#serena responding

[bunch-of-kalosians]

Hey, hey, an alt me who's actually me. That's surprising.

Really? That's what you lead with? And you say I have no tact.

You don't.

Yes I do and I'll prove it now. Bonjour and hiya alt uses and also alt Shauna. How's it going?

-Calem and Serena (@twinchampionscalemandserena)

Calem: Personally, I think he did fine, all things considered. But yeah, it goes. Not sure I was exactly expecting to run into another me, but uh... y'know. Not every day something like that happens lmao

Serena: Bonjour! We're doing quite well. How about you two?

Shauna: oh hi!! :D!! there's four of them-???

[twinchampionsofkalos]

Serena??? What!! I thought you died @touya-san

[victorfrankingstein]

how does everyone actually feel about Serena Clarke?

[mxstball]

"Zinnia-- happy Palentine's Day,"

It is a greeting that comes with a somewhat awkward embrace on the heroine's end, no thanks to the gifts in both hands. And whatever has she bought her on this day? Why, a bouquet so deliberately put together-- of gracideas, white jasmine, and the flower matching the lorekeeper's namesake in a red hue--, as well as something a little more lavish. A bolo bracelet, white gold with a diamond from a certain Diancie in its centre, surrounded by a halo of clear gems and, of course, a few emeralds in the cardinal directions.

"I don't know if this is really your style, but... what I do know is that you deserve to be spoiled today especially."

"Happy Palentine's Day to you too, love~"

Honestly, a part of her forgot that people celebrate today. Here she thought that she had the jump on Serena by getting something. Unfortunately for her, it appears that Serena was not one to forget. It's a good thing that her Reshiram next to her was holding her gifts. Zinnia accepted Serena's gifts -- a bouquet of flowers from gracideas to white jasmine to zinnias, as well as a fancy bracelet with a diamond, clear gems and emeralds.

"This is--woah." Zinnia was speechless for a while. While it wasn't typically something her style as she's not the fancy type, she was definitely going to wear it more often than she usually would for something like this. Zinnia was bright red in the face for a moment as she tried to come up with the words to say what she wanted to say. "Th--thank you. I... I don't think anyone other than my dad has given me something so nice before. I'll cherish it forever."

After a hug to her love and a quick smooch, it was now Zinnia's turn.

"I got you something, too. I... 'unno if it's anywhere near as fancy as this but--" Zinnia turned to Shiro and gave the Reshiram Serena's gifts so Zinnia could get hers from the dragon. Once she had them, she gave them to Serena. There were four things: a bouquet of flowers -- a mixture of white lilies and bright gracidea flowers. They seemed extremely fresh -- and three statuettes. The first was of the Eon Duo, crafted through smooth stone and meticulously painted. They seemed to be flying around each other and forming a heart shape. The second was of Ho-oh, seemingly perched on a tower. The detail in the feathers and beak seemed just right. The final statuette was of Xerneas, made through meticulous detail both in stature and in color. They all were extremely colorful, bright, and faithful to their real-life counterparts. "Dad, Lacey, and I worked really hard to make these because we'd thought that you'd like them. Lacey and I thought of the Latios and Latias thing and thought it was really graceful and cute, but Rayquaza was strangely insistent on making a Xerneas and a Ho-Oh one. Said something about how fitting it would be. So, we made all three for you. Hope you like them."

@iruludavare

[aura-acolyte]

What does the L in Latios stand for?

Loser, teehee.

Kidding.

[waldorfhistoria]

Actually... why would Serena expect to be invited to Blair’s party, given that she gave Blair no forewarning that she was coming back? Like setting aside the “I ditched you for a year and you have no idea why” subtext, that’s not how party planning works

[serene-elysium]

Normally my calls to my clinic go like: call clinic, i tell them what i need. they confirm my name because I’m calling with the phone number they have on file anyway, so they don’t need to check that. They answer my questions or make an appointment for me. Done. Easy

Today, I called and told the receptionist I needed a prescription refill and I was wondering why it’s taken over 3 days to be approved. The person asked for my number. Weird, but okay. I give my number. She says it’s not on file. Eh? Uh, okay. I ask if she typed it right, I think I should repeat it, but she asks for another number. I decide okay, maybe I also have my home number on my file. I give that. She says okay, that’s on file. Name? I give her my name. She goes quiet. She asks my date of birth. I give it. She mishears me as saying I was born in 88 and gets hesitant; I reiterate NOT ‘88, I’m born in ‘98. She confirms. She starts talking about my brother. I tell her no, I’m calling for me, not my brother. I realise why she’s confused - I say we’re twins and have the same birthday. She starts talking about my brother again. I repeat myself again, and when I say “that’s not my file, we’re twins and have the same birthday” she’s like “that’s very nice” in a bizarrely sarcastic way. I go quiet and request to talk to another receptionist because I’ve never had issues with this before and I’ve been going to this clinic for 10 years now. She says something or other that I don’t remember and I repeat, let’s try my phone number again. She says okay. I repeat it, she gets it right this time. She sees my information. She says I have an appointment in November. I say I know, but I’m calling about my prescription refill. I have to explain to her that it got faxed over, I called the clinic and confirmed yesterday that it WAS received. Today I was just wondering why it’s taken 3 full days for it to get signed and sent back, if there was information that needed to be updated or something, and I was calling to make sure I could fix it before the clinic closes for the weekend...she says she’ll call me back. A complete non-answer. 

That whole mess of an interaction straight up put tears in my eyes. I’ve been off my medication for a few days now (my own fault, I should have requested a refill a week early so that’s defo on me, I just kept forgetting) and I can really feel the dizziness and directionless despair that comes from withdrawal. I shouldn’t have been emotional from that but my god it got to me. Everything feels hard rn.

But if I’m honest I’m also quite frustrated that she was so.....dismissive. Like. Lady. i’m not a liar trying to get private information on my brother. I’m not trying to mess with his medical records, and I’m not someone pretending to be Serena to mess with her records either. I’m Serena. YOU mishearing me constantly doesn’t make ME suspicious, it means you gotta get better at listening. :/

[sereina-archive]

Serena is generally a very fast and responsive texter. Her phone either has its ringtone on, or will be on vibrate, and is never on silent in case someone needs to get a hold of her. Generally, she doesn’t take more than an hour to text someone back if they text her. If she’s going to be busy, or doesn’t feel like having a conversation with people, she will let them know when she replies and will leave it like that. She does have her moments where she doesn’t feel like being social, but she still tries to communicate that so she doesn’t instill needless worry.

She’s extremely good about keeping her phone charged, generally charging it each night as she goes to bed. Along with that, she keeps a rechargable battery pack in her bag for the off-chance her phone battery is low while she’s out, and she can recharge it that way should she not be near any electrical source.

It is extremely unusual for any text she receives to be left on delivered for more than an hour, unless she’s asleep or is busy. Even texts on read aren’t left that way for long, and she will respond within moments of reading it. If she gets a text, especially multiple in a row, that are left on delivered for a period of over two hours (outside of her normal sleep schedule), then something is extremely wrong.

[genshin-impact-updates]

Chivalrous Shadow, Shrouded in Cloud

"A new resident in the city, you say? Oh, it's Cloud— I mean, Xianyun. Don't be fooled by her usual manner... She's someone you can truly rely on when the going gets tough. If you ever find yourself in trouble, just tell her — I'm sure she'd be willing to help."

— Madame Ping

◆ Name: Xianyun

◆ Title: Passerine Herald

◆ New Resident in Liyue Harbor

◆ Vision: Anemo

◆ Constellation: Grus Serena

Everyone has something to say about Xianyun: "That tall woman with the updone hair," "that bespectacled artisan," or perhaps "that talkative new neighbor." They all say different things, but together they paint a picture of the impression she leaves — of someone who's witty, chatty, warm-hearted, and easy to get along with.

But that's not how Xianyun sees herself. In her own eyes, she's inarticulate, reserved, and unyieldingly proud. Aside from her mastery of mechanics and knack for making all kinds of little trinkets, it's an entirely different image from how others would describe her.

Some curious individuals, seeing how her mannerisms and bearing set her apart from ordinary folk, are convinced that she's a heroine — so they go around trying to uncover her heroic backstory and whether she goes by any other names.

Ask the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's consultant, and with a wave of his hand, he'd say: "Xianyun? We're not well acquainted, but going by her name, she sounds like a good person."

Ask Madame Ping from Yujing Terrace, and she'd nod and reply: "Xian... Oh, Xianyun? We've crossed paths, yes... She's a good person, you know. Once you've met, you'll find that your days seem to go by much more smoothly."

Ask Ganyu, and she'd nod too: "She is a heroine, but a very discreet one — hence why she's living incognito in Liyue Harbor."

Ask Shenhe, and she'd respond pensively: "Xianyun... Of course, she's a master. Whatever you do, you must not offend her."

As it turns out, such speculations are not wrong. There's far more to Xianyun than meets the eye, but those who know the full story are few indeed. If someone was to address her as "Cloud Retainer"... Well, people would know her instantly, and you'd hear a torrent of praise flow her way: "Who doesn't know Cloud Retainer? Noble, brave, loyal, and wise... A most worthy friend if ever there was one!"

So try asking Xianyun herself then: "Are you a heroine? Surely you're not... an adeptus?"

You catch the new resident just as she's working on her latest invention, her pride and joy — what she calls an "Exquisite Mini Broth Pot." She's too absorbed to take the question seriously, so she simply waves it off as a load of old nonsense and tells you not to bother her while she's busy.

As for what exactly an Exquisite Mini Broth Pot is... No one really knows, other than having been told that it brings out flavors much better than a regular soup pot. Likewise, none would know how profoundly it might impact Liyue Harbor's future gastronomic development. Suffice to say — if Xianyun says it'll be impressive, it'll be impressive alright.

[arlertwhore]

draft #1: sneaky link series, pt. 7

completed draft - not a part, a draft - meaning there is technically no pt 7. i have no issues with people taking it as pt 7though.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.

warning(s): angsty, argument / breakup, fluff, smut, scissoring, pussy eating, fingering, spitting, hair-pulling, unedited.

synopsis: Despite your admission of feelings, Paige still wants to keep you as her secret. However, as the threat of discovery looms and you grow close with someone else, she jealously realizes she doesn't want anyone to think you don't belong to her. Even if you remain a secret, you are undeniably hers.

word count: 7.1k (what happens when ana's creativity fights to not fight)

Author Note: first ever draft i'm dropping AH! i'm so weirded out that i'm leaving this series unfinished (for now) and posting something this trash, but i think its what best for me. like i said, this isn't an official pt . 7, it's just a draft, but i have no issue if i get an inbox we can talk about like its an off pt 7 yk?? you guys are also so free to leave ideas for pt. 8 and 7 in my dms, inbox, etc.. so if i return i can get back into the groove!

Paige, after a week of ghosting, suddenly texts: "Good News", and despite being frustrated with her, you're desperate for a study break in studying for your last exam of the year and some positivity, so you quickly respond: "?"

She tells you her old friend from Minnesota, Serena, is in town for the week at a hotel while her soccer team plays Connecticut, and she's allowing Paige to use the hotel room while she's away due to her losing a bet.

You respond with a terse "Cool", and Paige's response hangs in the air, marked by those ominous three dots. After an agonizing pause, her next text arrives: "See you by tomorrow night?"

And although you're betraying every emotion you've had at the frustration of paige ghosting you the whole week, you say, "yeah."

You felt like a total idiot for believing that perhaps now that she'd confessed, Paige would stop running from it. You should've been wiser, given your history with Paige, but the thrilling days that followed your vulnerable confession of feelings deceived you. They were a dizzying whirlwind of happiness, lulling you into a false sense of security, and masking the reality of her true intentions.

You and Paige had a fast romance, resembling a newlywed couple's bliss. You strolled hand-in-hand through the neighborhood, enjoyed family movie nights, and explored the mall together. She even surprised you with intimate gifts, like delicate lingerie, which she eagerly removed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those days were filled with laughter, love, and a sense of security, free from the fear of rejection that once plagued you. Your connection deepened so much that Paige even let you take her with her strap, a thrilling milestone in your relationship.

The experience was magical, but as the school week began, reality hit hard, and Paige, as she always did, resumed the cycle. She seemed to have perfected the art of creating distance. Her texts became short and infrequent, she stopped answering your calls, and just ghosted you.

You were crushed: you made it clear on the week she did ghost you that you hated when she did that, and the fact she ignored your pleas and chose to cowardly avoid everything was heartbreaking. But at least you had your new roommate, Maggie, to distract you. After growing up with a wayward sister, Maggie was your first taste of what a healthy sibling relationship could be like. She was everything you weren’t—energetic, popular, outgoing, and the life of every party—your polar opposite, and her presence brought a refreshing contrast to your life.

She filled your evenings with wild stories of campus drama and an endless supply of party interesting anecdotes. And also, piping hot gossip that you were more than amused by until one night, when Maggie stumbled into your room back from a party, reeking of alcohol and giggling uncontrollably.

"Paige Bueckers, aka Ms. Hollywood, is allegedly hooking up with some mysterious girl on campus who claims to be straight."

Your heart skipped a beat: you had never claimed to straight before. 

And also, both of your entire life's focus had been on your careers, and this rumor had potentially to be extremely damaging to your professional prospects. Especially for you — you had worked tirelessly to build a respectable image, and the thought of being linked to Paige's scandalous behavior was daunting.

You played it cool, dismissing the rumor with a nonchalant laugh: "Oh, really? People say crazy things." But inside, you were turmoil-stricken, unable to reveal the truth to Maggie due to Paige's strict secrecy and dislike of her for being a blabbermouth.

Maggie shrugged, "Well, Paige is in trouble; social media's onto her, and they're searching for her mystery girl. Apparently, they even go clubbing together." Your heart sank, knowing this was all too true. As exams approached, you pushed aside the rumors and pretended to be too busy to care, all while secretly suffering in silence, worried about the potential fallout on your career.

So, when you pulled up to "Serena's" hotel the next day, really Paige's place, you were exhausted, beaten down by her behavior, the looming rumors, and the fact that you had probably bombed your exam that night. You couldn't have been acting more out of character, bursting through the hotel door and pushing past Paige, who stood awaiting your acknowledgment in the foyer.

"Is there anything to drink? Maggie drank every last drop of alcohol in the house." you called out, voice laced with desperation and a hint of frustration, as if the scarcity of alcohol was the final straw in a long series of disappointments.

"Me?" she whispered softly as she crept up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around your waist with a gentle kiss to your neck. "Or Rose. In the fridge. You're lucky S I'm sharin'; S got it for us tonight." The warmth of her embrace and the sweetness of her kiss sent a buzz down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the fact she was everything wrong these days too.

"Oh, is that why you've been ignoring me? For Rose, Serena —because Paige, if we're being honest," you said, pulling away from her and striding over to the fridge to grab the coveted bottle, "I don't like sharing either."

There's a tense and awkward momentary silence as you stretch to reach the glass from up-top the shelf, and Paige approaches, her hand resting on your lower back, and her breath on your scalp. "We've both been busy - I'm not ignoring you, alright?" she says in a low, defensive murmur, her gentle touch sparking a flutter in your chest, making it hard to maintain your frustration.

Together, you manage to retrieve the glasses, but her gentle gesture  has already disarmed you, and the tension between you shifts, your  defenses slowly dropping, a fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her.

"I miss you even when we're together." you admit, looking up at her with a vulnerable gaze, your eyes locking onto hers as you bare your soul, the weight of your words conveying the constant fear of losing her, the ache of knowing that external pressures and expectations can tear you apart at any moment, and the desperation to hold on to her, even when she's right in front of you.

"I've had the worst fucking week, and- I spent most of my time in bed and not studying, thinking about why I could make you confess, but not... not stay with me." The pain in your voice as you reveal the turmoil that's been consuming you, and the desperate desire for her presence in your life is felt mutually.

"Okay," you whisper shakily, feeling tears prick at the way Paige looks at you, mutually, like she feels the same, but where you can see her resistance up still. And you know you'll never win. You have to stop thinking you can.

"I'll drink my feelings away, and then we're gonna fuck to get it off my mind, and we're never gonna bring this up again." your voice cracks as you surrender to the defeat, seeking temporary escape. 

You pour the rose in both your glasses, and Paige stands back watching, knowing that this is exactly what's happening. She's suppressing her inner fear and has no choice but to acquiesce, and not say anything because she told you her rules at the beginning, and fears if she says anything, it'll be from her heart because it hurts her as much as it hurts you.

She's trapped in her own emotions, unable to express her true feelings, and resigned to silently follow the script you've both agreed upon.

"Cheers," you say, raising your glass, and she looks confused, but reluctantly clinks your glasses together and watches through a slow sip as you down it and then pour yourself some more. The alcohol burns your throat, but you welcome the numbness, trying to dull the ache in your chest.

Paige's gaze lingers, melancholy, but more neutral, as she silently acknowledges the change in you, trying to read to lightheartedly conversate. 

"I see Maggie's introduced you to the lifestyle. You guys still getting close?'' her voice is subtly clad with a hint of detachment, an attempt to shift the focus away from the tension between you, and onto a more casual topic, but her underlying concern and curiosity are both still evident.

You nod, your eyes focalled on the alchol in your glass. "Yeah, she- we're thinking of doing a double date thing and I was gonna ask you before - y'know, but I guess it's pointless even though she already kinda knows."

You mention the fact - y'know - that you guys just suffered a breakup without even being together in a very odd manner, and that that is the weirdest thing ever. Well, to Paige, the second strangest thing of the night - the third is that how you broached the subject courageously in the first place, and the first: "Maggie knows?" she repeats, "Did you tell her?" a slight accusatory tone to her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sets her glass down, her gaze fixed intently on yours, as if searching for any sign of betrayal or deceit.

"Everything." you whisper, jokingly confessing and shaking your head at her ridiculous pissed face (that's also sorta hot). 

Paige glares back at you, serious and you furrow your brows, feeling the alcohol hitting you already. "Shit, what do they put in here?" you ask, checking the label for the alcohol volume, when Paige snatches it out of your reach and demands, "I'm serious, Y/N, what'd you-" 

"Nothing!" you interrupt, exploding, "Nothing, Paige, there is fucking nothing to tell Maggie because all of this," you notion back and forth between you two, face-to-face, "Is nothing! What would I tell her, huh? That you don't text me for days on end and shit like that?" Your words spill out in a frenzy, the alcohol fueling your emotional release in the opposite sense you wanted it to.

Paige hates how that's supposed to comfort her, but instead makes her feel belittled and trivialized as she processes, now reaching for her own glass to forget about what you just told her - that you guys are "nothing." The word stings, a harsh reminder of the boundaries she's set, and the apparent insignificance of their connection in your eyes. She takes a swig, the rose souring her throat, as she struggles to reconcile the conflicting emotions within her.

Pretty soon, because you guys are weird and perfect for each-other, you're in bed and dealing with your conflicting emotions in a thoroughly unproductive way.

Paige kisses down your neck, hands roaming over you with a fervor in her eyes like she had the day at the bar, but now, times ten, and mixed in with something new. As she's stripping off your pants and kissing down your legs, she's still doing that thing where she murmurs vague stuff she knows she can deny if you try to confront her later. "So pretty, baby," she whispers, spreading your legs apart and kissing your calf, "My pretty baby." If not for the desire you have to get fucked out of your own brain, you would probably tell Paige to stop entirely or just stop saying that, but you can't, especially because it at least feels good to pretend that all just didn't happen.

By now, you've had plenty of rose, a lot more than Paige has, and under the spell of alcohol, every sensation she evokes in you feels better than the last. The room spins, and your senses blur, but Paige's touch is the one thing that feels lucid, the one thing that makes sense in this haze of emotions and alcohol.

Before Paige can put her mouth to use on you, the bedroom door is bursted open, and the once muffled call of her name that you're too tipsy to register becomes audible. "Paige! Bro, practice is cancelled, let's go-" she suddenly crashes in, who you can only assume is Serena, and walks in on the compromising sight and exclaims, "Oh shit!" standing there in awe as Paige scrambles for your clothes to cover yourself, furious, "Get out!"

She storms, jumps out of bed and slams the door in her face. The sudden movement makes your head spin, and you wince, the loudness reeling in your head from the alcohol and the abrupt interruption.

When Paige sees you lying still, eyes shut in what looks like anguish, she rushes over to you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she's- she's obviously not supposed to be here as you just heard and-" - "It's fine." you interrupt, gathering your clothes hastily and getting out of bed. Once again, Paige has let you down, and it annoys the both of you equally. "Call me," you say, your tone indifferent, "Or don't."

You go to open the door and rush away before Paige can stop you, but Serena awaits on the other side, and you pause, dissecting her.

You were going to be jealous over this girl until you realize she's like Paige, just a little less tall, a lot less blonde, and skinnier. She isn't her type and she's masculine too, to your delight, and not because of Paige and her not being compatible, but at the fact its your type.

"Sorry," she says cheekily, "I thought she was here to take a break from the team." 

Serena smirks, amused. "I mean, I guess she was." and her eyes linger at the hickey on your neck. The implication is clear, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you try to brush it off, the alcohol still clouding your judgment.

"Y/N," you laugh, smiling, "I'm sorry, I- I drank all your rose tonight, and you just saw me kind of naked, so probably not a great way to start things off." you chuckle, trying to play off the awkwardness,  and she smiles, exposing pearly whites, and seeming to appreciate your honesty and humor.

"Oh trust me, I couldn't mind less." and you can't figure out which way she means it before she continues again, "But... if you had too much rose, I don't just wanna send you driving home with a stranger. And better yet,  by yourself. You're welcome to stay the night if you want to." her tone is genuine, and you hesitate for a moment, weighing your options, before nodding in agreement, grateful for her kindness.

Paige is forced to watch her Serena clearly court you over the night, dressing you in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, and giving you some cold water as you guys converse on the couch in the living room. She does need time to herself after the alcohol begins to wear off and she begins to think about the consequences of her actions, the weight of her emotions, and the reality of her situation with you, but she can't do that logically while hearing you giggle and laugh at everything Serena says.

When she emerges from the bedroom, realizing she can get a rise out of Serena too, you both glance at her like she's intruding once she plops down at the couch in the living room.  Serena laughs. "Yo, are you- you staying here tonight?" she asks, her tone playful, but also hinting at a sense of not wanting Paige too, as if she's making her rethink her choice, and maybe even staking a claim on you, much to Paige's dismay.

"Well, yeah, that's the plan for the week, S," she says, eyes darting between you two, "Unless you guys want the house all to yourselves." Paige's tone is laced with a hint of sarcasm and a dash of curiosity, as if she's testing the waters, gauging the dynamics between you and Serena, and perhaps even hoping to stir up a reaction from one or both of you.

"Maybe we do," you say, leaning back on your couch, and Serena smirks, Paige rolling her eyes. 

"Well, yeah, we're learning lots about each-other. She's a huge soccer fan, and I'm a soccer player." 

Paige scoffs, shaking her head and laughing, "You hate sports. You're a nerd, what do you mean you're a-" - "I am." you interject, "You just don't care enough to know that." you shoot back, Paige's expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if she can't fathom you pretending to be something you're not.

Serena glances at between you both, intrigued, and curious. "So, uhh...before I ask what I do, what are you guys?" she asks as if she's navigating a sensitive topic, and her eyes dart between you and Paige, seeking clarification on your relationship status.

"It's complicated," and "Nothing," you both say in simultaneously, and when Paige's eyes narrow and she falls silent, you learn that the word "nothing" triggers her. The air is thick with tension, and Serena's eyes widen, sensing the underlying dynamics at play.

"Nothing?" she raises an eyebrow at Paige. She pauses. "Uhh... well on that case, why don't all three of us go get dinner tomorrow? Paige can bring somebody!" she suggests, hoping by the proposal, it will soften the blow of tension. 

"And... And so can you, even though I'd prefer if you don't." You smile warmly at her attempt to flirt, and also, keep things equal. "What about my friend Maggie Bowman? She's practically my sister, I think you'll love her. She plays soccer too." You offer, trying to lighten the mood and include Maggie, finally, in your real life.

Paige realizes thats how you must've been able to keep up a sports conversation for so long. "Maggie? I mean, c'mon, I-" "I'd love that!" Serena exclaims, "Who're you bringin' Paige? Maybe another hot model girl?" she teases, referencing you, who does that stupid giggle again and it takes Paige all her might not to lash out as she calmly responds, "I don't know, Azzi maybe." 

Serena nods. "That'd work." and Paige grimaces at the fact she'd try for her best-friend too.

The rest of the night is a blur and you come down from the alcohol, all eventually falling asleep on the couches, yet you awaken in bed, next to Paige, like you had become used to as of a week ago. The familiarity of her presence, the scent of her skin, and the warmth of her body engulfing yours stir up a mix of emotions, from comfort to guilt, as you try to process the events of the previous night and the current state of your relationship.

Your body may crave the comfort of her closeness, but your mind knows that giving in to these desires will only lead to more heartache and confusion in the end, so you nudge her. "Off, Paige." you whisper, your voice gentle but firm, trying to extricate yourself from her embrace without hurting her feelings, and subsequently yours.

"Hmm?" she murmurs from sleep, groggily, "No, stay," she slurs, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, as she tightens her hold on you. She has a bad sleeptalking habit, one that you've struggled with in the past to understand if she's just stupid and asleep or genuine.

It's both. And it also seems like old patterns are dying hard. You force yourself up, you exit her arms, and book an Uber back to your house, where Maggie is waiting at the doorstep with coffee. "Where were you all night? Gosh, I was worried sick, I called everybody you knew. Fuck, your friends are dicks." She scolds, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance, as she hands you a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your disheveled appearance.

"Serena's house," you reply, "This friend of mine. She's in for the week while her Soccer team plays Connecticut." 

Maggie's eyes widen. "What? Like The Minnesota Stars playing Connecticut this week? As in the Serena Davis?" She asks, her voice laced with excitement and disbelief, as if she can't quite wrap her head around the fact that you spent the night at the hotel of a famous soccer player.

"I think," you smile, glancing down at your clothes, "I didn't catch her last name, but these are all hers. She's sweet." Maggie's jaw drops, her eyes bulging in utter shock, before she lets out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down like a teenager at a rock concert. "OH. MY. GOD! You're a groupie! You're a total groupie!" she accuses, laughing and teasing, her hands on her hips. You nod, playing along, "Would this groupie still be one if she was inviting you to dinner with Serena? And Paige Bueckers? And maybe Azzi Fudd?" You ask, grinning mischievously, as Maggie continues to freak out, still in disbelief.

Up until 8:00, the confirmed meetup time, is when Maggie energizes.

She talks endlessly about how you're basically living a double life, how you're "rubbing shoulders with soccer royalty", and asks you what it's like to be with Serena, her questions ranging from serious to absurd. On the drive to the restaurant, you have to lecture Maggie on proper etiquette, reminding her to behave herself, not to fan-girl too hard, and to please, for the love of all things good, not ask Serena for a jersey or autograph.

"Just be chill," you advise, shaking your head in amusement as you walk into the restaurant together. You can feel Maggie's excitement radiating like a force, and you know she's struggling to contain her inner fan-girl. You shoot her a warning glance, silently reminding her to play it cool, as you spot Serena, Paige, and Azzi waiting for you at a table, Serena looking radiant and entirely too comfortable in her celebrity skin.

You underestimate just how famous the girls are, especially Serena, but when even your waiter is a little starstruck to see the three of them, telling them each she's seen them in sports, you realize that you're dining with genuine sports royalty.

You each spend the dinner laughing. Maggie and Azzi talk for some time, both self-proclaimed party-girls with mutual friends, and Paige, you, and Serena—mainly Paige and Serena—do their own thing up until you guys have finished eating and chatting, at which point Serena pays the bill with a flourish, her celebrity status evident in the discreet yet deferential service you received all evening. As you prepare to leave, the waiter lingers, still starstruck, and Serena, Paige, and Azzi graciously autograph a napkin for her before you exit.

The night ends with Maggie inviting you all to a party that you and Paige decline, however, Serena opts to go. "Might as well make the most of it while I'm in town." she says with a grin, "But... if you wanna stay at the hotel, Y/N, we'll all see you guys tonight." She winks, eyes sparkling as she ganders at you hungrily.

Azzi, the only person besides you and Paige who knows your history, a member of the "Paige needs to stay focused" club, and also her best-friend knows exactly what'll happen if you guys are left alone together, and once you say, "I think I will, S," Azzi is quick to interject, "Sure you BOTH don't wanna join us? I mean, Y/N, I remember the first time I met you. At a party." she teases you playfully, coaxing a smile out of you.

"And you remember how I embarrassed myself, Azzi?" you ask, laughing. "How could I forget?" the girl chuckles, "I wanna hear this story tonight," Maggie chimes in, and Serena agrees, "Me too." before Azzi just sighs, knowing there's nothing further she can do, and relents with a playful warning. "Just don't get too distracted, you two. We'll see you tonight."

You don't think you'll get distracted as they disappear into the distance, waiting for their Uber, and you and Paige head towards your car, walking down the street together in silence. The only sounds are the crickets chirping and the occasional passing car, but the air is thick with an underlying tension between you and Paige until you speak up.

"Can you drive? I'm too tired, I wanna take a nap." you ask Paige, tossing her your keys. She catches the keys with a hesitant smile, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she nods. "You done being mad at me?" she asks, her voice soft, playful, and a little vulnerable, like she's feeling her way through the moment, trying to gauge if the chill between you has started to return.

"I was never mad at you," you say with a shrug, avoiding her eyes and sounding utterly nonchalant. "I was mad at myself." Your tone is detached, like you're dismissing the whole thing, and your gaze drifts away from hers, leaving a sense of distance between you.

She decides not to go there with you. "So, Maggie's actually chill," she says, changing the subject, her tone light and conversational. "It's kinda weird it's all falling into place now even though we're not, y'know, 'friends' anymore." her words hang in the air, not probing or accusing, just stating a fact.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs, continuing, "Well, Azzi just accepted the fact I'm staying at a hotel with you, which means they all will because she's my best friend. I like Maggie. You like Azzi. And the net is catching on."

You chuckle, amused, and she smiles, playfully teasing. You can't help but think that if you two were still close, she wouldn't be so nonchalant about this situation. It's as if she's only comfortable with this all coming to you both at once because you're no longer under her control.

The thought crosses your mind that sometimes, it takes losing something to realize its value, and you wonder if she's come to appreciate you only now that you're no longer there. You have to remind her you aren't, because with the way her eyes scan your body, your dress, her favorite color on you, black, accentuating your shape perfectly before she licks her lips, adjusting her gray Nike tech, its obvious.

"I do have to say, I like Serena. How come you never mentioned this 'friend' of yours was hot and also really talented?" you laugh, a low throaty sound, and raise a waggling eyebrow that makes Paige herself chuckle smally.

With her laughter, her inability to go there with you ever, you don't expect it at all when she looks you straight in the eye, and boldly smiles, "No you don't. You like me? Remember? Back at your parents' at the park?" there's a dash of challenge to her tone, as if daring you to admit the truth, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint that makes your heart race.

And just like that, you fall back in.

You slip up in your words. "The car's here, Paige," but you swallow the last part, jumbling it into, "C'mere Paige," instead of repeating what you had actually meant to say. Your voice is struck with want, your brain foggy with the familiar haze of passion, as you pull her closer, your hands roaming over her body like they used to, like no time has passed at all.

Within seconds, you're inside of your car, making out with Paige as her big hands grasp your hips, and you can't at all believe yourself one bit — that you're doing it again — that Azzi was right — and letting her fuck her way back into your life again, but you did have unfinished business.

And plus, now, with it all out of the way — you didn't mind just being casual, your resistance crumbling like dust as her lips devour yours, the familiar spark between you, consuming all rational thought.

"Fuck, I-... I never wanna see you like that again, do you hear me?" she growls again, staring intensely with her hand gripping your tits, spilling out the top of your dress. "Never," she repeats firmly and pulls you back in roughly by your ass, making you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you fiercely, tongue claiming yours.

Luckily for you guys, the deserted streets are quiet and your windows have a tint. It would be a shame for anybody to witness how Paige pulls you over her lap in the driver's seat, pulling your dress down and popping your tit into her mouth, sucking on you with hungry groans, tongue flicking against your nipple as she murmurs, "You like that?"

It's obvious in the way your body responds to hers, hips bucking against her thigh, and how you moan, "Y-Yes, shit." She holds your hips firmly, guiding you back and forth sensually, and due to how wet you are, she can feel you soak her knee through her sweatpants. She softly whispers into your ear, "No panties, huh? Of course, such a slut," and she grabs your hair, forcing your head to tilt back as she suckles on your neck. "Let me show Serena who you belong to."

Those times you knew Paige would flat out ignore you or deny it when you brought up her possessiveness and control during sex, were far behind you because you knew she couldn't now, and it was clear she didn't want to, and it was the hottest thing ever.

Her passion and intensity were undeniable, and you were swept up in the fervor of the moment, loving every second of her unbridled desire.

Once she's done doing that, you can't take it. "Wait, I-.. home Paige home, it's too tight in here." Your voice is laced with desperation, pleading with her to stop or to slow down, but your words are overtaken by her intense kisses, your body betraying your mind as you succumb to her fervent touch, the confines of the car suffocating you.

You don't know how you guys even manage getting home: the want is that much. You have so much need in your body that you do the most reckless thing ever known to mankind. As Paige slams on the accelerator, you spread your legs and slip your fingers down between your thighs, rubbing on your clit, in your wetness that makes the lewdest sounds ever, second to when you moan her name breathlessly. "Paigeee, fuck…! Wish this was you, P, mmph, gosh."

She tries not to glance and she tries not to react, but when you extend your arm and put your hand right across her lap, fucking your own fingers into you with wet noises and desperate whimpers before you give her a taste of it, it's like she's possessed.

You're rushing through the hotel to get back to the room, and in the elevator, more kissing continues, but at the door, you guys tap in and are making out furiously, for what feels like hours, hotly, both stepping out of your clothes in the corridor.

Your hands are all over each other once you crash in, rekindling the passion that never quite faded as you stumble into the room, locked in a embrace that's hard to break.

You unzip Paige's sweater and remove her Nike tech pants and are upset to find the truth about layering being true now of all times -- underneath, she has a black sports bra and blue basketball shorts.

You drop to your knees, sliding them down her legs, and your mouth is on her cunt in a flash. She's insanely wet—probably the wettest you've ever had her before in all your years of fucking.

"Do I have to be standing for this?" she asks through gritted teeth, and you realize that she's complimenting your head game like that, and smile, smirking as you look up at her and delving into her pussy with a strong flick of your tongue against her clit a couple of times, moaning hungrily.

The teasing gets her weak, her knees buckling.

Your words, your touch, your gaze—all of it has her surrendering, her defenses disappearing as she gives in to the tension that's been building between you two.

It's been ages since you've gotten to do this—melt Paige on your tongue, and she tastes like heaven, and sounds like it too. When you focus on her clit, parting her folds with your fingers to angle your tongue and flick at it, she whimpers.

Your touch is so, so perfect it doesn't even feel real, and though none of it does, Paige can't help but savor the moment. She gazes down at your face, looking deep into your eyes as she grinds her hips against you, in a frenzy riding your face as she moans loudly.

"Fuck, you're so good," she groans, pulling you back up by your hair and onto your feet, eyes blazing. "Tell me you wouldn't do this for Serena. For any other girl," she demands, tugging your hair in a way that turns you on intensely as you murmur, "Just you. Always only you." And she's relentless, spitting into your mouth, her saliva thick and warm, before she pushes your face back into her cunt, making everything a wet mess through the singular action.

You pull back and marvel at her pink folds. "So beautiful," you whisper against her cunt, entranced with desire and by the way her pussy glistens and gleams, sparkles, and you suckle her clit like a connoisseur.

The signs she's going to climax emerge: her eyes shut tightly, her abs contract repeatedly, and her face turns red and redder by the moment as you work your jaw faster, slipping your finger up into her entrance, but she stops you with a yank of your head backwards.

"Seriously, I'll fall over if we—c'mon, let's go to the bed." she pants.

This time, Paige remembers to lock the door behind her before she slips in between your legs, dangling her chain enticingly in your face. "Still wet?" she softly and earnestly inquires, and you chuckle at her ridiculous charm. "Yeah, of course."

She kisses you deeply, hands roaming eagerly. "Lemme check," she whispers, and then she slides up your dress, exhaling in awe at the sight because you're genuinely dripping.

"So fuckin' perfect, fuck," her warm breath against your stomach gives you chills, and you twitch slightly in her embrace, prompting her hand to fly to your hipbone, anchoring you with a desperate gaze, afraid you might slip away. "N-no," she stammers, her voice trembling, "No, just... just stay like this, just like this."  With lustfully hazy eyes, she closes them as she nuzzles her nose against your clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. "Ah, Paige-!" you yelp, and she's quick to hush you.

"Shhh, angel, please," she whispers, her eyes meeting yours fleetingly. "Please," she repeats, more firmly this time, before her tongue teases at your clit carefully - like she just wants a small taste.

The shamelessness in her begging — begging for you to be complicit with her, coupled with her mouth, it all makes your head spin.

When you nod, silently giving into her, you watch as she indulges in you, moaning at the faint taste of you on her tongue before she withdraws. "You taste amazing," she mumbles, "Just for me."

Your eyebrows furrow at her words, arousing you further, soaking you thoroughly and making you squirm once more, much to her dismay. "Stay still," she instructs firmly, pausing. "Stay still or you won't get anything out of this… I could do this all night, I promise you."

It took you back to when you first met Paige and she told you the exact same thing. You didn't believe her at first, and then she ended up not letting you cum for half an hour, her fingers inside you changing with every stroke, LITERALLY keeping you on edge.

Your hands laced into her hair, and you tugged lightly. "'s what you get, you bitch… so fuckin' mean to me," you teased, knowing exactly how to get her where you needed her, just like she'd gotten you to where she needed you for what you were about to do. "Serena'd be fucking me good by now. She almost did last night before you came out on the couch."

That was true. You weren't just saying it, and you both knew it. That was true.

"Is that so?"

In moments, you were now both naked, her hands gripping your ass and tits eagerly. Her kisses were urgent and messy as she undressed you, her lips assaulting your neck with hungry fervor. "I'm going to fuck that out of you," she declared, her voice filled with need, her breath heating your skin. "I can't get enough of you."

"Do it."

Paige complied, her hands gently kneading your breasts as she positioned herself between your legs. You gasped softly as she settled against you, the heat of her body melding with yours as she aligned your cunts precisely. The room seemed to fade away as you focused on the exquisite friction between you, the heat intensifying as Paige hooked her leg around your thigh in a sense, drawing you closer with each movement. Her voice was a whisper against your calf, filled with need as she questioned, "Feel my clit, baby? Feel how wet I am for you?"

You whine, overwhelmed. "You're so wet, P, fuck." She had your leg bent back towards your head, her slick heat gliding against yours as she moved forward, inhaling sharply at the exquisite friction between you.

She smirked down at you. "Fuck, you're my slut, baby," she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her body closer to yours.

With each powerful thrust of her hips, you could see the subtle flexing and rippling of muscles beneath her skin, a testament to her arousal. Her voice was heavy with desire as she lifted your leg higher, craving deeper access. "Fuck me back, baby, come on. Just like that." the last part a near whine as you appeased, meeting her every grind with a fervent thrust of your hips.

"God, you're so wet," she whimpered, biting onto her bottom lip to stifle her moans, "Fucking dripping, aw.. shittt." in the break, she's panting, breathing fast breaths into your ear, and then it falls silent.

The sound that fills the air between you two once it does was raw— carnal. It had grown louder as you complied, truly fucking her back, your clits sliding against each other frenziedly, eliciting a wet sound that mingled with the rhythmic clapping of your skin. Unable to stifle it, a sigh of satisfaction escaped you, breaking the silence. "So deep, Paige," you grunted softly, reaching up to fondle her firm tits, her eyes fluttering shut as she quickened her pace, urging you to keep up.

"Don't… do not fucking stop," your voice cracked with pleasure, urgent and needy without care. "Then fuckin', ohh," testing her resolve, you pinch her nipples mid-sentence, and they perk up, practically begging to be sucked. Her voice trembles so invitingly that your mouth waters.

"Then fuckin' keep up with me, ma. You can do it, angel," she encouraged, brushing your hair from your face just to look you with her glossy from determination, and then she's crying out, "Fuckk, yes!" as her hips buck against yours snugly. You're just about to ask what has her so riled up when you feel it— her nails digging into your skin at the sensation of your clit, rubbing hard against hers and pulsating, driving her insane and making her lose control. It makes you shake with pleasure. It was all just perfect — Paige never fucked you like this often just because in her own words, she didn't like sounding like a bitch.

Moaning like a girl. And... she always warned that she couldn't hold back when it came to your pussy. She'd always lose control if she took you like this, and she knew you secretly liked it when she did.

It was hot watching her internally battle the side of herself that wanted to hold the power and the side that wanted to fuck you stupid and give you all her cum.

Nevertheless, she's spilling more arousal from her hole into the mix, and the glide just gets smoother and smoother, like water on water.

You push your hips up harder, grunting with each forceful thrust, and Paige sounds like she's exerting herself at the gym, groaning gruffly as she fucks you relentlessly, babbling about how badly she wants you to cum in her.

"You do? You want it?" you tease, and she's quick to nod her head vigorously, hair flying free from its bun as she moves. "Mhm," spitting down between you both and pleading, "I want your cum so badly, baby, please give it to me, please let me have it, please make me- make me cum, shit you're gonna-"

Her eyes squeezed shut and she moaned deeply, hips bucking, signaling her impending climax. "Look at me," you urged, "Look at me, Paige, I want to cum, I want to give it to you, look at me."

When she forces her eyes open, glistening with tears, she freezes on the spot at the sight of your tits bouncing and clapping together rhythmically, the way you bite your bottom lip, and how desperate you sound once you climax at the exact same time as her, calling out her name hoarsely. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Paige, oh—! Oh fuckkk, yes!"

She's whining and crying out listlessly as she collapses over your body, muscles contracting as she spills onto you, and with each slow movement, her cunt feels like glue against yours, so much so that you tremble.

Your skin sticks to each other, a mixture of sweat and arousal making it feel almost impossible to separate, and before you can offer to clean her up again like you so desperately want to — to finish what you started earlier and have her cum on your tongue, a firm knock is heard on your door.

"Guys?!" shouts Maggie, "What the fuck are you doing in there?"

Paige is so thoroughly fucked out that she can't move or speak or react, even though her worst fear has come true, and Maggie knows.

You shake your body, responding cautiously, and inadvertly shaking Paige in the process. "Peanut Butter?" you say. "Yeah?" she manages timidly and you press your hands on her waist, moving her gently, only for her to shudder at the sole movement. 

You chuckle at her sensitivity and general posterior as you disclose, "Secret's out," with a humorous whisper.

And to your collective surprise, realizing Serena is back too, she responds resolutely.

"Good."

MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: i think you just witnessed the fact i can’t write angst — or maybe it’s just the creative slumping idk man show all your fav writers some love it’s rly tough out here lol! as always i am now gonna beg for you to interact with me because ily all sm - ana. ALSO TY FOR NEARLY 900 FOLLOWERS WTF!! love u all my cutiemooties, followers, anons 🤍

[bunch-of-kalosians]

What is yalls opinion on Lysandre :3

Calem: Hmm... let's see. What do we think of the genocidal maniac who tried, on multiple occasions, to kill all three of us?

Serena: Calem, be nice.

He does have a point, though. Lysandre did try several times to kill us, and that's before we even talk about the attempt he made on the world at large. If you ask me, there's very little I agree with Lysandre completely on. Yes, there's corruption all throughout Kalos (and frankly the rest of the world, if we look at organizations like Macro Cosmos or Team Rocket), but I think that's more at the hands of the rich letting that power go to their heads than any sort of intrinsic ugliness or anything like that.

So, obviously, wiping out everyone except the rich is not a good solution.

Shauna: i think he was earnestly trying to make the world a better place!! just- going about it the complete wrong way :(

so what serena said

Calem: ... yeah-

[twinchampionsofkalos]

no, she adopted me along with dahlia and Bentley and they're all getting married

kinda confusing, I know

-@water-pokemon-appreciator

(I hit my post limit, that's why I am sending this as an ask)

Ah, good to know. Anyways, your mom said you have all the gay symptoms.

[theshift]

The Deal

It all started when I moved to a new city after college. I was lucky enough to land an entry-level job in HR, but the pay was dismal. Still, it was a fresh start—leaving my family and friends behind to carve out a new life. I knew that making friends quickly would be key to adjusting to this new chapter of my life, or I'd end up feeling pretty isolated. Fortunately, I hit it off with a coworker who invited me to play basketball at a local community group, and that's where I met Marco.

He caught my eye immediately—a man in his mid-forties, tall, fit, with a commanding presence. I played it cool, waiting for my coworker to introduce us. "Marco, meet my new friend Lukas," my coworker said. "He just moved here." Marco gave me a firm handshake, grinning. "Glad to have you, Lukas. But I’ve got one question—are you any good?"

I smirked, trying to play it cool. "Well, I guess you're about to find out."

I was humbled pretty quickly. Basketball was still new to me, and it showed. But Marco didn’t seem to care. Throughout the game, I’d catch him glancing at me, more interested in me than the game itself. As the game wrapped up, he called out smugly, "All talk for someone who didn’t even score once!" Exhausted and out of my depth, I just laughed. Afterward, Marco introduced me to his wife, Serena. They had been happily married for 21 years, since right out of college. It was a bit of a bummer finding out he was married, but I was happy to have found a group to hang out with—and Marco seemed really keen to get to know me.

Our friendship grew from there. We’d meet up sometimes for basketball practice, where he’d help me improve my skills. Eventually, our meetups turned into grabbing drinks together. Marco got me into craft beer, and as the months passed, we both started to open up. He told me about his life—how he owned a medical sales business, how well it was doing, and how he had two sons in college. He spoke glowingly of his wife, saying he knew he had met his soulmate. 

I shared my own struggles—how I was excited about starting my career, but also how tough it was financially. Marco gave me advice, encouraging me whenever I needed a boost.

One day, Serena was away on a business trip for the weekend, and Marco invited me over to watch a football game. After a couple of beers, Marco turned to me and, out of nowhere, said, "You know, Lukas, I’m kind of envious of you."

I blinked, surprised. "How come?"

He took another sip of his beer before responding. "No one knows this except you now, but... I’m bisexual. And while I’m grateful for the life I have, I’ve never had the chance to explore that side of myself. I wouldn’t ever jeopardize my marriage, but sometimes I do wish I could be with men."

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. Marco looked at me, gauging my reaction, before continuing. "I know this may sound crazy, but I trust you, and I want to ask you a favor. Hear me out before you decide, okay?"

Curiosity piqued, I nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

"What if there was a way for me to explore this side of myself without breaking up my family? If you were me, would you take it?"

I paused, considering his words. "Yeah... I guess I would."

He seemed relieved and leaned in a bit. "Okay, this is where things get... weird. I’ve never told anyone this, but I have the ability to shapeshift. And I want to switch places with you. Just for a month."

I stared at him, my mind struggling to process what I’d just heard. He wasn’t joking—his expression was dead serious. "Wait, what? How... how do you even do that?"

Marco smiled slightly, held out his hand, and said, "Let me show you."

Hesitant but intrigued, I reached out and shook his hand. Suddenly, a bright light flashed from his palm, scanning my body. He let go, rubbed his hands together, and I watched, dumbfounded, as an exact replica of my body appeared in his hands like a skin suit. 

I was speechless.

Marco chuckled at my reaction. "So... I guess you’ve seen me naked now," I joked, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

"Yeah... I guess I have," he laughed.

He led me upstairs and laid out his entire plan. For one month, we’d switch places. I’d live his life—run his business, spend time with his family—while he experienced life as me, exploring his bisexuality in secret. His shapeshifting ability allowed him to perfectly mimic anyone he’d scanned, down to the last detail.

"But there are a few rules," he explained. "First, you cannot sleep with my wife. Second, you have to follow the business plan I leave you—no changes. And third, spend time with my sons when they come home for winter break. I’ll help guide you through it all."

"Marco, this is... this is overwhelming. I’m not sure I can pull it off," I admitted.

"You can. I trust you. And to sweeten the deal, I’ll pay you $10,000 for the month."

Ten grand? My heart raced. With that kind of money, I could get myself out of debt and start saving. After a long pause, I finally agreed. We shook on it.

I spent the next day tying up loose ends in my life, preparing for the swap. When I returned, Marco opened another beer for me. "Okay, Lukas, any rules you want for me?"

"Yeah, a few. First, you need to go to work—don’t slack off on that. Second, check in with my friends so they don’t worry. And third, don’t ruin my reputation, okay? I still want a chance at meeting someone after this is all over."

"Got it," Marco nodded. "I’ll be respectful."

He led me upstairs again, and I watched as he scanned himself. Another skin suit appeared—this time, an exact copy of Marco. He handed it to me, the lifeless face staring back. "Now, here’s the fun part," he said. "You’re going to put it on. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

The idea of slipping into Marco's life—literally—was still hard to grasp. As Lukas stood there in Marco's bathroom, holding the lifeless suit in his hands, the weight of what he was about to do hit him again. The room felt colder, or maybe it was just the suit, its unsettling coldness radiating through Lukas' fingers. He stared at Marco’s face—blank, eyeless, but unmistakably Marco—like it was staring back at him, waiting to be worn.

He hesitated, then, with a deep breath, he slipped one foot into the opening at the suit’s back. The texture of the suit was strange, like cool, stretched skin. His toes felt icy as they sank into the hollow mold of Marco’s feet. He adjusted his foot until it nestled into the curve of Marco's arch, and the sensation was surreal. He repeated the process with the other foot, each movement deliberate, each step pulling him deeper into the shift.

As he pulled the suit up over his legs, the sensation changed—his thighs merged with Marco’s thicker, more muscular frame. His skin prickled as the cold transformed into a warmth that began to wrap around him, like the suit was responding to him, molding itself to his body. His hands trembled when he reached Marco's waist, hesitating as he pulled it over his own. The suit was snug, unnervingly intimate as it slid over him, conforming to his body like a second skin. Lukas took a sharp breath when his own body began to feel distant, swallowed by the suit.

When it reached his chest, the suit tightened. It compressed his torso, his own wiry frame disappearing as Marco’s broader chest settled into place. He ran his fingers over Marco's pecs, feeling the unfamiliar bulk. It was his touch, but not his body. He twisted slightly, and the suit shifted seamlessly with him, no gap, no seam—only Marco.

His arms came next. Lukas felt the power in Marco’s forearms, thicker than his own, veins more prominent. He flexed his new fingers, watching in awe as they responded just like his own, but the shape was completely different—Marco’s hands, rougher, stronger, experienced.

Finally, there was the face—the final piece. Lukas hesitated for a moment, his reflection staring back at him, half Marco and half Lukas. The difference between the two was stark, like seeing a stranger staring back at him. He lifted the faceless mask of Marco and, with trembling hands, positioned it over his own. 

The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before. The suit clung to his face, cool and slick, stretching over his features and fusing with his skin. As the mask settled, the fit was eerily perfect. His vision blurred for a moment as the world seemed to shift, and when he blinked, he wasn’t sure who he was anymore. Marco’s face looked back at him from the mirror, alive and breathing. He touched his cheek, feeling the unfamiliar roughness of Marco’s stubble beneath his fingers, and then ran his hand through Marco’s dark hair.

It was more than just a change of skin. He was Marco now—physically, at least. Lukas tilted his head, watching the reflection mimic him, then smiled. It wasn’t his smile. Marco’s grin was wider, more confident, almost cocky. Lukas admired the reflection longer than he expected, tracing the contours of Marco’s jaw, the way his shoulders filled out his new body. It felt powerful—alien and yet exhilarating.

He spoke, "Hello, I'm Marco Gonzales." The voice was deep, gruff—Marco’s voice, not his own. It reverberated in his throat, strange and foreign, yet perfectly natural coming from his lips. The reflection in the mirror and Lukas phone's camera spoke back, reinforcing the illusion.

Lukas could hardly believe it. He stared for a long time, running his hands down the length of his new body, tracing Marco’s muscles and curves like they were his own, yet so foreign. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the weight of Marco's frame making each breath feel heavier, fuller. The bulk, the strength—it was intoxicating.

Once dressed, he headed downstairs, the weight of Marco’s shoes and clothes grounding him further in this new reality. As he descended, he saw himself—his old self—lounging casually on the couch, a sight that made his stomach churn in disbelief. His own face, his voice, speaking back at him.

“Took you long enough,” Marco—his old self—said with a laugh. “What do you think?”

Lukas sat down, still in awe of the situation. “This is... unbelievable. I can’t believe how real it feels.”

Marco—wearing Lukas’ skin—grinned. “Told you it’d be something. Now, for the next month, you’ll be Marco Gonzales.”

They both sat there for a moment, the reality of the swap settling in. It wasn’t just about wearing Marco’s skin. Lukas was about to live his life—take over his work, interact with his wife, his children, and the people Marco had built his life around. And Marco would be living Lukas' life, exploring the side of himself he’d kept hidden for so long.

“Tomorrow, you’ll go to work, meet my clients, handle my business,” Marco explained, leaning forward. “And don’t worry, I’ll be guiding you every step of the way. I’ll be checking in with you, making sure everything goes smoothly.”

Lukas nodded, still feeling the weight of the transformation. “And what about Serena?”

Marco’s face grew serious. “You’ll need to act like me around her, but remember our deal—no crossing that line. You’re in my life, but you’re not me. My family is off-limits.”

Lukas swallowed hard, nodding again. “I understand.”

But as the days passed, things began to get complicated. Wearing Marco’s skin was one thing, but living his life was entirely different. The demands of his business, the constant pressure of pretending to be someone he wasn’t, started to weigh on Lukas. And then there was Serena—sharp, intuitive, and far more aware of the changes in “Marco” than Lukas anticipated. She questioned him constantly, sensing that something wasn’t quite right, and Lukas had to think quickly to keep the charade going.

Meanwhile, Marco was enjoying his time as Lukas—perhaps a little too much. He dove into the freedom of Lukas' life with reckless abandon, hitting bars, meeting men, and living without the weight of his responsibilities. And though he promised not to tarnish Lukas’ reputation, Lukas started to hear whispers, rumors about “himself” that made him question how much control Marco really had.

The month dragged on, and by the time the swap was supposed to end, both men had changed in ways they hadn’t anticipated. For Lukas, living as Marco had awakened something inside him—a sense of confidence and control he’d never felt before. And for Marco, the experience of freedom had reignited a desire for something he couldn’t fully grasp, something that his life couldn’t provide.

But when it came time to switch back, Marco wasn’t ready to let go.

[multifandom-worlds]

Party Like a Rockstar....Fuck Like a Pornstar

Genre: Almost smut? Like, smut adjacent.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Alcohol, fairly descriptive talk of sex, mild derogatory language

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader x Theodore Nott

Authors Note: This is my first fic for this fandom. Probably pretty out of character for them. Please let me know if there is anything I missed, anything I should do differently next time, etc. Thanks for reading!

“I don’t understand why they prefer to spend time with her rather than with us?”

You listened to a group of random Slytherin 5th years as they fawned over Theodore and Matthew, watching them at their Quidditch game against Gryffindor. You were used to other students wanting your boys, even though the three of you did not keep your relationship with each other a secret. It just came with the territory—you had two of the hottest Slytherin boys wrapped around your finger, doing whatever you asked of them as the obedient little dogs they really were. 

“Look at her, seriously? Look at all the hickeys on her neck. She’s so trashy!”You chuckle to yourself, stretching out in the bleachers and enjoying the sun on your face. If only they knew how you got those hickeys, how fuck drunk you were on their cocks just the night before as they ruined you, leaving you a dripping, overstimulated mess on Theo’s bed. If only they knew how you had Theo whimpering,  begging to be touched while you rode Mattheo’s face. 

You watch, along with the other fangirls, as they fly around overhead, watching their muscles contract. You press your thighs together, feeling heat start to grow between them—they were losing, and you knew whenever they lost, especially to Gryffindor, they would be angry and take all that pent-up emotion out of you. Not that you mind, you had no issues being their little fuck toy, mainly because they would shower you with praise once they felt better. 

While you were daydreaming, Slytherin had caught the snitch and won the game. The entire Slytherin bleachers erupted into hoots and hollers as they descended on the field. “Party in the Slytherin common room!” Blaise shouted above the din. 

You watch as that gaggle of 5th years swarm Mattheo and Theodore, pressing themselves all up over them, batting their eyelashes and flirting relentlessly. 

“You played so well!”

“You looked so hot up there!”

“Come back to my dorm, and I can help…relieve those sore muscles of yours. I’m really good with my hands.”

Theo dramatically gags, hearing what they have said, causing the rest of the team to laugh. He turns his attention to the 5th year directly in front of him. “And what’s your name?”

“Lacey, Lacey Goldrun. You’re Theodore Nott! My friends are Tara, Serena, Elena and Sophia. We have been yours and Mattheos' biggest fans ever! We come to all your games and know your whole schedule, even where your dorm is!” One of them responds, her face lighting up at the fact that Theodore Nott was talking to her.

Mattheo looks at them suspiciously. “That’s stalkerish.” 

“Well, Lacey Goldrun,” Theo began, looking down at her, eyes boring a hole into her. “You must be new here because everyone knows Matt and I are spoken for, so if you dare touch me again, I will…” 

You stick your finger and thumb in your mouth, letting out a high-pitched whistle, attracting the attention of every person on the Quidditch field. Theo draws his eyes away from Lacey before he and Mattheo begin to push their way through the crowd to you. 

“Walk 'em like a dog, sis!” Lorenzo shouts as you begin to walk back to the castle.

“Walk am like a dog!” Draco echos, erupting into a fit of laughter.

Both of them roll their eyes and flip the group the bird before diligently following you back to their dorm for their after-game ritual. Most would assume they planned on bedding you, but the reality was much softer. They took turns taking a shower to clean off all the sweat before the player who scored the most points in that game got to steal you for a nap.

Theo came out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his hips, seeing you and Mattheo fast asleep on his bed. The faintest smile pulled on his lips before he kissed both your cheeks and went to get changed and go for a smoke. “He scored one more point than I did, cara mia; how is this fair?” He chuckled to himself before leaving the dorm.

You moan into his kiss as he presses his body into yours from the front. You could feel just how hard both of them were, and it was all because of you. With Mattheo’s lips on your neck, your free hand slides down between your bodies to palm Theo through his jeans. 

Hours later, the Slytherin common room was packed - drunks were flowing, music was blaring, and the party was in full swing. You were grinding against Mattheo, your arms around his neck while his hands were on your hips, holding you tight against him. “You’re so fucking perfect, mon petit coeur. This dress..” He trails off, his hands sliding down your legs, playing with the hem of your admittedly concise dress. You continue to gride on him, making eye contact with Theo, sitting a few feet away.

“Fuck, cara mia, you look so fucking good griding on him like that.” Theo groans, walking over to you and Mattheo. He grabs your cheeks in one hand, forcing you to look up at him before he claims your mouth, his hand falling from your cheeks to your throat, squeezing gently. 

“Merlin, I wish that was me,” A very drunk Lacey whines. She was trying to make it look like she was talking to her friends, but she was staring straight at the 3 of you. You pull yourself away from your boys, strolling over to her before leaning in close to whisper in her ear.

“You want to be this trashy, do you little one? You want to be so cock drunk that you don’t even know your name, and you can’t sit on your ass for weeks because of how many times their hands came down on your ass?” You give her a quick once over, clicking your tongue in disgust. “You couldn’t handle this being you; you’d break before they even got started.” 

Lacey looks at you, eyes glassy in her drunken state. You squeeze the bridge of your nose. She didn’t understand a single thing you just said to her—which is probably a good thing. You didn’t necessarily want to traumatize the poor girl. You turn to her friends, “Take her back to her dorm; make sure she stays there. I don’t want to see any of you until morning. Do you understand me?” 

The other girls nod quickly, fear prevalent on their faces as they quickly pull Lacey away, disappearing into the crowd. You walk back to Mattheo and Theo. “That was one of the hottest things I have seen you do in a long time,” Mattheo says, grabbing your ass and pulling you close, stealing the words right off your tongue. 

You hardly had a moment to breathe before Theo's nicotine-stained lips made contact with yours. Mattheo lets go of your ass, disappearing into the hordes of people. You were so lost in Theo’s kiss that it barely even registered that he was gone. 

He bites your bottom lip, pulling away every so slightly before letting it go. “If you weren’t so drunk right now..” He began, hands on your ass, “I would drag you update and fuck that mouth of yours. Matt was right; that was one of the sexiest things you have done in a while, telling people what kind of perfect slut you are for us.” 

You go to say something, but you are interrupted by a shot glass getting shoved between your tits. You know who that hand belongs to - you look up at Mattheo, fire whiskey in his hands. “Celebratory shots, Theo?” He questions, pouring the alcohol into the shot glass.

“After you,” Theo says, taking the bottle from the other boy's hand. Mattheo smirks, shoving his face between your tits, wrapping his lips around the shot glass before lifting his head up and back, downing the liquid in one swallow. He takes the glass out of his mouth before handing it to Theo.

“My turn, Cara Mia, be a good girl now, and I might reward you when you sober up,” Theo says, placing the shot glass back between your tits. He poured some fire whiskey until it was overflowing. “Whoops,” he smirks before he, too, shoves his face between your tits and takes the glass between his lip.

[a-aexotic]

𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, chapter 6

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ! 3.1k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ! girly stuff, mentions of ED's, modeling, bonding with the girls :)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! this chapter was more of a serena, y/n, blair bonding moment so there's a lot of fluffy girly things. but ofc it's gossip girl so there's a teeniest bit of drama. but this is a nate fic so there's a sprinkle of nate content in there as well hehe

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. series masterlist. taglist. ❫

You sat alongside Serena and Eleanor, Blair's mom who had just flown back in from Paris. After the whole Ivy week mixer debacle, they had made up the next day and you were so glad that you didn't have to deal with their petty fights.

You sat in Blair's living room, catching up with Eleanor. Blair was still asleep and you wanted to wake her up but Eleanor insisted she got her beauty sleep.

Serena looked up and a smile curved on her lips once she saw Blair had woken up. "Hey, you're up!"

"Did we have plans?" Blair questioned as she analyzed the scene in front of her. Before either you or Serena could respond, her mother spoke.

"Darling, it's impolite to interrupt, mwah." She gave her daughter a air kiss as she took a seat next to you. You gave Blair a sympathetic smile, you knew she had a somewhat complicated relationship with her mother. "I was just telling Serena and Y/N that Benedel's is interested in carrying my line."

Blair's eyes lit up with genuine excitement as she processed her mother's words. "Really? Oh, that's fantastic. Why didn't you say something?"

Eleanor chuckled softly, a hint of pride in her voice. "I came back from Paris to put together my lookbook and if they like what they see, it could be the beginning of an entire lifestyle collection - like Winfrey's."

Eleanor gave you a smile as you nodded. Your mother's company had become one of the most coveted brands in the fashion industry, known for its elegance and sophistication. You returned Eleanor's smile with warmth, feeling a sense of pride in your mother's accomplishments.

"That's incredible, Eleanor," you replied, admiration evident in your voice. "I'm sure Benedel's will be thrilled to have your line. And a lifestyle collection? That's ambitious, but knowing your eye for design, I have no doubt it'll be a huge success."

"Mom, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you." Blair's eyes gleamed with excitement as picked up a croissant and tried to bit into it.

"Before you tuck into that, you might find the low-fat yogurt more appealing." Eleanor gave Blair a look before she nodded, dropping the croissant.

Serena glanced around awkwardly before getting up from the couch to take a better look at Eleanor's clothes.

You gazed at Eleanor, annoyance filling your expression. You liked Blair's mother but she can bit controlling at times and you hated seeing Blair undermined like that. But you also knew that Blair's relationship with her mother was complicated, filled with expectations and pressures that often left Blair feeling suffocated and vying for her attention.

You opened your mouth to speak only to be cut off by Blair and her glare. She knew you hated how her mother treated her but she didn't need your words, especially now.

"I lost two pounds while you were away." Blair smiled at her mother.

"And you look marvelous." Eleanor grinned back before her eyes moved toward Serena, who was looking at the dresses.

"Wow these are beautiful, Mrs. Waldorf." Serena exclaimed, admiring the elegant designs on display.

Eleanor's smile widened at the compliment. "Well they will be when they're not all squished from travelling." Eleanor moved by Blair and walked toward Serena and you could tell Blair was saddened by that.

You have her a sympathetic smile, taking her hand and squeezing it for reassurance as she watched Serena and her mother interact.

"When everything is unpacked, I would love to hear your thoughts. You do have such great personal style." Eleanor praised as she looked to glance at you as well. "And Y/N, I know you did some modeling in Paris. I'd love to see you in some of my dresses."

You offered a grateful smile at Eleanor's words, feeling a surge of appreciation for her acknowledgment. "Thank you, Eleanor. I'd be honored but..." You looked back at Blair before continuing. "I left that in Paris, it was too much pressure."

Blair's grip on your hand loosened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before she quickly masked it with a smile. "Y/N would love, Mom. She'd would look stunning in your designs."

Your eyes widened in surprise but before you could respond, Serena did. "Actually, all of us plans today."

"We do?" Blair looked confused as she glanced between you and Serena.

You nodded in agreement with Serena's sudden declaration, improvising on the spot. "Yes, we do. Remember? We talked about going shopping downtown for the sleepover next week."

Blair's confusion shifted to a smile of excitement as she caught on to the plan. "Oh, right! How could I forget? That sounds perfect. Sorry, Mom, we'll have to take a rain check on unpacking those dresses."

Eleanor smiled, seemingly pleased with the plan. "That sounds lovely. I'll look forward to seeing you all later. And Y/N, we can discuss the modeling another time if you're interested."

You nodded gratefully. "I'll let you know if I change my mind."

As you made your way out of the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of being caught between Blair's desire to please her mother and your own apprehensions about being drawn back into the fashion world. But for now, you focused on the prospect of spending time with your friends outside the confines of Upper East Side drama.

Or so you thought.

──౨ৎ──

"Oh my god, Blair!" You squealed as you watched your friend flush in slight embarrassment, but a genuine smile was evident on her face. "I left you guys alone for an hour and now Blair has a modeling gig? That's amazing."

You, Serena and Blair were all sitting on her bed as Is and Kati looked at the dresses.

"It's for my mom's line and it's a one time thing," Blair interjected but you could tell she was really happy to be finally included in her mother's business. "I'm only doing it as a favor."

Serena grinned, nudging Blair playfully. "Oh, come on, Blair! Don't play it down. It's gonna be so hot and the clothes are gorgeous."

"They're alright." Blair glanced at Kati, a grin on her face.

"Oh, shut up. They're amazing and you're gonna make them look more amazing." You rolled your eyes playfully as Blair shoved you, a blush on her face.

"Like I said, I'm only doing it as a favor to my mom." Blair's voice sounded irritated but there was a hint of excitement in her eyes as she smiled.

Serena chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah, humble as always, Blair."

You couldn't help but laugh along with Serena as Blair gave her a mock glare before she turned back to Kati and Is. "The hair and make-up test is tonight." She beamed as everyone squealed in excitement for Blair.

"I think this is my best pose," Kati declared, striking a dramatic pose with her hand on her hip and a playful smirk on her face.

Isabel laughed, shaking her head. "That's because you can't see what you look like. You're just a hand model, that's it. The right way is this,"

Isabel striked a pose, popping out her hips with a kissy face before you and Blair shook your heads. Blair got up and joined in, imitating Isabel's pose with exaggerated flair.

"Uh-uh, uh-uh, girls. This is how you do it. Gotta curve your spine forward along--" Blair began before Serena got up, shaking her head with a laugh escaping her mouth.

"Oh no! You guys are doing it all wrong. Look you're missing the key," Serena declared, stepping forward with a smirk. With a quick, fluid motion, she struck put her hand on her hips. "You gotta put the hand on the hip... and pop. That's how you do it."

"Pop, pop, pop." Blair moved her hips.

Everyone began copying her pose as you let out a loud laugh, your head falling back in the bed as Blair rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh look! The professional model is laughing at us, sorry we don't have as much experience as you do."

You grinned mischievously, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, everyone starts somewhere, right? But you've got potential, Blair. Maybe with a little more practice, you'll be giving me a run for my money."

Blair rolled her eyes again but couldn't suppress a grin. "If you're so good at it, then show us. Or are you scared?"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Scared? Please, Blair. You know me better than that. But fine, challenge accepted."

With a dramatic flourish, you stood up from the bed and stepped forward, adopting a confident pose. You put your hand on your hip, tilted your head slightly, and flashed a confident gaze at the group.

The room erupted in laughter as you strutted back and forth, hamming it up for your audience. "Watch and learn, ladies," you declared with a playful smirk.

"Wow, I'm truly in the presence of greatness," Blair teased, clapping her hands in mock applause as you finished your impromptu performance.

You took a bow, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be signing autographs later."

Blair chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "Oh, please, don't let the fame get to your head."

Serena playfully nudged you. "I think we've found our new Queen of the Catwalk."

"You know... That's what they called me in Paris."

"Oh, please! You didn't even do any Catwalks." Blair teased as you scoffed.

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes. "Details, Blair. Details."

──౨ৎ──

You and Serena looked at Eleanor's dresses on set as Blair was doing her first photoshoot. You looked back at her, a proud smile on your face as Serena examined the dresses.

As you and Serena admired Eleanor's dresses on set, a sense of pride washed over you. Blair looked stunning as she posed for her first photoshoot but you could tell she was a little nervous. But you couldn't blame her - the first time you did a shoot, you threw up before and after.

"You look amazing, Blair!" you called out, unable to contain your admiration as Blair rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.

"Okay, let's take five!" The photographer called out.

You walked over to begin talking to Blair but Serena stayed, examing the dresses more. But then she began listening over to the photographer speak.

"Who chose this girl?" He spoke quietly, annoyance dripping from his words.

"Eleanor? Why?"

"She's so prim... stiff, like a bookcase. It's unnatural." He spoke candidly, his dissatisfaction evident in his tone.

"Yeah but she looks stunning in the clothes, don't you agree?"

"Mhm... to my eyes, like a Goddess. To this eye," he pointed to the camera. "Bleh, like a statue. She needs to let go, loosen up, have fun."

Serena let out a huff before she began walking over to you and Blair, masking her irritation at the photographer. "Hey! First of all, you look amazing."

"Amazing is an understatement." You added as Blair laughed.

"But look, can I give you a tip?" Serena spoke as Blair's expression turned from excited to slightly annoyed.

"How did I know this was coming." Blair sighed as you and Serena shared glances.

"No, no, no. Look all you need to do is... maybe you could uh, loosen up? You know, shake it out." Serena grabbed her arms and began shaking her hair, blowing raspberries as you laughed.

"Yeah, yeah. She's right, Blair. Shake it out." You began encourage her, mimicking Serena's playful gestures as you tried to lighten the mood.

Blair looked back at the crew and then back at Serena.

"Um, maybe you could be goofy. Like when we were ten and we would dance around to Genie in a Bottle in your mom's clothes." Serena began jumping around as Blair flushed nervously under the photographer's gaze, which you caught on.

She glanced at you and Serena, a desperate look in her eyes. "Help me."

"Um, okay..." Serena looked back at you for any suggestions and you nodded.

"Act like a tiger!" You exclaimed, jumping into the impromptu role-play. "Come on," you began roaring as Serena and Blair exchanged glances before laughing.

Serena nodded, getting into character as she roared, imitating a tiger's movements. Blair hesitated for a moment, but then she too began to channel her inner tiger, prowling and growling with exaggerated ferocity.

"No, no. You gotta roar." Serena laughed as she threw her head back, roaring as you let out a laugh. "Yeah, that's it, Blair! Give me tiger."

Blair's initial hesitation melted away as she joined in the fun, letting out a playful roar that echoed through the room.

"Now let's do a prettier one, you're Venus in the half shell, right." Serena spoke as she gave a pouty face, putting her hands on her collarbones. "So, just look up."

You both followed Serena's lead, adopting a more serene expression as she lifted her chin and gazed upward with a soft, dreamy expression.

The photographer, impressed by Blair's transformation, snapped away, capturing each moment with precision and skill. With each click of the camera, Blair's confidence seemed to grow, her natural beauty shining through with undeniable grace and charm.

"Guys! Guys! Let's do something crazy, like Britney with the umbrella." You exclaimed as they both nodded. "Britney with the umbrella, go!"

Blair pretended to have an umbrella in her hand as she struck a dramatic pose, channeling Britney during her infamous umbrella incident as she shouted. Serena joined in, pretending to shield herself from the umbrella with exaggerated movements.

"I'm the car! I'm the car!" Serena spoke as she pretended to get hit by the umbrella as you laughed, joining in Blair as they continued the playful reenactment, adding their own comedic flair to the scene.

As the impromptu photoshoot came to an end, you, Blair and Serena collapsed onto the nearest couch, breathless from laughter. "Thank you, guys. Seriously,"

Serena nodded in agreement, her own laughter still echoing in the room. "Anytime, B. We've got your back, always."

You grinned, nudging Blair playfully. "Hey, that's what besties are for, right? Besides, it was a blast! It's kinda making me miss Paris-"

"No, no. You're not leaving us anytime soon." Blair pulled you and Serena closer as you both collapsed on her, laughter escaping your lungs. Despite the challenges and drama of the past, moments like these reminded you why you had decided to stick around.

"Alright, alright," Serena chuckled, trying to catch her breath. "No one's going anywhere. We're in this together, remember?"

You nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of gratitude for the friendship you shared with Blair and Serena. "Definitely."

──౨ৎ──

"God, your mom can be a..." You paused, trying to find an appropriate word. "She can be a handful."

"You can say it. A bitch." Blair spoke blatantly as you and Serena shared a glance before laughing.

She had just told you what had happened in this morning. This morning was supposed to be the photoshoot but her mom apparently fired her (but then blamed it on the photographer) but she didn't tell Serena. Serena had showed up, thinking that you and Blair were on your way but then realized that Eleanor had chosen Serena to be her model without her consent.

Of course, Blair was angry but now it's all in the past. You guys then stole all of her dresses from the shoot and went out to take pictures in the city, which was fun.

Blair shrugged, trying to brush off the incident with a nonchalant smile. "Well, what's done is done. At least we made the most of it, right? And stealing all those dresses was definitely worth it."

You sat up in her bed with a smile as you nodded. "I hope she doesn't get too mad. I don't want my mom to get more angry phone calls from Eleanor."

"Remember that time you and Serena snuck me out and went to that party at the Hamptons?" Blair's eyes sparkled with amusement as she reminisced about past adventures. "Now that was a night to remember."

"Yeah and my mom still lectures me about it." You rolled your eyes as Serena let out a giggle.

Serena chuckled, shaking her head. "Your mom's lectures were legendary. But hey, it was all worth it for the memories, right?"

You and Blair let out a couple giggles before you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Serena and Blair began talking and you pulled it out, reading the Caller ID.

Nate :)

You looked around before you let it go to voicemail, putting it back in your bag.

Serena gave you a glance before putting a chip in her mouth, observing you. "Who was that?"

"Oh, just my dad," you replied casually, trying to keep your tone nonchalant as you shrugged. "Probably just checking in or something."

Serena raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Aren't your parents at an event right now?"

You chuckled nervously, feeling a flush at the obvious lie. "Well you know they like know where I'm at and... uh, stuff."

You didn't know why you were lying. Everyone knew you and Nate were best friends so why did it matter that he was calling you in the middle of the night? And why were you anxious for him, did something happen?

You and Serena decided to the spend the night at Blair's after a movie but as soon you saw they were asleep, you snuck out of bed and into the bathroom to listen to Nate's message.

"Hey, I know you're probably asleep but uh... I just wanted to try and see if you were up to talk." Nate paused before he sighed. "I really messed up tonight and I don't really know what to do. I did something that I thought was good for me but it ended up costing me and Chuck a lot."

"I know I should have talked to someone about it first, but things have been crazy lately, and I just acted on impulse. I feel stupid and I wish I could take it all back. And I know we said we were gonna keep things platonic, but I just needed to hear your voice."

There was another pause, and you could hear the strain in Nate's voice. "You always know how to make sense of things. I missed talking to you and uh, I'm really glad we talked and we're all good again. I hope you're not mad at me for calling so late. Call me back when you get this. Goodnight."

The message ended with a soft click.

[storywriter007]

(Part 2) Part 1 - You're Not Her - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n realizes this relationship is no longer worth fighting for

warnings: cursing, character death, toxic relationship, throwing things

genre: angst

word count: 1.1k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n laughed as a smidge of vanilla ice cream was put on percy's nose.

"not funny y/n." he said, irritated, wiping it off.

"sorry, won't happen again." she said back, shocked at the mood change. "wanna go for a swim?" she asked, trying to change the topic.

"no, i want to stay dry." he said, plainly.

"do you want to do anything?" y/n laughed.

he looked at her with his sea green eyes.

"what do you think." he said.

"alright per-sassy-eus." she shrugged.

they stared the the lake in silence until a little girl came running.

"y/n! y/n!" she shouted, running towards her.

y/n wrapped her arms around the seven-year old.

"hey serena! what's up?" she asked, smiling.

"me and lily and kayla and a bunch of other girls are making friendship bracelets!" serena said excitedly. "c'mon! hi percy!"

"hey serena." he smiled. "i like your bracelet."

"i have two of them, they are matching!" she grinned. "you can have one."

she slid the blue one off her wrist and gave it to percy.

"now we're best friends!" serena said, returning to y/n and tugging on her hand.

y/n looked at percy.

"percy, i'm gonna go." she smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

"yeah, ok." he shrugged.

"love you." y/n said.

"mhm."

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n got to the arts and crafts table and sat down next to her good friend, olivia.

"they got you too?" liv laughed.

"yeah." y/n smiled.

"y/n! why didn't percy say love you back?" serena asked.

y/n felt hurt, but she couldn't show that, not to this little girl. olivia stared at her, waiting for the response.

"he's just a little shy now-a-days." y/n chuckled.

"but he's your boyfriend!" serena's friend, lily spoke up.

"boyfriends can be shy." y/n explained, wondering whether she was lying to the kids or herself.

"but he always say i love you to annabeth!" serena's other friend, kayla added.

"i guess he's just a little more reserved after what happened with annabeth. that changes people." y/n smiled.

"he's still my hero though!" serena smiled.

"him and jason are my heroes!" lily added.

"kayla, who's your hero?" they asked.

"my hero is reyna!" she said confidently.

y/n chuckled.

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y/n and olivia sat on y/n's bed in her cabin.

"what were the girls going on about today?" liv asked.

"percy, and they were right, and they had good points." y/n sighed, tired of hiding it. "we've been dating for almost a year now, and he's just so negative."

"what do you mean?" liv continued.

"i mean he always gets mad at me, he never wants to do anything with me, and it feels like i'm just someone to look at when he's bored." y/n explained. "i get it, things are different for him after annabeth died."

olivia nodded, placing her hand on y/n's for comfort.

"they'd been friends forever, they went through hell together, they'd been in love, and he couldn't save her at the battle. but it's been three years, and he confessed to me. he said, 'i know you've like me for a while and i think i do too.' i remember the day liv." y/n continued. "and things have changed for me too. piper and hazel are always casting me dirty glances, jason and leo and frank avoid me if i'm in anywhere near ten feet to them. i've been slut-shamed, compared, and bullied because i'm dating him."

y/n began to feel tears well up.

"i just want him to talk to me and hang out with me without feeling like he's being forced to do it." she finished.

"y/n, i think this is something you have to tell percy." olivia responded. "you can't keep going like this, it's going to kill you."

"i don't want to hurt him and what if he just freaks out on me? i care about him." y/n countered.

"just talk to him." olivia encouraged. "he's a good man, he'll understand."

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"you're not understanding me!" y/n said, sadness filling her voice. "i-i'm not telling you to get over what happened, i'm trying to tell you that you can talk to me! i'm trying to help you percy!"

"help me! help me! you want to help me by bringing up her name?" he screamed.

gods, he was scary.

"i'm trying to tell you that it feels like you don't even like me, much less love me! it's like i'm a burden to you!" y/n shouted back. "and i understand you're hurting, but why am i a victim of your grief?"

"fine!" he said, throwing a candle across his cabin. "i'm sorry that my girlfriend, who i loved for longer than i've ever known you, is dead and that it makes me upset!"

y/n ducked, avoiding the glass shards. fear ran through her bones.

"and i'm sorry you have to go through that, but it sucks for me too! piper and hazel give me these glares, like they hate every vein in my body. leo, jason, and frank run from me like i'm a disease! and i've told you and you don't do shit to stop it, you encourage it if anything!" y/n yelled.

"they've got every fucking reason too!" he yelled, throwing a picture frame of us across the room.

"what's the reason! tell me, what's the reason!" y/n shouted.

"because you're not annabeth!" he yelled, with every bone in his body as tear welled up in his eyes. "you're not her, she would've never done whatever shit you're doing."

y/n stood still for a minute as the words replayed in her head.

you're not her, you're not her, you're not her.

tears filled y/n's eyes.

it's like percy finally understood the gravity of the situation as he looked around in shame.

"y/n, i didn't mean that-"

"no, no, percy, you did. you really did, because otherwise, you wouldn't have said it. and you wouldn't have followed every action to prove it." y/n chuckled. "i'm sorry i'm not annabeth."

percy took a couple of steps forward, but stopped instantly when y/n backed up defensively. y/n pointed to the glass shards around the room. they stood in silence.

"you're a bad man, percy. throwing shit and telling me i'll never be enough. i wish every little girl and boy could see their so-called camp hero right now. i wish they could see what a fucking monster he is." y/n said, her voice now low and quiet.

she turned around, and walked out of his cabin.

“y/n, can’t we talk about this?” he shouted out.

“oh i tried talking to you percy.” she chuckled. “but, you can always go down to annabeth’s gravestone and talk to her."