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l4ndonorizz · 5 months ago

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sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”

#f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando x reader

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manmuncher777 · 1 month ago

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HANDY MAN

Neighbour!nanami x reader

18+ SMUT - name calling, degradation, thirst, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, spanking.

- You offer nanami dinner as a thank you for all his help, but when the tension builds, dinner takes an unexpected turn..

A/n - my babies, I couldn’t be more thankful for all the love on my recent posts!!! Ive just hit 500 followers, I love that 500 of you lovely people took the time to follow me. So please take this offering as a thank you!! I hope you love it as much as I do, and please remember JJK/AOT REQS ARE OPEN!! Like seriously give me stuff to write before I tweak out

Nanami Kento was the perfect neighbor. The kind of man who never forgot to return a borrowed tool, who held the elevator door even if he was in a hurry, and who always offered a polite nod and quiet “good evening” when you crossed paths in the hallway. Reliable, considerate, and so steady it was almost maddening.

You’d noticed him the day you moved in—how could you not? Tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of quiet authority that made your stomach do somersaults every time he so much as glanced your way. But he was polite to a fault, never lingering too long in conversation, never crossing the line between friendly and personal.

Until the day your radiator broke.

You’d knocked on his door hesitantly, clutching a screwdriver you had no idea how to use and praying he wouldn’t think you were an absolute idiot. He’d answered almost immediately, sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that looked like they could fix a lot more than just a radiator. You’d stumbled through your explanation, cheeks heating as you fumbled for the right words, but he’d only nodded, grabbed his toolbox, and followed you into your apartment without a second thought.

That was months ago. Since then, Nanami had become a quiet but consistent fixture in your life. A leaking faucet, a flickering lightbulb, a misaligned cabinet door—he handled them all with a calm efficiency that made you feel both grateful and hopelessly incompetent.

You’d offered to pay him, of course, but he’d waved it off with a dismissive hand. "It’s nothing," he’d said, his tone as smooth as his tie. "Just let me know if you need anything else."

And you had. Often.

You’d started baking for him as a way to say thank you. Cookies, muffins, the occasional pie—anything to feel like you were contributing something to the arrangement. He never complained, though you’d caught the ghost of a smile on his lips when you handed over a batch of freshly made banana bread last week.

Now, as you stood in your kitchen staring at the cursed garbage disposal that had decided to stop working, you couldn’t help but sigh. Your first instinct was to call the building maintenance, but the thought of a stranger rooting around in your sink made your skin crawl. You didn’t trust anyone else with your space—or, let’s face it, your dignity.

Your feet carried you to his front door almost automatically, and before you could overthink it, you knocked.

The door opened after a brief pause, and there he was, Nanami Kento in all his quiet, unflappable glory. He was dressed casually for once, a simple sweater that somehow still clung to his broad chest in a way that made your throat go dry. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his hand through it, and he had the faintest shadow of stubble along his jawline.

"Good evening," he greeted, his voice deep and even, like the kind of bass that you felt in your chest more than you heard with your ears. "Do you need help with something?"

You offered him a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck. "Uh, yeah. It’s the garbage disposal this time. I think I might have broken it."

He gave a slight chuckle—so slight you almost missed it—but there was no judgment in his gaze, only patience. "Let me grab my toolbox."

As he disappeared back into his apartment, you leaned against the doorframe and took a steadying breath. You’d grown used to his presence over the past few months, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have the ability to set your pulse racing with a single look.

When he returned, toolbox in hand, he nodded toward your apartment. "Shall we?"

You stepped aside to let him in, watching as he made his way to your kitchen with the ease of someone who’d been there a hundred times before. You couldn’t help but notice the way his sweater stretched across his back as he bent over the sink, the muscles in his shoulders shifting under the fabric.

"You really don’t have to keep doing this," you said, leaning against the counter as he assessed the situation. "I feel bad always bothering you."

He glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing slightly. "It’s no bother," he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Besides, I’d rather help than have you try to fix it yourself and make it worse."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "I’m not that bad."

He turned back to the sink, but you caught the faintest twitch of his lips. "Of course not," he said dryly, reaching into the disposal with a confidence that made you feel completely out of your league.

As he worked, you found yourself watching him—really watching him. The way his hands moved with precision, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his sleeves slid up just enough to reveal the corded strength of his forearms.

"Everything okay?" he asked, not looking up, but his voice carried a note of amusement that made your cheeks heat.

"Yeah, fine," you said quickly, tearing your eyes away and busying yourself with tidying the counter. But your mind was already racing, the domestic ease of the moment mixing with the low, steady tension that seemed to hum in the air whenever he was around

Cooking dinner has always been your escape, a way to unwind and lose yourself in the simple rhythm of chopping, stirring, and seasoning. Tonight’s meal smells divine—garlic, ginger, and soy sauce melding together in a sizzling pan of vegetables and noodles. You hum along to the low music playing from your speaker, entirely at ease as you finish plating the food.

But as you start washing up, the peaceful evening takes a turn.

The faucet groans, sputters, and then sprays a rogue jet of water that soaks your shirt. You jump back with a startled yelp, frantically twisting the knobs to no avail. Water drips steadily, mockingly, pooling around the base of the sink.

You let out a defeated sigh, leaning against the counter and glaring at the offending fixture. There’s only one solution—and only one person who comes to mind.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll to his name. Nanami Kento. The calm, reliable neighbor who’s been your go-to for everything from fixing a squeaky door to assembling your bookshelf. He’s the epitome of a gentleman, always courteous and collected, but beneath his polite demeanor is a man who’s effortlessly, almost devastatingly attractive.

Your thumb hovers over the call button for a moment. It’s late, and you hate to bother him again, but you know he won’t mind. Nanami never minds.

The phone barely rings twice before his deep, steady voice answers. “Hello?”

“Hi, Nanami,” you say, trying not to sound too frazzled. “I, uh… I hate to bother you, but my sink is leaking. It’s kind of a mess, and I have no idea what to do.”

There’s a soft sigh on the other end, one you can almost picture paired with the slight shake of his head. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Thank you,” you breathe, relief washing over you.

True to his word, there’s a knock at your door less than five minutes later. When you open it, you’re greeted by the sight of him: sleeves rolled up to his elbows, toolbox in hand, and an expression of calm determination on his face.

“Good evening,” he says simply, stepping inside with an easy confidence that immediately puts you at ease.

You lead him to the kitchen, gesturing sheepishly at the sink. “It’s, uh, doing that thing again. I tried turning the knobs, but…”

“I see.” Nanami sets his toolbox down, crouching beside the sink to inspect the damage. His large frame fills the small kitchen, and you can’t help but notice the way his broad shoulders flex beneath the fabric of his shirt as he moves.

You try not to stare, busying yourself with wiping down the already-clean counter. But your gaze keeps wandering—trailing over the defined line of his jaw, the way his golden hair falls slightly out of place as he leans closer to the pipes. His hands, large and strong, move with precise efficiency, wielding tools like an extension of himself.

“You weren’t kidding,” he says after a moment, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “It’s worse than last time. Did you notice the dripping earlier, or did it start all at once?”

“Oh, um…” You blink, trying to focus. “I think it started all at once. I mean, it wasn’t doing this earlier, and then suddenly—” You gesture vaguely at the mess. “It just happened.”

Nanami hums thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration as he works. The room is quiet except for the occasional clink of tools and the steady cadence of his voice as he explains what he’s doing.

“You’ve got a loose valve here,” he says, glancing up at you. “It’s a simple fix, but if it happens again, you might want to consider replacing the whole faucet.”

You nod, biting your lip as your eyes linger on the way his forearms flex with every turn of the wrench. He looks so composed, so effortlessly capable, that you can’t help but feel a little flustered.

“Thanks for coming over so quickly,” you say, hoping to fill the silence. “I feel like I’m always calling you for something.”

Nanami glances up again, his gaze steady and warm. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy to help.”

Your cheeks heat under his attention, and you quickly turn away, pretending to fuss with a towel. “Still, I really appreciate it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He doesn’t reply immediately, but you catch the faintest flicker of a smile as he turns back to the sink. “You’d manage,” he says after a moment. “But I’m glad I can make things easier for you.”

The casual intimacy of his words sends a flutter through your chest, and you busily tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pretending you didn’t notice. But you did notice. You always notice

The minutes stretch on as he continues working, and the longer he’s there, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension humming beneath the surface. You’re hyperaware of his every movement, every quiet exhale, and the way his presence seems to fill the entire room.

By the time he finishes, your nerves are wound tight, and you’re clutching the towel in your hands like a lifeline. Nanami straightens up, rolling his sleeves back down with a practiced motion before turning to face you.

“All done,” he announces, his voice calm and steady as always.

“Thank you,” you say quickly, stepping closer. “You’re a lifesaver. Really.”

“It’s nothing,” he replies, brushing his hands off on a rag. “Just a simple fix.”

“Still,” you insist, unable to stop the words from spilling out. “I feel bad that you’re always helping me out. You should let me thank you properly sometime.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “There’s no need for that.”

“I mean it,” you say, a little more boldly this time. “Next time, at least stay for dinner or something. It’s the least I can do.”

For a moment, he’s silent, his gaze fixed on yours in a way that makes your heart race. Then, finally, he nods. “All right. I’ll hold you to that.”

His words hang in the air, heavier than they should be, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more lurking beneath his calm exterior. But before you can dwell on it, he picks up his toolbox and heads for the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the faint scent of cedarwood lingering in the air.

As Nanami finishes cleaning up, wiping his hands on a towel with practiced efficiency, you catch yourself hesitating. The kitchen feels too quiet now, the weight of his presence filling the space even though he’s barely said a word. He’s so composed, so calm, and it’s that very quiet confidence that makes your heart race.

Before you can second-guess yourself, the words spill out. “You know… I made way too much dinner tonight. Would you like to stay and have some? As a thank you?”

Nanami pauses, his towel frozen mid-air. He looks at you, his honeyed gaze unreadable for a moment before it softens. “You’re sure?” he asks, his tone polite but warm, as if he’s already guessed your answer.

“Absolutely,” you insist, gesturing toward the plates on the counter. “It’s the least I can do. And besides…” You offer a sheepish smile. “It’d be nice to have some company.”

He doesn’t make you wait long for a reply. With a small nod, he sets the towel aside. “All right. I’d be happy to join you.”

You busy yourself plating the food, trying not to overthink the fact that Nanami Kento is about to sit down at your dining table. By the time you’ve poured two glasses of wine and taken a seat, the nerves in your chest have settled into a low, thrumming buzz.

He’s sitting across from you, shoulders broad and straight even as he relaxes slightly into the chair. The glow of the overhead light catches on his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the subtle curve of his lips. You take a sip of wine, more to distract yourself than anything else.

“This smells wonderful,” he says, breaking the silence. His voice is smooth, steady, with a quiet sincerity that makes you feel like the effort you put into cooking was worth it.

“Thanks,” you reply, fidgeting slightly with your fork. “It’s just a stir-fry, nothing fancy.”

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “Don’t undersell yourself. It looks like you put a lot of care into it.”

You can feel the blush creeping up your neck, and you quickly look down at your plate. “I just like to cook,” you mumble, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you’ve become.

But, of course, he notices.

“You’re sweet,” he says after a moment, his tone light but deliberate. “Always going out of your way to take care of people. I’ve noticed that about you.”

Your hand freezes mid-cut, and you glance up at him, unsure how to respond. The way he’s looking at you—steady, direct, but not overwhelming—makes your heart skip a beat.

“Well,” you say, attempting to deflect, “it’s the least I can do for someone who’s always fixing things around here. You’re like my personal handyman.”

Nanami chuckles softly, the sound low and warm, and you’re struck by how rare it is to hear him laugh. “I don’t mind,” he says simply. “It’s… nice, actually. Knowing I can be useful.”

“Useful?” You tilt your head, genuinely surprised. “You’re not just useful, Nanami. You’re—” You pause, searching for the right words. “You’re dependable. It’s a rare quality these days.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, a quiet pride that he doesn’t vocalize but doesn’t hide either. He takes a sip of wine, and for a moment, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the tension simmering just below the surface.

“Do you always blush this easily?” he asks suddenly, his tone teasing but not unkind.

Your fork clatters against your plate, and you quickly press a hand to your cheek, which, of course, only makes the blush worse. “I—I’m not blushing,” you stammer, even though it’s a blatant lie.

Nanami leans back slightly in his chair, his gaze unwavering as he studies you. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he says, his voice low and steady. “It’s charming.”

The word charming rolls off his tongue with such ease that you’re left momentarily speechless. You take another sip of wine, hoping the alcohol will calm your nerves, but it only seems to amplify the way your heart pounds in your chest.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” you accuse softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Doing what?”

“Making me flustered,” you reply, refusing to meet his gaze. “You’re teasing me.”

His smile deepens, though his tone remains as gentlemanly as ever. “Am I? I didn’t realize I had that effect on you.”

You let out a huff, half-exasperated and half-embarrassed, but you can’t deny the way your pulse quickens under his attention. He’s so steady, so sure of himself, and it only makes your own nerves feel all the more pronounced.

“You’re not used to being teased, are you?” he asks, his voice softening slightly, though the teasing glint in his eyes remains.

“Not like this,” you admit quietly, fidgeting with the stem of your wine glass.

Nanami doesn’t reply immediately, but the way he looks at you—calm, steady, and undeniably masculine—speaks volumes. There’s something in his gaze that makes you feel seen, like he’s not just looking at you but through you, peeling back the layers of your carefully constructed composure.

And the worst part? You don’t mind it.

The conversation drifts into safer territory after that, but the tension lingers, crackling quietly beneath the surface. By the time you both finish eating, you’re acutely aware of how close he’s sitting, of the faint warmth radiating from his presence, and of the way your heart hasn’t stopped racing since he walked through the door.

As you stand to clear the plates, Nanami reaches out, his hand brushing against yours for just a moment. It’s such a small gesture, but the electricity it sends shooting through your veins is anything but small.

“Let me help,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.

You glance up at him, and for a moment, the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. His expression is calm, his gaze unwavering, but there’s a quiet intensity in his eyes that makes it impossible to look away.

“T-Thanks,” you manage to stammer, your cheeks flushing all over again as you hand him a plate.

And just like that, you realize that dinner was only the beginning.

The rhythmic sound of water running and dishes clinking fills the air, a domestic symphony that feels oddly intimate. Nanami stands close behind you, drying the plates and bowls you pass his way, his movements steady and methodical, just like everything else about him. He’s not in a hurry; he never is, and that unshakable calm only makes your pulse race more.

You try to focus on the task at hand—the dishes, the soap, the warm water—but it’s impossible with him standing so close. His presence is magnetic, his broad shoulders and quiet strength commanding every ounce of your attention. The occasional brush of his hand against yours when he takes a dish from you feels deliberate, calculated, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

The plate in your hands is spotless by now, but you keep scrubbing, needing something to keep your hands busy. You tell yourself it’s just habit, that you’re not doing this to avoid turning around and meeting those piercing eyes of his. But then, his voice cuts through the quiet.

“You know,” he says, his tone low and tinged with amusement, “if you scrub that plate any harder, you might actually wear it down to nothing.”

You freeze, heat rushing to your face as you realize how long you’ve been working on the same plate. “I was just… making sure it’s clean,” you mumble, quickly rinsing it and passing it to him without looking up.

Nanami takes it from you, his large hand brushing against yours for just a second longer than necessary. He doesn’t say anything at first, but when you finally glance over your shoulder, you catch the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“It’s clean enough,” he says gently, his tone teasing but not unkind. “Unless you’re trying to impress someone with your dishwashing skills.”

Your breath hitches, and you quickly turn back to the sink, grabbing another dish. “I’m not trying to impress anyone,” you reply, your voice higher than you’d like.

His chuckle is soft but rich, a sound that settles in your chest and makes your heart skip. “You’re a terrible liar,” he says simply, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You grip the next dish a little too tightly, the soap making it slick in your hands. It slips, clattering against the sink with a loud clang, and you wince. Before you can recover, Nanami leans in, his chest brushing against your back as he reaches past you to steady it.

“You’re tense,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly close now, warm and steady in your ear. “Relax. It’s just dishes.”

It’s just dishes. But nothing about this moment feels casual or ordinary. His breath fans across your skin, his presence wrapping around you like a blanket, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close he’s standing, how solid and warm he feels behind you.

“I’m fine,” you manage to say, though the words come out weaker than you intended.

“Are you?” he asks, his tone dipping lower, and there’s a quiet challenge in his voice that makes your knees feel unsteady.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of his gaze, and instantly regret it. His eyes are locked on you, sharp and focused, but there’s something else there too—something molten and heavy that makes your pulse flutter.

“You seem a little… distracted,” he continues, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Did I do something to make you nervous?”

Your grip on the next plate tightens, and you curse yourself silently. He’s teasing you, but not in a way that feels cruel. No, it’s worse—because it feels intentional, like he’s testing you, waiting to see how far he can push before you break.

“I’m not nervous,” you lie, rinsing the plate with more force than necessary.

His chuckle is quieter this time, but no less devastating. “Of course not,” he says, his voice a velvet hum that sends shivers down your spine. “You’re perfectly calm. That’s why you’ve been scrubbing the same spot for the last minute.”

Your cheeks burn, and you drop the plate into the drying rack with a little more force than necessary. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you mutter, finally turning to face him.

Nanami doesn’t even try to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. He leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regards you with that maddeningly calm expression. “Maybe a little,” he admits, his voice light but laced with something heavier. “It’s… endearing.”

“Endearing?” you echo, your voice higher than you’d like.

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze steady as it sweeps over you. “The way you get flustered so easily,” he explains, his tone softer now, but no less intense. “It’s… refreshing.”

You swallow hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. There’s no hiding it now—he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and the worst part is, you don’t want him to stop.

Before you can respond, he steps closer, closing the small distance between you in a way that feels both casual and deliberate. You have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and the sheer size of him—the breadth of his shoulders, the quiet power in the way he moves—leaves you breathless.

“You’re not used to being teased, are you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, his eyes locked on yours.

“I—” Your voice catches, and you realize too late that you’ve stepped back, your hips pressing against the edge of the counter. There’s nowhere else to go, and Nanami is still so close, his presence consuming every bit of space around you.

He leans in, just enough for you to feel the faintest brush of his breath against your skin. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his tone dipping lower, “I’ll go easy on you.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest, and you can’t tell if you’re more terrified or exhilarated. All you know is that you’re standing on the edge of something, and there’s no turning back now.

The air between you is thick and suffocating, charged with something neither of you have spoken aloud but both of you feel. You’re pinned by his gaze, unable to move, unable to breathe, as if the weight of his presence alone is enough to keep you still.

Then, without warning, Nanami moves.

It happens so fast you barely register it. His large hands grip your waist, firm and unyielding, and you let out a small gasp as he lifts you as though you weigh nothing at all. In a matter of seconds, you’re perched on the counter, your legs dangling, your pulse roaring in your ears.

“Nanami—” you start, but the words are cut off the moment he steps between your legs, his hands still holding you steady, his grip both commanding and careful.

He leans in close, his face inches from yours, and for a moment, you think he’s going to say something. But then his lips are on yours, and the world tilts on its axis.

“Kento. Call me Kento, please”

The kiss is nothing like you’d imagined—though you’d imagined it more times than you care to admit. It’s not rushed or frantic; it’s slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that pulls every ounce of air from your lungs and leaves you clinging to him for stability. His lips are soft but firm, moving against yours with a precision that makes your head spin.

His hands shift, one sliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer, while the other cradles the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. The contrast between the strength of his grip and the tenderness of his touch is intoxicating, and you find yourself melting into him, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of his shirt.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips. His eyes meet yours, and the intensity in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, but there’s a softness there too, a quiet restraint that makes your chest ache.

You swallow hard, your fingers still fisting his shirt as if letting go would send you tumbling into the abyss. “Kento, I—”

He doesn’t let you finish. His lips are on yours again, hungrier this time, and the sheer force of it leaves you breathless. His hands explore your waist, your hips, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

But even in his passion, there’s a control to him, a carefulness that speaks to his nature. He doesn’t rush or take more than you’re willing to give; he waits, letting you set the pace, letting you guide him.

Your hands slide up his chest, over the broad expanse of muscle that feels impossibly solid beneath your fingertips. You can feel the way his heart pounds beneath your palm, and the knowledge that you’re the cause of it sends a thrill through you.

When you finally break apart, both of you panting, your eyes meet again, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small, almost bashful smile.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Me too,” you confess, your cheeks flushing with warmth.

His smile grows, and for a moment, you see a glimpse of something softer, something vulnerable in his expression. “Then let me do it again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours once more.

And this time, when he kisses you, it feels like the start of something neither of you can stop

The dishes now forgotten about as Nanami presses himself between your legs, hands gripping your hips with a need. Your hands now making their way through his neat hair, pulling on the strands of gold, a few of them falling into his face. His lips pressed against yours so feverishly, this kiss was faster now, more passionate now as his hands travelled up your side, his touch burning through you skin.

Your deft fingers are toying with the hem of his shirt now, giving it a gentle tug, begging silently for him to remove it.

He breaks the kiss, and you worry you’ve taken it to far. But when you see that look on his face, his glistening lips and heaving chest you know you’re both thinking the same thing

“Do you want this?” he questions, his voice low and rough.

You couldn’t get your brain to function, too full of sinful thoughts to even produce a sentence. All you can do is nod as you stare hungrily at him, his slightly more disheveled look making him even more attractive.

“Use your words darling, I need to hear you say it.” He’s holding himself back, waiting for his chance. Trying to keep to his gentlemanly mentality, but as his eyes graze over you figure sat so prettily on that counter, he can feel it slipping.

“I want this, ken.” Your voice is hoarse from the intense kiss you just shared.

Ken.

Fuck.

God that sounded so good coming from you. He needed more

Next thing you know you feel the sharp bite of the cool wood of your kitchen table, Nanami had grabbed you, sitting you on the table as his mouth met yours again. He takes his shirt off throwing it somewhere in the room and fuck

Holy fucking fuck

You knew he was built, but oh my god.

He looked like something out of a romance novel, his tanned skin stretching beautifully over his muscles, tensing as he gripped on your body that was dwarfed by his. His forearms - the veins. His fucking abs and that delicious little trail of golden hair that started at his belly button. God you wanted to see where it went, but his trousers shielded it from view cruelly.

You could orgasm from just looking at him.

“Concentrate darling” he murmured against your lips, you could feel the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t your fault he was built like some kind of Greek god. You could only muster a moan in response. that gave him a chance to slip his tongue on your mouth.

He couldn’t believe he finally had you like this, all the times he had gone home after repairing something for you, imaging how he could bend you over that counter you were leaning against while you watched him work, imagining how you would look as he eased himself inside you. And now here you where whimpering into his kisses. Fuck he could hardly think straight. He was trying to be respectful, but it was hard when you were biting his lips after his kisses.

Your own shirt was soon to join his in being discarded somewhere in the room. His bare skin against yours felt fucking amazing, he pulled you close around him, one of his muscular arms wrapping around your back. Your tits pressed up sluttily against his chest and he could feel himself hardening at the sensation.

You made a mental note tot thank yourself for wearing a skirt this evening, giving nanami easy access to the skin underneath.

His huge hands trailed down to your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your legs spread so sweetly for his as he traced over the sensetive skin of your inner thighs, his hands teasing just like his tone as they refused to go any higher than the hem of your skirt. Just dancing at the end of the fabric.

You couldn’t stop yourself, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you pushed his hand up your skirt. He chuckled into the kiss as your eagerness.

With your legs spread so perfectly for him he was able to get a perfect view of your panties, he broke the kiss for a moment as he watched his hand bunch up the fabric of your skirt as it went further and further up your leg, stopping when he spotted the colour of your panties.

They so happened to be red, matching the beautiful floral lace material of your bra as well

Fucking hell

Of course you were wearing a matching set.

“Jesus christ sweetheart, anyone would think you’ve planned this.” He meant for his tone to be teasing, but with you silence and flushed face he knew there was some truth to this fact. God you were going to be the death of him, you were staring up at him like an angel, like you were the most innocent thing ever, but Nanami knew better.

“Shit- you did, didn’t you?” His hand was braver now, ghosting over your clothed pussy as he spoke, eyes never leaving your face. You gasped at the sensation, his touch was good, but not enough - you needed more

“Bet you’ve been breaking stuff around here huh?” Your hips bucking lightly, trying to meet his hand, to get him to apply a bit more pressure. He was lightly hovering over your clit now, he knew what he was doing to you.

“Ken-“ you went to beg him, but he cut you off. His hand pinning your hips to the table, stopping the pathetic humping.

“You naughty girl, messing around just to get me to come over.”

You were fucking gone at this point, your whole body must’ve been a shade of pink with how flustered he was making you. You never expected these sort of words to come out of his mouth, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

A sharp tug and you panties were gone, he fucking ripped them off you. You gasp as you stare at him pocketing the broken material.

“Such a dirty girl..” He trails off, entranced by the sight of your glistening cunt. His eyes were predatory, and you could see his resolve break.

His thick fingers swipe through the wetness of your folds and a echoing moan is ripped from you. He brings his fingers up, holding them in the dim light of the room as they glisten.

“So wet for your neighbour, sweetheart.” He smirks at you, fingers retreating to your begging cunt. delving through your slick folds as you can do nothing but take it, his hand still pinning any movement you attempt to make. The ease at which he was pinning you was an addition to your already fucked out brain.

His fingers quickly found your clit, drawing quick circles around the bundle or nerves. Your hands gripping at the tables edge, knuckles turning white as his movements never ceased.

His jaw tightening, god you were so fucking wet for him. Those gorgeous little whines that escaped you were noises he has only ever dreamed of. He knew he needed more immediately.

He didnt waste anytime before sinking his thick digits into you, relishing in the way your eyes shut and head dropped back, your teeth biting you lip despite the moan that sounded from you. You were wrapped so snug around him, he couldn’t stop from wondering how delicious it would feel as he slid each inch of his throbbing cock inside you.

His fingers reaching so much deeper than yours ever could, brushing against that spongey spot inside of you with each thrust, his palm pressed against you clit as he moved. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached for his muscular frame, pulling him into you as you clung into him. Your head hiding in his neck, crying out for him. Your nails digging into the muscles on his back

“F-fuck” You groaned out, you could hear the sounds you pussy was making as it greedily accepted Kento’s fingers.

“That’s it sweetheart, take it for me. Good girl” he whispers so reassuring, so sensual.

He’s only been fucking you on his fingers for a few minutes, but you could already feel your orgasm impending.

His fingers were like nothing you had ever felt before, better than any stupid toy you have bought, trying to imagine him while you were fucking yourself, better than any expensive vibrator.

“Ken-Please! Ah-‘ In that moment you didn’t know exactly what it was you were begging for, but you knew you just needed more. Your orgasm have never approached so strong before, your body tingling with excitement for the orgasm that was approaching. A smile on your fucked out face, a dry laugh interrupted by a moan. Fuck this was good.

Your manners never leaving you, even as you came on his fingers as he held you close, intense waves of pleasure wagging over your body as you shook. Even as your small frame trembled he didn’t stop, he wanted you to get the most out of how good you were feeling

“good girl” he kissed you head as your breathing started to slow, your chest heaving as you tried to suck in air. You can’t even remember the last time you had cum that hard - you don’t think you ever had.

Slowly pulling your head out of the crease of his neck, staring up at him with pure adoration in your eyes, it was enough for you to confess your love for him in that very moment. But it would be best to save that for later you thought.

“Im not finished with you yet love. Bend over this table and let me fix this leaking pussy of yours.” His voice was deep, laced with the lust that filled the air.

Without a second thought you comply, jumping down off the table, bending over. Soaked cunt on full display

Kento cursed himself mentally, it was going to be hard from holding himself back from splitting you in half. You were so good, too good. The way you listened so perfectly, and that look in your eyes after you came almost gave him a heart attack.

His warm hands tracing over the skin of your ass, kneading the plump skin between his hands. Relishing in the feeling of your perfectly soft skin. He couldn’t help and admire how perfect you looked for him.

You were practically quivering from excitement. You were so wet you were sure it was going to start leaking down your legs if ken didnt hurry up and fuck you. You let out a pathetic squeal as you heard the clinking of his belt as he finally freed himself

His throbbing cock standing tall as the rosy red tip leaked pre-cum, he didnt think he had ever been so hard before in his life. His cock begging to be shoved so deep inside of you it was making it hard for him to think straight.

You waited patiently as he lined himself up with your entrance, only to be disappointed to find he was just teasing you, he slowly drags himself through your wet fold, the stimulation wasn’t enough, but it still had you mewling for him like a bitch in heat.

Even nanami couldn’t take it much longer, watching your hips try and catch him, shuffling back in a silent beg for him to sheath himself inside you. Slowly, teasingly he slipped inside, only the first few inches. But I was enough to have you moaning out for him

“Fuck, More! Kentoooo.” You begged. It felt fucking amazing to finally have him inside, but you needed more and you weren’t feeling particularly patient about it. That delicious burn of the stretch of his girthy cock was only teasing you more. Your mind whirling with thoughts of him fucking you

Those thoughts soon silenced by a swift slap on your ass, leaving the skin blotting with shades of pink as you jolt forward at the sudden contact

“Oh? Where did your manners go pretty girl?” He smooths over the redden skin, admiring how good his handprint looked on your skin “or are you too full of cock to think?”

You’re whining underneath him now, who knew he could be so mean. You loved it. Your cock drunk brain only thinking about one thing as you tried to shimmy your hips back, forcing him further into you. Your hips stilled instantly when you recieved another slap to you ass.

“Shit! Sorry ken, please fuck me.” Much better kento thought to himself. You really needed it soon, your eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill

The golden haired man was generous enough to oblige you more polite request, slipping inside you welcoming cunt even further, balls pressing against your hips when hes finally fully inside you.

The moan that he let out was absolutely guttural, lord you felt even better than he could’ve ever imagined. He hadn’t even moved yet and you were squeezing the life out of him. And that little noise you made, he was going to be thinking about that for weeks. The way you moan so sweetly for him when he finally gives you what you want. That was something he wanted to hear every fucking day

“Good girl” praise had never sounded better than when it came from nanami, that one comment had you whole body on fire. Your tits pressed up against the hard wood of the table, hard nipples tingling against your skin.

Finally he started moving, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, before he picked up his pace, brutally thrusting himself inside your welcoming walls. It felt like he was even deeper than before, like you could feel him in your throat, not that you were complaining of course.

“So slutty for me, begging me to come over when we both knew this is what you wanted all along.” He was rambling to himself, but you were hanging on every word “Not that I care, you could break every - fuck- every piece of furniture in this house and I’d come and fix it. Just to see your face.”

God what a man, how could he be so teasing, so dirty one second. To then hit you with a sentence that had your legs and heart melting for him.

His hand gripping at your hip, while the other snuck up your back, grabbing your hair and tugging at it lightly, raising your head from the table.

He pressed himself deep into you, “you like that sweetheart huh? You like it when im sweet to you?” His movement pausing, ordering your to give him an answer

“Y-yes- Oh Fuckkkk- ken I love it” youre quivering against him once more, the sensations of your previous orgasm still lingering, intensifying ever move the man behind you was making. He seemed pleased with you answer as his hips resumed their merciless thrusting. His bulbous tip hitting that spongey part deep inside your cunt. The one that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, that familiar rising of another orgasm soon approaching

“Fuck you- haha- so perfect for me, so tight.” You were certain you might die if he kept talking to you like this, his rough voice travelling into your ears like honey. You could listen to him for hours.

“Wanted to f-fuck you for hours, but with the way your sweet little cunt is gripping me-“ hes cut off mid sentence to a deep groan. You little minx, you squeezed around him. A broken giggle leaving your lips before he fucked it away, replacing it with those moans he was so enjoying

“Fucking brat, should cum so deep in this pussy- Oh? Does my pretty girl like the sounds of that” that pathetic noise of your whimpers giving you away, shamelessly you nodded your head, you wanted nothing more than to have his cum leaking from your used hole.

You were surely going to be the death of him, so dirty. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, good because neither where you.

“Oh my- im gonna-“ You tried to get the words out, but you couldnt help but gasp as the pleasure of his cock stroking against your velvety walls

“Cum for me pretty girl.” He was fucking feral now, the noises coming for you pretty pussy, those squelches. You were fucking soaked, gripping him so tight. ”Fuck- need it, come on pretty”

It didn’t take much more than that, you were gushing all over him, juices overflowing around his cock. His eyes rolling back at the sight “Kento!” Was the only thing you could think to scream as you came.

Hips hips guiding you through the ride of your orgasm, not stopping even when your thighs were shaking. The grip he had on your hair tightening now as he chased his own orgasm. God he was amazing, almost too good. You couldn’t still yourself from the overstimulation. Squirming against him, mewling for mercy.

“I know baby, I know” he tried to soothe you, his balls tightening.

He came with a moan, your name more specifically. You had never heard anything better.

Hot spurts of cum coating your walls as his hips planted himself deep inside of your begging cunt.

You both stayed like that for a moment, his head drooping as he tried to compose himself, you panting against the table as your legs still shook.

When he was ready, he pulled out of you with a light gasp, helping you up as he carried you bridal style to your bedroom. Helping tuck you into bed after cleaning you both up

You both just lay there, basking in each other presence. His gentle kisses to your head and murmurs of sweet nothing lulled you off into one of the best sleeps of your life

You should’ve invited him over for dinner ages ago.

874 notes · View notes

kyeomofhearts · 11 months ago

Text

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.

+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader

+ word count: 2.7k

+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy. [pls let me know if i missed anything!]

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)

You were tired, very tired.

Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.

Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.

With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.

Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?

What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.

All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.

Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.

Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.

“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.

What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?

And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.

With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.

Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.

“Is there something on my face, birdy?”

You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”

Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.

Oh.

It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...

"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?

As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”

"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.

"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."

Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.

"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.

"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.

"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.

Which it did.

Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.

“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.

“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.

“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!

One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.

He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?

“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.

"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.

"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.

"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.

Or so you thought?

Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.

Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.

"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.

Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.

You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.

Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.

You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?

Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.

[...]

While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.

"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.

"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"

He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?

"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?

His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.

"It's none of your business so stay out of it."

"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.

"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.

"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.

Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.

He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.

Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.

"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.

"Sorry, were you busy with him?"

You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.

Directions? Did she really...?

As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.

The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...

Part Two: II

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angel-sweets666 · 7 months ago

Text

stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

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cowboylikefaith · 2 months ago

Text

with great power...

art donaldson spiderman! au x reader

summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.

warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread

author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!

╰🕸️ ₊✧ ﾟ❤️⚬𓂂➢

"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."

art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"

you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?

now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.

until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.

"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.

"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"

"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."

you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."

"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"

and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.

one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.

"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.

"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"

before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.

"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..

oh my god

"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.

art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.

"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).

you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.

"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.

"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.

at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.

you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.

"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.

art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.

"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."

you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.

suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.

"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.

"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.

you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.

you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"

#mike faist #art donaldson #challengers #challengers 2024 #mike faist x reader #art donalson x reader #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #guys please i was in ap lang i swear i'm good at writing #spiderman

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timmydraker · 5 months ago

Text

CW: drugs

When Tim is seventeen, Bruce gets a call from his principal asking for a private meeting to discuss Tim’s education. It’s not abnormal, but the parent teacher meetings weren’t due for another month and something about the tone of Professor Wilcot’s voice leaves Bruce concerned.

He organises it for the next afternoon and politely tells the timid looking man to please get to the point.

Wilcot answers with a tight lipped frown, “I recently discovered that Tim has a few nicknames. Now, that in itself isn’t a probably but the names themself are… concerning.”

Bruce immediately thinks of Red Robin and worries his son has been caught, but that makes little sense when Tim has shown to be the best at contingencies and secret keeping.

“Such as?”

With a deep sigh the man continues, “Well, there’s ‘Benzo’ and ‘Opi’. As well as ‘27’, which is recently learned references a so called ‘club’ of celebrities who die at that age for-for drug abuse.”

Even if he wasn’t a detective, Bruce could easily put it all together. Benzodiazepines and opioids, both drugs and a number well tied to such a thing all regarding a famed person.

It’s like he’s just gotten inside from being drenched in snow and had hot water dunked on him as dozens of different moments come to mind. He remembers Tim going from being down and low, tired and drained to suddenly being extra alert and chatty. He assumed it was coffee, but Tim often had a red nose and sniffled like mad.

He also got shakes, was made fun of by his brothers for being a sweaty person, and irritable at the best of times. He was jumpy and easily spooked, which everyone connected to him growing up safe and getting no sleep.

Tim also had forgotten basic case information a few times but usually managed to cover it up.

Bruce had noticed and responded by trying to lessen his work load, only for Tim to scream at him, storm off and come back looking drowsy a couple of hours later.

Wilcot doesn’t speak for a while, seemingly giving Bruce the chance to process his words but when he does it’s just to put forward the last bit of evidence Bruce needs.

“I admit it isn’t exactly ethical, but I check Mister Drake-Wayne’s locker and… I thought it would be best if I let you chose how to proceed lest I harm his reputation.”

A bottle, almost empty, of Oxycodone and a half full bottle of Oxymorphone.

Bruce looks away when the last bottle lands on the table, it’s a benzodiazepines called Dalmane and there are no pills because they’ve all been crushed into a powder.

Bruce doesn’t even want to think about how those drugs interact.

Wilcot says one last thing before he leaves the room, quit clearly giving Bruce a moment as the reveal settles in his mind, “Tim is a good kid. He’s kind to everyone and I truely hope he can get help. Please, if there is anything I can do, contact me. Other than that, I will keep this quiet. Please take care of him.”

Let it be said that Bruce Wayne loves his children, he genuinely cares for them and most importantly, he likes who each of them are.

But he’s not always the best father to them, not when he’s too far in his head and his head is too far up his arse.

He tries to confront Tim calmly and with compassion at first but it becomes clear he isn’t qualified to deal with it and he should have gotten Alfred or even Dick. When Batman deals with addicts all he has to do is get them to a hospital and show he isn’t judging them, but with his own son and when he’s not being Batman…

Tim instantly locks up when Bruce shows him the bottles and his defences go straight into overdrive, “Bruce, don’t. That’s not fair! Did you go through my fucking stuff?! That’s fucked up!”

Bruce looses his composure quickly, “Don’t you dare curse at me, Timothy. You are a goddamn hero and you’re doing this? Why did you tell me?! I could have helped you! Why, Tim?! You e seen what people who abuse drugs end up like-“

Tim screams so loud Bruce can practically hear how it hurts his throat, “WHAT FUCKING DRUGGIES?! IS THAT WHAT THEY END UP LIKE?! TOO FUCKING LATE BRUCE, YOU’RE TOO LATE! I GAVE YOU EVERY FUCKING SIGN AND YOU DID NOTHING SO FUCK OFF! I. AN HANDLE IT ON MY OWN!”

“This ain’t handling it, Tim. You’re addicted. You’re erratic, you’re bouncing from mood to mood and, have you seen how skinny you are? I’m worried, Tim.”

Maybe Tim would have been able to handle it better if he hadn’t been a few hours into withdrawal, but all he does is swing. He manages to catch Bruce of guard and hit him square in the jaw, only to realise what he’s done and start hitting himself the same way.

Bruce breaks as he watches his son who is usually so calm and controlled break down in a fit of aggression and pent up energy.

When Tim manages to hit himself hard enough Bruce. An hear a crack from his hand.

As he speaks again he dooms himself to a life time of regret, forever wishing he had gotten Alfred’s advice first.

“I’m sorry son, but until you’re clean, you will no longer be Red Robin.”

There’s a silence before Tim releases a wheezing laugh of disbelief.

It’s soon followed by the most enraged, harrowing scream Bruce has ever heard. It feels as if it shakes the walls before Tim kicks at his father’s stomach and bolts.

Bruce is too stunned to follow and foolishly assumes he can track his son anywhere.

Tim, even after he manages to shakily pull out the Dalmane he had in his pocket just as he passes the gate and take a big inhale, manages to put his mind together enough to remove his watch and key.

Bruce is forced to shamefully admit what happened a few hours later when he can’t find him and realises that Tim isn’t coming back.

Alfred for the first time in Bruce’s entire life actually glares at him.

Dick shouts at Bruce about how unbelievably stupid he is.

Jason just scoffs and says the kid will come back while Damian makes a comment about Tim being weak.

Maybe they would have reacted better if Bruce told them why Tim left, but he shamefully doesn’t want to admit he didn’t notice that Tim was a dealing with addiction under his own nose.

But Bruce has never been good with honesty.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #tim drake is red robin #dc #tim drake is a menace #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #tim drake angst #tim drake centric #tw drugs #drug addiction #please heed warning

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reidtina · 3 months ago

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Vodka Girl

Pairing: jack schlossberg x fem!reader

Content warnings: +18 MDI public sex (im only noticing now that thats kind of my thing now lol), vaginal fingering, petnames (vodka girl, pretty girl, whiskey guy), orgasm, alcohol, casual sex (:()

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: Before Jack Schlossberg was the president of the USA and dated Y/N, he was a recent Harvard graduate and she was a Vogue photographer covering an event at the White House.

a/n: this is kind of a prequel to the president!jack fanfictions on my profile, but can also be read independently. repost and like it if you like it, also requests open for jack and spencer reid! and sorry i disappeared, i was kinda unmotivated and didnt have ideas. its on ao3 too

It had been only a few months since you became a photographer for Vogue and you still hadn’t gotten totally used to the fanciness and all the famous and important people you had to photograph, but tonight was especially important, you were covering an event in the White House, which meant having to be around a few of the most important men and women in the whole country. It’s been hours and nothing had gone wrong so far, so you decided to reward yourself with a little drink, who could blame you? You’ve been working for hours and hadn’t eaten or drunken anything so far. So you make your way to the bar and sit down, but before you could order anything a man sat next to you with a beer on his hand and as much as you tried to stay professional, you couldn’t help but notice he was really hot, he had dark hair, was tall, was wearing a suit, well, every men there was, but he looked better than all of them in it. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite put a name to the face yet, but considering this was an event for high-classed people, it wasn’t surprising people here looked familiar.

You probably shouldn’t have stared so much at his hands, because he definitely noticed, as he said: “No ring”, which really confused you, and he could see it on your face because he felt the need to explain himself “I’m sorry, I thought you were checking my fingers for a wedding ring or something, my bad” He said and chuckled embarrassed, making you join him in the laughter.

“No, I was just impressed with how nice your hands are” the second the words came out of your mouth you wanted to die, why the fuck would anyone say that? Fuck. But somehow that didn’t freak him out or made him get up and leave, instead he laughed and said: “I’m Jack, by the way”

“Y/N.” You smiled politely

“Would you like to come with me, Y/N?” he said near to your ear “This party is so boring” he added. You didn’t know what to do, you were here for work, after all, but it’s been hours and you had taken more than enough photos already, maybe you could give yourself a half hour break. So you nod saying “Yeah, sure, why not?”

“Come on.” he softly laughed as he took you by the hand to the beautiful moonlit garden. He took a deep breath before stopping between a bench and a wall, looking around to check if anyone was looking. He then looked down at the bottle of beer and then at you, smiling before opening the bottle and taking a long sip, making a disgusted face as he pulled it away, “Ah, I hate this stuff.” He chuckled and passed you the bottle.

You take a sip from the bottle as well and agreed saying “Yeah, me too”

He laughed, grabbing the bottle from your hand, putting his lips where yours were just a few moments ago, before taking a sip again, wincing at the bad taste. “I'm more of a whiskey kind of man.” He said, looking at the bottle and then at you with the corner of his eye.

“I’m more of a vodka kind of woman.”

He chuckled again, taking another sip, “Vodka girl, uh?” he said, leaning against the wall and facing you, “Any particular reason why?”

“I like the way it goes down” you say with a smirk, trying to be sexy and funny to impress him. You weren’t usually like this, you tended to act natural around guys, but he’s just so hot you can’t risk being weird or boring.

He smirked too, crossing his arms on his chest and taking another sip before passing you the almost empty bottle. “No reason to be surprised you drink vodka, though, you have the look for it.” he teased, making an obvious look up and down on you.

You tilt your head to the side and raise your eyebrows before asking playfully, yet genuinely curious “What's that supposed to mean?”

He chuckled at your pose, taking the almost empty bottle from your hands before putting it on the bench next to you and taking a step closer. He looked at you up and down once again, a smirk on his lips.

“You look like you have a strong but soft personality, vodka is strong, and you make a soft impression. You also have a sharp gaze.” He said, looking deep into your eyes.

You chuckle, nervous with his sudden closeness “I'll take that”

He smiled, slowly stepping closer until you were pressed against the wall behind you, his hands on each side of you, against the wall, trapping you, but not making full contact with you yet. “So, vodka girl..." he said in a low tone. “What's the story? Here alone?”

“I’m a photographer for Vogue, I’m just covering the event. You?”

He chuckled, slowly resting the tip of his fingers on your hips, moving them slightly to the side, but still keeping a small distance between your bodies.

He looked into your eyes with a smirk on his lips, “I'm just here by myself, politics is a family business, you know?” When he said that, something clicked inside your brain and you realized who he was, he was Jack Schlossberg, JFK’s grandson. “I just graduated college, so now I’m being more active in these kind of events with my family.” His attractiveness was already making you nervous, but now there was his name to make things harder. A Kennedy? Is your dress pretty enough to be around someone like that? How do you even breath? You have to act cool, so you smile. He smiles back “So I see we are the same.” he said while softly caressing your sides up and down, “Both alone at this boring event, no one is wearing a ring, which means we are both single, right?”

You chuckle, you were so nervous, but he’s so nice, so it’s suddenly easier to breath and so you say “I think so, I am at least”

He smiled once again, tilting his head to the side, “I'm single too.” he said, his voice lower and his eyes never leaving yours. He slowly and softly moved his fingers to your hips, “So both single at a boring event, we came here alone and now we are alone in the garden...”

You smile and say “It looks like it, what do you think about it?”

“I think...” he whispered, his fingers digging into your sides on your hips, “I think a pretty girl like you shouldn't be spending the night alone.”

“Oh, yeah? And how are we going to fix this?” you ask, finally thinking you’re being cool enough. He chuckled and finally moved his body fully in contact with yours, pinning you against the wall by your hips, “I have an idea.” he said in a low tone by your ear, his hands slowly sliding up your sides. “Hm, tell me.” you said, knowing you should stop it, but unable to actually do it.

He smirked, his hands now fully touching your body and his lips close to your ear, “I think we should spend the end of the night together...” he whispered, slowly letting his teeth graze the skin on your neck. You smirk “Sounds good to me” no, it doesn’t, what the fuck are you doing, Y/N? You’re working here, for fuck’s sake, why did you say that it’s good?

He smiled and slowly left a trail of kisses on your neck, his body pressing against you even more. “I'm glad you agree, vodka girl.” This nickname made you feel things that you probably shouldn’t be feeling right here, right now, but it’s impossible to contain it when a man this hot is around you. He slowly began moving his lips up to your jawline, “So we have a plan for the night, hm?”

“Yeah, we do, whiskey guy” you hope the nickname does the same to him as it did to you. He chuckled against your skin, “I love that nickname.” he said before putting his hand under your chin and tilting your head slightly to the side, allowing access to more of your neck. He began leaving a few more kisses on the side of your neck, his hand leaving your chin and slowly moving down your body, his fingers tracing your shape.

He began moving back to your ear, his hot breath against your skin as he whispered, “I have one rule, vodka girl.” His fingers played with the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up and exposing more skin, touching it ever so softly. This was so, so wrong but so hard to resist, so you can’t help the words “And what is it?” from coming out of your mouth. He slowly lifted your leg up with his free hand, his fingers digging into your skin while lifting it and pinning it against the wall between his body and yours. So, so wrong. He looked into your eyes as he leaned closer, his face millimeters from yours, almost touching your lip, “You have to be silent.”

Okay, it’s beyond wrong, but it’s so hot. “What? You’re going to do me here?” You ask, still a little nervous and surprised. He smirked, taking your earlobe between his teeth and slowly started moving his hand further up on your leg, his touch leaving you craving more. “Can you be quiet?” he whispered, his lips just above your neck. Fuck it, you only live once or whatever.

“That depends on how good you are” you finally gave in to your desires. He chuckled, moving his hand even further up your leg, the thin fabric of your dress the only thing stopping him from touching you. “Oh, pretty girl, you don't know the limits to my good time.” he said as he started slowly leaving a trail of kisses from your neck to your jaw. “Then I can't promise i can be quiet, I might have to bite you to keep my mouth shut” you smirked. He bit his lip, moving his hand to your hip and pressing his body against yours, the pressure almost making you gasp but you somehow managed to stay silent. “Bite whatever you want, vodka girl, but keep quiet, we're out in the open after all. We wouldn't want to get caught.” He leaned his face closer to you, his nose almost touching yours, “Unless...” he paused, his voice low and seductive, “Unless you don't mind being heard, hm?”

That question brought out a seductive chuckle from you and you asked him: “Does the idea of me being loud out here in public risking getting caught turn you on?” He groaned lowly as he heard the question, his eyes closing from the sound of your chuckle, “You have no idea...” he said, his voice shaky now. His body was fully pressed against yours, and you can feel exactly how it affected him, especially on the spot under his belt.

You fake innocence while playing with his tie. He swallowed hard, feeling you slowly toying with his tie as he tried to form words in his mind, the heat of your touch making it hard to think. He needed no further invitation, the look on your eyes was enough to know you wanted him as much as he wanted you, so he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to a more secluded part of the garden, far away from any guests or cameras, making sure no one could see you.

“You asked for it, vodka girl.” He said as he gently sat you down on a soft patch of grass next to a wall, his body covering yours as he pinned you against the ground, his body pressed between your legs, and his lips just above your neck. He began attacking your neck with kisses, his tongue and teeth now on your skin. He whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “Now be quiet.”

You chuckle as you say “Whatever you say, boss”. He smirked as the sound of your words hit his ear, moving his lips to your ear, “That's a good girl.” He whispered into it. He started leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while slowly moving his hands to the hem of your dress, slipping his hands underneath the thin fabric.

His touch was light and teasing, slowly moving up higher on your legs, “I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours, pretty girl.” he whispered against your neck, his fingers digging into the skin on your leg.

“Then touch me and make me cry out for you” you said, getting bolder and bolder as desire began taking over you, unable to contain yourself, even knowing the dangers of keeping it going, this was John Fucking Kennedy's grandson after all, your grandma probably had the hots for his grandpa and now he was here, about to fuck you.

“With pleasure.” he said as he began moving his hands higher, his fingers feeling your skin as they inched upward, slowly but getting closer to where you craved him. Thankfully you were wearing good underwear. He began sucking on your neck, leaving hickeys where your hair would cover later, thankfully, but still making sure he left his mark as he finally reached the edge of your underwear, “I want to hear you, vodka girl. I want to hear all the pretty noises you make when I touch you. But only I can hear it, got it?” You nod and beg: “Please.” He chuckled, his breath hot against your ear, "Please what, pretty girl?" he teased, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear.

“Please, just touch me” you ask impatiently.

He smiled against your neck, enjoying the way you're melting under his touch. ”Say, please again and I'll give you exactly what you want.” he whispered, his fingers still tracing up and down the edge of your underwear. “Please, I need your fingers deep inside me” you begged, too horny to feel embarrassed. He smirked, his lips hovering over your ear, “That's a good girl.” He didn't make you wait any longer, his hands finally moving where you wanted him, a soft moan escaping your lips almost immediately as his fingers found your entrance and started moving in and out of you. He groaned as you let out a sound, his body still pressing against yours as much as it could “Careful, pretty girl. You don't want to be too loud.” He began slowly and gently caressing your clit with his thumb while still moving his fingers in and out of you, his touch soft but firm, making sure to build up the tension. His lips left your ear and you pull him in for a kiss to try and stay quiet.

He was caught off guard by your sudden pull but quickly melted into the kiss, his tongue slipping through your lips, tasting you, and exploring the inside of your mouth while his hand continued exploring your pussy. You moan softly through the kiss and he lets out a low growl, the sound of your moan only driving him further. He continued to kiss you, his tongue tangled with yours, while his free hand slowly moved up your body, touching and exploring every inch of you. He muttered between kisses, his voice low and ragged, “You taste so good, vodka girl. You made my night"

“Can you please fuck me?” You ask without thinking of the consequences, right now nothing else mattered, only having his dick deep inside you. He groaned at your question, his body reacting to your words and the sound of your panting. “What a polite woman asking ‘please’.” he said, his voice low and seductive, the sound of it sending a shiver through you. He whispered in your ear, “Do you wanna feel me, vodka girl?” to which you couldn't say anything other than “Yes, please.” He smirked, slowly moving his fingers away from your body, leaving you craving his touch.

He let out a deep-throated chuckle, his breath warm against your ear, “You're such a good girl, so I'm going to give you exactly what you want.” his words made your body build up with anticipation.

He began gently biting and sucking on your neck, but making sure not to leave marks where your hair wouldn't cover later, while his hands began to move down, slowly pushing up the fabric of your dress. “Do you have a condom?” you ask and he chuckled, slowly pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. “I do." he said, his voice low and seductive, "I always come prepared.”

You roll your eyes playfully “To this kind of event? What a man whore.” as much as you were joking, you couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy, you must be sick. He laughed, pinning you to the ground again, his body entirely covering yours, “I can't resist when I'm around a beautiful woman like you, vodka girl. You make me weak”

You pushed any jealousy away and asked “Then please fuck me already”

He moved closer to your ear, whispering, “When you ask like that, how can I say no, vodka girl?” and you take it as your sign to start unbuckling his belt, he lets out a sharp gasp at the feeling of your hands on his pants. “Eager, are we?” he said in a low tone, his breathing getting heavier with the way you were touching him. You roll your eyes and tease “Oh, shut up, we have to be quick, you know that” He chuckled “You're quite feisty, vodka girl. I like that.” He leaned in closer, his face hovering millimeters from yours, “But not that quick, though. I'm going to make sure you remember my name when we're done.” he said it as if you could forget him, but his words send shivers up your spine either way and you reply in a whisper “Just quick enough to make sure we don't get caught.”

”Don't worry, pretty girl. I'm used to multitasking. I'll make sure you're completely satisfied, and we won't be caught.” as he finishes that sentence he pulls out a condom from his pocket and pulls his pants just down enough to take his cock out, and fuck, what a dick, it was big and thick, and you knew it'd hit just the right spots. He smirked, his eyes fixed on you as he quickly rolls the condom onto himself, when he's ready he positions himself between your legs, his body pressing yours down, his eyes holding an intense look of hunger and desire, “Are you ready, vodka girl?”

You nod, not finding the words, but that was all the invitation he needed, as he slowly pushed your panties to the side and began pushing it inside you, when he felt how thigh your pussy was, he groaned, the sound deep and full of the need he had for you. Once he had already entered all his length in you, he started moving himself against you, his eyes locked on yours, “Say my name. I want to hear you.” You moan softly at his request “Jack, please”

His body shuddered from the sound of his name on your lips. ”That's a good girl” he said in a low voice. “Say it again.”

“Jack, we have to be quiet” you moan between thrusts.

He started moving a little faster, his body pressed against yours as he whispered, “You're just too sexy, I can't resist you.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him even closer, “You're unbelievable, vodka girl.”

He continued to move inside of you, his body pressing against yours, both your breathes heavy and ragged. “You feel so good. I can't get…” He couldn't find the words to speak as the pleasure continued to build up between you. He was close, and he knew you were close to the edge too. He groaned, his body shuddering, “You're so perfect. I can't hold back anymore. Say my name once again”

“Jack” you moan softly into his ear and the sound of your voice mixed with your hot breath into his ear make his body shudder with release, and he whispers your name back in your ear over and over as the waves of pleasure wash over him.

He collapses on top of you, panting and trying to catch his breath, “You're incredible, Y/N. I wasn't expecting anything like this tonight.” You try to catch your breath as you pull the hem of your dress down again and pull your panties back to their place. He gently rolls onto his back beside you, still catching his breath, and turns to look at you as he removes the condom and pulls his pants up. He smiles, his eyes still holding a hint of desire and satisfaction. “You're quite the troublemaker, vodka girl.” he teased, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face with his free hand.

“I could same the same about you, whiskey guy.”

He chuckled, rolling onto his side to face you. “Me, a troublemaker? I'm innocent.” he says, giving you an mock innocent look before grinning and reaching out to trace a finger along your cheek, “You're the one who got me all worked up, pretty girl.”

As a little bit of reasoning thinking washes over you, you say: “Maybe we should get back to the party now, we can't risk someone seeing us lying down on the garden.” He sighs, reluctantly agreeing “You're right. We can't risk getting caught.”

He sits up, buckling his belt and straightening his hair, before making a knot on the used condom and putting it into his pocket. “Well, this is kinda gross” he laughs and offers you the other hand. “But let's head back in and try to look innocent.” You take his hand while laughing and get up.

He leads you back to the inside, his hand still holding yours. As you enter the room again, you both try to act nonchalant, like nothing happened, but nobody seems to have noticed your absence either way. He whispers to you, trying not to attract attention, “We gotta act natural, vodka girl. Don't want to raise suspicion.” The fact that he’s worrying now when he’s then one that initiated the whole thing makes you chuckle and you say “I think we’re in the clear now”

He chuckles too, the tension of getting caught slowly fading away. “You’re right, looks like we’re in the clear” he agreed after looking around the room. “So, I think I should try to get back to the boring conversations, but before I go, can I get your number?” he asked and after you gave it to him and got back to work, he spent the rest of the night thinking about you, looking around the room, hoping to get a glance of you.

#ao3 writer #jack schlossberg #my fics #fem!reader #smut #kennedy family #female writers #y/n

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bwat5-blog · 1 month ago

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Caitlyn & Violet: A Deeper Look

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

Recently I reached out to the community asking for some requests on angles/ideas/topics and so on that anyone would be interested in my analysis on. A few of you amazing folks responded for which I am extremely grateful. @phoenixlionme asked me to delve into a few points I have never discussed at all, regarding Caitlyn Kiramman, and the way she connects to Vi's heritage and past.

Caitlyn as a bridge between cities

Caitlyn's similarities to Vi's loved ones

Caitlyn compared to the leaders of Zaun (for Clarity @phoenixlionme phrased it as people Sevika has followed, this is just an easier way for me to approach it in my head)

So! to that end, I will be digging into these ideas and expanding my own insight into this wonderful character. As I am so fond of saying, good stories matter. And the continued exploration and discussion of this story and it's characters will help it live on. Thank you.

Caitlyn As The Bridge Between Cities:

When the story begins, Caitlyn and Vi could not be from more different worlds. Vi's life is poisoned with violence and loss, even witnessing the deaths of her birth parents at the hands of Enforcers. In that opening scene, they are monstrous. Emerging from smoke and shadow, dealing death and pain all hidden behind cold unfeeling masks. Her childhood in Zaun has made her a hardened survivor even at such a young age.

But in the sunny streets of Piltover, where Caitlyn has been raised, the Enforcers are smiling, happy symbols of peace and safety. Caitlyn is the daughter and heir to one of the great houses of Piltover. Her name means innovation, wealth and respect. She receives shooting lessons from the sheriff of Piltover herself. She joins the enforcers when she comes of age because the reality she has known has only ever taught her to view them as a force for good.

But of course as the story commences we see these two individuals from totally different worlds come together. Their realities joined in ways both good and bad. So let's dig into this further, starting with the simple stuff.

Vi-

Well to state the obvious, Caitlyn is love with the birth daughter of one of the architects of Zaun, and the eldest adopted daughter of another. Although Vi's place in Zaun likely feels unsteady to her after all that occurs in Season 2, it seems logical to suggest that during the reconstruction efforts after the war and during the restitution efforts towards her people she and Caitlyn's relationship will help bridge the gap in general.

Sevika-

At the end of season two, Caitlyn has given the seat of house Kiramman to none other than Sevika of Zaun. People have done just about everything in their power to pretend this doesn't matter. It does. It just does. I know there were people hoping to see the Piltover elite lined up and executed by firing squad, while Jinx reigned supreme over the flames and was served tea by a chained and forcibly blinded Caitlyn, all while Vi excoriated herself with a flail and sang Jinx's praises loudly for all to hear. But for those of us who were never fitted for our tinfoil hats, this is a massive step.

The council hold the highest positions of power in the twin cities. And now because of Caitlyn, one of them belongs to the undercity. She has literally created a link between the two surrendering her own families power and giving it to the undercity who have never had that voice before. It isn't all encompassing change because that isn't real. It's a first powerful step made by someone with all the power, to start bridging the divide.

The Commander -

Alright. Now we start getting into the more complex part of her relationship with Zaun. Caitlyn's arc is immensely complex and controversial and there is a lot of depth and nuance to this part of her story. I have written about this in HEAVY.. HEAVY DETAIL. So if you would like to see that I would love for you to check it out. But for our purposes here I am going to keep to the basics. Because to discuss how I feel the aftermath of this will lead to her having more of a connection with the Undercity, we at least need to go over what happened. To begin with, lets do a very quick barebones rundown:

Born in Piltover

Entered Zaun with Vi

Reentered Zaun leading strike team. Hunting chem-barons, Jinx, and Shimmer.

Becomes The Commander

Occupation Of Zaun

The War

The Strike Team:

Now, on a logical level only, the strike team did not do anything wrong. The Chem-Barons were dangerous drug lords. Shimmer is an absolute threat to all of the Undercity. And while there is obviously so much more to be said about Jinx, for their purposes they are hunting a dangerous terrorist who just assassinated three of their leaders. Yes. For logic based purposes only this does also includes the Grey. I have beat this horse to death, kicked it while it's down, revived it, and shot it in the head. I am not doing it again here. So I will just say that on a purely logical level, using a non-lethal crowd dispersal weapon on specific targets while hunting dangerous crime lords and a terrorist who likes things that go boom.... Not the worst idea.

The real issue with the strike team's actions, can be discussed in two points:

Caitlyn's motivation-

"Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons, and Living by a couple deadly sins Just to make sure I finish what you began And I ain't afraid to lose a life or ten If it means that I get to win in the end (woo) So I'ma do this on my own, step into the danger zone Pull the pin and watch it blow

I would rather die alone" (Hellfire Arcane)

The problem is that Caitlyn did not lead her team into the undercity to liberate it's people. She did so for revenge. Each action pushing her further and further into her rage and pain. So even though her actions were "pure" her intention was driven by hate.

2. History with Piltovan Oppression-

As stated, the goals of the strike team were pure. And on a purely logic based level, the fan reaction to the grey has been hyperbolic to say the least. The problem is in the history. Uniformed Enforcers using a weapon that no matter how overblown the reaction does make people choke and cough and possibly pass out. It's all just too reminiscent of what the Undercity has been through before.

The Occupation:

So despite this being a massive part of this story, for our purposes here there is not a terrible amount to say. As very rough overview:

Caitlyn has become commander over the two cities during a period of Martial Law.

Ambessa Medarda rules from the shadows using Caitlyn as her scape goat.

All of Zaun has been placed under full occupation until Jinx is found. Dissenters are jailed, there are checkpoints, and it seems as though the Noxian "peace keeping forces" are being as brutal as possible. Therefore driving dissent and anger to even higher levels allowing Ambessa more time to achieve her goals.

Occupation ends when Caitlyn realizes how she had lost her way, turns on Ambessa, and the occupation ends in the days leading up to the final battle.

The issue of course is that Ambessa's part in this aside, Caitlyn was the face of it. And as I have said from the beginning, I am NOT attempting to absolve Caitlyn of her responsibility in what happened. Some portion of our fandom have essentially chosen to pretend Ambessa just strolled in, and offered Caitlyn the job of despot while they held hands and skipped through the torture camps together. You and I know better. But the people of Zaun lived it. And they don't have the benefit of having seen everything we saw and understanding all of Caitlyn's story. So at the end of the day Caitlyn is the face of the oppressive regime that made their lives hell for a few months.

How They Move Forward:

Okay. So tying it all together how could "Commander Caitlyn Kiramman" possibly become a bridge between cities with everything that has happened? Because they are all moving forward. I am not pretending that it is anywhere close to over. In fact as I said earlier when discussing Sevika it is just a step. But Zaunite and Piltovan alike saw Caitlyn almost give her life to end Ambessa. And the two cities fought side by side against the threat to all life that Viktor posed. So moving forward:

Caitlyn is married to a famous Zaunite.

She has given Zaun their first real step toward equality.

Her guilt is going to drive her to keep working to make things better for the Undercity. It doesn't take deep character analysis to see that.

She is a Kiramman. Despite her perversion of her families work with the ventilation during her darkest moments, she has all of that knowledge now. I predict she will keep working alongside Vi to find ways to make things right.

I know people have felt quite strongly that the show didn't do enough to resolve Piltover VS Zaun. But I think people need to remember that as insane and epic as it was, this show was essentially a prequel to our time in this world. There is so much more to come. Caitlyn is a young woman who has made mistakes, but I predict will go on to do great things for Piltover and Zaun both. After all, if the right hand woman of the man who unleashed shimmer on their streets can become their voice in government, and the feared and insane terrorist daughter of Silco can become their hero, maybe their former oppressor can become one of their greatest allies.

Caitlyn's Similarities To Vi's Loved Ones:

This is an interesting one! I honestly had never even considered this sort of thing but when I started digging there are many qualities of those Vi loves that are all collected with Caitlyn Kiramman. I'm sure you could do a massive list for this sort of thing so this is just some ones that stuck out to me.

Jinx:

The parallels between these two characters have become quite well known at this point and for good reason. Their intertwining stories are a massive part of this show and impact both of their characters greatly. But in terms of her connection to Vi, I have one I really want to focus on.

Putting Vi First: Both Jinx and Caitlyn go through a tremendous amount of suffering over the course of this story. Their stories are so in-depth, and complex and layered. And over the course of their stories, they both hurt Vi terribly (obviously there is more to it, there is a lot of nuance to these situations and I'm not dumping on Caitlyn or Jinx. Just staying on topic). But for two characters who are at one point almost sworn enemies, when it comes to addressing the pain of one they love, they are remarkably similar.

Caitlyn- So much happens between Caitlyn and Vi. But when it comes down to it, with Vi angry over Jinx's imprisonment and Caitlyn and Vi still far from totally reconciled, how does Cait makes things right? She gives Vi the choice. She clears the way for her to free Jinx if she chooses. Even knowing that that Vi could take Jinx and vanish forever if she chose, and Caitlyn would never hold Vi in her arms again. She puts Vi first. Even though it could be the end of her.

Jinx- Good lord talk about complicated. The relationship between the sisters is beautiful and heartbreaking in equal measure. There is so much on both sides, but when the moment I want to discuss comes, Vi has come to free Jinx from prison. Jinx knows that Vi has lived a life, consumed by guilt over everything that has occurred. Vi has never allowed herself to choose her own happiness for a variety of reasons. So what does Jinx do? She forces Vi to let her go. She locks her in the cell and gives Vi the permission Vi would never have been able to give herself. She tells her she deserves to be happy, to be with Caitlyn. Because in that moment of terrible sorrow even with all that Jinx is suffering, her eyes are finally opened to how much she loves Vi, and how much Vi loves her.

2. Vander:

Much like Vi and Caitlyn, at first glance it seems almost laughable to try and find common ground between "The Hound Of The Underground", and "The Leader Of House Kiramman". But if we really dig into it, the similarities emerge. In fact far more than I ever would have guessed.

A: Both do something they regret in a moment of deep loss and pain to someone they love.

Vander- We really are never given all the specifics, but whatever Silco became, Vander completely owned his regret and remorse over trying to take Silco's life.

Caitlyn- In that horrible moment after ventilation chamber battle, Caitlyn clubs the woman she loves in the stomach with her rifle stock and abandons her crying in the dark. I could write pages on the evidence of her remorse (and have written quite a bit) but you get the idea.

B: Both can see the truth of Vi's worth.

Vander- "You have a good heart. Don't ever lose it. No matter how the world tries to break you"

Caitlyn- "Despite it all I can tell.. you have a good heart"

This is especially impactful given Vi's struggle to see the worth and value in this part of herself as her story continues.

C: "When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.. whatever happens. It's on you".

Vander- At the moment he is in Silco's clutches, facing death. Vander does not beg for his life. He simply asks Silco to spare the lanes. Spare the Undercity. His self sacrifice continues all through the heartbreaking series of events that follow. Attacking the shimmer mutant, taking shimmer himself to save Vi, and blocking Vi's body with own during the fall.

Caitlyn- Now of course, it would be completely out of character for Caitlyn. But thinking about in strictly what is possibly, Caitlyn had just about any other option if she did not want to stay and fight Ambessa. Let alone on the front line. She knows she played a part it everything going so wrong, and rather than using her wealth and power to escape the fighting, she plants her feet and faces down the devil who almost took her soul forever. Never-mind the fact that she rips that knife out of her own body to help finish Ambessa, knowing full well that may well be the end of her.

*Caitlyn laying down her hate for Jinx in favor of her love for Vi works here as well*

Caitlyn's Reflection Of The Leaders Of Zaun:

Each of the three here have in some way shape or form been leaders to the people of the Undercity. And for a character who became such a figure of oppression to the people of Zaun, Caitlyn Kiramman shares a lot with all three of these figures. We have discussed Vander and Jinx. But I wanted to talk about Silco for a moment:

Finding "Strength" out of pain:

Silco- In the wake of Vander's betrayal, he reinvents himself. Believing only in the strength needed to destroy those he views as his enemy. Even if it means betraying every ideal he ever had.

Caitlyn- In the wake of her mothers loss and her separation from Vi, she becomes someone the old her would have despised under Ambessa's tutelage. Becoming a better fighter, gaining "control" over two cities, and learning to be ruthless. But in fact surrendering everything about her that made her who she is.

The Difference however, is Caitlyn sees the truth. Because of a variety of factors she sees how far she is fallen and that she has betrayed her belief and her ideals. She sheds her own blood alongside those willing to fight for her to protect all people regardless of the city of their birth. She finds the true strength that Silco couldn't.

Conclusion:

Sorry for the GIF-a-palooza but every time I think about her character her story gets me more and more. She truly goes through so much, learns, changes, falls down and picks herself back up. Thank you again to @phoenixlionme for this opportunity to delve deeper into her character and get me thinking in ways I hadn't considered! I hope some of this may lend itself to peoples understanding of this incredible character and if not hopefully at least the enjoyment of the show. Thank you to anyone taking time out of your day in this mad world to read the writing of a grouchy nerd like me. You will probably never know how much I appreciate it.

Keep standing up for stories that matter. See ya next time.

#arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #vi arcane #arcane season 1 #jinx arcane #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #vander #silco #long... i mean duh. are you new here?

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bucketbueckers · 2 months ago

Text

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER THREE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 7.3k notes: same shit, different chapter, masterlist, content warnings, place name backstory stuff. not my favorite chap but lots of paige & tess content so hopefully that makes up for it being boring af 😸 hope we enjoy 🫶

‘Prepare for Take Off! Tess Kennedy and Paige Bueckers Share Sweet Goodbye in Crowded Airport’

Tess Kennedy and Paige Bueckers have been a trending topic ever since Wednesday morning when fans speculated that Bueckers flew out to support Kennedy during her ACL recovery. In that time, Kennedy and Bueckers have shared a total of five pictures to their Instagram stories, each becoming more and more obvious as to who they are spending time with. Kennedy’s most recent story included a photo of her injured leg in the lap of (you guessed it!) a faceless individual, though just a half hour later, both Kennedy and Bueckers were pictured together at the Columbia Metropolitan Airport.

Onlookers said that Bueckers and Kennedy were attached at the hip, all smiles as they navigated the busy airport. Before Bueckers boarded the plane back to Connecticut, she and Kennedy shared a sweet hug before they pulled away. One commenter said that they seemed to share a few words, then Bueckers was off. Another commenter noted a sort of sadness etched on Kennedy’s face as she lingered. She seemed to be deep in thought. While, obviously, we are not in the business of being mind-readers, it is clear that Kennedy had some strong feelings about Bueckers leaving. In the short three days they have been seen together, their bond is evident, and fans are anxiously awaiting their next interaction.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 6, 2023

Tess is nursing a cup of half-melted ice when the FaceTime call from Paige comes through. It’s nearly startling – she’d been scrolling TikTok for the past hour, trying to distract herself from literally everything. It was difficult at first. Her feed was mostly basketball related things and huge think pieces about her and Paige – people seemed to think that Paige was saving her, which was ridiculous. It took about thirty minutes and countless refreshing, but she’s sure she successfully factory reset her algorithm. She was seventeen parts into a pirated movie and it was nearing the good part when Paige’s contact photo took over her screen.

She accepts the call, forgetting to control her face. “Hey! Woah, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

Paige’s voice flows through her airpods and Tess corrects her scowl, popping another ice cube in her mouth. “You did. I was watching Hidden Figures on TikTok and you interrupted me.”

Paige’s brows furrow dramatically. Tess takes the moment to study her screen, noting the headboard behind Paige and the dim lighting. She’s wearing a pair of glasses that sit low on the bridge of her nose, and judging by the blanket furled around her exposed shoulders, Paige must have just rolled into bed. “My bad, jus’ thought you would wanna talk to your girlfriend or sum’ after a really long plane ride.”

“It was like, four hours,” Tess states, rolling her eyes, though there’s a lingering fondness.

The blonde hums, shifting. “Try four hours and one minute. I sat next to this old guy and he snored the entire time. Like, I had my airpods in and everything and here comes Thomas the fucking train engine and shit. And in case that wasn’t bad enough, none of my teammates could pick me up so I got an Uber home and the driver just kept yapping about how South Carolina destroyed UConn’s last year.”

Tess nearly chokes on an ice cube as she laughs, much to Paige’s chagrin. “Yeah? How’d that make you feel?”

Paige narrows her eyes at her. “Stop gloating.”

“I’m not!”

Paige waves her hand, kissing her teeth before refocusing. “What’s with the ice cubes?” she asks.

For a moment, Tess considers playing it off. She doesn’t want Paige to think of her any differently if she admits the truth about it. She was slowly getting used to feeling guilt all the time, but she was wholly unprepared for the amount of shame weighing her down. Thinking about the fact she drank herself into an alcohol dependence – not addiction; she is not addicted and that’s a hill she’s willing to die on! – is humiliating. Tess would never lord anyone else’s struggle over their head, but it’s different with her. She’s still not sure how to give herself the same grace and compassion she’d give others. Her Uncle Gio had his fair share of alcohol issues, though he was also a war veteran; Tess understands why he’d turn to drinking, but how could their issues ever compare?

She recalls the promise she made to Kam and Bree, to herself, to Paige before she boarded the plane. She gave Paige her word that she wouldn’t do this alone, so she sinks into her pillows and confesses. “The ice cubes distract me from, you know, wanting to drink. Feels like it kills the urge a little bit – I don’t know. It’s probably fucking up my teeth, but better those than my brain and my liver, right?” She tries to mask the discomfort with a laugh, but it sounds dry coming out of her mouth.

Paige’s eyes soften. “Whatever works, right?” she says. “As long as you ain’t replacin’ it with like, chain smoking?”

Tess rolls her eyes, appreciative of the sentiment, but also Paige’s humorous approach as it takes some of the pressure off. “No chain smoking here,” she vows.

The blonde is silent for a moment. “When’d they start?” she prods. “The urges. If you wanna talk about it.”

Tess contemplates her words for a moment. Paige has given her an out, but at this point, she’s not sure if she wants to use it. “Thursday night. Couldn’t sleep at all. I wanted to drink so bad. So I stayed up, ate ice, and watched TV. I was honestly in the trenches but you know…that happens when you drink for a month straight and then suddenly stop.” When she glances down at her phone screen, Paige’s eyes are laser-focused on her, absorbing every word. Tess cracks a small smile. “My first therapy appointment is on Monday, so I’ll see what my therapist suggests. I’m pretty sure the urges will be here to stay for a couple weeks. Sounds more like a fact of life than anything else, I guess, but if push comes to shove, I’ll get Kam to tie me to the bed so I can’t run away.” Paige smirks and Tess rolls her eyes. “Chill!”

“I wasn’t even gonna say nothin’!” Paige exclaims. Tess shakes her eyes, though she can’t keep the smile off her face. “For what it’s worth, ‘m proud of you for, you know…thuggin’ it out.”

Tess grins. “‘Thugging it out?’” she asks in disbelief.

“I’m being genuine,” Paige says with an eye roll. “I’on know what you’re going through besides the knee. I understand that it’s not easy, though. Everyone thinks I’m like, your knight in shining armor or some bullshit, but you don't need me. Yeah, you got me and I’m here to support you, no matter what. But I’m not saving you or anything. You’re doing that yourself. And I think that’s really cool.”

Tess chuckles, trying to ignore just how touching Paige’s words were. “Don’t get sentimental on me now.” She wipes the tear beading at her waterline, and when she glances down, Paige is smiling at her.

“Alright,” she concedes. “I won’t say anything nice ever again.”

“You?” Tess mocks. “Saying nice things?”

“Fuck off,” Paige says. Her words lack heat and her smile brightens. She runs a hand across her jaw, as if deep in thought. “So, about the airport.” Tess raises a brow in what she hopes is nonchalance, trying to keep her nerves at bay. She’s been trying to push it deep into the recesses of her mind, but it’s clear Paige has other plans. “Was it…okay? Like I didn’t make you uncomfortable or nothin’?”

“Paige,” Tess deadpans, smile widening in amusement, but it does little to hide the flush on her cheeks. “It was a hug.”

Paige scratches the back of her neck. “I mean…it – nevermind, forget it,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“It what?”

Paige shakes her head, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “Nothing, don’t worry,” she says, flashing an easy grin, but something in her expression betrays her image of comfort. “Just checking in with you, s’all. Wanna make sure we’re selling the story, yeah?”

Right. The story. Reminding herself that this was all fake is somehow the only thing on Tess’s mind, but she still manages to forget about it at the worst moments. Trying to mask the foreign feeling burning a hole in her gut, she hums. “I think we’re doing a good job. Have you seen those articles on Bleacher Report?”

Paige nods, the tension on her face dissolving. “A couple, yeah.” Her smile turns smug. “D’you actually look sad when I boarded?”

Tess throws her head back with a heavy sigh. “Paige–”

“C’mon, you don’t gotta hide it,” she says teasingly. “Coulda chased me, begged me to stay, all that cheesy romcom shit.”

“Chase you?” Tess guffaws. “First of all, with whose knee?” Paige snorts, tilting her head as if to say, touche. “Second of all, I don’t chase. I have too much self-respect for that.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a laugh bubbling in her throat.

Tess narrows her eyes. “I’m hanging up on you.”

“You won’t.” Tess raises a brow, pressing the red end call button. The silence hardly lasts three seconds before Paige is calling back. Tess answers with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t do that shit to me again,” Paige says, indignant.

“Who’s chasing now?” Tess asks smugly.

Paige rubs the back of her neck again, having the decency to look caught, but she smiles at Tess regardless. “I’mma let you go take a nap,” she declares. “Let you sleep off this attitude.” Tess shakes her head, but her smile turns fond. “Call me after your appointment tomorrow, okay? Lemme know how it goes…if you feel up to it.”

Tess’s face softens. “Sure.” Tess bites her lip in contemplation. Before she has the chance to chicken out, she clears her throat. “Um, I just wanted to say thank you. For….” Tess’s voice trails off, unable to put to words how much Paige’s support has kept her sane for the past few days.

The lighting in Paige’s room is dim, but Tess can distinctly see the way her smile reaches her eyes, the way she understands what Tess is trying to say. “No need to thank me,” Paige says. “Just focus on getting better.”

Tess flashes one last quiet smile. “I will.” With a final farewell, the line clicks dead, and Tess leans back on her bed, releasing a long sigh.

Fuck.

MAY 8, 2023

Sunday passes by in a blur and Tess finds herself awake at 6am Monday morning. Sunday was chill – with nothing better to do, she spent the day (to no one’s surprise) binging more TV and working through some of Craig’s recommended independent PT exercises. She even treated herself to a solid hour outdoors, which, as popular opinion suggests, actually does wonders for your mental health.

She tries her best to ignore the intrusive thoughts at the back of her mind, urging her to go back on her promises. They become less and less appealing as the hours tick by. Sleep slowly becomes easier, though she’s unsure if she should attribute it to finally taking care of her leg or losing the fog that used to cloud her brain.

Just a week ago, Tess was rolling into bed at dawn, well past drunk and in body shuddering pain. Now, she’s on her sixth day of sobriety and genuine rehabbing, and she holds a different kind of hope for the future that she’d never felt before. There’s a small part of her that’s terrified to feel too positive about the days ahead of her considering it’s hardly been a full week, but she can’t help but feel like things are finally shaping up. And at this point, the only thing standing between her and that positive future she can’t stop thinking about is literally her.

Deciding to put a little extra effort in on Monday morning, she forgoes her usual sweatpants and opts for leggings. Between her brace and her knee, she wasn’t quite ready for jeans, but she figured leggings were at least a step up. Tess fully commits to her skin care, fixes her hair in a simple half-up half-down style, and even sends a sweet ‘good morning’ text to the team group chat – although Tessa, her almost-name twin, immediately responds and tells her to ‘take her ass back to bed.’ Tess sends the middle finger emoji and decides they are never seeing her be kind again.

She eats breakfast with Kamilla and Bree, who wish her luck for PT and her first therapy appointment. When she checks her phone for the time, she finds a couple of messages from Paige, which immediately warms her chest.

Morning Tess 🫶 Sent you a lil gift for PT It’s prolly outside your door Be nice to Craig and your therapist

Confused, although she feels inexplicably touched, she slides on her shoes, grabs her crutches, and with a final goodbye to Kam and Bree, exits their apartment. She’s careful when opening and closing the door so she doesn’t damage whatever Paige has sent. A grin slowly spreads across her face when she sees that it’s a cup of coffee tucked into a Starbucks bag. She snags a quick picture of it before carefully leaning down to pick it up. She sends the photo to Paige, leaning against the wall.

so this is actually insane

Just looking out for the people who gotta deal with you No more cranky Tess

did you order yourself something too since you’re ‘dealing with me’

Yeah lol

The selfie comes quickly – a photo of Paige with her lips wrapped around a straw in a coffee cup. She’s throwing up a peace sign for the camera and her face has an obviously smug expression. Tess can’t help the slight flush she feels, so she opts for reacting to the photo with a thumbs-down emoji.

have i mentioned how insane you are

You could start by saying “Thanks for the coffee” or something like that Wait you can post it on your story I didn’t even think about that

i feel like this was your plan all along

It wasn’t Swear I did it out of the kindness of my heart

somehow you just made it even more unbelievable

Believe what you want I got you coffee Post it on your story, be nice to people, and call me later

so bossy

Learned from the best Talk to you soon 🤩

Tess rolls her eyes, but she can’t keep the stupid ass grin off of her face as she swaps over to Instagram and shares the picture to her story. She ponders the caption for an embarrassing amount of time before writing, ‘845 miles away but still sending shit to my door.’ She hits post and slides her phone back into her pocket before walking to the trainer’s office for her PT.

When she arrives, Craig greets her warmly and they get right into it. He takes her brace off and unwraps her knee. Then, he leads her through some of their typical knee exercises, pausing in between for a cooldown where she ices her knee as he explains what their new recovery timeline should look like. As long as she does what she needs to, she likely won’t need her crutches anymore after two and a half more weeks of good behavior. In a couple months, her PT will change course entirely. They’ll begin introducing hydrotherapy and strength building exercises. For the past few days, she’s been working on the range of motion ones, so she’ll end up alternating and mixing the two somewhere down the line. Come February, she should be cleared for full contact practice. If all goes well by March, she should be able to play in full just in time for the last few days of the tournament season.

PT wraps up and Craig rewraps her knee, tightening her brace around it and sending her off with a kind smile and words of encouragement for her therapy session. Given that the university’s counseling center was across campus and Tess was not fucking with that walk, Amaya made arrangements for the psychologist to meet Tess in the athletic facility since she’d be there already for PT. She checks her phone for the room number that Amaya sent her (dutifully ignoring the Instagram notification reading ‘Paige liked your story!’) and makes her way down the hall to the office room.

Tess opens the door to find a shorter woman shuffling papers around on a desk. She looks up as the basketball player walks in, immediately flashing a beaming smile and sticking her hand out for Tess to shake. “Hey! You must be Tess.”

Tess shifts her weight, shaking her hand and returning a quiet smile. The psychologist has wavy, chestnut brown hair and kind brown eyes that have been softened by the passage of time. The crow’s feet and laugh lines on her face provide Tess with a sense of security, reminding her of a distant aunt who used to liven up the room. “Guilty as charged.”

“I’m Dr. Flanigan, but Yvette is just fine. Please, have a seat.” Tess pulls out the chair, slowly lowering herself into it, cautious of her knee. Yvette motions to the adjacent chair. “Would you want to prop your leg up? It might be more comfortable for you that way.”

Tess hesitates, but the comforting expression on Yvette’s face has her worries washing away. “Sure, please,” she says, and the older woman nods as she adjusts the chair and helps lift Tess’s leg to the elevated position. Almost instantly, some of the tension leaves her body and Tess sighs in relief.

“Perfect,” Yvette says, mostly to herself. She takes a seat in her own chair and begins looking through a couple of papers. “So, I see you’ve had quite the month.” Her words aren’t judgmental, just humorous, and Tess can’t help her snicker.

“Something like that,” she agrees.

“But you’re here now,” Yvette muses, sliding a pair of glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “That’s the hard part, isn’t it? Opening yourself up to receive help, putting aside your pride for long enough to realize you need help. I’m proud that you’re taking these steps.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Tess jokes.

“You did,” Yvette says gently. Her eyes sparkle. “Your team gave you an ultimatum, but you could have said no, right? But here you are. It’s early, but you’ve already made so much progress in terms of rehabilitation. Can you share what your mental state has been like since Wednesday?”

Tess pauses to think about her words. Yvette doesn’t push her. Tess releases a breath of air, shifting, before responding. “I’ve been kinda all over the place, I guess. I mean, it was a complete 180 – I showed up to the meeting hungover and by the end of the day, I’d done PT, cried a couple of times, but like, my mind was also clearer… in a way? When I was doing what I was doing, sure, I was conscious of my own destruction, but sitting in front of a bunch of other people and having them tell you that you’re destroying yourself was different. It put things into perspective. Then…around Thursday night, the urge to drink started hitting, so I spent the entire night eating ice cubes and losing my mind.” She glances at Yvette, whose head cocks. “Um, losing it figuratively. It was really hard but I don’t think I was actively crashing out.”

“Perhaps the feeling was more like a battle with yourself for control?” Yvette asks kindly.

Tess opens her mouth, puzzled, then closes it. Damn. Yvette is good at her job. “Exactly like that,” Tess admits. “My body wanted it, but I didn’t want it. I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions – the pull was so strong. I sat for hours convincing myself that I knew what my body needed and not the other way around.”

“That’s a huge part of understanding and processing alcohol dependence,” the psychologist says. “The mentality. Treatment doesn’t always require medication – one of the most common ‘treatments’ is cognitive behavioral therapy, which helps people change unhelpful thinking patterns and reactions. A popular approach is what we call the recognize-avoid-cope method. Recognize your triggers, whether external or internal; avoid tempting situations, and cope with the triggers you can’t avoid.

“So, our two types of triggers – external and internal,” Yvette continues, and Tess listens to her every word. “External refers to your environment. Perhaps a person, place, thing, or time of day. You said your urge manifested at night time?” Tess nods. “For people who drank mostly at night, night time could be an external trigger. Your body gets used to drinking at this certain time, right? Internal triggers can be tricky. Many people struggle with identifying where they come from because they appear to come out of nowhere. However, these triggers can be set off by fleeting thoughts, responses to feelings. I believe in your case, an internal trigger could be a pain response from your knee, yes?”

Tess flushes. “I feel like you’re in my head,” she admits, drawing a laugh from Yvette. Some of the tension diffuses.

“Now that we know what to look for when we face that urge to drink, we can address it appropriately,” Yvette says. “It’s difficult to avoid internal triggers, so we just have to cope with them. Avoiding external triggers are more obvious. You may benefit from avoiding a bar or the liquor section in the grocery store, but you can’t avoid night time. This is where coping comes in. For you, chewing ice cubes was an effective distraction – perhaps one your dentist won’t agree with –” Tess chuckles, “– but it’s that idea that we want to work with. I struggled with alcohol dependence when I was your age. Meditation and yoga helped me out a lot, although those may not work for you considering your knee injury. The good thing is there’s a lot of healthy alternatives. Work on a hobby, talk to someone, take a hot shower – if it works for you and it’s not harmful, then it’s a good method! Remember, it’s all mental – if you feel the urge, challenge it. Find the error in your thinking and replace it. Remind yourself why you’re making this change to not drink. Ride it out. Urges are normal, but they’re temporary; they will pass.”

Yvette’s words leave Tess in a contemplative silence. Tess doesn’t think this first session was supposed to be anything revolutionary – Yvette literally just told her something she could have figured out from a Google search, but the psychologist's words just hit a little different. It’s similar to how she knew she was hurting herself after her injury but hearing it from Amaya, Diana, and Coach Staley rerouted the wiring in her brain.

Yvette gazes at her, calculating, before offering a small smile, like she understands that her words have hit home. She shuffles around her papers again. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to discuss your mental health history and your anxiety medication?”

That, Tess could answer without feeling like her world is going to flip upside down. She and Yvette discuss lighter topics for the remainder of their session, such as how long she’s been taking lexapro regularly, what it was like when she fell off schedule before and after her surgery, and previous psychiatric history. Yvette suggests other coping mechanisms for regulating her anxiety. Prior to the injury, Tess’s main source of relief was basketball; now, she has to figure out what else she could do with her life that doesn’t include sports.

Feeling as though a weight is lifted off her shoulders, Tess thanks Yvette for her time. Yvette sends her off with another gentle smile – and on her walk back to her apartment, Tess can’t help but feel like she’s on the right track.

Tess calls Paige later that day after she’s finally settled into bed. After some light stretches, she presses an ice pack to her knee as she waits for Paige to pick up her call. She doesn’t wait too long before the line clicks through and Paige’s face fills her screen. The blonde is laying in bed, her hair in a bun, presumably, but Tess’s eyes catch on the headset she wears and the familiar frame of glasses. She can see the reflection of the TV through her lenses and Tess raises a brow. “Bad time?” she asks, thinking Paige may be occupied.

“Nah, ‘course not,” she says. “Gimme a sec – I’ll hide in a bush.”

Tess laughs, hearing the slight clicking of a controller before Paige turns her attention to her fully. Tess didn’t grow up with siblings, but she did have many cousins with whom she was very close with – if there was one thing she learned, they rarely paused or stopped playing their games unless it was an emergency or their mother was yelling. “What are you playing?”

“Fortnite,” Paige admits shamelessly.

“So, she flirts like a twelve-year-old and plays games meant for one,” Tess muses.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Shut up, it’s fun. You play?”

“Nope,” Tess says. “Never got the appeal.”

“Dude,” the blonde says in near disbelief. “I got to put you on. Wait, do you even have a PS5?”

“Do you think I do?” she asks. “I’ve done literally nothing but basketball for almost fifteen years.”

“Gotta fix that,” Paige sighs. “Buy one and hop on Fortnite with me. Boom, new hobby and I get a duo.” The blonde grins at her through the screen, excited at the prospect, and Tess finds herself more accepting of the thought the more she thinks about it. Tess opens Amazon, scrolling through the console options and accessories, and Paige notes her sudden silence. “Wait, are you actually gonna get one?”

Tess shrugs a shoulder, smiling slightly. “I mean, might as well, right? I do need a new hobby and I don’t have a lot of options.” She adds the console to her cart as well as a controller, not giving it a second thought before she’s checking out. “Should be here tomorrow.”

Paige pumps her arm in the air, cheering. Tess can’t help but grin at her excitement. “You won’t regret this. Trust. We’re gonna run Fortnite like the navy.” Tess rolls her eyes good-naturedly as Paige adjusts her phone, flashing another smile. “So, what’s up with you? How was PT and therapy?”

Tess hums. “PT was the same as always. Still a little early to tell, but Craig says if everything goes according to plan, I should hopefully be back in time for the last month of games. Thinking about playing again is literally the only thing keeping my head on straight, so I just have to get my shit together for, what, ten or eleven more months? Easy peasy.”

“You’ll be back on the court before you know it,” Paige says confidently. “Do what you gotta do, but don’t lie just so you can play earlier. Don’t fuck yourself up.”

“Careful, Paige – keep saying nice things and I’ll think you care about me.”

“In your dreams,” the blonde says with a smirk. “Just want you at 100% when we play y’all in March Madness. I won’t have as much fun if I gotta drop 30 on Kamilla instead of you.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Sharks.”

“Shit.”

“Sharks!”

“Sharks – god dammit.”

Paige grins gleefully as they both dissolve into fits of laughter. As she calms, she can’t help but stare at Paige, at the way her face scrunches and the unfiltered joy that permeates her expression. Tess hates how she softens ever so slightly, how any conversation with Paige is enough to collapse the walls she spent so long building. Tess has always been a little caustic, perhaps blunt to a fault, too sarcastic and so uncomfortable in showing affection. But there’s something about Paige that rounds out those edges. She feels like she can be honest; although vulnerability is still a difficult task, she finds that stomaching the thought is a little easier when Paige smiles at her. “So, therapy?” the blonde repeats, her tone light but not pushing her.

Her words drag Tess out of her thoughts. She shakes her head, as if trying to break the thoughts apart. “It was…informative.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, interested. When Tess looks back at her screen, she can see the slight furrow in Paige’s brow, the look of concentration. Tess averts her eyes, feeling her face burn.

She hums, gathering her thoughts. “Basically, I just have to rethink my approach to drinking. Like, recognizing triggers and either just avoiding or coping with them. I do think I have to find something other than the ice. I bit into a chunk weird earlier and almost cried cause I thought I broke my tooth.” Paige snorts. “Not funny.” She raises her hands, grinning, and Tess sighs. “Being emotionally vulnerable is exhausting. I wish I could go play basketball and ignore most of my feelings.”

“Well, not to mansplain, but–”

“I know, I can’t actually avoid them,” Tess grumbles. Paige laughs again, and the sound is infectious enough that Tess can’t help but smile. “It’s barely been a week but I feel like…okay again. Is that a weird thing to say?”

“Nah, I get it,” Paige says. “You will be okay, though. You just need to believe it.”

Tess nods, leaning back in her bed and picking mindlessly at a loose thread on her blanket. “I think I do. Like, it doesn’t feel like the end anymore. I know that I need to put in a lot of work, but at this point, it’s a new opportunity to compete, but against myself, right? I can do that.”

“You can,” Paige affirms. “And you will.” She speaks so casually, as if Tess’s recovery is something that is already gone and past. Like it’s more truth than manifestation. When Tess smiles, Paige adds in a softer voice, “I know you can.”

“...Thanks, Paige,” is all Tess can muster. She tries not to think about it too much – Paige is so close to being fully healed from her own ACL tear. She, more than anyone else in Tess’s life currently, knows what that process is like, how the mental anguish affects you, how debilitating the pain is most days. Paige knows what it’s like to survive that. The sheer confidence, the belief that Tess can survive it means more to her than Paige will probably ever know. “Your turn, though. How’s, uh, Storrs?”

Paige shoots her a scandalized look. “You say that like Columbia is any cooler.”

Tess laughs. “Well, it’s no Brooklyn – but you know damn well that UConn is the only reason why Storrs has any relevance.”

“I’m startin’ to wonder if there’s anything you like about me,” Paige grumbles.

“I like it when you’re quiet,” Tess says.

“You called me!”

“I like it when you say the sweetest things,” Tess continues, purposefully ignoring Paige. “Like when you say I’m full of sharks or when you said we were star-crossed lovers because Caitlin broke my ankles.”

Paige huffs, trying – and failing – to hide the frown on her face. “You should not be talking about other women when you’re on the phone with your girlfriend. That’s like, relationship rule number one.”

Tess stares at her before erupting into laughter despite the warm, foreign feeling in her stomach. “Are you jealous?”

Paige rolls her eyes, but she angles her phone so Tess can’t see the flush creeping up her neck. “Chill. I’m jus’ saying – wait until that lady from Bleacher Report hears that you’re steppin’ out on me.”

Tess can’t hide her amusement. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Paige seems to forget about her earlier words as she grins proudly. “Been told a time or two,” she chirps.

The South Carolinian guard shakes her head fondly. “Okay, for real. What’s new with you?”

Paige shrugs. “Nothing much, but me and the team’s getting together later tonight ‘cause everyone’s heading home for the summer at some point this week. I’m flying back to Minnesota Thursday morning. You goin’ home, or…?”

“Haven’t thought about it much, honestly,” Tess admits. “My mom called on Sunday and asked if I was, but I’m nervous about flying with the knee and I’d feel bad having my parents drive down twelve hours just to pick me up. I could easily do Zoom or some shit with my therapist, but I feel like I really need good and consistent PT, so I’m not sure if I’d want to leave Craig.”

Paige raises a brow. “You live in Brooklyn, right? That’s where the Liberty is. I saw Sabrina in your comments – you could see if she could get you in touch with their physio.”

Tess laughs, mostly out of shock and because of the absurdity of the offer. “Do you really think I could cold call Sabrina Ionescu and be like, ‘hey, my knee’s fucked, I was wondering if you could see if your team physio would be willing to take over my rehab while I’m home?’”

“Uh, yeah?” Paige says like it’s obvious, her face contorting in confusion. “Have you not been online? Anytime Sabrina’s asked about college athletes or the future of the W, she’s always gassing you up. She might be in love with you, lowkey.”

“You better not be bullshitting me,” Tess says, opening her browser and Googling as Paige huffs dramatically. “You think she’d leave her man for me?”

“Rule number two, Tess Alessandra,” Paige reminds her. “No seeing other people on the DL. And you thought I couldn’t handle it.”

Hundreds of articles appear on her screen. Tess feels something tighten in her chest, even as she jokingly retorts, “It’s Sabrina Ionescu – I couldn’t pass that up.” She opens the first article, eyes scanning the headline as it reads, “Sabrina Ionescu On Tess Kennedy: ‘The Perfect NCAA Shooting Guard.’” Tess’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head, her shock only growing the more she reads.

“D’you seriously not know?” Paige asks curiously.

“No,” Tess answers, and it was the truth. “I stay far away from most basketball reporting and social media. Draft discussions always make me nervous and people always look for a story where there isn’t one. I’m here to hoop, not for someone to debate whether or not I’m the second coming of basketball Jesus.” She reads more, feeling both pleasantly surprised but also touched by how many kind things Sabrina Ionescu had to say about her – it was one thing for her to reach out after her ACL tear, but it’s incredibly flattering to know that she’s had someone like Sabrina in her corner all this time and she never knew it. “Do you really think they could do that?” Tess asks again, referring to their physio situation. “Like, they’re in preseason right now. I feel like their physio needs to focus on making sure their team doesn’t tear their ACLs.”

She watches Paige shrug through the screen, a tender sort of smile on her face. “Doesn’t hurt to ask, right? Plus, I got Husky connections – I can get Stewie to put in a good word.”

“You need to chill, I’m being so for real right now,” Tess says, narrowing her eyes. “You do not need to talk to Stewie for me.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, as if fully grasping what Tess is saying. “I won’t if you don’t really want me to,” she says after a lot of contemplation. “Don’t wanna fight your battles for you, but you know…if I can help, just lemme know.”

“I appreciate that,” Tess says, her voice a lot softer. “I’ll think about it.”

The blonde grins again. “No pressure.”

“So, excited to see your family?”

Paige leans back against her headboard, her grin turning fond. “You have no idea. I feel like Drew grows so much while I’m gone. He’s my little brother. Or was. He’s like a medium brother now.”

Tess can’t help but laugh at Paige’s words. “Yeah? Was he the one who put you on Fortnite?” she teases.

“You act like I can’t make choices for myself,” Paige says indignantly. “I actually put him on.”

“You see how that’s like, worse, right?”

Paige glares at her dramatically, but Tess can easily see the amused smile on her face. “You’re a D1 hater. It’s insane.”

“Been told a time or two,” she says, mirroring Paige’s earlier words, and they both dissolve into fits of laughter. “Do you–”

She’s cut off by the sound of a knock at Paige’s door. The blonde pulls off one airpod, turning to look at whoever’s walking in. “Hey, Lili and I are going to the store to pick up some stuff for tonight – you wanna come?” Tess is unable to place the voice, which doesn’t surprise her, but she watches the hesitation flash across Paige’s face. “Ohhh, are you on the phone with your lady friend?”

“Lady friend is crazy work,” Paige grumbles, which causes Tess to laugh. Paige glances at her screen again, as if studying Tess’s face for a reaction.

“Go hang out with your friends,” she tells her, knowing Paige is the only one who can hear. “Don’t let them think I’m the obsessive girlfriend who doesn’t let you hang out with other people.”

“If the shoe fits,” the blonde teases. Tess rolls her eyes at Paige’s smirk and she feels something simultaneously soften and break apart inside of her. That’s an issue to face another day. “I’ll text you later, okay? Make good choices.”

“Always,” Tess says innocently. Paige’s smirk melts into something more tender before she bids Tess one last goodbye and ends the FaceTime call. Tess exhales, staring at her phone screen, where her and Paige’s earlier text conversation remains. It all feels a little fast, but she can’t deny that she feels so incredibly comfortable with Paige. Sure, she and Paige bicker a lot, but she knows it’s all in good fun and she enjoys their banter and how Paige keeps her guessing. It’s the same way she is on the basketball court, but Tess recognizes something different in their little game: Paige’s slight acquiesce, the natural pauses in any of their conversations where Paige seems like she’s seeing Tess in a different way, understanding her in a way that’s beyond surface level.

It’s a double edged sword. Being known is terrifying. From a basketball perspective, the understanding that comes with knowing your opponent’s every move manifests in quick interceptions, knowing how to guard them on their favorite wing. On a personal level, being known opens you up to those same vulnerabilities. By now, she knows Paige better than that and she trusts that Paige wouldn't go out of her way to hurt her, but it’s hard to escape the thought that by letting Paige into her life and under her skin, she’s effectively arming her with her insecurities and shortcomings.

But at the same time, she’s letting Paige in, and it’s new and scary because nobody outside of Kamilla has ever wanted to look further. Tess has probably curated that issue herself — she keeps her teammates close enough that they’re privy to only 75% of her; that last 25%, each and every ugly thought or feeling or trait she’s ever had is kept so far away from them and Tess herself. Now, between her knee, her therapy and PT, and the whole situation of having to be Paige’s fake girlfriend, she’s suddenly faced with having to show someone a lot more than 75%. And it’s fucking frightening because Paige is getting to know Tess at her worst; although she doesn’t exactly have the option to run, she’s trying to be closer to Tess despite it all. Tess has spent so much of her life being afraid of the day the mirror would shatter and she would have to face the parts of herself she didn’t like. Knowing that she’s still here now, learning to love the girl in between the fractures, and that Paige has a heart big enough to not be offended by the scrapes and the nicks and the lacerations that come with handling something sharp and broken, fills her with an amalgamation of feelings. She’s hopeful, but she’s fearful and hesitant; she’s confused but so incredibly grateful.

So, she takes Paige’s advice and reaches out to Sabrina on Instagram. Tess isn’t alone in this. Between her teammates, her friends, her trainers and coaches and mentors, and now the women in the league, there’s so many people in her life that want to help her succeed if only they’d let her. Sabrina’s response comes 15 minutes later — she’d actually been in the trainer’s office getting her wrist checked out when she got her text. Sabrina said their head athletic trainer, Theresa, would be more than happy to take over her her PT while she’s back in Brooklyn, but obviously they would have to work around the Liberty’s game schedule. They would still be able to upkeep Tess’s three times a week requirement, and honestly, that was good enough for her.

Sabrina’s next message came in after Tess said her thank-you’s, reading:

No problem at all! Super proud of your progress and I can’t wait to see you on the court again. Let me know whenever you’re cleared, I would love to shoot around with you sometime

She decides she’d text Paige later, maybe let her know she was right if she felt like listening to her endless gloating. But she smiles as she texts her mom, telling her that she’s got another trainer lined up if she and her dad would be able to make the drive down to South Carolina.

We’ll be there about noon tomorrow to pick you up, piccola, no drive is too far

Then, feeling both hopeful and excited, she texts Amaya to let her know she’s going home for the summer but that she’ll maintain her PT and therapy sessions, to which Amaya responds with a simple thumbs up emoji that makes Tess immediately regret her thoughtful message. She lets Kamilla and Bree know she’s going and they remind her they’re both a call away if she needs anything. Tess packs most of her things before settling back into bed to relax.

She texts Paige later that night, shortly after midnight when she should have been well in bed, but she was struggling to sleep. Her thoughts were racing, but they were more positive than anything. She was excited to see her parents; she hadn’t really talked to them since her surgery. They had a lot to catch up on. She was anticipating the arrival of her Playstation, feeling unnaturally stoked to play Fortnite of all things, though a smaller part of her that she was slowly coming around to knew she just enjoyed her time with Paige, anyway. Unable to sleep, she writes:

you can say i told you so now the liberty’s trainer will take over my PT

I told you so Does this mean you won’t be gaming with me?

ill see if i can fit you into my schedule me and sabrina are super tight now 🤞

Don’t play with me.

don’t worry paigey you’re still my one and only

Better be Have a safe drive tomorrow 🫶

Tess sends back a single heart emoji, putting her phone on its charger and staring up at the ceiling. After a beat, a slow smile spreads across her face, and she can't help but think that she's making the right decision by letting Paige in.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x oc #uconn #wbb x reader #uconn wbb

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cocobear18 · 3 months ago

Text

Angel - Sam Monroe

Content Warning: 18+, fluff, smut, virginity loss, love confession, all that stuff, idk

WC: 3k+

Summary: Best friend! Sam climbs through readers window, love confessions, and smut follow

A/N: first fic...like ever, so don't come at me if it's shitty, i'm just a girl. also didn't know what to title it but I think sam calls reader angel the most so I just went with that.

Walking into your room after getting home for the day, your school bag down falls off your shoulder and onto the floor before you press play on your CD player, the last thing playing being a playlist Sam had burned recently and left in the machine after his last visit. After zipping down your boots and kicking them off, you pick up your discarded pajama shorts from that morning when you had changed out of them, black with little skulls and crossbones displayed all across them and a hot pink ribbon drawstring and so short your ass almost hangs all out, they were your current favorite. Shimming down your jeans and sliding them on, your phone rings before you can continue changing, leaving you in the tiny tank top you had worn that day.

Digging through your bag to retrieve your phone you see your best friend Sam's name light up on the screen “Hello?” you say, plopping down on the bed and pressing the phone to your face.

“Open your window.” your head pops up and your eyes dart to your window as he taps a few times to signal he is on the other side of the glass.

A groan escapes you as you get up after having just laid down, you hang up your phone and toss it on your bed before walking over and opening the window for him, “You're the only one who uses my window as your preferred method of entrance.” you comment as he climbs in, knocking a few things that sat close to the window over and you watch as his face as he struggles to ground himself.

“Yeah, yeah, it's just that no one has the same determination to see you as I do.” His expression morphs into a smile at you as he stands up straight.

You roll your eyes and start to head back over to the bed, Sam watches your ass as you walk away and he stays in place right where he is. “I like your shorts” he finally follows you and joins you on your bed. “They’re cute”

You look at him with realization “Did you see me change into them? Perv.”, You already know the answer as you see the satisfied look on his face.

“I'm innocent,” His hands shot up in mock surrender, “How was your class,” He asked, not truly interested in any type of academics but pretending to care for your sake.

“Well, it was alright, there were some really nice people taking it, and a cute guy sitting in front of me, there were some girls who had cute style, I might try to make friends with them- maybe. The professor was really nice too, I think I’m gonna like the class” You told him, trying to keep your eye contact with him and not let your gaze fall to his lips and he periodically licked them as he listened to you speak.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “A cute guy? Really?” His face looks unimpressed and he rolls his eyes.

You huff “Out of all of that, that's what you focus on?” You push him slightly and he returns his gaze to you.

“I’m just asking, can’t I ask?” Sam questions with a clear attitude.

“That wasn't even like the top two things you should be focusing on, I mentioned wanting to make new friends and liking the class, you could ask me about that.” He gives you a blank stare as you speak.

Sam digs in his pocket before pulling out a lighter and pack of cigarettes, “M’not that interested in the class” You pull the box out of his hand before he can even pull one out.

He attempts to get it back but you move it to your other hand and stretch so it's out of his reach. “Nuh-uh, I don't want my room smelling like cigs- and I was hoping you’d ask about the girls I mentioned, I think you’d like this one girl.” You gently place the cigarettes on your nightstand.

“M’not interested in the girls either” He lays on his side, his arm propping him up as he still faces you to continue talking. You turn your head towards him and he tilts his own. “How ‘cute’ is the guy? “

You shrug your shoulders “I don't know, cute enough that I'm gonna look forward to going to class, nothing gonna happen though, he seems like one of those guys that just wanna have sex and dip, and I’m not that type of girl.”

His eyebrows raise and he looks too amused for your liking, “Not that type of girl? Alright, Mary, when are you gonna just bite the bullet and fuck someone, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Don’t call me that, can’t believe you found a way to make me regret making you watch Gilmore Girls with me.” Your hands gently play with the drawstrings on your shorts. “And m’not just gonna have sex with some random guy in my class.” You took a pause, hoping he’d take his turn to talk but you were met with an expecting look, urging you to continue. “I’m good with not having gone all the way yet. I don't want my first time to be with someone random, you know that.”

His fingertips find their way to your thigh and he begins to slowly move them back and forth. It wasn’t abnormal for you to talk about sex with Sam, but it was usually him doing most of the talking and his slight touch didn't convince you that you would be able to say anymore without stumbling over every word. “Why are you so curious?”

His hand moves from your thigh up to your hair, slowly tucking one side behind your ear to get a better look at your face, “Just curious.” he says matter of factly.

You stay quiet for a moment, “He just- he's cute, that's it, I always have someone in a class I think is cute, but I don’t know him well enough to envision that - me and him. I haven’t even had a conversation with him, it was the first day, he could turn out to be a shitty person.” Your eyes are darting around him, the way his touch was so gentle against you had you short-circuiting.

You can't stop yourself from quickly looking at his face and your eyes get locked in with his. “So you need to know someone well enough to even think about fuckin them?” He asks.

“Well- yeah, why would I want to have sex with someone I don’t know, that kinda stupid. I’m not gonna fantasize about losing my virginity to a total stranger, well.. besides like- hot celebrities.” You tried to joke but earned no laugh from Sam, much to your disappointment. You weren't completely inexperienced in the intimacy field but something had always stopped you from crossing the finish line. Sam had jokingly volunteered himself when the two of you were in high school but besides your first kiss that was a dare in freshman year nothing had happened between the two of you, everything explicitly intimate you had ever done was with your ex.

He stares at your face for a few seconds “So do you fantasize about me? I’ve told you before that I could be the one…” You watch as the piercing by his lip moves a little, and his tongue fidgets with the part inside his mouth.

You laugh lightly, he’d made similar comments in the past but with no actual promise behind them. “I wanna lose it to someone who loves me, not someone whos’ just doing it as a favor. You do not love me like that, as a friend sure, but I need more than that”

Sam places his hand on your cheek guiding your face to look at him. “(Y/n)-” He pauses, hesitant to continue and the silence is so long that you wish you could read his mind in order to skip this part, “The first time I met you, I needed you. The first time you looked at me- I fell in love. Not only with the way you look but the way you are, the way you love, and the way you treat me- like I'm not just some waste of space. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I love you with every part of me. My mind, my body, my heart, they’re all yours, they all love you.” He reaches out for your hand and guides it to his chest, placing your hand over his heart. You feel as if it beats as if it's going to pop out of his chest and when you look at his face, his eyes are wide, pupils dilated and filled with desire. “You’re like if an angel fell from heaven and landed right into my life- you bless me with your beauty every time I see you and I love you. I always offer myself because I hate the thought of you with anyone else.”

Sam couldn't tell what you were feeling, he wanted to wait for you to talk, but he was so- so impatient. He scooted closer to you and once again guided your face to look at him. His stomach did flips as you looked at him, he loved your eyes and how they flickered up to meet his. He leaned in and captured your lips with his. He tasted like cigarettes, no doubt he smoked one or two while he was outside your window.

If Sam was being honest, he could kiss you for the rest of his life and be content- but he knew he could have more, and not only was he impatient, he was greedy. He needed every part of you, he had been patient enough, and now he needed every inch of you. “Sweetheart can I-let me-” You nod your head, still kissing him and muffling his words as you do so.

He slides off the bed, disconnecting his lips from yours and smiling as you move your face forward, trying to chase his kiss. His knees hit the ground and he looks up at you before peppering little kisses all over your thighs, slowly parting them and placing even more on the inside. His hands slide up and slowly start pulling your shorts down. “This okay?” He asks and you lift your hips, letting him fully remove them.

His eyes focus on your panty-clad pussy, the wet spot in the middle made the dark red material even darker and he couldn't resist sticking his tongue out and liking a long, slow stripe that felt like a messy kiss. He continued to make out with your pussy through your panties, your whimpers filled the room as the music you had put on earlier continued to softly play.

He finally goes to pull down your panties and you let him, his touch is slow, like he’s savoring every moment, the material slowly moves down and when he finally pulls them from your ankles he places a quick kiss on your left thigh. You almost miss the way he pockets your panties. Almost.

He opens your thighs and slots his head right in front of your bare pussy. “So pretty baby, every part of you.”, He uses his thumbs to spread your pussy for him, taking all of you in. His tongue begins to lap at your folds, from top to bottom, trying to taste as much of you as he can. He moves to start circling your clit with his tongue and his fingers find their way to your opening, tracing, and teasing. “You gonna let me fuck you, baby? Gotta stretch you open, make sure it feels good for you, yeah?” He asks, wide-eyed and hopeful, and how could you ever say no?

You nod eagerly “Y-yeah Sammy, just be gentle- haven't had more than like two fingers in me before, and that was a while ago.” He grunts before nuzzling his face back into you, hating the fact that he’s not the only one to see you like this.

He slides a finger in and you moan, he thinks- no he knows- it’s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. It beats any song he's ever listened to and blasted through his speakers. He adds another one, knowing you can take it. His fingers felt so good inside of you, and he could feel how tight you were. He began pumping them in and out of you, his mouth latched onto your clit and he began to suck. Eventually, he added a third, and you were wet enough for him to do so with ease. He felt you tighten around his fingers as your breaths got quicker and this caused him to pull away, not wanting you to cum just yet.

You whine at the loss of his fingers and mouth but he shuts you up by coming up onto the bed with you and kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth and he begins to pull your shirt down. He slides the thin straps down your arms so your tank top rests on your torso and he makes quick work at undoing your bra. His mouth attaches itself to one of your nipples, sucking and licking like he had just done to your clit, using his hand to knead and pinch the other. He switched a few times before you tugged at his shirt, almost begging him to take it off and he complied. Your hands go to undo his studded belt and he lets you continue your actions. You undo the button and the zipper and he does the rest in getting them off of his body, leaving him in only his boxers.

He pushes you back on the bed and hovers over you before kissing you again. His hips come down and he starts to grind his clothed cock on your cunt. You reach down and push the front of his boxers down, eyes going wide as his dick falls to your stomach. “Holy shit Sam, that's not gonna fit inside of me.” he kisses you again, teeth clacking together for a moment, making you giggle.

“It will baby, I’ll make it, I promise, it’ll feel good- gonna make you feel so good.” he rambles before lining himself up with your entrance. “Just gonna start with just the tip.”

You nod, trusting him and you moan as soon as he gets his tip inside of you, he waits all of 10 seconds before begging you for more. You nod and tears start to form as he sinks inside of you. ‘Sammy- hurts” you let out as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

He kisses the tears on the side of your face and they escape your eyes. “I know baby, I know, it’s gonna feel real good soon, just gotta get used to it, angel.” His face moves to your neck and his hands roam all over, waiting for you to give him the okay to move.

After a few moments, you give in and nod your head. His hips begin moving as his dick pumps in and out of you, biting his lip to muffle his moans. He fails, and instead, his moans translate to whimpers as his mouth lays so close to your ear that you hear his noises clearly and in all of their glory. “F-fuck baby, feel so good- like I'm in heaven.” The pain turns to pleasure as he continues his movements.

Your hips begin to lift, trying to get more of him as he comes down to meet you. “Need more- please need more Sammy baby.” Your hands come up to the nape of his neck and you thread your hands into his hair, slightly tugging and earning a loud moan from him and causing his movements to stutter.

He starts moving faster, resting his hands on your hips to hold you steady and closer at the same time and your moans get louder. “Fuckkk- you feel good angel? Yeah? “ His hand snaps to grab your face, forcing your eyes to meet his, his actions starting to become a direct contrast from the gentleness he has started with. “Yeah, bet my dick feels so good inside of you. You’re so lucky I’m the first dick you got inside of you baby.” His thrusts become sloppy and he continues to ramble. “Love you so much- love you- you feel so fucking good around me- so tight I can hardly move- squeezing me so good- fuckkk”

He shuts up as soon as he hears your babbling, pulling you to fuck you deeper and hear you talk, “Mhmmm feels so good so so good Sammy, so big, can feel you all, all of you, mmhmmph love you- love you” His fingers move to your clit as he begins to rub a figure 8 over and over again.

“Say that again- say you love me- keep saying it angel” He starts to pound into you, and your CD player is completely drowned out by the sounds of both of your moans and the slapping of skin against skin.”Love you, Sam, love you, love you love you, Sammy -gonna- gonna cum- gonna cum- gonna cum” You repeat over and over again, not being able to form a proper sentence as he ruts his dick deep inside of you.

His head falls to your neck and his thrusts begin to falter “Gonna cum inside, gonna fill you up- so perfect- so fucking perfect for me” He lets out a strangled moan as he cums and does his best to keep moving to get you to finish. The pattern he's tracing on your clit gets sloppier and sloppier and his other hand moves to play with your tits. “C’mon- cum for me baby, you can do it, I got you.” You let out a moan as you cum, squeezing Sam's dick and you reach your peak he collapses on top of you, his hips still moving slightly and his arms wrapping around you.

Truthfully, he didn't want to pull out of you, if he could, he would spend the whole night buried inside of you, keeping you as close as you could, but you deserved to be cleaned up and taken care of. He pulls out, watching as the mix of yours and his cum leaks out of you, letting out another moan he reaches out, not being able to help himself. He scoops up some of what has leaked out and pushes it back inside of you. You moan as he repeats this action two more times before popping his fingers into his mouth to taste what you two made. You can see the thought flash across his face, “Sam-”

He starts to lap at your spent cunt, “Gotta clean you up, sweet girl.” He flattens his tongue, doing this more for him than you, he relishes in the taste of his cum inside of you. You tug at his hair in an effort to get him to stop but it only spurs him on further. He only stops as you push on his head and start to shut your thighs at the overstimulation.

“S’too much Sam” you whine and he shifts to lay down next to you with a goofy grin on his face, His mouth and piercing glistened with your arousal and combined cum and his hair was messy, sticking up in multiple different directions.

You flip over so you can lay your head on his chest and you feel his chest quickly moves up and down while he tries to catch his breath. He leans down and plants a small kiss on top of your head before you both drift off to sleep.

#sam monroe smut #sam monroe #sam monroe fanfiction #hayden christensen #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen fanfiction #life as a house smut #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fluff #sam monroe life as a house #sam monroe imagine #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you

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botanyshitposts · 5 months ago

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Hey! I'm not a botanist, but I'm in circles where it's a bigger thing and I'm kind of curious about something.

So, from an outsider's perspective, the genus Garcinia has a lot of weird and messy classifications. For example, common species like G. intermedia and G. gardneriana are really similar to Garcinia brasiliensis, to the point that it's pretty controversial if they're actually separate species. The Garcinia species colloquially known as "achachairú" also appears to bear a lot of similarities to that trio (although much less than they share with each other), HOWEVER it's almost exclusively referred to (in cultivation and in studies) as G. humilis, a Carribean species with small oval-shaped leaves, despite actually having very long lanceolate leaves and being exclusively found in the Andean foothills of Bolivia. Also, multiple frequently cultivated species like Luc's garcinia and Russell's sweet garcinia haven't actually been described yet, despite for example the former having a decent amount of scientific interest and frequent genetic testing done on it.

All of these odd classification things and even more others have been pretty well known in my circles for the past 15 years-ish, but still nobody seems anywhere close to a conclusion for them. How long does it usually take for a genus to get organized when it has as many species as Garcinia does? And how do they do it? Do they go around testing every single species or only a few at a time? If a species is currently not named, do the same people usually describe them as part this endeavor, or just leave them for somebody else? I saw Plinia and Artocarpus recently got reshuffled a lot because of some prominent genetic studies on them, and several new species and even genera were added, but it just seems alien to me how stuff like that even ends up happening. There are so many plants out there!

Sorry if I'm asking the wrong person here, but I've been wondering about how this stuff will eventually be resolved for yeeeearrs

There are so many plants out there!

ok im kind of surprised i can offer a few possible answers to this question despite having never heard of this but i think i can. if the question is 'why aren't some plants actually described', this is the primary reason why.

when i was in plant anatomy class in college, the person teaching us was a plant anatomist who assigned us different plants from the greenhouse to dissect and describe in a paper for her, and she told us that we might find something that hadn't been described before, which was pretty shocking to me. what do you mean i could potentially find a new-to-science thing? has nobody in history looked at this plant that's just growing in the greenhouse upstairs??

what she said was that no, sometimes not. there are so many plants out there that it's difficult to do one exact in-depth description and published examination of each species, so what botanists end up doing is doing or finding one in-depth examination of one species in a specific group and assuming that all the others in the group are at least similar, if not the same. which is good because it saves time and works as a shorthand, especially if there's not much funding, but also sometimes it has the potential to overlook more nuanced differences that can go undiscovered for a long time. but that's just botanical species in the conventional sense, which i don't think is as straightforward in what you're describing.

another answer to this question that's more specific to the species you're talking about here is that plants are having sex. they have so so so soooo much sex. few things they enjoy more to be honest. and given that the most conventional (but not only) definition for different species is 'can't have sex with other species because it's too different from them', the lines get blurrier to deal with, and one thing botanists do when the lines between species get too blurry (because of all the sex) is to just assume that they're all part of some kind of hard-to-describe genetic soup with individual plants falling along gradients or spectrums of similarities or differences, and in this case you'll see botanists just name the most prominent species among them and call it the '[most common suspect] complex', which groups together all the ones that happen to be having sex with each other at the same time, just to make them easier to talk about. this typically doesn't mean that they're species-less, but more that they can be thought of as a group with a few distinct points where they can look very distinct, and those points are the species, if that makes sense; see the citrus sex graph at the end for an example.

i also see from a cursory google search that people seem to be planting and eating these in a more widespread way, and people are talking about them on forums and stuff. this is one of the cases in botany where things get tricky, because a person looking for traits in a fruit that's having tons of sex might not actually be looking for the same things botanists are looking for when describing a species-- it might seem easiest to just find which species or few species are the tastiest and grow those, but if it's a genetic soup then all you can really do is do it the old fashioned way and breed individual plants for the traits you want. which, who knows, could end up being a hybrid between all of them.

case in point: again i am not completely up to date with the lore here but i found a forum thread where people were debating which species to plant and the consensus was just to plant multiple species at once, which is fine but is also really funny given that it DOES facilitate even more sex, thus blurring the lines even further and-- if the posters decide to plant the resulting seeds from the fruits-- will create even MORE hybrid plants of no discernible concrete species in the plant soup. the hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid or whatnot. when does one stop calling it a hybrid between two species and start calling it 'the tree in grandma's backyard that's the tastiest of the berries i've tried'? that is the question, truly, one humanity has had for millennia in the search for the tastiest berry, and at that point it might just be easier to call it a variety or cultivar, which are horticultural terms for just that-- a distinct 'kind' among the same species that taste good subjectively and can be reliably rebred and harvested, like all the apple varieties people debate about.

another reason is that plant phylogenies are hard and brain-twisting and plant taxonomists and systemisists are among our strongest warriors. it's not uncommon at all in botany to be researching something and to find out it's been reshuffled because of a new breakthrough on the case a bunch of people more qualified on the subject decided made more sense like a decades later. sometimes species themselves will even change names multiple times if it turns out that it was described earlier by someone else considering the new circumstances. if you're a really unlucky or just controversial plant all this can happen over and over again until, finally, the trees of math have been resolved in a way that makes sense. how long will it take? surely there is a concrete end to the madness? nah. lol

finally, if you're looking into studies on this, you should know that some phylogeny stuff is opinion-based or subjective, especially at first. what counts as a new group for one group of researchers might not count as one for another. so when you see stuff where people are inventing new categorizations or genuses or whatnot or merging multiple ones together spontaneously, it'll depend on how well supported their reasoning is and what the evidence seems to show, and the larger community of plant taxonomists will, overtime, decide what they want to do with that information-- which may include verifying it or refuting it with more evidence. what researchers are proposing when they split stuff off or merge it together is a new or updated model for thinking about existing information, and that model may be more or less useful than the existing one for the means of actually learning more about the plants.

anyway in short there are lots of reasons why this might not be sorted out and the more sex these plants have the longer it's gonna take. i'm strongly reminded of that one citrus sex graph (its this one) (screenshotted to see it on night mode):

#this was so long. did not mean to make it this long #long post #asks #plont asks

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fanficimagery · 5 months ago

Text

Joining the Biz.

When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part One of Three]

Words: 7.7K Author's Note: Never thought I'd wanna write for wrestlers. Just a reminder that I am writing for the CHARACTERS they portray on TV and the way I think these CHARACTERS would be "at home", therefore everyone is single lol. I will tagging this as Jey Uso X Reader, but please be informed that it will not be romance heavy. I'm pretty sure there's not a lot of Jey/Reader interactions, but some of the stuff between them is cutesy rather than steamy. ALSO EVERYONE'S OOC BECAUSE I JUST RECENTLY STARTED WATCHING AND I DON'T KNOW THEIR PERSONALITIES JUST YET.

You're watching the new A Quiet Place movie when your cell rings. Glancing briefly at the screen sitting next to your thigh, you see it's your cousin that you haven't seen in quite a few months.

Pausing the movie, you answer the call. "Dum-Dum, you're alive!"

"Aye, prima, I got a huge favor to ask."

"Hey, YN, long time no talk. How are you? I'm good, what about you, cuz?" You retort a little mockingly.

Dominik sighs and your lips twitch in amusement. "Hi, prima. You good?"

"Never better. Now what do you need?"

The line goes quiet for a few seconds before, "So Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown are gonna be in the same arena next week and with all the wrestlers in one place, the hotels booked up pretty quickly."

"Okay, and?"

"It's in your city."

It takes a moment, but a lightbulb goes off over your head. "Let me guess, you need a place to stay?"

"Not me, but three friends do. They're scrambling right now, cuz. Please tell me no one's moved in since we last talked."

Chuckling softly, you say, "You know I'm gonna be the perpetually single prima." Dominik chuckles on his side of the line. "And my two spare rooms are always ready for a visitor. But if you're really desperate for a third, I don't mind bunking up with someone since my bed is huge. So long as it doesn't piss off any significant other, someone can bunk with me."

"Aw damn. Your bed is comfy as fuck, and you never let anyone in it."

"No, I just don't let you in it, Dum-Dum. I learned my lesson when we were little. You fight in your sleep."

"Do not."

"Do too. Now, am I rolling out the welcome mat or what? And for how long?"

"One sec." You hang on, listening to the muffled chatter. You don't know who it is that might possibly be staying with you, but you do catch Dominik mentioning that someone named Damian could benefit from sharing with you since he's the tallest and would actually fit in your bed. A few more moments and then he says, "Yes, and are you able to host for like a week or so? We'll be flying out early tomorrow morning. I can be at your place with your guests around five or six in the evening."

"That's fine. Do I get to know who I'm hosting?"

You hear Dominik squeak before, "Hi, mate. It's Rhea. Thanks so much for doing this. I really wasn't looking forward to sharing a small bed with someone."

"It's 'ya uce, Jey Uso." You chuckle at his enthusiasm, realizing his energy matches his persona on TV.

"And, uh, I'm Damian. I promise I don't punch or kick in my sleep."

You huff a laugh. "Priest, right? The tall one?"

"Yeah."

"You'll be good, man. The mattress of my bed is literally from one side of the wall to the other. The only way to get on it is to crawl on from the foot of the bed. Just ask Dominik."

"S'true, man. YN has always been weird about her space on the bed. She needs a lot of it."

"But I'll be fine sharing. I just wasn't a fan of waking up spooning or being spooned by a cousin. But walking, talking, kink material? Yes, please."

There's a sharp bark of laughter of who you assume is Rhea.

"What did you just say?" Dominik muses, more laughter ringing out as your words sink in.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, cuz. I'm only joking."

"No, you're not. You totally think he's hot."

"Duh. Ripley, Priest, the Usos, Roman Reigns.. they're all smokin'."

"Thanks, mate!"

"You're welcome, mi amor," you retort. "But just because I think they're hot doesn't mean I wanna be railed by them, Dum-Dum."

"I know." He gives a long suffering sigh that you can't help but smile at. "It's why when I realized we were gonna be in town and these morons needed a place to crash, I thought of you. You won't fuck around with my friends. Not like that."

"Aw, I love you too, cuz. Now get off my phone. I was watching a movie before you interrupted me."

"Alright, alright. I'll text you tomorrow."

"Okay. Bye, everyone!"

After hearing a chorus of byes in return, you end the call and go back to your movie.

After a long morning and afternoon of cleaning and changing out bedsheets for fresh ones, you're finally able to relax. You had planned to make a meal, but not knowing if anyone had any dietary restrictions, you decided against it. Instead, your cousin Dominik assured you that they'd pick up some food on the way to your house for you and themselves since you're hosting them.

You're cleaning the pool and making sure the water is balanced to be of use the next day when your phone pings with alerts from your security cameras out front. When you check it and see a black SUV parked behind your Jeep Compass and Range Rover in the driveway, you put everything away and head inside to greet your guests through the front door.

You open your front door, leaning against the door jamb as you watch the men unload suitcases and duffel bags.

Rhea Ripley, however, is walking up your porch stairs with four boxes of pizza in hand. "Ding dong," she muses.

"Hi," you greet. She manages to balance the boxes on one hand, reaching out with the other to give you a brief hug. "Did you guys have a good flight? Drive?"

"Yeah, dude, it was fine. Just this thing with the hotel was stressing us out, but you and Dom came through for us."

"Well, I'm glad to be of service," you say. Just then, the guys start walking up. "Hey, Dum-Dum."

You offer him a brief hug right before he personally introduces you to Rhea, Damian, and Jey.

"Hey, lil' mama, thanks for doing this. It was really cool of you to let us crash here," Jey says.

"It's no problem whatsoever," you assure him. "Now if you guys wanna come in and set the food in the kitchen, I'll show you around real quick."

Rhea sets the pizzas down on the kitchen island, Dominik volunteers to get drinks out, as well as plates while you show your three guests around. The main rooms they need to know on the first floor are the bathroom, the laundry room, your office in case they have any work that needs to be addressed with a computer, and one of the free guest rooms. Rhea and Jey glance at each other, but when you assure them the two guest rooms are the same size, Jey opts for it and sets his belongings in the room.

Upstairs, Rhea places her own belongings in the second spare room, peeks into the main bathroom between the bedrooms, and then the way Damian smiles when he sees the bed you and him are to share makes you laugh.

"Looks like I'm actually gonna get some good sleep this week," he says as he places his suitcase and bags off to the side. "Hotels really need to make bigger beds for those of us over six feet."

"Goddamn, you're tall," you mutter.

Rhea laughs, even more so when Jey tries to swap places with Damian because your bed looks really inviting as large as it is.

When you head downstairs and back into the kitchen, Dominik asks, "Did you show them the gym?"

"Gym? What gym?" Rhea asks, clearly excited.

You roll your eyes at your cousin. "It's nothing fancy. I just closed off my garage and turned into a gym that's perfect for me."

"I wanna see it."

Chuckling softly, you lead them to your small gym. When you turn on the lights, you say, "It's nothing sophisticated, but it's mine."

"Can we use it?" Jey asks.

"Sure. You probably won't get the workout you're used to with this equipment, but you're more than welcomed to this space."

"As long as we can break a sweat, we're good," Rhea says.

"Question," Damian says, his deep voice sending shivers down your back. It's really unfair that your cousin's friends are so good looking. "Is that a stripper pole?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "Dum-Dum didn't tell you how I bought this house?"

Jey's mouth drops open. "Girl, you a stripper?"

"Was a stripper," you correct him. "But that's a long story. I can tell it over pizza."

As you head into the kitchen, Dominik tells the four of you to dig in while it's still warm. Dominik leans against one of the kitchen counters, you hop up on another, and your three guests take a seat on a stool at the kitchen island.

Only after everyone has downed at least a slice and a half does Dominik start talking.

"Is anyone curious as to why YN has a gym in her home?"

"Because she likes to work out?" Rhea shrugs, glancing around at the random question.

"To keep in shape for that stripper pole we peeped out there," Jey tries.

You grin, shaking your head at him. Apparently, he really wants that stripper story.

Damian, however, seems to piece a part of your story together. "With Dom and Rey in the business, my guess is that you're training for the family business as well."

With your free hand, you touch the tip of your nose and point at Damian with a wink. "Sort of."

"YN used to train with me when we were younger," Dominik says. "Was supposed to join the biz when I joined."

"What happened?" Rhea asks.

"My dad." With a sigh, you set down your half-eaten slice of pizza and take a drink of your soda. "I really love everything about the wrestling life and was stoked to be a part of it when Tio Rey said I had potential. My dad wanted me to head off to college, but my mom wanted me to do whatever made me happy."

"And wrestling made you happy," Jey says.

You nod. "Very much. I started training after school, giving Dum-Dum a run for his money," you muse before turning a little sad, "but then my mom got sick. Her insurance barely wanted to pay the bare minimum, my dad couldn't keep up with the bills, and it was my turn to get an after-school job that paid."

Everyone winces in sympathy.

"After I graduated high school, I knew I needed a job that would pay well without a college degree, so I took up stripping. It took me almost a year to make a name for myself and have some regular customers that showed up for only me, but I did it. I could tell my dad was highly disappointed, but he didn't say shit to my face because my money was making a dent in the bills that had been piling up." You pause to give a sigh. "After five years, the treatments just stopped working for my mom. She passed, my dad and I made plans to purchase this exact house we're standing in, but then his new girlfriend had to go and ruin that."

Dominik chuckles. "Pendeja was under the impression my tio was paying for this house. Little did she know that YN was putting up eighty percent of the cash for this place and was going to be paying the mortgage while her dad only paid the electric and water."

You shake your head as you remember everything you went through with your dad. "We were at the meeting to close on this house when his girlfriend started gushing about the changes she was going to make and how it was her house, and I scoffed. I informed her my name was going to be on the deed, changes would have to go through me and my dad, and that she wasn't going to have a say so like she planned. Only when my dad told me to just let his name and her name be on the deed, and he was serious about it, did I pull out from the deal.

"The homeowners who were selling understood because they'd been dealing with me the entire time, and in front of my dad, promised that they'd hold off if I still wanted the place and would give me time to get the rest of the cash. I wasn't going to agree because I really didn't need a place this big for just myself, but the second my dad called me a selfish bratty bitch did I agree to purchase the house and cut all contact with my dad."

"Damn, girl. That's rough," Damian says.

You nod. "It was, but I made do. I continued to dance to make up the difference, bought this place, and then danced some more to put myself through college. I earned a nice little nest egg while getting a higher education, and now that I work for myself.. I'm golden. I'm peachy fuckin' keen."

"That's what I like to hear," Rhea says, smiling and saluting you with her own drink.

"But that's not all, is it?" Dominik muses. "A little birdie told me that dad's been advocating for you in WWE."

You smile as everyone glances at you. "Your little sister is a narc." Dominik laughs as you explain. "Tio Rey wants me in, not to fight in the women's division but to just be someone on the sidelines to cause interference since I'm so rusty. And since my work schedule is pretty fuckin' flexible, I can swing it. There's just not a storyline that can be easily manipulated to bring in an unknown female."

"Well, whatever happens, I hope you get in," Rhea says. "We need more ladies."

"And look, uce, you can come to Raw with all the cool kids or I can hook you up with my brothers and cousins on Smackdown."

You laugh. "You guys are talking as if I'm for sure going to work in the WWE. It's all just talk right now."

"Well, if you still got that talent from when we were younger," Dominik says. "I'm sure we'll be seeing you on the sidelines soon."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and finish eating."

As everyone finishes up eating, Damian and Rhea take it upon themselves to wash dishes and Dominik takes out the trash since he's on his way out to go get settled in at his hotel.

You walk with Dominik outside, leaning against your porch railing.

"You good, prima?" He asks. You nod, smiling softly. "I just wanna say thanks again for doing this for my friends."

"Don't even worry about it," you say. "I've been bored lately. It'll be nice to have some noise for a little bit."

"Yeah? Well, if you need anything, I'm only a phone call away. Rey too."

"I'll be fine, Dum-Dum. Rhea, Jey, and Damian seem really cool."

"Alright." Dominik gives you a hug. "I'll see you if I'm not busy working. You also have ringside tickets for Monday, so clear your schedule for that day."

"Thanks. Night, Dom."

"Night, YN."

Waking up the following morning, you stretch and quietly groan. For a moment you forget you have guests, but then a deep chuckle from the other side of your bed reminds you that not only do you have guests but that you have a guest in bed with you. You turn your head, spotting a sleepy Damian just waking up himself.

"Goddamn. This bed had no right being this comfortable."

You huff a laugh and roll onto your side, tucking an arm beneath your head. "I take it you slept well?"

"Yeah. It's been a while since I've slept in."

His words slowly make you realize that you've slept in too. "Shit. What time is it?" You sit up, patting the bed around you for your phone until you remember you placed it on the floating shelf connected to the wall above where you had slept. Turning, you snatch your phone and check the time. It's nine in the morning. "Fuckkk," you groan as you fall back against your pillows.

"What happened? You miss work or something?"

"Nah. Nothing like that." You take a moment to yawn. "I just have a routine, and I forgot to set my alarm," you tell him.

He hums in understanding. The two of you go quiet, sleep threatening to take you back under until you feel the bed at your feet shift and jostle. Opening your eyes, you find Rhea crawling into bed, burrowing under the blanket you're using.

"Oi. What are we talking about?"

You chuckle as Rhea snuggles down, hair mused and face clean of her usual dark makeup.

"Nothing. YN was just talking about how she missed her routine."

"What routine?"

"I run in the mornings," you admit. "Wake up at six, run two miles around the neighborhood to get the blood pumping, and then do whatever needs to be done whether it be work-work or house-work."

"What's on the agenda for today?"

"Not a damn thing. I cleared my schedule until the middle of next week," you say. "I'm free as a bird, so if you want to do something in town, I'm down. Or if you have errands to run or need to head to the arena to train, the Range Rover is yours to use while you're staying here."

Damian and Rhea are saying their thanks when Jey launches himself on the other side of you. You groan as the others laugh. "Damn, uce, this bed is huge. You can fit at least one other body in here."

Jey is apparently an affectionate person and has no issue sliding under your blanket as well. But while Rhea kept a few inches between you, Jey practically plasters his chest to your back and snuggles up to you with a content sigh.

You shake with suppressed laughter. "Comfortable, Uso?"

"Extremely. What's everyone doin' today?"

"Priest and I have a meeting with the higher ups," Rhea says. "After that, nothing."

"I'll be making use of the gym here to get the blood pumping," Jey says.

All three go quiet and you only speak when you feel Jey squeeze you around the waist. "Well while you guys are working, I'll be relaxing out back in the pool."

Time seems to freeze before,

"You got a pool?!"

"Yes?" You laugh.

"Alright, change of plans. I'm gonna work out and then float my ass in the pool out back. You got any floaties, uce?"

"Duh."

"Then yeah, we floatin'."

You grin sleepily. "You guys gonna be free for dinner?" At their confirmed status of being free, you say, "I'm feelin' steaks, jalapeño poppers, and roasted corn. Any objections?"

"Nope."

"No."

"Hell nah."

"This arrangement is proving to be better than staying at a hotel," Damian muses. "You sure we're not putting you out?"

"No way. I grew up with big family cookouts, random hangouts, and sleepovers and I miss it. When mom died, dad and I stopped going out as much. Dad's side of the family kind of wanted nothing to do with me when I wouldn't let his then girlfriend take control of the house I was buying, and while I kept in touch with my mom's side of the family, it just wasn't the same."

"Which side does Dom come from?" Rhea asks.

"Mom's." You smile sadly. "My mom and his mom were sisters."

"Family is everything," she says and you nod in agreement. "But blood does not define family. If the rest of your family won't recognize you, we will. You're stuck with us now."

As Rhea spoke, your eyes got a little teary. "Goddammit, Ripley. It's too early to be crying."

"I'm sorry." She laughs and reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

"Come on," Damian eventually groans, reaching over to nudge Rhea. "The sooner we get this meeting over with, the quicker we can get back to chill by the pool."

Rhea groans as she has to get out of bed and Damian immediately calls dibs on the bathroom upstairs as he scoots out of bed after her.

"And then there were two," Jey muses, brazenly pressing his face into the back of your neck as he holds you.

Chuckling, you free an arm from beneath the blanket and then gently slap him on the thigh. "Come on, Uso. Let's get sweaty."

"That's what I'm talking about!"

This time, you bark out a laugh. "Down, boy. We're just going for a run to get that blood of yours pumping before you hit up the mini gym."

"Not what I had in mind, but I'm down."

Since Damian's occupying the upstairs bathroom, you grab an extra toothbrush and toothpaste from your hall closet and head towards the downstairs bathroom where Rhea is. Knocking on the door, you wait until you hear her call out.

"Yeah?"

"Is it cool if I brush my teeth in there? I promise I won't sneak any looks!"

Rhea laughs. "Sure thing, babe. Door's unlocked!"

Your shower stalls have glass doors, so you keep your gaze averted. Fortunately, Rhea likes a steamy shower so even if you had glanced in her direction, all you would see is the outline of her body.

"Didn't want to sneak any looks at Damian?" She muses.

You laugh as you wet your toothbrush and apply some toothpaste. "I still think of that man as walking, talking, kink material-" Rhea barks out a laugh, "-but now that I've met him, he gives off major big brother energy. I do not want to see the peen. Well, I kind of do, but I'm intimidated."

"Oh my god. I'm gonna love hanging out with you this week."

You make quick work of brushing your teeth and washing your face, and then tell Rhea where to find the keys to the Range Rover in case you and Jey leave before her and Damian are ready.

Back up in your room, you get dressed in your workout gear- a cropped dark tank top made out of spandex material and a pair of black and white running shorts. You put on your running shoes, tie your hair up into a ponytail, then grab the strap that your phone zips into before securing it around your bicep.

You run into Damian on your way downstairs, telling him what you told Rhea about where to find the keys to the Range Rover and not to bother locking up if you and Jey are gone before he and Rhea leave. He thanks you for letting them use your vehicle and you head outside into the backyard, stretching in the little spot that you've sectioned off for yoga sessions.

Jey is outside as well, taking a picture of the pool where he's apparently set loose some pool floats and rearranged the chairs off to the side. You shake your head at him in amusement, twisting your body into the runner's lunge twist.

As you're holding the pose, stretching your muscles, you hear, "Look up, sweetheart. Let me see that smile." Instead of just smiling, however, you flip him off. Jey laughs, snapping the pic. "Is it cool if I post that?"

"That's fine."

As Jey does a few of his own stretches, he's messing with his phone. He's smiling the entire time and when he puts his phone away, you finish up your stretching and check his socials to see what he posted and/or said.

It doesn't take you long to find the post on Instagram, a post of two pics. The first is your pool looking rather inviting and the next pic is of you flipping him off. The caption reads, Can't wait to go for a swim, but first I need to get the blood pumping with this peach of a lady and an added kissy face emoji.

"You're ridiculous," you call out and he laughs.

"You see it?"

"Yes." In response to his post, you leave a comment with the middle finger emoji and two blue hearts. "Now come on, Uso. Time to run."

You and Jey round the side of the house just as Rhea and Damian walk down the porch stairs. You tell Damian that the address to your house is already programmed into the GPS should he need it on the way back and he nods, tossing and catching the key fob in his hand. You and Jey then stand side by side on the sidewalk, and after making sure he's ready, you set off at a leisurely pace.

As you round the street corner, you speed up a little more. Jey keeps pace and the only sound for a good while is your feet pounding against the pavement. Several minutes into your run, however, you notice Jey lagging behind. And when you glance over your shoulder to see if he's fine, you see him with his phone out again.

Not wanting to speak and expend your breath, you continue running. Jey follows you, keeping pace once more, and then urging you faster on the way back to your house.

By the time you make it back to your kitchen, you're panting and leaning against the kitchen island. "I'm never running with you again."

"Aw, come on, girl. That was fun."

"For you! What were you doing with your phone out anyway?"

Before he can answer, his phone starts ringing. He glances at it, then at you. "It's Jimmy. Do you mind?"

"Go ahead."

Jey answers what ends up being a Facetime call and you walk around your kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water as they talk.

"Ay, uce, you good?" Jey asks.

"Yeah, but not as good as you apparently. Where the hell you at that you have access to a pool?"

You're mid-sip, grinning against the rim of your glass when Jey points his phone at you. "Mysterio's cuz came through. Say hi." You awkwardly wave at the camera as you hear Jimmy laugh and hear him call out his own hello. Then Jey continues the talk. "So how's the hotel?"

"Boring. We either hang out in our rooms or at the arena. Nothing fancy or fun."

Quickly finding a pen and pad of paper, you jot something down and then slide it over to Jey- Invite him over. Pool's big enough and dinner is on me.

"Ay, uce, who's with you right now?" Jey asks after reading your note.

"Just Solo and Roman. Why?"

Jey glances at you and you nod. "You guys wanna come over? Pool's big enough and YN is grilling steaks tonight for us here."

"Shit. Forreal?"

"Yeah." You call out when Jey looks at you once more. "I just need a headcount so I can go grab the steaks and corn from the store here in a bit. Damian and Rhea are currently at the arena in one of my vehicles, so I'm sure they can swing by and pick you up if you guys need a ride."

"No worries, we got our own ride. We just need an address."

"I'll have Jey send it to you. Are all three of you coming?"

"Sure thing, ma."

Jey talks to his brother for another minute before ending the call, opening up his texts and handing you the phone so you can enter your address. You do so and then after downing your water, you tell Jey you're going to shower before heading out to the store. Jey tells you he'll tag along and to not leave without him.

. . . .

Later, when you're done shopping and preparing the backyard for guests, you smile wide when you spot your cousin walking in with a case of beer and a holler that the party has arrived. Behind him, Jimmy Uso, Solo Sikoa, and Roman Reigns enter.

You greet everyone with a smile and hug (if they offered), then proceed to show them where both bathrooms are and the room that Jey is staying in so they can change into their swim trunks wherever they're most comfortable. Then before you go back outside, you take a moment to change into your own two piece bathing suit that consists of a dark green v-neck top that pulls down over your head like a sports bra and dark green high waisted bottoms that have cutouts along your hips. And since you're not jumping into the water right away, you pull on a loose, white button down shirt with its sleeves rolled up to your elbows and tuck the front hem of the shirt into a pair of cutoff denim shorts.

As you head back out, you pass Damian and Rhea in the kitchen, cutting jalapeños in half and scooping out the seeds so they can put cream cheese in them before wrapping them in bacon.

Dominik is outside, looking everything over before meeting your gaze with a smile. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"I miss hanging out," you admit with a chuckle. "And hosting isn't so bad when all the men are handsome as fuck."

He shakes his head in amusement. "You opening up the hot tub?"

"Should I?" You frown.

"Yes, estúpida. I can guarantee that'll be the hangout spot after dinner."

"Well go get it set up," you tell him.

As Dominik preps the hot tub, you make sure the outside bar is all stocked up. The beer Dominik brought and the beer Jey suggested you buy earlier is in the cooler, the freezer is filled with ice, your blender is clean and ready for margaritas, and there's a whole stash of alcohol in case anyone wants anything stronger.

You're connecting a laptop to the outside speakers when Damian pops up. "Hey, hermosa, the poppers are sitting in the fridge for when you're ready for them. Do you need anything else done?"

"No, sir. You and Rhea are guests. Go change and lounge. I can do the rest."

"Are you sure?"

You smile at him. "Positive. Enjoy your time off, Priest."

"Alright. But hurry up. You deserve to have some fun too before you start cooking."

After shooing Damian off, you head inside to quickly peel some potatoes. Four shirtless Samoans finally walk out from Jey's room, and you have to shoo Jey out when he tries to help out in the kitchen.

"I'm good," you say, swatting at his hands when he tries to grab the potato peeler from the counter. "Go have fun."

"But-"

"No buts!" His jaw snaps shut and you arch an eyebrow at him, silently challenging him to do something about it. Hearing a snicker, you glance at his grinning twin Jimmy and younger brother Solo. "Can y'all please go throw his ass in the pool? Not only did this fool have the audacity to jump into my bed this morning-"

"Rhea was in there too! I thought it was a group thing!"

"-but he snapped pics of my ass on our run this morning."

"You saw those?"

You glare at him, but end up laughing when his brothers look offended on your behalf. "I follow you on Instagram. Of course I saw them! You're just lucky my account is private. Your fans already stalked the hell out of my pages and tried adding me." And before Jey can say anything to defend himself, there's a small scuffle as Jimmy and Solo grapple with their brother before pushing him out the door.

You and Roman follow, laughing and then whooping when Jey gets tossed into the pool. Roman lingers and when you glance up at him, he asks, "You sure you don't need any help?"

"Positive. Go have fun, Reigns. And if you want, the laptop at the bar controls the music. I'm not sure what you like listening to, so have fun making a playlist if you want."

"Will do."

You get back to work in the kitchen, but it doesn't take you long to finish up. There's still a couple of hours before you have to get to work, so you head outside to see what everyone's up to. Rhea and Dominik are laid out on the lounges next to the pool, conversing with each other and with Damian and Roman who are inside the pool but hanging onto the ledge near them. Jey, Jimmy, and Solo are not too far, the three brothers splayed out casually on pool floats.

Taking a moment for yourself, you head to the bar and immediately work on a pitcher of margaritas. Rhea hollers that she wants one and you give her a thumbs up to let her know you heard her loud and clear. On reflex, you dig your phone out of your pocket and leave it on the bar so there's no electronic casualties as you walk by the pool's ledge. Then salting the rim of two margarita glasses, you fill them with the slushie goodness and walk yourself over to where Rhea is just sitting up.

"Thanks, mate." She sips her margarita, humming, and you do the same.

You had only taken your eyes off the pool's occupants for a minute that you don't notice one in particular is missing. When you clock Jimmy and Solo staring at you though, your gaze darts around for Jey. Their smirks grow and you tense up. But before you can question where the troublesome individual is, wet arms come down around you from behind. You yelp and a deep chuckle sounds next to your ear.

"You thought you could get away with siccin' my brothers on me, didn't you? My own blood? Nope. Not today, baby girl."

"Jey…" He starts walking towards the pool and you do your best to push back. Unfortunately, he's stronger. "Jey, I have a drink in my hand!"

"Not anymore." Jey had stopped right at the pool's ledge, right where Roman and Damian were, when the margarita is pulled from your hand. You stare down in shock at Damian who's now sipping it.

"You traitor! I'm giving you the shittiest blanket tonight, Priest!"

He shrugs, grinning. "I'll just steal yours."

Everyone starts chanting to toss you in and your toes curl over the pool's ledge as if that'll keep you from going in. "Jey, if you toss me in, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

You know there's no getting out of this predicament, so you reach back and grip onto the sides of Jey's shorts. "I'm taking you with me."

"Wh-" Before he can get the word out, you fall forward and take Jey back into the water with you.

All his weight falls on top of you as you go under water, but it's not as bad as apparently everyone thinks it is. When you resurface, wiping water from your eyes, you're surprised to see everyone looking quite freaked out. Even Jey looks worried, but you merely laugh in return.

"You good, uce?" Jimmy calls out. "That was a whole lot of fat falling on top of you."

You snort as Jey gasps in offense. "I'm good, Jimmy."

You tread water like a foot away from Jey and start stripping off your shirt and shorts while you grumble. You toss them onto the side of the pool, rolling your eyes when Rhea wiggles her eyebrows at you. Jey looks you up and down, even going as far to dip under the water. When he resurfaces, smirking, you swat the back of his head and end up treading water with him and his brothers for a bit.

Eventually, you all end up hanging out around the ledge and in front of the pool lounges where Damian and Solo have swapped out with Rhea and Dominik. Jimmy is the most vocal about getting to know you, especially when he spots you hanging onto his brother's back with Jey's hands supporting you under your thighs as you talk with everyone. He's never seen his twin so comfortable with someone he's just met like this.

No one bats an eye at your stripper past, hell Roman even cracks a joke about taking up stripping if wrestling ever falls through, and then Dominik happily informs them that you're actually quite the little wrestler yourself. You keep it humble though, telling everyone that you're very out of shape and rusty in the ring, and you're like eighty percent sure nothing will come of Rey's thoughts.

They all try to hype you up into seriously thinking about it if wrestling is something you love, but you brush it all off and tell Dominik to help you bring out the steaks from inside.

After drying off, you get the grill going and then put on an apron over your bathing suit. You get the seasoned steaks going on one side of the grill while Dominik fills the other side with corn on the cob that's been smothered in butter and wrapped in foil, as well as the jalapeño poppers. Then while that's cooking, you quickly head inside to dice up the peeled potatoes before dropping them into a pot of water so they can boil.

You and Dominik remain by the grill to make sure nothing overcooks. Then when you have to head back inside, he keeps watch while you mash the potatoes and make a small pot of brown gravy.

When the food gets taken inside, you set everything out on the kitchen island before calling everyone in. They all flood in with towels wrapped around their waists, and none of the men will serve themselves until you and Rhea have made up your plates first. So while you and Rhea take a seat at the table with full plates, you both watch in amusement as they moan and groan about the smell, practically salivating when they take their own seats with their own plates of food.

Dinner ended up being quite the affair, and you were very glad that you had cooked up more steaks than Jey deemed necessary. Apparently his brothers and cousin could really chow down.

Then after dinner and deciding to let the dishwasher get a workout, everyone takes a moment to let their food settle in their stomachs before heading back outside. Instead of the pool, however, they sink into the hot tub.

Drinks are passed around again and the last thing you remember is laughing uncontrollably with this group of people before everything goes dark.

When you wake up, you have a throbbing headache. But not only that, your mouth feels extremely gross, and you want nothing more than to brush your teeth and eat a mountain of breakfast foods. You take a moment to just lay there and wait for the room to stop spinning, and when it does do you take notice of the weight across your stomach. Slowly, you glance to your right and find Jey sleeping peacefully with his arm draped across you. But for some reason, the bed feels like there's more of a presence in it, and when you glance to your left you can't help but smile.

Next to you and under his own blanket is Jimmy, and then on his other side are Rhea and Damian who are sharing a blanket of their own. You're not sure how you all ended up here, but you carefully extricate yourself from the bed to get some answers. You're still in your bikini and you have a feeling everyone else is still in their swimsuits as well, so you know you're gonna have to do laundry so your bedding doesn't smell like chlorine.

After grabbing a pair of baggy sweatpants, a sports bra, and a pair of socks, you take the quickest shower you've ever taken to get the pool smell off of you and brush your teeth. You wring out as much water as you can from your hair, run a towel through it to soak up some more, and then run your fingers through the strands before tying it up in a messy bun just to keep it all off your neck.

As you pad downstairs and into your kitchen, you find Solo and Roman looking through the cabinets. You take a moment to watch them, grinning when you hear Solo quietly moan about wanting coffee, but not knowing where anything is.

"Two cabinets to your left." Solo jerks in surprise and you grin, walking to the cabinet yourself to grab the coffee grounds. You grab the grounds and filters, handing them off to Solo. "Not that I'm mad about it, but what the hell are you guys doing here?"

Roman's chuckle makes you turn around to face him. "You don't remember?"

"Unfortunately, no. I remember a lot of laughing in the hot tub and then sleeping." You squint your eyes a little, flashes of the night coming back. "Was there dancing?"

Solo snorts as he prepares a pot of coffee. "Do not check your Instagram."

"Aww, man. Who gave me the hard stuff to drink?"

"Your cousin."

"Dominik said you're very family orientated and that you needed last night," Roman says. "Rhea kept you supplied with margaritas, Jey and Jimmy took over the music and there was a dancing competition, your cousin decided shots was a good idea, then you got affectionate like a cat on Jey's lap-" you wince in embarrassment, "-and once the weepiness set in, Dom cut you off."

"And where is my idiot cousin?"

"Back at the hotel. He didn't drink like everyone else did. Solo, Jimmy, and I were capable of driving, but no one wanted to risk it with Smackdown in a couple of days."

"Jey jumped at the chance to bunk with you and Damian, and then Rhea volunteered as well. Jimmy, Roman, and I drew straws, and the shortest one had to bunk in your bed with everyone."

You giggle. "Poor Jimmy."

Solo grins. "He wasn't too mad about it though. He got to slip between you and Rhea."

"But Jey was quick to drag you all the way to the wall to keep Jimmy away from you," Roman muses.

You chuckle, reaching up to rub at your temple as you close your eyes. "Shit, guys. I just met you last night and already I made a terrible first impression."

"Nah, you're good," Roman assures you. "You don't know how bad we needed last night. It's been a while since we were able to unwind and last night was-"

"Exactly what we needed," Solo finishes.

"And besides, it's not everyday we meet a fan that's able to still be normal around us."

You freeze. "Why do you say I'm a fan?"

Roman slowly grins. "Well besides the fact that you have family in the biz, you also spent some time last night doing Ripley's entrance alongside her."

"Oh my god."

"Instagram," Solo says. "Don't check it."

"I hate you guys."

The two men chuckle and your stomach grumbling puts you in motion to make something to eat. Roman helps, pulling out some frozen hash that's in the freezer. He gets that going just as you throw some sausage links into another pan, and then Solo takes over making a huge pan of eggs.

Just as you're setting a plate of toast onto the table, Jimmy comes down. He doesn't say anything, but does grab himself a plate and load it up.

The four of you are quiet as you eat, exhaustion still lingering in everyone.

It isn't until Solo takes it upon himself to clear the table do you realize Jimmy and Roman are staring at you. You squint your eyes at them, then at Solo when he reclaims his seat. "What-"

"What are your intentions with Jey?" Jimmy asks.

You snort, grinning. "What?" Roman chuckles and you glance between the three Samoans. "Is this- is this a shovel talk?"

Jimmy shrugs. "It's not every day that Jey shows genuine interest in someone. We just wanna know where you stand."

Upon realizing just how serious these three are, your smile slowly fades. "I like him. I do," you admit. "It's very rare I connect with someone like I did with Jey…" You trail off.

"But-" Jimmy urges.

"But I literally met him like a day and a half ago! And besides, Jey's life is on the road," you tell them. "Being flirty and affectionate is all that I'm able to give him because if I give more…" You sigh sadly. "If I give more, it's inevitable that feelings will develop on my end, and I won't do that to myself." You pause, letting your words sink in. Your gaze falls to the table and your voice lowers. "As cheesy as it sounds, Jey is my definition of right guy, wrong time."

An arm is slung around your shoulders and then you're pulled into Jimmy's side. "Look at this way, sis. If your unc gets you in, you'll be traveling on the road with us and you can be disgustingly cute with my brother all you want."

"Shut up." You nudge him with your elbow. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to sweat out all this alcohol in my system. I'll be in my baby gym while you do whatever you guys wanna do."

Roman starts to stand. "We need to get to the arena and train. Is it cool if we come back later?"

"That's fine. Like I told everyone else, I'm not working until next week. My house is your house."

"Thank you."

As Roman and Jimmy head off to the bathrooms before leaving, Solo surprises you by lingering behind. You smile at him, letting him say whatever's on his mind.

"For what it's worth, I really hope your uncle's serious about getting you into the business. I think my brother really likes you."

"Aw, Solo," you coo. He shakes his head in amusement as you lean in to hug him. "Outside of the ring, you're a good guy. But inside the ring, I'm sad to say that Roman is still my Tribal Chief."

Solo barks out a laugh. As he pulls out of the hug, he asks, "What are you doing Friday night?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Roman and I are gonna have a face to face in the ring. You think you can crack his facade if I get you ringside?"

"Solo," you slowly smirk, "it'll be my genuine pleasure."

End Note: Alright, this was bad. I admit that. But I'm slightly obsessed with these characters. Why are they so handsome?

Spanish translations: Prima/Primo - Cousin. Mi amor - My love. Pendenja - Stupid girl. Estúpida - feminine version for stupid. Hermosa - Beautiful.

#jey uso x reader #jey uso imagine #jey uso fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #dominik mysterio #damian priest #rhea ripley #jey uso #solo sikoa #jimmy uso #roman reigns #raw #smackdown #monday night raw #friday night smackdown

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hoshinasblade · 7 months ago

Note

Can I hear your thoughts on calling Soshiro the wrong name? Like when I first got into the kn8 fandom, I could never get Soshiro's name right. It's always "Seishiro" as in Nagi Seishiro from Blue Lock 💔. I wonder what his reaction would be to hear his partner calling him a diff guy's name 🤔

this ask has the potential to cause so much mayhem anon, thank you for sending through

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader content warnings: none, just a bit suggestive at the end, established relationship this is super short, but hopefully you like it! my ask is open again for requests but be warned that replies will be delayed. it takes time for me to write, and if i dont immediately vibe with the prompt, that makes it harder for me. i will always reply though because there is not a lot of hoshina stuff around here and i value people's ideas. thank you guys for understanding!

being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend has a lot of perks.

first of all, you had never felt safer anywhere you go when he is accompanying you - it's not that you treat him as your personal body guard, but he cannot help to act like one, always on the lookout to protect you. more than everything, nothing beats knowing the simple fact that you are dating an ultra-handsome killing machine who treats you like a princess.

the thing is, being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend also has some downside.

the worst of all is because the vice-captain is famous, it cannot be helped that women and a few men are all over him, competing for a crumb of his attention.

your smile disappeared when you saw another video from the social media influencer you mentioned to hoshina last week. it was a short edited footage of the vice-captain's brief interview after the most recent kaiju attack - his hair wet from perspiration, his long fingers trying to brush his bangs away from his eyes. how hoshina can still look ravishing after killing kaijus is a mystery for you as well - no one should be allowed to be that hot, you thought. "hoshina, date me," the caption reads in an annoying cursive font. you were going to scroll away when you noticed your own boyfriend's personal account among the few thousands who liked the clip - the icon of his profile is at the top of the list. you closed the app, formulating a plan to exact a cruel vengeance against hoshina.

the chance came that same night when hoshina dropped by your apartment for dinner. the entire week is for saving the country, hoshina would tell you, but weekends are always dedicated to movie marathons and cuddling until one of you falls asleep.

"what's the theme for tonight? any preferences?" hoshina asked, pressing buttons in the remote control as he goes over the directory of tv series and chick flicks. "i'm thinking something scary."

"you know if you are looking for a reason to snuggle with me, you can literally just say that, soichiro." there was no change in your tone as you delivered the line, biting the insides of your cheek so you won't burst out laughing. keeping a straight face was not that difficult because hoshina seemed to ignore you.

"the conjuring, then." hoshina sat beside you in the couch after choosing a title, his right arm going around your waist as he leans into you.

you rested your head on his shoulder a bit and inhaled lightly the scent of his shirt. "you smell nice, soichiro."

hoshina's arm dropped faster than you would have expected, and when you glanced at him, you wondered if you had taken this game a bit too far.

"right, what did i do this time?" hoshina did not bothering the show playing in the television, the opening credits rolling in the screen.

"what do you mean?" your words were hurried because you feel you were going to explode in giggles. it is absolutely funny how the most skilled close-quarters combatant of the defense force can react so strongly to being called a different name.

"come on, you calling me by my brother's name is infuriating enough already. you doing it again is just hurting my feelings now. you're never mean without a reason. what is this about?" hoshina's face is earnest now and admittedly, you felt a tiny tinge of guilt.

you sighed. "i don't know, maybe your fans wouldn't be calling you the wrong name. you should date them instead." it came out of your mouth too bitter, but you could not take your statement back. trust has never been an issue between you and hoshina in the years you were together, but you don't suppose it is wholly your fault when you get affected by little things like this.

"if i wanted to, i would," hoshina answered calmly. "but obviously, i don't. because here i am, proposing we watch something scary so you could snuggle with me."

you chuckled and that finally eased the tension. "i'm sorry. i did not mean to ruin our night," you confessed. "i swear to pretend i'm scared of the ghost in the movie so i can cuddle closer to you."

hoshina's eyes carry a certain sparkle whenever he smiles. he leaned on you again then grabbing your hand, linked your fingers together.

"hey, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you, you know that, right? and i'll always try to do better by you," he said before kissing you.

you and your boyfriend never finished the movie but at least by the end of the night, hoshina had made sure you call him by no one else's name by making you moan his.

#this is so bad im sorry #but i tried #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro fic #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #lian replies

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taylorman2274 · 1 year ago

Text

Reverse Isekai Genshin Shenanigans

Characters: Gorou, Diona, Fischl & Oz

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Gorou and your pet dog have been getting along recently. I wonder why...?

Content Warning: Gorou Hangout Spoilers

Notes: [D/N] = Dog Name; Gorou can read English presumed.

Gorou was spending the day sitting on the couch and reading a book when your pet dog walks up to him. He barks at him to get his attention.

"Ah, [D/N], I haven't seen you in a while. Would you like to come join me?" He asks, patting the open seat beside him.

[D/N] instead woofs at him.

"Hm? What's that?"

[D/N] woofs a little louder.

"You're hungry? Have you had anything to eat today?"

[D/N] whines softly.

"Well that won't do! I'll go ahead and fill up your food bowl and then I'm going to have a talk with [Y/N] about taking proper care of you."

Gorou gently sets the book down to the side and starts to get up when a loud voice halts his movements.

"Do NOT listen to ANYTHING that LIAR is telling you! I'll let you know that I fed them nearly an hour ago!"

You walked through the doorway and approached [D/N] with a leash in hand.

"Also... Guess who's got an appointment with the vet today~?" You ask with a sickingly sweet smile on your face.

[D/N] barks as loud as he can right to your face and growls lowly afterwards. You look to Gorou and can't help but let out a small chuckle at the mixture of shock and horror on his face.

"What's the matter?" You ask with a smirk. "Did they cuss me out or something?"

"...I never knew such profanity existed..." Gorou shuddered.

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Your best friend gives Diona a bad good idea on how to destroy the alcohol industry.

Content Warning: Diona Lore Spoilers

Notes: [F/N] = Friend Name

You, Diona, and your best friend, [F/N], were currently all sitting at your kitchen table taste testing Diona's latest non-alcoholic concoction. More specifically, only [F/N] was doing the drinking. Diona only wanted to make the drinks and there was no way in hell you were gonna drink anything she makes with the stuff that is put in them, even if you know how good it will taste.

Currently, [F/N] was happily gulping down Diona's latest creation, which only seemed to anger Diona.

"*glug* ... *glug* ... Ah~. This has got to be one of the best drinks I have ever had in my life!" [F/N] proclaims as they slam their empty cup on the table. "What did you say was in this drink, Diona?"

"Grrr... I put a few pieces of cat hair, a whole lemon, a pinecone, and a cockroach I found hiding under the kitchen counter in a blender and then poured all of that into a glass of water." Her hair started to bristle. "Why is it that no matter what disgusting things I put in a drink it's STILL bound to taste delicious?"

You cringed as she listed each ingredient to [F/N] and you expected them to do the same. However, they surprisingly looked deep in thought.

"Hold on... You're saying that ANYTHING you put in the drink is not going to change how good it tastes?"

"YES! Isn't that obvious to you?"

"So you could put something deadly like poison into the drink and it would be the best tasting death drink you could ever have?" [F/N] interrupted.

"But of course. Even something like poi-" Diona paused. Her ear twitched. Slowly but surely, you could see an evil smile come across her face.

"Did you have to mention that to her?" You sighed.

"Hey, no need to get mad at me. I'm simply supporting her cause." [F/N] smiled with a thumbs up and a wink.

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It seems that Fischl has another side to her that you were previously unaware of.

Content Warnings: Out of Character Fischl, Swearing

Notes: [F/N] = Friend Name

"I'm back! Sorry for being away so long." You called out as you entered your apartment. Surprisingly, there was no response given back. It was quiet.

...Too quiet.

When you first left, you knew that there were two people and a talking raven occupying your apartment. One of which was your best friend, [F/N], who you had told to watch over the others, Fischl and Oz, while you were away. You had also told them to not let them leave the apartment for now, as you could not explain to any strangers why a strange looking girl had a talking raven with her.

You explored your apartment for any signs of life and eventually, you found Fischl and Oz in your bedroom standing next to the closet door. However, you had visited every other room in your apartment and were unable to find [F/N].

"Hey Fischl, do you know where [F/N] is? I couldn't find them anywhere."

Fischl and Oz turned around to look at you.

"Hmph! That mere pitiful human wished to make an enemy out of the Prinzessin. However, my Auge der Verurteilung foresaw their attempt to divert the course of destiny. Thus, I commanded Oz to rid them and their sins from my sight and doom them to waste away in the eternal night."

You raised an eyebrow. "You what?"

Oz decided to speak up next. "I'm afraid Mein Fräulein was challenged by [F/N] to a card game. During the game, Fräulein claimed [F/N] was cheating and thus decided to lock them in your closet.”

Your head whipped toward Fischl. "YOU WHAT?!"

"THEY UNO'ED OUT ON AN ARCHON DAMN WILDCARD! THAT'S WHAT THAT FUCKER GETS!!"

You and Oz had your mouth and beak, respectively, agape by Fischl's outburst. After a couple of seconds, Fischl noticed your shocked expressions and recomposed herself.

"Ahem... Apologies. Mein behavior was very uncouth of a Prinzessin."

You heard banging from inside the closet.

"[Y/N]?! Get me out of here! That witch is crazy!!"

You quickly threw yourself between the closet door and Fischl and prayed for a resolution between the two.

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Diona discovers the history behind the 18th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.

Content Warning: American History

Notes: Reader is presumed to be from the United States. Diona is also presumed to be able to read English.

You and Diona were at your computer looking up American history. Diona was curious about the would and country you lived in so you decided to try your best to teach her all of the important historical events that you remember learning in school.

However, you made sure to hide all mentions of Genshin Impact on your computer before letting Diona come watch. You didn't want her to have an existential crisis.

The two of you were currently scrolling through the list of amendments in the U.S. constitution and Diona suddenly told you to stop.

"Wait stop! See that one? What does that say?" She asked, slowly inching forward to the screen.

"Ummmm... 'The Eighteenth Amendment is also known as the Prohibition Law. This prohibited the manufacture, sale, or transportation of 'intoxicating liquors.' This essentially meant a ban on alcohol bu-'"

Diona pushed you away from the computer and looked at the screen with sparkles in her eyes.

"WHAT?! NO WAY! THAT'S AWESOME! Looks like Mondstadt could learn a thing or two from your country. Hehehe." She snickered.

You carefully moved your way back in front of the computer. "Maybe. It's unfortunate that it didn't last very long."

Diona looked at you with a serious expression. "...What?"

"You didn't let me finish. 'This essentially meant a ban on alcohol BUT this would lead to the Prohibition Era of bootleg alcohol sales and consumption. The unpopular and ineffective amendment was then repealed by the 21st Amendment.' Essentially, it only lasted 14 years."

Diona was stuttering in shock. "H-huh? W-what? 14 YEARS?? Could everyone not see that they were living in PARADISE?!! UGH!" She crossed her arms. "Those drunkards would do anything to get their hands on alcohol. Who's the idiot that repealed that wonderful amendment in the first place??"

You quickly opened a new tab and searched for the answer. "Umm... Franklin D. Roosevelt was President at the time. But it's really Congress who handles the proposals and ratifying amendments."

Diona threw her hands up. "I don't CARE who handles it. That man should not have let such a thing get past him." Diona pauses for a bit, almost like she was thinking about something. "Unless..." She gasps. "Was he a drunkard himself?!"

You opened another tab. "Ummmm... Kind of?"

"GRRR…! OF COURSE HE WAS! Otherwise he wouldn't let such a thing happen! Looks like this country needs someone responsible to man the helm! Move aside!"

You decided to play along with her for now. You weren't worried about her finding anything inappropriate as long as you were watching over her shoulder.

At first, she searched up innocent things such as "How to run for President", "Can someone of Kätzlein bloodline run for President", and "How to become a U.S. citizen".

It was only when she decided to search for "How to mind control an entire country" that you decided to get her off the computer.

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Author Side Notes: These are just some short stories I thought of in my head. Please don’t take them too seriously.

#genshin impact #genshin reverse isekai #reverse isekai #reverse isekai genshin #genshin gorou #genshin diona #genshin fischl #platonic #platonic genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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