#this is a call to note them. watch them. and then talk about other things.

[heartyluv]

Note: This quite literally came to me in a dream. Like��I WAS THERE. I HAD TO WRITE IT. Genuinely, I am in love with this. No need for me to yap. I hope you enjoy. Love you, beauties!

Warning: Smut, Sylus talks about killing while he’s in you, he pours syrup on them 🍒 and licks it off, he has battle scars, very brief mention of him wanting to claim you in blood (IT’S NOT CRAZY WHEN YOU READ IT, PROMISE!!!), slight breeding kink

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: The Empire’s beloved gladiator has had another day of monumental success and wants you as his victory night cap.

Gladiator!Sylus/Reader

When your name is spoken, your skin prickles with goosebumps from anticipation. After every arena held, this is what you always looked forward to.

“He has called for you.”

You look up from the book you’ve been reading, briefly scanning the dining hall that you were sitting in with several other women and feeling their gaze bore into you. Once you give your attention back to the guard who was usually the one to bring you to your champion, you nod and stand.

“Again?” one scoffs, seemingly believing she’s doing so silently enough for you not to hear.

“Out of all the women in the Empire, of all the women here,” another whispers. “He continues to choose—“

“Mind your tongue, new blood,” her maybe friend interrupts. “Have you gone mad? Should she tell him of your venomous and foolish words, you will suffer the consequences. He’s proven so before.”

The golden jewelry decorating your body clinks and jingles with each movement as you slide on your simple sandals to protect your feet from the dirt and stone floor. All eyes are on you when you make your way out the door, silently following behind the large man who was no feat compared to the one whose bed you’d warm tonight.

Everyone within and out of your grandiose town treated you with respect, even the ones who harbored jealousy for you or for the man your soul belonged to. They had no choice if they valued their life and if they didn’t know better, they were always soon made aware.

So in your short journey to the extravagant halls in which your warrior rested after his wins, each individual along your path nodded their heads or turned away out of respect. None were to even speak to you if it wasn’t by his order.

Your Sylus.

The gladiator who’s never lost a fight. One who is so victorious that he’s not just a staple in your town and several others, but in the entire Empire.

A man whom has never been conquered. At least, not physically.

No, the only thing of his that has been claimed and owned by another was his heart. And it was yours.

“Good night, miss.” The guard offered his farewell once you were right outside the giant wooden doors that led to your beloved beast.

After he has fully departed, you softly knock twice to alert Sylus of your arrival.

“Come in, kitten.” He’s memorized everything that is you. How you talk, smell, walk, knock, breathe—it’s all information and knowledge he has safely tucked in his mind. Even if he hadn’t called for you, he would’ve known those gentle raps against his door to be his lover.

Once you enter, the large warm candlelit room was perfectly illuminated to grant you the glorious sight of a nearly nude Sylus, a thin ivory sheet laying across his hips being the only thing separating your eyes from his thick cock that makes an impressive tent beneath.

“Beautiful,” he grins as he takes you in, one strong muscled arm flexing while he rests a hand behind his neck. The white-silver hair atop his head matches the patch beneath his armpit and the trail that sneaks below his bellybutton and beneath the duvet. His hard and large body is adorned with dozens of scars with stories to tell—most old, a few new.

“Congratulations on your success today, my love,”you note after shutting the door, bowing in the way you’ve seen so many do to him before. “I watched it all.”

“I know you did.” He holds a hand out to you. “And I’ve told you, no need for the formalities. Come. I’ve missed my woman.”

“Have you now?” you tease, kicking off your shoes. “It’s only been a few days.”

“A second without you is a poor existence. Tell me, have you not ached for me to the same degree, sweetie?”

“Perhaps once I’m sitting on your cock, you can let me know if you can feel how badly I’ve craved you.”

His dick throbs at your words, his body shifting as if it would relieve any of the pressure. Beginning to walk barefoot toward him, he puts up a hand to halt you, grinning at the way you meet his gaze head on.

“Get undressed for me. Show me my prize.”

You lick your lips, staring into his mesmerizing rubies as you tug the thin material of your dress down your shoulders. Quickly does it pool at your feel, leaving you in nothing but all your bangles and necklaces that he has gifted you.

He likes when you wear the things he buys you, so you don’t work to remove any of the expensive gold.

Once you’re at the side of his bed, he quickly pulls you in by the waist with strength seemingly inhumane, placing you on top of him. The only thing keeping him from slipping inside of you right now is the dreaded blanket, but you can feel his dick trying to nestle between your pussy lips, making you shiver.

He kisses all over your tits, sucking and nipping at your flesh to mark you in ways only he can. Your hand tangles in his hair as the soft crackle of the fireplace behind you sets the romantic atmosphere.

“I see they’ve fed you well,” you smile, looking at the assortment of fruits, cheese, sweets, and syrups he has on his bedside.

“This was intended to be my dessert after the feast they granted me.” He takes your nipple into his mouth, pulling a sexy moan from you. “But I had a different one in mind. A better one. My only one.”

Your hips try to rock in an effort to feel him more, but he holds you still by your waist. “Don’t rush this, kitten. Let me take my time with you. I like to savor my rewards.”

“Some rewards need to be claimed faster than others.”

“Indeed they do,” he grins into your neck as he peppers kisses down the kiss of your throat. “But greed…it’s a slippery slope. Grab the syrup, since you’re so eager.”

You’re not confused at all by his intentions. In fact, the mere thought of what he’s getting ready to do makes you clench around nothing.

Once you grab the small dish of berry syrup, he takes two generous handfuls of your ass, tilting his head lightly. “Pour some on yourself.”

“You’ll clean me?” you grin, using your other hand to take hold of his throat gently. He looks up at you with need, groaning when you lick his lips.

“Do what I say and we’ll find out, won’t we?”

You two stare into one another’s eyes as you tilt the bowl to let the sweetness stick to your tits. Immediately, Sylus’s hot tongue laps it up. The wet muscle licks down the valley of your breast before he alternates between two of his favorite things to give each of them the attention they deserve.

Your cunt throbs and your whines grow louder the harder he sucks.

“Yes…F—fuck, your mouth…” you cry, pouring more of the delicacy when he runs out. You go until the thing is empty and he’s running on lust and a sugar rush.

The soft pops his mouth sounds when he makes contact with your hot body is enough to have you completely soaked. He can feel your juices wetting the sheet, letting his cock know as it soaks it up, how badly you need him.

“Be good,” he mumbles breathlessly, unable to stop lathering you in kisses. “And let me in.”

Eagerly, you reach behind you to pull the fabric away, hissing when it grazes your clit. His cock sits between you once revealed, waiting for you to put him where he’d get on his knees and beg you to be. Sitting on your knees, Sylus kisses your lips tenderly as you start to sit down on his length, needing nothing but your bodies to guide him to your tight hole.

“Sylus…” you call his name once you’re filled with him. It’s a relic on your tongue, enchanting him how the two syllable spill out of you. You don’t wait for long, letting his strong hands explore your plush body as he guides you up and down his cock.

“I’ve killed men for you,” he declares, your breasts pressing against his hard chest only surging him on. You hold him closely, like he could snake out of your hold at any given moment.

“I’ve felt their blood mark my skin after I cut them down for the taunting words they’d spew in the arena.”

It was rare for anyone to not know that you and Sylus owned each other. It was even more rare for anyone to not know that should they utter your name with anything negative to follow it, Sylus would make them an example. His attentiveness to that has made it so he hasn’t had to make many.

The sound of slapping skin echos in the room, announcing the beauty of your lovemaking. “Their lives were already mine the moment they decided to go against me, but their fates were eternally sealed when your precious name was used in vain of their idiotic words. And you know what?”

“W—what?” You’re nearly drooling as his length moves within you, your wetness and his precum making a delicious mess along your gummy walls.

“I imagined me claiming you in their blood. Letting everyone watch as I show them how mad I can be for you. Would you let me, kitten?”

“Without hesitation…” you answer immediately, clenching tightly around him when you feel his dick pulse like it’s proud of you. Each dribble of his impending load leaking into your womb makes your mind grow infinitely more foggy with bliss.

“You like when I kill for you. I can feel how much harder you squeeze me.” He smirks cockily, but he’s right. He’s so fucking right and you don’t even care.

“I’m going to put my baby in your womb and the ring you deserve on your delicate finger.” His words hold so much promise.

“Please,” you beg. “Give it to m—me…Fuck, Sy…” Your thighs and legs burn, but you won’t stop. You refuse to—not when both of you are so close.

“My cum will take root,” he kisses down your shoulder. “And when you’re barefoot and pregnant with my seed, I’ll kill a thousand more in honor of the both of you.”

You slam your lips onto him, your tongue and his battling for control as you taste him. Naturally he wins, but you like to let him. You like being owned, protected, and loved by him. No matter how much you could hold your own, he has come into your life to show you that he can and will wield all of it so that you don’t have to.

His hands caress your back and you two fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, coming together at the same time. Your moans and mewls are pouring into his mouth just as his cum does inside of your pussy. He holds you down and close, doing everything in his power to make sure not a drop is wasted.

Your needy sounds curate the perfect symphony alongside his manly grunts and shuddering breath.

With the little bit of energy you have left, you grind against him to overstimulate your aching clit. When you can’t take anymore, you rest your chin on him and trace the scars along his arms in comfortable silence. You kiss each one your puffy mouth can reach, cleansing him with your affection.

“I’ll clean you before I have you again.” You giggle at how he says it so matter-of-factly.

“Good.” You pull back, sighing in contentment as he fondly kisses on your breasts once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mhm,” he continues to indulge. “You aren’t.”

A/N: Guys. What are we thinking? Me? Like I said—I LOVE THIS SO FREAKING MUCH!!! Like lowkey Camboy!Caleb level love. I started writing this last night before I fell asleep, and when I woke up this morning, it was like the little story never stopped. My fingers were just flyinggg (pause). LOLLLL!!

Creds to @/strangergraphics for the dividers!

[kdh-tally]

Baby x Reader Headcannons

Prompt : Headcannons of Baby and his Partner.

Author's Note : I might do one of these for each of the Saja Boys and Huntr/x girls. I started with Baby though because he currently has no pairing (and is actually my favourite Saja Boy lol)

You work at a small convenience store somewhere in the Hongdae shopping district. 

Your store is close to one of the popular schools but it’s small so most don’t even notice that there was an actual convenience store there.

One day the bell chimed, alerting you that someone came in.

You looked up from your phone only to come face to face with some cat eyed, blue haired boy. He looked familiar. Kinda like one of the boys on the ramen cups that were flying off shelves (when people actually came into the store).

“Welcome to Y/N’s convenience, what can I get you?”

He tilts his head, as though studying you, and all of a sudden you feel self conscious.

“You have anything spicy here?”

Your eyes widen noticeably in surprise. You didn’t expect his voice to be so deep or rough, especially when he had such a baby face.

Clearing your thoughts, you motioned to the back shelves with your head. “There should be some stuff back there. If you need help don’t be afraid to ask” you nodded before sending him off and leaning back into your seat.

As you opened your social media account, the very first video that popped up had the guy's face on it. “Join the pride,” he smirked at the camera as he stood next to a group of 4 other guys. 

Before you could look into it even more, the guy slammed a thick bottle of jalapeno sauce on the counter. You began to ring him up when he asked, “You wanna hang out?”.

Baby definitely came back the next day and every day after. 

He'd pretend to try new spicy combos, but really he's just standing in the ramen aisle waiting for you to notice him.

When you ask, “Didn’t you come in yesterday?” he just shrugs and responds, “I missed the vibe.”

You didn’t say it out loud, but you fixed your hair the next day before your shift.

He ends up really enjoying your presence, and really enjoying how much he can annoy you.

He’ll “accidentally” knock over the chip display just to hear you sigh and call him a menace.

Would bring you random drinks to “taste test” but makes you guess which is which by sniffing them. 

It was something he had tried on Mystery back in the dorms when Jinu was busy yapping to them about how they would be defeating the hunters. 

He eventually earns what he likes calling ‘behind the counter’ privileges. 

Basically means you allow him into the workers area, and behind the cash register so he doesn’t have to talk to you from across the counter.

He doesn’t do much working though. Mainly just watched youtube on his Ipad.

He always acts like you’re the one flirting with him. 

If you ever blush around him, he has his hands up as though surrendering or calming a rabid animal. “Woah, relax. I’m just here for the spicy chips.”

He calls you “Cashier-nim” for the first two weeks of knowing you, then switches to “pretty thing” whenever he feels like teasing you.

The day you finally found out he was actually THE Baby from Saja Boys, you were mid-bite of your snack and almost choked.

“Wait. You’re famous?”

“Duh.”

“Why are you HERE?”

“You’re here.” he says deadpan.

He once livestreamed from the store without telling you, and suddenly you had a line out the door and business took off.

He likes that you didn’t fangirl or scream when you found out. It makes him feel like a real person.

He also likes how calmly human you are. You’re one of the few that don’t go crazy because of his idol image but also don’t want to kill him. Not that you knew he was a demon anyways.

You’re one of the only people who can see past his teasing and know when he’s actually tired or stressed.

You don’t know why but you're pretty sure it's probably pressure from being an idol or something else.

He’ll sneak into the shop near closing time, hoodie pulled low above his head, hands in pockets, and just sit behind the counter with you while you do restock. No words, just chilling.

If fans ever asked if he was dating anyone, he’d smirk and go, “Maybe.” Not only are the fans shocked but so are the other boys.

They didn’t expect baby of all people to actually fall for a human and not tell them

They insist on meeting you but Baby refuses. He’s so calm about it too. 

Easily avoids all of them and poofs out of the building before they can follow him.

You two don’t do super fancy dates. You’ll walk the streets of Hongdae with spicy corn dogs and bubble tea, trying every new snack he spots.

He loves making you try unnecessarily spicy things just to watch your reactions, knowing you won’t be able to handle them. “C’mon, you survived me. You can survive this.”

He takes horrible selfies with you.

 Tongues out, fake gang signs that make him feel cool (he saw them on tiktok) and captions like “me n my boss lady”

Does he get jealous?

Baby? Nah, not really… Okay fine, a little.

If some schoolboy flirts with you while buying gum, Baby will suddenly “appear” from behind a shelf with 20 spicy ramen cups in his arms like “Pretty thing, help me figure out where to box these up yea?”

He’d dump the cups in your arms so he could take over the cash register and would absolutely glare into the boy's soul as he rings up his order.

The boy leaves.

He would call you things like: 

Cashier-nim : when you first met.

Boss Lady : Whenever you order him around.

Snack : When he tries to resist the urge to bite you. 

Trouble : When he wants to accuse you of flirting with him.

Pretty Thing : To get you flustered

Y/N-ie : Only calls you by your name during quiet and VERY sincere moments.

You call him things like: 

Spice King : You watched him down like 5 ghost peppers with ease.

Little Brat : Whenever he’s being annoying on purpose.

Incompetent toddler : You see the pattern?

Pretty Boy : Only when he’s being sweet.

Baby : It’s literally his name

He would confess to you by leaving a sticky note on the counter that says “Employee discount for boyfriends??”

Though its not super duper straight up, he’s still pretty to the point with it.

When you look up confused, he just winks and says, “I like you. Now say yes before I buy out your whole damn store.”

[demie90s]

Can you write a reader x UConn team and reader has like no filter like they could be in the most serious moment and reader would say something out of pocket

Why she got a mic?

UConn WBB Team x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Me. The team’s walking HR violation. No matter the mood, you will say something that has the whole team side-eyeing, laughing, or questioning reality.

Word Count: ~ 0.5k

Genre: Comedy, Team Fluff, Mild Crack

Warnings: Cussing, chaos, suggestiveness, mentions of thirst, reader being out of pocket at all times

The mic wasn’t even all the way clipped to your jersey before you started talking.

“So like…y’all gon’ feed us after this right? ‘Cause I don’t wanna sound ungrateful but that little fruit tray y’all gave us pregame made me feel like a parrot.”

You were dead serious. Meanwhile, the rest of the UConn team was already doing synchronized neck turns to Geno, who stared ahead like maybe if he focused hard enough he could astral project into retirement.

The reporter chuckled awkwardly. “Right, well—uh—let’s talk about the game. You had a breakout performance in the third quarter. What clicked?”

You nodded solemnly. “I had to pee real bad so I was tryna hurry up and get off the court. Y’all saw me running? That was urgency. It’s called motivation.”

Laughter broke out across the room. Aubrey dropped her head into her hands. Nika was crying silently.

Someone else raised their hand—braver than most.

“You guys really shut down USC’s offense tonight. What went into that defensive game plan?”

You tilted your head. “I mean, yeah. I saw that. USC good and all…but not as good as us so like…I don’t really care. Sorry.”

Caroline leaned in with a PR-smile. “What she means is we watched a lot of film and trusted each other—”

“No,” you cut in. “That’s not what I meant. I said what I said.”

The reporter blinked. “A-And uh—Aubrey, you had a great night on the boards…”

You slouched in your chair. “Yeah, and yet still no date.”

Aubrey snapped her head toward you. “Yo—”

“I told her, I said, ‘If God see fit and we win tonight, you gon’ say yes’—and we did. We won. And she still didn’t say yes. So she fake but that’s between her and the Lord.”

KK was wheezing. “You need help.”

You turned to her calmly. “Nah I need a girlfriend. Two different things.”

The reporter next to the stage was beet red now, trying not to laugh into their notes. “Okay, uh…next question—what was going through your mind during that final play?”

You crossed one leg over the other like this was Oprah. “I was thinking, if the world ended right then, we’d all go with it, so I might as well go out with a win. That’s real.”

Geno rubbed his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

You leaned into the mic again, like a closing statement. “Thank you. And please remember to feed athletes. We is hungry.”

The PR rep jumped in so fast her paper nearly flew off the table. “That’s it! Thanks so much, everyone!”

The moment y’all stepped backstage, Geno turned slowly.

“You know they record those, right?”

“Yeah Coach.”

“And they post them.”

“Mmhm.”

“You’re going to get us sued.”

You gave him your most sincere expression. “It’s okay. I got a lil savings.”

He looked like he aged ten years in five seconds.

Behind you, Aubrey shoved your shoulder, laughing. “Yo are you alright.”

You shrugged. “I’m just honest. And single. And hungry. Somebody gone address it.”

Just like that, you were back in the locker room, already hyping yourself up for post-game food and probably more chaos. Because filters are for water—not for you.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai

[saetiate]

call it what it is. (or, the five times sae and you are "just friends". and the one time it stops being possible to deny what this really is.)

itoshi sae x f!reader fluff. friends to lovers, first kiss, how love happens, reader goes by she/her pronouns and has some personality (sorry, i couldn't get around it bc of The Plot but i kept it as minimal as possible) word count: 2.3k author's note: you both have a whole dinner date, go to events together, take care of each other, and then get surprised when people think you're dating??? okay so the sound of fireworks are less obvious than whatever yall have going on

Bitterness churns at the back of your throat. Is it from the roasted beans of the coffee you've been slamming into your system for the last few days, or from the lack of sleep?

Not that it matters. You've worked OT, both your team and your clients are unhappy, and according to your Excel worksheet, you're on your 85th job application. So really, it doesn't get worse than —

The doorbell rings.

Who the actual —

You breathe out the biggest sigh at the pretty face standing before you. It's definitely the lack of sleep, isn't it? Either you really should've checked the peephole and put on something a little more flattering, or he's a hallucination.

Let's hope it's the latter. You move to close the door, and his hand reaches out lightning-quick, holding it still. In a spark of annoying rebellion, you press all of your body weight against the door, and it doesn't budge an inch.

Right. Athletes and their stupid, stupid strength.

"You didn't answer my calls."

They say sighing is a necessary part of your lungs, that one of the struggles of artificial lungs was getting them to sigh. You wonder if it meant this many times in a day. "Sae, I'm busy. Wait, I didn't answer your calls? You don't answer my texts 90% of the time."

Then he's in your entryway, because of course you can't argue where your neighbors can hear, that's rude. But then he's in your kitchen, washing his hands, opening your fridge.

"There's nothing in here. When's the last time you took a shower?"

"You come here just to insult me?"

A towel hits your face with an oof before it falls into your arms.

"Sae," you try again, as the towel slides down your cheek, "You can't just barge in here and —"

20 minutes later, there's two steaming bowls of katsu curry rice on your now-clean desk. Sae opens up the little ziplock of togarashi, leans it against your bento box with more care than you'd expect.

"Itakadimasu."

~

It's the strangest thing, walking into your place only for someone to already be in there. How the noise cuts through, something unbelonging but welcomed.

"You know, giving you the key wasn't so you could just walk in here whenever you want. It was for emergencies only."

The only answer you get is the smell of onions being caramelized, crackled sparks of savory in the air.

"I answered your call," you continue, undressing behind a half-open door. "So this can't be an emergency. And you have a much nicer place than this."

Sae barely glances at you as your head peeks into the kitchen. "You could stay there."

"What, with you? Like we're roommates? Nah, you'd see what a mess I am."

"I'm already seeing it."

A spatula waves in little circles around the pan.

“What are you doing here, Sae?”

Like he's already braced for the question, the refrigerator light beacons out into the descending night. Your favorite wine passes from his hand to yours.

"Got gifted it," he responds before you can even ask. You could've caught him looking at you, but the gold label glints with stars in your eyes.

"How'd you get gifted icewine? You've never talked about it in an interview."

He doesn't tell you he asked his manager for recommendations, that he knows they let it slip to someone looking for a brand deal with him. Instead, he watches as you struggle to pop the cork open, the xylophone clink of ice into twin wine glasses.

"So you do like sweet things," you comment as the nectared drink meets your tongue with a smile. There's a reverence to it: how he watches you chop the vegetables before sliding them into the pan, how the last remnants of today's sunlight filter through the window and past your hair.

Sweet things. He supposes he does like something like that.

~

"This event, is it a big deal?"

He vaguely hears a ruffle of clothing behind the half-shut bathroom door, lightstream swept across the floor. He offered you what he knows his teammates get their wives for these events — stylist, makeup artists — but he watched you stand in his bathroom layering on eyeshadow for yourself anyways.

I don't trust anyone else to touch me. A simple statement made stark.

"Sorry, Sae. Could you help zip me up please?"

Maybe it's that implication, that hidden trust you place in him, that makes his exhale a little shaky as one of his hands wraps around your waist to hold the dress down, the other carefully pulling up metal piece up.

You've often thought athletes would naturally be aggressive. You've seen Sae make a fast pass across the entire field without breaking a sweat. But when his hands are on you, they're always light. You think of the falling of snow, its soft and silent touch that comes unexpected, the easy descent it makes before it melts into the ground.

Love is a little like that, maybe.

~

It's a common feeling, to feel as if you're completely alone in this world. Easy to get into your own head, to see only yourself within four walls again and again and forget that there is a whole world outside. It's logical, well-researched, known. It's because of that that you can factor out the feelings when it hits you.

The four walls has never felt as striking as now, coughing into the hollow quiet. The morbid thought strikes that if you died here, no one would know. They'd find your body days later, after the smell starts to waft out.

But you chose this. To move and to fight and to create a life worth living. You, with your ambitions and heavy heart and endless survival faith that makes you somehow believe you can still make it. Sometimes you have to force a door close before wrenching another one open with nothing but your bare hands. Sometimes you have to swallow all your pride and roll up your sleeves and pray to no higher gods you worship that the decision you made is worth it.

You think you hear something click as your mind fogs back and forth into sleep. You hope whoever's burgling you will at least leave you alone and only take what they need. You hear your name, and then a shuffle, and god this is really the worst time to have a stalker.

The back of a hand over your forehead is cool to the touch, the night's breeze still pressed between the molecules.

"You're sick."

Thank you, intruder, for pointing out the obvious is what you want to say. But instead, your head lulls heavily to the side. "I just need to rest for a bit."

"You need a hospital."

"I'm fine. I'm just- being dramatic. But I'm fine."

Your world tips on its axis, warmth blooming into your side. He lifts you into his arms soundlessly. You almost envy how effortless it is for him; the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself.

It's only halfway towards his car that you find yourself processing, finally speaking, "Thank you, Sae."

There's a sharp intake of breath from him, the hard line of his body protecting you from the night's chilled-sweet air. His heartbeat against your ear is as steady as the shore, the way it waits for the kiss of the tide.

"Just call me next time."

~

Sae's not sure how he feels about this.

It's his first time being late when he's meant to be taking you to this event. He moves fast through the crowd, searches with keen eyes. Chandeliers flicker and crystal-light dances —

Only to find you propped up against the wall, Rin leaning down close.

Sae might be less confused if Rin didn't look — for what might be the first time at an event ever — like he actually wanted to be there. He's listening to you with all his attention, has no problem being in your space.

Sae only approaches once you've been whisked away by Bachira.

"Why were you talking to her?"

Rin whips around, and instead of looking guilty, he's in wide-eyed shock, and then narrow-eyed annoyance. "Ha? She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

Sae blinks. Did he say that? He would've remembered, wouldn't he?

"You good-for-nothing older brother," Rin's voice is a grunt, nothing like the sweetness he gave you. "You didn't even introduce me. I had to fucking find out through Isagi."

"How does Isagi know?"

"Oliver."

"How does Oliver know?"

Rin gives him an begrudged, deadpan look. "He's your teammate?"

That explains nothing. Actually, Sae is even more confused. He has about a dozen more questions.

"She's nice." Rin mumbles low, playing with the stem of his wine glass, watches as it almost tips before swooping it back up.

"You like her?"

"I think she's nice." Rin grits, and Sae really doesn't know how Rin gets away with faux passes on the field when his reactions are this obvious, because he watches how his eyes grow with realization as another thought passes through his brain. "You don't like her?"

"I like her." Sae accepts quickly.

"Ha??? Then what are you asking me for?!"

~

If Sae's being honest, he knows he has more than enough. He wonders what this thing is that he's had since he was born, never satiated even as he reaches the top. He thinks about how Bachira describes his 'monster', a childlike wonder, whether this is his own version of something like that.

But even the blackhole-depths of his greed doesn't anticipate wanting you. Like remembering the sea upon the drink of an oyster. A second breath, heart soaked with knowing.

What am I doing, sleeping in his bed? The night grows darker with every step, so the invite was innocuous enough. You sink into the mattress and the blanket of night muffles the fear, the thought that love is never so easy. There will be complications and contracts —

You turn to him and all the braveheart strength seeps out of you. Maybe you can put it down here, just for a moment.

He looks at you love-first, in a thousand colors, something he can't find with anyone else. He brushes the hair from your face so delicately, you find yourself stuck between watching his relaxed expression and fluttering your eyes shut to absorb the feeling. The back of his fingers caress your cheek, a butterfly's wing.

"Are you happy? Satisfied?"

Sae is not abstract. It's a vague but concrete question. You understand him at first glance.

"Not yet," you exhale honestly. "I have more to do. I'm gonna get there."

I'm gonna be the person I want to be. And by that time, I'll also be —

I'll also be the kind of girl you'd consider worth dating.

"Just wanna be worth it," you smile weakly instead.

He looks at you with a tenderness that feels dangerous. You think of a bird's first flight, the swoop of the fall. The crackle of a flame before it eats the firewood.

"People are worth something the moment they're born," he recites with no inflections.

"I know that."

"You're the one who said that." It's not accusatory, it's a reminder: your own truth, a perception of love you've been made the exception of. It's too heavy with degradation for him to feel comfortable focusing on, so instead he asks something he knows.

"If you had everything you want now, would it be enough?"

You sit up, his eyes following you. Your body heat no longer pressed against his feels like a loss, something he's sure to correct.

"No. You know that's not how it works." You should know, better than anyone.

He does know. That greed is a bottomless abyss, ambition an infinite sky. There is no amount of good enough that could ever make it all feel worth it.

His hand circles around your wrist, pulls you in on top of him until you're chest to chest.

Love is not your right. Shattered somethings cradle your heart. Trees can grow around items. You wonder if your heart is the same — muscle grown strong around fractured glass, a whisper of a cutting edge with every beat.

If you're always going to want more, be better, go further —

Could you have a little something in the now?

He's so close to you now that it fills your mind completely. He's not naked but he feels so bare under you, your hands framing his cheeks, soft skin brushing against your fingertips. One of his hands skates up your back, the other slides up your jaw, cups the back of your neck.

You wonder when you started letting him touch you like that.

He treats you so gently, so unlike the overwhelming emotion that crashes into you. Both lightweight and heavy, you feel swept under, you just want to anchor onto something —

His lips touch yours and everything falls into place.

~

"How'd you know about her?"

Oliver could make it easy for him. He won't, because getting a reaction out of Sae is much more fun. Instead, he tries and fails to feign ignorance. "Who?"

"My girlfriend."

Oliver leans his head back against the wall, a playful smile over his face. "So she is your girlfriend. Loyal too."

Sae narrows his eyes.

"Relax. I just talked to her at one of those events you brought her to."

"You talked to her?"

Oliver gets the sense that Sae is trying to make it sound like a normal question, but all it sounds is exactly how annoyed he feels.

"She just said she's waiting for you."

notes: unbelonging is not a word, i used it anyways on purpose to strengthen the idea of something not belonging. nectared and lightstream are also not real words, but i like them. twin wine glasses is kind of a reference to twin flames, though i do think you and sae are actually soulmates. i wonder if people can be both. "the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself" is a double meaning, not just your body weight but everything else you carry too.

call it what it is: / a love created, hand-sculpted to fit. / a silent reprieve, / to be seen, / constellations bursting at the seams. / unfounded heart, / a tepid start,/ an easy, soft-sweet thing. / say what this really is. / place it on the justice scales of the abyss. / what you're meant to be / versus what you choose / you can decide you have a right to this.

[sowerpatch]

terms of play [chapter 7 - in transition]

Summary: Azzi Fudd built the Golden Valkyries on a dare, but drafting Paige Bueckers was all strategy. Fresh off an NCAA title, Paige is everything the team needs—and everything Azzi shouldn’t want.

Officially, it’s all business. Unofficially, it’s glances that linger too long and touches that mean too much.

Author's note: this is an AU where Azzi owns the Golden State Valkyries and drafts Paige. Azzi's family are all original characters. Also, Azzi is three years older than Paige.

*CHAPTER LIST HERE*

Chapter Summary: Paige and Azzi said it was over.

Boundaries drawn, feelings shelved, rules in place. But with every game, every glance, every unexpected moment off the court, the line gets harder to hold. They agreed to stop, but how long can they mean it? Word count: 5,577 Author's note: first, I'd like to thank everyone for reading this fic. i'm overwhelmed but very happy with the comments, messages, and reactions. i didn't know a lot are reading this nonsense, but thank you! second (and you may not want to hear this), i may not update for a couple of weeks. i am going on a trip so i'm not sure i'll be able to do so. i hope you'll still want to read this if it's not frequently update until third week of july. third (if you're also reading my other on-going), unfolded will be updated but i also apologize it will not be that frequent due to the same reason above. thanks for supporting and reading my works.

Fudd Holdings, San Francisco. May 2025. 

The sky outside her windows had settled into its noon haze, but Azzi hadn’t looked up from her desk in hours. Her monitor cast a soft glow across the dark wood, spreadsheets opened and minimized in equal measure. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad, scrolling through a document she had already reviewed twice that morning. 

The knock on her door was brief. Nika stepped in without waiting for permission, balancing a takeout bag and two bottled teas in her hands. 

“I know you didn’t eat again,” Nika said as she shut the door behind her. “And I’m not letting you call a candy bar lunch.” 

Azzi sat back in her chair, one brow lifting. “You’re persistent.” 

“I work for a woman who hasn’t taken a real lunch break in ten days,” Nika replied, placing the food down. “Persistent is the bare minimum.” 

Azzi didn’t argue. She slid the papers to the side and reached for the tea, unscrewing the cap but not drinking yet. Across the desk, Nika opened the takeout containers with practiced ease. 

“How is your WNBA team?” Nika asked without looking up. “Season started last week.” 

Azzi didn’t flinch, though the pause before her answer was longer than usual. “Lisa’s handling things,” she said. “It’s her role as general manager, and she’s doing it well. I step in only if I'm needed.” 

Nika glanced up, reading more than what was said. “Good for her but that’s not the same as you supporting them.” 

“I’m busy.” 

“With what?” Nika didn’t soften her tone. “All deadlines are in. Contracts are locked through next quarter. We’re ahead of schedule with every major client. Even your advisory meeting next week was rescheduled by you.” 

Azzi set the tea down, untouched. 

“You’re not too busy to show your face at a home game, Azzi. And neither the team nor the city thinks you’re invisible. So if this is about being busy, I don’t buy it.” 

Azzi held her posture, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the window. But the pause spoke more than anything else. 

Nika watched her for another beat before easing back into her chair, unpacking a fork from its wrapper.  

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she said. “But don’t pretend like this is just scheduling. You’re not fooling anyone.” 

The room stretched between them, filled with paper, food, and the weight of everything unspoken. 

Azzi finally reached for the container, though she still hadn’t eaten a bite. Her voice stayed level, careful. “Lisa knows what she’s doing.” 

“Sure,” Nika said, spearing a piece of grilled chicken. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t still look for you.” 

-    Valkyries Headquarters, San Francisco. May 2025. 

Practice was nearly over, but Paige hadn’t slowed once. She moved through the drills like they were personal, like every missed shot meant something more than just another rep. Her jersey clung to her back, soaked through from the effort. While the rest of the team eased off, she kept pressing. 

“Okay, Paige, you trying to earn Finals MVP in practice?” Kate called, grabbing a towel from the bench. 

Paige gave a quick laugh. “Just keeping sharp.” 

Kiki, lounging near the sideline with her water bottle, chimed in without lifting her head. “If this is about Rookie of the Year, relax. I’m not trying to take it from you.” 

“I just want to do well. Don’t want to let the team down.” 

Kate tossed her towel over her shoulder and walked past. “You’re not. We’ve got your back. So maybe stop trying to bleed for every drill.” 

Paige nodded, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t even look toward the locker room when the others started filing out. She stayed at the three-point line, adjusted her stance, and kept shooting. 

The gym thinned out, noise fading as bodies left the floor. Lights still buzzed overhead. The sound of the ball hitting the rim echoed louder in the emptying space. 

One more shot. Then another. She moved like she could outwork the ache settling deep in her chest. 

- 

Barclays Center, Brooklyn. June 2025. 

The arena buzzed with rising energy. Lights swept across the court, catching on polished shoes and tailored jackets. Courtside filled with the usual rotation of executives, celebrities, and carefully groomed donors. 

Azzi sat quietly among them, legs crossed, her posture composed. Ines sat on one side, Tony on the other. Neither drew attention. 

Three nights earlier, New York liberty owner, Clara Wu had attended the foundation’s gallery fundraiser uptown.  

Toward the end of the event, in the space between polite farewells and final handshakes, Clara had asked if Azzi would be attending the Liberty vs Valkyries game. It hadn’t sounded like pressure, but Azzi understood the subtext. Clara rarely asked for anything directly. 

Azzi had smiled and said yes. She didn’t want to appear distant or detached, not while her team was in town, not so early in the season. By the next morning, Ines had secured the only tickets still available.  

Courtside, unfortunately. 

Across the floor, the Valkyries were already deep in warmups, moving through drills with controlled intensity.  

Paige stayed near the top of the arc, locked into rhythm, her eyes focused straight ahead. If she noticed Azzi’s presence, she didn’t show it.    The game had turned brutal in rhythm and pace.  

The Liberty held a five-point lead, and the crowd rode every possession like a wave, roaring with each defensive stop and every made shot. Bodies hit the floor more often now. Elbows flared. Timeouts were used sparingly. 

Paige moved with urgency. Her focus locked on the ball like nothing else existed. Sweat clung to her temples, her movements crisp and tight, no motion wasted.  

When a tipped pass ricocheted off a defender’s arm and spun wildly toward the sideline, she didn’t hesitate. 

She dove. 

The hardwood scraped beneath her as she slid forward, arms reaching, hands wrapping around the ball just before it could bounce out of bounds. But her momentum kept going. Her body skidded past the line, straight toward the courtside seats. 

She crashed at Azzi’s feet, shoulder brushing against her legs before she caught herself. 

“Shit—sorry,” Paige breathed, looking up. Her voice came low and rushed, all heat and adrenaline. 

Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, calm and unreadable. 

For a second, the noise in the arena blurred behind them. 

Then the whistle blew. Paige scrambled up, tossed the ball to a teammate, and jogged back onto the court. 

Azzi didn’t look away right away. The faint trace of contact lingered in her skin. But her face gave nothing back. 

-    Team bus on the way to the airport, New York. June 2025.  

The internet had caught fire. 

Clips of Paige diving out of bounds and crashing at Azzi’s feet spread across every platform.  

Slow-motion edits looped the way Paige looked up at her, the brief glance that passed between them, the stillness of Azzi’s expression.  

Screenshots froze the frame at just the right second, turning a routine hustle play into something cinematic. 

Fans called it poetic. Dramatic. Predictable in the way only stories you couldn’t write better in fiction tended to be. 

“This is gay history,”  

“She literally landed at her feet. You cannot make this shit up.” 

“It’s giving princess and her knight,” another caption declared beneath a still of Paige on the floor, Azzi seated above her, untouched, statuesque. 

#ValkyriesCourtship alongside #PrincessAndTheHooper trended before the fourth quarter highlights even aired. 

Even sports media picked it up. A panel segment ran on afternoon television, showing side-by-side clips with commentary that couldn’t resist the subtext.  

ESPN headlined it “better than anything on Netflix.” 

Paige had seen enough of it by the time she reached the team bus. Her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing, but she left it face down on the bench.  

Kiki had sent her the clip with three crying emojis and “Oscar-worthy fall.” 

Kate pulled up another edit as she sat beside Paige, this one layered with a ballad and a dramatic fade to black. 

“You good?” 

“It was just a save.” 

“Sure. You threw yourself at the sideline like a knight charging into battle and landed at Miss Fudd's feet like you meant to bow.” 

Paige adjusted her hoodie without answering. 

Behind them, Kiki laughed. 

“She’s blushing.” 

She didn’t turn around. If she was, she wasn’t giving them the satisfaction. 

- 

The Venetian Resort, Las Vegas. June 2025. 

Las Azzi stared at her calendar, one hand pressed to her temple, the other resting over her laptop’s trackpad. The confirmation email sat open in front of her, clear as day. 

She leaned back slowly in her chair, eyes narrowing. 

There was no way this wasn’t deliberate. 

The Valkyries were playing the Aces. In Las Vegas. Tonight. And somehow, despite the number of ways she had tried to avoid repeating last week’s coincidence, here she was again. Same city. Same schedule. Same team. 

She remembered Nika casually handing off the file three days ago. Something about a last-minute scheduling conflict, how the developers were pushing for face time, how it made sense for Azzi to take. At the time, it hadn’t sounded strange. 

Now it did.    Another email which held two tickets to the game had found its way to Azzi.    Right. 

It wouldn’t look good if she didn’t show up to the game. Not when people knew she was in the city. 

If Nika and Ines had planned this, they weren’t going to admit it. But Azzi knew them both too well.  

She should have seen this coming. 

- 

Michelob ULTRA Arena, Las Vegas. June 2025. 

The game was tight. The Aces pushed in transition, fast and aggressive, but the Valkyries kept pace, sharp in their switches and relentless on the glass. The score stayed close, every possession carrying weight. 

Azzi sat still through it all. Close enough to feel the vibrations under her heels. She didn’t react. Didn’t lean in. Just watched. 

Paige was everywhere. Fighting through screens, calling switches, sinking shots like she was burning through something no one else could see. She didn’t slow down. She didn’t ease up. 

When she hit a three just outside the arc, her eyes searched briefly beyond the baseline. 

Azzi met the look. 

The moment was brief. The game pressed forward.  

- 

The Venetian Resort, Las Vegas. June 2025. 

The machine clinked quietly as Paige pressed the button again. Lights blinked. Nothing hit. She reached into the cup and slid another coin in. 

The Valkyries had pulled off the win. A tight, scrappy six-point finish that left the Aces frustrated and the bench breathing hard. 

Paige had smiled when she needed to. Nodded during the interviews. Let her teammates pull her into the photo. But once it was done, she slipped out early and didn’t look back. 

She found herself now hunched at a forgotten corner of the casino floor, staring through the slot machine like it owed her an answer she couldn't phrase. 

A pause behind her, then Azzi’s voice. 

“You know I’m not paying you to lose your money on a stupid machine.”    Paige slid in another coin and pressed the button, not bothering to turn around. The reels spun and missed again. 

“I know you’re ignoring me,” Azzi continued. “And I deserve that. But I wanted to say congratulations. You were great tonight.” 

Paige’s eyes stayed on the machine. “Hm, ‘s that all?”     Azzi wanted to say more. To sit down, to explain, to ask for something she hadn’t figured out how to name yet. 

She stood there for a moment, unsure if she should say more or walk away. The noise around them was constant—machines whirring, voices rising and falling, the usual chaos of a casino floor. It wasn’t the right place for this type of conversation.    “Yes. Have a good night, Paige.” 

Azzi moved through the casino without looking back, weaving past clusters of tourists and cocktail servers until she reached the elevators.  

One had just arrived. She stepped inside, pressed her floor, and leaned back against the wall as the doors began to close. 

A hand shot through at the last second. 

The doors jerked open. 

Paige stood there, a little breathless, eyes steady. She stepped in without asking and let the doors slide shut behind her. 

“D'you already have dinner?” 

Azzi shook her head. 

Paige glanced at the buttons, then back at her. 

“Wanna order room service with me?”    - 

The coffee table was a mess of wrappers and half-crumpled napkins. Paige leaned back into the couch, one leg tucked under the other, working through the last of the fries like it was a timed competition. 

Azzi watched from the armchair, equal parts fascinated and horrified.  

She had offered a quiet space for their impromptu dinner since Kiki was already asleep in Paige's room. 

Paige had inhaled three burgers in under fifteen minutes and was now making quick work of the fries without so much as a breath. 

Azzi reached for her untouched sandwich, glanced at it, then looked back at Paige. 

“Do you want mine too?” 

Paige didn’t even pause. “What is it?” 

“That was sarcasm.” 

“You’re gonna need to be more specific if food’s involved.” 

Azzi shook her head, sinking deeper into the chair. “I’m genuinely alarmed.” 

“You’ve seen me play,” Paige said through a mouthful of fries. “How is this surprising?” 

“You didn’t unhinge your jaw during the game.” 

Paige grinned, tossed a fry in the air, and caught it with her mouth.  

Azzi sighed and reached for the water bottle on the table but didn’t drink. Her gaze lingered on Paige, still working through the fries like nothing in the world could distract her. 

“You’ve been playing really well lately,” she said. “The last few games especially.” 

Paige slowed her chewing just a little. “Oh.” 

Azzi smiled. 

“I mean, thanks. I didn’t know you were watching.” 

There was a pause. Azzi could have let it pass, could have deflected or changed the subject, but the quiet between them felt too close to something real to lie through. 

“I haven’t missed a game,” she said. “Even if I’m not there, I watch. Every one of them.” 

Paige blinked, then looked down, a trace of pink blooming along her cheeks as she reached for another fry she clearly didn’t need. 

Sitting with her hands loosely clasped in her lap, Azzi’s eyes fixed on the untouched sandwich beside her. The weight between them had been there the whole night, carefully unspoken, but now it pressed harder, closer.    “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For what happened. For how it happened. It wasn’t fair to you. If I could take it back... I would.” 

Paige didn’t answer right away. She wiped her hands clean with a napkin, taking her time, then leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. 

“I don’t regret kissing and making out with you that night,” she said.  

Azzi finally looked at her. 

“I only regret putting you in a position. You were already carrying too much, and I pushed you when I should’ve backed off. That’s on me.” Her voice dropped. “I’m sorry for that.” 

Azzi shook her head slowly, the words already forming before Paige could say anything more. “No. Paige, I was the one who kissed you.” 

“And I kissed you back.” 

Azzi looked away, lips pressed together for a moment before she spoke again. 

“I let my emotions get the best of me. That night... I wasn’t thinking clearly.” 

“That’s exactly my regret,” Paige leaned back slightly, eyes holding firm. “I didn’t stop to think what you were going through. I shouldn’t have let it go that far when I knew you weren’t steady.”    She stood up abruptly. “God! Azzi, you just had to deal with your brother that night and all I could think was myself and my stupid ego.”    Azzi’s brow lifted, disbelief flickering across her face. 

“You’ve really been carrying this like it’s on you?” 

"Well...” 

Azzi motioned to the couch. “Sit down.” 

Paige hesitated but did as she was told, settling into the cushion with a quiet breath. 

“Listen,” Azzi started, her tone even but not cold. “I don’t know why you’re blaming yourself, but don’t. And if it makes you feel better, I appreciate your thoughts about me. It’s been a long time since anyone’s cared enough to think about what I’m feeling.” 

She paused, eyes fixed forward. 

“But I’m not going to lie. We’re re-opening something we shouldn’t cross again.” 

Paige sat still, her body tight, listening. 

“We started on the wrong path, Paige. And if we keep walking it, it’s going to lead both of us somewhere we won’t come back from. Whatever this was, we can’t keep going. There’s too much at stake. Not just for me. For you too.” 

Paige kept her gaze on the floor, jaw tight. The words weren’t new. Not really. She had imagined this conversation too many times—Azzi choosing control over closeness, reason over feeling. But now that it was happening, the actual weight of it pressed in deeper than she expected. 

She had been holding on to guilt, turning it over in her head like a stone she thought she could smooth down if she just kept at it long enough. But hearing Azzi say it out loud, the finality of her tone, made it clear that nothing she’d been carrying would change the ending. 

Still, it stung. 

It stung to be told they had started on the wrong path when it had been the only one that felt right. 

She nodded slowly, barely. 

“Okay,” she said, though it didn’t feel like one. 

- 

Valkyries HQ, San Francisco. May 2025. 

The Valkyries were rolling. Eleven wins, three losses. The best start of any expansion team in league history. Their chemistry was sharp, execution cleaner with every game, and the league had started paying attention. 

Paige was a headline regular now. Her stats held weight, her plays made highlight reels, and the noise around her name had shifted from hopeful to certain. Rookie of the Year wasn’t just possible—it was probable. 

All-Star voting opened with her name already at the top of the ballots. 

She felt it, the momentum. The lift of it. Practices ran smoother, her body felt lighter, even the travel days didn’t drag. 

But that talk in Las Vegas hadn’t left her. 

Azzi hadn’t shown up to a game since. Not once. Not even for the home stands. 

The gym had emptied out over an hour ago, but Paige was still there, catching her own rebounds, the steady rhythm of the ball echoing through the quiet space. Her body moved on instinct—one dribble, two, rise, release. Net. Repeat. 

She wasn’t tired. Not enough to stop. 

The sound of the door clicking open didn’t pull her attention right away. Only when footsteps drew closer did she finally glance toward the baseline. 

Azzi stood just inside, arms crossed, the faintest trace of something amused in her voice. 

“Practice ended a while ago. If you’re staying this long, I should start charging you gym maintenance.” 

Paige caught the ball and held it. Her breathing slowed as she turned to face the person living rent free in her head for the past couple of months. 

She let the ball rest against her hip, then spun it slowly in one hand. 

“I don’t want to slack,” she said. “We’re on a five-game win streak. Last thing I need is my boss getting mad I’m not putting it all out there.” 

She looked up, a flicker of something teasing behind her eyes. 

“Last I heard, she never misses watching our games.” 

Azzi scoffed, stepping forward without hesitation. She plucked the ball from Paige’s hand like it belonged to her.    “You really think flattery’s going to make me overlook the fact that you’re hogging the gym?” 

Paige grinned and walked backward toward the free throw line, holding out her hand, shrugging. “If I said I was staying late to honor the legacy of the franchise, would that make it better?” 

Azzi turned the ball slowly in her hands. “It might make it worse.” 

Paige laughed, stepping back with a bounce in her step. “I’m just trying to keep the lights on. You know, making sure your multi-million dollar floor space stays in good use.” 

“I should charge you rent.” 

“Add it to my contract,” Paige said, motioning toward the court. “Tell you what. You make one shot, I’ll clear out.” 

Azzi tilted her head. “You think I’m just going to embarrass myself for your amusement?” 

“I think you’re dying to see if you can make one,” Paige said, voice low and teasing. “Come on. You’re standing on the floor of your own team’s gym, and you’ve never even taken a shot?” 

Azzi stared at her for a long second, then shook her head and let out a sigh. 

“You’re relentless.” 

Paige grinned and walked toward the free throw line, tossing the ball up and catching it. “One shot. I promise I won’t tell the world. Unless it’s perfect.” 

Azzi followed her slowly, arms folded. 

“This is ridiculous.” 

“This is team bonding.” 

“You’re not my team.” 

“I’m your headache. Close enough.” 

Azzi let out a breath, finally taking the ball back. “Fine. But I’m blaming you when this ruins my reputation.” 

Paige stepped in, already adjusting her grip. “If anything, this is gonna make it better.”    Azzi stared at the hoop like it was challenging her. She adjusted her grip on the ball, stepped awkwardly toward the free throw line, and squared her shoulders like she had watched athletes do a hundred times from the sidelines. 

She launched. 

It left her fingers too flat, spinning awkwardly in the air before clanking off the front rim and bouncing back with a dull thud. 

Paige bit her lip, then broke into a jog to chase it down before it rolled out of bounds. 

“That was…” She paused, dribbling the ball once. “A very brave attempt.” 

Azzi crossed her arms, unimpressed. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it.” 

“I’m not.” Paige grinned. “I’m saying you’re clearly an expert at hitting the exact part of the rim that guarantees it won’t go in.” 

She walked the ball back, but instead of handing it over, she stopped in front of Azzi and held it with one hand. Her voice dropped, softer this time, and something in her face shifted. 

“Let me show you.” 

Azzi hesitated, watching her closely. There was no mocking now. Paige’s grin had settled into something quieter. Not serious, but careful. Like she was trying not to move too quickly through a moment that meant more than it should. 

She nodded once. 

Paige stepped closer, placing the ball in Azzi’s hands again, but this time kept hers there too. She adjusted Azzi’s grip gently, her thumbs brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. 

“Right here. Let your shooting hand sit under the ball. Other hand just helps guide it.” 

Azzi didn’t look at the hoop. She looked at Paige. Their hands were tangled around the ball, Paige’s fingers warm and steady. Close enough to feel her breath when she spoke again. 

“You don’t need to force it. Let it roll off your fingers. It’s about rhythm. Trust.” 

Azzi swallowed hard. 

“Trust the shot?” 

Paige’s eyes met hers. “Trust yourself.” 

The gym felt too quiet. Just the creak of sneakers on polished wood and the low hum of lights above. Paige stepped behind her, setting her palms lightly on Azzi’s elbows, guiding them into position. 

“Bend your knees a little. Keep your elbow under the ball.” 

Azzi followed. The motion was stiff, but she listened. 

Paige leaned in, voice at her ear. “Now lift it slow. Let it go at the top.” 

Azzi raised her arms and released. The ball floated, not perfect, but cleaner. It hit the backboard and bounced toward the rim before falling away. 

Better. 

Azzi turned to look at her, something flickering in her eyes. Not frustration. Something else. A heat she didn’t name. 

“That was almost good,” Paige said. 

“Almost?” 

“I think you need another lesson.” 

-    Paige’s apartment, Oakland. June 2025.  

The apartment was dark except for the soft glow of Paige’s phone. She was sprawled on the couch, one leg tucked under her, the other stretched toward the armrest. Her hair was damp from a shower, and there was a half-finished protein shake on the coffee table. 

Her thumbs tapped quickly. 

Paige: You looked good last night.  Paige: But I still think your hair looked better during draft night. 

She attached a photo. 

It was Azzi, polished and poised, walking into a real estate conference. Hair pulled back in a sleek twist, dressed in a charcoal pantsuit that made her look every inch the power executive Twitter loved to obsess over. 

Azzi: Where did you get this? 

Paige answered before the read receipt even registered. 

Paige: Internet. You’re famous, remember? 

Azzi exhaled through her nose, typing slowly. 

Azzi: Are you stalking me now? 

Paige: Maybe.  Paige: Just enough to form an opinion about your hairstyles. 

Azzi: And here I thought you were too busy chasing Rookie of the Year. 

Paige: I multitask. 

Azzi sat up straighter in bed, the corners of her mouth betraying the start of a smile. 

Azzi: You really liked my hair that night? 

Paige: I like a lot of things when it comes to you.  Paige: Want a list? 

Azzi hesitated.  

Azzi: I’m scared of that list. 

Paige: You should be. It’s long. 

Azzi: Paige. 

Paige: Azzi. 

Azzi: I thought we weren’t doing this. 

Paige: You texted back.  Paige: So maybe you’re doing it too. 

There was a pause. Paige watched the typing bubble appear and disappear three times. Then finally: 

Azzi: Goodnight, Paige. 

Paige stared at it. Then sent one more message without thinking. 

Paige: I still like your hair better down. 

She set her phone down beside her, the softest grin tugging at her mouth as she leaned back into the couch. 

While Azzi lay still in the dark, phone on her chest, heartbeat louder than it should be. She didn’t reply again. But she didn’t stop reading it either. 

-  

Rocco's Cafe, San Francisco. June 2025. 

The clink of glass against ceramic filled the space between them. Afternoon light poured through the tall windows of the restaurant, the kind of place Nika always picked—unassuming, elegant, with an outdoor view that cost more than it looked. Azzi sat across from her, shoulders relaxed, her phone turned face down for once. 

Nika stirred her espresso, eyes flicking to the plate Azzi had barely touched. 

“Westlake signed,” she said. “The rezoning permits came in yesterday.” 

Azzi nodded, lifting her glass. “Good. I want the contractors briefed by Friday. We’ll reroute phase three if they can’t break ground in time.” 

“They will.” Nika took a sip, then leaned back in her chair. “What about the Dallas project? Still holding?” 

Azzi glanced past her toward the window. “We’re waiting on final numbers. But I’m not rushing that one. The board will push if I give them a reason.” 

A beat passed, comfortable and slow. Nika tilted her head, her voice quieter. 

“How are you?” 

“I’m fine?” 

“You’re more than fine.” 

Azzi looked at her confused. 

Nika smiled, sharp but kind. “You’ve been smiling. Laughing. You even left the office before seven last week.” 

Azzi raised an eyebrow, daring Nika to continue. 

“You’re glowing.” 

She shook her head, but her mouth twitched like it wanted to smile. 

“And forgive me, but I have a feeling Jake’s not the reason.”  

Nika lifted her cup with a knowing tilt, like she was letting Azzi keep her secret while quietly reminding her it wasn’t all that well hidden. 

-  San Francisco International Airport, San Francisco. June 2025. 

Azzi reread the message from the Valkyries’ training staff, the words sharp in their precision.  

Concussion protocol.  

Paige had been pulled from practice following a hit during the game against Indiana two nights ago. 

Azzi had watched that game from a bar in Dallas, her tablet propped up between half-finished cocktails and development briefs. The meeting with local contractors had stretched past dinner.  

Her flight home today was late and quiet, and somewhere over the Rockies, exhaustion claimed her. 

The message hadn’t registered until she was standing outside Terminal 2, luggage beside her, the San Francisco air cutting through her blazer. She scrolled absently while waiting for the car. 

Another text sat beneath the first.  

Let us know if you’d like to see the medical report. 

She didn’t reply right away. Headlights pulled up. The town car stopped cleanly at the curb. 

She typed her reply. 

Not necessary. 

Tony stepped out, moved to the trunk. Azzi got in without a word. The door closed with a soft click, and the city hummed low around them. 

She stared straight ahead.    Thinking.    More thinking.    “Tony, we’re making a detour.” 

-    Paige’s apartment, Oakland. June 2025. 

Paige blinked, hard, like it would help make sense of the shape in front of her. 

Azzi stood at the doorway, calm as ever, hair tucked neatly behind one ear, as if she belonged there. She hadn’t called. Hadn’t messaged. 

And now Azzi was stepping inside like she hadn’t just knocked a minute ago, like being let in meant she belonged there. 

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You know, knocking doesn’t mean you get to just walk in like it’s your office.” 

Azzi took two more steps in, ignoring the comment entirely. 

“You’re in concussion protocol,” she said. “I got the update this morning.” 

“I—what? Wait, how do you even—” Paige closed the door slowly. “You’re not even on the medical distribution list.” 

“I don’t need to be.” 

“Okay. Cool. Great. Love the vague billionaire surveillance energy,” Paige muttered. “That’s definitely what every injured rookie wants.” 

Azzi raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “I didn’t hack into anything, if that’s what you’re implying.” 

Paige snorted. “You didn’t have to. One look from you and half the staff probably tripped over themselves to send an update.” 

“I asked, they answered.” 

“Right. Because that’s totally normal. Just your average team owner flying across the country to check on a player with a bump to the head.” 

“I’m not your average team owner,” Azzi’s gaze didn’t waver. “And it wasn’t just a bump.” 

Paige’s breath hitched before she could hide it.  

She tried to mask it with sarcasm. “So what now? Are you here to run your own tests? Gonna flash a penlight in my eyes, ask me who the president is?” 

"Would you answer if I did?” 

“Depends,” Paige said, voice lower now. “Are you gonna tell me why you really came?” 

Azzi didn’t look away. “Does it matter?” 

“It does if you want to keep pretending this is just about basketball.” 

“Paige.”    “Azzi.” 

Azzi exhaled, slow and tired. “I was worried.” 

Paige stepped closer, the tension in her shoulders softening as she reached out and cupped Azzi’s face with both hands. 

“I’m fine,” she said gently. “You don’t have to worry.” 

Azzi didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed on Paige, and before she realized it, she was leaning into the warmth of that touch, drawn by something quieter than reason. 

Paige moved in without rushing, her hands sliding down until they rested on Azzi’s waist. She pulled her in, carefully, like she didn’t want to spook her. Their bodies met in a slow, steady hold. 

Azzi let herself be held. 

“Didn’t we agree we need to stop this?” Azzi’s voice was soft, but the weight behind it settled between them. 

"I only agreed half-heartedly.” 

Azzi rolled her eyes and gave her a light smack on the arm. Paige caught her wrist before she could pull away, grinning. 

“Let’s just have this night, please.” Paige said, voice lowered to something more honest. “We don’t have to do anything. I miss you.” 

There was a pause, then a quiet mumble from Azzi. “I miss you too.” 

Paige wrapped her in a hug, slow but firm, the kind that said more than words could carry. She held Azzi tightly, grounding herself in the contact, in the relief of having her this close again. 

“How was your flight?” she asked after a moment, still not letting go. 

Azzi answered once they finally pulled back, their fingers laced. “Long. Delayed twice. I hated every second.” 

“Stay the night,” Paige said without thinking. 

Azzi blinked. Her body stilled. “Paige—” 

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Paige added quickly. “We both need rest. That’s all. Just... don’t leave.” 

Azzi hesitated for only a beat, then reached for her phone. She typed out a message to Tony to go home without her. 

Paige disappeared for a moment and came back with a folded UConn sweatshirt and matching joggers. “You’ll look better in these than I ever did.” 

Azzi gave her a look, took the clothes, and changed in the bathroom. When she emerged, the room was dim, Paige already under the covers. 

She climbed in, the air between them thick with hesitation. They left a small space between their bodies, but not for long. 

“Come here, ma,” Paige said, voice almost teasing. 

Azzi didn’t bother pretending. She folded into Paige’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. 

“I’m only doing this because of your concussion protocol,” she murmured. 

Paige laughed, the sound low and grateful. “If it means I get to have you like this, I’ll bang my head every day.” 

Azzi let out a quiet laugh of her own, her breath brushing against Paige’s neck. 

Paige pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for coming. And for checking on me.”    “We’re so bad at stopping this.” 

[nocturnebite]

Someone Like You ౨ৎ

(Its always been you) - bestfriend!enha (ot7) x fem!reader

synopsis: You’ve had enough of bad dates and bare-minimum effort. But when your best friend shows up for you in their own soft, thoughtful way… you start to wonder why you’ve never looked at them like that. Turns out, they’ve been waiting for you to. fic notes: friends to lovers || comfort & fluff || soft confessions || bad date recovery || dreamy slowburn mutual pining || emotional support kings wc: about 800ish per member (5.7k total)

ash's notes: heyy back again! this one was so fun for me to write, i'm a sucker for friends to lovers troupes.. especially when it's "they knew all along". get me a man like this PLEASE.. enjoy :3

౨ৎ Heeseung - You always know

The door clicks softly behind you as you slump inside your apartment, heels dangling from your hand, mascara slightly smudged from the stress of the night. Another date gone wrong. Another charming-on-text loser who spent more time talking about himself than asking a single question about you. At one point he even took a call at the table. You’d sat there swirling a straw in a watered-down drink, wishing you were literally anywhere else.

You drop your bag by the couch and sigh into the quiet. It hums back at you with the same kind of hollow loneliness you’ve gotten too used to.

Your fingers tap against your phone screen before you even think about it.

you: had another trash date lol sorry if im bothering u just rly bummed out

You don’t expect a reply right away. But before you can even toss your phone aside, it buzzes.

hee ౨ৎ: open the door

You blink. Then look up.

Another buzz.

hee ౨ৎ: i was already on my way. figured something was up

Heart hiccuping, you shuffle to the door, unlocking it slowly—and there he is. Hoodie half-zipped, hair tousled like he just left in a hurry, one hand clutching your favorite takeout and the other carrying a fuzzy blanket you've been trying to steal from him for weeks.

“I didn’t know if you’d eaten,” Heeseung says, stepping inside like he always belongs here. He doesn't wait for an answer, just sets everything down on the coffee table and opens his arms.

You melt.

Your face tucks into the curve of his neck like it’s muscle memory. He’s warm and steady and smells like laundry detergent and vanilla and home.

You mumble, “You really were already on your way?”

“Mmhm,” he hums against your hair. “Just had a feeling.”

You don’t even question it. He always knows.

You eat curled up on opposite ends of the couch, his long legs tangled with yours under the blanket. He doesn’t ask about the date. He doesn’t need to. He just listens while you vent, eyes soft, gaze focused on you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Eventually, you’re lying with your head in his lap while he scrolls through movies on the TV.

“Something comforting,” he murmurs, already queuing up your favorite. “The one with the sad girl who finds herself and the cottage with the vines—”

“That’s a romance,” you whisper, half-laughing.

Heeseung just smirks. “Exactly.”

As the movie plays, you watch him in the flickering light — the soft shadows against his jawline, the slight smile when a familiar line hits, the way he rests his hand gently over your arm like he wants to keep you tethered here with him.

And somewhere between your chest aching and your heart warming, it slips out.

“Why can’t the guys I date be more like you…”

Heeseung flinches.

The remote fumbles in his hand and clatters to the ground with a sharp clack.

Your eyes widen. He stiffens. “Oops—uh. Sorry.” He leans down too fast to grab it, smacking his head lightly on the table and cursing under his breath.

You blink at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just—clumsy.” He clears his throat, setting the remote back carefully like it might explode again. His ears are glowing pink.

You stare at him, heart thudding.

He doesn’t look at you. Just leans back against the couch and mutters, “Want me to rewind the movie?”

You pause. “No. I’m good.”

He nods, quiet.

But the atmosphere has changed. Charged. He’s still close, still comforting, but his posture’s too stiff now, too careful, like he’s thinking too hard about breathing near you.

Later, when the movie ends and you both sit in the hush of the credits, you speak again.

“I just…” you whisper, watching the glow from the screen reflect in his eyes. “I wish I could find someone who treats me like you do. You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Heeseung freezes.

Then turns to you slowly, expression unreadable. His voice is low.

“Then why don’t you date me?”

You laugh, confused. “What—”

“I’m serious.”

You blink.

His eyes are locked on yours. No teasing. No smirk. Just honest, vulnerable silence.

“You’re serious?” you whisper.

He nods once. “I’ve always known it was you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. And then—flutters.

His fingers inch toward yours, tentative, until they’re brushing lightly, and when you don’t pull away, he laces them together.

“I didn’t think…” You breathe out. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“I do.” Heeseung smiles softly, then leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I have. Every time I showed up for you, every night I stayed over just to keep you company, every moment I wished you’d look at me like that…”

You do now.

And this time, when he leans in — slow, careful, trembling with hope — you meet him halfway.

౨ৎ Jay - The way you look at me

You’re already in tears by the time you leave the restaurant.

Not the dramatic, mascara-running kind. Just the quiet, aching kind — the ones that slip out even when you don’t want them to. This one stung a little more than usual. The guy didn’t just talk over you — he insulted your interests, made snide jokes about “emotional girls,” and scoffed when you said you wanted something real. It left you wondering if you were asking for too much.

You don’t text Jay.

You don’t have to.

The second your key turns in the door, the smell hits you — warm, comforting, something buttery and spiced — like childhood and safety all rolled into one.

You step inside and blink.

Jay stands in your kitchen in a dark t-shirt, sleeves pushed to his elbows, a striped apron tied lazily around his waist. He looks up like he’s been caught red-handed.

“I was gonna text and say come over,” you mumble.

“I figured you’d need something sooner,” he says simply, stirring the pan once before lowering the heat. “So I let myself in.”

Your chest tightens.

There’s a pot on the stove, steam rising lazily from it. A pan of something golden browning beside it. Plates already set. A candle burning low.

“You made—” Your voice cracks. “You made the pasta?”

“The one you said reminds you of your mom’s.” He shrugs, trying to seem casual. “You sounded tired last time we talked. Thought you’d need it tonight.”

Your throat feels too full to respond. You cross the kitchen slowly, eyes burning in that way that says thank you without the words.

He glances at you. “You okay?”

You nod.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head, stepping behind him, letting your arms wrap around his middle as you press your face into his back. He stills, surprised—but only for a moment. Then one of his hands reaches down to cover yours.

“You’re not asking for too much,” he says softly, like he’s already guessed the thing you didn’t say.

You don’t speak. You just hold on tighter.

Dinner is quiet, the way it always is when you’re feeling raw and Jay is being careful with you — soft glances, gentle hands when he passes the parmesan, a million unspoken things in every motion. Afterward, he makes tea and sets up the couch for a movie night without asking.

“You pick,” he says, stretching across the cushions to pass you the remote.

You curl under the throw blanket and sigh, not even looking at the screen.

Jay turns his head toward you. “Wanna do nothing instead?”

You nod.

So you sit. Shoulder to shoulder. Familiar and close and quiet.

After a while, he gets up and starts tidying the kitchen. And that’s when you catch yourself watching.

The way he moves—careful, confident, focused. The way he takes his time with everything. The soft hum in his throat as he dries dishes. The way he set aside the last bite of garlic bread because he knew it was your favorite.

And suddenly, something slips out.

“I wish the guys I went out on dates with were more like.. you.”

The sound of ceramic shattering on tile cuts the air in half.

You jump.

Jay freezes mid-motion, staring down at the cracked plate on the floor like it betrayed him. “Shit—sorry.” He crouches quickly to clean it, not looking at you.

You rush to help. “It’s okay, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s—” He’s already sweeping the pieces into his hand, face turned so you can’t see it. “It’s fine.”

But his hands are trembling.

You blink. “Jay?”

He doesn’t answer.

You touch his wrist lightly. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He finally looks at you, and it’s like the air has changed again — his expression unreadable, jaw tight, eyes searching yours for something you don’t quite understand.

You try to laugh it off, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, that was kind of a weird thing to say.”

Jay finishes sweeping and stands slowly, leaning against the counter like he needs a second to think.

Then you say it again, more quietly. “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

He lets out a breath — sharp, disbelieving.

“Don’t say that,” he murmurs.

You blink. “Why not?”

“Because…” He looks at you like you’ve cracked something in him. “I’ve been trying so hard not to say it first.”

The silence that follows is thick.

You stare. “Say what?”

Jay steps toward you, then stops — unsure, unreadable.

“That I’m in love with you,” he says quietly. “That I’ve been in love with you. That every time you cry about some guy who couldn’t see how lucky he was, it kills me because I’m right here. And I’ve been here.”

Your lips part, but you can’t speak.

He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wild and warm and terrified. “I know you weren’t ready. And I never wanted to make you feel like you had to see me that way, but tonight—” His voice softens. “Tonight you looked at me like you finally saw what I’ve been trying to show you this whole time.”

Your heart thunders.

You had looked at him that way. You’d always admired him — his calm, his kindness, the fire in him that always warmed you up when you felt too cold. You just never thought…

“I didn’t think you’d want me,” you whisper.

Jay’s breath catches. “I’ve always wanted you.”

He takes another step.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to lose you. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more than this.”

You look at him—really look at him—and all the times he showed up for you play in your mind like flashes of sunlight.

Slowly, you take his hand. It’s still a little shaky, but when you hold on, he steadies.

You whisper, “What if I want more too?”

He doesn’t speak. He just pulls you in and kisses your forehead, gently, reverently—like he’s waited a lifetime for this moment to finally arrive.

౨ৎ Jake - Never not you

It starts with your phone vibrating on your chest, just as your eyes are starting to sting from holding back tears too long.

You don’t check the screen. You don’t want to talk to anyone. You just stare at the ceiling of your bedroom, replaying the disaster of tonight’s date — the awkward silences, the backhanded compliments, the fake polite goodbye at the end. All you wanted was someone who’d make you feel seen. Instead, you feel lonelier than before.

Another buzz.

Then another.

Then a knock at your door.

You sit up, confused, wiping your eyes.

“Delivery?” you mumble, shuffling to open it.

But it’s not food.

It’s Jake.

He’s standing there, hair a little windblown, hoodie zipped up halfway and cheeks pink from the chill. In one hand, he’s holding a small bouquet of fresh wildflowers. In the other, a bag from your favorite bakery—the one that’s only open late on Fridays.

“I was already on my way,” he says softly. “Something told me you needed me.”

Your bottom lip wobbles.

You don’t cry, but you do fold into him the second he opens his arms.

He doesn’t say anything. Just hugs you so tight it’s like he’s holding together all the parts of you that want to fall apart.

Twenty minutes later, you’re in your pajamas under a mountain of blankets on the couch. The warm scent of baked pastries fills the air. Jake’s got your feet in his lap, his thumbs gently massaging the arch like he’s trying to erase all the tension of the night.

You’re both watching one of those cheesy rom-coms he secretly loves more than you do, though he always pretends otherwise.

“Tonight sucked,” you mutter.

He doesn’t ask for details. He just leans back, still holding your feet. “He didn’t see you, did he?”

You glance at him. “How do you always know?”

Jake shrugs one shoulder. “Because if he had, you’d be smiling. You always light up when someone gets you.”

Your breath catches. You don’t respond. You just look at him.

His profile is soft in the glow of the TV. There’s a slight crease in his brow, like he’s still worried. You want to reach out and smooth it with your thumb.

Instead, you say quietly, “Why can’t guys be more like you…”

Jake stills.

His eyes don’t leave the screen, but his fingers stop moving.

You sit up a little, trying to meet his eyes. “Seriously. You’re so thoughtful. You always know what I need. You never make me feel like I’m too much or not enough—”

Jake suddenly fumbles the pastry bag in his lap and spills the last croissant right onto the floor.

“Ah..shit—sorry,” he blurts, scrambling to grab it. He drops the tongs trying to pick it up.

You blink. “You okay?”

“Fine!” he squeaks. Then clears his throat and tries to play it off. “Yeah. Just… butter fingers.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He nods a little too quickly. “Totally. I just… wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

You tilt your head. “Say what?”

He carefully places the rescued croissant on a napkin, still not looking at you. “That you wish guys were like me.”

Your voice softens. “Well… I do.”

The silence stretches, almost like the room’s holding its breath with you.

And then, because the ache in your chest is too much to sit with, you add, “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Jake turns to you, eyes wide.

He looks like you just told him the moon said his name.

Then, very quietly, he says, “Then… why not me?”

Your heart skips.

You blink. “Wait..what..? Are you serious?”

He nods, slowly this time. The corners of his mouth twitch up—hopeful, nervous, a little amazed you haven’t laughed him off yet.

“I know we’ve been best friends forever,” he says gently, “but I’ve loved you for almost as long. I didn’t want to ruin what we had by saying anything. But it’s you. It’s never not been you.”

Your lips part. “Jake…”

“I didn’t want to be another guy who hurt you,” he whispers, voice shaking a little. “I wanted to be the one who reminded you how loved you are. I just never thought you’d actually—feel the same.”

You swallow hard.

Your chest is doing that tight fluttery thing again. Because you do. Deep down, you’ve always known it. The way you’d light up when his name appeared on your phone. The way his laugh made everything easier. The way you looked for him in every crowd.

You whisper, “I think I’ve always wanted it to be you.”

Jake beams.

Not a smirk. Not a flirty grin. A full, radiant, stunned smile like you’ve just made his entire year.

He reaches for your hand, then changes his mind and gently cups your cheek instead, brushing his thumb just under your eye.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly, breathlessly.

You nod.

And when he leans in, it’s slow and sweet and full of every unspoken thing you’ve both carried for so long. And when he pulls back just barely, lips still brushing yours, he murmurs,

“You’re my favorite everything.”

౨ৎ Sunghoon - Say something

It’s late.

The kind of late where the streets outside are quiet and your bedroom ceiling is glowing dimly with the light of passing cars. You’re curled up under a blanket in your hoodie, trying not to cry but very much failing. Again.

The guy from tonight wasn’t mean, exactly. Just… indifferent. He scrolled through his phone when you talked. Showed up twenty minutes late with no explanation. Didn’t even pretend to walk you home.

And maybe it wouldn’t sting so much if it didn’t feel like a pattern.

You don’t text anyone. You just throw your phone facedown and try to forget it.

Until, barely five minutes later, there’s a knock at your window.

You freeze.

Another knock.

You scramble out of bed and yank the curtains aside — and there he is.

Sunghoon. In his gray zip-up and a beanie pulled low over his brows, standing on your fire escape holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate and a very unimpressed expression.

You open the window with wide eyes. “What the—Hoon??”

“I figured he’d flake,” he says flatly, climbing in like this is something he does every day. “You ghosted the group chat. That’s never a good sign.”

You blink as he hands you one of the cups.

“I made it with that fancy cocoa you like,” he mumbles. “With the cinnamon.”

You stare at him.

Sunghoon doesn't meet your eyes. He just kicks off his shoes and settles onto your bed like it’s his.

“I didn’t get ghosted,” you say quietly, sitting beside him.

He nods. “But you are sad.”

You sip the cocoa. “How do you always know?”

He shrugs. “You always blink a lot when you’re trying not to cry.”

Your throat tightens.

Silence passes for a bit. Your room is dim, your fairy lights casting soft little shadows across his jawline. You watch him — the way his hands cradle the mug, the furrow in his brows even now. He’s always like this. A little standoffish. A little too observant. And yet always there the second you fall apart.

And maybe it’s the warmth in your hands, or the fact that you’re so, so tired of being disappointed — but the words come out before you can stop them.

“Why can’t guys be more like you…”

He freezes.

Like actually freezes.

No blink. No breath. Just wide, stunned deer-in-headlights stillness.

Then he promptly chokes on his hot chocolate.

You lunge to pat his back. “Hoon??”

“I’m good—” cough cough “Totally fine—” cough “Jesus—”

You bite back a laugh. “You don’t look fine.”

“I’m great.” He clears his throat aggressively and looks everywhere but at you. “Just… went down the wrong pipe.”

“Mmhmm,” you say, clearly not buying it.

He shifts on the bed, suddenly tense. “You… didn’t mean that, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He swallows, hard.

You lean back against the pillows, watching him over the rim of your cup. “Seriously. You’re thoughtful, reliable, good with your words—when you use them—”

“Okay—”

“You always show up when I need you,” you add, voice soft now. “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Sunghoon just stares at you.

You don’t even realize how intense your gaze is until he finally looks away, the tips of his ears glowing red.

“You’re messing with me,” he mutters.

“No, I’m not.”

He sets down his cup slowly. His voice is quieter when he says, “Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.”

You sit up straighter. “But I do mean it.”

Sunghoon finally meets your eyes, and there’s something raw there now. Something just barely holding itself together.

And then, because he’s Sunghoon and horrible at vulnerability, he blurts:

“Then maybe you should date me.”

Your mouth opens. “What?”

He looks away again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

You reach for his hand before he can pull it away. “Sunghoon. Look at me.”

He hesitates—then does. And your heart cracks wide open.

“I want to say yes,” you whisper.

He blinks. “You do?”

You nod. “I didn’t think you liked me that way.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever look at me that way,” he breathes. “You’re always chasing guys who treat you like crap. Meanwhile, I’m here, dying every time you tell me about them, and all I want to do is tell you they don’t deserve you.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I was scared.” His voice rises slightly, then softens again. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. But tonight… when you said that…”

He pauses, then lets out a soft breath.

“I wanted to kiss you so bad I forgot how to breathe.”

Your eyes soften. You shift closer.

“Then don’t forget now.”

He stares at you.

And then he kisses you.

It’s tentative at first — almost like he doesn’t believe it’s happening — but it grows, slow and sure and full of everything he’s held back for so long.

When you pull apart, you press your forehead against his and whisper,

“You know you can come through the door next time, right?”

He grins. “Where’s the fun in that?”

౨ৎ Sunoo - If only you knew

You don’t say anything when the door swings open.

You just step inside, drop your purse on the floor, and crawl straight onto the couch face-down, muffling a scream into the cushions.

There's silence.

Then the sound of slippers shuffling quickly across hardwood.

Then:

“Oh no. Which flavor of man failed you this time?”

You peek out of the couch to see Sunoo standing over you in an oversized sweatshirt, hair in a clip, face cream still dotted on his cheeks like he was mid-self-care ritual when you texted the dreaded “can I come over”.

You groan. “The worst one.”

He gasps. “Worse than finance bro?”

“Worse than vape in the Uber guy.”

“Girl.”

“I know.”

Sunoo lets out the most offended noise you've ever heard and immediately shuffles toward the kitchen. “I’m making tea. And I’m putting on that sad cottage movie you like. You’re not allowed to argue.”

You don’t.

You just melt further into the couch and let yourself exhale.

Because somehow, Sunoo always knows exactly what to do when the world feels heavy.

By the time the kettle whistles, you’ve been tucked in with three blankets and a stuffed animal you pretend isn’t yours.

Sunoo returns with a tray of snacks, two mugs of tea, and a disgusted look on his face.

“So what did he do? Tell me everything. I’m ready to judge.”

You shake your head. “He… didn’t even try, Nuu.”

He sets the tray down and climbs onto the couch beside you. “Try what?”

“To know me. To see me. I spent half the night trying to think of things to talk about. It felt like I was trying to impress someone who couldn’t care less.”

Sunoo's eyes narrow. “Should I fight him?”

You let out a laugh — small, watery.

He leans his head on your shoulder. “You know you’re not hard to love, right?”

You stay quiet.

Sunoo reaches for your hand under the blanket and squeezes it. “Some people just don’t know what they’re holding until it’s gone.”

You glance at him, heart aching.

He’s right here. Warm and thoughtful and sharp as ever. He always has been.

And somehow, you whisper it before you can think better of it.

“I wish guys were more like you…”

You feel him tense.

He sits up, blinking, and nearly spills the tray trying to set his cup down.

You blink back. “Nuu?”

“Did you mean that?” he says quickly, voice just slightly higher than usual.

“I—yeah?”

He just stares at you, lips parted, like his brain has fully exited the building.

You sit up. “Why does that freak you out so much?”

Sunoo clears his throat, crosses his legs, and clasps his hands like he's giving a TED talk to himself. “No no I’m fine. Totally calm. Just casually losing my mind that the person I’m in love with just said that.”

You blink. “Wait. What.”

He freezes.

You gape. “You’re in love with me??”

“OH MY GOSH,” he says, loudly, throwing a pillow over his own face. “FORGET I SAID THAT—”

“Nuu!” You pull the pillow away and stare at him, heart pounding.

He groans. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out, okay?! It’s not like I planned to tell you after a garbage date like some B-list plot twist—”

“You’re in love with me?”

He falters, looks at you properly — flushed, anxious, but still so Sunoo.

“…Yeah,” he whispers. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

Your chest tightens.

“You… never said anything.”

He gives a tiny, shy shrug. “You were always dating someone. I didn’t want to confuse things. Or ruin us.”

“But you always—” Your voice cracks. “You always take care of me.”

He smiles sadly. “Because I want to. Because you deserve someone who actually shows up when it counts.”

You look at him — really look at him — and suddenly, all the late nights, all the surprise coffee deliveries, all the “I brought your favorite just because” texts make perfect, blinding sense.

And suddenly, this feels like the only real thing you’ve ever known.

“I think…” you whisper, “I’ve been in love with you too. I just didn’t let myself believe it.”

Sunoo blinks, stunned.

“You what?”

“I kept waiting for someone who’d treat me like you do,” you murmur, leaning in. “I just didn’t think that person could be you.”

“Why not?! I’m amazing!”

You laugh through a tear.

He grins, then cups your face with both hands. “You’re an idiot,” he says, but so fondly it makes your stomach flip.

Then, very softly, “Can I kiss you now?”

You nod, heart in your throat.

He kisses you like he’s waited a lifetime — careful, steady, warm. When he pulls away, you’re still smiling.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and whispers, “You’re never going to cry over another date again.”

“Because you’re going to fight them?”

“No.” He grins. “Because you’re done dating losers. You’re dating me now.”

౨ৎ Jungwon - What took you so long 

You don’t expect anyone to be waiting when you get home.

Your date was forgettable in the worst way — vague answers, barely-there eye contact, the kind of guy who asked questions only to talk about himself. You left early and walked home alone under a gray sky, the city lights blurred through a curtain of drizzle.

You don’t text anyone. You don’t want to talk. You just want the night to be over.

So when you push open your apartment door and find Jungwon sitting on your couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands and a small box of takeout on his lap, you stop in your tracks.

He looks up casually. “You didn’t answer my texts.”

You blink. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“I figured you’d need me.”

The way he says it — need me — sinks under your skin like something dangerous.

You walk in slowly, wet hair dripping onto your shirt, and collapse onto the couch beside him without a word.

“I brought your favorite,” he adds, offering the box. “That noodle thing you get when you’re upset but pretending not to be.”

You take it silently, the warmth of the container grounding you.

He doesn’t ask what happened. He doesn’t have to.

A while later, you’re curled up together under the same blanket, the food half-eaten and a soft playlist humming through the room. You’re both quiet, the way you always are when things get too heavy to name.

You tilt your head toward him.

Jungwon’s watching the rain trail down the window, his profile lit faintly by the glow of the streetlights. One arm rests behind your head, casual but close enough that your shoulders touch. Always close. Always almost.

“You know,” you say softly, “you’d make the perfect boyfriend.”

He blinks.

Then — too quickly — he shifts.

The blanket slips from his shoulder as he moves to set his drink down, knocking over a napkin in the process. He fumbles it. Misses. Swears quietly under his breath.

You blink. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles. Then, softer, “Just… surprised you’d say that.”

You smile faintly. “Why?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes flick toward yours, unreadable. “Because you’re always chasing guys who aren’t me.”

The words land like a pin dropped in a still room.

You stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungwon lets out a long breath, then looks at you fully — not shy, not sarcastic, not teasing. Just… honest.

“It means I’ve been here this whole time,” he says quietly. “Watching you get your heart broken over and over and wishing you’d just look at me.”

Your heart lurches.

“Jungwon…”

“I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe you already knew,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “But tonight, when you said that—when you said that—I couldn’t not say it anymore.”

You don’t speak. You’re not sure you can.

“I know I’m quiet about how I feel,” he murmurs. “But I show up. I always show up for you. Because I love you. And I’ve been loving you quietly for so long, I don’t know how to stop.”

Something cracks open in your chest.

You reach out, almost without thinking, fingers brushing his wrist. “I think I’ve always loved the way you love me,” you whisper. “I just didn’t realize that’s what it was.”

He exhales shakily.

And then — like gravity pulling him forward — he leans in, resting his forehead against yours. His voice is soft, barely trembling:

“I’ve been yours for a long time.”

You whisper, “Then maybe it’s time I caught up.”

౨ৎ Ni-ki - Not just a phase

The rain has stopped by the time you make it to his place.

You’re soaked anyway — not just from the weather, but from the date that ended in a fight over whether your standards were “too high.”

You didn’t cry this time.

Not until you walked home in the drizzle and realized how tired you were of pretending the bare minimum was enough.

You’re still blinking away the sting when the door swings open.

Ni-ki stands there in a hoodie and pajama pants, hair messy from sleep, one wireless headphone still in. He blinks once. Takes in your face.

Then without a word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you in.

“You look cold,” he mumbles, already guiding you toward the couch. “Sit. I’ll get the fluffy blanket.”

You don’t even argue. You just drop onto the cushions and watch as he disappears down the hall.

You don’t remember when it started—this instinct he has. This quiet caretaking. One second you’re friends who bicker over cereal brands and game scores, and the next he’s handing you tissues without asking. Wrapping you in the same blanket he used to cocoon himself in during movie nights. Like you’ve always belonged here, even if no one ever said it.

Ni-ki returns with the blanket and throws it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a second too long.

He doesn’t ask what happened.

He just sits beside you, legs sprawled out, staring ahead like he’s waiting for you to speak.

So you do.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for dating.”

He glances at you. “That bad?”

You nod. “It’s like… I want something real. But everyone I meet makes me feel stupid for asking.”

Ni-ki stays quiet for a second.

Then: “They’re the stupid ones.”

You glance over. “What?”

He shrugs. “For not seeing it. For not recognizing you’re the kind of person people should want.”

Your heart stutters.

He doesn’t look at you when he says it. His eyes are on the floor, hands fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie.

You laugh weakly. “Why can’t I just date someone like you?”

His whole body stiffens.

You blink. “Ni-ki?”

He moves too fast. Reaches for the glass on the table. Misses. Knocks it over. It clatters loudly — empty, but loud enough to make you jump.

“Shit—” He rushes to grab it. “I—sorry, sorry. I wasn’t expecting—”

“What did I say?” you ask slowly.

He freezes with the glass in his hand. Doesn’t look at you.

You sit up straighter. “Ni-ki.”

He exhales hard, then sets the glass down. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

You stare. “What do you mean?”

Finally — finally — he turns to you. And his eyes are bare.

Not guarded. Not teasing. Just real.

“Because I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that this—” he gestures between you “—was just a phase. That eventually you’d stop showing up at my place with tears in your eyes. That I’d stop wondering what it would be like to be the one you chose.”

You go silent.

Ni-ki lets out a small laugh, bitter and soft. “But I never got over you. I don’t think I ever will.”

Your throat tightens. “You never said anything.”

“Because I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t want to lose you just because I caught feelings first.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

The Ni-ki who made fun of your bad taste in ramen. Who used to walk you home in high school just because. Who showed up at every breakup with your favorite snacks and a movie cued up. That Ni-ki has been in love with you this whole time?

“I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same,” he murmurs.

You whisper, “What if I do?”

He stops breathing.

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his — slowly, carefully, like you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“I think I’ve been trying to find pieces of you in everyone I’ve dated,” you say quietly. “But no one comes close.”

Ni-ki swallows hard. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

The quiet between you stretches — long and full of something new. Something changing.

Then he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod again.

So he does.

And it’s everything — every unsaid word, every held breath, every day he stood at your side wondering what it would feel like to be wanted back. His hands are gentle. His lips are soft and searching. And when he pulls away, his voice is the quietest it’s ever been.

“I’ve always been yours,” he whispers.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs + notes always mean a lot 💌

tl: (read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )

[blooddlusts]

MANCHILD ⋆｡°✩ lee heeseung

( WHY YOU ALWAYS COME RUNNING TO ME ) ── ex boyfriend!! lee heeseung x fem! reader

synopsis: in which you awkwardly cross paths with your ex-boyfriend. and for him to pick up a desperate phone call when you needed it the most (read part one here)

fic notes: ex boyfriend! lee heeseung x fem! reader, suggestive language, cursing, angst, a little bit of reconciliation, very slowburn interactions

kiara's notes: due to popular demand, y'all asked for a part two. y'all can thank my bestie @nocturnebite for actually helping me come up with a happy segway into this story because i was prolly gonna make it more angsty lmao. if this needs a part three —feel free to yell at me (it prolly does)

word count: 2.7k

his phone number blocked, the pictures of you both ripped in two and thrown in the trash. every memory of his face, of his lips kissing your skin, his laughter ringing in your ear —erased, deleted, gone. that was the end of the chapter between you and lee heeseung. and perhaps it was better off that way.

it had been months since you had last spoken to him. while you promised yourself that it was't a big deal, the hole in your heart was begging to be filled, replaced with someone else. it took some motivation to get yourself out of bed, to try going out to clubs, to put makeup on and make yourself presentable in public. he had made you an emotional train wreck, which meant dragging your shaky feet out on the ground to find the confidence that had seemingly left your body the day that he shattered your heart into a million pieces.

and while the confidence returned —your luck with finding a better boy to date seemed physically impossible. no literally. the saying "there are other fish in the sea," must have been a lie. because the men on your dating apps, the men that approached you at clubs, were absolutely horrendous in every way possible. that's not to say that they weren't attractive (in fact, many of them were drop dead gorgeous) but you could spot their imperfections from the first date.

if heeseung had done one thing right, it was for your eyes to be open to the men that would sit in front of you. from the way they ate their pasta to the way they would snake an arm around your waist. the attention to detail made it so easy for you to reject another date, you didn't want to pursue another romantic relationship if they were going to be the same as your ex-boyfriend. but the one thing that lee heeseung had cursed you with was the magnetization. no matter where you went, you were always attracting the same type of men. the "man child" and it was fucking annoying.

they were the ones that played hard to get, the ones that like to linger and make you squirm in your seat wondering if you were going to be given the chance to go on a second date. the ones who promised to pick you up for dinner at seven only for you to be sitting in your living room almost an hour later, wondering when they would show up. the ones who talked passionately about their own hobbies without even batting an eye when you spoke on your success. you don't know what you did to attract such a form of men —but it was completely exhausting.

you prayed that they would be different. so maybe that's why you found yourself getting ready for another date. another dude from another dating app you were on. he didn't seem like a "man child" (but that was just your optimism speaking). and yet, you found yourself waiting in the lobby of your apartment, looking at the hands on your watch tick forward. he was late —of course he was.

"you look nice,"

his voice was unexpected. like a random bolt of lightning striking a clear summer day. it immediately took you out of your bored dazed as you looked up to see him staring at you. how many months had it been since you'd see his face? how many times had you spent trying to block him out of your head? surely, this was a figment of your imagination —but the tiny smile that touched his lips professed that the man standing in front of you was real.

"um thanks," you awkwardly replied, feeling your cheeks turn pink as you politely accepted his compliment.

the silence that between the two of you was as thick as a slice of texas toast. after all, what was there to say? how could you casually strike up a conversation with someone who casually threw your heart to the side?

"are you going on a date?"

"something like that, if he's planning on showing up," you scoffed as you looked down at your phone. no new messages, brilliant.

"how are things with your going with your girlfriend?" you asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject. you were mentally begging that your date could show up any minute now to save you from the jaws of the awkward conversation you were forced to be in.

"we broke up,"

great, so much for making the conversation less awkward.

what were you supposed to say? "i'm sorry that you two broke up?" you weren't. in fact, there was some form of satisfaction knowing that things with his ex-girlfriend didn't work out again. and yet, you found yourself awkwardly shifting in your chair praying that some sort of words could slip out of your lips to answer heeseung.

"oh..."

"...yeah,"

as much as you were curious to know why the relationship had ended. you had no choice but to plant a tiny smile on your lips and let out a sigh of relief as your phone screen lit up. saved by the bell-ish. the likelihood of this date being better than your previous ones seemed unlikely but it was better than spending any more time with heeseung. those were minutes you were never going to get back.

"well, that's my date," you said as you got up from your seat and smoothed out your dress. for a minute, you could have sworn that there was a tiny grimace on his face when he heard those words slip out of your lips. but it was almost immediately replaced with a faint smile. it had to be your imagination.

"it was nice seeing you heeseung,"

and with a polite smile, you walked out of the lobby with confidence in your footsteps, masking the sinking pit of anxious feelings that swirled in your stomach. you had a date to worry about and yet, he was there crawling his way back into your mind like a parasite.

it had been so long since you'd last seen him. so why out of all places did you have to see him now? more importantly, what was he doing in the lobby of your apartment building?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

your date was going horribly. not much of a surprise there. after being picked up forty minutes late, your date reeked of cologne. not that his cologne smelt bad, but it was like the man practically bathed in it. he was chivalrous enough to open the car door for you —that was about it. he chewed with his mouth open, he would constantly interrupt you when you had anything to say, and let's not forget how his phone wasn't silenced so you could hear the tinder notification constantly beeping on his phone.

you couldn't even keep track of what he was talking about. you were just waiting for the bill at this point. you were already planning on calling an uber instead of letting him drop you back at your place. the last thing you needed was his lips covered in pasta sauce trying to kiss you —ew.

"well, this has been a fun date but i should probably go home now," you started to say as you watched the waiter place the bill down in front of you. your date didn't even pay attention to what you had said, he took one glance at the bill and looked back up at you.

"aren't you going to pay?" he asked.

"excuse me?"

that was a quick slap to the face. now he was really racking up the points for being the worst date you've had. picking a fancy ass restaurant and expecting you to pay? of course, you should have picked up the sign sooner. there was a card on the dashboard of the car he picked you up in that was from some car rental business. he decided to pay for the most expensive bottle of wine and gorge himself on an expensive plate of food. great, another man child.

"i asked you out on the date, the least you can do is pay for the food," he replied casually while wiping the pasta sauce off of his chin.

"you've got to be fucking kidding me. is this what you do to all women that you take out on a date? order the most expensive meal and expect them to pay for it?" you snapped as you glared daggers at you date.

the fact that he didn't say anything made things even more upsetting. all he did was blink at you, as if you should have known this was how the date was supposed to go. "look, it's not that big of a deal. besides, i promise i'll make it up to you once we head back to your place," he said as he tried to place his hand on top of yours.

"oh really? is that what you think is going to happen? that i'm invite you back to back to my place and i'm gonna let you fuck with that tiny thing you call a penis?" you grit your teeth before getting up from your seat.

"go call your parents and ask them to help pay for your meal," you said as you opened your purse and threw some cash down in front of him. "here's my half of the bill," you added on before walking out of the restaurant, leaving behind your date jaw dropped and confused.

you stepped out of the restaurant into the darkened sky. the only thing lighting up the world in front of you were the city lights and the billboards that illuminated advertisements of happy smiling faces beaming in fluorescent colours in front of you.

while you should have felt relieved that you called it quits with that dude that just wanted to get in the sheets, there was something about this date that was the last straw. they were all the same, all of the dates that you had been on were just stupid men seeing you as another way to get their body count up. it was fucking disgusting. you craved the romantic life, you begged to be loved again, you wanted—

—and in that moment, your impulsiveness took over. you found yourself fishing your phone out of your purse, your hand going to the settings, clicking on a blocked phone number that you had memorized by heart, and pressing the call button.

you paced around in circles. a thousand thoughts accumulating in your head as you continued to hear the phone ring in your ear. until you heard his voice on the other line.

"hey, do you think you can pick me up?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the car ride was completely silent. no questions asked, no small talk to be made, just you two sitting with the radio as ambience to fill the void that was between the two of you. you didn't think he was going to answer, let alone pick you up. yet, you found yourself in the same car with your ex-boyfriend, with lee heeseung, the man you swore you never wanted to see in a million years —all because some stupid date went horribly wrong.

for the first time in a while, you felt like you could actually breathe. like you could sit back and pause in a world that was constantly moving. or maybe it was because you were in a car with someone that you had once been vulnerable with, someone that you had completely poured your heart and soul to. whatever the reason, you were able to rest your head on the side of the window and relax in the passenger seat.

"so, do you want to talk about what happened?" there it was. the moment that you weren't necessarily dreading, but knew that was going to happen. it was only a matter of time before he was going to confront you about the situation. or why you decided to call him up out of all people.

"not really," you muttered. you refused to make eye contact with him. one look into those doe-like eyes and hating him was a lost cause. you couldn't give in to him that easily.

"it's just, all of these dates that i've been going on are awful," you started as you finally moved your head away from the window and turned to look at him. "i mean, every guy i've been going out with these past couple of months have been the same. i'm so sick of attracting men that act like children!" you groaned as you threw your hands up into the air.

heeseung only chuckled as you finally started opening up to him again. there was something about seeing your face getting all red and flustered that made his heart skip a beat. he wanted to tell you, he needed to tell you—

"—he asked me to pay for the meal, hee. the dude literally ordered the most expensive meal on the menu and expected that i was going to pay—"

"—you called just me hee,"

you paused and turned to look at heeseung who was staring directly at you. thankfully you two were at a red light, so it wasn't like any car was going to come crashing into you but still. the nickname had slipped out of your tongue so casually that you didn't even notice yourself say it. but he did.

you didn't say anything to him after that. it was an instant "keep your lips" quiet moment after that. he caught you slipping once, you weren't going to let it happen again. so when he drove into the parking garage of your apartment complex you couldn't help but eagerly take off your seatbelt.

"well, thanks for the ride," you said already moving to open the car door. but before you could make a swift exit, heeseung was already out of the car, outside opening the door for you.

what was this feeling that was swelling up in your chest? you should be hating him right now. yet, you didn't shoo him away when he started to walk with you up to your apartment. he didn't say anything, just had his hands in his pockets, keeping his eye out for anyone that seemed suspicious. it was the tiny things that made your heart continue to skip a beat, even when you knew that you shouldn't.

"you know you didn't need to walk me to my door," you said as you fished your keys out of your purse.

"i know, i just figured that maybe it would save you from any other creeps trying to hit on you," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"i appreciate it, heeseung. thanks for picking me up tonight. i honestly didn't think that you were going to pick up the phone,"

"well i'm glad i did. i've missed talking to you,"

you could only nod and smile at his comment. and then came the awkwardness that you two were so familiar with. it's not like you could give him a hug, or the usual kiss on the cheek when you first started dating. you two were just strangers, exes that picked up the phone for one small favour. nothing more nothing less.

"have a good night, heeseung,"

"sweet dreams,"

and while you watched him walk down the hallway as you stepped into your apartment, your stomach was greeted with the same pit of butterflies fluttering around. you shook your head, you couldn't fall for him again, that would mean neglecting everything that he had done. the way that he had taken your heart, smashed it into a million pieces and left you lying trying to fix everything he had broken.

but he answered your phone call.

you watched him turn the corner, a sigh escaping your lips before you closed the door behind you. now was not the time to catch feelings for the man that had cursed you to find every "man child" in the city. now was not the time to fill the hole in your heart with the same man who inflicted the damage you were trying to fix.

but everything about that night had brought back the tiny spark that you had put out so long. the wave of emotions coming back like a tide the more you played them over in your head. and so you went to bed with a confused head and a stomach swirling with butterflies.

he had left you once before. but he came back.

if only he never answered your phone call at all.

taglist: @keehoes @daisyintherainsposts @evxnsbae @douqhnxtss @mimimovv @sunooqvrlsx

reblogs, likes, comments & feedback are appreciated!

[peasack]

I love your work!!! I was wondering if you'd write a teen!reader headcanon for them struggling with mental health, needing help with homework, coming out or getting bullied please? I especially love how you write Ava (she's my favourite character) and you manage to nail the Alexis voice

Absolutely adore this request.

I chose to write about the mental health, since I all of them (obviously) know how to deal with that. But I'll definitely put the other suggestions on my list!

Thunderbolts x Gn!Teen!Reader

✦ Thunderbolts Mental Health Support Headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Ava Starr

The quiet protector. Ava’s not the type to talk circles around you or push you to open up. Instead, she watches. She notices the changes in your behaviorthe silence, the distance, the fake smiles and instead of asking a million questions, she simply shows up. She’ll quietly sit next to you, maybe reading or scrolling on her phone, just so you know she’s there without overwhelming you.

Understands isolation deeply. After everything with her phasing, Ava knows what it’s like to feel broken, like you're a burden, like no one could possibly understand. So when you isolate, she doesn’t take it personally. She just leaves a small trail for you to follow when you’re ready a text, a post-it note, a granola bar on your desk. Tiny signs that say you’re not forgotten.

Soft but firm boundaries. If you try to shut her out completely or brush her off with a fake “I’m fine,” Ava will tilt her head at you with this deadpan look and go, “Try again.” Not mean, not angry. Just “I see through you. You’re not fine. But I’ll wait for you to be ready.” She never lets you disappear completely.

Takes you on quiet, low-pressure ‘missions.’ She’ll invite you on drives, walks, or errands that sound boring but feel safe. “Come with me to pick up supplies. No talking necessary.” It’s her way of offering you company without forcing conversation. These small moments help you reconnect to the world without overwhelming you.

Gentle about scars and history. When she finds out about your past or your scars, she doesn’t freak out. She doesn’t lecture. She just softly says, “You’ve survived a lot. You don’t have to survive it alone anymore.” And that’s it. She holds it like a secret you entrusted her with.

Fiercely protective in her own silent way. If anyone triggers you, bullies you, or drags you down—Ava will quietly, ruthlessly remove that threat from your life. No one knows how, but that person suddenly just leaves you alone. Ava doesn’t need credit or thanks. She just protects you. Always.

✦ Alexei Shostakov

Not the best with words, but man does he show up. Alexei might not always know what to say, but he makes sure you know you’re not alone. He’ll randomly sit with you, bring you snacks, or drag you into the living room to watch terrible old Soviet movies with him, just to keep you company.

Overcompensates with physical comfort. He’s big on hugs and ruffling your hair, and you get the sense he’s constantly making sure you’re still there, still safe. He’s the kind of guy who will pat your back so hard you almost fall over—but you feel a little better afterward.

Terrible at hiding his concern. He’ll blurt out things like, "You are not allowed to disappear, okay? I will find you. I will find whoever made you sad. I will crush them like beetle."

Secretly keeps an eye on your routines. He notices if you’re skipping meals, missing sleep, or isolating. He’s not subtle—he’ll straight up drag you out of bed and be like, “We are going for silly little walk. It is non-negotiable.”

Panics when you cry. He immediately calls for backup (usually Yelena) like he’s reporting a code red. But he stays. Always. Even when he’s unsure what to do, he refuses to leave your side.

✦ Yelena Belova

The calm-in-a-storm type. When you’re spiraling, Yelena doesn’t flinch. She sits next to you, quietly, like, "Okay. We are sad now. I will be sad with you." She doesn’t try to fix you. She just holds space.

Violently protective of your mental space. If someone at school or even in the team says something that hurts you, she’s on it like a hawk. “Tell me who. I just want to talk.” (She does not just want to talk.)

Talks about her own issues openly. She’ll casually drop lines like, "Yeah, I have bad days too. I usually throw knives to feel better." She tries to normalize it so you never feel broken.

Pulls you into little missions or tasks when you isolate. "Come help me spy on Alexei. It will be fun." It’s her way of reconnecting you with the world.

Terrible with cheesy comfort phrases. Instead, you get blunt affection. "You are not allowed to give up. You are my family. You do not get to leave me. I will be annoying forever, so you must stay to suffer me."

✦ Bucky Barnes

The king of quiet understanding. He never pushes. Never demands you explain. Just sits next to you, offers a cup of tea, and sometimes just says, "I’ve been there. You don’t have to talk, but I get it."

Not great with open emotional convos but will listen all night if you need. He doesn’t always know what advice to give, but he will nod along, let you ramble, and toss in dry little jokes to keep you grounded.

Gives you space but always checks in. Leaves little notes on your door like "I’m making food. You better eat." Or sends you a text: "Still breathing? Cool. Come hang when you’re ready."

Gets quietly, intensely protective if anyone makes you feel worse. He won’t make a scene but will 100% have a quiet, terrifying “chat” with the person responsible.

Teaches you small things to help. Like how to box when you’re angry, or how to breathe when you’re spiraling. He’s the type to hand you coping tools instead of empty comfort.

✦ Bob Reynolds

So, so soft about it. Bob is super emotionally tuned in and probably notices you’re struggling before you say anything. He gets this gentle, concerned tone like, "Hey, kid… you doing okay?"

Overthinks and worries a lot. He’s scared of saying the wrong thing or making you worse, but he wants to help. He’ll sit with you, make you tea, or put on your favorite show just to be near you.

Big on distraction days. He’ll offer to play games, watch movies, even sit and listen to music together, anything to help you breathe and not be stuck in your head.

Sassy comfort. Once you’re closer, he’ll throw in playful sass to make you smile when you’re down. "Look, you’re stuck with me now. Can’t get rid of me. I’m like emotional gum on your shoe."

If you cry in front of him, he crumbles. He holds you so carefully like you might break, and his voice drops to the softest whisper like, "Hey… hey, you’re safe. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.”

✦ John Walker

Awkward but fiercely loyal. John’s not super in touch with his own emotions, but the moment he sees you’re struggling, he’s locked in. He just… doesn’t always know how to handle it. "You, uh, wanna… I dunno. Wanna hit something? Or get ice cream? Or whatever helps?"

Overprepares. Starts reading up on mental health resources, making checklists in his phone like "Things To Help The Kid When They're Sad" because he genuinely wants to be good at this.

Dad-mode activated. He’ll randomly show up with snacks, your favorite drink, or movie nights without making a big deal out of it. If you try to thank him, he waves it off like, "Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s what I’m here for."

Gets super angry at anyone who hurts you. Like, full-on clenched fists, ready-to-throw-down angry. But he channels it quietly—he just gets very, very protective from a distance.

Awkward comfort, but real. Might pat your back stiffly and mutter, "Look… I might not always get it. But I care about you, okay? You’re family. You’re my kid now. Deal with it."

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hope this was alright, it's a little more detailed on Ava’s part since, of course, the request was for her.

If you guys have more requests please leave them in my inbox! <3

[echodr3ad]

Need some more Noob x Reader for Forsaken, I love this shy non-binary baddie. (You will see me more)

-Milkdunked Anon

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ Noob General Dating Hcs

Pairings: Noob x GN Reader

Warnings: None

Authors Note: Man I love Noob SO much aswell, specially their party skin they look SOO CUTEEE!! Sorry for taking a bit Milkdunked Anon, I had exams... Scary, but i'm officially on vacations now! So I can now work on requests! (Yipee!!) Since you didn't specify anything, i'll just be doing general hcs, I hope that's okay with you.

✮ Noob is quite an affectionate partner, they love to cuddle you, hold your hand, kiss your cheek and the like.

✮ What they specially like to do is linking their arms with yours. To them, it feels more intimate and special.

✮ They are a bit shy though, so it may take them a little while before they start becoming affectionate.

✮ You two are the power couple, it's a rarity to see one of you without the other.

✮ If that's the case, it's either because one of you went down or wasn't sent to participate in the round.

✮ The other survivors always ask Noob about you when they don't seem you with them, it's the first thing they ask, like "Hey Noob, where's [Name]?"

✮ They also ask you about Noob if you're the one that's left alone.

✮ Noob will clumsily throw themselves into danger to protect you. Either trying to distract the killer or taking hits for you.

✮ They always blame themselves when you go down, even when it wasn't their fault at all (please comfort them, they need it).

✮ Whenever they find an item, such as another Bloxy Cola or a medkit, you're the first person to receive it, no matter what, even if they might need it more than you do.

✮ But they refuse to take them for themselves. The only way you can force them to take a medkit for themselves is if they're on low HP and Elliot has gone down already.

✮ Speaking of Bloxy Cola, they love sharing theirs with you. It brings them so much joy being able to share something they like so much with you.

✮ They will probably ramble to you about how much more bland it tastes here than in normal Robloxia.

✮ Noob also likes to share all of their snacks with you, usually they wouldn't really like sharing, but since it's you they don't mind. They always ask if you want something.

✮ Whenever you two have the time, they like to take you stargazing since it's always nighttime.

✮ They definitly don't know the names of any constelations, but they make new ones up.

✮ They named one after you, and one after them! They always try to look for those two stars every time they stargaze with you.

✮ Believe it or not, Noob is actually quite the chatterbox. They always have a conversation topic.

✮ Your conversation could start off talking about what happened last round and end up being about something entirely different.

✮ They like to make you matching bracelets for the both of you to wear. The goofy smile they have whenever they see you wearing it is quite adorable.

✮ They don't get really mad or if they see you broke it, specially if they see that you're upset over breaking it. They know it probably wasn't your fault.

✮ They'll gladly make you another bracelet that's even better than the other one!

✮ Noob likes to try and slow dance with you, they aren't exactly good at it, but they like doing so anyway because they think it's really romantic.

✮ They also like cooking with you! They think it's super fun, specially if you're baking together.

✮ They also aren't very good with cooking, but if you are, they'll gladly pass you the ingredients you need and give you moral support with their presence.

✮ If you aren't, the both of you do your best not to screw up, even if it usually happens anyway.

✮ You end up needing to call Elliot for help, and he flawlessly fixes the issue in under a second. He truly is in a different league.

✮ Noob is definitly the type to eat the batter when you're baking, so watch over them.

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Meteor Shower💫

✨Pairing: pokémontrainer!Mingi x pokémontrainer!gn!reader ✨Prompt: Mingi decides to take you to see the meteor shower and ask you some very important questions. He just have to manage to ask you to go watch the meteor shower first. That shouldn't be too hard now should it? ✨Genre: pokemon au, fluff, romance (Mingi is doing his best to confess), ✨Rating: pg-13 ✨Word count: 7.4k ☀️Authors note: Mingis oneshot is here! Did I have lots of fun writing this one as well? Yes I did! Had to fight autocorrect on how to spell Bagon because it wanted to change it into Bacon all the time... And yes Yunho's and Mingis oneshot is loosely connected to each other😅 let's pretend I didn't post this one day later than I said I would. 🌟Tag list: @hongjoongspoetry @tournesol155

This was so frustrating. You, Mingi and Yunho were supposed to start your journey together through Hoenn after graduating from college. The three of you had even decided on who would pick which starter before you'd visit Professor Birch's lab in Littleroot town.

And now all of that planning had gone to waste.

Yunhos parents had decided that all of them would move to a far away region named Alola after you three had graduated and there was nothing none of you could do or say to put a stop to it. Yunho barely got any time to say goodbye to you two before he was whisked away on a plane.

Therefore the carefully crafted plan the three of you had made for how you'd travel and what you'd finally do on your journey had been ripped apart.

You and Mingi had still gone to get your very first pokémon's together. Yunho had specifically told the both of you to start your journey together and to make sure to do all you both wanted to do. He had then also whisked Mingi away from you and the two of them had whispered to each other looking very serious as they were bent trying to hide behind a plant as they spoke. Only problem was the plant may have been tall but they were significantly taller than said plant.

You had ended up laughing so much at their silliness you'd almost tripped over your own feet when making your way over to ask them what on earth they were doing. To which both had fumbled and almost knocked the plant over as they both denied even talking to each other.

And now here you and Mingi were, partners next to each other as you wandered into a new little town called Misty Village which is located in-between Slateport city and Mauville city. Mingi was holding his partner torchic in his hands, the tiny little chick pokémon could not keep up with her trainers long legs and would constantly make a fuss if she had to walk on the ground next to Mingi, resulting in your friend carrying her most of the time to please "her royal highness" as he had lovingly dubbed her. Your partner on the other hand was happily trotting next to you, finding joy in just walking with you. You glanced down at your mudkip who was easily one of the happiest pokémons you'd ever come across. There never seemed to be a dull moment with him around and was there one thing he loved doing then it was sightseeing.

Sometimes when you two sat up camp he'd find the most scenic place to just sit and take it all in, often your whismur would join him in sightseeing while your third and currently final pokémon shroomish would scoff and follow you instead like a little shadow.

It was funny really how both you and Mingi had three pokémon each, the two of you hadn't meant to have the same amount of friends but it just happened so naturally that neither of you questioned it. You're brought out of your daydreaming when you hear Mingi chuckle for himself causing you to look at your friend curiously.

"What are you giggling about?" You ask, taking in his smile and how his eyes are shining with such happiness.

I wonder if he'd ever look at me with such shining eyes. You muse to yourself before focusing back on what Mingi is about to say.

"I just realized I got two pokémon's who refuse to walk next to me because I walk too fast for their little legs and that both want to be carried all the time. Imagine if all of my friends ends up like Torchic and Bellossom?" He asks and torchic looks up at him with curious eyes letting out a little "Torchic?" as Mingi smiles and give her little head a kiss.

"Hmmmm it's either that or they turn out like Bagon who likes headbutting you from time to time." You mention and with that he giggles again.

"Then if I can choose I'll take a few more passenger princesses rather than more friends who will headbutt me or perhaps bite me." He says, thinking back to the most recent time bagon had headbutted him in the stomach.

He knows the little dragon pokémon means well and that that's how he shows affection. Mingi just wishes from time to time that he would show affection in a less brutal way. But the last time, Mingi had made a little cardigan for his friend with a pair of wings. It hadn't looked good at all and he had worked weeks upon weeks to sew the cardigan but bagon had been so happy he'd shed tears upon seeing the wings on the cardigan and then he had promptly headbutted Mingi in affection.

It was to the point where he never took it off and if Mingi tried just so he could wash it his friend would run and hide behind your leg, peeking out and scolding him from afar.

"Awww but he's just showing his affection for you Mingi! Plus you literally gave him wings, the one thing he wishes he could have so he could fly. That probably meant more to him than you know." You muse, nudging Mingis arm with your elbow.

"You're right, I know. Bellossom have now started to ask for a little bracelet... she often points at mine and then show her own little arms." He confesses and you feel your heart slowly melting at the affection he has for his friends.

"I think that would be cute, I could teach you how to bead a bracelet if you'd like? I just need to buy some material first." You tell him.

"You'd do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you."

"I'd do anything for you as well Y/n." He says sincerely and he's reminded of the two tickets tucked away securely in one of the many pockets in his backpack.

Two tickets to the meteor shower in Mossdeep City at their Space Center. He wished to ask you if you wanted to go with him there and watch the meteor shower. It would be the perfect place to confess and ask if you wanted to be his partner. Yunho had encouraged him before he had to leave for the plane that he should take this time to actually confess to you. Claiming that it was easy to see you also had feelings for him, something Mingi had denied and said that couldn't possibly be true. Then Yunho had the audacity to say alright bet! So now if Yunho was correct he'd owe him lunch, drinks and dessert next time they see each other.

What Mingi doesn't know is that you also have feelings for him, it's just that you don't know how to bring it up and tell him about it. You had once confessed to Yunho about how you had tried once when you and Mingi worked on a project together in college only to chicken out in the last minute to which Yunho had tried to urge you to confess with a beaming smile and an attitude that said just do it you won't regret it.

"Hey Y/n, I was just wondering... Do you think you'd like t-" Mingi starts but is interrupted by your mudkip.

"Mudkip! Mud!" Your partner screeches in joy as you see him rush forward in happiness.

"Mudkip! Wait don't run too far!" You call after the little blue creature, sprinting after him in worry that you'd loose him in the crowd at this new place. Mingi sprints after you as well trying to keep his eyes on both you and your partner. He doesn't want to loose sight of either of you.

Your partner just calls back to you in happiness as he jumps into a fountain in the middle of the square you have entered where he swims around in happiness and splashes about.

"Mudkip! You can't just run away like that! What if I lost sight of you or you got lost!" You scolded your friend whose only response is to splash some water in your face and jump around laughing adorably.

"God you're impossible to stay mad at." You sigh as you bring out a towel to dry your face.

"Mudkip next time just tell us where you wanna go instead of running away and giving us both a heart attack thinking we might loose you." Mingi joins in on the scolding and the two of you can hear an older woman who's sitting at the fountain chuckle about how the two of you look like two parents scolding their child.

Does it cause Mingis face to turn beet red and yours to heat up to the point you think your face is on fire? Yes, yes it does and the two of you are quick to splutter out apologies to her for the commotion you four caused.

"Oh don't worry dearies, it's nice seeing trainers really care for their pokémons, it warms my heart. And this sweetheart just seemed to want to have some fun." She pets your mudkip who had swam up to her in curiosity as she spoke.

"I hope he didn't splash you with any water when he jumped in?" You ask worriedly, ready to offer up your towel in case she'd say yes.

"Oh no he didn't. I'm completely dry."

"That's good, Mudkip you and I will have to have a talk about running away after this." You grumble and he just nods happily as he swims up to the two of you and jumps up on the stones so you can pick him up with your towel to dry him.

"Well... At least we know people here are nice." Mingi mumbles as he looks around, he's slightly bummed he didn't manage to ask you about the tickets but the day isn't over, he will just try again soon he tells himself.

"We have a festival going on here in Misty Village if you two would be interested? There's all kinds of things to do, eat food, learning how to do pokéblocks, vendors selling things and more." The old lady kindly tells the two of you before she stands up and bids the two of you goodbye.

"Pokéblocks? I wonder what that is." You ask as you hold mudkip, still wrapped in your towel.

"Perhaps we should go and find out? It must be something for our pokémons and I wouldn't mind learning something new if It could benefit her royal highness." He says as torchic chirps out in happiness at her nickname.

"Let's go and see what they have to offer!" You grab his hand and wander into the crowd and towards all the different stalls.

Mingi has to fight the blush on his cheeks from you holding his hand and he can see how torchic laughs at his blushing face, she's clearly enjoying him being flustered over you taking action and holding his hand.

"Don't you laugh at me." He grumbles towards her quietly.

"Hey look! That stall is teaching about berries and their benefits! Let's go there! I wanna know more so we know what to pluck next time we see them!" You gasp as a young man is standing at a stall, berries lying neatly on his table with small notes next to each one.

"Hello! Care to learn a bit about berries and their benefits? You'll get some berries at the end of it if you'd like?" He asks when he spots the two of you walking closer.

"Yes please! We wanna know more!" You say happily and Mingi looks at you from behind with a fond look.

"Mudkip!" Your partner agrees with you.

"Of course I'll tell you everything you need to know!" The young man smiles happily as the four of you stand looking at what he's got displayed.

"Are all of these all of the berries you can find in the wild?" Mingi asks as he eyes the wide array of colorful berries on the table.

"Oh no these are only a handful of them! There are about 43 different kinds of berries in the wild here in Hoenn." The vendor tells him and both you and Mingi stare at him with wide eyes.

"43?!" The both of you exclaim at the same time and the vendor laughs heartily at your reaction.

"I know I reacted the same way when I first learned how many there were and they all do different things you know!" He picks some up and showcases them for you.

"I think I recognize some of these." You murmur as you point towards what you think is an oran berry and a pecha berry. "That one is an oran berry right? It helps heal your pokémon when they need energy and the pink one is a pecha berry which helps heal your pokémon if it's been poisoned right?"

"You would be correct! This one over here is commonly mistaken for a pecha berry but it's actually a magost berry and is more commonly used in either cooking or when making pokéblocks!" You and Mingi look closer at the two pink berries he's holding up, you note that the pecha berry has more of a heart shape and is a darker pink closer to the stem and down at the bottom is a lighter pink while the magost berry is just one solid pink and round instead of heart-shaped.

"Hey what kind of berry is this one?" Mingi asks as he picks up an orangy red berry that is round with what looks like spikes coming out of it.

"That is a tamato berry, it's very very very spicy. I would not recommend eating it or giving it to any of your pokémons. It will only lower their speed, if you wanna spice up your cooking it could be good to use in small quantities unless you can tolerate spice of course."

You look at Mingi as the vendor speaks and you can practically see the cogs turning in his head thinking that it cannot be that spicy and you just know he wants to try it despite being warned not to.

"Mingi... don't do it..." You try and take the berry away from him but that causes him to only turn his body away holding the berry as high as he can.

"No! I wanna try it."

"Mingi please last time you ate something super spicy you couldn't taste anything for three weeks."

"It can't be that spicy!" He argues as he looks at you with those big round eyes and you groan knowing you cannot say no or change his mind.

"Fine but don't come to me whining that you can't taste anything or that it's too hot for you!" You grumble, knowing that if he came to you whining that it's way too hot and spicy you'd try and help him in a heartbeat.

"Are you sure you wanna try it?" The vendor asks and Mingi just nod before taking the largest bite he could out of the darn berry. You stare at him as he chew slowly but surely and then he swallows it and at first you'd think there was nothing wrong at all until you notice the small beads of sweat traveling down his forehead and then you notice the red starting to creep up from his neck.

"T-torchic?" His partner looks at him concerned before wiggling out of his grip and jumping onto the table and runs over to you with worried eyes.

"Torchic?" She leans into you and you pet her little head as you watch Mingi go bright red in the face as he tries to pretend everything is fine.

"Mingi... you okay?" You ask, fearing he might pass out from how red he is.

"I'm... I'm fine." He says and he manages to uphold that facade for about three seconds before he starts gasping trying to cool his mouth down.

"It's hot! Y/n it feels like my mouth is on fire!! What do I do what do I do what do I do?!" He waves his hands around as he takes deep gulps of air and you panic looking around for something to cool him down.

"Umm water... we need water!" You start searching your bag but can't find anything. "Argh! Okay uhhh.. Oh! Mudkip!" You turn to your partner and point towards Mingi.

"Use water gun on Mingis face to help cool him down!!" You say and you can barely hear Mingis little "wait what" before mudkip blasts him with a stream of water in his face.

"Do you feel better now?" You ask hesitantly as he shakes his head trying to get rid of the water from his face.

"Yeah... Thanks to the both of you, I genuinely thought I was gonna explode from how hot it was."

Torchich runs back up to her trainer and look at him with worried eyes, is there another thing she absolutely hates then it's when one of you gets hurt. She's always very sweet and right now she's doing her best to check up on Mingi as tears forms seemingly as if she thinks he was hurt very badly.

"Hey, hey your royal highness, don't be upset. I promise I'm okay, I was just dumb trying to impress Y/n but I made a fool out of myself. I won't do it again okay?" He says with a gentle smile as he crouches down to her eye level. She looks at him with teary eyes before running up to him to nuzzle his face chirping.

Mingi picks her up and kisses her little head before turning to mudkip and crouching down to him.

"Hey buddy, thanks for blasting me with the water, it really helped." He smiles and mudkip jumps forward into his arms with happiness.

"I think we should abandon any thoughts of eating things people say are super, super, super spicy for the rest of the day." You mutter as you place your hand on your hip and he looks up at you and chuckles.

"Were you worried about me?" He teases with a smirk and you roll your eyes.

"Nooo..."

"You sure?"

"Okay maybe a little worried, you looked like you'd explode with how red you were." You confess trying to act nonchalant even though you had felt panic for a split second before remembering that mudkip was a water type and could therefore help out in the situation.

The two of you apologized to the vendor for the scene Mingi caused by going against what he had recommended and the young man only laughed and said that it was nice seeing two young adults actually interested in berries to the point where he gifted the two of you a book on berries in the wild and other herbs you can eat or use to help heal your pokémons. The two of you had tried to deny it but he insisted, saying it might be for Mingis best if you two had one so he don't go around eating other berries he shouldn't and end up in trouble again.

That had made Mingis face burn in embarrassment.

The two of you then wander down the street after bidding the man goodbye. The street is filled with people, old and young and their pokémons. It's surprisingly cozy and the atmosphere is great and it's a nice break from always being out on the road and sleeping in sleeping bags under the stars.

Which is great until it starts raining and the two of you have to try and set up a tent in panic. Leading to both of you sitting in said tent absolutely drenched.

"Hey Mingi." You start trying to muster up the courage to tell him you like him more than a friend since Yunho had encouraged you to do so a few months back.

"Yeah?"

"You know I-" You start but when you make eye contact with him it's like the words get lodged in your throat and you can't get it out. "You know what never mind, I forgot what I was gonna say." You say laughing awkwardly.

"Mudkip! Mud Mudkip!" Your partner points one of its stubby little legs at you with an accusatory tone as if scolding you for not telling him.

Mudkip did after all know about your feelings for your friend. You had told him plenty of times during restless nights when Mingi snored away in his sleeping bag. Your other friends knew as well as they sometimes refused to go to sleep if you were awake, shroomish would plop himself in your lap and just sit there, sometimes staring at you, sometimes chatting with you and one time he had even put you to sleep by using sleep powder on you. Something you had berated him for the next day and then promptly after that thanked him for the good nights sleep.

"Hey buddy I'm sure whatever Y/n wanted to tell me will come back soon. It happens to the best of us that we forget sometimes. Plus you know you can tell me anything, I'll always listen." He says in that lower voice he gets when he's being very sincere and mudkip looks at him and then huffs looking away to the side.

"Speaking of that ummm I was wondering if you want-" Some kids rush in between the two of you laughing as they chase a balloon and it stunts Mingi who once again feels like his moment to ask you about the meteor shower has been lost.

"What did you want to say Mingi?" You look at him, mentally making sure him and your partners are okay.

"Oh nothing we can take it a bit later I promise." He says before he barely have time to process the fact that he failed yet again.

You nod and look around seeing a place you wanna go to, it’s a stand where you can learn a bit more about taking care of your pokémons and they seem to be giving out bags with things inside for people visiting.

“Oohhh I wanna go over there! They seem to be helping with pokémon care and I’d like to ask them for some tips on taking care of Whismur, do you wanna come with me?” You turn to face Mingi who looks thoughtful for a moment before noticing another place.

“I think I’m gonna go over there to the flower stand, Bellossom would probably enjoy all the flowers.” He says as he thinks of his little grass friend and you smile fondly at him.

“Mudkip wanna come with me?” You ask your partner who is still in Mingis arms.

“Mud!” He wiggles out of Mingis grip and then jumps down onto the ground before trotting up to you happily.

“Shall we meet over at the gigantic flower pot in twenty minutes?” You ask thinking that that would be an appropriate time for the both of you to explore the two places you’d like to visit.

“Sure! See you soon?”

After that the two of you split up and as you walk over to the stand you’re greeted by a kind lady who asks what she can help you with and you tell her you’d want some tips on taking care of your whismur, letting her know that she often cries and doesn’t like when her fur gets wet leading to you finding it hard to clean her if she’s gotten extra dirty.

“Ah I see, it could just be that she has a very gentle nature, sometimes if they do they can feel a lot of things be very overwhelming all of the time. For cleaning her I’d suggest you try using a damp cloth instead of water, that way it might not feel as unpleasant as she thinks it is.” The lady explains and you nod thinking that what she has said might actually be true.

“Would it be okay if I brought her out so you could just perhaps do a little check?” You ask wanting to make sure her tips would actually work on her and not make it all worse.

“Of course, I’ll gladly have a look at her.” She says and you’re quick to bring whismur out of her pokeball.

“Hi Whismur.” You say happily as she looks around before spotting you and she perks up giving you the cutest little smile as she runs up to you.

“Whismur!” She greets you happily and the lady smiles at your interaction as you let her hold your hand in her little paws.

“Just from this interaction alone I can tell you care a lot for her and that she’s well taken cared of. She is probably the happiest Whismur I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a lot of them. None have been this happy as yours.”

“Wait really?!” You look at her in surprise before looking down again, happiness spreading in your chest at the thought of getting such nice praise for how you’re raising your pokémon.

“Yes really, Whismurs can be notoriously hard to take care of since they have such sensitive hearing and a lot of people dub them as cry babies so seeing yours calm, happy and generally content is a sight to behold. Good job!” Her praise makes you grin, it’s not often you get praise and getting this good praise from someone who knows what they’re talking about is something else.

She then brings over a damp towel and hands it to you so you can see if whismur will prefer it over just water. You take your time at the stall, asking her lots of questions regarding pokémon care and getting more tips for how to continue to take care of them in the best way possible.

In the other stall Mingi is sitting on the ground with his torchic on his left side as bellossom dances around in happiness at being surrounded by flowers everywhere. The vendors had told him he could make his own bouquet if he wanted to and hand it to someone he cared about and his first thought had been to create something for you. You had once during college mentioned offhandedly how you’d love to be gifted a bouquet of flowers some day and now he had his chance to gift you a bouquet he had made all on his own.

“Okay Torchic, Bellossom you two will have to help me here.” He leans down and gathers them closely as he lowers his voice to tell them what’s going on. ”I want to make a bouquet for Y/n but I need your help in picking which flowers goes nicely together. Think you two can help with that?”

Torchic jumps up and down before nodding happily while bellossom does some little twirls around as she puts her little paws up to her face looking absolutely delighted at the request.

”Bell, bellossom!” She’s quick to point out some baby’s breath together with some sunflowers as she looks at Mingi with intensity.

”Okay yeah we can go with those two.” He nods as he plucks some and starts building the bouquet together.

”Do you two think I should add some carnations?” He adds as he holds up some darker red ones together with a few white ones as well and torchic nods seemingly approving of his choice to add the two pretty flowers.

The three of them sit for a while building the bouquet together, torchic demands he add some thistles as she spots them to which he does because who is he to deny her anything? He soon sits in silence, tongue sticking out lightly as he concentrates on making the bouquet pretty and after what felt like an eternity he thinks he’s done. He had added som greenery to give it variation and made sure to show both his little friends for approval before he went and asked for a ribbon to tie it all together.

”Think Y/n will like this?” He asks and to his surprise his third and final pokémon decides to come out of his pokéball just at that moment.

”Bagon?”

Mingi is surprised, usually this little fella stays in his pokeball unless Mingi calls for him. Bagon ignores him as he studies the bouquet intensely, his little arms crossed making it look like he’s thinking really hard of it’s okay or not.

“Torchic tor?”

“Bell bellossom!”

“Bagon Bagon!” The dragon nods after he and the little ladies seemingly discuss it back and forth before all three giving Mingi their approval.

“Thanks you three.” He chuckles finding their actions funny. All three of them looked at him encouragingly as if saying you got this go ask them about it now! Bagon was even holding out its little paw as if he were doing a fist bump upwards to show that he was supportive.

“Oh what a lovely bouquet you’ve made! So full of beautiful meanings.” One of the older ladies holding a bucket of flowers says as she passes Mingi.

“Oh thank you! And meaning? What do you mean by that?” He asks curiously to which she responds by telling him that every flower has a hidden meaning and then explains what the flowers he’s picked means. By the end of her explanation after she’s walked off his cheeks are tinted a rosy color before looking at his partners.

“Did you two know about this when you helped me pick out the flowers?” He asks suspiciously and torchic just giggles before hiding behind bagon and his little cardigan while bellossom just gives him an innocent smile pretending like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

He clears his throat as he tries to will away the blush that's crept up his cheeks after knowing the meaning behind his bouquet and stands up.

"I think the time is up now, let's go and see Y/n and hopefully I can ask about the tickets this time."

The four of them wander out and towards the big flower pot you two had agreed to meet at. It seems he's the first one there so they stay there and wait for a while before spotting you, mudkip and whismur making your way over there. When you spot him you wave excitedly before holding up a big bag as if to show off the presents you got from the stall you had visited in excitement.

"Look at all the things I got for us Mingi!" You say as you open the bag for him to peer inside and see the large amount of things you had been gifted.

"Woah that's a lot of things."

"It is and I learnt so much so now I will be even better at taking care of our pokémons! I can teach you as well if you'd like."

"I'd like that." He smiles before looking down at the flowers and then he holds them out quickly towards you.

"I made these for you."

"For me?" He can hear the surprise in your voice and when you take them from his hands he dares glance at you and nod. "You said you wanted a bouquet of flowers once in college remember?"

"You remember that?" You asks not believing he'd actually remember your offhanded remark about being gifted flowers.

"I remember everything you tell me." He mumbles as bagon nudges his leg trying to make him remember what they wanted him to do.

"Hey Y/n do you think you'd like to go with me to umm."

"Yes? Go with you where?" You ask looking at him, part of you feel hopeful that perhaps he'd ask you to go with him somewhere special and when Mingi makes eye contact with you the words get stuck once again in his throat and he doesn't really know what to say.

"Go with me to the stand over there? They're teaching you to make pokéblocks." He can hear bagon groan down near his leg and he opts to ignore him knowing that if he looks down the little dragon type will 100% scold him from backing down once again.

"Oh sure!" You say, trying to hide the disappointment since you had thought that Mingi would ask you something else entirely after gifting you flowers.

Your little gang ends up sitting on the ground with two pots in front of you as the instructor goes over how to make pokéblocks for your pokémons, describing them as a kind of snack a lot of them will prefer and going over the different colors which co-respond to a different flavor and how certain pokémons will prefer one flavor over the other.

You and Mingi sit and concentrate as you put in the berries you've chosen and the other ingredients, stirring around as you make sure nothing will burn. Mudkip looks at what you're doing with concerned eyes, he trusts you a lot but right now he's not so sure he trusts what you're doing with how much steam is coming out from the pot.

"Hey look! I managed to make some blocks!" Mingi shows off his blocks proudly from the little dispenser you'd pour the batter into to then plop one block out at a time. They are a bit wonky looking and you weren't sure they were supposed to look like that at all.

"You sure those are edible?" You ask and he gasp at you looking offended.

"You don't think my pokéblocks are edible?! I put in blood sweat and tears into these." He says dramatically before plopping three of them out.

"Here guys don't you wanna try some? I made them for you!" He beams and his pokémons eye the pokéblocks with suspicion. Torchic is the brave one and tries one and she makes the strangest face, looking similar to how you feel when eating a lemon, before running around in circles and crying out seemingly how bad it was.

"Don't think she approved of it." You muse forgetting to momentarily stir your pot.

"Whismur! Whis!" Whismur is quick to remind you in fear of yours turning out worse than what she had just witnessed.

"It can't be that bad Torchic!" Mingi looks at her surprised before looking at his other friends, bellossom is pretending to be asleep while bagon just stares at him with a don't you even dare type of face.

"Here I'll try one and prove they're not bad!" He says before plopping one in his mouth and he chews a bit trying to pretend it tastes good but his facial expressions betray him.

"That bad huh?"

"Yeah ummm this needs some more practice I think, eugh don't worry guys I won't feed you any more until I'm better at this." He makes sure to throw his away.

"This is why you leave the cooking to me." You boast proudly and Mingi gives you a massive side eye.

"I don't think they should be a burnt color like yours are." He hits back and you look down at your blocks.

"They're not that bad! Here Whismur! Try one!" You hold one out and she just pretends she couldn't hear you, looking around hoping someone would save her. "Mudkip? You wanna try one?" You try again and he trots up and sniffs at one of them before taking the tiniest bite with a polite smile.

"See!"

"He is not enjoying that at all!"

"It can't be that bad!"

You quickly eat one as well only to start coughing at how bad the taste was.

"Yeah no no ew that wasn't good at all... I think I need more practice at this as well." You mutter before apologizing to mudkip for having to eat that.

"I guess making pokéblocks isn't our forte at all."

The two of you start snickering and giggling after making eye contact finding this whole scenario funny. You both agree that if you are to create any for your friends that the two of you will work together and always taste before giving any to your friends to make sure they actually taste well.

"Oh yes you wanted to ask me something earlier Mingi? When those kids ran between us and right before we split up?" You ask curiously, it's been on your mind the entire day the fact that he's tried to ask you something but every time something has come up which has made him unable to properly ask what he wants to.

"Oh hehe." He laugh as the two of you stands up ready to walk out from this place and bagon stares at Mingi with so much intent ready to do something drastic in case Mingi doesn't ask you this time.

His patience is running thin.

"Oh it's nothing don't worry about iitt!" Mingi barely has any time to finish his sentence before bagon headbutts him in the back causing him to fly forward and land onto of you with an oof.

"Ah! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen! Bagon! You can't knock into me like that." He berates the pokemon before checking up on you.

"Ar you okay? Did I hurt you?? I'm so sorry..." He sits up and makes sure you're okay.

"I'm fine my butt hurts a bit but otherwise i'm fine.. Are you okay?" You ask.

"I am. Okay here goes nothing I guess." He says taking a deep breath before continuing. "Y/n, do you want to go and watch the meteor shower in Mossdeep city with me at their space center? I got two tickets and I would like to go with you if you want to? I know we weren't suppose to head to Mossdeep next but I'd really want to do this with you." He blurts out before he lets the opportunity go again.

"Meteor shower?" You say before your eyes light up. "Of course I wanna go! Oh Mingi that would be so much fun!" You say as you also think about how it would be pretty romantic to watch the stars fall together with him.

"Yeah?" His gummy smile is making an appearance again and you giggle at bagons proud look behind the two of you before nodding.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

It takes a few days to get to Mossdeep city but the two of you manages to hitch a ride with constable Jenny to the closest port to take a boat over so you'd get there quicker than you would walking. You still have the flowers Mingi had gifted you sticking out of your bag and every time you looked at him your heart warmed at the sight. Getting these tickets to the space center wasn't an easy task meaning Mingi had gone out of his way to get them behind your back just so he could ask you to go with him.

A part of you wondered if this was a date or not. Perhaps you should take Yunhos advice and confess to him when the two of you are watching the meteors. What could go wrong? Yunho had insisted that Mingi wouldn't reject you and that you'd get the outcome you were hoping for so perhaps it would be a good idea to tell him today?

Those were the thoughts running through your head as the two of you got off the boat and steered your way towards the space center. It was almost time for the meteor shower to start since the boat had taken up most of the day when traveling.

"Hello and welcome to Mossdeeps space center, are you here for the meteor shower?" The receptionist asks kindly as you two enters, hand in hand.

"Hello! We are! I got two tickets right here." Mingi tells her before handing over the tickets. Once they were scanned the lady let you both inside and told you to go up the stairs to gain access to the top floor to be able to sit outside and enjoy the beautiful show.

"I'm so excited to see the beautiful show, especially now that I'm here with you." You confess, cheeks heating up slightly at the confession.

"I'm just glad you said yes." He admits, cheeks turning a slight rosy color as well.

Mingi guides you to a spot in the middle of the open balcony where a little bench is sitting and the two of you sit down together. Your hands still linked together as if it will help the both of you to gain courage to say what you want to say.

In Mingis head Yunhos words from right before he left for the plane echos. "You should confess Mingi, I know they'll say yes I promise they feel the same about you. Go for it." Should he go for it? He thinks he should, it's the perfect place to confess and if he doesn't do it now he might regret it for the rest of his life.

In your head unknowingly to Mingi, Yunhos words are also echoing in your head. You think back to that conversation and wonder if Yunho knows something you don't, you haven't been able to figure it out if he's telling the truth about Mingi liking you back or if he's just being a nice friend who's encouraging you to speak your truth. And in this moment you decide it's best to do so. No matter what the consequences might be.

"Hey Mingi I need to tell you something."

"Hey Y/n I need to tell you something."

The two of you look at each other in surprise before chuckling at the fact that you both said the same thing at the same time.

"Sorry you go first Mingi."

"But you spoke first." He says and you shake your head insisting he should talk first thinking he just wants to tell you something normal.

"Okay then... Here goes nothing. I really like you Y/n, not like like you only as a friend, I like you more than a friend." He starts before looking you in the eyes and holding your hands in his tightly. "I love you like a lot. More than I think I realize myself and I just had to tell you before I explode from keeping it inside for much longer." He confesses sincerely and you gape at him in surprise, never would you have thought that he'd confess to you.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same I just had to tell you."

"I love you too!" You blurt out to stop his ramblings.

"Wait really?"

"Yes! For a long time now actually, ever since college when we first met, that's when my crush started which then developed into something more. I was actually gonna confess to you as well but you beat me too it." You smile and the smile Mingi gives you could rival a thousand suns before he dives in for a hug.

"Would you want to be my partner?" He asks quietly as if he's scared you'd say no right after confessing you have feelings for him.

"I'd love nothing more than that Mingi." You tell him before lightly holding his chin after breaking the hug. "May I give you a kiss?"

"You may." He giggles and you lean in giving him a quick little kiss on his lips before settling in next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as he leans his head on yours.

The two of you continue to cuddle as the meteor shower starts up in the sky, everything is just perfect in this moment in time and you couldn't be happier. Perhaps you need to thank bagon later on for giving Mingi the push he needed to ask you to come here with him.

Speaking of said pokémon, he and the others bursts out of their pokéballs to join you in watching the sky. Some cuddle in your laps while others sit on the ground in front of you enjoying the scenery.

"You know what I just realized?" Mingi muses and you tilt your head up to look at him. "I owe Yunho a drink, lunch and dessert now the next time we see him."

Yeah you think, perhaps neither of you would have had the courage to confess had he not urged the both of you to say something.

But for now you'd enjoy the perfect evening with your friends and boyfriend.

[starlinggirll]

PITCH PERFECT — CHAPTER ONE

AUTHORS NOTE — some things will obviously be different from the movie for the sake of the series. keep in mind this is the first chapter so obviously not alot will be revealed. but im sooo excited to write more!

WARNINGS — r word (doesn't impact the story at all), other then that nothing? please lmk if you want me to add more i missed!

you got out of the taxi, bags and suitcases in both hands as you took everything in. "thank you," you say to the taxi driver as he helps you with your last bag.

your examination of "Barden University" gets cut off short by a girl in green uniform greets you and asks you for your dorm. "baker hall?" you mumble. and the girl nods at you and starts telling you were to go.

after, you take the keys she hands you. oh, and a rape whistle...? whatever. you take both and walk to your dorm. its not the best introduction to the campus, you immediately start getting cat called. nothing too serious, but its obnoxious.

after a while of walking you get to your dorm, already seeing your roommate there. "oh," you say as you see a girl in there. "oh, hi." she waves back lamely, but she has a small smile. her vibe is totally opposite from yours. she has headphones, eyeliner and piercings. "hi." you smile at her, setting your stuff down on your bed.

you soon find out her name is beca, and she's sorta of a dj. frankly, you dont pay much attention to her, it comes with having social anxiety. atleast in your case, you just sorta ... zone out. and thankfully she notices, "do you... want to go to the activities fair?" you nod almost immediately.

whatever to get you out of the awkward situation.

you both start walking out, "oh shoot, i forgot my phone. you can go ahead without me." you turn your head at beca's voice, nodding while still walking. what a mistake.

you're suddenly hit by what seems to be a wall, but you look up and see...a guy. he's tall, shoulders broad, his hair is blonde and curly. oh and another guy (jesse), he's about an inch taller, his hair is dark and unlike the guy you bumped into, he has a small grin. "sorry!" you blurt out, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. "watch were you're going." the mysterious blonde huffs out while already walking away.

the other guy offers you a sheepish smile before catching up to the blonde. "jeez art, could of atleast been a little..." their conversation fades out. but hey, atleast you figured out the name of the blonde. 'art'.

good to know.

so now you can avoid him at all costs.

you get to the so called "activities fair". you dont really have a niche, sure you like fashion. but its not something you're passionate about.

walking past a jewish group, a group of boys singing obnoxiously loud, you get called out by a bubbly voice coming from a white stand. a blonde girl (aubrey) and red haired girl (chloe) are infront of the stand, looking at your as if you were a treasure. "any interest of joining out acapella group?" the red haired girl exclaims while hanging your a paper.

the barden bellas. has a nice catch to it.

"acapella?" you murmur, looking up at him. "yup. its like a band, but every comes from our mouths. no instruments." "oh." you smile slightly, her bubbly personality is a bit contagious. "there's four groups on campus; the bellas, that's us." she chuckles, pointing her finger to another group, "Bu harmonics." you follow her finger each direction she's pointing at. "the high notes. and then there's..." both of their smiles fall as they turn to look at the same group of boys who were singing obnoxiously.

the treble-makers.

and surprise surprise!

the guy—art. and the guy you assume to be his friend, is talking to the front guy. your gaze flickers back to the girls as they both chuckle. "see you at auditions?"

"yeah." you blurt out. nodding before you realize you're doing it. "see you soon then." chloe says excitedly, waving at you. you wave back at them before walking away.

"c'mon dude. we have to join a group. live the college dream." jesse says while walking around the activities fair. "i dont-" art gets cut off by an obnoxiously loud singing coming from a group of boys sitting by the entrance. the banner 'treble-makers" behind them.

the conversation with the short guy, bumper, is a weird one. yet somehow, now him and jesse are going to auditions.

he did see you talking to the bellas. which from what he gathered from the conversation with bumper, the bellas and the treble-makers are sorta rivals. he doesn't even know why he noticed you talking to them. but whatever it is, you keep catching his eye.

but you, and him, have bigger fish to fry ; auditions.

[tennaoneshots]

Hello!

Do you think you could write Yandere Tenna?

But only if you are comfortable with that.

Thanks!

Have a good day!

TW: violence, tv blood?,

Yan Tenna x Reader

---

Y/n was just a regular lightner, or so they thought. All Y/n did was draw and make art for a living, and then the Dremurr's gave them their old CRT TV, and Y/n wasn't one to say no easily, so they took it. Y/n wasn't sure what to do with the TV, since they already had one, a newer model, so they just plugged the TV in and used it for some inspiration. It's not everyday you get an old TV afterall

Tenna, on the other hand, was curious about this new lightner who had taken him in. They didn't seem like anything special at first, but then he kept watching them, noting how, when they draw, are staring at him intensely, ocassionally running their hand over his screen and the other parts of the TV to get all of the details right. It made him feel special, and jealous of that upstart TV that appeared when he arrived at Y/n's house. Sam was his name, a shortening of the brand name. Sam kept saying how Y/n was his favorite, and how Y/n loved him and then would eventually get rid of Tenna for being so old...

Tenna didn't like that, so he took matters into his own hands. Taking a quick glance at his own screen, he notes that Y/n is asleep on the couch, having had a busy day with their friends. Time to put his plan into action.

"Sam", Tenna called, looking for the other TV, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Hm? Oh! Old Timer! What can I do for you?" Sam asked, appearing with a flourish

"I just need to talk to you in private for a moment. Is that alright?" Tenna asked, remaining professional for now

"Huh? Oh sure." Sam said

Tenna nods and leads Sam to a hallway that no one used because it was just for the lightners...like anyone came by anyways.

"So...what did you need to talk about? Is it about how I'm Y/n's favorite" Sam asked, getting abit smug

"Yes" Tenna replied, keeping his cool

"Well, maybe if you were newer, then you could be Y/n's favorite, but alas, you're not. They'll get rid of you eventually. No one likes old things...except for those weird collectors, but even they eventually sell them for money. You won't last long~" Sam says, smug

Tenna just looks at Sam coldly over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. His antennae twitch in irritation. How dare this upstart think that he is Y/n's favorite when he clearly is.

"It's not like they'll ever love you. They clearly love me" Sam said, still a smug bastard

That...caused something inside Tenna to snap. Y/n....doesn't love him? No, that can't be. Y/n has to love him. He's Mr "Ant" Tenna after all....Everyone loves him...Y/n loves him....they have to...If he has to, he will make them love him...everyone loves TV after all...

"Hey...what are you doing with that crowbar?" Sam asked, now wary

Tenna glances down, noting the crowbar in his hands. He hadn't noticed he had grabbed it, but he can use it. His grip tightens and he looks at Sam. Sam takes a step back, but before he can speak, his screen is broken by the crowbar. Sam crumbles to the ground, shaking. Tenna looks down at him, his own screen dim as he clutches the crowbar in his hands.

"Y/n will never love you....They'll love me....They will always love me...Everyone loves TV....so they'll love me..." Tenna mutters, slowly dissociating

Sam tries to get up, but the crowbar hits him again, this time in the knees, breaking them. Tenna raises the crowbar and starts to hit Sam with it, the other tv starting to bleed oil until he goes limp. Tenna only stops once he registers what he's done...but instead of being horrified, he is a mix of horrified and...excitement? If he can do this, then he can protect Y/n and make them love him.

Tenna decides to leave Sam there and blame this on a freak accident as he moves one of the lights down onto Sam, being careful not to squish himself. Tenna then leaves and goes to his private room, watching Y/n through his screen, well aware of the other TV being broken. Tenna smiles to himself. A job well done. Y/n will love him...even if he has to force it

[mangled-by-disuse]

talking to friends about The Horrors, specifically the Trumpian Horrors, and, like

the more I consider it, the more I think that the best thing we outside the US can do - for ourselves, for the world, and for America as well - is to just holler to the fucking rooftops that AMERICA IS NOT THE WORLD.

By which I mean:

we do not let politicians, media, and our own social circles convince us that American issues are the only issues worth discussing;

we challenge politicians, media, and our own social circles on the politics of appeasement;

we challenge ourselves on the assumption that laws passed in the US affect us directly, and we do not place ourselves in American shoes;

we focus on our own shit. Not because it's more important, but because we need to remember that it still exists. Our eyes cannot be on the USA while the legislative and political rights in our own countries are eroded from under us.

we look to the rest of the world. We get used to viewing people who don't look like us, talk like us, or even like us as an equal and crucial part of the political landscape.

WE ARE LOUD ABOUT THIS. In politics, in activism, in social contexts, in our own assessment of our own politics, we remember and hold up that America is NOT the centre of the world, and that American hegemony is NOT inevitable.

This is not because I'm trying to undermine American struggles. This is because the Trump administration is strengthened and bolstered by every other country that chooses to suck the cock of American supremacy in the desperate attempt to maintain the last remnants of the old imperial order.

It is up to everyone in the world to challenge that, and to say: yeah, this fucking sucks, and we want America to be better, but we don't need America.

There are other markets. There are other allies and potential allies. There are other global powers (Personally I think we should try to dismantle global powers entirely, but, you know, one battle at a time) and there are other political shifts.

So much of the current rightward swing in the UK, at least, is directly modelled on MAGA to the point that it's the same movement, to the point where the branches of that movement feed power and influence to one another. You know what has consistently been one of the more successful tactics? Fucking reminding people that they are not, in fact, offering solutions to the problems Britain faces, because these are American solutions and we are not America.

idk it feels stupid to say this. it feels stupid to have to point out that Not Everywhere Is America, and it feels even stupider to think that this is something that needs pointing out to the systems of power. But the more I think about it, the surer I am that one of the tentpoles of American power, and therefore of Trump's power (in the US as well as beyond it!) is just... the willingness of so much of the world to say: yeah, sure, everything is America.

WE ARE NOT AMERICA.

AMERICA DOES NOT HAVE TO CONTROL US.

idk. maybe it won't change shit. but maybe yelling that at international power structures loudly enough - making noise about issues that are not American, focusing our efforts outside America, challenging American supremacy on the global stage - is, in fact, the most useful thing we can do.

[ceramicbeetle]

one of the many reasons Aabria is such a good GM is because of the very keen eye she keeps on the social dynamics and interactions that happens at the table and i absolutely Love her for it

[venomgender]

scott cramer worlds best youtuber

[luna-azzurra]

Habits That Reveal Deep Character

(A.K.A. the quiet stuff that says everything without screaming it)

❥ The “I Always Sit Facing the Exit” Quirk They don’t talk about their childhood much, but they always know where the exits are. Every restaurant. Every train. Trauma has muscle memory. Your job is to notice what it’s saying without needing a monologue about it.

❥ The “I Can’t Sleep Until I Hear You Lock the Door” Habit It's not controlling. It's care shaped like paranoia. They say “Goodnight” like it’s casual, but they’re counting the clicks of the lock like a lullaby. Let that show more than “I love you.”

❥ The “I Keep Everything You’ve Ever Given Me” Thing Not just gifts. Receipts with your doodles. The crumpled note you wrote when you were mad. Every bit of you that felt real. It’s borderline hoarder behavior, but also? It’s devotion.

❥ The “I Cook When I’m Sad” Pattern Their world’s falling apart, but suddenly everyone has banana bread. It’s not about food—it’s about control, about creating something warm when everything else is cold. And they won’t say it out loud, but they're asking, “Will you stay?”

❥ The “I Practice Conversations in the Mirror” Secret Before big moments, hard talks, or just answering the phone. They're rehearsing being okay. They're trying to be the version of themselves people expect. That’s not weakness—it’s survival wrapped in performance art.

❥ The “I Fix Other People’s Problems to Ignore My Own” Reflex Everyone calls them “strong,” but no one notices how fast they redirect. “How are you doing though?” they ask, one heartbeat after breaking down. Let your reader see how exhaustion wears a smile.

❥ The “I Never Miss A Birthday” Rule Even for people who forgot theirs. Even for exes. It’s not about being remembered—it’s about being someone who remembers. That’s character.

❥ The “I Clean When I Feel Powerless” Mechanism That sparkling sink? Not about hygiene. That’s grief control. That’s despair in a Clorox wipe. Let it speak volumes in the silence of a spotless room.

❥ The “I Pretend I Don’t Need Help” Lie They say, “I’m fine” like it’s a full stop. But their hands shake when they think no one’s looking. Let your other characters notice. Let someone care, even when they don’t ask for it.

❥ The “I Watch People When They’re Not Watching Me” Curiosity Not in a creepy way. In a poet’s way. In a “who are you when no one’s clapping” way. They love the in-between moments: laughter in elevators, fidgeting before speeches. That's who they are—observers, not performers.