by how deftly his fingers tease at your core, his thumb honing in on your sensitive clit.

“You’re so gorgeous like this…” he rasps out, eyes hooded as he watches you arch your back as he gently circles his thumb, licking his lips as his breathing becomes even more ragged.

Choking back a moan, you writhe under his palm as he teases a fingertip into you before pulling back to rake his eyes over your naked form.  

The tightness in your stomach builds as you shudder beneath him, yanking harshly on the hair clenched in your fist.  

The moment he flashes that sexy lopsided smile, you can’t hold back anymore.  

The last thing you want to do is lie here losing your mind when he looks far too in control.  

“Min Yoongi, if you aren’t buried deep inside of me in the next ten seconds-”

Your words are punctuated by another tug of his hair, your legs slipping around his thighs, hips tilting to offer yourself up to him in desperation.

Before you can even finish your sentence, his mouth is on yours once more, his fingers parting from you to guide the head of his cock against your aching entrance.

He lets out a shuddering breath against your lips, a soft groan building in his throat as you feel him start to sink into your warmth.  

He brings his hand up to cup your face as he slowly fills you, the sound of your name on his lips swallowed up as you deepen the kiss.  

You gasp as you feel yourself clench around him, your body already shaking beneath him as he draws back just to thrust forward once more.  

“Fuck-!” he growls as his lips leave yours, looking down between you to watch his cock delve into you, “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” 

All you can muster is a moan, then a sharp gasp as he pulls almost all the way out, then thrusts forward suddenly as he bottoms out within you.  

“Yoongi!” you cry out, wet noises filling the room as he starts snapping his hips into you, setting a hard but steady pace.

All you can do is watch his face as he fucks you, that gorgeous dark hair dangling above you as he bites his lip in concentration.  

“Look at me.” you demand between moans, drawing his attention back to you.  

His eyes flick up to your face, then rake down your body and back up as the force of his thrusts cause your body to shake beneath him.  

“I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you, fuck you feel so good-” He moans as he dips down to reclaim your lips.  

“Don’t fucking stop-” you whimper between kisses, and he only responds by grasping your wrist and pinning it over your head.  

His mouth leaves yours, hot breath skimming over your chin, then your neck as he kisses and licks his way over to your ear.  

“Do you like it when I fuck your pretty little pussy?” He growls, the deep tone of his voice sending a shock through your body alone.  

His pace quickens as you tighten around him, your moans and whimpers only encouraging him as you begin to feel the familiar need building in your abdomen.  

“Fuck, yes, Yoongi! Harder!” you scream, the heat of his breath, the sounds of his guttural moans vibrating in your eardrum pushing you closer and closer to tipping over that precipice.

Your back arches, angling your hips so that he’s hitting your sensitive clit with each thrust as his cries grow louder, melding with your own. 

The sound of your name in your ear almost undoes you, and you let out a choked scream as he draws back to look down at you.  

“So close-” you gasp as he releases your wrist, threading his fingers with yours above your head.  

“Yeah, baby? Gonna come for me?” he rasps out as he watches your face contort with every motion.

You nod your head frantically, feeling as if you’re balanced on a tightwire and all you want to do is fall off.  

You can feel his entire body quaking as he continues to speak, the sexiest filth dripping from his lips in that rich deep voice.  

“Let me feel you come around my cock, baby, that’s it.  You’re all mine, all fucking mine, and I’m all yours-fuck! God, your cunt is perfect, so tight and wet, I just want to fill you full-”

Each word is like a nudge, and finally the sensation that’s been bubbling up within you this entire time seems to erupt from every single cell in your body as you finally tip over the edge.

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” is all your brain can manage as your orgasm crashes into you, clenching tightly around him as your body lifts from the bed.

Your strangled cries are met with his own, ripped from his throat as his eyes widen, his lips parting in an “o��� as he throws his head back and thrusts forward once more.

A warm burst fills you as his whole body tenses above you, trying your hardest to watch him fall apart along with you.  

The ringing in your ears starts to fade, and the only sounds in the room are your combined labored breathing as he slowly lowers himself down to nuzzle his face into your neck.  

You gasp as you involuntarily clench around him, a hoarse moan escaping him as he slowly gives you a few small thrusts as he finally empties himself deep inside of you.

Swallowing harshly, you do your best to catch your breath as you comb your fingers through his damp hair.

You’re both covered in sweat, you think, a small smile curling your lips as you close your eyes and bask in the after effects of your joining.

“Fuck.” Yoongi grumbles into your neck, his lips dancing over your sticky skin.  

“Mhm.” you agree, humming softly.  

Floating through the haze of bliss, you finally open your eyes as you feel him draw back, withdrawing from you to leave a wet mess seeping out.  

Your eyes meet his and he just gives you a sleepy smile as you continue to run your fingers through the strands of his hair.  

He rolls you both to the side, arms wrapped around you as he kisses you softly, no words spoken for what seems like eternity.

No words are really needed, just soft touches, kisses, little smiles and laughs as your eyes meet.

The sun starts to creep through the blinds before he finally whispers that he will return in a moment, leaving you only long enough to bring back a warm cloth to clean you up a bit.  

Blushing slightly, you help do the same for him, tossing the cloth into the laundry before you settle back into his arms.  

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he lets out a long breath.

“You’re not leaving yet, right? You’ll stay for a bit?” You ask him, finally breaking the silence as the birds sing outside the window.

He laughs softly, propping himself up to look down at you with an eyebrow raised.  

“Of course I’m not just leaving…unless you’re kicking me out?” He responds, biting his lip as he runs his finger along your shoulder.  

You snort, shaking your head, “Sorry, no.  You told me you’re all mine so I think I may just keep you.”  

You do your best to keep a straight face, failing horribly as he feigns shock, his brows drawing together adorably as he protests.

“You think?!” he teases, sliding his arm around you to pull you closer, rolling you both so you’re on top of him.  

“Hmm…” you straddle his hips, brushing back his dark strands as you admire the handsome man beneath you, “I can be convinced…”

He gives you that familiar gummy smile you love so much before he’s growling out your name, tugging your mouth to his as he laughs.  

“Oh, really? I’m actually quite good at pleading my case…” he hums as his hands slip down to take two handfuls of your ass.  

“By all means-”

It’s midday by the time you both manage to uncling to one another.

“I shouldn’t have let you shower with me…” you hum as you make coffee, shaking your head as you feel his arms wrap around you from behind.  

“Well, we were just conserving water…” he answers, and you can’t help but giggle as you contemplate what to make for an early dinner.

By the time you get around you checking your phone, you sigh at the many missed messages and calls.

“I think Hoseok is going to send the police to my house.” you tell Yoongi as you both sit down to finally eat something.  

He just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he gestures to your phone.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up yet, honestly.” He grumbles, taking a bite as you read through your messages.

“Well that would be a fun conversation…” you hum, biting your lip as you contemplate how that is going to go over with everyone.

“Speaking of…” Yoongi says, placing his utensils down as he leans back to look at you.

You glance at him, knowing what he’s thinking. 

“Should probably leave that to me.” You tell him before he can continue.

Feeling suddenly shy, you clear your throat as you look over at him.

He’s only wearing a pair of your sweats, his naked shoulders and chest distracting you as you try to think of your next words.  

“We are…together ... .like…” you gesture with your hands, embarrassed at asking. 

He only blinks at you, shock on his face before he is leaning forward and taking your hand.  

“Are you asking if I’m your boyfriend now?” He asks, an amused lopsided smile growing on his face at how flustered you are.

You just slap his hand, but then slip your fingers through his, nodding shyly.  

“Yes, baby.  I told you last night…I want you.  All of you.”  he whispers.

Your eyes meet his and you can only blush, your cheeks heating at his words.  

“You have me, then.  All of me.” you tell him.  

“Where the fuck is she?” Hoseok mutters, doing his best to contain the rising panic as he makes his way to your apartment building.  

Checking his phone for the hundredth time since last night, he sighs.  

Over the last month, it feels as if you’ve been withdrawing more and more, but you still respond to his messages.

If he’s being honest, it didn’t feel very good.

All he can think of is the comments everyone has been making.  

What if she does end up dating?

What if she has someone she likes?

Hoseok can only frown as he finally gets in the elevator to take him up to see you.

Of course, that would eventually happen.

Someone she’s interested in, other than me, he thinks.

The idea is so completely foreign, he has a hard time wrapping his mind around it.  

More important than me?

Shaking off the thought and this feeling of discontent it brings, he pushes himself off the side of the elevator wall as the doors open.

Making his way down your hallway, he glances up as your door opens, a sense of relief filling him as he hears your familiar laugh.

That relief is short-lived as he hears a man’s voice responding to your voice.

Not just any man’s voice-

He stops in shock as he watches you emerge from your apartment, hand in hand with another man.

He can’t make out the words, but his heart seems to drop into his stomach as he recognizes the owner of the hand in yours.

Min Yoongi.

Fucking Min Yoongi…holding your hand.

The hand holding his phone clenches tightly as he watches his friend lean in and brush your hair back, your eyes seeming to dance with happiness as you gaze at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he hears faintly as he watches you nod to him.

“Tomorrow.” he hears your voice respond.

The world seems to stop as he watches two of his closest friends lean towards each other and kiss.

“No way…” he whispers, but it’s not amusement or happiness at watching two obvious lovers leaving one another.

No…against everything that is logical, he feels a burning rage and betrayal building deep in his stomach.

Before he can even process it, he’s turning on his heel, making his way to the emergency stairs and rushing down and out of the building before either of you notice him.

His phone starts to buzz as he makes his way home, and he sends it to voicemail immediately.

He can’t even form the words to say to you right now.

Not while he’s feeling like this.  

Whatever this was.

[sixosix]

can i go where you go? | kaedehara kazuha

warnings 2.2k words, lots of kissing… like srsly, pure fluff, kazuha is a cutie, not a slick cutie though, friends to lovers!!

or, three times Kazuha keeps kissing you on ‘accident’.

The first time Kazuha kissed you, it was on Beidou’s ship.

You're only partially awake, your eyelids heavy, and you move with a slow, languid pace as Kazuha escorts you towards The Alcor. The wind hums as it caresses the sails, accompanied by the lively shouts and cheers of the crew on board.

“So early,” you mutter, sighing. “Too early. Sun isn’t even out yet.”

“It will be, soon,” Kazuha says, smiling at you in the same way that he always does. Tender, as comforting as the ocean pooling on your feet as you walk by the shore. “You mentioned you wanted to meet the Captain, didn’t you? Tilt your head a little.” Although he says it, his finger comes to your chin and gently directs your gaze himself.

He’s gesturing to the woman standing at the quarterdeck, her hands resting on her hips and her shoulders remarkably broad. She turns as if hearing Kazuha’s soft voice amidst the boisterous chatter. Your jaw goes slack in awe, excitement washing away the last traces of fatigue tugging your bones as everything you’ve heard about Captain Beidou from Kazuha comes rushing back.

Kazuha steadies you with a hand on the small of your back as your knees falter when climbing the ship.

“Captain Beidou!” You bow deeply, lowering your head to your waist, arms outstretched to offer her the sake and the sakura mochi you made the night before—which cost you sleep, but it is worth more than anything when you get to gift the woman who took care of your best friend when you couldn’t. “Thank you so much for letting me tag along. Please take this.”

Kazuha and Beidou glance at each other in surprise.

Kazuha starts, “You didn’t have—”

“No,” you say, firm. “This is the least I can do. Don’t try, Kazuha.”

Kazuha’s expression eases to a smile. “Alright.”

“I like this one, Kazuha,” Beidou says, ruffling your hair, and leaving stray strands on your head. She grins at you, all wide and wild. “Where’s he been hiding ya, huh, kid?”

“Somewhere in Inazuma.”

She laughs; it sounds like the roaring waves of the ocean. “Thank you. I’ll share it with my crew.” She turns, looking at you over her shoulder. You feel the hair on your arms rise to attention. “Let me know if you need anything, but Kazuha probably will see to it faster than any of us could.”

You’re not exactly sure what she means, though you can pick up on the knowing smirk she throws at your best friend.

“Men, to your posts!” she orders. Kazuha takes it as a cue to take your hand and lead you somewhere far more secluded.

No one’s watching; at least, not to your knowledge. The crew knows well enough they have their own business to attend to, and that no one should be interrupting Kaedehara Kazuha when catching up with his best friend since childhood, you.

Kazuha is a wanderer first and foremost. He does not like to be tied down to one place—he’d itch and wander off if you try to keep him at bay. However, there is one exception; one that has him visiting his homeland whenever he can, even when he is dangerously most sought after. When the wind subsides to a gentle whisper in his ears, the waves are gentle when splashing against the ship, and the crew is fast asleep, Kazuha finds himself stealing glances in the general direction of Inazuma. He knows you’re likely sleeping soundly there, expecting him.

This is what gets him to bring home whatever he may find along the way just to give them to you. If anyone asks, Kazuha would reply with a vague: “For someone special to me, in my land of birth.” Anyone would have guessed that, though, given the assortment of flowers Kazuha never fails to bring home.

You find yourself swaying back and forth along with the ship, your mouth running miles per minute as you talk to him on and on about how you’ve never been to Liyue before and your hands are shaking from excitement—or perhaps nerves, and how is Kazuha looking so calm and why is he smiling at you weirdly?

Kazuha has that fond look in the crinkle of his eyes. “Are you certain you’re not feeling sick? Lightheaded?”

Although the heavy rocking of the ship is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, you only feel the anticipation. Thrill. You’ve seen glimpses of Liyue from the letters Kazuha sends; you’re positive nothing can compare to the real deal, and that is what has you giddy, kicking your legs against the wood.

The early morning air crept beneath your clothes and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shudder; Kazuha leans against you, the warmth of his body relaxing you immediately.

The world falls completely silent as you gaze at him.

“Kazuha,” you breathe out, eyes round with wonder, “thank you for taking me with you.” Kazuha goes still as you brush a stray of hair away from your face a little shyly. “It probably doesn’t mean much because you’re always traveling, and it’s probably such a hassle to be my tour guide, but I’m—mmph.”

The rest of your words are swallowed by Kazuha’s lips, and you, undoubtedly silenced by the press of his soft lips against yours. You have your eyes wide open, frozen as you watch the sunrise from the horizon over Kazuha’s shoulder, casting him an unreal golden glow.

Kazuha quickly pulls back and looks as startled as you feel. The kiss was about half a second, and it took nearly a minute for the both of you to process what had just happened.

He frowns, though it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Sorry,” he says slowly, as though he’s just been brought back up from underwater. “That was—”

“It’s fine,” you blurt, hoping the sunrise would disguise your stunned expression. “The ship—uh, it’s swaying pretty hard. You probably lost balance or something.” However, speaking it aloud sounds wrong. Kazuha just doesn’t lose balance: he’s the most seasoned samurai you’ve met in your life.

Then again, that would leave an empty room of explanation, one of which you’d rather not set foot in.

“Yes.” The sunrise has Kazuha looking a little pink. Or should it be orange? “Allow me to fetch us a bottle of water. You might get seasick.”

“Sure,” you murmur, though it’s lost to the howl of the wind as Kazuha swiftly jumps down, his Vision glowing on his back. The sensation in your stomach doesn’t seem like seasickness.

He doesn’t talk about it, so you don’t bring it up.

The second time happens in public.

The moment you set foot in Liyue Harbor, Kazuha realizes he must reach for your wrist to prevent you from straying and getting lost. You dart from one corner to the next, exploring every stall, even stray dogs and running children.

“Liyue feels so…warm.”

It could be the orange glow of their lights, painting over the region with an unbeatable shade and atmosphere, perfectly replicating what it would be like sitting across a fireplace. Or it could be Kazuha’s hand intertwined with yours.

“Hearing that relieves me,” Kazuha admits, pulling you to the side as two men pushing crates on wheels rush past. “You are often unpredictable in what you like and dislike.”

You laugh, “Were you worried that you overhyped it? You tend to be descriptive with what you write back to me—what was it? The flavorful aroma coming from street vendors, the squeals of youth whistling past, the seagulls, and the waves of the ocean audible even amidst the bustling crowds… I can see it.”

“You remember all of that?” Kazuha looks adorable when bashful.

The sun is already at its highest peak. Sweat has started to form around your hairline; Kazuha had to buy you popsicles, which you got from the Wanmin Restaurant. The popsicle is entirely blue, nearly translucent, and tastes like eating just ice, but it effectively cools you down. Kazuha doesn’t appear bothered by the heat in the slightest, going as far as to insist on carrying all the souvenirs you’ve been purchasing.

He has only one arm full, though. The other is free and linked with yours.

“You didn’t tell me one important thing, though,” you say.

Kazuha blinks once, then furrows his brows. “What is it?” He looks sincerely worried.

“You didn’t tell me you’re famous,” you tease, nudging a red-faced Kazuha with your elbow. “Oh, it’s Kaedehara, you’re back! And here I thought you were like a celebrity in Inazuma. You might just be well-loved everywhere.” Well, who could blame them? You’re no better than the people of Teyvat.

He shakes his head. “Far from it,” he insists, ever the modest guy. “I just happen to be caught up with The Crux.”

“Those ladies seem to disagree. They were trying to impress you, you know.”

Kazuha shifts uncomfortably, his face a funny shade of pink. “I did not pay close enough attention. I apologize.”

A laugh escapes you, in disbelief. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“I did not realize you were the jealous type.”

You gawk at his words, spinning around to see that a hint of something smug playing on his lips. “That’s not—You… shut up. I’m not.”

Kazuha opens his mouth to say something stupid to fluster you probably, but you’re quicker. You retrieve a container wrapped in plastic, its surface moist from the steam within. Kazuha falls silent, his watchful gaze fixed on you as you unwrap it, his nose undoubtedly detecting a familiar and enticing aroma.

“This is…” Kazuha picks one stick up and observes it. “Mondstadt Grilled Fish.”

“Yes,” you say, grinning proudly. “One of your favorites. You sent me the recipe last year, remember? Kept practicing it for this moment.”

But Kazuha’s heavy gaze is not on the food, but on you, an unreadable emotion clouding his eyes. The tension disappears when he smiles and takes a bite. You watch him enjoy his food in peace, belatedly deciding to do the same. You know you did good but Kazuha didn’t have to look like he’s in bliss, eyes closed and everything.

“Thank you,” he says. “You keep surprising me. This was meant to be a day for you.”

“You here with me is enough to make all my days,” you say, mouth full of fish grilled to perfection. Embarrassingly enough, there are crumbs that spew out. You take another big bite, crumbs of it sticking to the sides of your mouth.

You must look a little stupid, tucked in some corner of Liyue, standing next to Kazuha and eating grilled fish silently.

Your field of vision is abruptly engulfed by Kazuha's face. You have barely time to react, your body falling still as your attention is swallowed by the red of his eyes, which are focused on your mouth. You feel warmth press against the side of your mouth, your heart leaping to your throat at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he says, not looking at all sorry. “You had crumbs on your face.” Which does not explain why he has to kiss it off, but it was at this moment that you understand. Kazuha doesn’t lose balance and doesn’t do anything by mistake.

The dam crumbles.

The third happens when the night is creeping in on your first day, in some inn you didn’t bother looking at, too caught up in the way Kazuha is grinning at you in his own Kazuha-way: all soft and sweet.

“I can’t… believe—how long?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” he murmurs, closing the door behind you. “It wasn’t a grand revelation that happened one night. It just felt as if it was the only explanation.” His eyes flicker to you, keeping your faces close enough to where your noses are touching. He’s waiting for an answer.

“I had a crush on you the moment we met,” you confess, face hot. “And then it never went away, even when you had to leave. Distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.”

Kazuha’s smile tips on something a little more sly. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, then.”

Years and years of longing for Kazuha, rereading each and every one of his letters, and cherishing every second of when he comes to visit—all of it’s more than worth it if it led you here, in a secluded room, sharing hushed whispers with the boy you’ve wanted all your life.

“So… what are we—”

You’re rudely interrupted by Kazuha pecking your lips.

You frown. “Hey, wait, I’m—mmph—trying to—Kazuha!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he tugs you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs again, but he’s leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin as you shiver.

“It’s okay,” you whisper in the quiet of the night, in the steady silence occasionally broken by the beating of your hearts. “It was an accident.”

“Mm,” he hums, nodding. “An accident.”

You stare at each other for a pregnant pause.

“This one isn’t, though,” Kazuha says and dives in for a kiss that leaves you breathless, years and years of buried feelings pouring over.

this was supposed to be for kazuha’s bday but i couldn't finish it in time :(!!! belated happy birthday to the greenest flag ever <3

[starconstruction]

Lighthearted Bullies.

Bully Chaewon and Heejin x Male Reader (Smut)

Went on a big longer than intended to, another one of my famous wheel spins. 3rd Chaewon fic in a row luck be damned.

join us next time for our 3rd wheel spin, gowon and ??

smut tags: soft fdom, creampie, throatpie, face riding, virginity claiming.

Word Count 1834, not proof read

Being a loser had no benefits, you sat alone at lunch, group projects were solo affairs and everyone would give you strange looks. Not that you did much to get into this position, but sometimes somebody has to roll a bad dice roll.

Well there was two people who would pay you mind, two of the popular girls. Chaewon and Heejin, it wasn't a positive relationship of course. Each day came with triple the workload that every normal student has, head burrowed in the projects they asked you to do. They made it very clear you'd live to regret it if you didn't comply.

It was 3am, 7 red bulls sat on your defiled desk while you typed away on your keyboard. Drinking the 3rd red bull of the night, you were wearing pajamas with the full intent of sleeping much earlier ago. But their assignments were so big and you were only told about them three days before they were due.

The soft angelic hum of ARTMS played from your headphones, breaking up the crushing monotony with texting whoever would listen on discord. Heejin's assignment only had another 5 pages, if you are lucky you may get at least 45 minutes of sleep.

You didn't.

-

The slams of lockers felt louder, sharper. Lights were uncomfortably bright and blurry, tears painted the corners of your eyes as they struggled to remain open. The people in front of you moved out of your way with disgusted looks. God you feel like shit.

You sat uncomfortably in the blue plastic chair, fiddling with your hands as you tried to ignore the throbbing headache that pounded against your skull. You got here earlier than the rest, situated in the back of the room. It was going to be a long day.

The class was soon about to start, students funneled into the room which included your two bullies. You paid them little mind as they walked in, taking the two chairs surrounding you. Their strong perfume felt even more pungent, filling your nose with the cheap scent of lavender. "Wow, Y/N you look like shit dude." Heejin mocked, playfully tapping you on the back. Chaewon snickered as her hand rummaged in her handbag.

"Y-yeah, your assignments took me forever." Your voice was meek and quiet, they did not appreciate you raising your voice. The time you did was met with a swift shove into a locker, tooth still loose from the contact.

"Atleast you did it, thank you Y/N" Chaewon said. Thank you, she never said thank you. Your face warmed up turning a beet red, they almost certainly noticed it. All the tiredness hit you at once, a tsunami of exhaustion crushing you. Their faces appeared at the corners of your eyes, a face of pity or maybe they thought you were pathetic.

"We'll be nice this once, just sleep. We will give you the notes." Heejin commanded, you knew better than to take advantage of any kindness they offered. Head pressing against the table, it didn't take long for you to pass out.

-

A soft hand slapped you awake, Chaewon looked at you saying something incomprehensible. Her hand dragged you up and started pulling you somewhere, feet struggling to keep up with the short tempered woman. The wind hit you with a strong gust, waking you up slightly. "Get in." Chaewon said, throwing you into her dingy black 2007 Cadillac. The scent of cheap cherry as she got in the other side.

"where are we going chaewon?" You asked, voice thick with tiredness as her hand grabbed the wheel. "You are coming with me, Heejin is already there." She didn't elaborate, she drove quickly. Probably too quickly. Window open slightly while playing the radio way too loud, body bouncing as she sung whatever came on.

You two drove for awhile, Chaewon beamed as you laid against the seat. Her energy was contagious, slightly moving your body to the music as you two pulled into her driveway.

She loved to drag you around, pulling you into her house. The entrance screamed Chaewon, several pair of same size shoes laid on the ground. The walls a comforting white, but she had no interest in doing a house tour. Discarding her shoes as she dragged you into her bedroom.

The bedroom was even more her, filled with various strange items. Statues of various anime characters on shelves, posters of weeekly, linkin park and some random local bands you've only heard mentioned in passing. Her bed laid pushed up in the corner, midnight black sheets laid hastily thrown on with pillows scattered around. The main thing of note was Heejin, sat there in her ripped jeans and band shirt. "You brought him!" She yelled.

Chaewon wasn't apparently done man handling you, shoving you face first into Heejin. Her arms wrapped around you, suffocating the life essence as she squeezed. "Of course I did. He doesn't know why though." You were so confused, comfortably perched on Heejin's lap.

"Oh joy! May I have the honours?" Heejin said, Chaewon nodded as Heejin's hand turned your head to face her. "We just wanted to say thanks for your effort and we have just the thing for it." You didn't have time to respond, Heejin's lips pressed against yours, eyes widened in shock as you tried to kiss back. You've never done this before, struggling to guess the actions as your lips moved against hers. " Awe he's so responsive." Chaewon fawned.

Suddenly she was behind you, back pressing against you as her hand brushed against your cock, fingers making faint contact with the tip. You've never been so erect, evidently Heejin's strawberry flavored lip gloss had an effect on you. Heejin pulled away "Not a bad kisser for a virgin." She commented, Your head found the bed as she ended up by your crotch. "Not for much longer, you'll enjoy this."

You shuddered as her lips pressed against your clothed cock, her mouth smiling as a tongue trailed up the fabric. "So hard.." Heejin admired in awe, Chaewon refused to remain idle. Her weight shifting the bed as her body appeared near your head, "You wanna be good for me, for us. Right?" Your head nodded on its own accord, "Good boy." Heejin's hand found it's way to your zip, tugging it down. The fabric ripped off in one fell swoop, you felt so aroused. Heejin's hand found your cock as it wrapped around "Wow, I've barely touched you and your leaking." She said, stroking up and down as she started her hand job off dry.

"Spit on it for me Chae." Heejin requested, smiling as Chaewon's mouth contorted to produce warm saliva. It dripped from her mouth, landing on your needy cock. Heejin immediately got to work, lubricating you with her hand. "Throbbing already.. Don't blow your load too early." She demanded, growling as she took you in her mouth. You had nothing to compare with but she felt experienced, tongue trailing around your length.

Chaewon pulled down her shirt revealing her purple bra, nipples as hard as diamond while they poked out. "Be good for us, suck for me." You complied, mouth finding solace in Chaewon's massive breasts. Sucking the hardened flesh as Chaewon looked down at you.

Heejin sped up, testing your ability to restrain yourself as her mouth bobbed. She slurped on your cock making sinful sounds, Chaewon stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of tugging on your strands. "That's it, let the stress melt away.. You are safe here." She spoke softly, a contrast to the action happening against your crotch right now.

You were getting close, unable to speak as Chaewon's breasts silenced your words. Heejin realized, pressing her nose to your pubes as your hips thrusted inwards. Moaning against Chaewon's nipple as you came, shooting shot after shot into Heejin's throat which it gracefully accepted. She stayed there for a few long moments as you rode the high of your first orgasm not caused by you.

Your mouth was made empty as she pulled away, they swapped positions. Heejin now sat next to you, "Did I do well?" She asked, no way she was actually conscious about her throat game. Just wanting a ego stroke which you happily obligated, nodding.

Chaewon turned away, shimmying out of her jeans. Putting on the show of a lifetime as her meaty ass shed it's clothing, a thin red thong covered her holes as she faced you again. "Like what you see?" She teased as you tried to speak, only a small whine coming out. "Look at you, drooling. You are such a mess for us." she continued.

Chaewon pulled the soiled fabric down her endlessly long legs, throwing it at your face as you pressed her panties into your nose, breathing in her scent as she straddled you. "W-wait!" You called out, "Shouldn't we use a condom?"

She laughed, "No." Her body sunk down on you, wrapping around every inch it consumed. Squeezing the life out of you as your shaft throbbed in her warmth, you were embarrassed at how close you were already. You were so distracted by Chaewon you didn't realize Heejin had stripped, "Be a good boy and let me ride that pretty face." You nodded, tongue sticking out as Heejin found her seat on her throne.

The dual riding was one hell of a first time, overwhelmed by the sensation of the two bullies. Chaewon worked her magic on your dick, taking you beyond heaven as she bounced up and down. Heejin leaked arousal all over your tongue while you struggled to keep up, your muscle licked her soft slit indiscriminately.

"You are being such a good boy for us!" Chaewon barked, holding onto your chest as she slammed against your crotch. You were surprised by how long you lasted, but it wasn't possible to go any longer. You wouldn't call them moans, but some form of sound left your mouth into Heejin's pussy, shooting cum into Chaewon's awaiting body. Filling her with your cream, she kept going for a second. But she had plans.

Chaewon got off your spent shaft, sitting on your chest as she leaked your load back onto you. Her tongue helped you with Heejin's neediness, everytime she came backwards Chaewon would lick her cunt. The dual tonguing made her moan even louder, Heejin's legs fully tightened around your skull as she rained down her squirt into your mouth.

Heejin fell back into Chaewon's arms, your mouth still inches from her lips as you three caught your breath. Basking in the pleasure that took place, the only sound that could be heard was the shared panting of pleasure.

Chaewon broke the suspenseful silence, "Congrats on losing your virginity loser! Two women at the same time aswell." Heejin carried on, like this was a planned bit. "You are ours now, not that you have anyone else. We are doing this more often."

Maybe there was one perk to being a loser.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER ONE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff | lmk if you want to be added! wc: 7.1k notes: see masterlist for content warnings. buckle up, here we go 🙂‍↕️

'South Carolina Basketball Star Tess Kennedy Hits Rock Bottom'

On March 31, the South Carolina Gamecocks went head to head with the Iowa Hawkeyes in the heavily anticipated Final Four match-up. For South Carolina, this was their two-peat season, coming off of an electric championship win back in April 2022 against the formidable Connecticut Huskies. For Iowa, this was their underdog season. Their last Final Four appearance was back in 1993. With powerhouses such as Kamilla Cardoso, Aliyah Boston, and Tess Kennedy, South Carolina was a fan favorite to win, but Caitlin Clark and the Hawkeyes would prove to be a wrench in the plans.

Late in the third quarter, Tess Kennedy fell to the ground clutching her knee as Clark drove past her. To those on court, the injury was obvious. She was carried off in a stretcher. We would later receive the news that Kennedy had officially tore the anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) in her left knee and would undergo surgery within the week. Kennedy would have the entire offseason and most of the regular season to rehab and hopefully return for the 2023-2024 season, but onlookers quickly found that would not be the case.

April 9 marked the beginning of what was taunted as the "Tess Kennedy Destruction Tour." It had simple beginnings - a Twitter reply here, a heated Instagram argument there.

[IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION: USER GAMECOCKS4LIFE33: "TESS KENNEDY YOU SUCK, THANKS FOR THROWING OUR BACK TO BACK SEASON, I HOPE YOUR ACL NEVER HEALS!!!" | USER TESSKENNEDY25: "I'M PRAYING THAT YOUR WIFE HAS AN ABORTION. I'D STRANGLE MYSELF WITH MY OWN UMBILICAL CORD IF I CAME OUT OF THE WOMB AND YOUR FACE WAS THE FIRST THING I SAW." END TRANSCRIPTION.]

As recovery progressed, Kennedy soon frequented a local bar nearby the University of South Carolina campus. Kennedy would spend nights there, often inebriated and starting arguments outside. Her nights out would only end when other members of the South Carolina women's basketball team came to rescue her. They have all declined to comment at this time.

Kennedy's supporters have gone online with desperate cries for anyone at all to get Tess Kennedy the help and recovery she needs. South Carolina has been unnaturally quiet regarding their star player's self-destruction. Kennedy has expressed that she wishes to enter the WNBA draft after her senior year, and considering that an ACL tear often makes or breaks an athlete's career, it does not surprise us in the least that Kennedy is having a difficult time with her injury. The only question remaining is if someone will pick her up, or if Tess Kennedy will be left to her own devices and continue to sink.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 3, 2023

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

The silence in the conference room is palpable. Tess is currently battling a migraine, though she’s not sure if it’s from her hangover or the absolute bullshit her manager just subjected her ears to. She’s surrounded by Amaya, the aforementioned manager, Diana, her publicist, Coach Staley, a counselor from the university’s counseling and wellness center (though she’s already forgotten her name), Paige Bueckers, for whatever fucking reason, and two other unfamiliar people.

When Amaya called her to schedule a meeting, Tess didn’t know what it was for. Amaya didn’t say and Tess was too shitfaced to argue, especially when Amaya was yelling at her bright and early at 7 am. The regret pools low in her belly and she tells herself for the millionth time that she should have skipped this meeting.

“Tess, we’ve brought you in today because everyone is worried for you,” Amaya states. “Frankly, we should have done it earlier. That has been a critical error on our end. Your teammates have told us that you either lock yourself in your room for hours on end or go out and get plastered. I’m sure you’re familiar with what the media is calling the ‘Tess Kennedy Destruction Tour?’”

Paige, quiet from the other end of the table, raises a brow while Tess scoffs. “I feel like that’s a little excessive,” Tess says.

Diana frowns. “Since your ACL injury, you’ve been in several arguments online. You frequent bars and are at risk of a severe alcohol addiction. We know you’re not rehabbing nor are you taking your medication.”

And, at the heart of it, Amaya and Diana aren’t wrong. Maybe when Tess is a few drinks in and she opens Twitter and sees what all the trolls are saying, constant repeats and barrages of Tess Kennedy sold South Carolina’s game – she deserves so much worse than an ACL tear and South Carolina made a mistake in recruiting her, maybe she responds to them, because why wouldn’t she? She’s a college athlete, she understands trash talk and competitiveness, but everything that is said about her is downright cruel. She loses all of her inhibitions when the tequila flows through her veins – making the trolls feel just as bad as she does is one of the simplest remedies she could offer. The alcohol makes her forget about her injury, about the guilt of costing her team the game and the championship. It’s simple. So what if she drinks a little more lately? She’s not addicted. She’s just trying to forget.

Her avoiding rehab and her medication were just unfortunate casualties of war. Her injury was too fresh on her mind for her to fully commit to attending, even though Kamilla tried her best to get her to the physio’s office. Her medication was a different story – she had to be weaned off of her lexapro for a couple days before her surgery so she could safely be anesthetized for it. Then she wasn’t allowed to take her medication for a few days post-surgery given the nature of her painkillers. It all spiraled from there. She was off of her rhythm in multiple ways, and the last thing on her mind was her anxiety medication.

“We know you won’t listen, so we are not giving you options,” Amaya says firmly, forcing Tess back into the moment. She resists an eyeroll. “You’re at risk of killing yourself, Tess. You’re at risk of losing your basketball scholarship because your grades have slipped after finals – you’re lucky enough that your GPA was high enough from the past two years to cushion straight C’s this semester. Your brand deals are inches away from dropping you entirely. So, we are going to fix that. Three times weekly, you will meet with a trainer for mandatory physical therapy. Once a week, you will meet with a psychologist for your mental health and alcohol dependence. And during this off-season, we’ve made the decision that you and Paige Bueckers will be in a fake relationship so you can repair your images.”

Which brings us to where we are now.

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

Tess’s eyes nearly fall out of her head. Paige seems equally as shocked from across the table, jaw slack, though her expression hardens with indignance as Tess demands, “Why her? What is fake dating going to do about any of this?”

“Your brand deals are at risk of pulling away from you because you are destroying your image,” Amaya says again. “You’re too volatile. Paige’s brand deals are at risk of pulling away from her because…” Amaya struggles to find the words.

“I’m not ‘family friendly’ enough,” Paige supplies, fingers raised in air quotes.

At that, Tess snickers. “And by that, she means she sleeps around too much, people are noticing, and her conquests are bitter.”

“Why the attitude? Jealous I ain’t sleepin’ with you?”

“Oh, sure, because I’ve always wanted an STD.”

“At the rate you’re destroying yourself, you might be closer than you think.”

“Enough,” Amaya snaps. Tess and Paige close their mouths. Paige at least has the decency to look a little ashamed while Tess glares. “But yes. Paige’s brand deals feel as though she’s too… all over the place. Having a fake girlfriend will placate her brands and consumers who are upset with them for not taking action. The two of you together will show that Paige is not a womanizer and that Tess is not a flight risk.”

“I don’t agree with this,” Tess states.

Amaya hums. “I’ll take your grievances into consideration.” She pauses for a moment, tapping her chin dramatically as if thinking hard, before smiling. “Okay, I’ve considered. You and Paige will fake date. You’re going to go to all of your appointments and you are going to try to get better. Your doctors said you would be able to play again depending on your recovery. Why are you trying to destroy yourself? Why are you making this harder on yourself than it needs to be?”

Tess doesn’t have an answer for that. At least, not one she’s going to admit in front of her Coach or Paige Bueckers. Paige got lucky – she tore her ACL and she’s almost fully healed now. The chance that Tess might not be able to, no matter how slim, fills her with indescribable envy. Taking her destruction into her own hands gives her some semblance of control that she otherwise doesn’t have. She wasn’t in control when her ligament tore. She wasn’t in control when she was in surgery for hours and the doctors were meticulously replacing it.

When she doesn’t respond, Amaya sighs. “Paige flies back to Connecticut on Saturday. I want you two to take this week to get to know each other and soft launch – how you do that, I don’t care. We just want the public to know you’re seeing each other currently.”

After some more fine-tuning between Amaya, Diana, and Paige’s manager and publicist, the meeting concludes. Tess doesn’t waste any time before she’s hauling herself to her feet. She grunts as the pain shoots through her leg, gripping the table to stabilize herself. “Tess, hold on,” Coach Staley calls. “I need a word with you.”

Tess resists a sigh. No matter how fucked up she might be, she’s not going to be the one to test Coach Staley. The conference room filters out, though Tess doesn’t notice Paige’s lingering gaze as she leaves. “I know you probably feel a little trapped right now,” Coach says. “That we’re forcing you into this. Which we are – I mean, I won’t sugarcoat it. I know basketball is your dream and you feel like it’s all slipping away because of your injury. Let me be the first to say that the Tess Kennedy I know wouldn’t let this stop her. I don’t know what’s going on with you. I don’t know why you’re spiraling, but I do know that our team is a family and we are always here to support you if you’d just let us in. You are an amazing player, an asset on and off the court. Please give this your all, if not for me, if not for your teammates, but for yourself.”

Tess can feel the tightness in her throat and the slight sting in her eyes. Part of her knows that Coach is right – she always is. The other part of her is so overwhelmed by her grief that it’s hard to fully absorb it. “I’ll try, Coach,” she says softly, feeling more sober than she has in weeks. Coach Staley squeezes her shoulder, walking out of the room. After wiping the tears pooling in her eyes and taking deep breaths, she walks out, too.

“Hey –”

Tess nearly jumps out of her skin, a hand over her chest. “Jesus fucking Christ, Paige.” The blonde guard can’t help but snicker, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not funny, dude. You’re an asshole. I can’t believe people line up to sleep with you.”

“They do that?” she asks, smiling smugly. “Didn’t know.”

Tess rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Do you have a reason to be talking to me or are you just trying to make me start drinking at 9 am?”

Paige shoves her hands in her pockets. “Amaya told me your first PT appointment is in an hour. She wants me to go with you, help you out and shit.” Paige must recognize the look on Tess’s face because she huffs. “Look, I wanna be doing this as much as you do. But work with me a little. I wasn’t this insufferable when I tore my ACL.”

At that, Tess’s gaze turns into a hard glare. “Fuck off. You don’t know shit about my injury.”

She scoffs. “I know more than you think I do, and I think that’s why you’re all pissed,” she says, voice low. “Yeah, you’re in pain 24/7, but it’s the mentality that fucks you up. You’re scared you’re never going to play ball again and you’re taking it out on other people. You’re taking it out on yourself, Tess; you’re literally killing yourself over an injury you can bounce back from. It’s hard and it’s scary and it’s fucked up. And as shitty as it sounds, tearing your ACL is something that only happens to other people, right? It wasn’t supposed to happen to you.” Tess’s mouth morphs into a guilty frown, watching as Paige shifts her weight to her healthy leg unconsciously. “So, face it. You tore your ACL. You trashed your reputation to cope with it and now we gotta dig each other out of the mud. But your recovery is up to you. Commit to it, follow the PT, do what you gotta do – or you’re never playing on that court again.”

Despite her harsh words, Paige’s eyes are soft with understanding, not pity. Tess was used to seeing the commiseration on her teammates' faces. They didn’t understand; understanding an ACL tear came with the fact of having one, and as mad as she was at the world right now, Tess would never wish something like that upon her teammates. Do what you gotta do – or you’re never playing on that court again. Paige’s words run around her head on repeat. Tess isn’t surprised that it makes her angry. She is surprised to find that the anger isn’t directed at the blonde herself, who she’s about to be stuck with for months on end. Tess is pissed at herself. Her actions may have just cost her weeks, if not months of extra recovery time. She was so lost in what-ifs that she didn’t focus on the things that were actually around her.

Tess would work on it. That is as much as she could promise herself.

Unable to fully process the genuine culture shock of Paige’s rant, Tess swallows thickly and looks anywhere but the blonde’s blue eyes. “Do you, um, wanna grab coffee before PT?” she asks forlornly.

Paige’s jaw ticks, but she seems to recognize the invitation for what it is – an olive branch. “Yeah. Sure. You should swing by your apartment and grab your crutches, though.”

Tess almost rolls her eyes at the mother-hen tone of Paige’s voice. “I don’t need them anymore,” she retorts. “Doctor said 2 to 3 weeks post-surgery. I’m very much 2 to 3 weeks post-surgery.”

“Pretty sure 2 to 3 weeks depended on good behavior,” Paige states. “You did literally the opposite of that. Plus, I saw you wince when you stood up. Go get your crutches, Tessa.”

“Okay, first of all, Tess isn’t a nickname,” she gripes, but she leads Paige towards the athlete apartments. “Tessa is not on my birth certificate. Second of all, don’t boss me around.”

Paige hums. “Okay,” she concedes, which shocks Tess enough that she turns around. Paige has a solemn look on her face, but the look in her eye tells Tess all she needs to know. “According to Amaya, we’re girlfriends now. That means I gotta look out for you. So lighten up, ma. Get your crutches and let me buy you a coffee so you don’t get cranky in PT.”

Tess wrinkles her nose. “Do not call me that either.”

“Okay, Tessa.”

“You’re actually so fucking annoying, it’s unreal.” Tess turns around again, leaning on her right foot to take the pressure off her left knee. She clasps her hands together, trying to distract herself from the way Paige smiles smugly at her, eyes bright. Tess suddenly feels stupid for not realizing any sooner that Paige was just fucking with her. The worst part about this whole situation was how Paige’s banter did manage to chip away some of the guilt and anguish that slowly frosted over her heart. She’d never admit that much to the blonde, though – her ego is already the size of Jupiter. “Don’t call me ma. Don’t call me Tessa.”

“So what’s actually on your birth certificate?” Paige asks when Tess starts walking again.

“Tess Kennedy.”

“Middle name?”

“Why do you care?”

Paige scrunches up her face. “We’re girlfriends –”

“We are not girlfriends,” Tess interrupts.

“Okay, what the fuck ever,” Paige gripes. “Middle name. We need to know stuff about each other. Mine’s Madison. You might as well just tell me anyways ‘cause I’m pretty sure it’s on your Wikipedia.”

Tess heaves a sigh. Paige has to get off on being an annoying fuck – there’s no other reason why she’d be harassing her right now. “It’s Alessandra. Tess Alessandra Kennedy. I was named after my mom.”

“Tess Alessandra,” Paige repeats. Her name sounds far too good rolling off her tongue and Tess gets mad all over again. Paige is a woman of many talents it seems, although it’s unfortunate that shutting up is not one of them. “Cute. Is that Italian?”

Tess softens at the genuine interest in her tone, realizing she's being an asshole. “Yeah. We moved here from Italy when I was seven. I grew up in New York, came down here for ball…the rest is history, I guess.”

“Can you say the thing?” Paige asks with too much glee.

Tess glances at her warily. “What thing?”

“You know, the ‘Ay, I’m walkin’ here!’”

“Jesus Christ,” Tess mutters. She and Paige exit the athletic facility, and the South Carolinian guard leads her on the short path back to the athlete apartments. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met. It’s impressive.” 

“I like setting the standard.” Tess glances at her. Paige looks comfortable – too comfortable – sporting an easy-going smile, as if being perpetually on Tess’s nerves is enjoyable for her. Tess isn’t sure what to make of her. “So, what was coming to the States like?”

The shorter of the two shrugs. “It was an adjustment. My English was decent, but I struggled to make friends. Basketball made me feel like I belonged here, although it reminded me of home, too.”

“You still consider Italy home?” Paige asks softly.

Tess mulls it over, humming. “Home is a feeling,” she states. “I never had to second guess myself in Italy – whether or not I was using the right words or doing things the ‘American way.’ I feel at home when I play ball. I never doubted myself there, either; it’s what my brain is wired for.”

“And now that you can’t play, it feels like leaving everything you’ve ever known?”

Tess’s lips curl into a half-smile. “Something like that.”

Paige makes a noise in the back of her throat that sounds vaguely like understanding. “No wonder you went on a destruction tour.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “And the moment’s over.”

“Nah, I was being for real!” Paige defends. “I’m just sayin’ – I get it. Basketball means something different to everyone, right?”

Tess softens. “Yeah. Guess so.” She opens the door to the athlete apartments, leading Paige to the elevators. She pushes the number three and the elevator closes. She sighs, leaning against the wall, and lifting her leg slightly. “So what about you?”

Paige glances at her. “What about me?”

“Your ACL. What was different for you?”

Paige wiggles her leg. “Well, I’m still recovering. Want to be 110% before I’m on the court again.” She stares at her reflection in the elevator mirror before her eyes look anywhere else. “It was tough. It is tough. I felt useless for a long time but my teammates and family pulled me out of my slump before I let myself sink. It just took me a while to let them in.” At that, Tess feels hot all over, looking down at her feet and not at the blonde next to her. “I just wanna play,” Paige admits. “But it just feels like every time I get into a groove, there’s something that benches me. I don’t like letting my teammates down.”

“You’re not,” Tess states, surprising herself.

Paige looks up, meeting Tess’s eyes, lips curling into a solemn smile. “Aren’t I?”

The ding of the elevator saves Tess from having to answer. She frowns, but heads in the direction of her apartment. She hopes that Kamilla and Bree are out. Walking in with Paige Bueckers attached to her hip would be an uncomfortable conversation. Tess sticks her key in the door, opens it, and nearly drops her lanyard in surprise at the sight in front of her.

“Tess, what the fuck? I woke up this morning and you weren’t here. I thought –” Kamilla’s rant slows to a stop as Tess walks in, Paige in tow, who suddenly looks like she wants to be anywhere but Tess’s apartment.

“Good morning, Kamilla,” Tess says guiltily. “Say hi, Paige.”

The blonde waves. “What’s up, Kamilla?” Kamilla blinks at the two of them. “Uh, I can just wait outside.”

“Stay,” Tess says, her words coming out like a demand. Paige nods, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Um, I had a meeting with Amaya. I’ll tell you about it later, Kam, I promise, but I have PT in like, 45 minutes, so I really need to go.”

Kamilla doesn’t say anything as Tess hobbles to her room and exits with her crutches in tow. The two roommates stare at each other for a beat before Tess inches forward and wraps her arms around Kamilla, who freezes in shock before returning the hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk,” she whispers. “I’ve been an asshole to you and Bree. You guys didn’t deserve that. Thank you for trying to take care of me when I didn’t want to take care of myself.”

“Hey, we’ll talk later,” Kamilla says softly. “We love you, okay?”

Tess’s eyes burn with unshed tears. “I love you, too.”

Kamilla releases her with one last lingering look, smiling softly before glancing at Paige. “Best behavior, Bueckers,” she says coyly, much to Paige’s amusement, who raises her hands in mock surrender. “See y’all later.”

Paige, as if sensing Tess’s inner turmoil, allows her to lead them to the on-campus Starbucks in silence. It’s not too far away from the athlete dorms. Tess and many of her teammates would frequent it over the years, seeking caffeine for study sessions, though she’s aware of how different the situation is now. When they walk in, Tess is thankful to find it relatively empty. The two baristas on duty hardly offer them a second glance. Paige settles a tentative hand over the small of her back. “What d’you want, ma? You can sit and I’ll get your coffee.”

Tess is less bothered by the nickname the second time around. “Vanilla sweet cream cold brew. Please?”

Paige nods. “Got you.” She walks up to the counter while Tess grabs a spot at a booth out of sight. Tess pulls out her phone as she waits, having it on Do Not Disturb for the better part of the morning. She feels guilt all over as her notifications are full of missed calls from Kamilla and Bree and countless text messages. She clears them out and sends another “i’m sorry” to their group chat, to which both Kamilla and Bree quickly respond with heart emojis. Tess texts her parents back, who’d been blowing her up with reasonable concern after her media escapades. She tells them she’s doing better but doesn’t wait around to see their response. Tess has countless other messages she needs to get around to, but settles for silencing her phone again, promising to get back to them later.

Paige returns to their booth with their coffees in hand. The blonde passes her a straw and Tess quietly thanks her. “How much was it? Let me pay you back.”

Paige scoffs. “Bro, get outta here with that. I told you I was buyin’ so you don’t get cranky.”

“I’m already cranky, Paige–”

“That’s just your personality.”

Tess cracks a smile, the first genuine one all morning. “I’m serious. Let me pay you back.”

“You can pay me back by workin’ with me on this,” Paige says. She takes a long sip from her coffee, humming at the flavor.

“I’m good now,” Tess grumbles. “Trust.”

Paige snorts. “Trust?”

Tess nods solemnly. “I was kind of a jerk earlier. I’m sorry for calling you a whore.”

Paige blinks. “We don’t gotta talk about that, Tess, really –”

“No, just hear me out, okay?” Tess says. “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. Your business is your business. I shouldn’t have used that against you.”

“I shouldn’t have used your ACL against you, either,” Paige concedes, “when I said I wasn’t insufferable when I tore mine.”

Tess smiles weakly at her. “I kinda deserved that one, to be honest.”

“Well…” Paige trails off, grinning menacingly, and Tess rolls her eyes. “Hey, we’re cool now. We’d be even more cool if you’d answer my DM, but it’s whatever.”

“I ghosted a lot of people, you’re not special,” Tess gripes.

“I am,” Paige insists. “We’re ACL buddies now. ACL girlfriends if you wanna be real. Two knees, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona–”

Tess buries her head in her hands, unwilling to let Paige see the smile on her face. “We are not girlfriends. And what was that? Did you just compare our knees to Romeo and Juliet?”

“We’re star-crossed lovers, ma; you more than me since Caitlin crossed you up and snatched your ankles,” Paige jabs. At that, Tess can’t help the laugh that rips from her mouth.

“I actually hate you,” she says, but the words lack bite. She takes a sip from her coffee, too. “Okay. How do we want to do this?”

“Amaya wants it, like, obvious that it’s us, right?” Paige says. “You could post a picture of our coffees on your story. Don’t gotta show my face but you could keep my chain in the photo.”

Tess glances at Paige’s collarbones, where her necklaces rest delicately. There’s a chain with a silver cross on it and her signature #5 chain right next to it, albeit it’s a smaller, less loud version of the one she wears for hype videos. Tess knows the online fans are freaks with how they notice things – they’d instantly clock it. “You could post me at PT,” Tess offers. “Like holding my crutches or something.”

“Or something,” Paige agrees, eyes lighting up with mischief. “You trust me?”

Tess eyes her warily. “Not particularly, no,” she admits. “But it’s your story and your soft launch. It’s your call.”

“Bro,” Paige sighs. “We’ll work on it.” She adjusts their coffees then fiddles with the chains around her neck. “Look good?”

Tess tries not to focus too much on the way Paige’s collarbones protrude slightly, the fairness of her skin. “Mhm,” she says noncommittally, readying her phone. Paige reaches for her own phone, angling it just slightly so the edge of her purple case is in view. Satisfied, she takes the photo, flipping the screen to show Paige, who nods. She sits for a moment, pondering the caption, before typing out, ‘and a new day will bring about the dawn.’ She shows Paige again. “You like?”

“Frank?” she asks, smiling when Tess nods in confirmation. “It’s a little cheesy maybe. But it shows, like, you’re optimistic and shit. That you’re getting better.” Tess makes a noise of agreement, centering the text to her liking. Paige lays a hand on her wrist before she has the chance to post. “We should set some rules before we do this.”

Tess sighs. “Really, Paige?”

“Yes, really,” Paige retorts. “We’re lying to millions of people right now. Gotta make sure we got our shit straight or we’re fucked. When did we start talking?”

“You DMed me after my injury,” Tess offers hesitantly. “Offered support.”

“Lotta help I was with you spiraling for a month straight,” Paige grumbles.

Tess smirks wryly. “A little bit of truth in the lie goes a long way, right? You messaged me, I didn’t want to accept help, but you still tried – maybe you flew out to surprise me? You’re here now.”

Paige pauses, swirling the straw in her drink. “That works. We bonded over our ACLs, realized we had other shit in common. I pulled you out of the deep end–”

“And I got you to settle down.”

Paige raises a brow. “Oh, so that’s where we are now? You won’t even friendzone me but I’m settling?”

Tess rolls her eyes. “You’re literally on my last nerve.”

The blonde smiles smugly. “Alright. How open are we being with the media?”

Tess shrugs, chewing on her straw. “Maybe just be all coy and shit? We’re in different states so our options are limited. Repost couple-y stuff on TikTok, get active in each other’s comments, that kind of stuff. Maybe in month or so I can fly up to see you and we can hard-launch?”

Paige nods. “Works for me. Let me know when you’re thinking and I can pick you up from the airport or something.” They fall silent for a moment. “I feel like we’re media-trained enough that we don't need to overthink it. Just don’t invent an anniversary.”

“Agreed.” Tess stretches out her leg, rubbing her knee with a sigh. “You wanted rules?”

“Mhm,” Paige hums as she opens the notes app on her phone. At #1, she writes COMMUNICATE in uppercase, bold letters. Tess can’t disagree. “We have to make sure we do this right. If either of us gets uncomfortable, we need to talk about it and fix it or end it. I’m sure there’s community service or some shit to show we’re redeemed people. For public appearances, we gotta, you know…kiss and stuff to sell it.” Paige’s cheeks flush red as she says this. “Uh, we can talk about it later. If you want.”

“Yeah,” Tess agrees awkwardly. The thought of having to kiss Paige leaves a stirring feeling in her chest that she can’t quite place. At #2, Paige writes No seeing other people on the DL. “That’s pretty self-explanatory. You sure you can handle it?” she teases.

Paige rolls her eyes but she has the decency to look guilty. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not a womanizer, Tess Alessandra,” she sasses.

“I believe you, Paige Madison,” Tess retorts.

At #3, Paige writes Nobody can know. “My teammates have big mouths,” Paige states. “But also I feel like it adds to the story.”

Tess frowns. “Well, I kind of already promised to tell Kam and Bree. I owe it to them after being a shitty person for a month straight.” Paige stares at her for a beat before adding, Nobody can know, except Kamilla and Bree. Tess nods, satisfied. At #4, she writes, NO CATCHING FEELINGS. She blushes as she writes it and Tess raises a brow. “Is that a concern of yours?”

“No!” Paige says a little too quickly for Tess’s liking. “I can do casual,” she adds, voice lower. “Ion know about you. But you can’t fall in love with me. That would ruin all of this. We can’t let this get out of hand, you know?”

“Sure,” Tess agrees. “But you can’t fall in love with me, either.”

Paige’s jaw ticks. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Good.”

They fall into a brief silence. “You wanna add anything else?” Paige asks.

Tess shakes her head. “Shake on it?” Their hands meet in a crisp dap and Tess finally hits post on her story. She closes the app immediately, knowing that her notifications will explode. Paige finishes off the rest of her coffee, eyeing Tess curiously. The blonde has an unreadable look on her face – Tess isn’t quite sure what she’s thinking, and it rattles her. She glances at her phone, noting the time. “You ready?”

Paige nods, collecting their empty cups and tossing them in the trash. “Lead the way, ma.”

Tess settles into her crutches, feeling uncomfortable as they dig into her arms, but relieved as they take the pressure off her knee. Tess leads Paige back to the athletic facility, listening to the blonde’s rant about something Azzi said to her. She wonders how much of Paige’s brain is basketball stuff and how much is the random shit that apparently floats through there. Tess has only spent maybe an hour and a half one-on-one with Paige Bueckers, but she’s convinced the inside of her brain is a Where’s Waldo picture. Sure, they’ve chatted after games – okay, it’s probably more accurate to say they trash-talked after games, especially after South Carolina kicked their ass in the championship last year, though it was all in good fun – but getting to know her on a personal, less basketball-focused level is different.

They reach the physio’s office just in time for the start of Tess’s PT session. Craig, the trainer, greets her warmly, saying, “I’m glad to see your days of skipping PT are over, Tess.”

The South Carolinian guard rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I have an enforcer now.”

“Present!” Paige chirps.

Craig begins with a preliminary check-up, asking a few questions that Tess is tempted to sugarcoat if not for Paige’s convincing glare. Admitting that she hasn’t done much outside of skipping her PT to Craig’s face makes her feel embarrassed all over. The overall lack of proper rest and elevation coupled with overuse is expected to tack on another two months at most to her recovery, Craig estimates, but the idea that she still has a chance does enough to quell some of her worries.

With the questioning out of the way, Craig leads her through a couple of stretches and exercises. Paige joins in, working on her knee, and it makes Tess feel less silly about herself. It’s a strange thing to say. People always advise you to do it scared when you’re worried about trying new things, but Tess has come to find that the issue isn’t being scared – it’s doing it alone that makes it so difficult. She’s slightly ashamed to admit how much easier this whole process has become with Paige sitting next to her, extending her knee and breathing through the pain.

When Craig steps out to grab something from the storage area, there’s sweat beading at Tess’s hairline from the exertion of working her knee productively. She lays an ice pack over it, breathing through the slight pain and regretting everything that’s led her to this moment right now. “I’m never guarding Caitlin Clark again,” she mutters, half-serious.

Paige breaks out into infectious laughter. Tess has to fight back a smile at the sound. “You gotta get your lick back,” she says. 

“Trust, I’m working on it,” Tess says. “I’m gonna get better out of spite and break her ankles next season. Though she’ll probably drop a three on my head right after. That’s ball, baby.”

Paige reaches out, dapping her up and agreeing, “That’s ball.” Then, she pulls out her phone. “Soft launch time?”

Tess groans. “I know I said it was your call but please don’t do anything weird. I can’t handle it after this PT session.”

Paige rolls her eyes. “You gotta trust me, ma,” she chides. She readies the camera and reaches out for the ice pack, swatting away Tess’s hand. Her right knee bumps into Tess’s left thigh as she scoots ever so slightly closer, pressing the ice pack onto her knee. “Get your bracelet in there.” Tess does as Paige instructs, inching her hand closer in frame. Her bracelet is silver with a few notable charms, though the one that stands out the most is her jersey number, 25. “This okay?”

They look like a couple, Tess has to admit. Their proximity is one thing – you could say that’s just being friendly, but the fact that Paige is icing her knee feels weirdly intimate. “Yup,” she manages to get out. “All good.”

Paige takes the photo wordlessly, handing the ice pack over to Tess once she’s 100% satisfied with the way the photo has come out. She ponders the caption for a moment until she settles on the female doctor emoji and an ice cube. Tess snorts as she hits post and immediately silences her notifications. “You’re so creative.”

Paige rolls her eyes, but a smirk tugs at her lips regardless. “My bad. Next time I’ll use a cheesy ass Frank lyric.”

“You said it worked!” Tess exclaims, much to Paige’s amusement. She doesn’t get the chance to say more as Craig walks back in with the supplies he’d gone out to find. He wraps Tess’s knee and secures a huge ass brace around it. Given that she fucked up so much of her early recovery, he advises her to wrap her knee every morning and ice her knee on and off each day for about a week. Craig tells her to keep strenuous movement to a minimum and to use her crutches at all times – basically, everything her doctor told her to do in the first place. She nods along, promising to follow Craig’s instructions, but after a long day of PT and general emotional realizations, all she can think about is getting back to her room and taking a long nap.

Craig finally releases her from her session, reminding her to show up at the same time on Friday. Tess doesn’t fight him on it. He gives her one last gentle smile before she and Paige take their leave, walking back to Tess’s apartment in a comfortable silence. Paige scrolls on her phone before chuckling at something, nudging Tess, and showing her the screen. Her messages are full of questions from her teammates, with Nika Mühl’s sticking out like a sore thumb, reading, ‘I KNOW you didn’t seriously cancel on me and Lili this week to play doctor in SC!!!’ Tess can’t help but laugh out loud at that one. “The articles are crazy, bro, look,” Paige says, closing out of her iMessage and opening Instagram, where Overtime has shared pictures of both of their stories with the wide-eyed emoji. “‘Fans are speculating that Paige Bueckers flew out to meet up with South Carolinian shooting guard Tess Kennedy amidst controversy and Kennedy’s recent ACL injury,’” Paige reads.

“‘Amidst controversy’ is crazy work,” Tess huffs. “It wasn’t even that bad.”

Paige snorts, scrolling down. “We got detectives and shit,” she comments, showing Tess her screen. An Instagram account called ‘wcbbupdates’ has shared both of their stories again, having marked Paige’s chains and phone case and Tess’s bracelet in bright red circles. Paige narrows her eyes at a comment as she reads it aloud to Tess. “‘They are not slick, this is the hardest soft launch I’ve ever seen. I always knew Paige and Tess had sexual tension. Do you guys remember the regular season game in Paige’s freshman year where she was all up on Tess?’ Bro, what the fuck?”

Tess glances at Paige knowingly. “Something you want to share with the class?”

Paige scoffs. “I was not all over you,” she says. “We call that playing good D around here.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “You’re such a fucking liar,” she grumbles. “Just wait until I’m healthy again. I’m gonna cross you up so bad you have to retire from college ball or you have to take a super senior season just to fix your busted stats.”

The blonde smirks at her. “Oh, yeah?”

Tess doesn’t like the goading in her tone, nor the insinuation in her response. “You’re so –”

“Annoying?”

“So fucking annoying,” Tess confirms, much to Paige’s delight. 

“I love when you say nice things to me,” Paige croons.

Tess rolls her eyes, not responding, which draws a quiet laugh from Paige as they continue walking. Once they make it back up to Tess’s apartment, Paige lingers behind Tess, as if she’s unsure what to say for once in her life. The South Carolinian guard turns on her heel, leaning against her crutches and watching Paige carefully. 

“You’re here until Saturday?” Tess asks noncommittally, although she knows the answer. Paige nods. “You, uh, wanna come to PT on Friday, too?”

Paige shoves her hands in her pockets, giving Tess some sort of half smile. “Yeah. I can do that. Could get coffee or something.”

Tess studies her, lips quirking, but not giving anything away. “Or something,” she agrees. “Just text me. We can figure it out later.”

The blonde unlocks her phone and hands it over to Tess. She punches her number in and saves her contact. “Don’t ghost me this time?” Paige asks coyly, taking her phone back.

Tess snorts. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says gently. “See you later, Paige.”

Paige gives her one last fleeting smile. “Later, Tess. Be good for Kamilla.”

At that, Tess rolls her eyes, waving goodbye to Paige and finally inching inside her apartment. The door shuts with a click behind her. Tess sighs, leaning her head back against the wall, feeling the pressure of a migraine building behind her eyes. She doesn’t think Amaya is fully aware of what she’s asked both of them to do. Tess is struck with the realization that she’s in way over her head with Paige, with their silly little fake relationship, with her busted knee, and all of the mending she has to do over the next few weeks.

Tess takes a seat on the couch, propping her leg up on the coffee table in front of her. She turns the TV on and flips through various shows until she settles on her weekly rewatch of 2 Broke Girls. She makes it through the first episode before a knock at her apartment door forces her to get up. There’s nobody on the other side, but when she looks down, there’s a Chipotle bag and a drink on the ground. Confused, she picks it up. Her name is on it, but the cherry on top is the note attached to the receipt. 

Realized I took you to PT on an empty stomach. Hopefully I got your order right. You seem like a chicken and veg kinda girl. Sour cream and guac’s on the side. Lemme know if you don’t like any of this and I’ll order something else so you don’t bite Kamilla’s head off. See you Friday!

Tess barely registers half of the note. All she knows is that she’s well and truly fucked.

[steddieas-shegoes]

come together

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'together'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated e | 784 words | cw: elizabeth is back for a minute | tags: established relationship, blowjobs, handjobs, implied anal sex

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve’s mouth is busy when the doorbell rings.

Worse yet, it’s busy in a way that it hasn’t been in nearly a week and he needs this.

Eddie tugs on his hair to pull him off his cock.

“C’mon, let me see who it is,” he leans down to kiss the corner of Steve’s mouth and somehow manages to tuck his leaking cock into his pants. Steve whines. “I’ll just be a second.”

Steve waits on his knees in their bedroom, hard and desperate to be full, in any way at all. He considers shoving his fingers in his ass to dull the ache, when Eddie comes rushing back into the room.

His face is beet red and he’s shaking.

Steve is immediately on his feet. “Is Rory okay?”

“Rory’s fine. As far as I know,” Eddie says as he throws a shirt on.

“Then what’s wrong?” Steve follows him, throwing the first shirt he sees on. It’s probably not his considering he never put one on after his workout.

“Your ex-wife is here.”

Steve freezes. She hasn’t been to this house since…well, since she signed over her rights as Rory’s other parent so Eddie could adopt her.

That was three years ago.

“Why the hell is she here? Did you open the door? Is she inside?” Steve doesn’t know what this could be about, but he’s not happy about the interruption no matter what.

“She’s standing outside. I saw it was her and came back,” Eddie pulls Steve to him and kisses the top of his head. “You want me to leave or stay?”

“Stay. Whatever she has to say can be said in front of you.”

They both walk to the front door, but Eddie hangs back, lets Steve lead this interaction.

“Elizabeth.” Steve’s voice is flat. “You still have my number, right?”

“I do,” she nods.

“Oh good. So you chose not to use it to let me know you were coming by?”

Eddie absolutely loves when Steve doesn’t hold back on his bitchiness. He has to remind himself that getting hard again right now would be a distraction he can’t afford to have.

It’s not that he really cares what Elizabeth thinks of him. He just doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s ruined his day.

“I was in the area and wanted to get this checked off my list,” she explains. “May I come in?”

“Do you need to?”

God, Eddie is actually going to sink to his knees. Steve is so hot when he gets like this.

“I wanted to discuss Rory’s trust fund.”

Eddie’s heart stops. When Elizabeth signed her rights away, she agreed that Rory would get to keep her trust fund, and she would continue to put money into her college fund until she turned 18. It’s not that Rory needs them, but it would be shitty of her to retract those promises now.

“If you don’t want her to have it, then-”

“No. I wanted to let you know I’m getting a divorce and my accountant has recommended I transfer it to you until she’s 21.”

Steve does well holding back his shock at her announcement, but Eddie knows he doesn’t hide it. His jaw is practically on the floor.

“He can’t take the trust fund,” Steve states.

“No, but any assets I have possession of will be included in the settlement. I don’t want it as a factor in the alimony.”

Eddie’s eyes are like saucers.

“Alimony? Did you cheat?”

“The man is old. I wasn’t getting what I needed. It’s not like he never cheated.”

Eddie is so glad Steve got away from her quickly.

“Right. Well, send me the paperwork and I’ll have my lawyer look it over. Thanks for stopping by.”

He slams the door and locks it, and Eddie is on him before he even hears footsteps walking away. He pushes Steve against the door and pulls his pants down fast enough that it nearly makes Steve fall forward.

“Jesus, Eds.”

“You are so fucking hot. Please let me fuck you,” Eddie begs.

“Here?” Steve laughs.

“Right here. Don’t even care if she hears.”

Steve smirks and pulls his shirt off– Eddie’s pajama shirt– and leans back against the door.

“Better get to it, then.”

“Wait,” Eddie pauses and uses his brain for a second. “I’m like, really close. I’m not gonna make it through opening you up.”

Steve laughs, and it may sound mean, but Eddie shivers.

Eddie’s pants are dropped almost as quickly as Steve’s were and Steve’s hand is wrapped around them both before Eddie can even offer to help.

“We’ll come together now, but you’re fucking me against this door after.”

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Princess and the B

Barty Crouch Jr x Nott!Reader

Summary: Barty rescues you when your older brother refuses to let you go to the Yule Ball.

Tags: Pureblood Reader, Slytherin reader, Ravenclaw Barty, fluff, mention of weddings, Yule Ball

“I forbid it.” Tiberius declares, silencing the common room. The only noise heard in the dungeon ishelake splashing against the window. “Ti, that’s not fair. Everyone else is going.” His glare sharpens as he stalks forward. “I do not care if you find it fair or not. Since Father passed, it is my job to protect you. I cannot let you go to the ball with a boy who will defile and use you to get closer to our family name.” I sigh, stubborn tears pull in the corner of my eyes. “Ti.” I whine, stomping my foot. Sure I am acting like a child, stomping my foot, but surely Tiberius can’t control every aspect of my life. Just because he is head of house does not allow him to act like my father.

“Nott, may I interrupt?” Barty Crouch Jr steps in between, creating a wall between my brother and I. “What do you want Crouch? Aren’t you supposed to be up in your bird’s nest?” Tiberius snaps, furious at the intrusion of our conversation. “Well since your dear little sis just wants to go to the ball so bad and you're worried someone will use her, which is unlikely with how smart she is.” Barty sends a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to appear on my cheeks. “Seeing as I am a Crouch, who’s vault is just as vast as the Notts, why don’t I take her?” Tiberius eyes squint questionably as he looks at Crouch. “What do you get to gain from this?” I look at Crouch, one of the most eligible and most desired men of our year. What does he gain from taking me?

"First off, I wouldn’t have to keep fighting all the desperate witches throwing themselves at me.” The common room erupts in chuckles and scoffs, reminding me this conversation was very much public. Barty steps back, falling beside me. “Plus she is great company.” His hand hovers over the center of my back. Tiberius looks between the two of us. Minutes pass as the common room waits. “Fine. I will allow it.” I scoff as Ti leaves, returning to his room with Malfoy. “Don’t expect me to thank you. You, Barty Crouch Jr, are not my hero.” I snap, ignoring the giant smirk on his beautiful tan face. “Whatever you say princess.” I stomp my foot, turning to leave. “Go back to your nest Junior.” His belly laugh fills the common room. “Good night Princess.”

My hands run over the navy blue dress, wiping any creases (and anxiety) away. “Darling, quit fretting. Junior is going to drop to his knees when he sees you.” Narcissa brushes the hair out of my face. I nod. She was right. I am hot. Barty is lucky to be my date. No need to panic.

“Thank you Cissa.”

My heart thundered as I walked down the stairs. Salazar, why am I so nervous? This was a mutually beneficial deal. I get to go to the ball without Tiberius breathing down my neck and Barty won’t have to worry about girls flinging themselves at him.

The air in my throat catches as I notice Barty at the end of the staircase. His jet black hair styled perfectly. His dark green robes perfect. The soft smile on his face. Perfect.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, princess.” I take his arm, fingers curling around his bicep. “You look acceptable, Junior.” I tease, a lazy smirk on my face. “You know you will say my name willingly by the end of the night.” The twinkle in his eye almost made me believe it. I giggle, leaning my head against his shoulder as we walk into the Great Hall. “Not a chance.”

Four Years Later

“One more dance. Please.” Barty whispers, his arms wrapped around my waist. His chapped lips leave a small trail of kisses from my neck to my bare shoulder. I giggle, leaning into his hold. I stood in the middle of our bedroom, dressed in one of his shirts. “B, I’m sleepy.” Barty chuckles, spinning me around. “Cmon, princess. It’s our wedding night.” He presses a kiss to my cheek. “One more dance for your dear husband.” I yawn, nodding. “Whatever you want, love.” Another kiss, this time on my nose. “Anything?” I tilt my head up, a twinkle in his dark gray eyes reminds me of our first dance. “Anything. Within reason.” His head falls back, a hearty chuckle falls from his lips. “We are Crouchs. There is no reason.” I giggle, swaying in place. “I love you B.” Barty leans down, pressing a slow kiss to my lips. “I love you too, Princess.”

[fubu18writes]

❧a sugar daddy always treats his sugar baby right

♢regular tags: sugar daddy!kokonoi, sugar baby!reader, f!reader, established relationship, a bit fluffy ♢mature tags: age gap (koko is in his mid-thirties, reader is in their early 20s), oral (fem receiving), a bit of cock worship if you squint, nipple play if you also squint, idk what it's called but reader puts koko's dick inbetween her breasts (i think it's a titjob or titfucking look idk about this), squirting ♢all characters are 18+ until stated otherwise

a/n: imma just say that... kokonoi can be gentle if he wanted to, okay?

After spending the day drinking vodka by the pool, you returned to your hotel room... only to discover that you were locked out. A cleaning lady eyed her suspiciously as you wander around the hall with only a bikini and a towel to cover your body.

And because you were a little bit angry at your boyfriend Kokonoi, you decided to stay in separate hotel rooms. Luckily... he was staring on the same floor as you.

You were hesitant once you made it to his room number, but you decided to throw your pride away and just knock on the door.

A few seconds pass by before you heard the door unlock, revealing Koko. "Baby, what happened?" He asks, looking at your shivering figure. You looked away, a bit embarrassed. "...I lost my room key." You managed to say.

He lets you in, and you examine the room a little. The room was dimly lit, and papers were neatly placed on the table. Koko handed you a bathrobe soon after. "I'll set up the coffee, okay?" He says as he heads off into the kitchen.

You put the bathrobe on and take a seat on one of the seats near the window. Koko came back with two cups and a kettle, and you were looking at the view. "Wow... your view is so much nicer than mine," You say. You hear Koko chuckle. "Well, you can come here at any time."

"I'm sorry about all of this," You apologize, referring to the fight you had a few days ago.

Koko shook his head. "No, don't apologize. It was my fault for not telling you anyway." He reassures.

There was a comfortable silence as he poured the coffee in the cups, admiring him as he does so. Long, white hair, cat-like eyes, a black polo shirt and khakis. While he may be snarky and cocky in public, to you, he was one of the sweetest persons you could ever ask for. Even if the age difference was a little jarring at first.

In other words, you found Kokonoi Hajime irresistable.

The both of you talked, laughed, and flirted for about an hour or so. By this time, you came out of the bathroom, all dried up. Koko was sipping some whiskey from his glass, and looked at you with a smile. "Your hair looks pretty like that, all curly." He says with a chuckle.

"Ah... no, I feel goofy with curly hair..." You say, your face turning red.

Koko let out another chuckle, rolling the ice cubes in his glass. "Not at all, really. And considering that we're not in the office..." His tone was definitely suggesting something, and you could feel it. "We can do whatever we want here..." He finishes, placing the glass down on the table before putting a hand on your thigh. At that, you leaned in and kissed him, the faint taste of whiskey still lingering on his lips.

The kiss was incredible. The bathrobe became untied as they traded tongues. She felt his grip on her thigh, his touch firm yet restrained. When you both pulled away from the kiss, you took his hand and led him to the couch. Koko was sitting, yet you were still standing up. Koko reclines, and you noticed the contour of his swelling dick in his pants. You leaned over, placing your hands on his upper thighs, allowing your breasts to dangle in front of his face.

"I just dried myself up, daddy," You say with a giggle. "You're going to make me all wet again..."

Koko let out a grin as you go down, carefully unbuttoning his pants. You pull them down, seeing his boxers and the head of his dick poking out of the bottom. You slowly climbed on top of Koko, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you both kissed again.

Koko's hands stay firm on your ass as you grind on his hardened shaft. You were the first to pull away from the kiss, untying the strings of your bikini top, throwing it to the side to show your breasts and hardened nipples. "Look how my baby's turned on f'me..." Koko took her left one in his hand, and brought the pink nipple into his mouth.

You threw your head back in ecstasy. He lightly licked your nipple, and you could feel your bikini bottom becoming damp again. You clumsily pulled off his boxers, his dick springing up as you took it in your hand. His girth was impressive, and your hand looked small by comparison as you gently squeezed dick. You heard Koko groaning, giving you lustful eyes. "You like touching daddy's cock, baby?"

"I do..." You say with a shy whisper. "It's so big...~" You continue before kissing him again, crawling over to him on the other side of the couch. Koko took your ankles, jerking your hips close to him. You had curious anticipation in your eyes, and you let out a gasp when he tore away your bikini bottoms in one forceful tug. Koko saw your smile, your hair frizzy in the dim light before eyeing your pussy hungrily. He thumbed her glossed lips, taking her into his mouth as you grip onto his hair.

Koko could feel you squirming, and that only drove him to go deeper. The grip on his hair suddenly tightened as you moaned out, "Oh, fuck...~ daddy, do it more...~" and grinded on his face. Your ankles were shivering with pleasure, with Koko's hand on her inner thigh, and squeezed her breasts with the other. He pinched the edges of her nipple.

It was too much, all too much. You were close to cumming on his face before Koko came out for air, brushing his hair out of his face. The both of you were panting like animals from the sensation. You moved, turning yourself over and you felt the fabric of the couch on your nipples. You hoisted your ass in the air, despite your trembling legs. You turned to him, sounding out of breath as you asked, "Do you have a condom, daddy?"

Koko had one, of course... but he wasn't going to get it yet. "I wanna focus on my baby for a while longer, 'kay?" He asks her.

You weren't used to it. Or used to this for that matter. The farthest the both of you ever gone was just you sucking on his cock and him eating you out, but this? Nothing of the sort yet.

Maybe that was the advantage of being with an older man... he probably knew you were ready.

Without warning, Koko had licked your clit, sliding his fingers inside of her. Seeing you in this state made all the blood rush to his cock. He kept licking and playing until your toes curled, moaning out "Daddy, I-I'm gonna--!" and finally exploded into his mouth. You were out of breath, and all Koko could do was lick up every last drop of your cum. "Baby, you squirted all over...~" He says with a chuckle.

You were a bit embarrassed. "S-Sorry, daddy... it just felt too good..."

"You think you're ready for daddy's cock?" Koko asks as he leaves kisses on your neck. You only tilt your head to the side, managing out a whimper as he bites down on your sweet spot. "I think that's a yes."

Koko stood up, walking over to the bathroom and returned with a condom, his dick saluting her. He fixes the bathrobe, draping it on the couch. Koko applied the condom right in front of you. You could only clench against nothing, and you swore that you saw his cock twitch.

You held your breath, as she felt Koko gliding behind her. The couch began to creak, and you felt his tip just against your pussy before he slid the head inside of you. "T-Too big...~!" You moaned out, your legs shaking again as you gripped on the armrest. "Tell me if it hurts," He says earnestly as his fingers graze her hip.

Like a dream, their bodies move together in a timeless rhythm. You slowly eased his cock into you and rode him steadily. The soft glow of the lamp, their skin gleaming with sweat. "Fuuckkk...~" You moaned out. "D-Daddy...~ F-Fuck me deeper...~"

Koko slapped his hand on your ass, earning another moan from you. "Say that again, baby~"

"F-Fuck me deeper...~!" You moaned loudly.

The sound of their fucking echoed in the hotel room. You had to stabilize yourself, lowering your left leg until you felt the carpet on your bare foot. "Oh god, oh god...!" Your tits sway back and forth. "It feels s-so good, f-fuck me harder...~!"

You came a second time, with him inside as your spine cringed and curved. You let out a shout until your voice ran out. You saw Koko looming over you, and he takes off the condom with his left hand, jerking himself off.

You pressed your tits in between his cock, helping him. "Oh, fuck, baby..." He out a groan, his cock twitching as he released his essence all over. You felt his warm, white cum all generously all over your chest.

They basked in the afterglow of their sex, breathless. "Shit..." You say with a laugh. "I can't stop smiling..."

"You were incredible, baby." Koko kissed your forehead. "You held out and squirted all f'me...~"

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Such A Menace

Pairing: Ice Brady x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women's Basketball

Rating: Mature

Warnings: wlw smut, !glittery blue strap Ice, !top Ice, !bottom reader, Ice being a "bully", sensuality, and intimacy.

Summary: she may be a "bully" but she's yours and she loves to prove it

Tag: @elalfywhore

I heard her before I saw her. Ice had this habit of making her presence known in the loudest and most chaotic way possible—whether it was her laugh echoing down the halls or her sneakers scuffing purposefully against the gym floor.

And today was no different.

“You call that an outfit, babe?” Ice’s voice carried through the practice gym as I sat on the bleachers, scrolling on my phone. I looked up to see her sauntering over, her hands tucked casually into the pockets of her UConn warm-ups, a smug grin plastered across her face.

I rolled my eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Don’t start with me, Ice. I look good, and you know it.”

“Oh, you think you look good?” she teased, coming to a stop right in front of me. Her tall frame loomed over mine, and I had to tilt my head to meet her eyes. “I think you forgot to match your socks. That’s tragic, babe.”

I crossed my arms, glaring up at her. “And I think you forgot that I’m not one of your teammates you can mess with.”

Her grin widened, and she leaned down until her face was inches from mine. “Oh, but you’re my favorite person to mess with,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, teasing tone.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I looked away. “Whatever,” I muttered.

Ice chuckled, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. “Aww, you’re blushing. That’s cute.”

“Go away, Brady,” I said, trying to sound annoyed, but my voice wavered, betraying me.

“Make me.”

Before I could respond, she plopped down on the bleacher next to me, casually throwing an arm around my shoulders. I stiffened as she pulled me closer, her fingers toying with the hem of my shirt.

“You’re such a menace,” I grumbled, trying to squirm away, but she held me firmly in place.

“Yeah, but you love it,” she shot back, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my head.

I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at my lips.

Later that evening, we were back in her dorm. Ice had insisted I come over, claiming she wanted to “study,” but it was clear from the way she was sprawled across her bed, flipping through her phone, that studying was the last thing on her mind.

“Are you actually going to do any work, or am I just here to entertain you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She looked up, smirking. “You’re always here to entertain me, babe.”

“Seriously, Ice—”

“Seriously,” she mimicked, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

I threw a pillow at her, and she caught it effortlessly, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re mad,” she said, tossing the pillow aside and sitting up. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she patted the spot on the bed next to her. “C’mere.”

I hesitated, knowing that look all too well. It was the look she gave me right before she decided to push all my buttons.

“I don’t trust you,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

She laughed, leaning back on her elbows. “What, you think I’m gonna bite? C’mon, babe, I’m not that mean.”

I scoffed. “You literally told me my outfit was tragic earlier.”

“It was tragic,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I still think you’re the hottest person in the room, so what does that tell you?”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks burned at the compliment.

It wasn’t long before Ice’s teasing turned into something softer. She had a way of switching gears when I least expected it, going from relentless teasing to being the most affectionate person on the planet.

As I sat on her bed, her hand found mine, her fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns on my skin. “You know I only mess with you because I like seeing you all flustered, right?” she said, her voice softer now.

“I know,” I admitted, leaning into her touch. “But you’re still a bully.”

She laughed, pulling me into her lap. “A bully who’s absolutely obsessed with you,” she said, pressing her lips to mine.

“Just enjoy it, babe,” she cooed, her voice silky smooth. “Let me take care of you.”

With a skilled flick of her fingers, hand quickly pushing my blue thong out the way, she found my sweet spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me. I squirmed under her touch, the sensations overwhelming. With in a few minutes I was withering from her touch“Please… I need more,” I begged, my voice laced with desperation.

“More, huh?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I think I can manage that.”

As her fingers worked their magic, she leaned in closer, her mouth capturing mine in a heated kiss, her tongue dancing with mine. It was a heady mix of passion and control, the perfect combination that sent me spiraling into bliss.

Finally, she withdrew her hand, her eyes dark with desire. “I think you’re ready for me now,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

I nod letting her pull my shorts down, quick motion, breathless with anticipation as she flipped me over, positioning herself behind me, her hands gripping my hips. The moment the glittery blue strap pressed against me, a shiver of excitement raced through my body. “Tell me if it’s too much,” she murmured, her voice a velvety whisper.

With a gentle thrust, she entered me, the sensation sending waves of pleasure crashing over my body. I gasped, feeling both filled and cherished as she held me close. “You’re doing so good, f'me” Ice praised, her voice a soothing balm against the intensity of the moment.

As she began to move, the rhythm between us both built, a tantalizing dance of gentle and rough. The contrast was intoxicating, each thrust igniting a fire deep within me, pushing me closer to the edge. Ice’s hands gripped my waist, guiding me as she took me higher and higher, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. Skin slapping louding, my warm creamy juices falling to the base of the stap and onto the Satan sheets.

“Just let go,” she urged, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down my spine. With each thrust, I felt the tension building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within me.

“Ice… I’m so close,” I gasped, my body trembling with need.

“Come for me,” she commanded, her voice dripping with desire. “I want to feel you fall apart, on this dick baby.”

With a final thrust, the world around me shattered into a million pieces, pleasure crashing over me-us like a tidal wave as I surrendered to the bliss. Ice’s name fell from my lips like a prayer, each syllable a testament to the connection we shared.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, Ice pulled out slowly leaving me aching for more. She pulled me close, her breath warm against my skin. “You were amazing,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.

I smiled, feeling a warmth settle within me, the afterglow of our shared intimacy. In that moment, I knew that with Ice, every encounter was a beautiful blend of love and desire, a dance that would always leave me wanting more.

When she finally pulled away, she rested her forehead against mine, her eyes searching mine. “You know I love you, right?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, a soft smile spreading across my face. “I love you too, even if you are a pain in the ass.”

She grinned, her hands sliding down to squeeze my waist. “And don’t you forget it.”

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[rowan555]

Before Six years, five months, two days

Can we talk about how obsessed they are with each other before they even go on the subway?

At the Keepers meeting, as soon as they start talking they are touching elbows and arms, super close. SO much eye contact in the conversation and Lila is like TEXTBOOK flirting - her lips slightly parted through their whole convo, sexy face on, and so many mischievous glances at Five. Nonchalantly placing her hand on his chest to put on his nametag and like ???lingering??? Oh yeah Nancy, make sure that nametag isn't coming off, very thorough name tag application.

Then the cafe, obviously more touching of the face, more eye contact, and smiles. Am I imagining it or does Lila's façade drop a little and she looks kinda guilty about wiping the powdered sugar off Five's face when Diego sees them through the window? She's then laughing right after, but a part of me wonders if she wanted to touch Five, did, liked it, felt bad, then bounced back and started laughing before the scene was over.

Then we have two scenes with Diego in the van, one with Five and then one with Lila.

When Diego confides in Five his concerns about Lila and the "little Greek guy" it's a VERY clever bit of writing that is TEEMING with doublespeak, Five states:

"Whatever this is (him and Lila), it's nothing. You guys have a family, kids, a home, only an idiot gives that up. Lila is no idiot" Five looks almost remorseful as he says she's not a idiot. IMO by calling it "this" Five acknowledges that there is something between them, but seems disappointed since he believes nothing could or would happen between them, but only due to her current circumstances.

Then Five states to Diego "Bury it. Deep. Cover that shit in concrete." which in this context makes way more sense for his own feelings (his growing affection for Lila) vs. advice you would give your sibling about concerns over their partner's potential infidelity.

Diego then states "You're a good brother." and the shot lingers on Five's face as he looks painfully guilty. We follow up with a long shot of Lila, peering at them secretly, which adds to the perception that this exchange may be more significant than what the surface-level conversation appears to be.

Also, at the beginning of this whole conversation, Five lies for Lila by saying "Well she has that book club" to Diego. I think it's interesting that Five's first instinct here is to be loyal to Lila and keep up her lie rather than coming clean to Diego. His loyalty is already to her over him.

At the New Grumpson Christmas festival, when Diego throws axes to impress her, she looks at him (very annoyed) for a whole 2 seconds then immediately starts scanning the crowd, super distracted, not caring what Diego is doing or saying (this is a little sad). What is she looking for?? Five of course. She quickly excuses herself from Diego and seeks him out, finding him trying to blink. Then there is all this cutsie talk about kegels. They keep their heads down in a little tet-a-tet, and look annoyed when Diego joins them and starts asking questions. I melt a little when Five says "Mulled wine for myself, egg nog for the Lady". They are already on the same page. They already consider themselves a team of two within this larger team.

Then the van conversation with Lila and Diego, we get a shot of Five's face as the convo is starting, which makes sense because they do speak about him in their fight/conversation. But what stands out to me is that once Lila confesses that she has been working undercover, Diego gets upset Lila states

"You're acting as if I had an affair"

to which Diego responds "This is even worse!"

and they cut to Five's face and he looks SO annoyed. To me, he's thinking "Wait, you're with Lila, you've gotten to settle down, be normal, have kids and you think Lila going undercover tangentially with the CIA is worse than her having an affair and losing all that?" which I think is crazy to Five because Diego has the normalcy Five craves, with the person Five has the most chemistry with.

And this is BEFORE all the subway stuff. I honestly think they left us so many breadcrumbs before episode 5 and I'm having a delightful and delicious time finding them!

[unintentionaloracle]

The Honorary In-Law (Part One) [Fic]

Hoo boy this took a while (so long I said "screw it" to trying to make it plausible to the current timeline of events in actual kayfabe) but now my baby is done! And boy do I need it between The Jhea Drought and whatever is happening with Zowens. (Trips why are you hurting me specifically?)

Summary: Rhea and Jey have been keeping it casual for a while. But when Jey tries to arrange a meeting with her and Sami, can Rhea handle the pressure to not screw up her new romance? And will Kevin throw a wrench in them taking their next step?

(Also I do have Liv and Dom in here and mentions of Rhea having had relationships with both of them, but I'm not tagging those so far because it's only for like, a scene and it seems rude to tag past relationships that are only mentioned in passing. IDK I can tag those if you need me to I'm so tired, y'all.)

Part One: Double Your Trouble, Double Your Fun

 Rhea chuckled mischievously, planting one last kiss on Jey's lips. She glanced down at her handiwork: his mouth coated with her black lipstick. Her own probably looked like a mess, but it was worth it. She shifted her position on the couch from pinning and straddling the Intercontinental Champion to one that allowed her to curl up on him–head on his chest–almost like a contented cat.

 She could practically feel Jey grinning ear to ear as he held her. “I know I say this every time we make out, but...damn, Rhea...”

 Rhea grinned, rubbing his chest. “Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet...” She purred.

 “...Baby, this stuff is gonna wash off easily, right?” He asked, trying to check for himself.

 Rhea laughed. “No, you'll be walking around with that for a while. I got the good stuff,” she joked. “I gotta mark my territory, after all...”

 “I mean...I could've just written “Mami” on my sunglasses...”

 “Yeah,” she looked up at him with a smirk, “but then I wouldn't have had to kiss you.”

 “...Okay, nevermind...”

 A content warmth spread through Rhea. “Although, to be fair, I've got a million excuses to kiss you...” She said, wiggling her eyebrows.

 Jey laughed. He shifted them both around so Rhea was on the couch and he was on top. “Oh really? Do you need one?”

 Rhea smirked. She cupped his face as she pressed a spellbound Jey’s forehead to hers. “Nope. Especially not if you ask me nicely...”

 “Well then...Miss Rhea Ripley, may I please kiss you?” Jey said in a low, flirty tone as leaned in for another kiss.

It was then that Priest walked into his and Rhea's hotel room. “...Really? On the only couch?” He said as they turned to see him. Then he glanced at a flustered Jey. “That’s not your shade, man.”

 “Oh, come on, Damian. We aren't even screwing yet.” Rhea replied, making Jey choke on air. “And True Abyss is absolutely his shade!”

 Damian scoffed, trying to hide a smirk as he shook his head. “Just give me some heads up next time you have your new boytoy over, okay?” He said, heading to the bathroom.

 “Oh, fine.” She turned her attention back to Jey. “I swear, sometimes he's like a brother in an annoying way. Where were we?”

 “Actually,” Jey said, putting a finger to her lips...before he appeared to remember Rhea was an absolute menace of a flirt. He removed it before she could even open her mouth to do anything with that finger. “That reminds me: there's something I wanna ask you...”

 Concern rose through her body. “What?”

 “It’s nothing bad, I was just thinking...I kinda wanna introduce you to Sami...”

 Rhea somewhat relaxed, concern replaced with confusion. “...I've met Sami, Jey...”

 “I meant re-introduce him. You know, somewhere where you're not beating him and Kevin up to help The Judgement Day? A do-over.”

 “Why?”

 “Because you're important to me. And Sami's important to me, too.”

 Rhea felt touched, but also compelled to ask: “wouldn't it make more sense to introduce me to your family first? Or re-introduce me, I guess?”

 “I mean, Sami’s practically family,” Jey said plainly. “And right now, introducing you to my family is out of the question...”

 “Not even Jimmy?”

 “Nah. We're still trying to fix things between us...”

 “Roman?”

 “I can't stand to be in the same room as him longer than I have to.”

 “Your dad?”

 “No, no. Definitely not him. Trust me.”

 Rhea sighed. “And obviously Solo and his Bloodline are also out, even if I could take them...”

 “You could, but...” Jey cupped her face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek and smudging her initials she'd written on them. “Rhea, I don't want to make you have to deal with them, too. The Bloodline takes almost every good thing I have from me,” he pressed his forehead to hers. “I don't know what I'd do if they somehow took you, too. Plus, with all the crap you've been dealing with? I’d hate to get you tangled in my family ish because of me, baby. Know what I mean?”

 Rhea blinked. She didn't think she'd be touched by such a sentiment, but here she was, thinking of all the times she had to fight the men of The Judgement Day’s battles (especially Dom’s). And now Jey was here, not asking such a thing. He never would. It'd almost make her cry, if she didn't want to spoil the mood. Especially at this phase of their relationship: the “we aren't putting labels on it yet” phase.

 So instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, cupping his face back. “Yeet,” she purred.

 Damian left the bathroom, but this time the lovers barely registered his presence as they lovingly stared at each other in the far more suggestive pose. “WEPA! Jey, I'm taking your hotel room key and I'm crashing in there!”

 “Uh, that might not be a good idea, Uce. Kevin's crashing with us right now, and he and Sami have been really–”

 Damian swore, mumbling something under his breath about “how can Sami still be with that guy?” before declaring “Guess I'm heading out.”

 Jey gave a thumbs up before Rhea dragged him back down for a quick kiss. “Is that a yes?” He asked.

 “Yes...” She said, tangling herself around him.

---

 The next night on Raw, Rhea prepped for her match backstage. Liv wanted to make sure Rhea couldn't get her next shot at her and the title so easily. So she had arranged for there to be a Battle Royal to determine her next Number One Contender. Idiot. I’ve won a Royal Rumble from the Number One spot. A Battle Royal is nothing. Rhea thought.

 Still, Rhea knew she didn't exactly have friends in the women's locker room. She'd done some terrible things to a lot of the girls over the past two years. Stuff she hadn’t exactly apologized for. So, naturally, it was awkward between her and everyone else in the locker room. So much so that, when she went to get her gear, she just got changed in the bathroom and hung out everywhere but the locker room, instead.

 (She knew it was bad when Damage Ctrl shot her dirty looks.)

 As she made her way to gorilla position backstage, she had a brief run-in with Raquel. Rhea opted to ignore her and the impulse to forget everything she was aiming for to get some sweet revenge. She had a match to win, she just couldn't get distracted by any annoying–

 “Daddy Dom, it's gonna suck having to be away from your handsome face two matches in a row,” Liv said, pouting before Dom rubbed his nose to hers.

 “Son of a bitch,” Rhea said to herself, rolling her eyes at the display.

 “Yeah, cuz right after you observe the battle royal, I have my Intercontinental Championship match against Jey, and he’s got you and the guys banned from ringside. It's not fair...” Dom whined.

 Rhea couldn't help but gag. “That you have to fight your own battles like a man for once?” She said, aloud.

 The couple finally noticed she was in the room. Liv rolled her eyes. “Don't listen to him, Daddy Dom. You're plenty man for me. She's just jealous she has to settle for Jey, now.”

 “Oh honey, I am not settling with Jey. I'm more than satisfied...” Rhea replied, shooting Dom a look that made him avert his eyes.

 “Yeah, well... you're still probably gonna screw up with him! Just like you did with me!” Dom fired back, throwing his arm around Liv.

 “And me.” Liv added, cattily.

 Rhea felt a slight pang, but she couldn't let either of them notice. Or dwell on it. She put on her best smug smirk. “Uh huh...so tell me: do you enjoy making out because you're so into each other? Or is it because you both can still taste me?”

 Liv nearly lunged at her as Dom yelled, holding his girlfriend back. Rhea braced herself, motioning for them to bring it. She cackled as Liv flailed in Dom's arms and Dom struggled with her. That's when Rhea felt a hand ease around her waist.

 “Is there a problem, here?” Jey said, lowering his sunglasses. Rhea glanced at him, he was wearing black and purple on his gear, along with his signature blue and pink, and a pair of “Mami” sunglasses. She grinned a little at him before going back to glaring at her exes.

 “No...” Dom said (earning a groan from Triple H as he motioned for the cameraman to leave). “Just control Rhea...” He said, finally (and ungracefully) putting Liv down.

 “Yeah, control her!” Liv said, straightening her hair and outfit as she glared at Jey.

 “Y'all know nobody can control her,” Jey said fondly, squeezing her closer as Rhea threw an arm around him. He looked at Dom. “We'll finish this later,” Liv's music hit. “I think that's your cue to go...”

 Liv rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Daddy Dom! Walk me to the announce desk?” She said with a pout before they headed for the curtain. “And by the way, Rhea? The gear’s a bit much...” She added before leaving in a huff with her boyfriend.

 “YOU’RE ONE TO TALK IN THAT MINISKIRT WITH “PROPERTY OF DOM” ON THE ASS!” Rhea yelled back.

 Jey gave them a stern yeet goodbye before he finally seemed to notice Rhea’s outfit: white, blue and pink gear with a “YEET” collar. She even had sunglasses that had “R+J” written on them (her makeup had the same written on her cheek). He grinned. “Well, I like it.”

 “Yeah, they aren't really my colors, but I love them on you...” She said, grinning back. “Oh, did you talk to Sami about tomorrow morning? Doing breakfast or brunch or whatever together?”

 “Yeah. I actually came to talk to you about that...”

---

 Jey gave a gentle knock to door of his and Sami’s hotel room. Sami sent him a quick text telling him to wait a moment, followed quickly by the all clear to come in.

 Jey entered the room to find Sami, half-dressed and still sitting in bed. “Mornin’, uce!” Jey said brightly.

 Sami tried to motion for him to be quiet.

 Kevin, who was lying beside him with his arms wrapped around Sami's waist, stirred. The Prizefighter had been crashing with Sami and Jey since his fights with his friends and subsequent suspension. (“I'm all he has left, Jey,” Sami had pleaded. “He needs somebody in his corner right now.”) He seemed to be chill with Jey, therefore Jey was chill with him. Besides, he knew there was no talking Sami out of helping someone, especially Kevin. 

 Kevin said something sleepily in French, eyes still shut.

 Sami rubbed Kevin's back and said something sweetly in French. Jey guessed it was something like “It's just Jey, my love.”

 Kevin nodded, squeezing Sami tighter. He said something else in French.

 Sami replied in French.

 Kevin repeated what he said in French as a question.

 Sami huffed and repeated himself, apparently correcting what he'd said before. Kevin chuckled and settled back down.

  “Merci, beau,” Kevin said, smiling contently as he cocooned himself in blankets. He actually looked relaxed...and happy. More than Jey had seen him in weeks...or ever. It honestly kinda scared him a bit. Jey knew how to handle an angry, rampaging Kevin. But a blissful one? A blissful one felt like a trap.

 But Sami's the happiest I've seen him in weeks, all things considered, Jey thought. So I can live with that...

 “Someone looks like he had a good night with his girlfriend,” Sami teased, his voice a whisper.

 Jey covered the hickey on his neck and tried to wipe the lipstick smudges from his mouth again, flustered. “Ah, c'mon, man. We haven't made it official yet.” He said. “We're taking our time...”

 Still... Jey thought. He was more than willing to give Rhea the time she needed, but sometimes he kinda worried that maybe she wasn't as serious about him as he was about her.

 “I know...” Sami replied. “But seriously, you seem happy.”

 “I am! I did have a good time...” Jey said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I asked her about meeting up with you...”

 “And?”

 “She's down for it! She thought maybe we could get breakfast on Tuesday. Or brunch. She just kinda thought it might not be as awkward as a dinner after work or something,” Jey said.

 “Oh! Okay, yeah. I think I could work with that...” Sami said.

 Kevin stirred again. “You're going to breakfast with Jey?” He said, now more awake.

 “And Rhea,” Sami said. He explained the plan to “re-introduce” the two to Kevin. Kevin stared at him groggily the whole time, his eyebrow raised.

 “Can I tag along?” Kevin asked.

 Sami blinked. “You want to “re-meet” Rhea?”

 Kevin nodded. “We're a package deal, aren't we? Plus, what if this is all a ploy and she turns on you guys? You need some protection. What're they gonna do? Suspend me more?”

 It's called firing, Uce. Jey thought. He had other concerns, too. Kevin was so unpredictable, lately. Did he really want to bring that around his girl? Especially when he didn't want her around his mess of a family?

 “I mean, if she's cool with it, I'm cool with it,” Sami said. “It'll almost be like a double date...”

 “See!? A package deal!”

 Jey chuckled awkwardly. “I can run it by her...”

---

 “So...” Jey said, one hand on his hip. He scratched at his goatee with the other. “How are you feeling about that?”

 Rhea folded her arms, thinking. The idea of Kevin hanging around didn't exactly thrill her. Not for his behavior, of course. (She knew she could lay him out if he acted up.) But she was already somewhat anxious about trying to win over Sami, given their history. Throwing his unstable boyfriend in? Who held a hell of a grudge? You might as well ask her to do an MMA fight with a kangaroo, that'd be easier.

 Still, Dom and Liv’s taunts about their failed relationships with her started to echo in her head. I'm not gonna screw this one up! She thought.

 Her music hit. She jumped a little, startling Jey. “Oh, damn it...” She said. “Sure, he can come! I gotta go!” She quickly kissed him. “Bye!” She said, making her way to the curtain.

 “Uh, bye...Good luck, baby! You got this!” Jey called after her.

 Rhea smiled, confidence returning. She shoved the personal drama aside in her head and went into Match Mode. As she did her signature stomp in her entrance, she thought: I do got this. I'm gonna get my title shot, then I'm gonna crush the whole “winning over Sami and Kevin” thing!

---

 Rhea threw some stuff around backstage after the match, screaming. Priest ran up to her, “Hey, take it easy, Rhea! What's up?”

 She stopped her rampage, breathing heavily. “Did you not see that match!?” Rhea asked. 

 “No, I was talking to Pearce about getting my title back. I take it it went b–?”

 “Raquel and Liv cost me my shot by cheating after I eliminated Raquel because they're bloody cowards!” She shouted. “Now MAXXINE has my title shot!” Rhea let out another yell before burying her face in Damian's torso and hugging him.

 Damian patted her back. “Ouch. I'm sorry, Rhea. But hey, good for Maxxine, at least...”

 “Whose side are you on?” She asked, as if she hadn't enjoyed a hyped-on-victory Maxxine performing an arm drag on Liv when they faced off after and the latter held up her title in the ring, trying to act like she was the baddest to ever do it.

 “Yours. Always. Need me to put the fear of God in them? Maybe put Dom on the shelf?” Damian asked.

 “No, I don't want you suspended...” Rhea said. “Besides, I need to take out Raquel first...” She was gonna get nowhere with Liv's little bodyguard around. She clung to Damian a little tighter.

 Damian chuckled. “Alright...” Damian hugged her back. “Hey, is that all that's wrong?”

 “I'm just stressing about this breakfast thing I'm doing with Jey and Sami. Kevin apparently invited himself along so now I have to deal with that too.”

 “Oof. Need me to come along?” He asked.

 “I'd love you to, but I gotta do this on my own, Priest...” Rhea replied. “I don't want to make this messier...” Or more awkward.

 “Okay, but if you need me, or an excuse to leave, just hit me up and I'll get you out of there, all right?” He said, giving her a kiss on the top of her head and a pat on her back before letting her go.

 “Thanks, Priest. I appreciate it.” Rhea waved goodbye as Damian walked off. She took a deep breath, ready to just take a moment to collect her thoughts...

 Cathy came by, mic and film crew at hand. “Rhea, tough loss tonight. How do you feel—?”

 Rhea let out a scream of frustration and stormed off, in search of a breakable outlet for her rage.

To Be Continued...

[mochinomnoms]

Hellooo

Congrats on your 1K!!!🎉🎉🎉

I discovered you blog recently and I am HOOKED, your writing is so tasty and fluid that I just keep going ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

I Hope you dont get too tired with requests, take breaks and drink water!!!

Ok for the actual ask, may I have a dialogue 19 with Eyedress, and if it were suggestive it would be perfect

Preferably Ruggie💞 you can choose the other 2 (If you even want to)

ruggie bucchi x gn!reader [tags] — suggestive, tiny bit of hurt but not really [wc} - 1, 025 prompt 19 “I try to find a reason to pull us apart"” song: Kiss Me Like It’s the First Time (Eyedress, “Let's Skip to the Wedding”) note - Ruggie canonically calls you a puppy. take that with what you will. francesca (1k event)

“Kiss me like it's the last time/ You'll fall in love / I always want your love”

Ruggie knows that compared to everyone else on campus, he was the bottom of the barrel. He wasn’t a prince, an heir to a fortune, or even from a well-off family. Sure, his Grandma was a wonderful lady, maybe a bit strict growing up, but besides her and their home, Ruggie didn’t have much to offer. Maybe if you weren’t in such a bad spot, if you had a good family here, if you hadn’t been plucked from your world with nothing but the clothes on your back, he’d be happy to call you his own. 

But he can’t. How can he when you have people willing to drop thousands of thaumarks on you like it’s nothing. Literally! He was listening to Kalim run his mouth as he talked about renovating Ramshackle to your preference. 

“Oh! And we can get you quartz countertops! What kind of colors do you like, I can have it made to your favorite aesthetic! Ooh, what if we replaced all the appliances to match it? The kitchen back home has a gas stove built into the countertop, we can replace—”

“Uh, I’d need gas for that though, right?” You laughed, splayed across Ruggie as you two lay in your bed. Kalim was on video call with you, having gone back home for the weekend for some sort of event. You’d been complaining about one of your kitchen cabinets breaking and letting your few plates tumble out. Thank the Seven that they were plastic dishes. 

Kalim being, well, Kalim, immediately went into a tangent about adding in a gas line to your dorm and adding this and that. Everyone was acutely aware that Kalim, as generous and kind as he was, was especially sweet on you. There were even some rumors that he had a crush on you, something that made Ruggie feel ill. 

You just laughed off Kalim as he continued to whine about fixing up the dorm. You ended the call as you cheerfully told Kailm goodnight. 

“Do whatever you want Kalim, I won’t complain about free renovations! Good night, say bye Rugs.”

“Hmm? Oh, bye Kalim.” Ruggie gave Kalim a small smile and wave, who returned it with a beaming grin. 

After a few more words between you and Kalim, you finally ended the video call, tossing your phone to the night stand, and moving to straddle Ruggie’s hips. 

“What’s wrong?”

Ruggie blinked up at you in confusion. “What?”

“What’s wrong? Your ears are flat, they only go flat when you’re upset.” Ruggie whimpered as you leaned down to flutter kisses down his throat, shuddering as you pressed your teeth against his Adam's apple. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? You jealous?” 

“Mmh, no I’m just—aaaAAAaaaAhH!” Ruggie yelped as you dug your teeth into the nape of his neck, suckling until you were satisfied with the bruising red mark forming on his skin. 

“Geez, give a guy a warning, won’t ya?” Ruggie let out a breathless chuckle, his chest rumbling as he purred from each kiss you pressed up your neck as you hovered over his lips. “You’re nothing but trouble, Puppy.”

“And yet, you love this trouble, don’t you?” The sound of your kissing, mixed with gasps and sighs from both of you echoed in the room.

“Now tell me,” Ruggie tried following your lips as you pulled away, but you kept him pinned to the bed. By now, you’d managed to throw his shirt across the room and traced your nails down Ruggie’s chest. “Why are you upset? Was it Kalim’s call? You know, he just likes to say hi sometimes.”

Ruggie pinned his ears flatter against his head, huffing as he looked to the side, though be traced his hands up and down your arms. 

“Nothin’, it’s just that Kalim sure likes to spoil ya. You know?”

You hummed, waiting for him to keep going. 

“I’m just saying, he’s really sweet on you. Maybe you should consider taking advantage and marrying the guy!” Ruggie laughed, though it sounded forced. 

He stopped as you clicked your tongue, leaning back down to bite at his cheek. 

“Hey! You know your teeth aren’t really sharp enough for that.” Ruggie chuckled as you stopped and pouted, looking up at him as you batted your eyelashes. 

“Hmph, it’s like you just wanna get rid of me.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“That’s what it sounds like!” You argued, huffing into his neck as you pushed yourself against his chest and neck, like you were trying to mold yourself to him. “You always do this. If I didn’t want to be with you, I would’ve left already…”

Ruggie sighed, rubbing the skin between your shirt and bottoms with his thumbs. “I know, I know. I just think that you oughta take advantage. Kalim’s not the only one, and you’re all by yourself here! Get yourself a rich boyfriend, and you’re set for life!”

You suddenly grabbed the back of his head, pulling at his hair to make Ruggie expose his neck again. He whimpered at the rough touch, though his tail was wagging rapidly against the sheets. 

“And why would I do that?” His hand slid under your shirt and up your spine. He gently scratched your back as you shuddered into his touch. “When I have such a lovely boyfriend?”

Lips molded against each other, teeth clashed, and hips rolled as Ruggie, once again, failed to push you away. Instead, as he slipped your shirt off and moved to give you your own love bites and hickeys, Ruggie moved to bring your bodies closer together. Ruggie let himself lose himself in you once again, and would continue to do so. Again and again, until he found another half-hearted excuse. 

But for now? 

You pulled away again, breathless and flushed. “I just want to spoil my hardworking hyena, won’t you let your Puppy do that?” The down right heady tone in your voice, in that low, soft whine, made him hot in all the right places. Ruggie nodded, giving you the okay to wreck him. 

For now, he’ll indulge, shamelessly, in you. As long as you’ll continue to have him. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

(i kept forgetting to make this post for a while and only remembered when i was reading @antispopausandstuff 's recent post; sorry for the tag!)

i have to say this: catra having a mental breakdown basically every single season was pathetic.

usually villains have a third-act breakdown where they realize that they're losing to the heroes or they're losing control over their own allies, and they spiral into anger and desperation.

azula's spiralling in s3 of atla is a clear example of this, as she goes from the level-headed, cunning prodigy to a child who has lost everyone in her life and is desperately trying to use fear to keep people around. it's tragic because yes, she's a horrible person who enjoys torturing people and seeing them in pain, but she's also a 13 year old who was groomed into the perfect soldier by her father.

not all third-act breakdowns are like this though. sometimes instead of feeling bad for the villain, we feel satisfied seeing their downfall, because they weren't a sympathetic character in the slightest and they deserved to have that realization right before getting their ass whooped.

with catra, i get neither of these. i guess i felt a little bad for her the first time and i felt satisfied the second time, but then it just got boring.

there was no need for her to have a meltdown in every single season, only for the writers to use it as an excuse to make catra do even worse shit and hurt more people.

not to mention, her mental state wasn't consistent enough during these breakdowns. let me explain. let's take the s3 one, for instance.

catra is clearly rattled by the knowledge that shadow weaver picked adora over her (which.. wow who would have thought. but whatever). she is dissociating as she walks back to scorpia, there are tears in her eyes, she's devastated.

but then, as soon as catra reaches the horde with adora as her prisoner, she seems perfectly fine. she's calm and smirking proudly as she throws a bound adora to the floor.

and then when entrapta tries to oppose catra's attempts at opening the portal, oh no! catra is not mentally well again and she electrocutes entrapta. and she threatens to do the same to scorpia.

and then she goes right back to being calm and tells hordak that entrapta betrayed him (i'm sorry i don't care how good at lying someone is, i doubt they can deliver such a convincing lie when they are in a poor mental state) and mocks him for trusting entrapta.

and then throughout the portal sequence, catra is oddly calm. not just during the false reality, when she was pretending that everything was normal, but even after that when she starts sadistically torturing adora.

this doesn't seem like a character who finally snapped and is doing horrible things in a desperate attempt to regain control. it reads as a character who always wanted to do horrible things and finally got the chance to do it.

i can't view catra's breakdown in s3 as sympathetic because her actions seemed so intentional. the writers didn't even try to make it look like catra was going through some serious mental health issues and was only making such a dangerous choice because of that.

coming back to my original point, repeating a trope (especially a one-time trope like this) quickly gets stale. and it's even funnier when you think about the fact that catra basically had a dedicated mental breakdown every season and still didn't learn her lesson.

you stop feeling sorry for her and start rolling your eyes, wondering what atrocities she's going to commit this time. it's just the same thing over and over again, and it's funny that the writers used this as a way to keep reminding viewers that catra is a poor traumatized baby who definitely didn't make the choices that led to all this.

it's just bad writing. sure, in real life, people may have multiple breakdowns if they going through some shit. i can certainly attest. but it just doesn't work from a story point of view, especially when the writers refuse to hold catra accountable for your actions. mental health issues or not, you are responsible for your actions and you should work on changing your unhealthy coping mechanisms.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

more literary & character tropes

Tropes - themes, motifs, plot devices, plot points, and storylines that have become familiar genre conventions

All writers manipulate language to create certain effects. At the level of individual phrases and sentences, the skillful use of tropes is key to creating writing that’s fresh, memorable, and persuasive.

Artifical Script - found mainly in fantasy settings, this trope is about fictional scripts invented by the author.

Busman's Vocabulary - when a character in a certain profession isn't on the job, they're going to still use jargon from that profession, basically to let us know what they do for a living. Mafia guys will use "whacked" and the like, chefs will use culinary language, and so forth.

Classical Tongue - a language that isn't typically known or used by the common man. It may be dead and mostly forgotten, or only spoken by educated elites such as nobility, scholars, clergy, or mages. A few words from it might be used to denote something special, or it is used for something or someone's name, or someone who knows it might drop a phrase here and there in an attempt to sound clever, but don't expect the common masses to use it (anymore). It's often an Expy of Latin, if it isn't Latin itself.

Dissimile - when you attempt to make a comparison between two things that can't be usefully compared, realize your problem, and then throw more words at the argument in an attempt to salvage it. This just undermines your comparison even further, to the amusement of anyone listening. ["Boxing is a lot like ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other." — Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey]

Enslaved Tongue - certain types of monsters, wizards, and other supernatural or alien beings are able to control your voice, or otherwise replace your communications with those around you. They will use your voice to lie to teammates, friends and loved ones, or to deliver warnings or threats.

False Prophet - someone comes along and preaches a message about how they're going to make everyone's lives better. People will flock to them out of hope, or because they see an opportunity to increase their own power by aligning with the prophet. If they don't already have it, this figure will request assistance—physically, monetarily, or in some other way—so that their goals can be achieved.

The Grotesque - a character that induces both fear and pity in viewers because his deformities belie a perfectly normal — if not noble — personality. The pathos associated with The Grotesque is the implication that he could easily have been a well-adjusted member of society if not for the hideousness that he is powerless to remedy.

Higher Self - the aspect of a character which "knows better". More specifically, however, the Higher Self is the aspect which rises above whatever is going on in the plot and can see the situation in a way that's removed from emotional or melodramatic entanglement.

Inconsistent Spelling - when names and other terms are not spelled consistently in officially published materials (and not fan-made translations), usually because of transliteration issues.

Jeanne d'Archétype - a fictional character inspired by Saint Joan of Arc. This can incorporate various elements of the historical Joan's story. This character is Always Female, usually young, often an Action Girl, and often of humble origin. Her devotion to a religion, her country, or simply a desire to protect her loved ones causes her to assume an active role in liberating the oppressed from an overbearing force, eventually becoming not only a respected leader, but also a living symbol and a reminder of just how unjust the oppressors are if they bring out the warrior in the most unlikely of people. Therefore, her example directly inspires many otherwise ordinary people to follow in her footsteps and join the same cause.

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More: Literary & Character Tropes