#q watches kingdom

[gingersp1ce547]

And if i said this ending was so kingdom hearts 1 (with maybe a pinch of the ending of 3) would you believe me

[godesscall]

Gonna be filtering anything related to totk since it will be awhile until I get my hands on that game

[bueckets]

The Hit List | Part 1

Pairing: fuckgirl!Paige x Mechi Student!reader

Genre: romance (eventually), slow burn, enemies to lovers, kinda funny?, smut (eventually), cat n mouse

Description: When an overworked engineering student's late-night CAD project gets interrupted by a very drunk, very lost basketball star stumbling into the wrong dorm room, she learns that some defensive plays work better in love than on the court.

What starts as a case of mistaken identity turns into an unexpected game of cat and mouse when UConn's golden girl, Paige Bueckers, can't seem to take a hint– or maybe just doesn't want to. Armed with nothing but sarcasm, an overprotective stuffed bear named Mr. Gummy, and a borrowed team jacket that definitely isn't helping the situation, our engineering hero finds herself drawing up plays to defend her heart against college basketball's most persistent point guard.

They say offense wins games, but defense wins championships. When you're trying not to fall for a girl who treats the court like her kingdom and your personal space like a suggestion, maybe it's time to admit some battles aren't meant to be won.

WC: 11.2k

Authors Notes: i had first written this for jkxreader on my other blog (whoretan) however plot deviates heavily after the first encounter, um, kinda fuck girly paige, but kind of just a love drunk idiot too

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Guest

Your eyes burned as you stared at the CAD model rotating on your screen, the internal combustion engine you'd been working on for the past—what was it now, eight hours?—still refusing to cooperate.

The familiar workspace of SOLIDWORKS had become both your best friend and worst enemy over the past three years at UConn, but tonight it felt particularly vindictive. You'd been trying to get the timing belt assembly to properly mate with the crankshaft for what felt like an eternity, and your deadline was creeping closer by the minute.

"Did you hear?" Riven's voice cut through your concentration as she burst through the door, her designer backpack hitting her bed with enough force to make your desk lamp wobble.

"Hear what?" You didn't bother turning around, instead zooming in on the problematic area of your model. The project was due in six hours, and you were nowhere near having it stress-tested. Sleep was starting to feel like a distant memory from another life.

Riven paused in her tracks—you could practically hear her jaw dropping in that dramatic way she'd perfected since freshman year. "Paige Bueckers was talking about how Q’s jump shot is worse than a middle schooler's."

The absurdity of the statement finally forced you to tear your eyes away from the screen. Your neck cracked in protest as you turned to face your roommate, who stood there with her perfectly manicured hands on her hips, waiting for your reaction. Three years of living together had taught you that Riven wouldn't let you focus until you properly acknowledged whatever piece of gossip she'd brought home.

“That’s literally ridiculous.”

Riven tilted her head, eyes rolling toward the ceiling in that characteristic way of hers. Six seconds of contemplation later (you’d learned to count), she shrugged and pulled out her iPhone, probably to text the women's basketball group chat about the latest drama.

Your roommate, much like all the other Huskies superfans, didn't care whose reputation a particular player tarnished. She'd much rather get on their good side, damaged reputations or not. It was a dance you'd watched play out countless times since freshman year, when you'd first been assigned as roommates.

Back then, you'd thought the random housing assignment would be a disaster—the sports-obsessed sorority girl and the robotics team president seemed like a recipe for mutual hatred. But somehow, your differences had created a strange balance. She dragged you out of your engineering cave occasionally, and you reminded her that there was more to college than chasing after basketball stars.

"Caitlin bought Kate those new custom Nikes." Riven thrust her phone in your face, revealing a photo of Clark's teammate happily posing with pristine white sneakers. The caption read, 'Thanks for the gift bb, @CaitlinClark22'.

You squinted at the screen, trying not to think about how those shoes probably cost more than your entire semester's textbooks. The basketball elite weren't just known for their court skills—their NIL deals were equally legendary. Every starter came from successful programs, the kind that built training facilities and had courts named after their alumni.

"What a lucky bitch," Riven sighed, flopping onto her bed.

Apparently, your roommate wasn't the only one who didn't care for her reputation. Last week, she'd blown up your phone with about thirty—maybe sixty—texts about how her sorority sister had seen Caitlin making out with someone else at The Tavern. Looks like those custom Nikes must've been an apology.

You looked up at your starstruck roommate with pursed lips. Riven caught your expression and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, she's being messy. So what? Those shoes are like two thousand dollars with the custom work, that's my fucking meal plan right there."

"Remind me again how you're a neurology student?"

Riven clutched her chest with an open hand, gasping dramatically. "Wow. I see how it is." She threw herself backward onto her bed with the theatrical flair of a soap opera star.

You couldn't help but grin, even as your eyes darted back to your computer screen. The smile quickly died on your lips.

Oh fuck.

The CAD model still sat there, mocking you with its incomplete state. You'd managed to complete maybe forty percent of the assembly, and the entire thing needed to be fully rigged and stress-analyzed by nine AM.

This was the cost of your procrastination, another dinner sacrificed to the gods of engineering deadlines. At least you had a good excuse this time: you'd spent the weekend helping the robotics team prepare for their upcoming competition. Being vice president meant putting in the extra hours, even if it meant cramming your actual coursework into impossible timeframes.

"I have to finish this tonight. Do not bother me with any more basketball drama." You spun your chair back to face your screen, not bothering to check if Riven was sticking her tongue out at you. You could picture it anyway, she had the maturity of a twelve-year-old sometimes.

Five and a half hours later, you finally pressed the glorious 'Submit' button on Blackboard. You turned off your PC with such violence that the desktop nearly toppled over.

"Never doing that again," you groaned, slumping into your chair and letting your head fall back against the cushion. Your neck felt like it had been replaced with concrete somewhere around hour six.

"You literally say that every time," Riven quipped from her side of the room.

If you had any energy left, you would've gotten up and punched her in the ass. Luckily for her, your eyes had started doing that thing where they drooped shut every few seconds without your permission. You'd decided about thirty minutes ago that your chair was an acceptable substitute for a bed. The walk to your actual mattress seemed about as feasible as climbing Mount Everest right now.

"How do I look? Good enough for the party?"

Fucking hell. 

You summoned what little remained of your core strength and groaned as you forced your chair to swivel around. The sight that greeted you was, admittedly, impressive, even through your exhaustion-blurred vision.

Riven wore a black dress that hit just above her knees, with strategic cutouts along her ribs. The laced-up black heels she'd spent twenty minutes struggling with (while whining very fucking loudly) completed the look perfectly. She'd devoted the last hour of your project completion marathon to preparing for KK’s birthday celebration.

“Which party?” you croaked. “The one where everyone’s fighting or the one where they’re pretending nothing happened?”

Her nose wrinkled in that way it did when she was trying not to laugh. "You're so annoying."

Yeeeaaah, definitely the messy one.

You watched as Riven stumbled toward her drawer, rummaging through three compartments before pulling out a neon orange tiny bag. And when you say tiny, you mean tiny, it couldn't have been more than two inches across.

"Can you even fit anything in there?"

A wicked smile spread across her face as she opened the toy purse, pulling out her student ID and a tube of lipstick. Of-fucking-course. “Minimalist chic, baby. Besides, I don’t need much. Just the essentials. I'm serious. Tonight's gonna be fucking legendary."

“Legendary,” you deadpanned, swiveling your chair back to your desk. “Try not to end up on Barstool again.”

You swore she lunged forward, ready to attack you with her miniature weapon. But her phone rang, which happened to be a far more pressing matter. The assault could wait. Riven pressed the phone to her ear with a smile that would have made the Cheshire Cat proud.

"Are you here? Yeah, I'm ready. You have the Pink Whitney? Okay. Bye."

She turned back to you with that same manic grin. "I'll get you back for that later. Bye!"

And just like that, Riven leaped out of the room, her neon orange bag and its singular tube of lipstick disappearing with her into whatever chaos awaited at the UConn house.

The sudden silence in her wake felt almost oppressive. You sat there for a moment, contemplating your life choices. The clean lines and precise measurements of your engineering models never gave you this much drama. Maybe that's why you preferred spending your nights with SOLIDWORKS instead of at parties—machines were predictable, logical, and they never started drama about anyone's jump shot.

After nearly crawling your way across the room for what felt like thirty minutes (but was probably closer to five), you finally made it to your bed. Or rather, to the base of your bed. The problem now was getting on top of it. UConn, in its infinite wisdom, had given everyone the tallest fucking beds in existence.

Tall enough that all of your belongings fit underneath it so they could make the rooms ten times smaller by doing so. You sat on your ass, glaring at what felt like a sixteen-foot space between you and the mattress. You could, theoretically, just fucking get up and with one last surge of energy jump onto it. But the soft cotton of your fuzzy rug was suddenly hugging your back, tucking you in, cradling you like a loving parent.

Fuck it, the floor isn't even that bad. You've slept on much worse—like that one time freshman year when you passed out in the robotics lab after a forty-eight-hour building session. At least your rug didn't smell like motor oil and desperation.

Your head lay flat on the floor, the hardwood never felt softer. Riven had left hours ago, and you'd managed to successfully knock out on your chair for a bit. That was until you jolted awake, sweating out of every crevice of your body, and made eye contact with your actual bed. You'd said goodbye to the chair and began the voyage to your proper sleeping place. Clearly, that wasn't going as planned.

It was too late now to dwell on what could've been. Tomorrow, you'd start anew. Just like every time she partied, Riven wouldn't be back for two or three days. You'd have a full day to sleep on your actual bed without the mention of UConn and internal combustion engines.

You turned to your side, the fuzz tickling your chin as you nuzzled into it. Sleep was just starting to creep in when—

"Taylor! Tay baby, please open the door!"

The hairs on your arms rose and a fart you hadn't realized you'd been holding in released into the air. Some drunk player had the wrong door.

“Wrong room,” you called, hoping they’d get the hint. With a shaky breath, you nuzzled deeper into the carpet.

Not a second later, a bang erupted through your room. "Tay, please. I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

Your heart thrashed in your chest. Could you not have one night of peace? One night of tranquility to enjoy your own company? One night to enjoy sleeping on the hard floor?

"Taylor, for fuckssake." The asshole nearly knocked the fucking door off the hinges.

First, you're going to knock her the hell out. Then, you'll find out where Taylor lives and knock her out, too. Maybe you could work it into your next robotics project—a robot specifically designed to punch drunk athletes who can't read room numbers.

"Tay, please—"

You jolted upward and ran to the door so fast you probably broke several laws of physics. Swinging the wooden panel open like a madwoman, you yelled, "Listen asshole, I don't know who Taylor is and I don't give a damn. It's late as hell and some of us actually enjoy sleeping!"

Said asshole leaned against the door frame of your room, a Nike-covered foot tapping against the floor as she pressed a finger to your lips. "Shhhhh, baby, I said I'm sorry."

Your throat locked and you nearly laughed at the audacity. Did this fucker really not notice you weren't Taylor? Through your sleep-deprived haze, you managed to register a few details about the intruder: tall, athletic build that made your mouth go dry, honey-blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders, and wearing what looked like exclusive UConn team gear. Great. A drunk basketball star. 

Said basketball star happened to also push herself off the door frame and trudge past you, right into your room as if she'd been there a million times.

Much like you wanted to before your carpet trapped you, the stranger leaped onto your bed, stomach flopping onto the cushion of your mattress. She muttered something you couldn't hear as she grabbed your favorite pillow and brought it close to her chest. She was snuggling your Mr. Gummy.

You were going to go to jail for assaulting a Division I athlete. Yeah. This was the end of your girl boss engineering career. Goodbye feminist STEM icon. Hello convict. All those years of suffering to get into UConn just for you to catch a case over the Greek Goddess, Nike, herself. At least you'd submitted your project first, might as well get credit for that before you went to prison.

"Babe, I don't remember your bed smelling this good." She'd gone into a fetal position, kicking off her—yep, definitely team-exclusive Nikes. Maybe, just maybe, you'd knock her out and then sell her shoes on StockX. The proceeds could cover your legal defense.

You rubbed your forehead with the back of your palm, wiping away the stress sweat that had accumulated. You swung your head out of your door, looking left and right, then repeat. Empty. Fuck. Fuck, and fuck.

You paced back and forth a few times, biting on the edge of your hand. You can't pick this goddess off your bed. One, she's drunk as hell. Two, she's... You gazed back at the stranger, somewhere on her journey to your bed she'd tossed her UConn warmup jacket to your floor. Leaving her in a fitted tank top that left nothing to the imagination.

Who needs that many shoulder muscles? The definition in the arm that hugged Mr. Gummy was sculpted by years of perfect jump shots. Each shift of her body revealed new curves, like a living Nike ad designed specifically to torment sleep-deprived engineering students.

Holy hell. Get a fucking grip.

Okay, so you can't drag the basketball star off your bed.

Plan B it is.

You trudged into your room, taking one last look at the hallway. Should you close the door?

If someone did hypothetically walk past would they think you drugged her? She was slurring her words and hugging your favorite bear while you paced back and forth like you happened to "accidentally" slip something into her Gatorade.

You closed the door.

You needed to call Riven. You could care less that she was at the beginning of her three-day rager, you weren't going to wait till the next morning when Nike would wake up and start accusing you of kidnapping UConn's star point guard.

You slowly walked toward your desk, making sure to avoid the panels on the floor that creaked every time someone stepped on them. Empty. You pushed your chair back to see if it happened to fall earlier. Empty.

The air stilled, and you shook your head. No. No. She was laying on it.

You'd chucked your phone onto your bed after deciding to finally start your project. You had to call Riven. There was no other choice but to tell someone. And given the fact that your contact list included your parents and Riven, she was looking like the most optimal candidate.

As silently as you could, you tip-toed toward your bed and did a quick examination. Near her head? Nope. Mr. Gummy? Nope. Legs? Nope. Hip?

Yeah.

Maybe you would go to jail after all, for assault.

You better get an A on that fucking project.

You took a step forward, awkwardly climbing the edge of your bed to get closer to your phone. Which was nicely tucked right under the curve of her ass, your camera barely peeking out as if it was taunting you.

Shit. How are you going to pull it out?

Your face contorted as you inched closer to the basketball player, thumb and middle finger clutching the edges of your phone and lightly tugging backward. She huffed out a soft groan. Dear god.

It's not budging.

In and out. Breathe.

You tugged again.

Something thudded against the floor.

Your eyes left the phone and gazed to the floor where your Mr. Gummy lay sacrificed to the floor demons. Uh oh.

You turned back to retrieve your bear when your eyes locked with hers. Her very open eyes.

She was smiling.

"Baby I didn't know you were so handsy."

You stared. That's all you could manage to do—stare at the face of the beautiful drunk idiot in front of you. And holy shit was she beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made you question if UConn's recruitment standards included a mandatory photogenic quota for certain players.

The idiot had a playful smile playing across her stupidly perfect face. Taylor must be a lucky girl. Not lucky enough, though, considering her girlfriend was currently in a stranger's bed. How drunk did someone have to be to not recognize they had the wrong person?

"C'mere," she grabbed your arm, pulling you to your side as if you weighed nothing. A strong arm locked around your waist and began rubbing circles on your stomach. The motion sent shivers down your spine that you desperately tried to ignore.

"Missed you, n' I'm sorry baby," she slurred into your ear. Her voice was much softer now, a warm whisper that made your whole body tingle.

Taylor, I'm so sorry.

The words shot straight between your legs. You hadn't been touched in almost two years. Sue me. A gorgeous basketball star was rubbing your lower stomach while she told you—her girlfriend—she missed her. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke. You spend three years avoiding athlete drama, and now the universe deposits one directly into your bed?

You needed your phone. Pronto.

"Listen— I—" You raised a clammy hand to lift her, attempting to wrap your fingers around her wrist to lift it. Your engineering brain was trying to calculate the exact force required to remove her arm without waking her up further, but all mathematical ability seemed to have short-circuited.

"You're so squirmy tonight," she intertwined your fingers.

What the fuck are you supposed to do? You inched your body further away in an attempt to shrug her off. A move that, in retrospect, was about as well-thought-out as trying to integrate calculus while drunk.

Nike thought otherwise. She pulled you closer until her front was pressed firmly against your back, her breath warm against your neck. You could feel the defined muscles of her stomach through her tank top, her body radiating heat that made your head spin.

FUCK.

You'll wake up with a gay panic and a warrant.

"I'm really tired," you squirmed against the death grip around your waist. For someone supposedly blackout drunk, she had the grip strength of someone who'd spent their life fighting through double teams.

Just pretend it's not there. You do not feel anything. Just toned arms and her—

"G'to bed baby. I'll make it up— make it up to you n' the morning." Nike lifted herself to place one last sleepy kiss against your cheek.

Two minutes later, Nike’s light snores vibrated against the back of your neck, warm breath caressing your skin. You wouldn't be able to move her off you. You had no clue where your phone was. Her hip could very well have fully consumed it at this point, creating some kind of phone-eating black hole that physics hadn't yet discovered.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes, pretended there wasn't a Division I basketball star sleeping in your bed, and prayed that you wouldn't end up in some viral TikTok before noon. At least if you did become internet famous, you'd already submitted that goddamn CAD project.

Your last thought before drifting off was that Mr. Gummy better not tell anyone about this.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL!"

Are you being robbed? Is someone being murdered? You jolted upwards to see Riven staring at you with an open mouth, her perfectly applied makeup from last night now resembling a raccoon's Halloween costume.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of sleep. What's her problem?

She pointed to your bed and you turned your body to the side. Oh.

Oh.

Nike was rapidly blinking, those unfairly long eyelashes fluttering as she was most likely realizing you were not Taylor. The morning light streaming through your window illuminated her features in a way that should be illegal before coffee.

You laughed nervously, hands flailing in front of you like a malfunctioning windmill. "It's not what it looks like."

"Why is Paige Bueckers in your bed?"

Paige Bueckers? The same UConn Basketball Star Paige Bueckers? No fucking way.

This Paige had cuddled Mr. Gummy half of the night before opting to trap you in the bed with her. There was no chance that this was the same Paige Bueckers that had NIL deals with Nike and Gatorade and had laid waste to half the NCAA. 

Paige—definitely Paige—groaned beside you, hands rubbing her face. "Taylor's going to kill me," she mumbled underneath her breath.

"No, we— we didn't. We." You pointed between yourself and Paige, your brain short-circuiting like a poorly wired circuit board.

"Listen, sweetie, I'm sure it was the time of your life, but this was a one-time thing." Her voice had that practiced smoothness of someone who'd given this speech before, probably more times than the number of equations in your thermodynamics textbook.

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. Was she serious? Did she think you two—? And she was okay with it? Now, this fits the description perfectly of the cocky superstar Paige Bueckers was known to be. 

Your face burned hotter than an overclocked processor. "We did not have sex. You came in here drunk off your ass screaming about your girlfriend."

By the time the word girlfriend left your mouth, Paige Bueckers had already jumped off your bed with the agility of someone who definitely wasn't as hungover as she should be. She snatched up her UConn warmup jacket from your floor and was halfway down the hallway before you could blink.

What an arrogant little asshole. Your muscles quivered with the urge to strangle her. That is if you ever saw her again. Which, given your luck and UConn’s campus, was probably inevitable.

"How long have you and Paige been seeing each other?" The empty spot beside you filled with Riven's weight. "Is that why you never wanted to come to the games with me?"

"Riven, you have five seconds to get off of my bed before I strangle you."

"You can't avoid this conversation forever!" she called out as you stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door with perhaps more force than necessary.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you tried to process the reality that you'd just spent the night cuddled up with Paige fucking Bueckers. The same player whose name had been carved into the unofficial NCAA hierarchy since before orientation. 

You splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the memory of how her arms had felt around you, how her breath had tickled your neck, how her—

No. Absolutely not. You were not going to join the ranks of college students who'd lost their minds over a basketball star. You had bigger things to worry about. Like whether your CAD project had uploaded properly. Or if you could ever look at Mr. Gummy the same way again.

The next few days passed in a blur of classes, labs, and actively avoiding any location where you might run into Paige. You'd even skipped Tuesday's Engineering Club meeting, sending your vice president a detailed email about needing to catch up on work. It wasn't entirely a lie—you did have work to catch up on, considering you'd spent half your study time calculating alternate routes to class that avoided the usual athlete hangouts.

But by Thursday afternoon, your luck ran out. The library was supposed to be safe—the one place on campus where the basketball players rarely ventured. They had their own private study rooms in the athletic center, after all. Which is why you'd let your guard down, settling into your favorite spot near the engineering section to catch up on your reading.

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered by two girls settling at the table across from you, their whispered conversation carrying clearly in the quiet space.

"So yeah, I like totally made out with Paige in the team room. We almost knocked over Coach's whiteboard, isn't that hilarious?" The prettier of the two said as she placed her MacBook on the wooden table, her voice carrying that forced casualness of someone trying very hard to seem unbothered.

Her friend laughed and took a sip of her Starbucks, a lemonade, probably sugar-free, because of course it was. "So how was it?"

Paige's latest conquest giggled and opened her laptop, trying to seem as uninterested in the conversation as possible. You'd seen this play before, the carefully crafted nonchalance that masked the inevitable disappointment when Paige moved on to her next target. You'd bet your entire scholarship that she'd gone home crying after being ghosted, only to watch Paige pretend she didn't exist the next day.

By this point, you'd given up all pretense of studying chemical processes and electron movement. You'd reread the same paragraph in your textbook sixteen times, your brain more interested in this glimpse into the life of your unexpected bedmate. So what if you're being nosy? Everyone is nosy, and besides, you'd mentally checked out the moment these two sat down.

"She's such a good kisser.” Her friend's mouth dropped open as she placed her half-empty cup onto the table, grabbing her friend's shoulder with one hand. The former nodded, still giggling, "Sarah, I know. She like totally picked me up against the whiteboard."

Are they not aware that people can hear them? That they're in a public space? You glanced around the library, which was half-empty as usual. So maybe you were the only one eavesdropping. Still, you wouldn't go around a library of all places announcing your hookups to the world.

"Hey buttercup," an eerily familiar voice purred in your ear.

You jolted, arms flailing like a malfunctioning robot, inevitably colliding with your pencil case and sending its contents scattering across the floor. Various writing implements rolled under nearby tables like they were making a break for freedom.

You turned to lock eyes with a very, very familiar pair of hazel eyes. Shit.

"Do I know you?" You asked through gritted teeth, trying to ignore how good she looked in her fitted Nike training gear. The amount of exclusive team merchandise on her body probably equaled your entire semester's expenses.

Why would Paige, of all people, be looking for you? If you remembered correctly, she was the one to so diligently inform you that whatever happened was a one-time thing—even though nothing had actually happened.

Paige's eyes crinkled at the corners as her lips tugged upward into that infamous smirk. She leaned forward, resting one hand on the edge of the table, the other on the back of your chair, effectively caging you in. "Don't play dumb."

She was in your bubble. Way too close for comfort, especially since you'd been planning on never having to interact with her again. You groaned and leaned backward, roughly pushing your chair back to give yourself space to lean over and pick up your scattered pens. The move was partly practical and partly designed to annoy her.

"Listen, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here either." Paige grabbed the chair to your left and pushed it closer to you, dropping into it with that natural athlete's grace. "I've been to your room every day since Sunday and you haven't been there once."

Welp. Why the hell would she be looking for you?

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was supposed to be waiting in my room for you." You shoved the pens back into your pencil case, gripping the zipper and tugging it closed with perhaps more force than necessary. Looks like the library was no longer a safe haven.

"I lost my phone and you're the only person I remember being with that night," Paige groaned, turning her head.

Does she truly remember that night? Remember that you two didn't actually hook up but instead cuddled? You wanted to convulse at the memory of how safe and warm you'd felt in her arms. How right it had—no. Absolutely not.

"Oh fuck," she mumbled, her expression shifting from annoyed to something closer to panic.

Your eyes followed her gaze to see what had caused this reaction.

Ha. Ha. Ha. In your face, superstar. You couldn't help but grin as you realized the two girls were still very much present. Not only present but staring at you and Paige with expressions that suggested their jaws might actually detach and hit the table.

Paige leaned back in her chair, sending them a small wave and a—was that a wink? Your eyes nearly rolled directly out of their sockets. How much more predictable could she get?

You didn't bother to look back at the two girls to see their reaction. You could guess it anyway—probably swooning in their chairs, maybe even planning their own strategic "accidental" encounters with her. You wouldn't be surprised if they were already planning to show up at her next practice session.

"Anyways," Paige turned back to you, her voice dropping to that low register that definitely didn't do things to your insides, "Have you seen it?"

You shook your head, closing your textbook. Time to get the hell out of here. "No, I haven't. Sorry."

"Are you mad about what I said? Is that why you're holding my precious phone hostage?" Paige's hand shot out to land on top of your textbook, preventing you from shoving it in your bag—or directly at her stupid, perfect face.

"Mad about what exactly?" You grabbed her hand and tried to shove it off the textbook. She didn't budge. Of course she didn't, you'd seen her arms during all those ESPN highlights Riven forced you to watch. "I do not have your phone."

Within seconds, Paige's hand slid off the textbook only to trap your hand against it instead. She moved to the edge of her chair and leaned forward until her lips were at the shell of your ear. Her warm breath hit your skin and you had to resist the urge to squirm. "About what I said in front of your roommate, sweetie."

Your blood ran cold. Does she think you give two shits about what she said in front of Riven? That she made your roommate think you two were secretly hooking up and that she would undoubtedly eventually let it slip to her sorority sisters? Who will tell the rest of campus? No. Not. At. All.

Asshole. She's a no-good little asshole with too many NIL deals and too little accountability.

You turned your head to face her, ignoring the fact that you were now inches apart. If you weren't so pissed you might've paused to appreciate how her eyes looked up close, how they seemed to hold more mischief than all the troublemakers in Cambridge combined. But now wasn't the time for character studies.

You held her gaze, noting the slight knit in her brow that suggested she wasn't as confident as she was pretending to be. "Listen here Bueckers, whether or not you want to keep pretending like we hooked up or not is none of my business. I do not have your fucking phone, and if I did I would've thrown that shit into the Charles River by now."

You yanked your hand away from her grasp and turned back to your desk. You managed to successfully toss your textbook into your bag and rise from your chair without another word from her.

Before making your very dramatic exit, you turned to face her one last time. Might as well make it grand.

Paige hadn't moved an inch since you'd stood up. She stared at you with a raised brow and that infuriating smirk tugging at her lips. She found this amusing? Found humiliating you in the library a good pastime?

You bent over your chair, placing one hand on her shoulder and leaning in until you were at the shell of her ear. She stiffened under your touch, and you felt a small thrill of satisfaction. What the fuck are you doing?

You leaned in further, so close that your chest pressed flat against your arm and her body. So close that your lips actually grazed her ear as you whispered, with all the venom you could muster, “This might work on your little groupies, but, I’m not interested.” 

The last thing you saw as you straightened up and walked away was the shocked expression on her face, like she couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Good. Let her be confused for once.

You managed to make it all the way to the library exit before your hands started shaking. What the hell had gotten into you? You'd just essentially declared war on one of the most prominent athletes at UConn. The star player who could probably get you banned from every sports event without blinking.

But as you pushed through the heavy doors into the crisp fall air, you couldn't bring yourself to regret it. Maybe it was time someone stood up to the mighty Paige Bueckers. Someone who didn't want anything from her except for her to leave them alone.

Your muscles were still tense from your library encounter as you trudged up the stairs to your dorm room. The familiar hallway felt longer than usual, probably because every step reminded you of how spectacularly you'd just antagonized UConn's star player. At least you'd managed to get through your thermodynamics lab without dwelling too much on the way Paige's face had dropped when you'd—

No. Stop fucking thinking about it.

You fumbled with your key card, missing the reader twice before finally getting the door open. The first thing you noticed was an envelope on the floor, likely slipped under your door while you were in class. You bent down to pick it up, ready to toss it in the recycling with all the other campus spam, when Riven's voice cut through the room.

"What's that?"

You jumped, nearly dropping the envelope. Your roommate was sprawled across her bed, still in her scrubs from her hospital rotation. She must have gotten back early.

"Nothing," you muttered, but it was too late. Riven had already launched herself off her bed with surprising agility for someone who'd just finished a twelve-hour shift.

"Oh my god," she squealed, snatching the envelope from your hands before you could protest. "These are courtside tickets to Saturday's game!"

Your stomach dropped. Sure enough, two tickets peeked out of the torn envelope in Riven's hands. But what caught your eye was the note attached.

Found my phone in the team room. Who would’ve thought, right? Peace? - PB

"We're going," Riven declared, already pulling out her phone. "I'm texting the group chat right now. Do you know how impossible these tickets are to get?"

You reached for the tickets, but Riven danced away, holding them above her head like a prized trophy. "We are not going."

"Oh yes we are," she grinned, typing furiously with one hand while keeping the tickets out of your reach with the other. "Everyone's going to be so jealous. How did you even get these?"

"I didn't—" you started, then stopped. How exactly do you explain to your basketball-obsessed roommate that these tickets were some kind of weird peace offering from Paige Bueckers? A peace offering that felt more like a challenge, especially given that note.

"Earth to engineering nerd," Riven waved her hand in front of your face. "You're coming to this game. No excuses. I've already told everyone you're finally embracing the Husky spirit."

You groaned, falling face-first onto your bed. Mr. Gummy stared at you judgmentally from his spot against your pillow. Even he seemed to be saying you should have thrown those tickets away the moment you saw them.

"I have to study," you mumbled into your comforter.

"You always have to study," Riven countered. "But how often do you get courtside tickets from Paige Bueckers?"

Your head shot up. "How did you—"

"PB?" Riven held up the note, smirking. "Please. I may be pre-med, but I'm not stupid. Also, her signature is literally on every piece of UConn merch in the campus store."

Great. Just great. Now you had no choice but to go to the game. If you didn't, Riven would never let you hear the end of it. She'd probably drag you there anyway, study plans be damned.

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer some escape route from this situation. Instead, all you could think about was how you'd have to sit courtside—courtside—and watch Paige play. Watch her make those impossible passes, sink those perfect three-pointers, command the court like she was born to do it.

And she'd know you were there. That was the worst part. This wasn't just a peace offering—it was a power play. She was making sure you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Fine," you sighed, already regretting the word as it left your mouth. "But I'm bringing my thermodynamics textbook."

Riven's squeal of delight was probably heard all the way in the engineering building.

You grabbed Mr. Gummy and hugged him to your chest, wondering how exactly you'd gone from successfully telling Paige Bueckers to fuck off to having courtside seats to watch her play. The bear offered no answers, but you could have sworn he looked a little smug about the whole situation.

The next two days were a special kind of torture. Riven had taken it upon herself to become your personal "game day preparation coordinator," which apparently meant forcing you to sit through endless highlight reels of UConn's recent victories. By Friday afternoon, you could probably recite Paige's stat line from memory—not that you'd ever admit that to anyone.

"You can't wear that," Riven declared as you pulled out your standard comfort outfit: UConn Engineering hoodie and black leggings.

You glanced down at your clothes, then back at your roommate. "Why not?"

"Because we're sitting courtside," she emphasized the word like you were a particularly slow child. "People are going to see us. The cameras might even pan to us during timeouts!"

The mere thought made your stomach churn. "That's exactly why I should wear this. I don't want to draw any attention."

Riven was already shaking her head, diving into her closet with the determination of someone on a mission. "No way. If Paige Bueckers gives you courtside tickets, you dress for the occasion."

"She didn't give them to me," you protested, even though technically she had. "They were just left under our door."

"Right," Riven emerged with an armful of clothes. "Just like she just happened to end up in your bed that night?"

You threw Mr. Gummy at her head. She dodged, laughing as the bear bounced harmlessly off your desk lamp. "We are not talking about that again."

An hour and approximately seventeen outfit changes later, you finally escaped. Your excuse about needing to pick up materials from the engineering lab wasn't entirely a lie—you did have a project due next week. The fact that the engineering building was on the opposite side of campus from the athletic facilities was just a bonus.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the person exiting the coffee shop until it was too late. Hot liquid splashed across your chest as you collided with what felt like a brick wall of muscle.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" A voice that definitely wasn't Paige's (thank god) exclaimed.

You looked up—and up—into the concerned face of one of UConn's basketball players. The Croatian accent and defensive intensity were legendary enough that even you, perpetually sports-oblivious, recognized her from Riven's endless team discussions.

"It's fine," you managed, trying to ignore how the hot coffee was currently seeping through your shirt. At least it wasn't your engineering hoodie—Riven would've killed you if you'd ruined her carefully planned outfit for tomorrow.

She was already pulling napkins from her pocket, dabbing at your shirt with a look of genuine distress. "Let me buy you a new coffee. And shirt," she added, eyeing the growing stain.

"Really, it's fine." You stepped back, ready to bolt. The last thing you needed was another interaction with a basketball player.

But she wasn't letting you off that easy. She grabbed your wrist with surprising gentleness for someone known for her aggressive defense. “Nah, I insist. I'm Nika, by the way. And I really do feel terrible about this."

Before you could protest further, she was steering you back into the coffee shop. The barista's eyes widened slightly at the sight of Nika—clearly a regular customer—but otherwise maintained their professional composure.

"The usual for me," Nika called out, "and whatever she wants." She turned to you expectantly.

You mumbled your name and order—"Just a black coffee"—trying to shrink into yourself. Several students were openly staring now, probably wondering why Nika Mühl was buying coffee for some random engineering student.

"And a chocolate croissant," Nika added, ignoring your attempt to protest. "Trust me, they're amazing here."

You shifted uncomfortably as she paid, very aware of the wet fabric clinging to your skin. Nika seemed to notice your discomfort because she shrugged off her UConn warmup jacket and held it out to you.

"Here, you can't stay in that wet shirt."

You stared at the jacket like it might bite you. The same style jacket Paige had left on your floor that night. The one that probably cost more than your textbooks.

"I can't—"

"You can and you will," Nika insisted, pushing the jacket into your hands. "There's a bathroom right there. Go change before you catch a cold."

Something in her tone brooked no argument. You found yourself in the bathroom before you could really process what was happening, staring at your reflection as you zipped up the warmup jacket. It was slightly too big, making you look like a kid playing dress-up in their older sibling's clothes.

When you emerged, Nika had already claimed a table in the corner, your drinks and the promised chocolate croissant waiting. She waved you over with a smile that somehow managed to be both friendly and slightly intimidating.

"So," she said as you slid into the seat across from her, "what's your major?"

"Engineering. Mechanical." You picked at the croissant, wondering how quickly you could eat it and escape.

Nika's eyes narrowed slightly, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. "Engineering— wait." Her eyes widened with recognition. "Holy shit, are you that girl?"

You froze mid-bite. "What girl?"

"The one from the library! The one who told Paige—what was it?  ‘That you’re not one of her groupies’?” Nika's grin spread across her face like wildfire. "No wonder she's been such a mess lately."

You choked on your croissant. "What?"

"Oh my god, this is perfect. You're also the one she—" Nika cut herself off, studying your increasingly red face with growing delight. "The one whose room she crashed in after KK’s party?"

Your face burned hotter than the coffee you'd been wearing moments ago. "How did you—"

"Paige tells me everything," Nika leaned back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Well, eventually. Had to drag this one out of her after she spent three days moping around practice like someone had stolen her favorite pair of Jordan’s.”

"I didn't steal anything," you protested automatically. "Not her phone, not her—"

"Oh, she knows that now," Nika waved dismissively. "Found it in the team room yesterday morning. Right where those girls said it would be." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Though I have to say, watching her spiral about it was pretty entertaining. She's not used to people calling her out like that."

The implication hung heavy in the air. You remembered the library girls' story about making out with Paige against the whiteboard. Something must have shown on your face because Nika's expression softened slightly.

"Look, Paige is complicated. She's not used to people seeing through her bullshit." She took a sip of her drink, considering her next words carefully. "Those tickets? That's her way of saying she fucked up."

"By accusing me of stealing her phone?"

"By letting you think she didn't remember that night."

Your heart stuttered in your chest. "What?"

Nika's phone buzzed before she could answer. She glanced at it and grimaced. "Speaking of her royal highness, I'm late for film." She stood, gathering her things with practiced efficiency. "Keep the jacket. Consider it compensation for the coffee attack."

You watched her head toward the door, your mind spinning with questions. Just before she left, she turned back with a knowing smirk.

"See you tomorrow at the game. Front row, right?"

The door chimed as she left, leaving you alone with a half-eaten croissant and more questions than answers. You looked down at the jacket, at the way the UConn logo seemed to mock you with its pristine embroidery.

Somehow, in trying to avoid Paige Bueckers, you'd managed to get tangled up in her world anyway. And tomorrow, you'd have to sit courtside and watch her in her element, all while wearing her best friend's jacket.

Mr. Gummy was definitely going to judge you for this.

"No." You glared at the suspicious red cup Riven was waving in front of your face. "Absolutely not."

"Come on! It's tradition!" She pushed the cup closer, its contents sloshing dangerously near the rim. The sharp smell of cheap vodka mixed with what you assumed was cranberry juice wafted toward you. "You can't go to your first real game sober."

You turned back to your mirror, adjusting Nika's warmup jacket for the hundredth time. The number 10 stared back at you, a constant reminder of yesterday's coffee shop encounter. You'd tried to talk yourself out of wearing it, but everything else felt too casual for courtside seats (according to Riven) or too formal (also according to Riven).

"I'm not pregaming a basketball game at three in the afternoon."

"It's four," Riven corrected, checking her phone. "And yes, you are. The team's already been at Gampel for hours, and we need to leave in thirty minutes if we want good spots for warm-ups. I refuse to let you sit there reading thermodynamics while history happens right in front of us."

You spun around, hands on your hips. "History?"

"Yes! We're playing Notre Dame. It's huge." She thrust the cup into your hands with such force that some of it splashed onto your fingers. "And you're wearing Nika Mühl's personal jacket. Do you know how many people would kill for that?"

"I got it because she spilled coffee on me," you muttered, but took a small sip anyway. Just to shut her up. The drink was surprisingly not terrible— mostly juice with just enough vodka to warm your chest.

"Right. Just like Paige 'accidentally' ended up in your bed." Riven made air quotes with her fingers, nearly spilling her own drink in the process. "And then 'accidentally' gave us courtside tickets."

"Can we not talk about that?" You took another sip, larger this time. The warmth spread through your limbs, making everything feel slightly softer around the edges. Maybe Riven had a point about the drinking thing.

"Oh, we're definitely talking about it." She flopped onto your bed, somehow not spilling a drop. "You're wearing her best friend's jacket to watch her play. This is like, next level psychological warfare."

You choked on your drink. "It's not warfare! I just didn't have anything else to wear."

"Mhmm." Riven's knowing smirk made you want to throw Mr. Gummy at her again. "That's why you spent twenty minutes adjusting it in the mirror."

"I did not—"

"You did! You were all,” She stood up, mimicking your earlier movements with exaggerated precision. "'Oh, should I zip it up all the way? Maybe halfway? What if I push up the sleeves?'"

You drained your cup in one go, grimacing at the burn. "I hate you."

"You love me." She was already mixing another drink, this one slightly stronger than the last. "And you're going to thank me when Paige sees you in that jacket and loses her mind."

"She's not going to lose her mind," you protested, but accepted the fresh drink anyway. "She probably won't even notice."

Riven's laugh echoed off the walls. "Oh honey. Paige notices everything. Why do you think she's the best point guard in the country?"

The walk to Gampel Pavilion was a blur of Riven's excited chatter and your growing anxiety. The drinks had taken the edge off, but your heart still raced as you approached the arena. Students were already lining up outside, many wearing jerseys and carrying signs. Your hand instinctively went to the zipper of Nika's jacket, suddenly very aware of what you were wearing.

"Stop fidgeting," Riven hissed, pulling you toward a separate entrance. "You look hot. Own it."

The security guard barely glanced at your tickets before waving you through. The arena was already humming with energy— staff rushing around with equipment, the band setting up in their section, early arrivals claiming their seats. 

Your courtside seats were exactly where you'd dreaded they'd be: directly behind the UConn bench. Close enough to hear every word, see every expression, feel every moment of tension.

"This is insane," you muttered, sinking into your seat. The court stretched out before you like a stage, the overhead lights making everything feel surreal.

"Look." Riven nudged you, pointing toward the tunnel. "They're coming out for warm-ups."

Your heart jumped into your throat as the team emerged, led by the coaching staff. Players filed onto the court in perfect formation, their practice jerseys a sea of navy and white. You spotted Nika first— impossible to miss with her distinctive playing style, already intense even in warm-ups.

And then there she was.

Paige moved with that effortless grace that made everything look easy, her ponytail swinging as she dribbled two balls simultaneously. She hadn't looked toward the crowd yet, locked in that pre-game focus that elite athletes got.

"Here we go," Riven whispered, her phone already out and recording.

You watched as Paige went through her warm-up routine, each movement precise and practiced. She worked her way around the three-point line, barely seeming to notice as shot after shot swished through the net.

Then she turned to grab a rebound, and her eyes swept across the courtside seats.

You saw the exact moment she registered you. Her hands froze mid-dribble, the ball bouncing away forgotten. Her gaze locked onto the number 10 across your chest, then slowly traveled up to meet your eyes.

The intensity in her stare made your whole body flush hot. You watched as her jaw clenched, that familiar muscle ticking in a way that sent heat straight to your core. Her eyes darkened with something that looked dangerously close to possession.

Nika appeared beside her, saying something that made Paige snap back to attention. But not before you caught the way her gaze lingered on how her best friend's jacket fit your frame.

"Holy shit," Riven breathed, still recording. "I think you broke her."

You slumped lower in your seat, already regretting letting the vodka convince you this was a good idea. "Shut up."

"No way. This is better than any reality show." She zoomed in as Paige missed her next three shots in a row. "Look what you did to her."

"I didn't do anything," you protested weakly, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from Paige's form. The way her practice jersey clung to her shoulders, how her muscles flexed with each movement, the intense focus that had returned to her features – though you swore you caught her glancing in your direction between plays.

This was going to be a very long game.

The game started exactly as you'd expected— with Paige absolutely demolishing Notre Dame's defense while you tried very hard to look anywhere else. It wasn't working.

"Did you see that pass?" Riven screamed in your ear for approximately the eighteenth time. "She didn't even look!"

No, you hadn't seen the pass, because you were very deliberately studying the fascinating architecture of Gampel's ceiling. The vodka buzz had worn off about twenty minutes ago, leaving you hyperaware of every move, every sound, every time Paige jogged past your seats during transitions.

The worst part? Nika kept sending you these knowing looks from the bench, like she was watching her favorite rom-com play out in real time. You were starting to regret not bringing your thermodynamics textbook after all. At least differential equations made sense. They didn't smirk at you or have perfectly defined arm muscles or—

"Time out, Huskies!"

The players jogged toward the bench, and suddenly your personal space was invaded by very tall, very sweaty athletes. You tried to shrink further into your seat, but there was nowhere to go. Especially not when Paige dropped into a crouch right in front of you, ostensibly to grab her water bottle.

"Nice jacket," she said quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the timeout huddle. Her eyes traveled down your body in a way that made you feel like you were wearing significantly less than a full warmup jacket and jeans.

You opened your mouth to respond with something witty, something that would put her in her place like you had in the library. Instead, what came out was: "Your friend has good taste."

Paige's eyes darkened, that same possessive look from warm-ups returning with intensity. "Does she?"

Before you could dig yourself into an even deeper hole, Coach Auriemma's voice cut through the tension. "Bueckers! Get your ass over here!"

You watched as she jogged back to the huddle, trying to ignore how your skin felt electric where her gaze had lingered. Beside you, Riven was practically vibrating with excitement.

"I got all of that on video," she whispered, waving her phone in your face. "This is going in the group chat."

"If you send that anywhere, I will reprogram your phone to only play the Barney theme song."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

The timeout ended, and the players returned to the court. You noticed Paige was playing with even more intensity now, if that was possible. Her crossovers were sharper, her passes more precise, like she had something to prove.

"Twenty bucks says she's showing off for you," Riven muttered.

"Thirty says you're delusional."

But as you watched Paige sink another impossible three-pointer and turn slightly— just slightly - in your direction before jogging back on defense, you had to admit that maybe, just maybe, Riven had a point.

The game continued in a blur of strategic timeouts (during which Paige found increasingly creative ways to end up near your seat), incredible plays (that you definitely weren't watching just to see the way her muscles moved), and Riven's running commentary (which was getting progressively less about basketball and more about the "tension that could be cut with a knife").

By the fourth quarter, UConn had built a comfortable lead, and you'd developed a concerning familiarity with exactly how Paige's practice jersey clung to her shoulders when she was sweating. This was not information you needed in your life. You had CAD models to build, robots to program, a future in engineering to secure. You did not have time to notice how her hair had started falling out of its ponytail in these impossibly attractive wisps, or how—

"Game! Huskies win!"

The final buzzer snapped you out of your completely professional analysis of athletic biomechanics. The crowd erupted as players from both teams exchanged handshakes and hugs. You stood, ready to make your escape before—

"Leaving so soon?"

You turned to find Paige standing right there, still slightly breathless from the game, her presence filling your entire field of vision. Up close, you could see the flush of exertion on her cheeks, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, the slight curl of her lips that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

"I have studying to do," you managed, proud that your voice came out steady.

"On a Saturday night?" She stepped closer, and you caught the faint scent of her perfume mixed with sweat. It should not have been as attractive as it was. "After watching me put up thirty points?"

"Thirty-two," you corrected automatically, then immediately wanted to die. Beside you, Riven made a sound that might have been a squeal or a laugh.

Paige's smirk grew wider. "So you were watching."

"It was kind of hard to miss, considering where we're sitting." You gestured to the courtside seats that had started this whole mess.

"About that," she ran a hand through her hair, and those loose strands fell perfectly around her face in a way that had to be practiced. "I was thinking maybe we could—"

"Paige!" Nika's voice cut through whatever she'd been about to say. "Media's waiting!"

You'd never been so grateful for press obligations in your life.

Paige's jaw clenched in frustration, but she recovered quickly. "This isn't over," she said, her voice low enough that only you could hear. Then she was gone, jogging toward the media section with that natural athletic grace that made everything look effortless.

You stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Your skin still tingled where she'd been standing close enough to touch.

"So," Riven's voice broke through your daze. "Still think she hasn't noticed you?"

"We're going out," Riven declared, already rummaging through your closet without permission. "No arguments."

You looked up from your laptop, where you'd been desperately trying to focus on anything other than replaying the game in your head for the past two hours. "I have to—"

"If you say 'study' I will literally scream." She emerged with your one decent going-out top, the black one with the low back that you'd bought on impulse and worn exactly once. "You just watched UConn destroy Notre Dame from courtside seats while Paige Bueckers eye-fucked you in front of the entire student section. We're celebrating."

"She wasn't—" You cut yourself off, heat creeping up your neck. "And anyway, shouldn't she be celebrating with her girlfriend?"

The words tasted bitter in your mouth. You'd been trying very hard not to think about Taylor, about how Paige had crashed into your room calling out her name, about how clearly serious it must be if she was that desperate to apologize. The fact that she'd spent the entire game looking at you like... that... well, it just proved what everyone said about her, didn't it?

"Oh my god," Riven threw the shirt at your head. "Put this on. We're getting drunk and you're going to tell me everything you're overthinking about right now."

An hour later, you found yourself at The Tavern, nursing your second Moscow Mule while Riven recounted the game to anyone who would listen. The bar was packed with students celebrating the win, most still wearing their UConn gear and riding the high of victory.

"I just don't get it," you said, mostly to your drink. "Why is she suddenly so interested? I'm literally nobody. I spend my Friday nights debugging Python scripts and building robots that occasionally catch fire."

"Maybe that's exactly why," Riven waggled her eyebrows. "You're different. You don't worship the ground she walks on."

You snorted. "Right. Because what Paige Bueckers really wants is someone who told her to fuck off in the library."

The doors to The Tavern burst open, and suddenly the energy in the room shifted. A new wave of celebration swept through as the team arrived, fresh from their post-game duties. Your stomach did a complicated flip as you spotted Paige among them, now changed into fitted black jeans and a white button-down that should be illegal. Her hair was down, falling in waves that your fingers definitely didn't itch to touch.

"Speak of the devil," Riven smirked. "Want to test that theory?"

"Don't you dare—" But Riven was already waving enthusiastically, catching Nika's attention. The Croatian player's face lit up with unholy glee when she spotted you.

"Engineering girl!" Nika bounded over, dragging a very amused-looking Paige with her. "Still wearing my jacket, I see."

You started to unzip it, but she waved you off. "Keep it. It looks better on you anyway." She shot Paige a meaningful look that made your cheeks burn.

"I need another drink," Riven announced suddenly, grabbing Nika's arm. "Come show me where the team keeps their secret stash."

"We don't have a—" Nika caught on quickly, grinning. "Oh, right. That secret stash. This way."

And just like that, you were alone with Paige at the crowded bar, your body humming with awareness of how close she was standing.

"Subtle, aren't they?" Paige smiled, and for once it wasn't that practiced smirk. It was something softer, more genuine. She signaled the bartender, who materialized instantly. Must be nice being a campus celebrity.

"The usual?" The bartender asked Paige, already reaching for a bottle.

"And whatever she's having," Paige nodded toward your nearly empty Moscow Mule.

"I can buy my own drinks," you said quickly, reaching for your wallet.

Paige's lips twitched. "I know you can. But consider it part of my ongoing apology for the whole bed situation."

You raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "You always apologize to your drunken mistakes with expensive drinks?"

The moment the words left your mouth, you wanted to snatch them back. But instead of looking offended, Paige just studied you with those impossibly intense eyes.

"Only the ones who let me cuddle their stuffed bears."

"Mr. Gummy," you corrected automatically, then immediately wanted to die. Again.

The bartender returned with your drinks, and you grabbed yours perhaps a bit too quickly, needing something to do with your hands. The Moscow Mule was perfect – strong enough to blame your burning cheeks on the alcohol.

"So," Paige said after a moment, looking far too comfortable for someone who'd just been called out on their drunken mistakes. "Engineering, huh?"

You nearly choked on your drink. "Are we really doing small talk right now?"

"Would you prefer I go back to staring at you from across the court?"

"I prefer knowing where I stand," you shot back, the alcohol making you braver than usual. "Because last I checked, you had a girlfriend you were pretty desperate to apologize to."

Something flashed across her face – regret? Embarrassment? "Taylor and I it's complicated."

"Isn't it always?" You couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of your voice. You'd heard enough stories about Paige's "complicated" situations to fill a textbook.

She turned to face you fully, and your breath caught at the unexpected vulnerability in her expression. "Look, I know what people say about me. Some of it's probably true. But Taylor and I have been over for months. That night... I was drunk and stupid because she'd started seeing someone new, and I handled it badly."

"By trying to crawl into her bed?"

"By accidentally crawling into yours." Her voice dropped lower, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. "Which, in retrospect, might have been the universe doing me a favor."

You forced yourself to meet her gaze, ignoring how your heart raced at the way she was looking at you. "Does that line usually work?"

"I don't know," she smiled, and it wasn't her usual cocky smirk. It was something smaller, almost shy. "I've never used it before."

Before you could process that, a commotion erupted near the pool tables. You both turned to see Riven attempting to teach one of the team's shooting guards proper form, which seemed to involve a lot of unnecessary physical contact.

"Ten bucks says they end up making out in the bathroom," Paige said, amusement coloring her tone.

"Twenty says Riven chickens out and spends the next week telling me about all the signals she thinks she missed."

Paige laughed, and the sound did something dangerous to your insides. "You know your roommate well."

"Well enough to know she's going to interrogate me about this conversation later."

"This conversation?" Paige shifted slightly closer, and you caught that intoxicating mix of her perfume and something uniquely her. "What's there to interrogate about?"

You gestured vaguely between you. "This whole... whatever this is. Where you're suddenly interested in small talk about my major and making jokes about the universe doing you favors."

"Maybe I just want to know more about the girl who told me to fuck off in the library." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "While wearing my best friend's jacket, no less."

"That was an accident—"

"Was it?" She was definitely closer now, close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in her eyes. "Because from where I was standing, it looked a lot like a challenge."

Your grip tightened on your drink. "Not everything is about you, Bueckers."

"No," she agreed, her voice soft but intense. "But the way you've been looking at me all night? That might be."

The air between you crackled with tension. You should step back. You should remember all the stories, all the warnings, all the reasons this was a terrible idea. You should—

"There you are!" Nika's voice cut through the moment like a bucket of cold water. "Coach just texted. Team meeting tomorrow morning got moved up."

Paige's jaw clenched in frustration, but she recovered quickly. "What time?"

"Eight AM." Nika's eyes darted between you and Paige, her expression far too knowing. "Sorry to interrupt."

"You weren't," you said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly judging by Nika's raised eyebrow.

Paige turned back to you, and the intensity in her gaze made your breath catch. "We'll finish this conversation later."

It wasn't a question.

You watched her walk away, trying to ignore how your body still hummed from her proximity. Nika lingered behind, grinning like she'd just won a bet with herself.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "I've never seen her work this hard for someone's attention before."

"I'm not—" you started, but Nika was already following Paige, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a half-empty Moscow Mule.

Riven materialized beside you moments later, her eyes wide. "Okay, what the hell was that?"

"Nothing," you mumbled into your drink. "Just Paige Bueckers being Paige Bueckers."

But as you watched her gather her team to leave, she turned back just for a moment, catching your eye across the bar. The look she gave you was pure heat, a promise of more conversations to come.

You were so beyond utterly fucked.

[sttm99]

Till Death Do Us Part

Bakugo x reader

Part 2: Only Ever You and Me

Ps: I got bored and decided I hadn't posted in a while, so I did this.

Prince Bakugo, who was arranged to marry you, some princess from another kingdom, despite all his protests.

Not only did he NOT want to get married, but his heart already belonged to someone else; the little shy maid in the corner of the banquet Hall where the wedding reception was being held.

He'd met you for the first time a few months ago, and again, just some hours ago when the wedding was finally held, but he'd already decided on one thing he didn't like about you.

You were perfect.

And not in a good way.

You were perfect in such a way that it had him itching to see something wrong.

He sulked through the whole wedding when you finally arrived at the Palace because you were pretty. Too pretty. You were absolutely stunning, and it had irritation coursing through him.

He saw the way his maid lover looked at you; jealousy and sadness obvious as she saw the way you and him were paraded around the hall.

He hated it. He hated the stupid, royal smile that was permanently etched on your face. He hated how you seemed so prim and proper as you smiled and greeted other nobles around him, laughing when expected, showing empathy to concerns he knew you had never experienced, and that stupid soft voice of yours as you talked about how lucky you were to be married to him.

He hated as he watched you dance around with some generals in the middle of the hall, your movements graceful and perfect, precise and correct.

He had to tear his eyes away from you before the irritation consumed him. Unironically, it had him locking eyes with his lover, his own softening in turn as he stared at her, wanting nothing more than to escape to that empty hallway they always met in.

And he was about to, already standing from his seat and turning to the exit.

But you'd quickly appeared in front of him, soft, irritating smile on your face as you stared up at him so innocently.

"Where are you going, Katsuki?" You asked softly.

"The bathroom," he quickly murmured, already trying to step around you, but you followed, quickly sidestepping so you were in front of him again.

He scowled as you blocked his path, "Oi-"

"You think I don't see you look at her?" You stepped forward, and Bakugo thought he'd heard a mistake because you still had that soft look on your face, yet your voice was suddenly so cold.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, and for the first time, his voice wasn't so aggressive.

But you just grinned at him. "Your little whore, near the drapes at the left end of the hall. You think I don't notice how you stare at her?"

Your observance makes him glare. "So?" He spits out at you, quietly so no one hears. "You think I give a fuck? This wedding is a sham and-"

"And it's the joining of our people," you say softly, practically cooing at him like he's a kid. He hates it, it makes his skin crawl. "It's our duty. I'd hardly call it a sham."

"Doesn't change the fact that I already had someone. Someone whom I loved, who was mine." He growls through gritted teeth, hands clenched by his side.

"But you're not hers," you say with a grin. This one is ugly; it's mean and a borderline sneer. "You're mine, Katsuki. My king. My husband."

"You-"

"At the end of the day, it's me you'll only ever be seen with, it's me who'll be buries next to you, and when we're dead and gone, the history books will say I was your wife."

He's frozen in his place, still trying to process your declaration. You're right. You're stupidly, annoyingly right, but it pisses him off, it scares him, this boldness and this meanness, knowing that he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

But it excited him as well, this confidence and possessiveness, knowing that he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

"With you and her? It's fleeting, quick passion. But you and I?" You grin, "Till death do us part."

He's still frozen in place, suddenly quiet as you step forward and link your arms together. You rest your head on his arm as his mother begins to approach you two.

"Smile, husband," you whisper softly to him. "It's our wedding."

[justwritedreams]

Welcome to the kingdom | Jeno

Chapter Fourteen: Do you think it's funny now?

Prince Jeno x Princess Reader, enemies to lovers au!, royalty au!

Word count: 4407

Genre: smut

Author: maari

Warnings: dirty talk, orgasm denial, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, cum play (i think), they're both horny what can i say lol mentions of loss of virginity and alcohol MDI!!! THIS IS A +18 STORY

Note: AHEM i suck with +18 warnings so just enjoy this filthy dirty chapter

Summary: When the game gets interesting, there is nothing that can be denied. Not even the truth.

<<< Previous | Masterlist |

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Taglist: @floweronacloud, @cookydream, @travelleratheart101, @ilvaussie, @tyongf-sunflower99, @n0hyuck @jihoonismydad @ikayyyyyy (can’t tag you honey 😞), @everloving-avenue , @moonchele , @markspossibilities @mings-cafe @waltermitty97 @madaboutjunmyeon @actually-vl @neomooniez @pvppyhao @yyangj3lly

Y/N and Jeno had been quiet since then, she timidly told him she was going to take a shower but without looking him in the eyes, maybe because her cum was running down her leg as soon as she got out of bed.

Jeno took the time to take a deep breath, it wasn't exactly how he wanted to cum but it had been sexy, he couldn't wait for the rest of the honeymoon.

So he took the opportunity to cook something for them to eat.

They were both weak, they needed to replenish their energy.

The atmosphere between them was so quiet and strange that it wasn't something they would be able to get used to, especially because given their chemistry sitting down and talking about what had happened, it wouldn't happen anytime soon.

The princess cursed even the eighth generation of the person who had packed her suitcase, although the chalet was warm because of the fireplace having only silk nightgowns to sleep in was a bit too much. 

She didn't want to seem like she was teasing Jeno but the red nightgown was bold enough for that, that was one of the reasons she had tied up the robe.

If her legs were still weak from what had happened, she didn't even want to imagine what Jeno would do when he saw her dressed like that. 

Of course, it took her longer than it should have for that to happen. 

She left the bathroom hugging her own body. Jeno's attentive eyes followed her until she passed in front of the kitchen counter. 

She intended to go to the living room and sit as close to the fireplace as possible, if the food he had made didn't smell so nice. 

Enough to make her confused. 

"Since when do you know how to cook?" she asked quietly after a long time analyzing the two dishes. 

"I think since I was 14." He answered and wiped his hands on the dishcloth that was over his shoulder. The princess looked at him curiously and he laughed. "When you're not the direct heir to the throne, you need to find something to do in the castle." 

"And you chose to cook?" she asked, a little surprised. 

"It was that or become a guinea pig for what Haechan called food." Jeno rolled his eyes just remembering his brother's cooking and took the dishcloth off his shoulder.

He was the best of the brothers for that task. And in archery. And in swords.

Even better than the King. 

Y/N didn't say anything but her expression showed how impressed she was mainly because Jeno seemed to have made an exquisite dish with the few ingredients they had there. 

"If you like it, you can try the dessert later." he said and Y/N's stomach growled loudly at the same time making him laugh softly as she agreed. 

The two decided to eat sitting in front of the fireplace in a terrible silence, the princess admired in amazement how talented Jeno was at cooking while he watched her attentively, wanting to know why she had covered herself completely with the robe preventing him from seeing even a glimpse of what she was hiding underneath. 

It couldn't be because of shyness. 

Jeno gently extended his hand to take her plate which although she found it strange, she handed it to him. 

"Would you like some wine?" he asked quietly. 

Y/N looked at him immediately, ready to refuse the offer, not because that night wasn't conducive to a good wine but because the drink affected her senses more than it should. 

She wasn't weak, but she was extremely sly. 

Jeno's eyes didn't look away from hers, he didn't want to convince her if it wasn't what she wanted but maybe a little alcohol would remove that curtain of inhibition that had taken over her. 

"I'd rather stay sober tonight," she replied in the same tone and Jeno agreed, disappearing for a few minutes. 

She watched him, surprised that he hadn't argued and tried to hide her expression by turning her face when he came back with a single glass of wine, sitting in the same place as before. 

The princess didn't even need to look at him to know that he had a question on the tip of his tongue, ready to break that silence that was, to say the least, awkward. 

Jeno moved his fingers around the glass hurriedly, even as he drank, he seemed to get even more anxious with each sip. 

“If you don’t want to choke on the question, you can ask it.” She said without turning her face. 

Jeno blinked in shock a few times before swallowing his wine once more. 

“Why does this place make you so melancholic?” 

The princess felt her entire body stiffen and looked at him as she clenched her jaw so as not to make it too obvious that he was right. He was cunning after all, but just the sad glint in her eyes was enough for Jeno. 

Deep down he could guess the answer.

“Memories.” She sighed and looked back at the fireplace. “Even if I wanted to forget them, they don’t go away so easily.” 

The prince waited for her to continue, but all that came next was silence and nervousness. He could identify the latter when he saw her playing with the red fabric of her robe. 

“Painful?” he asked fearfully and she smiled sideways, shaking her head. 

“No, far from it.” She replied before taking a deep breath. “They just seem wrong right now.” 

“Why?” he asked, curious about the answer but unsure if he even wanted to hear it.

Y/N looked at Jeno, firmly this time.

She would have to trust him, right? And he was the one asking...

“I never had the privilege that you and your brothers had to simply go somewhere else and live for a while away, so I needed to find a place within the kingdom to breathe. This has always been my escape route, my refuge. This is where I ran to when I felt lost, suffocated.” She replied, lost in her memories. “My first kiss was here.”

Jeno swallowed hard, knowing exactly where this conversation was going to lead.

“Your eyes say more than that.” He pointed out and she laughed, humorlessly.

“It seems you also know how to read between the lines.” She concluded and he raised an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t just kisses.”

She shook her head.

“I lost my virginity here too, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

Jeno drank the rest of the wine that went down dragging a lump in his throat, he didn’t want to make her defensive but apparently there was no way to escape.

Not even her reaction, much less the subject.

“Now I’m curious, you have a battalion of security guards behind you and I doubt you would tell them that you were coming here to…” he made exaggerated gestures with his hand instead of speaking the word, as if they hadn’t both come in front of each other a few hours ago.

Y/N tried to contain her nasal laugh in vain.

“It wasn’t planned, Jeno.” She interrupted him and sighed. “I had a meeting with my father and the duke at the hotel nearby, his father was also involved and the duke and I decided to walk a bit that day. It was a very complicated deal, we both had a headache. When we got to the dirt road it started to rain heavily and we needed to find shelter, since I knew the place I brought him here and well, I think you can imagine the rest.”

Jeno kept his serious pose from the moment he heard the word duke.

He imagined the scene and definitely didn’t want it.

“You said the duke, he’s the…”

“Hongjoong? Yeah.” She concluded the sentence with a bit of tension in her voice.

It wasn't the kind of subject she imagined talking to Jeno about on their honeymoon after they had touched themselves in front of each other.

But in a way she was relieved. 

Keeping it all to herself had been suffocating her since the moment she found out that this would be where she would spend her days as a newlywed with Jeno. 

Although Jeno had some suspicions due to the way the two looked at each other at the wedding party, everything seemed to fit perfectly. 

The princess may have been in love with his brother Mark but it was Hongjoong who was marked in her heart, in her memories. In that chalet. 

It was his hands that she remembered, it was his kisses that were embedded in her skin. 

It was his name that she had moaned in that fucking chalet. 

"Are you mad?" the princess asked as she saw him close his fingers against the glass, his eyes fixed on the fireplace.

Jeno clenched his jaw, feeling his blood boil. 

"No." he answered through gritted teeth.

“So why does it seem like you’re going to break the glass with just your hand?” It seemed like an innocent question from the princess and although that was the intention, all it did was draw Jeno’s attention to herself. 

He was staring at her with a fire that wasn’t a reflection of the fireplace.

“Because I’m controlling myself so as not to destroy every memory you have of him in this chalet.” He answered softly and slowly, making the princess’s neck shiver.

It wasn’t just words. It was a promise. 

“Of all the times he kissed your body.” Jeno placed the glass on the floor without taking his eyes off her. “Of all the times he looked at your body with desire while he took off your clothes.” Y/N didn’t have the strength to look away and Jeno started to get closer to her, making her swallow hard. “Of all the times he touched you to the point of making you shiver.” He brought his hand to Y/N’s wrist and even wearing the robe she couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down her body when his fingers went up her arm. “Of all the times he’s been inside you.” 

The princess blinked non-stop as her belly shivered, her defenses had all fallen with Jeno’s voice alone and she tried her best not to brush her thighs but it was a practically impossible task, especially because of the way Jeno was looking at her. 

“It’s not a very fair competition.” She said in a whisper and regretted it at the same time because it sounded like a provocation and it wasn’t. 

Jeno smiled mischievously and in a quick movement, pulled her onto his lap and got up from the floor. The princess immediately put her hands on Jeno’s shoulders while his went straight to her ass, his warm palms gripping her firmly through the fabric so thin it didn’t even seem to exist. 

He took her to the kitchen counter and sat her there, making her frown and almost moan at the sudden contact against the cold marble. 

“It’s not a competition when we already know who the winner is.” he countered and his skillful hands went to the tie that held her robe together, undoing it.

Jeno's eyes ran over the princess's body, more specifically by the exposed skin on both sides of her waist thanks to the nightgown that left little to the imagination.

“What are you- doing?” she stuttered and involuntarily contracted her leg muscles when Jeno’s hands shamelessly roamed her thighs.

“Did he touch you here? On this counter?” he questioned and his fingers found her panties.

Y/N moaned loudly when his fingers actually found her wet and pulsating flesh. She wasn’t wearing panties on purpose and Jeno liked that, widening his smile as he touched her so slowly that it bordered on torture.

“Answer me, princess. Or else I’ll pull away.” He removed his fingers and she felt a painful cold.

“Yes, it was here.” She sounded pathetic and horny.

“Okay.”

Jeno pulled away completely and Y/N looked at him in shock, before she could even complain he was already kneeling in front of her and it was enough for her eyes to widen. 

The air in her lungs escaped when his hands lifted the fabric of her nightgown to her navel, giving him a more than privileged view.

But he was in no hurry and he didn't need to.

Seeing the princess's body give in to his touch was enough and they both got excited with what came next. Jeno distributed wet and slow kisses from the princess's knee to her groin, making her breathe heavily as her torso went back of its own accord.

Jeno grabbed her thighs, using one hand to spread her labia to blow air lightly, Y/N dragged her nails against the marble countertop and closed her eyes feeling her entire body combust as her flesh started to get wet.

A moan escaped her mouth when Jeno kissed her intimately but softly, he didn't seem the least bit concerned about getting straight to the point.

Quite the opposite, he distributed kisses as if that were Y/N's mouth and she didn't even need to have his lips against hers to be sure that he was an expert. 

He wasn't even eating her the way her belly asked for and she was already there, writhing all over, every pore of her body standing on end. 

The princess was sure that her mouth wouldn't stop moaning if she looked at Jeno kneeling in front of her with his head between her legs, that's why she was keeping her eyes closed, but in fact that happened when Jeno used his tongue. 

At first, he licked her so slowly that she pathetically wiggled her hips against his face, he didn't let a single inch of her pussy go untouched by his tongue. 

Then the licks started to be more precise, making her not only moan but also bring both hands to his hair, squeezing his scalp with her nails. 

Jeno took that as encouragement and continued to minister at that rhythm that was too sensual for her to handle. 

He didn't look like a starving man who had come out of the desert, he actually looked like a man completely intoxicated by her taste. 

And it was true that the sound of his languid touch was driving them both crazy with pleasure.

Y/N felt the orgasm building in the tip of her belly, that shiver she knew so well threatened to get even stronger when Jeno stopped abruptly, making her open her eyes in shock and surprise.

She didn't even have the strength to curse him for stopping because Jeno was staring at her like a feline and the palm of his warm hand replaced his mouth, and the princess let out the air she had held while her heart seemed to beat heavily against her ribs.

It wasn't a long pause, Jeno calmed her down briefly to make sure she wouldn't cum and then his mouth returned to her pussy.

Y/N's moans seemed like a perfect symphony with the wet sound of Jeno's licks who didn't seem the least bit interested in ending that torture any time soon.

He repeated this several times, every time she seemed like she was going to cum he stopped to calm her down with his hand and then returned with his mouth to the place where he didn't want to stop playing with his tongue.

It wasn't just Y/N's belly that was contracting, it was her whole body. 

She didn't know how long he would continue in that denial, even though it was obvious from her pleas that she needed to cum.

When Jeno seemed satisfied with the desperate way she was saying please, not only did his lips work wonders but also his fingers.

At this point, the princess already had her thighs pressing both sides of Jeno's head against her pussy, she could barely control her body. It seemed like a shock wave was running through her veins.

Without any shame and without thinking about anything else, she came violently against his fingers and lips which didn't seem to be enough for Jeno since he didn't waste a single drop and licked her until her body stopped shaking.

Y/N could barely pull air into her lungs when Jeno stood up, her legs falling across the counter like jelly and of course he brought his fingers to his mouth to collect what was left of her orgasm. 

She wanted to hit him on the shoulder but could only smile weakly.

“Do you want to take another shower?” he asked mischievously and she rolled her eyes.

“If I could get up…” she let the sentence trail off and Jeno laughed, proud.

Was that why he had made that feast for her earlier? To make sure he would take away all the energy she had recovered?

Jeno extended his hand to help the princess up and although her legs were still weak, she managed to stay standing.

“I need to sleep.” she warned and Jeno just nodded silently, giving her space to go first.

Y/N felt Jeno’s palm against her ass and the slap made her jaw drop, holding the place that was now burning she turned to face him.

Jeno blinked like the good flirt he was and shrugged.

The princess didn’t argue that night. Because a good part of her had enjoyed it.

[...]

If someone had ever told Y/N that she would be cuddling with Jeno on her honeymoon, she would probably have laughed in the most sarcastic way possible.

But now it wasn't a joke, it was reality.

It was strange how they both had a great night's sleep even though they were sleeping next to each other.

Jeno wasn't the first to wake up, he woke up before the princess but there was something that was awake well before him. His dick.

Well, it was no wonder considering that Y/N's ass was right against his hip, hugging his dick in such a welcoming and warm way that he had no other option but to get erect.

Especially because that nightgown of hers was taking him out of his sanity.

He even considered pulling away before she yelled at him but when she moved around in bed, lazily rolling against his member, there was no strength in the world that would get him out of there.

The ragged breathing probably caught the princess's attention, who seemed slightly awake and when she realized that Jeno's arm was hugging her waist, she tried to move in bed to see if he was also awake.

But she was stopped by Jeno's hand that firmly grabbed her waist.

"Don't move." He pleaded in a whisper so close to Y/N's ear that she shivered.

"Why?" She asked in the same tone, without moving or even blinking.

"Don't make me explain so early."

Y/N frowned when she realized that there was something in his voice, she just couldn't tell if it was pain or...

Her eyes widened when she felt something on her butt.

"The power went out and you have a flashlight in your other hand or-"

"I'm hard." He answered quickly.

The princess brought a hand to her mouth to contain her sincere laughter and although she was managing to muffle the sound, her body vibrated with laughter.

Doing exactly what Jeno had told her not to do.

Because she had her back to him, ended up missing Jeno's hilarious expression of offense.

"Do you think that's funny?" Although she wanted to answer positively, she barely managed.

But of course she should have already known that teasing Jeno would have consequences.

She stopped laughing as soon as Jeno's hand that was holding her waist went down between her legs. The warm palm in contact with her pussy made her swallow a moan.

She wasn't wet. Yet.

"Do you think it's funny now?" he asked provocatively, then gave her ear a light bite.

Y/N not only got goosebumps from head to toe but also closed her eyes.

"You with a hard-on first thing in the morning like a teenager? Yes, it's funny." she replied, controlling her breathing and it was impossible for her heart not to race when she heard his mischievous laugh so close to her ear.

"Use your mouth to moan." He said before completely grinding his hips so she could feel his erection pressed against her ass as Jeno stuck two fingers in her pussy. 

Her legs were still weak, she didn't know if it was because of the night before or because she had just woken up, either way thanks to him her body temperature was rising too fast and her pussy was starting to get soaked. 

The princess couldn't control the way her hips rubbed against Jeno's, that friction against his hard cock was too good, not enough but at that moment as his fingers went in and out of her at a fast pace it was what she needed to start what they were about to do. 

What a great way to wake up. 

Her wet and throbbing pussy seemed to not only be used to Jeno's fingers, but also liked the way he ministered them inside her. 

Her toes wriggled as she felt her orgasm approaching and she let out a hiss but suddenly the rhythm stopped and Jeno's fingers remained still inside her. Forcing her to try to wiggle to continue, but Jeno stopped her with his free hand.

“Beg.” he whispered and the princess was already breathing heavily, so she just shook her head. “Beg and I’ll let you cum.”

“You know I won’t.”

Ah, that little game between the two of them at that moment made everything so much more interesting.

“Okay then.” He took his fingers out of her and she let out a sigh. Jeno just held her pussy again with the palm of his hand and she wiggled desperately for more. “I’m going to torture you, just like yesterday.”

The princess, irritated at having had the orgasm she so wanted denied, turned to face Jeno and one of her hands went to his shoulder, making him lie down completely on the bed.

Before Jeno could question, she was already climbing onto his lap.

As soon as she sat on top of his hard cock, Jeno hissed.

“I can do it myself, if you want.” She raised her eyebrow and he smiled widely, putting both hands behind his head.

Giving her complete freedom to do whatever she wanted.

But what he didn't expect was for the princess's agile hands to invade his underwear and take his member out, exposing the view she wanted to have had when he touched himself in front of her.

Jeno thought he was going to cum right there when the princess guided his cock to her burning pussy, she moaned at the contact and he just opened his mouth without being able to make a sound.

Y/N wanted to torture and tease him as much as he had done since they arrived at the chalet, so she used his member superficially only on her clit.

"I'm not going to fuck you here like this." he warned, bringing both hands to her waist that was riding provocatively on his lap while her fingers directed his cock exactly the way she wanted her clit to be touched.

"No, you won't." she agreed and Jeno's eyes burned for her. It was as if he transmitted all the strength he was using to simply not penetrate her all at once. "But you're going to make me cum."

"Fuck."

Jeno's eyes were lost in her pussy, the way she used his own member to touch herself without even threatening to put it in her entrance. 

Of course, if she did that, he was sure he wouldn't be able to control himself, so he just let the princess use his member.

After all, it was delicious to see her moan loudly and cum in his lap, taking his cock to her entrance to collect all the cum that was dripping out. 

He bit his lower lip so hard but he didn't even care at that moment, he was so hard for her.

But Jeno didn't seem to be the only one who had woken up horny, Y/N used her own cum on his cock to touch him and it was the most sensual and addictive scene he had ever witnessed.

Seeing the princess's hand there, making everything he had literally dreamed of, was too much for his poor heart.

He knew she was doing it as a kind of revenge for all the provocations but that didn't stop him from moaning. 

When the sound came out of his mouth, it seemed to instigate the princess even more so that she could make Jeno cum.

And although in his fantasy her mouth would also be involved in that touch, it was still not necessary because she made him cum with just her hand.

She looked at him with pride and Jeno felt a fire so alive inside him that he was unable to think straight.

All he wanted was her.

All he needed was her.

"Sit on my face." he ordered, calling her with his hand.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling her pussy practically forcing her to obey and of course she didn't refuse, mainly because the way Jeno looked at her was making her feel powerful, desired.

She tried her best not to suffocate him but Jeno seemed to have other plans, he pulled her against his face and there he ate her like a starved man. 

His hands held the princess's thighs while hers grabbed his hair desperately.

His tongue, lips and nose were everywhere collecting her juice, entering her pussy making her contract inside, her muscles trembling because of the pleasure. 

Y/N couldn't take her eyes off the way he sucked and licked her thirstily, it was pornographic but it was so good that she could barely breathe, in fact the only function of her mouth was to moan his name over and over again. 

It was the only word she could remember right now.

[kathlare]

through the screen

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: As Lando relaxes with Max after a ski trip, a simple gaming stream turns into a heartfelt moment when he tunes in to watch Amelie on the premiere carpet for Wicked.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

December 21st, 2024 - London, United Kingdom

Lando plopped himself down on Max Fewtrell’s worn-in leather couch, a steaming mug of tea balanced precariously in his hand. His legs stretched out, brushing against Max’s coffee table, which was littered with empty soda cans, a half-eaten pizza, and one of Max’s hoodies.

—You could at least pretend to clean up when you’ve got company,—Lando teased, giving Max a pointed look.

—Mate, you’re not company, you practically live here,— Max shot back, settling down beside him with a bowl of crisps. —Besides, you’re just here to freeload my Wi-Fi and stream. Don’t act high and mighty.—

Lando rolled his eyes but grinned, sipping his tea. They’d just gotten back from his ski trip, and while it had been a blast, he was exhausted. Still, nothing sounded better than unwinding with Max and streaming a bit for the fans.

—Alright, let’s get this started,— Max said, booting up his PC and launching the streaming software. —You’re lucky I’m letting you hijack my setup.—

—Don’t pretend you don’t love it,— Lando replied, leaning over to adjust his camera. Within minutes, the stream was live, and the chat began exploding with messages.

—Alright, alright, calm down, chat. Yes, I’m back. Yes, I survived the ski trip,— Lando said, settling into his usual streaming energy. —Barely, though. Max here almost took me out with his shit skiing.—

—Oi! I was great,— Max interjected, shoving a handful of crisps into his mouth.

—Sure, mate. You were great at falling on your arse every five minutes,— Lando shot back, smirking.

The chat lit up with laughter emojis and comments, and Max pretended to glare at the screen.

—Right, let’s see what we’ve got lined up for today. Bit of gaming, maybe some Q&A. Keep it chill,— Max said, clicking through a few settings.

But as they got started, a notification popped up on Lando’s phone. He glanced at it, then froze, his eyes widening.

—Oh, shit,— he muttered.

—What?— Max asked, leaning over.

—The Wicked New York premiere is starting. Ames is probably on the carpet right now,— Lando said, his voice softening as he pulled up the livestream on his phone.

Max gave him a knowing look. —You want me to put it up on the big screen?—

—You read my mind,— Lando said, his grin spreading as Max switched the stream to the TV.

The chat exploded again.

“He’s so whipped.” “Lando’s about to start simping.” “Can’t blame him. Amelie is stunning.”

As the stream began showing the yellow carpet, Lando leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze glued to the screen. When Amelie appeared, her glittering gown catching the lights, he let out an audible breath.

—That’s my girl,— he said softly, almost to himself.

—Here we go,— Max teased, nudging him. —Full simp mode activated.—

—Shut up, mate. Look at her. She’s…— Lando trailed off, shaking his head with a smile that practically lit up the room. —She’s unreal. How is she real?—

The chat was going crazy, with fans spamming heart emojis and comments like:

“LAN IS WHIPPED.” “Couple goals, honestly.” “Protect this man at all costs.”

Max laughed, tossing a crisp at Lando. —You’re acting like you’ve never seen her before.—

—I haven’t seen her in person for a week, alright?— Lando said dramatically, leaning back against the couch. —And she’s been busy with this press tour and all these premieres. She looks amazing. She always does, but this… bloody hell.—

Max shook his head, laughing. —You’re unbelievable, mate. Absolutely gone for her.—

—Damn right I am,— Lando said proudly. He pointed at the screen as Amelie waved at the fans and posed for photos. —That’s my girlfriend. Mine. I still can’t believe it sometimes.—

—We know, mate. Trust me, we know,— Max said, grinning.

The chat, meanwhile, was eating it up.

“He’s literally glowing just talking about her.” “The way he’s staring at the screen tho 😭.” “Amelie better watch this later. He’s so proud.”

Lando leaned back, letting out a content sigh. —You know what’s funny? I don’t even care if the chat thinks I’m being dramatic. I miss her like crazy. I mean, it’s only been a week, but it feels like months.—

—You two were glued at the hip for a month straight before this, mate. What did you expect?— Max teased.

—Yeah, but it’s different now. We’ve got this rhythm, you know? We’re both busy, but we make it work. And when we’re together… it’s just easy. Feels like we’ve been doing this forever,— Lando said, his tone softening.

Max gave him a genuine smile. —You’ve got it bad, Lan. But it suits you.—

—Thanks, I think?— Lando replied, chuckling. He glanced at the chat and grinned. —Alright, chat. Say what you want, but I’ll never shut up about her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.—

The chat lit up again, with messages like:

“He’s so in love, it’s insane.” “Amelie is one lucky woman, but honestly, so is Lando.” “We love a supportive boyfriend.”

As the stream continued, Lando and Max kept the premiere playing in the background. Every time Amelie appeared on screen, Lando would light up, pointing out little things like how she adjusted her dress or how she smiled at a fan.

—You’re going to see her tomorrow, aren’t you?— Max asked, trying to suppress a grin.

—Yeah, but not soon enough,— Lando said, running a hand through his hair. —And then we’re spending Christmas in Mexico with her family. Can’t bloody wait.—

—Better get ready for her brothers to give you shit,— Max said, laughing.

—I’ve survived worse. Besides, they like me now. Mostly,— Lando replied, smirking.

Max laughed, shaking his head. —You’re so whipped, mate. But honestly? Good for you.—

Lando just grinned, his eyes flicking back to the screen. —Yeah. Good for me.—

[49436]

Taking on @batmanisagatewaydrug 's 2025 Book Bingo (along with my wife & housemate, so it's now on our fridge. Taking me back to summer reading lists from the library)

I tend to work down my to-read list in order, unless there's something I really want to get to, so most of this list is 'what's the first thing I'll hit that fills the criteria'. But some books earn the right to skip the line, for one reason or another.

Going for a full board, which means actual bingo might take a minute lol

List below-

Literary Fiction - TBD

Short Story Collection - Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. Chain-Gang All Stars was on my top 10 from 2024 so even though short stories and I don't tend to get along, this one I'm excited about. Will also try Drinking From Graveyard Wells by Yvette Lisa Ndlovu

Sequel - Either A Victory of Eagles by Naomi Novik or Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao. A matter of which one I get first; My library doesn't have physical copies of Heavenly Tyrant yet, and my wife owns all of Temeraire, so it might win.

Childhood Favorite - Might be Watership Down by Richard Adams, which is always a banger, but I reread Watership just a couple years ago, so it might be The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander instead, which I read many times with my mom and still have the whole series of.

20th Century Speculative Fiction - TBD

Fantasy - A Taste of Honey by Kai Ashante Wilson. I read so much fantasy, BUT I already have A Taste Of Honey on my side table. So here we are.

Published Pre-1950 - The Iliad (and The Odyssey) translated by Emily Wilson. Heard a lot of noise about her translation, and haven't read these two since... idk but it's been over a decade. Also going to hop on the Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier train.

Indie Publisher - The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms trilogy by N.K. Jemisin. I read a LOT of indie publishers and Jemisin if one of my all-time favorite writers. I've been putting off this series for a time I can really get into it and burn down all three.

Graphic Novel - Dorohedoro by Q Hyashida. Currently on volume 8, will probably finish the series in the next week or two. Love love love Hyashida's work

Animal on the cover - Plague Dogs by Richard Adams. Despite my aforementioned childhood obsession with Watership Down I never got around to Plague Dogs. Looking forward to it!

Set in a country I've never visited - TBD

Sci-Fi - Another genre I'll read a thousand of in a year. Currently I have Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie on my side table (which I fear may be mid, but time will tell) I'm also VERY excited to read The Spare Man by Mary Robinette Kowal

2025 Debut Author - TBD

Memoir - Love Is An Ex-Country by Randa Jarrar. Memoirs aren't usually my thing, but this one made it's way onto my to-read list last year so this is good motivation.

Zine - TBD. Browsing all the other posts from people doing this challenge for recs

Essay Collection - How To Read Now by Elaine Castillo. Literally the only essay collection on my to-read list and it jump scared me. Thought for sure this would a TBD, but How To Read Now should be interesting.

2024 Award Winner - TBD. Will trawl award lists when I have time

Non-Fiction - Facing the Wave: A Journey in the Wake of the Tsunami by Gretel Ehrlich. Specifically chose something that doesn't also count as social justice/activism, which is most of my non-fiction reads. I've found a real appreciation for good non-fiction the last few years (Everyone go read Swimming to Antarctica by Lynne Cox). Learning stuff is cool!

Social Justice/Activism - Everything you Love Will Burn: Inside the Rebirth of White Nationalism in America by Vegas Tenold. Excited for this one.

Romance - TBD. Tend to read romance that's also another genre (romantasy side eye at myself) so I've inevitably got one on my list. But maybe Akwaeke Emezi will write another romance and sweep me off my feet.

Recipe - Steak wrap pinwheels. My wife has been watching Food Truck Race (lol. lmao even) and one of the contestants made these. Stealing the idea with impunity.

Horror - Fever House by Keith Rosson. I've got a rich vein of horror novels on my to-read list, but this will be one of the first.

Published in the Aughts - TBD I'm old. I read of lot of 00's work.

Historical Fiction - Velvet Was The Night by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Is the 70's historical? I think the 70's is historical now. One of the final 3 books of Moreno-Garcia's I haven't read, and she's never let me down. Might read another Phryne Fisher Mystery or two as well, because they're quick and fun.

Librarian recommendation - TBD. I love my library and there's a few librarians who know me, will have to ask their opinions. Talking to a person! Not just taking one off the recommended shelf! Wild!

[sageourplanetmeow]

Indie Animations I Recommend

Haven’t posted in a while since, as I have said, my Apple Pencil broke and I haven’t been able to work on commissions or that one hazbin hotel animation… which I was actually getting through for once. Also I have fallen into a Varian And The Seven Kingdoms obsession.

Anyhow I shall now take the chance to share a couple indie animations I’ve watched/been watching recently possibly with a brief note about what kind of audience would enjoy it (might not be accurate I dunno)

First and foremost The Epilogue Of Endings which released approximately 12 hours ago as of when I’m writing this. And just before I summarise anything I just want to praise this pilot for HOW AMAZING IT IS DESPITE ITS SMALL BUDGET! The animation is fantastic and I swear something about it makes me so happy. The art style is also amazing (in my opinion) and suits the character designs perfectly. I love the character designs, just saying, and the voice acting is superb. I think my favourite designs from it are Blu (because I mean the mask and metal arms are pretty damn cool) and the ————. I won’t say who they are because the reveal is too good to miss, but you might be able to guess who I’m talking about if you’ve watched it.

Now to say what happens. This takes place after the sun ya know, goes. I think I’m probably the most interested by what exactly is going on with Mole but I think my favourite character thus far is Blu. I suggest you go watch it, it’s very cool. I think if you like Indie animation in general then this is a good pic due to its indie feel (positive). Also would suggest to people who enjoy slightly creepy media (it’s not that creepy in my opinion but it does feature the downfall of humanity and what happens after the sun dies so it’s slightly unsettling, it masters that feeling).

And here’s their Kickstarter

We also have Dreamworld which also has a season 2, I’m just linking the first one though so just so you know you can find the second season on the channel. As said by the creator, it borrows certain tropes/aspects from analogue horror and has animatronics. As it says up there it is a sci-fi horror series that is intended to be accessible to younger fans of the genre. Again, I love the story and the character designs. So far, my favourite character and character design belongs to THE Star Light. I’m starting to see a theme with me liking sun/moon/star themed animatronics. I mean this guy has a BOW TIE and a charming smile. If I wasn’t already dressing up as Varian for Halloween then I think I would’ve looked into trying to dress as Star Light.

The pilot hasn’t released but the animation from this teaser is SO GOOD! I’m excited to see the pilot. There’s also been music/songs released by them, I can’t remember if I’ve gotten around to listening to any but I fully intend on doing so.

I’m sorry but how is the animation this good with only one person animating it (I might’ve gotten that wrong). I find the character designs really cool and the art style is fun. They’re in space. The voice acting is good. Also just gonna say, they have merch.

This is Dungeon Flippers, a fantasy real-estate cartoon following Maulie, a manticore. (I copied and shortened down the description of the YouTube channel)

The animation is great and the voice acting is really good. The story is interesting and The Ace Of Wands Theme is a joy to listen to every time.

I don’t know how to describe the plot but lemme just… the animation deserves praise, it suits the vibe of the pilot and the character designs are amazing. Voice acting is also fun and I’d recommend this even if it’s just sea side/coast vibes you’re looking for.

This one is a YouTube channel that posts OC animatics and has posted Sundrop and Moondrop animations, just saying I think they drew the Sun and Moon Q&A comics soooo that was my introduction to their work.

Just watch this and you will see some PEAK animation.

Again, the animation is awesome.

https://youtu.be/XPE3nTxV2_k?si=Rgd5yBL9_B-Fl5i7

And that’s where the video limit comes, alas, but check it out. It’s by Meppity and has some really good paper looking animation.

And this is where we have the indie animated stuff (I consider it that at least) centred around pre-existing shows.

I myself am looking forward to making my own indie animated stuff or comics (I haven’t really decided, I’m just working on different characters whilst also writing fanfics and drawing fan comics and other art stuff on top of art homework. YAY

Here is one… dated… animation I did a year ago which took me a while.

https://youtu.be/jmteRdRgHWI?si=o-p-l9gheLSkw7Xr

It’s for an OC, but with their old design. The new design has a satchel, otherwise nothing changed to be honest. I also have done another animation which was far more rough but it was me animating whilst seeing who would win the election so it’s political and not about any of my ocs or any actual characters. As I said, I already have another animation in the works for Alastor so I have to wait till my Apple Pencil gets fixed or replaced to continue working on it.

[space-bugcat]

Oh the contract and similar between Q!Phil and Q!Bad make me go fuking CRAZYYYYY. Oh, how cc!Phil and cc!Bad nailed so perfectly in describing what an immortal would look like.

Both are immortal species who live through thousands and thousands of years, fought in hundred battles, watched kingdoms rise and fall. Two of the most experienced members on the island are the most hypocritical.

They are so full of themselves. They always think what they are doing is right, is the only way, are for the best outcome cuz they lived through it all. And the way they justify their actions, even come out of their way to make people think they are right is just GHHDGSHSHJSJ!!!! (I love them so much)

Most of the time they are right. They DID see it happen lots of times, their actions always have a good motive behind them. BUT AGAIN they believed their actions were so right they did not talk to others about it even to the ones they love and care for, they just did it.

Oh, how the higher beings are so blinded by their knowledge they refuse to see what they did is not all the times good, not every thing easy to justify.

[weegee-simp69]

Mr. L and Tickles

{fic inspired by this post by @coy-lee! I absolutely love the art they made of the bros and decided to write this!}

Luigi was feeling devious. Maybe it was wrong to do this to his brother considering what the outfit he’s about to put on may cause Mario major stress, but he hoped what he was going to do in the outfit would worry him less. Luigi put on the black shirt and pants, a green bandana around his neck, a mask on his eyes, and his green hat with a backwards L pin slapped over the regular L. He chuckled to himself as he pumped himself up for the prank.

Mario sat in the living room of the bro’s shared house watching tv completely unaware of what was about to happen.

“Hello, Mario..” Luigi- Mr. L said in a menacing voice.

Mario turned his head to behind the couch to the horrifying discovery. His brother had been taken over by his evil counterpart again.

He leapt up from the couch, “Luigi!?”

“Luigi’s not here anymore, only me! The better brother, and the superior brother! Especially superior to you..” Mr. L smirked. (Luigi tried not to laugh.)

“Get out of his head, now!”

“Oh, Mario.. I think you need to calm down a bit. Thankfully, I know just what to do!”

Mario backed away, not knowing what to do. He didn’t wanna hurt him or fight him. Mr. L walked towards Mario around the couch, hands behind his back.

“Luigi, listen, I know you’re in there, fight it please! Fight him! You’re stronger than him, you don’t have to do….. this?..” Mario’s voice faltered as he looked down to Mr. L’s hands.

He whipped them up from behind his back, and began wiggling his fingers, smiling. Mario backed up a bit quicker, completely confused. A blush rose in his cheeks from the motion.

“D-don’t take another step closer. I- I’m warning y-!”

Before Mario could finish that, Mr. L sped walked towards him, and his hands darted to Mario’s sides, scribbling them. Mario gasped, and tried to shove his hands away but they just kept coming back.

“W-WAIT- What are yohohou- you doing?!-” he felt a little smile form, but tried to keep his bubbling laughter down.

“Oh no.. what’s this? Is the hero of the mushroom kingdom a little.. ticklish?~” Mr. L teased.

“Nohoho- NO! I- I’m not! Q-quhihit that!” Mario giggled.

Try as he might, but somehow Mr. L was targeting his ticklish spots perfectly. Mario continued to try and get away, but he just kept following. Until Mario ended up hitting the wall. Then, L attacked.

He gently grabbed Mario away from the wall, turned them around, and pushed him to the ground by his shoulders. He quickly changed positions, grabbing Mario’s arms, pinning them above his head before sitting on them.

It all happened so fast, Mario barely had time to think about it.

“I’ve got you now, Mario!~” Mr. L teased.

“L- Lu! Think about what you’re doing! F-fight it, Luigi!” Mario pleaded.

“Oh I’ve thought about it, and I think Luigi would want me to do this rather than trying to hurt you, now, laugh!”

Mr. L went for Mario’s armpits first, wiggling his fingers in both of them.

“WAIT NOHOHOHO!! HAHAHAHA N-NOT THAT PLEHEHEASE! NO TI-TICKLES OH GOHOHOSH!!” Mario threw his head back instantly, giggling madly.

“Muwahaha! Yes tickles!! My what a ticklish hero you are!~”

Mr. L’s fingers skittered down Mario’s ribs, squeezing them rapidly, smiling genuinely at Mario’s laughter. His fingers landed on his tummy that was peeking out from his shirt sending Mario into hysterics.

“NOT THEHEHEHERE PLEHEHEASE HEHEHEAHAHAHA ITS SO BAD S-STAHAHAP!!”

Mario kicked his feet and twisted as much as he could, but couldn’t escape the determined fingers. Then a finger landed in his belly button and he let out a high pitched screech followed by more high pitched cackles and snorts.

“Ohoho seems I found a good spot! Hahaha, you’re doomed, Mario! Nowhere to go, can’t even cover up your tickle spots, you’re completely at my mercy! Tickle tickle!”

“Also while I have the upper hand here, I heard the silly little fight you bros had earlier and just wanted to remind you.. we both know who’s the superior jumper here, right bro?”

“WHY ARE YOHOHOU DOING THIHIHIS?! LUIHIHIHIGI F-FIGHT IHIHIT!! YOU’RE BRAIN WAHAHAHASHED! MEHEHERCY PLE- EHEHEHEHE!!!”

The fingers then skittered back up to his armpits and squeezed right below them occasionally switching to poke rapidly all over his upper body. Mario wheezed and screamed, kicking his feet and whipping his head around. He opened his tear filled eyes for a moment to see a soft smiling face looking down at him. He knew that smile was Luigi’s. It wasn’t evil, it was genuine and happy. Was Luigi pranking him just so he could do this? Mario couldn’t look any longer for he squeezed his eyes shut again letting out a loud snort as his belly was tickled again.

Luigi wanted to keep up the Mr. L persona for a bit longer just because it was fun, but Mario’s laughter went silent, so he decided to give him mercy.

As Mario recovered from the tickle attack, Mr. L removed his mask.

“Hehe! Just kidding, tadaaa!! It’s just Luigi haha!!” Luigi exclaimed, very proud of himself.

Mario brought his arms down when Luigi scooted off them. He panted, trying to get his breath back.

“Ah… just.. Luigi huh?..” he huffed, slightly unamused.

He slowly sat up, and turned his head to look at Luigi, “meno male.. that’s good news! That means you were in full control of yourself and knew exactly what you were doing the whole time..~”

Luigi gulped, “uh.. heheh y-yeah..”

Mario spun around, a wicked smirk on his face, “and you knew there would be consequences, right little bro?”

Luigi’s eyes widened, and he tried to get up and run, but Mario tackled him and straddled his legs.

“Wait, M-MaRIO I’M SORRY PLE-HEHEHE OH NOHOHO!” Luigi was cut off by Mario squeezing his ribs.

“How dare you trick me like that! What a cruel prank to play on your poor, innocent big brother! I’m sorry but you know the rules, fratellino.~ So if you wanna play, I’ll play too, Weegee!~” Mario teased as his little trickster brother wiggled in his grasp.

Mario went for Luigi’s belly, skating his fingers all over it, and going up his sides.

“Kitchy kitchy coo!! Aww what a ticklish little brother I have here!~”

Luigi threw his head back, snorting, “MAHAHAHA- HAHAHAHAHA!! NO MOHOHORE I’M SORRYHEHEHE!”

Mario just shook his head, smiling, then got an idea..

He scooted down on his legs a bit more, pulled up Luigi’s shirt, grabbed his arms pinning them, and blew a huge raspberry right on his belly button.

Luigi snapped his eyes open and absolutely screamed.

“MARIO N-NOT THEHEHEHEHERE! OH NOHOHOHO NO RASPBEHEHERRIES PLEHEHEASE!” Luigi pleaded with tears in his eyes.

Mario simply continued unloading raspberry after raspberry on Luigi’s tummy. Luigi kicked his legs as much as he could, but Mario had him pinned at the thighs making mobility difficult.

“Now, tell me who the best brother in the whole world is.. and I might give you mercy,~” Mario teased.

“Y-YOHOHOU ARE YOU AHAHAHARE PLEHEHEASE ITS SO BAHAHAHAD!!”

“Wow, that was quick, I don’t think you’ve ever surrendered that fast! Alright, alright, I’m done. Now, what did you learn?” Mario smiled.

Luigi huffed between loud giggles, “tohoho not prank yohohou..”

“Mhm. So, you won’t do it ever again right, bro?”

Luigi knew he was bound to get himself screwed with this, but, fuck it.

“…oh absolutely.. not! You’re so gullible it’s so easy to prank y- OHOHOU AAAA OKAY HAHAHA I’M SORRY I’M SORRYHEHEHE!!” as he expected, he was cut off by Mario digging into his hips.

Mario grinned as Luigi fell back into hysterics, “well, seems I’m not done with you, yet, Weeg. Round two for yoooou!~”

Luigi knew he would be there for a while.

[may85]

Title: Beyond the Veil Part 1

Character: Logan Howlett x Psychic Medium!Reader

Warnings: Mention of attempted suicide (NO description)

Photo/GIF credits go to the original maker/owner

The whispers followed you around wherever you went. Whether they’d be living or dead, that wouldn't make a difference. 

It was an ending loop of constant noise which led you to your mental breakdown and ultimately your hospitalization. You hadn't meant to, but the thought of ending it all didn't sound all that bad. Maybe then you'd get your peace.

The sterilized smell of the hospital was one that you welcomed but nauseated you at the same time. You stayed to yourself, staring into a corner. You always listened to the nurses, took your medication, ate, bathed and slept when they told you.

Most of the nurses treated you just fine, but there was at least two that you knew of that had no problems taking advantage of the mentally ill.

Mind your p’s and q’s, take your medicine and you didn't have to worry about the noise or repercussions from the shady nurses.

Then it all changed one day. A voice broke through the haze, making you jump at the sudden intrusion.

“It's quite alright my dear,” the voice belonged to an older, soft spoken gentleman.

“You have nothing to fear,”

But you felt as you did. Slapping your hands over your ears, you began to rock back and forth, “Leave me alone… leave me alone…”

When a hand landed on your shoulder, you slung your elbow out and heard a crunch.

“Mother fucker!” A male nurse yelled out, blood pouring from his hands as he led his nose.

It was then that two more nurses took hold of your arms and dragged you kicking and screaming into a padded room. There they belted you down to the bed as you hyperventilated. You watched as they filled a needle and injected it into your arm. It was then that the voices finally stopped and you went to sleep.

When you came to, the smell of sandalwood and cardamom filled your lungs. Immediately you shot up and frantically looked around. No longer in the hospital, but in a cozy bedroom and on the softest bed you'd ever lay on.

“Hey there,” a deep, but soft voice came from your left.

The man was tall, wearing a white tank top, blue jeans and boots.

“Whe-,” your voice broke. Clearing it you whispered, “Where am I?”

The man leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, “Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Children, “ he extended his hand to you, “I'm Logan,”

Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face before proceeding with caution as you shook his hand.

“Y/N Cantrell,”

When his long fingers wrapped around your hand, you felt him touch the bandage that was wrapped there. You couldn't help but jerk your hand away from him.

“The Professor will be around shortly to talk to you. I'll bring you something to eat in the meantime. So you can get your strength up.”

Logan rose from his chair and went to leave, but paused briefly before closing the door behind him, “Whatever happened… for what it's worth, I'm glad it didn't take,”

He left you dumbfounded. A man who didn't know you from kingdom come was glad that your attempt at killing yourself wasn't successful. It wasn't every day that you encountered that type of kindness. 

A quiet, “Thank you,” was all that you could manage.

It didn't hit you until you were alone that you hadn't heard one cry of help, one scream, one demand… That was how you met the X-Men.

[torchwood-99]

#3, #19, #27 for in character ask game, for Eowyn!!

For the in-character ask game: 4 for Eowyn and 19 for Faramir!

Q: If your schedule was cleared of all prior commitments (school, work, meetings, chores, family obligations, appointments, errands, etc.) and you had an entire day to spend at your leisure, what all would you do?

Eowyn: I would rise early, before the dawn. I would get a sack of food and drink from the kitchen, and ride away into the forest to watch the sunrise. I would spend all day exploring Ithilien, by foot or mount, jumping fallen tree stumps, wading in the streams, and sleeping under the sun on a bed of flowers. I would walk barefoot, and bind my hair with grass, and fish for my own supper and cook trout over an open fire. I would eat with my fingers and there would be none to chide me for not eating like a lady. I would only turn for home when the sun begins to set, and I would linger a while at the gates of Emyn Arnen, buried in shadows, to wish sweet night to the stars, by the names gifted to them by the folks of the Mark, and bid them carry my good wishes to my brother, and Merry, and my dear friends far away, who look on them also. 

Q: What is a life lesson that has stuck with you?  Where did you first hear it?

Faramir: I was fortunate to be guided in my education by wise Mithrandir, who might be best known to you as Gandalf the Wizard. He did indulge my love of history, and encouraged me to seek to emulate the best of my fathers. But he also did advise me not to cleave too fierce to the past, for it would be an ill thing to cosset the memory of those long since passed, and forget to value the lives of the living. Since that day I have sought always to remind myself that of all my responsibilities, it is my duty to my fellow Man that I must hold above all else.  

#3, #19, #27 for in character ask game, for Eowyn!!

Q: Do you have any pets?  If yes, where does your pet sleep?  Does your pet help you with your daily tasks?  How did your pet come into your life? (Adoption? Rehoming? Gift? Found as a stray? Bought from a pet store?)  If no, do you have plans on getting one?

By the understanding of your people, you might consider Windfola and our dearest horses “pets”, but they are more than that. They are our brothers, our sisters, our children. They’re the lifeblood of my people. I did witness Windfola’s own birth, and assist in his deliverance. He was born in a great gale midwinter, for which he was named. 

On marrying Faramir, I was also presented three cats from my brother, as is tradition for brides in our kingdom. They are to keep the rats down, and I do think keep company for young brides missing their father’s home. They are dear things, and I take great joy in them, but I do not think it be right to call them pets, as they do not consider themselves such by any meaning. Sovereigns would be more apt.

As a girl, I did take to collective all manner of bugs and little things. Woodlice I loved, and spiders also, and I named them my pets. For my studies in herblore, and so I will always have somewhere warm to put my hands into dirt even in winter, my Lord Faramir built me a fine glasshouse, and there are a few spiders that have made their homes within, and good friends they are to me.

Q: What is a life lesson that has stuck with you?  Where did you first hear it?

That all darkness passes. My beloved Faramir was not the first to speak at me and tell me there was reason to hope, and reason to hope to live, but hearing his words was the first time in many years I felt it to be true, for the days before he had taken such efforts as to make them something to be believed.

Q: You have just woken up and discovered that you switched bodies with someone else for 24 hours.  Whose body is it?  What is it like being this person for a day?

Eowyn: I wish to awake as my brother, Eomer King. For many years I have envied the freedom with which he rode, the valour with which he fought, the love those people under his lead have for him. Oft I yearned to find myself within his skin and be as he is.

Now that I have love, freedom and valiant deeds done, my wish to be him for the day remains, but now only to do as all younger sisters shall, and leave him with a great deal of embarrassment when the day ends, and he is himself once more. 

[give-grian-rights]

can you or someone show the clip of someone bringing up yhs and grian being uncomfortable? I heard about it but idk if it's actually real

i'm not sure that clip exists, if it does I certainly haven't seen it. This might be someone getting confused with the clip of him getting uncomfortable at kingdom of valor being brought up, which happened at a convention panel.

I'm not sure if that video is still up

I know there's this vlog of the q&n at Insomnia 57. Honestly watching real life content of sam makes me uncomfortable so i did NOT skim through the whole video looking for it. I did look for another vlog I remember, and I think that one might be taken down?

I specifically remember a vlog of this convention where they're behind the scenes of the stage, on a computer. and they're looking at Wattpad fanfictions for yandere high school. I know this existed because that's what made me start writing yhs fanfiction on wattpad. whoever's vlog it was might be taken down. and no, I don't believe it's in Joey's Insomnia vlog, even though there is a scene where they're messing with the computers backstage.

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

to listen to what was consumed

Mbelekhūrūz = Melkor (V) Melyanna = Melian (Q) Mânawenûz = Manwë (V)

___

Mbelekhūrūz is dozing when Grogmar brings the news of Doriath’s end. So the kingdom has fallen – most of its folk exterminated, the rest broken and dispersed. He thought to subjugate Doriath easily after Meylanna’s departure, but consistently had his deployed forces been repelled. To be sure, this was no work of his, though he is disappointed to say. He would have liked to take that kingdom off guard and ravage it himself.

Grogmar kneels still. Mbelekhūrūz watches him. He can feel the orc’s fear. Once he would have reveled in it; now it barely tickles. But nonetheless he delays, peering down without word, and Grogmar grows more terrified by the moment. Then, abruptly, Mbelekhūrūz finds his dread tiresome.

“And tell me,” he says, “what was the cause?”

“My liege!” The salute grates on his ears. “It was attacked.”

Mbelekhūrūz waits, but there is no elaboration. Damned fool.

“Ah, Grogmar,” he murmurs, “you test your luck.” The cretin blanches, but Mbelekhūrūz cannot find the bother to kill him. Impatient, he gestures. “By whom was it attacked?”

“My liege!” The salute is more hesitant this time. “A Noldorin host, led by the seven brothers.”

Keep reading on ao3

[short666bread]

No one Tagged Me But… ^ I love to yap

Besides @smehur tagged @s0lifuge which is basically like if they tagged me, just, eventually. with extra steps

Last song: according to Spotify, I’m in the middle of listening to Das Model by kraftwerk but the actual last song I listened to is Tambor Urbano. Does ensuing tinnitus count as a song?

Favourite Colours: lately I’ve been wearing a lot of green and browns. I like all colours really except for the ugly ones. They know who they are.

Last Book: literally, The Pale King. I am always fucking relistening to The Pale King especially on airplanes. it’s my favourite, and embarassing. at least if I were into Infinite Jest people would know I’m insufferable. Instead I’m forced to explain that I’m insufferable. The indignity of it all. I am also reading Naked Lunch, slowly.

Last Fic: When I typed this it was Alpha Watch I: Sin For Me by furiosity (my kingdom for part II, alas) but between then and now I saw a post that made me reread Leather Mommy by deja_lu (my kingdom for chapter 6, alas!!)

Last Movie: I rewatched Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop and am now halfway through Spirited Away in French, repeating words to myself as language practice

Last TV Show: if YouTube counts as TV, TheRealJims Simpsons videos. If YouTube counts but only if it’s also actual television, John Oliver. Otherwise, I’m watching OK KO with a (currently) long distance friend.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: this is not enough info but I’ll say savoury? Because it’s the broadest category? Spicy things are usually also savoury things I feel like. But also I’ve been big into fruit so, idk. I think food is abt relationships, one note is no good - hypocrit who also loves plain oat gruel.

Relationship Status: aimless, basically, romantically. considering being less aimless, aimlessly.

Last Thing I Googled: is doxable. But basically internet drama re: a formerly local nonprofit.

Current Obsession: oh, god, unfortunately my health, rumination go brrrrr. Drarry, obv. I love to talk about them. Trying new kombuchas (a bev I used to capital H Hate!)

Looking Forward To: December, I’m scheduled for de-tit-ification :) and tomorrow, seeing my cat again.

It’s supposed to be ‘10 people you want to get to know better’ but. Not tagging anyone in the spirit of If You Read This And Want To Do It Just Go For It, since that’s clearly my current MO :) Q and A is fun!!

[gladdyator18]

You’ve Activated My Trap Hug - TickleTober2024 Day 11 (Hug)

Tailored to the fabulous @giggly-squiggily! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: When Ashton is visiting the Rosalina, he starts acting like a little brat, which isn't too uncommon. Luckily, Rosalina knows how to deal with brats like her boyfriend.

Word Count: 1417

It's no secret the Princess of Xiruthia and the heir to House Galileus are an item. It was quite a surprise when Ashton proclaimed his feelings towards Rosalina, but it all worked out when she did the same. The two love spending time together, messing with each other, and just being in the other's company. At times, Ashton is a bit of a brat and likes to annoy Rosalina whenever the urge strikes. Luckily, the princess knows how to deal with her bratty boyfriend.

It was a warm afternoon, and Ashton decided to visit his girlfriend at the palace. When he arrived, the guards and castle staff greeted him and directed the nobleman to where the princess was. In the palace's library, Rosalina had her nose stuck in a book, reading about how a siren fell in love with a knight. She sat in a small bay window overlooking the castle gardens and some of the kingdom below. When one of the guards opened the library doors, he cleared his throat to get the princess's attention.

"Pardon me, Your Highness," the guard said, "Lord Ashton is here to see you."

"Send him in." Rosalina said, not looking up from her book.

The guard bowed before stepping to the side to let the heir of House Galileus in. When Ashton saw his girlfriend reading, he chuckled as he approached her.

"Hey, Rosebud," Ashton said, "How've you been?"

"I've been well, Ash," Rosalina said, not looking up, "What about you?"

Ashton quirked a brow as he watched the princess read, not giving him any attention. The nobleman scoffed as he casually plucked the book from his girlfriend's hands.

"Wha-? Ashton, hey!" Rosalina exclaimed, reaching for the book, "I was reading that!"

"So you'd rather devote all of your attention to this book than your own boyfriend?" Ashton teased, "I must say, Your Highness, I'm wounded."

Ashton sighed dramatically as he did his best damsel in distress.

"What were you even reading anyway?" Ashton questioned, looking at the cover, "Making Waves and Changing Tides. Is this another romance story about knights and mermaids again?"

"N-No, it's not." Rosalina retorted, a faint blushing appearing on her cheeks.

Ashton chuckled as he set the book down and sat down next to the princess.

"Come on, Rosebud, it can't be that embarrassing," Ashton said, "I already know you like that stuff; why try to lie about it to me now?"

"S-Shut up!" Rosalina exclaimed, trying to hide her blush.

Ashton laughed and draped an arm over the princess's shoulder.

"Ahh, you love me Rosie Posie," Ashton teased, "And there ain't nothing you can do about it,"

"Ugh, you are so annoying." Rosalina said, feeling a smile creep on her face.

"Me? Annoying? Never."

Rosalina glared playfully at the nobleman and poked his cheek.

"Yes, you are." she said.

"You love me so much it makes you look stupid, but it also makes you look adorable." Ashton teased, poking Rosalina's nose.

Rosalina blushed when the nobleman called her adorable.

"Q-Quiet you..." she said sheepishly.

"Why don't you make me, Your Highness~" Ashton challenged with a chuckle.

As Rosalina glanced at her boyfriend with puffed-up cheeks, an idea came to mind, and a smile formed. Rosalina straightened her posture before standing up and sitting behind the nobleman. Then, she wrapped Ashton in a tight embrace. Ashton chuckled as he placed his hands over hers.

"Is this your way of getting me to shut up, Rosie Posie?" Ashton asked, chuckling.

"No," Rosalina began, positioning her hands, "But this is!"

Without warning, Rosalina started digging into the nobleman's sides, causing Ashton to flinch and chortle.

"Hehehehey! Rosahahaha!" Ashton giggled, "Cut it ohohohout! Hahahahahaa!"

"Nu-uh! You've been a mean little brat this whole time," Rosalina retorted, "And brats like you need to be taught a lesson."

Ashton tried to twist out of the princess's embrace, but he couldn't move; he was trapped.

"Hohohow are yohohohou this strohohohong?" Ashton questioned.

"How are you this weak?" Rosalina retorted.

Ashton tried to swat away his girlfriend's hands, but she easily dodged his hands and continued to tickle the nobleman senseless.

"Rosalinahahahahaha! Hehehehahaha!" Ashton giggled, "Come ohohohohon! Stahahahahap!"

"Are you gonna stop being a brat?" Rosalina asked.

"What dohohohoho you thihihihink?"

Rosalina sighed and rolled her eyes. With a swift movement, she kept one arm wrapped around the nobleman while using her other hand to tickle his armpit. Ashton squealed as he rocked back and forth in the princess's grasp, trying to escape, but he still marveled that his girlfriend was so strong.

"Aaahahahahaa! Rosahahahaha!" Ashton half-whined, "Plehehehehease! Knock it ohohohoff!"

"Y'know, I have to deal with bratty kids all the time, and this is how I keep them in check," Rosalina said, "I guess I need to try harder for you if I want to get my point across."

Ashton tried to dislodge his girlfriend's arm from around his middle, but it was barely budging.

"Rosebuhuhuhuhuhud! Get your hahahahand ohohohout!" Ashton giggled.

"Hmmm... nope," Rosalina said, "It's staying there until you've learned your lesson."

Ashton giggled as he tried to escape the princess's tickle hug.

"Aahahahahaha! Rosahahahaha!" Ashton cried, "Come ohohohon!"

"Are you gonna stop being a brat?" Rosalina asked again.

"Maybehehehehe! If you stohohohop, I'll thihihihihink about ihihihihit!"

Rosalina was surprised that the nobleman could still act like a brat. Rosalina sighed as she pulled her hand out from his armpit and wrapped her other arm around him, embracing him tighter.

"Sehehee? That wahahasn't so hahard, rihihihight?" Ashton questioned with a giggle.

"Who said I was done?" Rosalina asked.

A chill ran down the nobleman's spine. Rosalina then shifted her arms to hug Ashton by his shoulders. Then, Ashton yelped and started laughing. Rosalina giggled as she dug her nails into her boyfriend's shoulder blades, swaying with Ashton's attempts to escape.

"AAAAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEE! ROSAHAHAHAHAA!" Ashton laughed, "NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!"

"Why? Does it tickle, Ashy?" Rosalina questioned, "Does it tickle?"

"WHAHAHAHAT DO YOU THIHIHIHIHINK?!"

"I don't know; you tell me. Tell me, Ashton, does it tickle if I do... this?"

By "this," Rosalina slipped her fingers past the nobleman's collar and started skittering his nails on his shoulder blades and neck, causing Ashton to squeal and reach up to try and pry away his girlfriend's arms and hands.

"YEHEHEHEHES!" Ashton laughed, "YES, IT TIHIHHIHIHICKLE! AAAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Good," Rosalina said, "Maybe this will teach you not to be a brat."

Ashton felt himself grow weaker as he laughed and squirmed in the princess's grip.

"ROSALINAHAHAHAHA! I GIHIHIHIHIVE UHUHUHUHUP!" Ashton laughed, "PLEHEHEHEASE! HEHEHEHAHAHAHA!"

"Are you gonna stop being bratty?" Rosalina asked.

When Ashton didn't answer, Rosalina brought out one of her hands, slipped it under the nobleman's shirt, and spidered her nails all over his side, making Ashton double over and lean back into his girlfriend's lap with a loud laugh.

"YEEHAHAHAHAHA! YEHEHEHEHES!" Ashton cried, "IT TIHIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAD!"

Rosalina giggled as she stared at her boyfriend's happy face with loving eyes. His rosy cheeks, white smile, and adorable laughter made her swoon. When Rosalina stopped the tickling, she kissed the nobleman's lips. Ashton was shocked at first but pulled his girlfriend in closer. When they parted, Ashton sat up and pulled Rosalina into another kiss, which the princess gladly accepted. After they parted, Ashton took a deep breath before leaning back into the princess's lap.

"So, are you gonna promise not to be bratty?" Rosalina asked, playing with the nobleman's hair.

When Ashton hummed in thought, the princess tweaked his side, causing the nobleman to flinch away and chortle.

"Okay, okahahay!" Ashton giggled, "I'll try, but come on, Rosa; you love me when I'm bratty."

"So what if I do?" Rosalina questioned, "Gives me an excuse to tickle you."

The nobleman quirked a brow and sat up, glancing at the princess.

"What did you just say?" Ashton asked, feeling a smirk form.

The princess's eyes widened when she realized what she said.

"O-Oh, uh... nothing." Rosalina said.

"Did you just say it gives you an excuse to tickle me?" Ashton asked.

Rosalina blushed and turned away from her boyfriend's gaze with a nervous giggle. Then, Ashton wrapped his arms tightly around his girlfriend and pulled her into his chest. He chuckled as he leaned closer to her ear.

"You may have restrained me with your magic, but I don't need magic to keep you locked in place, Rosebud." Ashton teased.

Before Rosalina could protest, she squealed and produced bell-like laughter as the nobleman tickled her in retaliation. Tickle hugs sure are deadly, wouldn't you agree?