#skills to thrill was fine but didn’t stand out

[thunderstomm]

I finally finished all 3 Team Hot Wheels movies the other day! Many thoughts.

[angstywaifu]

Underestimated - Bodhi Durran

Request/Prompt: Bodhi and reader get into a fight during challenges because Bodhi underestimates her and she kicks his ass. And he finds it really hot and maybe they end up sleeping together from @fictional-babes-inc

Warnings: sparing/fighting, slightly dominant Bodhi. Masterlist | Support Me

Name after name gets called. Riders pairing up against each other on the mat, all of us trying to prove ourselves. It was the one thing the Rider’s Quadrant never lacked. Competition. We were all trying to be the best, trying to make sure we came out on top while we fought on these mats. Especially with Threshing fast approaching. We all wanted to prove we were the better fighter or take out those we saw as threats. And I loved the thrill of it.

”You look like you’re itching for a challenge.” Garrick teases from next to me.

He knew better than anyone how much I enjoyed being on the mat. Having been in the same foster home we knew each other very well. The only person who knew him better than me was probably Xaden, as they knew each other before the rebellion. My parents were part of the rebellion, but they were as high up and were a later addition to the cause. Meaning I didn’t know a lot of the other marked ones as well as the others.

”You know me too well. It’s been too long since I’ve been on that mat.” I tell him with a smile which he mirrors back.

I’d somehow managed to escape being called up for any challenges last week, meaning it had been almost two weeks since I’d been on the mat for a challenge. I’d missed it.

”Tavis, you’re up.” The professor calls up as he waves Garrick over to an open mat, a Cadet from my year going pale at the sight of Garrick walking over. Good luck kid.

Not long after Garrick walks away, Bodhi slots into his place. Yet again late for challenges. I swear he was never on time.

”Are you ever going to be on time for this?” I tease him, rocking into his shoulder as he playfully shoves me away.

”One day, but don’t hold your breath.” He teases back with a goofy grin.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Don’t worry, I’m not.”

He laughs in response before turning his attention back to the challenges at hand, mine drifting to Garrick who has the first year pinned to the mat already, their face bright red as Garrick cuts off their airflow with his arm. And he wonders why most of my year are afraid of him.

”Y/N and Felix, you’re up.” The professor calls across the room.

As I go to step forward Bodhi grabs my arm. “He’s going to knock you out, don’t.”

I furrow my brow at Bodhi. Due to his lateness to nearly every challenge he’d never actually seen me fight. And honestly the way he questions my ability now hurts. Especially seeing as Xaden had excused me from the training he had allocated to the other marked ones who were lacking in their fighting skills.

”Don’t think I can handle myself?” I challenge as I step towards him, Bodhi swallowing nervously.

”No, I’m sure I can. But…. He’s like triple you’re size.” He says nervously, clearly noting he’s angered me.

Fine, he thinks I can’t handle myself, I’ll prove him wrong.

I turn my head towards the Professor who is looking at us with a furrowed brow, clearly not liking Bodhi’s interruption. “I’d like to challenge Bodhi Durran instead.”

I feel Bodhi’s grasp on my arm slacken. “Y/N, that’s not what I me-”

”Done. On the mat Cadets.”

I free my arm from Bodhi’s grip, walking past a Garrick who laughs and shakes his head as he heads back to our spot. “Have fun Bodhi.”

I hear Bodhi stutter behind me, worry clearly setting in as he follow me to the mat. He wants to underestimate me? Fine. Just be prepared for the consequences. I turn on the mat to face Bodhi, seeing Garrick and Xaden standing where we were moments ago trying to contain their laughter as Bodhi joins me on the mat.

We both settle into a fighting stance and I’m glad to see a determined look to cross Bodhi’s face. He better not go easy on me. And I hope Garrick’s words were enough for him to rethink his approach to me.

Despite him underestimating me, Bodhi is the first to move, lunging forward as he aims a quick jab at my shoulder. I can tell there isn’t much power behind it, clearly testing how I would react and move. I lean back just enough to feel the air rush past me as he missed by a few inches. I watch as his brow twitches with surprise as I sidestep it with ease.

”Nice reflexes.” He praises as we start to circle each other.

I shrug and smirk at him. “Didn’t think you’d be so predictable.”

I watch as he smirks at my words, clearly seeing the challenge I’ve laid out for him. He might be the softer and more docile version of Xaden and Garrick, but deep down he was the same, you just had to find the right buttons to push.

This time he comes at my harder, faster, his strikes becoming more and more calculated. But unlike him, I’d had weeks to study how he fought. Studying his rhythm, the way he shifted his weight around. He steps towards me, throwing a right hook which I’d seen him do before. I duck low, twisting around him before landing a punch in his back.

’See, predictable.” I tease again.

Bodhi turns and smiles at me before charging at me again, feinting left before he aims a kick towards my ribs. I catch his leg mid air and sweep his other foot out from under him, Bodhi hitting the mat with a loud thud, his shocked expression priceless as I stand over him, pinning him to the mat as I press my foot into his shoulder.

”You good down there?” I joke as he squirms under me.

Bodhi just growls in frustration as he shoves my foot off him, rolling back to his feet as he settles back into a fighting stance. He comes at me again faster and sharper, trying to change things up. Just like Felix, Bodhi had size and strength over me. But I could use that to my advantage like I always did. I let him come at me, blocking and dodging till I see the opening I need. I let him come at me, blocking and dodging until I saw the opening I needed. And when it came I didn’t hesitate. A swift strike to his shoulder throwing him off balance, followed by a solid kick to his knee sending him stumbling backwards onto the mat again, his body landing with a loud thud.

”Point proven.” He grunts out as he rubs the pack of his head which had just missed hitting the mat and had landed on the wooden floor.

”You’re not a sore loser, are you?” I ask, holding my hand out to him.

He grasps my hand, pushing off the ground as I pull him up. “Not when the fights this fun,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking to my lips for just a fraction of a second. He catches himself, looking away quickly, but I saw it. Felt the intensity behind his eyes.

I step back, giving him room to breathe, though part of me wants to see what would happen if I didn’t. “Let me know when you’re ready for a rematch.” I say, turning towards the edge of the mat.

”I might need a minute to recover, from all of that.” He calls out to me.

Just before I step back into the crowd I turn and look at Bodhi, a smirking pulling at the corners of my mouth. “That’s a shame, because I don’t.”

Bodhi’s eyes go wide as Garrick chokes on his laughter as Xaden thumps him on the back, barely containing his own laughter. I don’t wait to see what Bodhi does, pushing through the crowd towards the doors.

”Dude, if you don’t go after her I might just do it.” I hear Garrick say from behind me, a muffled ow sounding from behind me that sounds awfully like Garrick as I step through the doors.

I know Bodhi has followed me when I don’t hear the door close behind me, the sound of rushed feet fast approaching me. I barely turn around before his hands grasp my hips, spinning me around as he lifts me up, pinning me to the wall.

My breath catches as my back meets the cold surface, the contrast sharp against the heat radiating from his body. His grip is firm, commanding, but his touch isn’t rough—it’s deliberate.

“Do you ever stop running circles around me?” Bodhi’s voice is low, gravelly, and it sends a shiver down my spine. His eyes lock onto mine, dark and unreadable, and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

“I wasn’t running,” I manage to say, my voice breathless, betraying me. “You’re just slow.”

His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smile, but there’s something softer beneath it, something that makes my pulse race even faster. “Oh, is that how it is?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against my hip, just barely enough to be noticed. “Because from where I’m standing, you’ve been in my head since the moment you walked across that Parapet.

I don’t know if it’s the way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only thing he can see—or the fact that I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, strong and steady despite the chaos between us. All I know is that my walls, the ones I’ve spent years perfecting, feel like they’re crumbling under the weight of this moment.

“You’re in mine too,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them. They hang in the air between us, daring him to make the next move.

His smile fades, replaced by something deeper, more intense. “Say that again,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

I swallow hard, my hands gripping his shoulders for balance—or maybe just to ground myself. “You’re in my head too, Bodhi. And it’s... infuriating.”

He exhales a soft laugh, his lips brushing against my temple as if testing the boundaries. “Good. At least we’re even.”

Before I can respond, he leans in, closing the gap between us, his lips hovering over mine. He hesitates for the briefest moment, his eyes searching mine for permission. And when I don’t pull away—when I tilt my head ever so slightly toward him—it’s all the confirmation he needs.

The kiss is bold, unapologetic, and all-consuming. It’s everything I don’t associate with the Bodhi I’ve come to know. The kind and caring Bodhi everyone sees. It’s not careful or slow—it’s fire and fury, a culmination of every unspoken word, every stolen glance, every moment we’ve danced around this. My hands slide up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if proximity could quench the heat building between us. It doesn’t. If anything, it makes it worse.

When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, he doesn’t let go. His hands stay firmly on my hips, his forehead pressed to mine, his lips ghosting over the corner of my mouth like he’s not ready to let the moment end.

“You drive me insane,” he says softly, his voice rough but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Good,” I reply, a small, breathless smile tugging at my lips. “At least we agree on that."

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit-pt.vi

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi

summary: Sibling fights, pool parties, and drunk college kids. What could go wrong?

word count: 11.4k

warnings: drinking, mentions of drug use, implications of sexual assault (does not happen)

a/n: My plans for this chapter changed a lot from any q&a’s I’ve answered….Thank you for being patient! Hope you enjoy😌 If anyone is in LA or has loved ones there I hope you’re all safe 💜

————

“So what’s his name?”

Hunter turns to you with a raised brow, “Are we really doing this?”

After Aliyah’s suggestion—that was more an order to go to UCLA, you found yourself driving to the acclaimed university. You check the rear view mirror and confirm that the two sisters are knocked out (as it’s now 9pm) before you answer Hunter.

“Well yeah? You know about my Viper situation brewing back there,” you roll your eyes with a laugh quoting his exact words from earlier. “Come onnn!” you whine.

“Oh so you do admit there’s a situation,” Hunter fires back, clearly trying to regain the upper hand. But you hold your ground, unfazed by his teasing—a skill you’ve definitely honed over the course of this road trip. He groans but you can see the blush creeping on his face at the mention of his forbidden lover. “Fine his name is Fielder.”

“Hmm weird name. So you guys dating or is it just sex?” you say getting straight to the point.

“Dude!”

“What! I saw the toothbrush in your bathroom,” you smile. “I’m happy for you man. If you want to be with him or whatever.”

“I-I don’t know," he hesitates. "I really like him, but he’s a Viper and you know what that means."

You glance at him, then take one hand off the wheel to give his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Time to take your own advice, buddy,” you say, your voice steady. “Remember what you told me back then?

‘That’s half the thrill.’

‘When have you ever avoided doing something just because it’s not allowed?’

Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own words of wisdom.”

Hunter exhales, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he mumbles, but you can see the gears turning in his head.

"Dating is different when you get older," he shares after a moment of silence. "You don't really want to mess around with the forbidden just for the fuck of it. It's like the real deal now," he sighs. "Have your fun while you can, because it doesn't last forever."

You take a moment to really absorb Hunter's words. Was he implying that Jenna was just a phase in your life? Something forbidden you were testing out for the thrill of it? You’re almost certain he didn’t mean it that way, but you hate that he planted the thought in your head. Because you knew for a fact that you never saw Jenna as a fleeting moment. An act of rebellion or someone to mess around with.

The thought shakes you, and the weight of your emotions for the girl asleep in the backseat begins to sink in. It terrifies you—realizing just how much she truly means to you.

You weren’t in the mood for a deep, philosophical conversation right now, so you deflected with some light banter instead. “You’re not that much older than me, what—four, five years tops?”

“Eight,” Hunter deadpans, followed by a dry laugh. “And here I am, heading to a college town to party like I’m still eighteen,” he mutters, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"Whoa party? Who said anything about partying?" you ask confused.

"Come on, you can't expect us to go to UCLA for the weekend—mind you exam season just finished. And you don't want us to party?"

"There is possibly a drug cartel hunting us down...and you want to party?"

"Yup," he answers, popping the P with an unbothered grin.

————

"Please tell me we're there," Aliyah yawns, stretching her arms out above her. "I can't stand another moment in this car."

"Technically it's an SUV," you mutter under your breath, earning a tired glare from the backseat. "But yeah, we’re almost there. Where am I headed?"

"Hold on let me text Markus real quick."

Again with that name. Before you could flip your mind over wondering who this guy was, you hear Jenna stir in the backseat, her voice groggy as she asked Aliyah, "how long was I out?"

Okay new obsession: Jenna's tired voice. It made your heart do a little flip.

Hunter looks over at you and he rolls his eyes. Why you still deny the fact that you have feelings for this girl is beyond him. He wanted to smack you across the face and ask you if you thought it was normal to get worked up over someone's sleepy voice. It was evident in the way your eyebrows jumped and the stupid smile on your lips. You obviously had feelings for the girl and everyone but you and Jenna could see it.

"Okay Y/n go to 350 De Neve drive," Aliyah shares upon getting the address.

You still had no idea where you were going, but you give a nod to Hunter to put in the address the girl gave.

Finally, not being able to stand it anymore, you ask the question that's been annoying you for the last two hours. "Who's Markus?"

“Our brother,” Jenna answers, glancing up at the rearview mirror where your eyes have been lingering throughout the whole drive.

Her sleepy voice almost distracted you from what she just said. Oh. That explains a lot. Silly old you getting jealous over nothing. Markus was their damn brother. You smile and nod. "Ahh okay, I see."

"What's with the smile Y/l/n?" Hunter teases you, knowing exactly why.

You don't respond and shoot him a side eye. "So is this a younger or older brother?"

"He's my twin," Aliyah mumbles, her attention stolen by something on her phone.

That didn't answer your question. But you still decide to engage in some small talk with Jenna just because you can, and totally not because you wanted to hear more of her tired voice.

"So are you the youngest Jenna?"

This time, Aliyah takes her eyes off her phone and bursts out laughing.

"Pffft—please! I’m dead!" she howls, clearly finding your question hilarious.

"Am I the youngest?" Jenna bites back, her tired voice now laced with a touch of sass. The combination is absolutely killer, and for a split second, you forget how to breathe. But your brain catches up quickly, and you realize you might have more pressing issues to worry about.

"Have you thought all this time that Aliyah is older than me?" she adds, her eyes narrowing playfully at the rearview mirror.

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. “Wait, what? I—uhh—well, yeah, kind of?” You try to backpedal, feeling your face flush slightly. "I mean, she seems older."

Aliyah bursts into laughter again, practically doubling over in the back seat. "Oh my god, I can't believe you thought that! You really think I'm the older one?"

Jenna shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Nope. I’m their older sister."

Your eyes widen, and you glance over at Jenna, who looks far too small to be the older sibling. “But… you’re so tiny?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jenna raises an eyebrow, her tired eyes turning into what you think is an amused glare. "Excuse me? Tiny?"

You instantly regret your words, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I mean, you’re just… small compared to Aliyah! I thought she was the older one.”

It was now Hunter's turn to place a hand on your shoulder. "Please shut up before she starts ignoring you again."

————

“Marki-poo!” Aliyah coos running towards a guy that stood quite taller than her with dark hair.

It was around half past nine when you all finally arrived at what you now learned to be Markus’ dorm building.

While the sisters reunited with their brother, you and Hunter climbed out of the SUV that was parked on the road, both of you stretching to shake off the stiffness of hours on the freeway. The cool night air was refreshing, but your attention quickly drifted to Markus. As your eyes flicked toward him, you froze mid-stretch.

Holy shit. He was the spitting image of Jenna. Same piercing eyes, same sharp jawline, and even a similar smile. It was uncanny, and for a moment, you felt like the universe was playing some cosmic joke, doubling down on how much one family could mess with your head.

Before you could ruminate further, Markus noticed you and Hunter lingering by the SUV and waved. His grin widened as he called out, “Hey! You must be Y/n and Hunter. Aliyah and Jenna wouldn’t shut up about you guys over text.”

Aliyah rolled her eyes, while Jenna shot him a wide glare.

You blinked, caught off guard by his friendly tone. “Uh, yeah, that’s us,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you walked over.

“I bet you must love the freedom being away from home," Jenna asks out of the blue while she gazes around the campus mindlessly soaking everything in.

Her voice drew your gaze like a magnet, and for a split second, you forgot anyone else was there.

What was going on with you? Why was her voice making you feel all strange? It wasn't like this before, and even if it was you were at least able to hide it.

Hunter cleared his throat, clearly enjoying your inability to stay cool around Jenna.

“So, what’s the plan?” Hunter asked, breaking the tension.

Markus gestured toward the dorm building. “I’ve got room for all of you to crash if you’re staying the night. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but it beats sleeping in the car.”

Aliyah clapped her hands together, grinning. “Perfect! Let’s get inside. I need to pee, and I’m not doing it in some random gas station bathroom.”

As everyone started heading toward the entrance with their packed bags, Jenna fell into step beside you. Her shoulder brushed yours, and even though it was likely unintentional, it sent your heart racing.

“Thanks for bringing us here,” she said quietly, her voice soft but sincere. “I know this whole trip is a lot. But we haven’t seen Markus in forever.”

You glanced at her, momentarily caught off guard by the genuine gratitude in her tone. “It not that bad,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Besides, it’s not like I had much of a choice.”

Jenna smirked, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a way that made your chest tighten. “Fair enough.”

As the group disappeared through the dorm’s entrance, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was far from over—and that Markus wasn’t the only surprise waiting for you at UCLA.

————

"We need to set them up."

The group makes their trek to Markus' dorm, with the twins up at front, Hunter following in the middle, and Jenna and you walking side by side in the back.

Aliyah decides that she needs to take the reigns for this weekend and enlist her brother's help for something that needs to be done.

"Jenna and Y/n?" He asks, turning back to look at you both.

"—Don't look at them!" she snaps slapping her brother on the arm. "You can't make it obvious."

Markus just looks at her dumbfounded.

“Those two are so into each other, it’s painful to watch. They need to just make out already or something! I’m losing my mind over here.”

“Make out?” Markus repeats, his voice incredulous.

“Yes! Or, like, hold hands—anything! I’m sick of the constant eye-fucking!” she whisper-yells, gesturing dramatically.

“Eye-fucking?”

“Yes, Markus, eye-fucking!” Aliyah says, her tone exasperated as if explaining basic math to a toddler. “Now, what can we do to speed this along? How do college kids even date these days?”

"Uhm I don't know...they meet in class, ask for their snap, or they meet at parties—"

"That's it!" Aliyah shrieks in excitement before she quickly clasps her hand over her mouth, worried she was too loud. "Please tell me there's a party going on tonight?"

"Tonight?" Markus whispers back. "Come on sis, don't you think we should let them relax or something? We can figure this out tomorrow."

"Tonight Markus." She repeats sternly. Markus knew better than to defy his persistent sister. He sighs, "Yeah I know of one."

"Perfect!”

————

"Absolutely the fuck not Aliyah! Are you crazy?!"

The group finally made it to the dorm in one piece, and much to your relief, the tuition prices definitely matched the size of the dorms. It seemed like there was enough space for all five of you, and the best part? Markus had no roommate. Score.

After Aliyah rushes in to use the bathroom, you follow suit, eager to freshen up. You can hear a bit of commotion from the room—the sounds of people getting settled in, and some oddly loud talking—but you think nothing of it. That is, until you step out of the bathroom to the unmistakable sound of shouting.

You freeze.

Jenna and Aliyah are going at it, voices raised and words flying in a heated argument. Whatever was happening, it was definitely not a friendly sibling exchange.

"Oh my god," the younger sister drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's just a party, why not?"

You remain at the door, not daring to take a step forward. Your eyes turn to Jenna, waiting for her response. Her eyebrow twitches and she suddenly smiles, but there's no humour behind it. "Why not?"

"Why not, Aliyah?" she responds, her voice dangerously calm. "Why not?"

She takes a step forward, her tone growing colder, sharper.

"Just because—"

Just because what?" Jenna interrupts. "Just because I’m the one who had to step up and pull you out of that mess?"

You notice Aliyah's deameanour slightly falter. Her lips slightly frowning.

"You think I like this shit? You wanna make the same mistakes again, just because you want to go to some stupid college party!" Jenna continues.

You, Markus, and Hunter exchange nervous glances, unsure of when to intervene without getting caught in the crossfire.

"I didn’t ask you to do that for me!" Aliyah finally gets out, her voice rising with defiance.

Jenna’s expression hardens, her words cutting through the air like a knife.

"Yeah, you’re right. You didn’t. But Dad did," Jenna spits the words out, her voice growing more heated with every syllable. "And I had no choice but to put my life on hold and pick up the pieces of your mess. So don’t act like it’s nothing. Don’t you dare act like I’m overreacting, Aliyah. You think I want to keep doing this? You think I want to keep cleaning up after you?"

Holy shit, how much did you miss while in the bathroom? Everything was fine just a few moments ago, how things escalated so fast baffled you.

"Fuck you," Aliyah spits out, her voice trembling as her glossy eyes reflect the anger and hurt beneath the surface. She storms past you, brushing your shoulder, and disappears out of the dorm room before anyone can stop her.

As you’re left standing awkwardly near the door, your eyes instinctively flick to Jenna, who’s still fuming, her chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. She looks like she’s barely holding it together.

But before you can even think about what to do, you notice Hunter and Markus already moving toward her. Hunter places a tentative hand on Jenna’s shoulder, his voice soft as he tries to calm her down. Markus, standing nearby, looks just as lost for words but ready to step in if needed.

Your gaze lingers on Jenna for a moment longer, watching the tension in her jaw and the way she refuses to let her emotions fully break through. Part of you wants to stay, to say something, to comfort her—but it’s clear she’s not alone. Hunter and Markus are already there for her.

The decision was obvious. With a deep breath, you step out into the hallway, following after Aliyah.

You can still hear the muffled voices of Hunter and Markus trying to talk Jenna down as you close the door behind you, leaving the tension of the dorm room behind. But even as you head down the hall, your mind keeps replaying Jenna’s words, the raw emotion in her voice, and the hurt etched into Aliyah’s face.

You sigh, shaking your head. This weekend’s already off to one hell of a start.

————

"Holy shit Aliyah! Slow down would you!" you shout after her as you see her enter the elevator.

You barely make it in time before the doors shut and you're panting while the girl remains silent, as you both wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

Neither of you say anything. She walks on the side walk away from the building and you follow a step behind her. There were other students out at this time, it wasn't too late—only around 10pm now. After some more aimless walking she finally plops down on a bench under a streetlight.

You linger for a moment before cautiously sitting down beside her, keeping a bit of space between you. She says nothing, and for a while, you both just sit there, the faint buzz of campus life in the background.

Finally, you break the silence. "Aliyah… you okay?"

She scoffs, wiping at her eyes quickly. "Do I look okay?" Her voice is sharp, but there’s no real venom behind it.

You don’t answer right away, watching her instead. "No," you admit softly. "You don’t. But… do you want to talk about it?"

You hear her sniffle and you turn to face her. She's wiping her eyes now with a sad smile on her face. "I don't even know why I'm crying, she's not wrong you know?"

"I doubt that's true," you offer gently. "She's just worried of losing you. Or seeing you make choices that could...you know, hurt you," you suggest, recalling the information you heard in the argument earlier.

"She didn’t say anything I didn’t already know. But hearing her say it—it hurts. She didn’t have to throw that in my face."

You nod slowly, understanding dawning. "You mean about the Vipers?"

Her head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing. "She told you?"

"No," you say quickly, raising your hands in defense. "She didn’t. That’s her story to tell, and I guess she’ll tell me when she’s ready. But… it’s not hard to figure out that there’s more to this than just a party."

The crying girl clears her throat before leaning back into the bench. “She could’ve told you. She probably didn’t tell you for my sake.”

You tilt your head confused, giving Aliyah your full attention.

“You’ll have to know this anyways if you’re going to date my sister and shut up I don’t wanna hear it. Let me explain.”

You laugh at her comment. How she knew you’d deny potentially dating her sister. But sensing the seriousness of the topic you zip your lips and listen, waiting for your long awaited questions to be answered.

“I’m sure you’ve gathered by now that Jenna is with the Vipers because of me.”

You softly nod.

“A few years ago,” she sighs recalling the night.

————

Aliyah was buzzing, the world around her a kaleidoscope of music, neon lights, and laughter. The bass thumped through her veins as she swayed to the beat, a red plastic cup in her hand. She wasn’t entirely sure what was in it—something strong, something that burned on the way down. Her "friends" had handed it to her earlier with a wink and a “just try it.”

It wasn’t her first party, but it was her first big one. College kids, flashy cars parked outside, and a house way too nice for a bunch of teenagers to be trashing. Percy had been the one to invite her, his charming smile making it seem like she’d be missing out on the event of the year if she didn’t show up.

“Aliyah!” Percy’s voice cut through the music. She turned, almost stumbling as the alcohol hit her harder than expected. He stood there, grinning, a bottle of something expensive-looking in one hand. “Having fun?”

“Yeah!” she replied, her words slightly slurred.

“Good, good,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder and steering her toward a quieter corner of the house. “Hey, you gotta try this.”

Aliyah blinked at the small pill he held out to her. “What is it?”

“Just something to help you relax,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring. “Everyone’s doing it. No big deal.”

Normally, she would’ve said no. Normally, she wouldn’t have even been at a party like this. But the alcohol dulled her judgment, and Percy’s grin made it seem harmless. She hesitated for only a moment before taking the pill and swallowing it with a sip from her cup.

The next few hours were a blur. Colors seemed brighter, music louder, and her body lighter. She laughed at things that weren’t funny and danced until her legs felt like jelly. At some point, Percy led her upstairs, saying she needed to “rest.” She remembered collapsing onto a plush bed, her head spinning, and Percy’s shadow lingering in the doorway.

When she woke up the next morning, her phone was buzzing with texts from Jenna. But it was Percy’s smirk and the way he casually mentioned “having some footage” of her wild night that made her stomach drop.

“You wouldn’t want your dad seeing this, would you?” he’d said with a mockingly sweet tone.

That night changed everything.

————

"Hold on—did that asshole fucking—" you begin to demand, your voice low but trembling with barely contained fury. Your fists clench instinctively, already mapping out how you were gonna beat Percy's ass.

"No! No," she insists, her voice steadying as she places a hand on your arm, as if to keep you tethered. "Thank God, no. But..." Her gaze drops to the ground, shame flickering across her face. "Turns out it was a Viper party, he had footage of me taking whatever it was he gave me. And—" She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper, "he planted stuff on me too. Drugs. Enough to ruin everything if anyone found out."

The weight of her words sinks in, and your anger twists into something darker—colder. "That slimy, manipulative piece of shit," you mutter, pacing a few steps away before turning back to her. "He set you up."

Aliyah nods, hugging her arms to herself as if trying to shield herself from the memory.

"Sorry if this comes of rather insensitive but rich kid doing drugs doesn't really strike me as a headline. You see that shit everyday. Would it really have ruined everything?"

"My Dad's a dick. He didn't want it effecting his company. And unfortunately in his world it's a big deal." She pauses before continuing, "Percy just wanted leverage. Something to use against Dad." Her voice breaks, and she exhales shakily. "Dad handled it, but..."

"But that’s when Jenna got pulled into this mess," you finish for her, the realization hitting like a freight train.

Aliyah nods again, her eyes glassy. "Yeah. Dad made her join the Vipers to keep an eye on Percy and make sure he kept his word. But it wasn’t just that." She hesitates, biting her lip before continuing. "Jenna found out Percy made her joining the crew part of his deal. Like he wanted to make sure he had control over us both. And Dad said yes without hesitation."

The depth of Percy’s manipulation and the selfishness of the girls' father makes your stomach churn. You no longer felt any guilt for stealing that assholes car.

"And Jenna agreed?" you ask quietly, already knowing the answer.

"She didn’t have a choice," Aliyah whispers, her voice cracking. "Dad wouldn’t let me take the fall, and Jenna...she’s too loyal. She put herself in the line of fire for me."

You sink onto the bench beside her, running a hand through your hair as the weight of it all settles in. "Aliyah...this isn’t your fault," you say softly, though you’re not sure if you’re convincing her or yourself.

"It feels like it is," she murmurs, staring at her hands. "If I hadn’t been so stupid that night—"

"Stop." Your tone is firm but gentle. "Percy’s the one who’s to blame here. He’s the asshole who exploited you and dragged Jenna into this mess. Not you."

She doesn’t respond, but the way her shoulders shake tells you she’s trying to hold back tears. You reach out, hesitating for a moment before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We’ll figure this out, Aliyah. We have the leverage we need. We’ll get Jenna out of this. I promise."

For the first time since the argument, she looks at you, her eyes glistening with vulnerability. "You mean that?"

"More than anything."

The two of you sit in silence after the night’s heavy revelations. It’s not awkward—if anything, it feels like the silence is exactly what you both need. As you sit on the bench, you watch students pass by in the soft glow of the campus lights. Some walk alone, weighed down by heavy backpacks and heavier thoughts. Others are carefree, laughing and chatting with friends, their steps light as air. A few move with quiet confidence, calm and steady.

You wonder, not for the first time, what your life might have been like if you hadn’t been born in Brimstone. Would you have been one of these students? What version of you would have existed here, unburdened by everything that came with your hometown?

“I guess…I can see why your sister was upset,” you say finally, breaking the silence.

Aliyah doesn’t respond right away, but she nods, the motion just visible from the corner of your eye.

“But,” you add with a small smile, “that was two years ago. You deserve another chance.” You turn to her, flashing a grin. “And besides, you’ve got me, Hunter, and Markus watching your back now.” You flex your arms dramatically. “No idea about those two, but nothing gets past me.”

She snorts, a laugh bubbling up despite herself. “Please, put those away. You’re going to embarrass us both.”

Her laughter softens, and when she turns to you, there’s a seriousness in her expression that catches you off guard. “I really hope it works out between you and my sister,” she says quietly.

The words hit you harder than you expect, leaving you momentarily speechless. It’s still complicated—still messy. But something about Aliyah’s vulnerability tonight makes it easier to let the thought cross your mind, even if you can’t voice it aloud.

For now, you settle for the truth that feels safest to admit, even if only to yourself.

I hope so too.

————

You’re greeted by the sight of the Ortega sisters wrapped in a tight embrace near the curb. Their voices are low, but the murmured apologies and soft laughter carry in the quiet night.

Jenna’s voice breaks through, her tone unusually tender. “No, I should’ve given you a chance. I didn’t have to be so mean, Aliyah. I’m sorry.”

Aliyah sniffles, her own voice equally apologetic. “I was wrong too. I should’ve listened to you. You’re just trying to look out for me.”

The rest of you—Hunter, Markus, and yourself—watch the heartwarming spectacle from the bench you were on moments ago with Aliyah. You exchange incredulous looks, eyebrows raised in unison.

“They’re hugging,” you point out, still processing.

“Like…full-on hugging,” Markus adds, as if needing confirmation.

Hunter leans back, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what’s more shocking—the fact that they stopped yelling or that they’re acting like this never happened.”

You snort, shaking your head. It’s kind of funny, really, how quickly they’ve gone from shouting to sobbing on each other’s shoulders. You glance at Hunter and Markus, a knowing thought crossing your mind. Just like your talk with Aliyah, it’s clear they must’ve said something to Jenna. Whatever it was, it worked, and you’re quietly grateful for it.

“They’re like a Netflix drama,” Markus muses. “Big fight in episode nine, full reconciliation by episode ten.”

Hunter chuckles. “They’re efficient, I’ll give them that.”

You smile to yourself, watching the sisters. It’s a relief to see them like this, to see the tension replaced with understanding. For all their differences, their bond is unshakable, and tonight, that’s clearer than ever.

“Efficient’s good,” you remark softly. “We could all use a little more of that.”

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence, still seated on the bench, content to let the moment play out. It’s been a long day, but for the first time in hours, it feels like everything might just turn out okay.

Your thoughts drift as the sisters continue to talk, the quiet laughter between them like the perfect breeze after a tense day. The closest you’ve ever had to something like that is Anton. It’s not quite the same—he isn’t your sibling, not by blood anyway, but he’s always been there, filling that role.

And yet, you and Anton aren’t like Jenna and Aliyah. When you two fight, it doesn’t end with quick apologies or mutual understanding. No, you’ve gone days without speaking. Weeks, even. Your disagreements have never been about anything as heavy as the sisters’ fight tonight, but they’ve been passionate all the same—mostly about the club.

You can still hear Anton’s voice in your head during your last big blow-up a few months ago—long before you met Jenna. “You think you’re above this? You think you’re better than the rest of us?” His words had stung, but so had your response. You’d called him reckless, accused him of not understanding your hesitations about racing, about the club, about everything it represented.

Looking back, you know you were both too stubborn to see the other’s perspective. And while things eventually smoothed over—like they always did—you can’t help but wonder if there’s still some lingering tension under the surface, something neither of you has addressed. And ever since that day he jokingly pulled that gun on you, ironically things have been calm. He probably thinks you're establishing yourself in the crew, and you don't know what to tell him.

Watching the sisters now, you feel a pang of envy. They’ve fought, sure, but they’ve also made their way back to each other in a way that feels effortless. You wonder if you and Anton could ever find that same ease, or if the unspoken disagreements between you will always weigh down your bond.

Hunter nudges you out of your thoughts. “You okay over there?”

You nod, shaking off the memory. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?”

You glance at the sisters, their shared laughter filling the night air. “How nice it must be to make up that fast,” you say simply.

Markus chimes in. “Don’t get too used to it. This is a rare sight.”

You laugh lightly, but the thought lingers. Maybe, just maybe, you and Anton could find that kind of understanding someday.

The sisters finally break their embrace and walk toward you, their expressions a mix of relief and mischief. Aliyah, ever the wildcard, claps her hands together and grins.

“Well, now that we’re done being dramatic, who’s ready to party?”

You glance at Jenna, who offers a small, almost shy smile, and then at Hunter and Markus. Surprisingly, no one objects. After the emotionally charged evening, maybe letting loose doesn’t sound so bad.

“Alright, let’s do it,” Hunter says, standing and stretching his arms.

As you all head back toward the dorm building, Markus throws a casual comment over his shoulder. “Hope you all packed swimsuits.”

The group collectively freezes, exchanging bewildered glances.

“Swimsuits?” Aliyah asks, narrowing her eyes.

Markus turns to smirk at her. “It’s a pool party. Did I not mention that?”

Your brain short-circuits. A pool party? Swimwear? Holy crap. Jenna in a bikini? You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your face turning an embarrassing shade of red.

Oh god, what if she looks over here? you panic internally. Play it cool. Act normal. Breathe.

But the thought of Jenna, all confident and effortlessly beautiful, lounging poolside or—nope, nope, abort mission. You’re pretty sure your gay panic is written all over your face, and you try to busy yourself with looking anywhere but at her.

“Y/n?” Jenna’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

You snap your head toward her, your voice coming out a little too loud. “What? Yes! Pool party! Great idea. Love it.”

Jenna raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your overenthusiasm. “Uh-huh,” she says, her lips quirking into a small smile.

Aliyah gives you a knowing smirk but thankfully doesn’t say anything, and the group continues walking. You tug your shirt over your face, hoping to disappear into it.

————

"Why did you pack so many bikinis?" Jenna asks looking into her sister's duffel bag. 

"I had a feeling that something like this would happen," Aliyah mutters, her full attention on the swim suit she’s holding up in front of her.

The top is a classic triangle style with thin straps that tie around the neck and back, offering a simple yet sultry design. The cups are just enough to leave something to the imagination while perfectly accentuating curves. The bottoms—equally bold.

Jenna's eyes narrow at the sight. "You're wearing that?"

"Nope. You are."

The older Ortega looked at her sister like she just said the most insane words known to man. "What?"

"You heard me. You're wearing it."

Jenna snorts, crossing her arms. "Not in this lifetime."

"Oh, come on!" Aliyah groans, dangling the bikini in front of Jenna like a carrot on a stick. "It’s cute, it’ll look amazing on you, and it’s a pool party. You’ll blend right in."

Jenna glares at her sister, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘blending in’ like wearing half an outfit."

Aliyah rolls her eyes, unbothered. "You’ll thank me when you’re the center of attention. Besides..." She leans in, lowering her voice just enough to add some drama. "I’m pretty sure a certain someone would love to see you in this."

Jenna’s face flushes instantly. She hated that she actually considered wearing it for a second.

She snatches the bikini from Aliyah’s hand and tosses it on the bed before her sister can say another word. "You’re impossible."

Aliyah beams triumphantly. "You'll be thanking me later."

————

Outside, you finish getting dressed, opting for a simple look. You stick with your black sports bra and borrow a pair of pink swim shorts from Hunter, not giving much thought to your outfit. With a casual shrug, you figure it’s good enough.

As you adjust the waistband of the shorts, Hunter glances down at your stomach, his eyes lingering a beat too long on your toned abs. He smirks and quips, "Someone’s definitely gonna appreciate those."

You roll your eyes, ignoring the comment as your face heats up slightly. Pulling on your zip-up hoodie, you tug it closed halfway, hoping to downplay any attention.

Hunter chuckles softly, clearly amused by your reaction.

Before you can retaliate, Markus strolls over, sighing dramatically as he collapses onto the edge of his bed. He looks at you with exaggerated seriousness, steepling his fingers like some kind of TV detective.

"I think, as a brother, I have to do this," Markus begins, his tone solemn but with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I’ve always done this with the guys Aliyah’s been into, so it only feels right to extend the same courtesy for Jenna."

Your stomach drops. Oh no. Is this really happening?

Markus straightens, folding his arms like a dad interrogating his daughter’s date. "What are your intentions with my sister?"

You freeze, blinking at him in horror. "What?"

Hunter chuckles, clearly finding this entire situation hilarious as he leans casually against the wall to watch the show.

"You heard me," Markus presses, his expression still annoyingly serious. "Jenna’s my sister. I need to know you’re not playing games. So, what are your intentions?"

You gulp, the words catching in your throat. You glance at Hunter for backup, but he just shrugs with a grin, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"I…" you start, feeling your face grow hotter by the second. You will yourself to stay calm, refusing to let the teasing get to you. "Jenna’s… she’s important to me. I’m not leading her on, if that’s what you’re worried about."

Markus raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied.

Do you have to admit in this very moment that you maybe kind of like his sister...?

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Look, I don’t really know where we stand right now, but I care about her—a lot. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her."

Markus studies you for a moment longer before breaking into a grin. "Okay, that’s acceptable. For now."

"For now?" you echo, incredulous but Markus is already getting up, stretching like he just completed some monumental task.

"Yeah. Just remember, I’ll be watching." He winks at you before heading back to his side of the room.

"What are we watching?" Aliyah's voice suddenly booms, startling you.

You whip your head around at the speed of lightning, and of course your eyes lock onto Jenna's. Thank god she had the same idea as you and wore a jumper over whatever her swim outfit was so you couldn't tell what she was wearing.

Still, your stomach knots. Shit. Did Jenna hear you talking about her?

"Nothing," you mutter to Aliyah, trying to sound casual, though the heat creeping up your neck says otherwise. "Are we ready to go?"

As you glance back at Jenna, you realize she’s watching you intently. Her gaze lingers a little too long, her head tilted ever so slightly, as if she’s piecing something together. You feel your skin flush under her scrutiny, suddenly hyper-aware of her presence.

Then, just as you think you might combust from the tension, a slow, amused smile breaks across her face. Her eyes flick downward, and you follow her gaze to… oh god. The stupidly bright pink shorts Hunter lent you.

"Nice look," Jenna quips, her voice light and teasing.

Your hands instinctively tug at the hem of your hoodie, trying to shield as much of the shorts as possible. "Yeah, well… they’re functional."

"Functional," she echoes, her grin widening. "Sure."

Aliyah raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. "Alright, lovebirds," she says, rolling her eyes. "Let’s get going before the party’s over."

As the group starts heading out, you walk ahead, desperate to escape Jenna’s knowing smirk. But you can’t help glancing back just once, catching her still smiling at you, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite name.

————

Courtesy of Markus' Uber app, the driver slows to a stop, and you all step out, craning your necks to take in the towering building before you. The sleek glass facade gleams under the city lights, exuding wealth and extravagance.

"Jesus," Hunter breathes, his jaw practically hitting the sidewalk. "Is this a college party or a Kardashian party?"

You find yourself mirroring his wide-eyed expression. "This is… a lot," you mutter.

Markus grins. "Nah, it’s just a kid in my class. He’s cool. His family’s super rich, though."

You nod absently, but the information doesn’t exactly calm your nerves. As you stare at the building, a sudden wave of discomfort washes over you. Will it be obvious that you don’t belong here? The thought crosses your mind and stubbornly lingers, gnawing at the edges of your confidence.

You glance at Hunter, half-expecting him to share your unease, but no—he’s practically bouncing on his toes, his excitement palpable. Of course, he’d thrive in an environment like this.

Before you know it, you’re all piling into the elevator, Aliyah confidently hitting the button for the penthouse. The mirrored walls reflect your group back at you, and you take a steadying breath, trying to shake off the impostor syndrome creeping in.

As the elevator ascends, you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve. You glance down to see Jenna looking up at you, concern etched in her features.

"You okay?" she whispers, her voice soft enough that only you can hear.

You blink, caught off guard. "Huh? Yeah, I’m fine," you reply quickly, though the words feel hollow.

"You’ve been quiet," she presses, her eyes scanning your face. "You were lively during the ride, but now… it’s like you flipped a switch."

Her observation catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. It’s not often someone notices these shifts in you—let alone calls them out.

"I guess I’m just… a little overwhelmed," you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna’s lips curve into a small, understanding smile. "Don’t worry," she says, her hand brushing against yours briefly in reassurance. "You’re with us. You belong here."

Her words hang in the air as the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the penthouse. The doors slide open, revealing a lavish space filled with music, laughter, and an intoxicating air of luxury.

You step out, Jenna’s quiet reassurance still echoing in your mind, and try to believe it.

You barely have time to process the fleeting warmth of Jenna’s hand brushing against yours before a guy—presumably the host—beelines toward your group, a wide, sloppy grin plastered on his face.

“Markus! You made it, bro!” he slurs, his sunglasses tilted crookedly on his nose, a solo cup in each hand. One is filled with something neon green, the other an alarming shade of blue, and neither looks remotely safe to drink. You take him in quickly—barefoot, dripping wet, and leaving a sizable puddle in his wake. The guy clearly just climbed out of the massive pool that stretches across the center of the penthouse and doesn’t seem to care one bit about the water ruining the hardwood floors.

While Markus greets him with a laugh and a hearty handshake, you take the opportunity to glance around. The penthouse is sprawling—easily larger than half the homes on your street combined. The walls are painted a deep, moody purple, accented by dim, neon lighting that shifts colors in rhythm with the heavy bass of the music. The furniture screams luxury, from the sleek leather couches to the glass coffee tables littered with half-empty cups, discarded towels, and the occasional misplaced phone.

The centerpiece of the room, though, is undoubtedly the pool. It’s an indoor marvel, its edges lined with glowing tiles that cast an ethereal blue light across the entire space. The water ripples as people dive in or lounge at the edges, drinks in hand. Some are modestly dressed in one-pieces or board shorts, while others push the limits of decency, their swimwear leaving little to the imagination.

The energy in the room is wild, chaotic, and undeniably alluring. You can’t help but feel a little out of place amidst the atmosphere, but there’s also a strange pull to it—a curiosity about what the night might hold.

As Markus continues his lively conversation with the host, Aliyah nudges your arm, drawing your attention. “Anyone catch your attention?" she wiggles her eyebrows while looking around the penthouse.

Thankfully Jenna didn't hear the question and you don't answer. You glance over at Jenna, who’s taking in the chaos with a cool, unreadable expression. She seems completely at ease, as if she’s seen this kind of thing a hundred times before.

Finally, the host turns his attention to the rest of your group, his bleary eyes landing on Jenna. “And who are you?” he slurs, grinning like every rich boy stereotype rolled into one. He awkwardly stacks one solo cup into the other—both already full of whatever questionable concoctions he’s drinking. The liquid sloshes over the sides and onto the floor, and you can’t help but think, Damn, it’s gonna suck for whoever has to clean this up tomorrow.

He adjusts his crooked sunglasses onto his head with one hand and extends the other toward Jenna, clearly expecting her to shake it. Jenna hesitates, her eyes darting to Aliyah for guidance. Aliyah gives her an encouraging nod, but the simple act seems to weigh on her. Finally, after a moment of visible deliberation, Jenna gives the guy’s hand a quick, perfunctory shake, her expression polite but distant.

The host grins wider, clearly undeterred. “Hope you’ve got a swimsuit under that,” he says with a sloppy wink. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

You stiffen, your jaw clenching as the scene plays out. What the fuck? The guy’s blatant drunkenness is gross enough, but his flirty comment? That’s a whole other level of irritating. You can’t say anything—you don’t have that right—but a twinge of jealousy twists in your chest nonetheless.

Of course something like this was going to happen. How could it not? Jenna was gorgeous, and anyone with eyes could see that. All these drunk college losers were going to shoot their shot, thinking they had a chance with her. The thought makes your blood simmer, but you force yourself to look away, jaw still tight.

Jenna, to her credit, doesn’t react much beyond a slight narrowing of her eyes. She turns back to your group, brushing off the host’s comment as if it were a stray piece of lint on her sleeve.

She turns to look at you and notices the way your jaw is clenched. And she can't help but notice the burning sensation in her chest at the sight. Is this the reaction she had wanted? She should've never let Aliyah get into her head.

"Make her jealous."

Her younger sister had whispered to her before they entered the party.

You breathe out a quiet sigh, your irritation still bubbling under the surface but tempered by the fact that she didn’t seem fazed.

Aliyah nudges you again, her voice low and teasing. “Careful, your face is gonna freeze like that.”

You roll your eyes, the tension easing just slightly. This is fine, you tell yourself. This is just a party.

————

This is not just a party.

The night had started with all five of you sticking together, like a tight-knit squad entering enemy territory. But, predictably, the chaos of the party soon swallowed you up, scattering everyone like confetti. Hunter had found his place in the pool, leading a cannonball competition that echoed with cheers and splashes loud enough to rival the music. Aliyah, ever the social butterfly, was mingling with Markus’ friends—some of whom she seemed to know already, laughing and chatting like this was her natural habitat.

Markus and Jenna claimed a spot poolside, lounging on sleek deck chairs while chatting with a group of partygoers. Probably Markus’ friends, you figured. He looked entirely in his element, gesturing animatedly while Jenna sat beside him, a quiet but magnetic presence.

As for you? Well, you were stationed at the edge of the action, nursing your second cup of the mystery blue fluid. It seemed like the safer option compared to the guy mixing vodka with… was that Mountain Dew? Your self-assigned mission was simple: keep an eye on Aliyah and shoot occasional glances at the girl by the pool.

Okay, maybe more than occasional.

Jenna was wearing a black bikini that was deceptively simple, all clean lines and understated elegance. It wasn’t flashy, but it didn’t need to be. It hugged her in all the right places, the kind of outfit that made her look like she’d walked straight out of a swimwear catalog. You could still feel the lingering heat in your cheeks from when she’d first taken off her jumper.

————

She had casually peeled it off as if it were no big deal—just another layer to shed in the heat of the party. But for you? It was a moment. One second, she was her usual, effortlessly cool self in the oversized jumper, and the next, she was standing there in that bikini, and your brain just… short-circuited.

Your first thought: Oh my god, she’s gorgeous. Your second thought: No, wait, she’s always been gorgeous. Your third thought: Holy crap, I’m staring.

Hunter, of course, had noticed your reaction because he never missed an opportunity to tease. He leaned over with a smirk and whispered, “Careful, you’re gonna burn a hole through her with that look.”

You’d snapped out of it with a flustered, “Shut up,” but it was too late. The damage was done. You were blushing so hard, you were sure your face could have powered the penthouse lights.

————

Now, as you stood there, gripping your cup like a lifeline, your eyes kept drifting back to Jenna. The soft glow from the pool lights made her skin look impossibly smooth, her hair falling over one shoulder in loose waves.

You told yourself to look away—to focus on something, anything else—but it was impossible. She was mesmerizing in a way that made the rest of the party blur into the background.

Your drink was halfway to your lips when you realized you hadn’t blinked in a while. Get it together, you scolded yourself, tearing your gaze away with a sharp breath.

But even as you tried to distract yourself, the truth was unavoidable: Jenna Ortega in a bikini—scratch that. Jenna Ortega was your kryptonite.

————

You can’t take your eyes off her.

You tell yourself it’s because you’re keeping an eye out, making sure no one bothers her, but the truth is, you’re mesmerized. She looks so comfortable, so effortlessly beautiful, and it’s infuriating how easy she makes it all seem.

“Enjoying the view?”

You nearly choke on air and whip your head to the side to see Aliyah standing there, a sly grin on her face.

“I—what?” you stammer, heat rushing to your face.

"I’ve seen you looking over there about fifty times in the last ten minutes."

You stiffened, immediately defensive. "I have not."

Aliyah raised an eyebrow, her smirk betraying just how much she was enjoying this. "Uh-huh. Sure. So, you’re not staring at my sister like she’s the eighth wonder of the world?"

She laughs. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.” She leans in closer, lowering her voice. “But seriously, you need to tell her. How long are you going to keep dancing around? And not like you’re not exactly subtle either.”

You glare at her, but the effect is ruined by the fact that your face is probably as red as the solo cup in your hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” She straightens up, her grin widening.

”Are you drinking tonight?” You ask her, changing the topic but also wanting to know the state of her so you can protect her as needed.

“Nope. It’s a sober night. Don’t worry about me and go get your girl before someone else does,” she urges.

Aliyah added, her tone lighter now, "if you do decide to shoot your shot, maybe don’t wait too long. She’s got options, you know."

You groan, taking another swig from your drink. The thought of Jenna with someone else is burning you.

“Anyway, I’m heading to the pool. Try not to stare too hard.”

She saunters off, leaving you standing there, flustered and annoyed but mostly just embarrassed. You glance back at Jenna, who’s now leaning back on her arms, her head tilted toward the ceiling.

You sigh and take a sip of your drink, the bitterness doing little to distract you from the whirlwind in your chest.

This is not just a party, you think again. This is torture.

————

As you leaned against the railing, sipping on your third drink of the night and trying to push Aliyah's words to the back of your mind, the host stumbled up to you, a wide, sloppy grin plastered across his face. He was holding a vape pen, which he took a long drag from before exhaling a cloud of vapor that smelled faintly of mango.

"Hey, my friennnd!" he slurred, swaying slightly as he leaned in closer than necessary. "You not havin’ a good time or what? You’re just… standing here."

You sighed, already exasperated. "I’m fine, thanks."

He squinted at you like he didn’t believe a word of it, then followed your line of sight toward the pool. His eyes lit up in drunken revelation. "Ahhh! I see what this is!" He laughed loudly and gave you a hearty slap on the back that almost made you spill your drink. "You’ve got eyes for the girl, huh?"

You stiffened, your face heating up. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Sure, sure," he said, waving you off with a laugh. "You’re just standing here, gripping the shit out of that drink, sneaking glances at her like a lovesick puppy because you hate her."

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush him off, but he wasn’t done. "You should go talk to her! Make your move, my dude. Life’s short, and she’s…" He gestured vaguely toward Jenna, nearly knocking himself off balance in the process. "She’s worth it, you know?"

The sincerity in his drunken tone threw you for a loop. You frowned, crossing your arms. "Weren’t you flirting with her earlier?"

He blinked at you, then laughed like you’d just told the funniest joke in the world. "Oh, that? Dude, I flirt with everyone here. It’s, like, my whole thing. Keeps the vibe alive, you know?"

You stared at him, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. "So, what? None of it’s serious?"

He shrugged, leaning heavily against the railing beside you. "Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s not. Most of the time, it’s just… me trying to connect. I mean, isn’t that what we’re all doing? Trying to feel something?"

His words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself looking at him in a new light. Despite his slurred speech and drunken antics, there was something oddly profound about what he’d just said.

"So… what are you trying to feel?" you asked before you could stop yourself.

He let out a long sigh, his grin fading slightly. "Dunno, man. Something real, I guess. You ever feel like you’re just… floating? Like, you’re surrounded by people, but none of it feels solid? So you do stupid stuff—throw parties, flirt with strangers—just to remind yourself you’re alive?"

You stared at him, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability.

This was the last thing you were expecting tonight.

"Yeah," you admitted quietly. "I think I get that."

He looked at you, his expression surprisingly sober for a moment. "Then you get why you shouldn’t waste time. If you feel something—really feel something—you gotta go for it. Otherwise, what’s the point?"

You glanced back toward the pool, where Jenna was laughing at something Markus said, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made your heart stutter.

“And if you don’t wanna take that chance. And want to take the easy way out. I’ll show you how to party,” he smirks gesturing to the end of the drinks table where three girls who you hadn’t noticed earlier were very obviously checking you out.

“I feel like kissing that guy over there,” he randomly announced. “Ciao!”

Maybe the drunk host had a point. And you made your choice.

————

The last month had been an avalanche of unsolicited advice.

Anton had urged you to chase what you want. Your mom stressed staying safe and doing what’s necessary. Hunter and Aliyah kept nudging you to address whatever was going on with Jenna.

And yet, you’d done nothing. Every word of wisdom rolled off you like water off a duck’s back. That’s what made it so damn funny that a drunk party host, of all people, was the one to finally light a fire under you.

Half the room was chasing something—a feeling. The same feeling that teens, young adults, and even grown adults spent their lives chasing. Butterflies, knots, secret glances, the kind of love that makes your heart race and your world slow down. Some people would do anything to find it. Others would do anything to forget it. But not everyone gets it.

What hit you was this: half the room was drowning their emptiness in alcohol, filling voids they didn’t know how to name. You, though? You didn’t have to fill that void. Because you already had what they were searching for.

And that was why, with a newfound determination, you started walking toward Markus, Aliyah, and Jenna by the pool.

You rehearsed what you might say in your head. You doubted you had the guts to blurt out a bold “I like you”—not even after three cups of that mystery blue drink. Sure, the booze helped take the edge off your nerves, but it wasn’t strong enough to make you reckless. Nothing at this party was as potent as Sinner’s jungle juice from back home.

Maybe you’d start small: “You look beautiful tonight.” Yeah, that could work. It was a start.

One way or another, Jenna was going to leave this party knowing how you felt about her.

The closer you got, the more you shook off your nerves. You watched Aliyah, now in the pool and leaning on the edge, whisper something in Jenna’s ear. You didn’t think much of it. The party was deafening, so whispering—or yelling—was the only way anyone could be heard.

But as you closed the gap, you saw Jenna turn her attention from Aliyah to the guy next to her. He was already looking at her, and whatever he’d said made her laugh—a real, full-bodied laugh. She even reached out and playfully slapped his arm.

What the hell?

You tried to brush it off. It was just a party. A nervous habit, maybe. It didn’t mean anything.

But then she did it again. The laugh was softer this time, more intimate. The playful arm slap turned into a lingering touch.

And this time, it wasn’t so easy to dismiss.

Jenna rises onto her tiptoes, leaning closer to the guy beside her. Whatever she whispers in his ear makes him nod, a smug grin stretching across his face. He hoists himself up onto the pool’s ledge with ease, droplets of water glistening on his skin in the dim party lights. Then, extending a hand, he helps Jenna out of the pool as well.

You stand frozen, watching as they make their way around the pool—not toward you, but on the opposite side. Hand in hand, they head for the dance floor.

Your stomach knots. Your feet feel glued to the ground, and you can only stand there, watching in disbelief as they disappear into the crowd.

You could see how the guy takes in the sights of her in that swim suit and it made you seethe with anger.

Aliyah scans the room, her gaze drifting over the pulsating crowd of partygoers. She spots you across the pool, standing stiffly, your eyes locked on Jenna like she’s the only person in the room. The intensity of your stare isn’t lost on her.

Her brow furrows, and she mouths a quiet, “Oh.”

“What’s up?” Markus asks, turning to her with a confused expression.

Aliyah hesitates before answering, her voice low, almost guilty. “I think I messed up.”

Aliyah’s stomach twists as she recalls her own words to Jenna earlier: “Go with the flow; it might cause someone to spring into action.”

Markus turns to her, confused. “What’re you talking about?”

Aliyah nods in your direction. “Look at her.”

Markus follows her gaze and immediately notices you, frozen and visibly fuming, your emotions written all over your face. He lets out a low whistle. “Oof. Yeah, that doesn’t look good.”

Aliyah shakes her head, already looking around. “We need to find Hunter. I don’t see this ending well if we don’t intervene.”

Markus groans, but he’s already following her lead. “Great. Another party, another disaster.”

————

Just minutes ago, you’d felt almost enlightened, convinced you were nothing like the crowd around you—certain you weren’t chasing the same empty void so many here seemed desperate to fill.

But now? Now you felt ridiculous. Pissed. And maybe that mystery blue drink had hit harder than you realized, because suddenly, you were stalking through the crowd, determined to find the host.

He wasn’t hard to spot. Sure enough, he’d achieved his goal, currently locked in a passionate kiss with the guy he’d been eyeing earlier.

Thankfully, he noticed you approaching just in time and broke away, grinning lazily.

You stopped in front of him, your frustration bubbling over. “Show me how to have a good time.”

The host’s grin faltered the moment he registered your expression. For someone as drunk as he was, it was almost impressive how quickly his disappointment flickered across his face. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, as if he’d hoped you wouldn’t end up here, fuming and frustrated.

But he nodded, brushing off the moment with a shrug and an exaggerated stumble in your direction. “Alright, alright,” he slurred, gesturing for you to follow him, leaving the guy he was making out with stranded for your sake. “Come on, let’s fix that mood of yours.”

He weaved his way back toward the drinks table, unsteady on his feet but somehow managing to avoid a complete wipeout. You followed reluctantly, your anger simmering beneath the surface as he gestured toward the end of the drinks table. The trio of girls you hadn’t noticed earlier perked up immediately, their eyes lighting up when they spotted you.

"First, we need to get you absolutely zonked!” the host cheers, thrusting a cup of that ominous green liquid into your hand.

You hesitate, staring at the swirling contents as if they might hold all the answers—or at least some of the regrets you’d rather avoid. Still, you take a sip, and the potent concoction hits you almost immediately. It’s stronger than the blue drink, and you know one thing for sure, you don’t want to get so wasted that you do something irreparably stupid at a party full of strangers. One drink, you decide. That’s your limit.

The host, however, is in full swing. “Alright! Step one done. Now, we find you a girl. The goal’s to make your gal jealous, right?”

You don’t say anything, your silence speaking volumes. He glances back at the dance floor, where Jenna’s still twirling and laughing with the guy. “Yeah, I’ll take that as a yes. She’s dancing with him, so we’re gonna play the same game. Cool?”

Guilt creeps up your spine, making your stomach churn more than the drink. You overthink everything. What would Jenna think? Would this make things worse?

The host seems to sense your hesitation. He snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Hey, stop thinking. You wanted to party, right? This is partying. Just dance and vibe—no strings attached. And bonus, she’ll notice. Maybe even pull a move herself. Cool?”

You still don’t answer, but he barrels on regardless, scanning the room with surprising clarity for someone who’s barely standing upright. His gaze lands on a girl across the room, sipping a drink and watching you with an air of quiet confidence. “I say you go for her,” he says, nodding toward her. “She’s not as desperate as those three over there practically undressing you with their eyes.” He gestures to the trio at the end of the table, but your attention is already locked on the girl he pointed out.

She’s gorgeous. Her sleek black hair falls effortlessly over her shoulders, catching the dim lights in a way that feels almost cinematic. Her lips, painted a deep red, curve into a subtle smirk as her dark hazel, almond-shaped eyes fixate on you. Those eyes… they’re hypnotic, pulling you in like she already knows the effect she’s having on you.

And then she does it—the sticky eyes trick. She looks at you, holds your gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then glances away like she’s already won. It’s deliberate, it’s calculated, and it’s working.

“She’s doing it on purpose,” the host mutters, nudging you forward. “That’s your cue, my friend.”

Your feet move before your brain catches up, guilt and hesitation drowned out by whatever magnetic pull this girl has on you. As you approach, she tilts her head slightly, a single brow arching in challenge. The smirk deepens, and she takes a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours now. It’s like she’s daring you to come closer, daring you to make the first move.

And you do.

It all happened so fast. One moment, you were walking across the room, drawn in by her magnetic gaze, and the next, you were standing in front of her. Barely any words were exchanged—just a coy smile and a simple, “Hey, I’m Sofia. Wanna dance?” Before you could even think, you nodded, and now here you are—another pair of bodies swaying in the pulsating rhythm of the music, like the rest of the world had melted away.

Her arms rest comfortably around your shoulders, her touch warm and intimate as if you’ve done this a million times before. Your hands find their place naturally at her waist, and the two of you move in perfect sync, every beat of the music mirrored in your steps. It’s effortless—the way her body follows yours, the way your energy bounces off hers.

But every few seconds, your eyes betray you, glancing over your shoulder to see what Jenna’s up to. And there she is, still dancing with that guy, laughing at something he’s said, her head tilting back just enough to make your stomach twist.

Sofia’s voice pulls you back. “Hmm, are we making that girl jealous?” she teases, her tone light but sharp enough to cut through the haze of your thoughts.

“Maybe,” you admit cautiously, the word barely audible over the music. You brace yourself, worried she’ll be offended that you’re using her for this. But instead, she smirks, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.

“Well,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a playful grin, “we’ll have to do a better job than this.” Without hesitation, she steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. Her body presses softly against yours, her movements slower, more deliberate, the intimacy cranked up just enough to make your pulse quicken.

“She an ex?” Sofia whispers, her breath warm against your ear. The words come out smooth, sultry—designed to sound just loud enough for you to hear.

“No,” you reply, your voice catching slightly. “We’re just... friends?”

Sofia throws her head back, laughing dramatically, the sound exaggerated and almost theatrical. It’s over the top, no doubt meant to draw attention. Jenna’s attention. You’re sure she’s watching now, though you don’t dare look back. Instead, you commit fully to the bit, letting the drinks loosen your inhibitions. The music thrums in your chest, your body moving like the college kid you are—reckless, carefree, and untethered.

For the first time tonight, you let yourself stop thinking. You dance like no one’s watching—though deep down, you know someone is.

————

Hunter, Aliyah, and Markus watched the scene unfold like an audience to the world’s most chaotic soap opera. Their expressions ranged from shock to amusement, with Hunter’s jaw practically on the floor.

“What the fuck did I miss?” he asked, eyes darting between you and your dance partner and Jenna and hers.

“I told Jenna to make Y/n jealous,” Aliyah admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. “And now Y/n is retaliating.”

Hunter let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “This is so not like Y/n, but I kinda like it. That girl is cute.”

Aliyah shot him a sharp glare. “Excuse me? Aren’t we rooting for Jenna and Y/n?”

Hunter snickered. “We are, but relax. This is just the pre-show. They’ll have makeup sex and get over it.”

Aliyah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Seriously? Makeup sex? They—"

Hunter smirked. “Yeah, makeup sex. You know, when they—”

Markus laughs at Hunter’s response.

“I know what it is, weirdo,” Aliyah snapped. “But they’re not there yet. They haven’t even admitted they like each other yet! They need to stop being stubborn and actually talk!”

Hunter leaned back, crossing his arms confidently. “It’ll happen. Look at them—they’re both trying to make each other jealous. This is just foreplay. They’ll be fine as long as neither of them crosses the line. Dancing? Fine. Kissing? That could screw everything up.”

Their attention snapped back to the dance floor as Jenna, spotting you with Sofia, retaliated. She moved even closer to her partner, her hands trailing over his shoulders, their movements far more intimate now.

“Oh no,” Aliyah muttered.

“Oh yes,” Hunter said, grinning. “Now it’s getting good.”

The group leaned forward, watching as you noticed Jenna’s escalation. Without missing a beat, you responded. Sofia seemed to catch on quickly, her body now pressed firmly against yours as you matched Jenna’s energy. The two of you danced as if the rest of the world had disappeared, exchanging subtle glances that grew bolder with every passing moment.

It was a game of one-upmanship now. Jenna would sway closer to her partner, and you’d mirror her, pulling Sofia even closer. Jenna’s hands would glide down her partner’s arms, and Sofia would follow suit with you. Back and forth it went, escalating with each move, the tension between you and Jenna palpable even from across the room.

“Holy shit,” Hunter muttered, his grin widening. “They’re not even pretending anymore.”

“They’re literally staring each other down,” Markus added, incredulous.

It was true. Neither of you was hiding the fact that this was all about the other. Your eyes locked with Jenna’s, an unspoken challenge passing between you as your bodies moved in sync with your respective partners. The music thumped, the crowd blurred, but all that mattered was who would break first.

Sofia's hands slid up your arms and found their way to your shoulders as you danced, her movements effortlessly in sync with yours. Her body pressed closer, her breath warm against your neck, and her fingers trailed lightly down your chest to your exposed abs, pausing there just long enough to send a shiver through you.

You felt her touch, soft but deliberate, and couldn't help but glance over your shoulder.

Jenna was watching.

Her gaze wasn't subtle—it lingered, her lips tightening as her eyes followed Sofia's hands on you. The guy she was dancing with had his hands on her waist, pulling her closer, but Jenna's attention wasn't on him at all. It was on you, her expression a mix of irritation and something else you couldn't quite place.

Then, suddenly, you froze. Breaking away from Sofia.

“What’s happening?” Aliyah whispered, her voice tight with worry.

The trio followed your gaze back to Jenna. She was standing on her tiptoes, leaning in toward her partner, her face inches from his. Her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to—

“Oh no,” Aliyah breathed, clutching Markus’s arm.

The three of them stared, holding their breath, as the moment stretched into eternity.

Taglist: @godamnityess @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88

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[mya-valentine]

Frozen Shadows, Burning Desires

Synopsis: Harbinger Innamorati, ranked second among the Fatui, is tasked with a deadly mission alongside Il Capitano. As they prepare for battle under the Tsaritsa's orders, Innamorati's dangerous attraction to Capitano ignites. Despite his stoic demeanor and her playful provocations, their partnership teeters between discipline and desire. With her power to create illusions and his unmatched combat prowess, the battlefield will test not just their skills, but the simmering tension between them.

The icy halls of the Zapolyarny Palace were eerily silent as Innamorati strode through them, her black cloak billowing behind her like a shadow in the dim torchlight. The ornate architecture reflected the cold, unforgiving nature of the nation it represented. The Fatui headquarters was a place of intrigue, power, and dread, but none of that intimidated Innamorati. She thrived here, among killers and manipulators, soldiers and assassins. After all, she was one of them—a Harbinger.

As she made her way through the palace, her mind was abuzz with the news she had received. The Tsaritsa herself had summoned her and Il Capitano for a joint mission. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of being sent into battle alongside Capitano once more. It was rare for them to be paired, despite their titles as Harbingers, but when they were… it was exhilarating. Capitano commanded with a silent, deadly authority that never failed to stir something deep within her—a hunger, a desire to serve him, fight for him, please him.

A wicked smile spread across her lips as she approached her subordinates, who were assembled and awaiting orders. They stood stiffly in the grand corridor, soldiers loyal to her and her alone, all wearing the signature masks and dark uniforms of the Fatui. But none of them mattered—not right now.

“Captain,” one of her lieutenants addressed her, standing at attention. “Are we moving out?”

“Indeed, we are,” she replied smoothly, her voice dripping with anticipation. “The Tsaritsa has requested my presence on a mission alongside Il Capitano.” She let the name roll off her tongue, savoring the power it carried. “We are to rendezvous with him and his forces. Prepare yourselves.”

Her subordinates saluted, but Innamorati barely paid them any attention. Her thoughts were already racing ahead, imagining the moment she would see Capitano again. The way he would take charge, his powerful frame towering over the others, that unyielding presence of his that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Without waiting for further questions, Innamorati led her group through the labyrinthine halls, her pace quick and eager. The excitement thrummed through her veins as they marched toward the meeting point where Capitano and his forces were stationed. Her heart raced, not from anxiety but from the thrill of what was to come. Missions with Capitano always left her breathless—not just from the intensity of the battles, but from the intensity of him.

When they finally reached the grand courtyard, her eyes were immediately drawn to him. Capitano stood at the center, a silent pillar of authority amidst a gathering of his soldiers. His imposing figure was clad in his heavy armor, and the black, expressionless mask covered his face as always. His greatsword, as tall as he was, rested against his back, a testament to the strength he possessed. Around him, his soldiers stood in disciplined rows, awaiting orders.

Innamorati’s lips curved into a smirk as she and her forces approached. She took her place beside Capitano, her eyes never leaving him. He didn’t turn to acknowledge her immediately, but that was fine. He didn’t need to. Just being near him was enough to send a thrill down her spine.

“Innamorati,” Capitano finally said, his voice deep and authoritative. “You’re punctual.”

“Always, Capitano,” she purred, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Her tone was playful, almost teasing, but there was no question that she took the mission seriously. She always did when it came to him.

He nodded curtly, turning his attention to the soldiers gathered before them. The weight of his presence commanded respect, and the courtyard fell silent as he began to speak.

“The Tsaritsa has tasked us with an assault on a target of significant importance,” he began, his voice steady and unrelenting. “A fortified enemy stronghold to the west has been interfering with our operations. Our mission is to eradicate the opposition, retrieve vital intelligence, and leave no survivors. There will be no retreat. We strike hard, and we strike swiftly.”

As he spoke, Innamorati’s eyes roamed over him, taking in every detail of his form. She loved how he commanded a room, how his mere presence demanded obedience without so much as a raised voice. He was the epitome of strength, and she could barely contain the smirk that tugged at her lips as she thought about how much she adored watching him take the lead. There was something so attractive about it—the way he embodied control, the way he never wavered or hesitated. Her mind wandered as she imagined him outside of battle, taking charge in other… situations.

“Your forces will flank the eastern gate, Innamorati,” Capitano said, pulling her from her thoughts. “You will create a diversion to draw their forces away while my soldiers storm the front.”

“Understood,” she replied, her voice velvet-smooth. But as she looked at him, her smirk deepened. “I’ll make sure to put on a good show for you, Capitano.” She couldn’t resist the flirtation that slipped into her tone, the way her words dripped with double meaning. She leaned in slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I know how much you enjoy watching me work.”

Capitano paused, his faceless mask turning toward her. For a moment, there was silence between them, thick with unspoken tension. The soldiers around them remained oblivious, too focused on their preparations to notice the subtle exchange.

“Innamorati,” Capitano said, his voice carrying a hint of warning. “Focus. This is not the time for games.”

Her smile only grew wider, and she cocked her head to the side, unfazed by his stern tone. “Who said I was playing?” Her voice was a soft purr, the words laced with suggestive undertones. She reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm as she leaned in ever so slightly. “I’m always focused when it comes to you.”

The touch was brief, barely more than a graze, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken. She loved pushing him, testing his boundaries, seeing how far she could go before he would react. And though Capitano was always composed, always the stoic leader, she could sense the tension in him—just a flicker, but it was there.

“Innamorati.” His voice was firmer this time, and he straightened, pulling back just enough to remind her of her place. “Do not let your distractions interfere with the mission.”

She chuckled softly, unfazed by his reprimand. “I could never be distracted when you’re around, my Captain.” She winked at him, her smirk playful, as though daring him to scold her further.

Capitano said nothing in return, his mask concealing whatever expression might have crossed his face—if there was one at all. After a moment, he turned away from her, addressing the soldiers once more. The briefing continued, but Innamorati’s attention never wavered from him.

Even when scolding her, he was captivating. He didn’t need to shout or threaten—his authority was absolute, and that only made her want him more. The way he commanded respect, the way his voice alone could silence a room, the way he looked so damn strong, even in stillness—it was intoxicating.

As the debriefing came to an end, Capitano gave one final order to his troops. “We move at dawn. Prepare yourselves.”

The soldiers saluted and dispersed, leaving the two Harbingers alone for a brief moment. Innamorati’s gaze lingered on him as she watched the soldiers file out of the courtyard. Once they were alone, she took a step closer to Capitano, her voice low and teasing.

“Are you upset with me, Capitano?” she asked, her tone laced with mock innocence. “I thought you’d be used to my antics by now.”

He turned his head slightly, his mask obscuring his expression. “You are insubordinate at times, Innamorati,” he said, though there was no real heat in his voice. “One day, it will cost you.”

She smiled wickedly, unbothered by his words. “Oh, I doubt that. I know how to get what I want.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “And you like it when I misbehave, don’t you?”

For a moment, there was only silence between them, and she could feel the weight of his gaze behind the mask. Then, without a word, Capitano turned and began to walk away, his cloak billowing behind him as he headed toward the exit.

Innamorati’s smirk widened as she watched him go. “Until tomorrow, Capitano,” she called after him, her voice dripping with amusement.

She knew that she had pushed him, perhaps more than she should have, but that was the game they played. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. As she turned to prepare her own troops for the mission ahead, her thoughts were already racing with anticipation. The battle tomorrow would be glorious—and so would being at his side, watching him lead, watching him command.

Her heart raced at the thought, and she couldn’t wait for the sun to rise.

---

The battlefield was a symphony of chaos. The harsh clashing of metal, the grunts of struggling soldiers, and the distinct cries of the injured filled the air. Blood soaked into the cracked earth beneath the boots of the Fatui army as they surged forward in a relentless assault. At the center of it all was Il Capitano, the faceless colossus of sheer brute strength, cutting down any who dared stand in his path.

Beside him, like a shadow of elegance and cruelty, was Innamorati. She moved through the fray with a sadistic grace, her eyes never leaving Capitano as he fought, his sheer presence making her pulse quicken. Innamorati thrived in the chaos, a deadly predator who craved nothing more than to please her Captain. She was the twisted embodiment of love, and her loyalty to him was unwavering.

Her illusions flickered around her, barely visible at first, before solidifying into facsimiles of herself. One by one, they scattered across the battlefield, perfect doubles that fought in unison with her real form. In the blink of an eye, a nearby enemy lunged at one of the illusions, only to pass right through it and stagger, disoriented. With a smirk, the real Innamorati slipped behind him, and with a swift flick of her wrist, her dagger found its home in his back. The illusion shattered around him like glass, fragments of false reality dissolving into the air. She barely gave the fallen soldier a second glance, her attention fixed on Capitano.

He was magnificent. Towering over friend and foe alike, Capitano wielded his greatsword like it weighed nothing. The sheer force of his strikes left shockwaves in their wake, sending enemies reeling. There was something primal about the way he fought—every movement efficient, deliberate, and devastating. He was a walking force of destruction, and it made her heart race.

Innamorati licked her lips, her smile growing wider as she saw another group of enemies make the foolish decision to charge toward him. She could have warned them, but what was the fun in that? Watching them break against Capitano's might was entertainment in itself.

She twirled her dagger playfully, the gleaming blade catching the blood-red light of the setting sun. Then, in a fluid movement, she created another illusion—this time of a massive stone wall blocking the path of the soldiers rushing toward Capitano. Confused, they skidded to a halt, eyes wide as they tried to understand how such a wall could appear out of nowhere. Capitano didn’t even glance at the illusion. He knew her tricks well.

In a heartbeat, she dispelled the illusion, and the soldiers were exposed once more, stunned by the sudden disappearance of the obstacle. That was all Capitano needed. He cut through them with one swing, and their bodies fell to the ground in broken heaps.

Innamorati couldn’t help the small shudder of pleasure that rippled through her. Archons, he's incredible.

“You’re making it too easy for me,” came Capitano’s deep, unyielding voice, slightly muffled by his mask but still powerful enough to make her knees weak. There was no playfulness in his tone, no flirtation—it was the voice of a warrior, focused solely on the battle ahead.

“Oh, Capitano,” she drawled, her voice dripping with amusement and seduction. She wiped a speck of blood from her lips with a languid swipe of her thumb. “I could never let anyone lay a hand on you. It would break my heart.”

She darted closer to him, ducking under an enemy spear and slicing the man’s throat in one graceful motion. Another illusion took her place, momentarily drawing fire from the archers on the ridge as she slipped through the chaos toward Capitano's side.

“You look so… commanding today.” Her voice was a low, suggestive purr as she pressed closer, almost intimate, despite the battlefield raging around them. She blocked another strike aimed at his side with her blade, twisting the weapon out of the attacker’s hands and driving her dagger into his chest. As the man gasped and crumpled, her smile grew. “It’s very attractive.”

Capitano didn’t falter, though she could sense the faintest tension in the way his hand tightened around his sword hilt. “Focus, Innamorati. We are not done here.”

Her laughter rang out, clear and melodic amidst the battle. “Oh, I am focused. Focused on you.” Her voice dropped, the playful tease in her words unmistakable. “You’re the only thing I see, Capitano.”

He said nothing in return, but she didn’t need him to. His silence was its own form of approval, and she thrived on it. The louder the battlefield became, the closer she danced to the edge of danger, knowing that no matter what happened, her Captain was there—watching, commanding, untouchable.

A spear came toward her, and in a flash, she raised her hand, summoning an illusionary double to take the hit. The soldier thrust the spear through what he thought was her chest, only to realize too late that it was a mirage. As he blinked in confusion, the illusion shattered into a cascade of glass-like shards, and she slipped behind him, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “You really thought you could touch me?”

The dagger slid between his ribs with lethal precision, and she smiled as she pulled it free.

Her heart raced, not from the fight, but from the sheer thrill of being by Capitano’s side. She relished the feeling, the surge of adrenaline that came from protecting him, from serving him. She would kill anyone who dared to come near him—without hesitation, without mercy.

Capitano cut down another wave of enemies, and for a moment, there was a brief lull in the battle. He turned his masked face toward her, his dark presence towering over her, cold and commanding. Even through the mask, she could feel the weight of his gaze.

“You’re enjoying yourself too much,” he said, his voice steady, but there was a hint of something deeper beneath the surface—something only she could recognize after years at his side.

Innamorati smirked, taking a step closer to him. “Can you blame me? Watching you fight, Capitano… it does something to me.” Her hand lightly grazed his arm, fingers teasing the fabric of his cloak as her eyes glittered with mischief. “The way you take charge, the way you command the battlefield—it’s almost too much for me to handle.”

Capitano was silent for a moment, the air between them thick with tension. Then, with a swift motion, he swung his sword downward, cleaving through a fallen enemy that had been trying to crawl away. “You will handle it,” he replied, his voice as unyielding as ever.

Innamorati’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “As you command, my Captain.” She spun on her heel, illusions swirling around her like a dance of death, her movements graceful and precise. The glass-like shards of her illusions glittered in the air as she moved, dispatching enemies with lethal efficiency.

But no matter how much blood she spilled, no matter how many illusions she shattered, her thoughts always circled back to him. Capitano. The man she adored, the man she would do anything for.

As the last of the enemy forces began to retreat, Innamorati stood amidst the bodies, breathing heavily from the exertion. She wiped the blood from her blade and turned to Capitano, her eyes gleaming with unrestrained admiration.

“I’m all yours now,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper. “Shall we finish this together?”

Capitano stepped toward her, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over her. He didn’t respond verbally, but he didn’t need to. In that brief moment of silence, she knew. She belonged to him—heart, body, and soul.

With one final glance at the retreating enemy forces, Capitano nodded, his hand resting briefly on her lower back before he turned and began walking toward the next battle.

And with a sly, knowing smile, Innamorati followed her Captain into the fray, her heart full of love, devotion, and an insatiable desire to please him.

After all, she was The Lover—and for Capitano, there was nothing she wouldn’t do.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[oldsoul007]

snowed in

nicholas chavez x reader

summary: y/n gets body slammed by a handsome stranger and he owes her one

a/n: kissing

It was one of those rare, perfect winter days—crisp air, bright sunshine, and a fresh layer of snow coating the mountain like powdered sugar. I had always loved Giant Steps. The freedom of the slopes, the rush of the wind in my face, the sound of my board carving through fresh powder—it was my escape.

Today, I was pushing herself. The Black Diamond run was calling me, and I was determined to master it. I took a deep breath as I clicked my boots into my snowboard and glanced at the trail ahead, feeling the anticipation in my chest.

But the mountain, as it always does, had a way of surprising me.

I zipped down the moderate slope with ease, feeling the rhythm of the turns, my body moving almost instinctively as I weaved between trees and rocks. I was focused, lost in the flow of the snow, until suddenly, the world tilted. A jarring impact slammed into me, sending me flying through the air and crashing to the ground with a thud. My board spun off to the side, and the world was a blur of snow and sky.

For a second, everything was still. Then, a voice broke through the haze of confusion.

“Oh my God, are you okay?!”

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision. I pushed myself up onto her elbows, groaning as I sat up. Her head throbbed a little, and there was a cold patch of snow down the back of my neck, but I was mostly okay. I looked up and saw a guy standing there, his helmet askew, clearly just as disoriented as I was. He was tall, with wide eyes and a slightly panicked expression on his face.

“Did you just—” I began, only to realize what had happened.

He had barreled straight into me. I hadn’t even seen him coming.

“I am so sorry,” he said, rushing over to me. He held out his hand, but his voice was full of genuine concern. “I didn’t see you. Are you hurt?”

I hesitated for a second, then took his hand, letting him help me up. My legs wobbled slightly, but I was fine. A little shaken, but no real damage done.

“I’m okay,” I said, dusting snow off my jacket. I looked at him, trying to hide my amusement. “But you—how the hell did you not see me?”

He winced, an embarrassed grin creeping across his face. “It’s my first time on this trail, and I might have underestimated the speed.”

“Clearly,” I teased, inspecting him as he straightened up. He looked like the kind of guy who was a little too confident on a snowboard for someone who just ran into people on the slopes. “You look like you’ve taken a few spills yourself.”

He laughed, his face flushed from the cold and the adrenaline. “Yeah, well, if I’m being honest, I’ve been focusing more on speed than, you know… avoiding people.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his self-deprecating humor. “Well, next time, try to aim for the trees, not the snowboarders.”

He chuckled, clearly relieved that I wasn’t angry. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m Nicholas, by the way. And you are…?”

“Y/n,” I replied, still brushing off snow. “And just so we’re clear, I’m not mad. But I’m definitely not going to let you off easy either.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I took off, carving my way down the slope. The cold wind whipped through me, and the thrill of it sent an adrenaline rush through my veins. Nicholas shortly following behind, he wasn’t just fast—he was skilled, weaving effortlessly between the trees and pushing hard on the turns. But I had the edge. I knew this slope better, and my experience let me maintain a smooth, controlled speed.

As we neared the bottom, both were neck and neck, with only a few hundred feet between us and the bottom. The tension was thick in the air, and for a second, it felt like everything had slowed down. I could hear the rush of Nicholas’s board behind me, feel the weight of the competition, and I pushed harder, determined not to let him win.

But then, just as we neared the final stretch, Nicholas made a risky move—he tried to cut inside and take a sharper angle to overtake me.

It was a mistake.

Me, seeing the move coming, did the opposite—I leaned into the curve, taking a wider, more controlled path. As Nicholas’s edge caught the snow, he lost his balance and tumbled sideways, landing with a loud whoosh of snow.

I skidded to a stop at the bottom of the slope, heart pounding with the thrill of the race. I turned to see Nicholas struggling to get back up, his snowboard sideways on the snow. I couldn’t help but laugh, both at the absurdity of the moment and at how ridiculous he looked.

“Looks like I won,” I called out, grinning from ear to ear.

Nicholas stood up slowly, brushing off his board and shaking his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “I wasn’t aware we were racing. I should’ve known better than to challenge a pro.”

I laughed, my chest still warm from the race. “You’re not bad, for someone who almost took me out earlier.”

Nicholas walked over to me, shaking his head with a mock sigh. “I’ll get you next time. I’ll just have to practice not running into people first.”

“That’s probably a good place to start,” I teased, but there was something about the way he looked at me—genuine, easy, and sincere—that made my heart do a little flip.

“Well, if I’m going to keep up with you, I might need some more lessons,” Nicholas said, his tone light, but there was a hint of something more behind his words.

I smiled. “I could give you a few pointers…? You know, as a reward for not crashing into me again?”

Nicholas grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Deal. But I’m picking the spot next time.”

I laughed, feeling that familiar warmth spread through my chest. As we walked toward the lodge together, it wasn’t just the cold air that made my cheeks flush—it was something about Nicholas, something easy and effortless between us, like we had always been destined to meet on this snow-covered mountain.

And maybe, just maybe, this would be the beginning of something much more than a race to the bottom.

After the unintentional body slam on the slopes, Nicholas couldn’t shake the feeling that he owed me more than just a simple apology. The crash had been epic, and while we both had laughed about it afterward, he knew it wasn’t just a funny story—it was a moment that had probably left me with more than just a bruised ego.

“Alright, I think I owe you more than just an apology,” Nicholas said, his voice warm with a hint of playfulness as they trudged off the slope. “Dinner at the resort. My treat.”

I was brushing snow off her jacket and shaking my head with a smile, raised an eyebrow. “Is that how you apologize? Body slam someone, then feed them?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Only if I really like them,” he said, his tone light but sincere.

We made our way to the lodge, the heavy snow falling softly around us, the warmth of the resort a welcome contrast to the cold mountain air. Inside, the restaurant was cozy, lit with flickering candles and the hum of quiet chatter from other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after a long day on the slopes.

This time, though, as we slid into a booth, Nicholas did something he hadn’t done earlier. He removed his helmet, revealing his face for the first time. I hadn’t realized just how much of his appearance had been hidden beneath it. There was something striking about him—sharp features, tousled brown hair, and those deep, brown eyes. A subtle but genuine warmth radiated from him, and it made me wonder why he’d kept himself so closed off earlier, always staying behind the safety of the helmet and his quiet demeanor.

My gaze lingered for a moment, taking him in, before I caught myself. Nicholas, noticing the way I was looking at him, smirked. “Don’t tell me the body slam left you speechless,” he teased, though there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “No, I just didn’t realize you were hiding a face under that helmet.” I gestured toward his messy hair with a grin. “It’s a pleasant surprise, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat. “Just wait until you get to know me better. I’m full of surprises.” There was a certain confidence in his voice now, a comfort that hadn’t been there earlier when we were on the slopes.

The night unfolded with easy conversation. We talked about everything and nothing—how the snowboarding season was going, favorite spots to visit, even which lifts were the least crowded on the mountain. It was refreshing, the way the awkwardness from earlier had melted away, leaving space for genuine connection.

For a moment, I realized that what had started as an embarrassing accident was turning into something unexpectedly pleasant. He was charming, funny, and there was something about him that was easy to like once I saw past the helmet and the casual bravado. By the time dessert came, with chocolate mousse and a shared slice of pie, I realized that the night wasn’t about making up for the fall—it was about something far more simple: two people getting to know each other.

After dinner, we stepped outside into the cold night air, the snow still falling gently. Nicholas gave me a side glance, his breath misting in the cold. “So… no rematches?”

I shook my head, smiling. “I think we’re even. You knocked me down, you bought me dinner… I’m good.”

He smirked, but there was a soft sincerity in his expression. “Fair enough. But I do owe you one more thing—next time, I’ll make sure I stay out of your way.”

I laughed, my breath puffing in the cold air. “I think I can live with that.”

As we walked side by side toward the ski lift, the tension between us had completely dissipated. The day had started with an unexpected collision, but it had ended with something far more meaningful—a connection, grounded in shared moments and the quiet understanding that sometimes, even a body slam can lead to something worth remembering.

After a thrilling day on the slopes, where Nicholas accidentally body-slammed me during a particularly tricky descent, we both found ourselves laughing off the incident in the resort's hot tub.

Seeing Nicholas under all the ski gear left me nearly speechless with his toned muscles. The cold mountain air had already started to bite at our cheeks, but as Nicholas and I eased into the steaming water of the hot tub, the heat was a welcome contrast. We had just come off the slopes, our bodies sore from hours of snowboarding, but the warmth of the water melted the tension from our muscles.

I leaned back against the side of the tub, letting out a long sigh as I closed my eyes. “This is perfect,” I murmured, my voice soft.

Nicholas glanced at me, a small smile curling on his lips. His hair was damp from the snow, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold, but he was content. “I told you the hot tub was the best part of the day.”

I smirked, playfully splashing a bit of water toward him. “You’re right. I didn’t think I’d be this sore after today, but it’s worth it.” My eyes met his, lingering for a moment longer than usual.

The warmth of the steam made everything feel a little hazy, and the quiet of the mountain was only broken by the sound of the bubbling water. Nicholas shifted closer to me, feeling a pull that went beyond just the chill in the air.

I turned slightly, meeting his gaze again. There was something in my eyes, something that wasn’t there before. The playful banter had faded, replaced by something softer. My lips parted just enough to let a breath escape, and Nicholas couldn’t help but lean in.

Before we knew it, we were close, our faces inches apart. He pulled me closer with my legs on each side of his. I looked at him for a heartbeat, as if waiting for permission, and then, without a word, I closed the distance.

Our lips met, gently at first, a tentative kiss that quickly deepened as the world outside of the hot tub seemed to fade away. It was warm, even in the chill of the evening air. My fingers brushed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the water bubbled around us, but neither of us noticed the temperature. We were lost in the moment, the weight of the day and the world beyond forgotten.

When we finally pulled away, our foreheads touched, both of them breathing a little heavier, as if we had just come up for air after a long dive.

“I guess this is the best part of the day,” Nicholas whispered, a smile tugging at his lips.

I laughed softly, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Definitely.”

We exchanged a glance, our eyes locking with an intensity that spoke volumes. Without a word, Nicholas reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering on my skin.

But soon, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. Nicholas cupped my face, his hands pulling me closer, while my arms slid around his neck, drawing him in even more.

The heat of the water surrounded us, but it was the warmth of our kiss that made everything feel electric. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in the moment, our lips moving together with a rhythm that felt completely natural, completely right.

I gently rolled my hips against his, pulling him closer. “Fuck” he breathed against my mouth.

The soft sounds of the night—distant chirps and the gentle splash of the water—faded into the background, leaving only the feeling of each other’s breath, the pressure of our lips, and the undeniable pull between us.

And for a moment, we stayed there in the warmth of the water, wrapped in the quiet of the mountains, both content and a little breathless from the kiss, knowing that this was a memory we would keep for a long time.

[corralinesage]

Learning you by heart (16/16)

This is the final chapter of the fic :) THANK YOU to everyone who has read this story. Your support means so much to me. You've made my holidays and the beginning of the year significantly better!! thank you<3

Chapter 16: Kiss of a lifetime

“I don’t wanna”, you giggled, standing a few feet away from Natasha, facing her. She had a jeering smile on her lips, powdery snow up to her ankles, her cheeks bright red.

“That’s because you’re not ready to lose, detka (baby)”, she hummed, shaping the ball of snow that she was holding between her mitten-covered hands. It was New Year’s Eve. You and Natasha had forced yourselves to get up from the bottom of the couch after realizing you had in fact inhaled a full tray of cookies that Wanda had baked for New Year’s. To escape her wrath, you had decided to go on a walk in Central Park while it was still light outside, and the city was slightly calmer than it would be in the evening.

“Lose”, you scoffed in disbelief. “I’ll show you who’s gonna lose.” You crouched down, gathering snow between your hands to have at least something to defend yourself with. Her smile widened. It was almost predatory but in a playful way. You knew you were going to get your ass handed back to you, but who could seriously blame you for wanting an attractive woman to treat you in such a way?

“Bring it on, pretty girl.” You wasted no time in chucking your snowball at her, watching her dodge it with ease. You grabbed more snow, but before you could form a ball, Natasha had chucked hers right at your face. You let out a horrified squeal as you covered your head with your arms just in time, the ball hitting your coat with impressive force. Natasha was clearly not one to mess around in a snowball fight. She laughed at your misfortune, walking a little bit closer to you as she shaped another ball between her hands. You grabbed more snow after recovering from your blow, doing your best to stare her down as you backed away from her. It was rather thrilling.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that”, you huffed as you chucked another ball at her. It didn’t land, not even close, prompting you to try again, choosing for rapid fire to hopefully at least hit her.

“Make me feel it, malyshka (baby).” She gave you a smirk, lifting her snowball up enough to give you a warning before chucking it at your face again. You could not help the natural instinct to scream and protect yourself with your arms, Natasha taking advantage of the fact that you had no training to counter her attack or any kinds of threats with an attack of your own. You could simply scream and hide. The sheer shock of her impeccable aim was enough to make you laugh, each hit she aimed at your face pulling out a scream and a laugh from you as you did your best to find a window of opportunity to get back at her. Natasha loved seeing you playful and full of joy, and what she loved even more was that she was the cause of it, she and her fighting skills that had previously only brought pain and suffering to both her and others. She chucked another one at you, the shot followed by a hearty laugh when you let out nothing but a mere squeak as you fell to the ground to avoid being hit by her, the comical sight enough to make a few bystanders turn their heads. She chucked a few more balls at you for good measure before you were able to get back on your feet again, causing you to dramatically scramble on the ground as you played up each impact of her hits like you were aiming for an Oscar-worthy performance.

Natasha looked perfectly fine in her fur-lined leather jacket that was stylish yet relaxed, a thick scarf neatly tied around her neck, her curls pulled back into a messy bun at the back of her head. She looked all too good considering she was in the middle of a snowball fight, which prompted you to up your game. Your aim with the ammunition might not have been the best, but you had other ways of defending yourself. However, you were going to try a few more times before resorting to physical violence. She threw another snowball at you, but you managed to dodge it, a second one hitting you in the side right after, a third one on its way. You screamed, running further into the blanket of snow around you on one of the vast lawns in Central Park, Natasha’s snowballs hitting your back with impressive consistency. You took some distance, glad to notice that Natasha was taking a break from bombing you into ruins. You prepared your snowball, aiming it at Natasha before chucking it as hard as you could. It flew across the air, speeding toward her, but alas, she was always too fast. You tried to hit her at least five more times but she remained unscathed whereas you were sweaty and already looking more than disheveled with your scarf hanging down your back and your hair messy beyond repair.

“Oh, I’m gonna take you down”, you growled, throwing the snowball in your hands at the ground when Natasha hit you once more, giggling like a fool at her own success, thriving off of your misery.

“Let’s see it then.” She paused expectantly, waiting for you to reveal your next move. You were less than ten feet away from each other when you suddenly sprinted toward her, aimlessly attacking her with your hands to at least ruffle up her appearance. She let out a loud cackle that echoed across the lawn in the park, falling into the snow when your body collided with hers. She didn’t even try to fight back, pleased to feel your body press into hers as you pushed her into the foot of fresh snow that had come down during the last week of December.

“All bark and no bite”, you mumbled triumphantly, crawling on top of her to admire the way her hair contrasted against the stark white of the snow, her bright pink cheeks glowing as her smile widened. You leaned closer to her, feeling her mittens stroke over your thighs, your body beginning to warm up from inside out all on its own. Your eyes searched hers, a gloating smirk finding your lips as you leaned close enough for her to feel your breath fan over her chin. You reveled in the feeling of triumph you experienced for getting at least one hit on her, Natasha allowing you to have your moment before you went flying into the snow. You screamed again, barely able to process how insanely strong of a woman she was when your back thudded against the soft snow, and she was up on her feet, her boot pressing down on your chest.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” It slipped from you. It really just did. Natasha’s smirk turning into one of utter satisfaction. You tried to squirm beneath the firm pressure of her foot, but she really had you nailed to the ground. “Don’t turn me on. It’s not fair”, you whined, pushing her boot off your chest.

“I’m doing no such thing.” Natasha let out a slightly condescending chuckle. “You’d know if I was.” Just those words made your stomach twist pleasurably in anticipation for more.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes”, she hummed, crouching down beside you, her lips tugging into a happy grin that worked as a late warning for what you had coming your way. With one rough yank she flipped you face first into the snow, her hands pulling your arms back as if to detain you, a low moan falling from your lips as she straddled your hips. She chuckled softly, purposely putting more pressure over your hips by pushing herself against you, the action going straight between your legs. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from letting out another sound, the cold snow against your cheek suddenly a comforting relief as the heat bubbled up inside your thick coat. You felt her move on top of you as she leaned over you, her mouth hovering over your ear. “Feel that, detka (baby)?” You indeed felt every nerve in your body, your heart racing in your chest as you nodded your head. “That’s what I’m talking about.” You let out a soft groan of defeat, delicious sparks of warmth gliding down your spine at the weight on top of you and her sweet breath tickling your ear.

“I want a rematch”, you groaned, pushing yourself up against her in an attempt to escape, but you only made your situation worse when you heard Natasha’s small grunt right by your ear. Fuck, what a woman. The cold of the snow seeping through your clothes had never been more welcome.

“I’ll beat you every time, krasotka (pretty girl).”

“No”, you moaned, pushing yourself up against her to gain leverage from the ground beneath you, but when you couldn’t find enough strength to get her body off you, you decided to play just as dirty as her. You exaggerated the huffing that your physical straining had left you with, slipping in a sound that made Natasha throb against the curve of your buttocks. You bucked your hips, managing to free your hands from her ruthless grip that had loosened just that little bit from the wave of desire that had flashed through her. With your upper body free, you were able to push her back, sending her into the snow, her cocky smirk replaced by an intense look of want. Finally, you were affecting her. You smirked in victory, not giving her time to even try to get up as you shoved her into the snow, a puff of it flying right into your heated face as Natasha’s hair got fully doused in the powdery substance. She laughed loudly, pleased to feel you against her, truly overjoyed by the privilege of having you near. She gave up on fighting you, her hands finding the curve of your waist to caress, pulling you closer to her front, but you tutted her suddenly.

“Ah, no. This is my only weapon”, you purred condescendingly, pulling out of her reach to deny her the pleasure of touching you.

“Come on, now”, Natasha groaned, sitting up in the snow, her eyes dipping down your very non-seductive get up, but her gaze lingered, nonetheless.

“Maybe tonight”, you mused teasingly. “I’m here to fight.”

“I don’t even get a kiss? That doesn’t seem right, dorogaya (darling).” She shook her head in disappointment, giving you a small pout but you just grabbed a ball of snow and chucked it into her face. She let out a small growl when the snow pelted against her forehead, a wary squint on your face as you watched her carefully to make sure she wasn’t hurt by the impact. “Suit yourself, detka (baby).” She gave you a murderous look that had your knees wobbly as she stood up from the ground. You immediately backed away, hastily and blindly starting to run away from her but she was lightning fast. She was so fast you didn’t think humans could be so quick in their movements. She charged at you and tackled you into the ground accompanied by loud giggles from the both of you. She pretended to hit you in a sparring manner, tickling you instead, her hands ever so gentle when they connected with your body.

You play-fought until you were sweaty and disheveled, until the sun went down, returning home laughing and giggling as you entered through the door. The atmosphere inside was beyond romantic, shutting you and Natasha up instantly when you spotted Wanda and Monica on the couch in candlelight, a charcuterie board and wine on the coffee table. You and Natasha looked at each other with giddy, knowing grins on your faces before apologizing to the two women and rushing upstairs to get out of their way. You held onto Natasha’s ice-cold hand, allowing her to drag you into your room and throw you right onto the bed, the springs groaning beneath your weight. She joined you on the bed, beyond pleased that there were no thick winter clothes in the way of your bodies. You pulled her on top of you, fitting her between your legs and locking her in place by wrapping your legs around her hips. You looked at one another, your back arching to press your breasts against hers.

“Hmm, I think you owe me a kiss.” Natasha had been yearning for one all afternoon, her eyes flitting down to your mouth.

“Do I, now?” You smirked. “I don’t think so.” Natasha sighed in disappointment, leaning down, but you didn’t let her reach your mouth. Your hands stroked down her sides to grab her glutes, Natasha pressing her lips together to hide her reaction.

“You said maybe in the evening”, Natasha reminded you, her fingers tracing your neck, sending shivers down your spine as goosebumps erupted all over the area.

“Maybe”, you emphasized, Natasha groaning in annoyance.

“You’re such a little shit”, she mumbled, adjusting herself on top of you enough to make you bite your lip at the way her body shifted against you.

“It’s New Year’s Eve, baby”, you crooned, your forefinger trailing over her plump lips that were irritated and pink from the cold. They were irresistible, especially when you knew just how delicious they would feel against your own, but you didn’t let her kiss you. “Wouldn’t you wanna wait until midnight?” You gave her your best pair of doe eyes, Natasha’s hips seeming to press into your own just a little tighter.

“No.” You chuckled at her small pout. “What kind of a psychopath are you?” She asked in a sarcastic scoff that made you laugh.

“I just want it to be worth the wait”, you whispered.

“Ah, I see how it is”, she hummed a bit smugly, her hips pressing into your own with tantalizing pressure for one last time before she got off you, her left hand stroking up your inner thigh on the way, just to tease you. You wanted to cuss her for such a move, electricity shooting through you, your body longing after the pressure and warmth she had given you.

You should have known that it was a mistake to provoke Natasha in such a way, the wait until midnight turning out to be painfully slow and tantalizing. You were quite positive Natasha had never looked sexier than she did when you were downstairs with Wanda and Monica, filling your stomachs with delicious food to fuel yourselves for the coming year. Your girlfriend was jaw-droppingly gorgeous even in the most casual clothing imaginable. She needed nothing more than a flattering shirt and a pair of perfectly fitted trousers to make you crave her attention, not to even mention her loose, messy curls that you had to force yourself not to ruffle up further. However, that was not the only reason you found yourself hot and bothered during the hours leading up to midnight. Natasha knew how to play. You had always known that, but you had failed to realize how drastically you underestimated your own ability to stand her taunting gaze and teasing touches. You could barely focus on anything when those lithe fingers touched you whenever they got the chance. She was not even slightly ashamed of how high up your thigh her hand went when you sat on the couch, chatting away with Wanda and Monica, her discreet fingers brushing all too close to the apex of your thighs.

You were warm inside, every touch of her hand spreading a burning sensation across your skin, the heat reaching inside you, festering there to become a burning ball of desire within you. She was sly with her advances, managing to use even the smallest of touches to her advantage. Just a graze of her fingers against your own was enough to remind you of how good they felt inside you, how good they felt squeezing your hips hard enough for those perfect nails to leave marks into your skin. The simplest of caresses against your lower back made a shiver run down your spine as you recalled the way she had peppered the area with sweet kisses before taking you from behind. You had set your trap all by yourself but there was no backing down, not until midnight because your pride would not allow you to let Natasha win with her burning gaze and wandering hands. She would not get to win no matter how she looked at your lips and your cleavage and shamelessly eyed you like a piece of candy. It got to you, oh it got to you so well, but she would not get to know that.

Of course, Natasha could see exactly how affected you were. She noticed the way you crossed your legs shortly after slipping a lewd comment in your ear. She noticed your avoidant gaze, your fidgety hands, your flustered appearance. It was all right there for her to admire, and oh boy, did she admire. She would not waste a single second of her opportunity to gawk at you to her heart’s content. You looked absolutely stunning no matter what you did, and she made sure you knew it.

The hours left until midnight seemed to drag on forever alongside the wetness in your underwear, getting infinitely worse when Wanda and Monica left the house to go spot fireworks outside around ten in the evening. Your senses prickled in an almost overwhelming way when the door thudded shut. Your stomach lurched and your cheeks heated as you realized that there was nothing holding you back from Natasha, nothing but your own pride. You sat side by side in the dimness of the Christmas decorations, your hearts beating erratically in your chests. There were no social rules left to maintain now that Wanda and Monica were gone. You did not have to be mindful about making them feel uncomfortable with your little game. You made sure to not even look at Natasha because you had a feeling you were not going to be able to restrain yourself.

“Warm?” Natasha asked quietly, the low, deep tone of her voice sending shivers down your spine. There was nothing you could do to prevent the spark of electricity that glided down your spine and right between your legs.

“Maybe a little”, you hummed, your skin swallowed by scorching flames when you felt her hand on your shoulder. She was sitting on the couch in a slight angle to be as close to you as possible, her breasts pressing up against your arm, her fingers coming up to your shoulder, carefully moving closer to touch the area where your collarbone ended. Her fingers were cool against your hot skin, barely even brushing over it, but you felt every bit of that touch, your body tingling expectantly. You felt like you couldn’t quite breathe correctly when she was so close.

“Let me know if it gets to her too much, detka (baby).” Her voice. Her voice was too much for you to handle. It made you want to whine from frustration. The endearment, the slight accent she said it with. It was all getting to be far too delicious. She had a smug smirk on her face as her fingers traced loops on your skin, her eyes on the movie in front of you.

“I’m good.” You barely managed to slip the words out without giving yourself away. She was winning and you both knew it. You turned to look at Natasha, your eyes holding her own, their intensity boring right into your soul. The slight curve to her lips was daunting. You knew she was enjoying the situation immensely. She wanted to see you crumble, she wanted to see you give in to her. It was one of her favorite things to throw your own decisions and teasing into your face. You saw the very subtle movement of her lips as she bit the inside of it to keep her face schooled, your eyes dipping automatically to her plump lips. So what, your ego could take a hit or two. It was almost midnight anyway. Only an hour and a half to go. So what, if you took a head-start to the new year, hopefully literally. You leaned in abruptly, barely even realizing your own decision, Natasha pulling back right that second to not allow your lips to connect. She let out a slightly condescending, victorious laugh that made your stomach lurch as she gently pushed you back into your spot on the couch. She tutted you gently.

“Ah, ah, ninety more minutes, darling.” You let out a heavy sigh at her teasing.

“I didn’t even want you, by the way”, you grumbled in annoyance, crossing your arms, Natasha coming closer to you again, her fingers brushing back some of your hair to uncover your ear.

“No, of course not”, she chuckled knowingly, doing her best to sound serious, but the situation was far too amusing for her to keep a level face. “You were reaching for the remote, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, a smile creeping to your face as you nudged her away from you because every brush of her hand, her body, felt like pure, blissful torture.

When the clock struck eleven you felt exhausted from the effort you were putting into staying away from Natasha. You wanted any kind of contact with her. You wanted to lie on her chest and have her play with your hair, but any kind of playing would end up in you missing out on the change of years and all the pretty fireworks you wanted to witness. Hell, even sitting on the same couch was risky when all you could think about was your first time with her on that very couch. You lasted for another thirty minutes before needing to exit the house, suggesting to Natasha that you go for another walk so that you can be outside where you could properly see all the fireworks at midnight.

“I know a really good place”, you hummed as you both got off the couch, Natasha’s hand turning off the TV with the remote that sat next to her.

“Where?” She seemed curious.

“You’ll see.” The look on Natasha’s face was one of excitement, an undeniable thrill to experience more life with you.

The steady and consistent boom of fireworks going off around you welcomed you as you stepped outside into the snowy streets. You headed toward more spacious areas of the city where shooting fireworks was easier and safer, looking to spot the most beautiful ones. You walked around for a good while, talking as you pointed into the sky to make sure you both saw the same thing.

“I love the small sparkles. It’s like golden rain”, you hummed, holding onto Natasha’s hand a little tighter, making sure you were walking as close as possible to her. She looked at you for a long moment, her eyes returning to the sky just as a firework went off, green and golden sparkles flying across on the pitch-black sky.

“Me too”, she hummed serenely, her hand pointing up at the sky. “Incoming.” You both watched a large, multicolored ball of light scatter across the sky.

“That one was gorgeous”, you commented, staring up at the sky in excitement.

“Can you predict the next one?” Natasha asked as the high-pitched wheeze of a firework sounded above you, a single ball of light flying upward.

“Red.” The firework exploded right as you said it, thin, orange streaks bursting into the shape of a round figure accompanied by golden sparkles.

“Almost.” She had a gentle smile on her face.

“You try the next one.” You both slowed down at the edge of the Hudson River, coming to a full stop. The bank area gave you a good view of Brooklyn and all the fireworks people were setting off. Natasha moved behind you, her hands sliding around your waist to hug you, her chin resting over your shoulder. You leaned your head against hers, your abdomen churning with butterflies as her body pressed tighter into your backside, her arms squeezing you enough for you to feel it.

“That one is going to be blue”, she whispered into your ear, your hands coming up to her forearms to hug her back. The firework exploded loudly, golden sparks flying everywhere, followed by slightly delayed, smaller sparks that rapped in a satisfying way.

“Not quite”, you hummed gently, nuzzling closer to her chest.

“What about that one?” She nodded her head toward another large firework.

“Green.” You said it as quickly as possible, both of you watching green and red sparks burst above the water.

“You got it, baby.” She pressed her cheek against your own, hearing a little laugh from you.

“Oh, look at that! It’s pink!” You squealed, pointing at the sky again, a large ball of pink appearing in the distance.

“I think that’s the first pink one I’ve seen”, she hummed, pulling back to look at you after you turned your head to see her. You smiled at each other, the urge to kiss her growing tenfold. You could barely resist her and the only reason you managed to, was because she was able to control herself enough to place her chin back on your shoulder.

“I wanna see more blue.” You watched in silence as the fireworks exploded one after the other, your wish eventually coming true, blue and gold flashing against the midnight blue sky. “How long until midnight?” Natasha moved her left arm forward to pull up the sleeve of her coat, uncovering her wristwatch.

“Five minutes.” You glanced at each other, excitement contorting your features into wide grins of anticipation, your eyes already taking a peek at Natasha’s mouth. Her smile widened.

“Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?” Your gazes moved back to the scenery as you voiced your question.

“You. Just you. Keeping you near. And being happy, as sappy as that sounds”, Natasha mumbled, her hands rubbing your abdomen and hips to feel you better through your thick clothing and her mittens.

“Not sappy at all, love. I had something similar in mind.” You could feel her cheek move against yours as she smiled, the warmth of her face making your heart melt.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanna start celebrating Christmas from now on as long as it’s with you.” There was a quiet sniffle beside you, a nearly silent one that you could not tell whether it was emotional or simply a response to the cold outside, but you had a feeling it was the former.

“We’ll celebrate, always. We’ll make it a tradition.” Natasha nodded her head, nuzzling her nose into your cheek in an attempt to cover up the fact that she almost kissed your face before midnight. She had come to realize that waiting had its own kind of magic and it would have been a shame to screw it up so close to midnight. Natasha glanced at her clock again. Three more minutes.

“Are you ready for next year?” You pulled her arms tighter around you.

“I’ve never been more ready.”

“Me neither.” You both waited in silence as you looked across the river and sometimes even turned your heads to look at the fireworks on your side of the city, glancing at Natasha’s wristwatch rather consistently as you impatiently waited for the year to change. The wait was thrilling, your body feeling jittery in her embrace. You were prepared for the new year perhaps for the first time in a long time. You felt okay, you felt better than okay. You felt hopeful and you felt strong with Natasha beside you, and the feeling was beyond mutual. You had no way to truly comprehend the relief she felt. You had no idea about the safety and security she experienced in that moment with you. To know that all the explosions were simply for the entertainment and enjoyment of the citizens and not to defend Manhattan from danger. To know that you were safe and sound right there against her chest. To know that you were hers and she was yours. She had not felt such contentment in a very long time with everything that had been going on in her previous reality. But the war was over, and she could finally breathe.

“One more minute”, she whispered after checking the time again. She gave you one more squeeze before flipping you around in her arms, your smile seeming to linger vehemently on your face. You couldn’t shake it no matter what. You were far too excited about her and the unforgettable moment you were sharing.

“One more minute”, you repeated, looking at her with such longing that Natasha felt an adoring frown find her face as she took off her mittens, shoving them into her pocket to be able to touch your face with her bare hands. She caressed your skin gently, none of the fireworks around you able to steal your gaze away from her eyes. She looked so beautiful, so mesmerizing, that all you could do was look at her. You both glanced down at her watch again, waiting for the clock to strike midnight, your gazes remaining down until the minute hand finally ticked forward and hit midnight.

Your head shot up to see her, both of you looking like you were going to burst out of your seams from excitement. You wasted no time in leaning in, capturing her in a kiss so heated Natasha’s left knee nearly gave in, the fireworks going off around you in a cacophony of explosions as people shouted “Happy New Year” to everyone nearby. She parted her lips immediately for you, deepening the kiss to be dizzying, her body melting into yours, begging for more after the torturous wait she had had to endure for the day. You heard her desperate moan, felt it against your lips, your mouth devouring her to the best of your ability. You wanted every inch of her. You wanted to swallow her whole and keep her inside of you forever. There was no way to process your lust and want for her. There was nothing you could do to accurately convey the raw need you felt for her, your tongue sliding all too lewdly against her own considering you were in public, but thankfully there were not that many people close to you. The kiss lasted for as long as physically possible, every cell in your body straining for as long as biology allowed, your kiss growing fervent and sloppy. Natasha could barely manage to pull away from you, her mouth hungry for so much more, her wet kisses moving up your jaw and cheek when you pulled away for air.

“Happy New Year, love”, you moaned breathily into her ear, your arms hugging her close, your eyes wandering to the fireworks above you, explosion after another going off against the dark sky.

“Happy New Year, detka (baby).” Her hoarse voice made you dive right back into the kiss, your mouths moving in tandem, fueled by hunger and affection, the greed you experienced bleeding through with ease. You barely caught a glimpse of the lightshow going on around you, far too busy making sure your girlfriend got the New Year’s kiss of a lifetime. You could feel her smile against your lips, a small chuckle slipping from you between kisses. You’d never felt such bliss in your life, your heart beating erratically in your chest, trying desperately to feel all that it was feeling. Natasha’s body burned with the joy and excitement she felt, a few more pecks getting littered all over your mouth before she pulled away to clear out her dizzy head.

“Is it bad that I kind of want to go home?” You asked slyly, the smirk on your face telling Natasha of where the night was headed.

“Not at all, malyshka (baby).” She chuckled knowingly. “Not at all.” Your eyes moved to the fireworks around you, both of you admiring them for the short moment that you managed to spend away from each other’s lips.

Hand in hand you left your spot by the riverbank and headed back home to make sure you started your year off right, you and Natasha’s incessant and playful giggles lasting all the way home and up into your bedroom.

[spenceluvsurmomsblog]

Oh great can you wrote a smut for Jesse katsopolis x fem!reader ? Maybe enemies to lovers ?

Ofc anon!! I won’t even lie to you it’s so hard to find good Jesse fanfics and I love him sm so I’ll try and make this the best I possibly can for you!! 🩷

Content warnings: fighting ? Oral (f receiving) , close call (almost getting caught by Danny) I think that’s it let me know if theres anything I might’ve missed

Also picture isn’t mine!!

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You had been friends with Danny forever he was like your best friend so you were thrilled when he married Pam, you never really got along with Jesse, he was a bad boy and never followed the rules, he rode a motorcycle and wore too much grease in his hair. He was the exact thing your parents wanted you to stay away from, which you had no problem with that every time you were around each other you ended up arguing. After Pam died you had offered to help Danny with the girls promising him you’d be able to keep the arguing with Jesse to a minimum which is what led you here. Danny decided to leave you two alone to try and work out your differences which to no surprise ended up with you two yelling at each other “why do you hate me so much??” you yelled at him and he yelled back “I don’t hate you! Your the one who hates me always yelling at me like that” he countered slowly backing her into the counter. “You’d always ignore me and pretend I didn’t exist!” He sighed pinching his fingers at the bridge of his nose in exhaustion “because I love you and I wanted you to like me so I played hard to get with you” she stared at him in confusion for a second processing his words before crashing her lips against his. He didn’t waste a second in kissing her back grabbing her soft thighs and hoisting her up onto the cabinet. He broke the kiss for a moment to slide her shirt over her head before continuing to kiss her. He kissed her jaw and down her neck beginning suck purple marks into the sensitive skin while she let out soft moans “Jess~” she moaned as he moved down to suck on her sensitive mounds fondling the other with his hand. She carefully lifted her hips as he slid her shorts and panties off in one swift motion before leaving soft kisses on her inner thighs inching closer to her soaked core. She let out a loud moan as he started sucking on her clit causing her to close her thighs around his head as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her at a slow pace. “Please I need more” she whined lowly “I know just be patient” he mumbled before diving back between her legs to pull an orgasm from her leaving her thighs trembling before he returned to his position standing between her legs. He unbutton his pants freeing his hard cock from the confines of his tight jeans and gently rubbing hai tip through he sensitive folds before quickly pushing into her weeping hole causing them both to let out a sigh of relief. He waited for her to be ready before he started at a rough pace listening to her moans as he dropped his head back on content “such a good girl for me yeah?” He groaned as she squeezed around him at his words of praise “o-only for you” she stuttered out between moans. After a few more thrusts she came again, he followed after her just in time for them to hear the car pull up outside. They quickly rushed to get their clothes back on and ran to sit on the couch just as Danny walked in with the girls “hey you two how did it go, I see you haven’t killed each other” Danny laughed as he took his coat off hanging it by the door. “It went fine I don’t think we’ll be fighting anymore” Jesse said smirking slyly at her “we solved our differences” she said with a small giggle as Danny nodded and took the girls upstairs to get ready for bed.

I’m so sorry this wasn’t as good as i intended it to be but it helps with my writing skills and getting better so thank you for your request and I hope you enjoyed!!!

[lanawrx]

Hi! I’m glad I found your page that writes initial d x reader content. Would you be able to write about Keisuke or ryosuke who has a crush on a clueless/oblivious reader? Thanks :)

Keisuke Takahashi, Ryosuke Takahashi (seperately) with a crush on Oblivious! Reader

a/n: EEE THIS WAS SO CUTE TO IMAGINE >.< I hope you enjoy!! Feel free to send any more requests :333

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Ryosuke Takahashi

You always admired Ryosuke Takahashi's skills and dedication to street racing, but you never imagined you’d become a part of his world. When you joined Project D as a support crew member, you were thrilled. You were good with numbers and had a knack for strategy, which Ryosuke quickly noticed. However, what you didn’t notice was how his eyes lingered on you a bit longer than necessary, or how he seemed to find excuses to be around you more often than anyone else.

“Here, take a look at this,” Ryosuke handed you his laptop with the latest data from Keisuke’s practice runs.

You took the laptop from him, your focus solely on the numbers and graphs displayed on the screen. “His entry speed is a bit off on the third hairpin. If he doesn’t adjust, he’ll lose too much time,” you murmured, completely engrossed in the data.

Ryosuke watched you with a small smile, noticing how your brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re right. We’ll have to go over that with him before the race,” he replied, though his mind was more on how cute you looked when you were deep in thought than on the data itself.

You nodded, already typing out some notes to bring up during the team meeting. “I’ll make sure to mention it to him,” you said, still oblivious to the way Ryosuke’s gaze softened when you weren’t looking.

The days passed with you completely focused on your work with Project D, your analytical mind a perfect complement to Ryosuke’s strategic genius. The two of you spent countless hours together, often working late into the night to ensure everything was perfect for the next race. Ryosuke appreciated your dedication, but he also found himself growing more and more captivated by you.

One evening, after a particularly long day of preparations, Ryosuke suggested a break. “Let’s grab something to eat. You’ve been working nonstop,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm.

You looked up from your notes, surprised. “Oh, I’m fine. There’s still a lot to do before tomorrow,” you replied, not even realizing how exhausted you were.

Ryosuke shook his head, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’ll work better with a full stomach. Besides, it’s on me,” he added, hoping to make the offer more appealing.

You hesitated, but the rumble of your stomach betrayed you. “Okay, fine. But only because you’re insisting,” you finally agreed, standing up and stretching, completely unaware of the way Ryosuke’s eyes followed your movements.

At the small diner, the two of you sat across from each other, the atmosphere surprisingly relaxed. Ryosuke found himself opening up more than usual, sharing stories from his past races and even a bit about his life outside of Project D. You listened intently, genuinely interested in everything he had to say.

“You’ve accomplished so much, Ryosuke,” you said with admiration, your eyes shining as you looked at him. “It’s no wonder everyone respects you so much.”

Ryosuke felt a warmth spread through him at your words. “I couldn’t have done any of it without the team… and without people like you,” he replied, his voice softer than usual.

You blushed slightly at the compliment, but quickly brushed it off. “I’m just doing my part,” you said with a shrug, completely missing the deeper meaning behind his words.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity as Project D prepared for a series of intense races. Ryosuke and you continued to work closely together, your bond growing stronger with each passing day. However, your obliviousness to Ryosuke’s feelings remained as strong as ever.

One night, after another successful race, the team was celebrating at a local hangout spot. You were chatting with Keisuke about his latest victory when Ryosuke approached, a rare smile on his face.

“You did great tonight,” Ryosuke said, his eyes locking onto yours.

You grinned back at him, completely missing the way Keisuke rolled his eyes at the obvious tension between his brother and you. “Thanks! It was all thanks to your strategy, though,” you replied, giving Ryosuke all the credit.

Keisuke decided to take matters into his own hands. “You know, Ryosuke’s been talking about you a lot lately,” he said with a smirk, earning a sharp look from his older brother.

You blinked in surprise, turning to Ryosuke. “Really? What about?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Ryosuke cleared his throat, a bit flustered for once. “Just… your dedication to the team. It’s impressive,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

You smiled, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind his words. “Well, I’m glad I can help. Project D is important to me, too,” you said earnestly.

Keisuke sighed in exasperation, but before he could say anything else, Ryosuke shot him a warning look. Keisuke just shook his head, muttering something about how hopeless his brother could be.

As Project D’s journey continued, so did Ryosuke’s feelings for you. He admired your intelligence, your passion, and the way you fit so perfectly into the team. But most of all, he cherished the moments he got to spend with you, even if you remained blissfully unaware of his growing affection.

One day, after another long session of planning, Ryosuke found himself sitting beside you, the two of you alone in the quiet room. He glanced at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he mustered up the courage to speak.

“You know,” he began, his voice steady, “I’ve been thinking… about what comes after Project D.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “Oh? What do you have in mind?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Ryosuke hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the plunge. “I’m not sure yet. But whatever it is… I hope you’ll be a part of it,” he said, his gaze intense as he looked into your eyes.

You blinked, taken aback by the seriousness in his tone. “Of course I will. We make a great team,” you replied, smiling brightly at him, completely missing the deeper implication of his words.

Ryosuke’s heart sank slightly, but he couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Yeah… we do,” he said softly, deciding that for now, just having you by his side was enough.

As the two of you continued working together, Ryosuke remained patient, content with the moments you shared, even if you were still blissfully unaware of his true feelings. After all, he was nothing if not strategic—and he knew that eventually, you’d realize just how much you meant to him. Until then, he would cherish every second he got to spend with you, hoping that one day, you’d see him as more than just a teammate.

Keisuke Takahashi

Keisuke Takahashi had always been known for his hot-headed demeanor and intense focus on racing. The moment he first met you, though, something changed. You weren't like the other members of Project D, who were all about speed and precision. You brought a refreshing lightness to the team—always cheerful, supportive, and completely oblivious to the fact that Keisuke had developed a massive crush on you.

Your role in Project D was crucial, even if it wasn't behind the wheel. You helped with coordination, keeping track of logistics, and making sure the drivers were well-prepared before each race. You had a knack for anticipating what the team needed before they even knew it themselves. Keisuke noticed this, of course. He noticed everything about you, from the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about the latest racing strategy, to how you'd laugh at the smallest things, bringing an unexpected warmth to the otherwise intense atmosphere of Project D.

"Hey, can you hand me that wrench?" Keisuke's voice startled you from your thoughts one afternoon. You were in the garage, helping the mechanics with some last-minute checks on his Mazda FD3S RX-7.

"Oh! Sure, here you go," you said with a smile, handing him the tool. Keisuke took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. You didn't think much of it, but Keisuke's heart skipped a beat.

"Thanks," he muttered, trying to sound casual. You nodded, oblivious to the way his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary.

During race days, you were always there, cheering on the drivers with an infectious enthusiasm. Keisuke often found himself glancing in your direction, drawn to the way you seemed to genuinely care about every race, every driver, every result.

One evening after a successful race, the team gathered to celebrate. You were in high spirits, laughing and chatting with the others, completely unaware that Keisuke was watching you from across the room, his expression softer than usual.

"You did great out there tonight, Keisuke!" you said when you finally caught his eye. "I knew you'd win!"

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the warmth in your voice. "Yeah, well… thanks," he replied, trying to hide the slight blush creeping up his neck.

"You should smile more, you know," you teased lightly, completely unaware of the effect your words had on him. "You always look so serious."

"I’m focused," Keisuke replied, trying to maintain his usual tough exterior. But there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Focused, huh?" you grinned, nudging him playfully. "Well, it's good to have that intensity on the track. But it's nice to see you relax every now and then."

Keisuke’s heart thudded in his chest. He wasn’t used to this—feeling vulnerable, wanting to open up. But with you, it felt… different. He wanted to talk more, share more, and maybe even tell you how he really felt. But every time he tried, the words got stuck in his throat.

One day, as the team prepared for a particularly challenging race, you noticed Keisuke looking a little more tense than usual. You walked over to him, offering him a bottle of water.

"Hey, you okay?" you asked, concern in your eyes. "You seem a bit off today."

Keisuke took the water from you, trying to play it cool. "I’m fine. Just… thinking."

You smiled at him, that bright, oblivious smile that always made his heart do somersaults. "You’re going to do great, I know it. Just trust yourself."

He nodded, your words giving him a strange sense of calm. "Thanks… I mean it."

"Anytime," you said, giving him a thumbs-up. "We’re all rooting for you."

As you walked away to help the others, Keisuke watched you go, his chest tight with the feelings he didn’t quite know how to express. He wanted to say something—anything—to let you know how much you meant to him. But every time he tried, the moment seemed to slip away.

It wasn’t until after that race, when the team was winding down, that Keisuke finally mustered up the courage to approach you.

"Hey," he said, a little more awkwardly than he intended.

"Hey!" you replied, turning to face him with that same bright smile. "You were amazing out there! I’m so proud of you!"

Keisuke’s heart pounded. He wanted to tell you everything—how much your support meant to him, how he looked forward to seeing you every day, how you were the reason he pushed himself so hard. But all he could manage was:

"I… appreciate you."

You blinked in surprise, not fully grasping the weight of his words. "I appreciate you too, Keisuke! We make a great team, don’t we?"

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah… we do."

As you turned away, already moving on to the next task, Keisuke sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d have to try again another day. For now, he was content just being around you, even if you had no idea how much you meant to him.

And who knows? Maybe one day, you’d notice the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you, or how he was always a little kinder, a little more patient when you were around. Until then, Keisuke would keep racing, keep pushing himself, all with you in his thoughts, waiting for the right moment to finally tell you how he felt.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡ Thanks for Reading! ˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

[yami268]

Attack of the 50ft Holiday Cat

Summary: Lina and co. are tasked with taking care of a giant cat terrorizing a town. She scoffs it off as a hoax until they actually see it for themselves. And it's a lot bigger than they thought.

AO3 Link

A/N: Hey @eastofthemoon! I'm your @slayersweek Secret Santas for this year! Have a fic with pic that's about the Slayers gang facing the Yule Cat. Also posted it to AO3 in case you want to read it there. Hope you enjoy it!

“So… Let me get this straight…” Lina murmured as her finger pressed against her forehead. “You want to enlist my services to, and I’m just paraphrasing here, deal with a cat?”

The mayor let out a small chuckle before he answered, “Well… It’s actually a very large cat.”

As an awkward silence filled the room, she stared at the portly man with her mouth twitching. Of all the things to be asked to do, she never thought wrangling a cat would be one of them. Not like she didn’t know the finicky nature of a cat. However, she felt that it was below her skill level. Closing her eyes for a bit, she turned to her companions, Gourry, Amelia, and Zelgadis. “Alright, let’s go then.”

“Wa-Wait! At least allow me to explain!” He exclaimed, panic-stricken across his face. Stopping for a moment, the group all looked at each other before they settled back into place.

Letting out a cough, the mayor leaned more onto the table. “You see, we wouldn’t have much trouble if it were a normal cat or even an abnormal cat. But this thing is giant! A large ferocious beast! It has started coming to town every night for the past three days, and it has been taking people! Of course, it’s usually people wearing their old garments. But my point still stands!”

“Are you sure?” asked Gourry. “It could be like a lost house cat, and it thinks the people are mice it can play with.”

Everyone stared at him in shock. With her eyebrow twitching, Lina pretty much whacked him on the head.

“Anyway… We could really use a high-class sorceress like yourself to stop this monster. Granted, you’re the only one we know of that is here. But we could use your help in this manner.” The mayor gleamed as he looked at her.

She, though, didn’t seem too thrilled. “I don’t know…”

“We’ll double the reward!” he offered, “5000 gold if you stop the cat!”

“Make it triple that! Also, free meals and room to stay in!”

“Huh-Wha-But! But that’s too much!” he said, flabbergasted.

“That’s my offer.” Lina settled back in her chair. “Take it or leave it.”

After some grumbling, he snorted. “Alright, fine! Just take care of that monster!”

With a smirk, she got up, walked over to him, and shook his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.” She then turned to her companions with a gleam in her eye. “Alright! Let’s go take care of this cat!”

The group cheered while starting to head off. As they left the room, Amelia looked over at Lina and asked, “So… How are we going to catch it anyway?”

“Well, it’s pretty simple if it’s just a cat.” Lina grinned. “We’ll put some fish and toys in a cage. Then when the cat comes and walks into it, we’ll trap it.”

“I don’t know. The mayor says it’s big…” Gourry murmured as he was lost in thought.

“Oh, he’s just exaggerating. It’s probably someone playing a prank, or people got drunk and imagined it. Or even, another monster that looks like a cat,” she said as she stretched her arms over her head. “In any case, we’ll go with a worg-sized cage, at least to be on the safe size.”

As they left the mansion, Zelgadis sighed. “Why do I get the feeling that this is not going to end well?”

---

That night, outside of the town limits, Lina and her friends waited while snow was starting to fall. Not so far from them was a medium-sized cage, filled with treats a cat wouldn’t even resist. It was hidden near a bush with the snow accumulating on it, making it blend into its surroundings better. The only thing they needed to do now was wait for the cat to come. However, Lina found it insufferable with the dropping temperatures.

“S-s-s-so C-c-cold,” she muttered, shivering as she held herself tight. Of all the times an imaginary monstrous cat could attack, why was it during the snowy season?

Noticing her shaking body, Gourry asked, “Do you want me to be close to you? We can be warm together.”

“S-s-sure. W-why n-n-n-not?” He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms over her shoulders. With this gesture, she found herself blushing. She did find herself warmer. Though she wished he did it more subtly, especially with Amelia and Zelgadis nearby.

Speaking of which, Amelia glanced over at Zelgadis as her cheeks turned slightly red. “Are you cold, Mister Zelgadis? Want me to stand close to you too?”

“Don’t worry,” he answered, “The cold never bothered me anyway.” Then, his face got slammed by a bunch of snow, much to his annoyance.

The group continued to wait as the snow started to really come down. Time passed and so far, there was still no giant monster cat to be seen. After a while more of being silent, Gourry finally spoke, “So… How do we know if we caught the cat? We’ve only been told that it’s giant.”

“Gourry…” Lina closed her eyes as she sighed aggravatedly. “I’m still sure that it’s a regular-size cat.”

“Are you sure, Miss Lina?” Amelia asked. “Like I have heard of that there’s a race of big people called Giants. So, why can’t there be giant cats?”

Looking over at her, she raised an eyebrow. “And where did you hear that?”

“Oh, a very old fairy tale that Daddy used to read to me. It’s about a boy who traded his cow for beans, and he climbs up a beanstalk and-!”

“Amelia, Gourry, I’m just going to be clear on this, so you better listen,” she began through gritted teeth. “There are no such things as giant cats!”

“Uhhh… Guys?” Zelgadis finally spoke up. All three looked at him, seeing the uneasiness in his face before turning to where he was staring at. They soon turned pale as in front of them was a cat, a very large cat. It was about as big as a pine tree with a dark fluffy coat and yellow eyes. Seeing it for themselves, they now could say that this was the giant cat that had been terrorizing the town.

“Hey, Lina…” Gourry said, breaking the stunned quietness between them. “I think we’re going to need a bigger cage.”

With a low growl, the giant cat stared down at them as its eyes went into slits. Panicking, Amelia looked over at the others. “Okay, so, why is it staring at us like that?”

After a while of thinking, Lina soon realized. “Damn it! It must be our clothes! The guy said it was taking people with old clothes and we’re wearing the same outfits since the first season!”

“To be fair, I don’t think we have that much variety in dress design.” Zelgadis sighed. He really needed a word with the character artists someday.

Without wasting another minute, the gang ran away as the cat started to chase after them. They didn’t head back to town for fear of being blamed for the unwarranted destruction. Instead, they ran deeper into the forest. The cat, unfortunately, was gaining ground as its stride was larger than theirs. As they were trying to get away, Amelia found herself tripping and landing face first into the snow.

“Oumph!” She lifted herself, the snow dripping off her face. Seeing her friends running back, her worries increased as a large shadow cast over her. She turned with a shaking head to see the large cat staring down at her with a glint in its eye. It leaned down with its mouth open to her trembling form. As she could feel its hot breath closing in, her heart raced as her mind felt the inevitable coming.

Lina, Gourry, and Zelgadis all went pale, watching as the cat ate their friend. Both the sorceress and the tall swordsman were stunned. But Zelgadis slowly walked toward it in a scowl. Raising up his hands, he produced a fiery arrow and shouted out, “FLARE ARROW!”

The spell flew towards the monstrous feline who didn’t seem scared by it. It managed to hit yet it remained unaffected by it except for noticing the others. Zelgadis gritted his teeth before shooting a much more powerful Flare Arrow at it. Again, it remained unscathed as it started to run towards the group in a fervor. At this point, he was about to cast a stronger spell. Unfortunately, the cat got close and caught him in his mouth too.

“ZELGADIS!” Lina yelled, reaching out to where he once was. She couldn’t believe it. First, Amelia and now, Zelgadis was gone too. What was worse was that the cat seemed nigh invincible that not even spells could harm it. Her mind was trying to come up with some way of stopping it. But she snapped back to reality when she saw Gourry’s hand in front of her.

“Lina…” he said, taking out his sword, “Get out of here. I’ll try to fight this thing off.”

She watched as he ran at it, letting out a battle cry. Her eyes became wide when she noticed the cat rushed at him as well. Seeing how this would end, she sprinted after him, holding her hand out. “Gourry, wai-!!”

But it was too late. The cat scooped him up into his mouth in one fell swoop. Watching it happen made her heart stop momentarily and her blood ran cold. She still couldn’t believe it. Now all her friends were gone, devoured by the monster.

Her grief didn’t last though as it now started to head towards her. Seeing it approached, she gritted her teeth while her blood slowly started to boil. She gathered her magical power in her hand and started to shoot fireballs at it. Yet just like before, they were ineffective against the monster. It didn’t take long before it loomed over her like a dark shadow.

As it opened its mouth, Lina cursed that this was how she was going to die. Not living a long life or even getting defeated by a Dark Lord but by a stupid cat. Still, it probably wouldn’t be that bad. She would at least get to see her friends again. Lowering its jaw to her, the renowned sorceress closed her eyes and accepted her fate.

---

While the snowfall started to increase in the mountain, the old man continued to shovel it out. He had made a bit of progress from today with a small pathway. But he still had a lot to do if he wanted to get to where the town was. As he continued to shovel, he soon noticed a large black cat heading his way.

“Ahh, there you are, Mittens!” he greeted as the giant cat gleamed. Seeing its cheeks puffed out, he asked, “Do we have more guests today?”

It nodded before hacking out Lina and her crew. They looked disturbed, considering how they were swallowed by the large feline. After some time, they soon realized that they were not dead.

Feeling slightly irritated, Lina grabbed the old man and shook him. “Alright! Tell us what’s going on! Where in the nine hells are we!?”

“Oh, you’re on my farm,” he said in a calm demeanor. “Mittens brought you here as you can see.”

“Hold it, Mittens?” Zelgadis raised an eyebrow.

The old man nodded. “Yes, she’s a very good kitty. My wife raised her when she was a small baby.”

The group tilted their heads, befuddled by his explanation. “Anyway, she seems to have gotten into the habit of taking people and bringing them here. I think it’s because she has noticed how lonely my wife and I have been. We used to come to the village all the time with my wife selling clothes she had made for the season. But lately, we haven’t been making the journey, considering our old age and all. So, she’s been bringing people here. Albeit it’s a rough experience for them.”

“So, you’re saying… That the cat has been kidnapping people because you guys are just LONELY?!” Lina shouted, pretty much done at this point. As he nodded again, she let out an exasperated groan.

Not being fazed by her grumbling, he asked, “Would you like to come inside? My wife would gladly make you some hot chocolate and garments for the season.”

The gang all looked at each other in contemplation before turning back to him and nodding. If anything, it probably would be better than heading back to town at this hour. As they started to make their way to the house, he yelled, “Don’t worry! I’ll have a good pathway set by next morning.”

“Okay! I’ll help after I drink hot chocolate!” Gourry called back, much to his companions’ annoyance. “Wow! I can’t believe Mittens was just taking people so these guys wouldn’t be so lonely. She must be a good kitty.”

“Yea… Good…” Lina sighed, not wanting to explain to him how cats’ morality was different from humans.

“Anyway, I hope he can get the path shoveled,” Amelia murmured, rubbing her hands.

“Well, Mittens could bring us back if we wanted to.”

Slumping, Zelgadis groaned. “I doubt that would go over well.”

“Yeeeaaa…” Lina rubbed her head. “Even if we did manage to convince the cat, the town would not take well to seeing it considering what it has done lately. At best, we should explain what’s been going on, so they don’t get the wrong idea.”

With that said, everyone pretty much agreed. So, they spent the rest of the night there, enjoying their new seasonal outfits and drinking hot chocolate.

[minx-scribbles]

all apologies (part one)

warning: nsfw 18+, suggestive language, drug use

pairing: boy band au! college au! armin arlert x fem!reader

synopsis: You could ask anyone who has met the Armin Arlert about the sweet-natured and intelligent band-nerd, and they would say that he is the epitome of true purity. He is always there for his friends, always giving the best advice and laughs. But there seems to be a deep and dark shadow following him whenever you are close... Is he really all that they say he is and what he gives off to be?

notes: Mainly introduction but I have always wanted a deep and dark armin smutty fic as a picky reader... so i decided to write my own :) I love possessive and dark(ish) armin, gimme moreee

word count: 2.6k

part one | part two

It's your first day of college at Marley Institute of the Arts. You look at yourself in the mirror, pondering on a thought: “How the hell did I even make it to college?”. But you have no time to think because your new roommate knocks on the bathroom door. You grab all of your morning essentials and stuff them into your singular drawer below the sink. 

You swing the door open, and you stand face to face with Sasha Blouse, your new roommate. She was honestly beautiful; with her brunette hair pulled back with a claw clip and curtain bangs that barely that struggle to stay in the updo, she also has the brightest gold eyes you’ve ever seen on someone. Sasha is of average height with tanned skin, but she has some blemishes on her arms from what she told you: “I burnt myself while cooking”. Makes sense she is going to school for Culinary Arts, a smaller major at MIA. 

You are still deciding on your major since you can’t pick between creative writing, film, or theater. You want to become a star Broadway director someday. You have always grown up going to musicals with your family and singing to your parents with a fake microphone while the television shined big words on karaoke nights; at this point, it’s just natural for you to hum a tune at all times of the day. Your siblings always asked you to sing them lullabies to loll them to sleep and your professors praised you, always asking what schools accepted you for your skills. MIA was the most collegiate institute in the country, for it had almost every Fine Arts, and others, majors, leaving a wide selection for every student.  

“I’m sorry,” you say sheepishly to Sasha. You aren’t used to sharing only one bathroom with another girl your age. All your siblings are too young to hog the toilet yet. 

Sasha smiles her toothy grin, it feels like a literal sun beats down onto you, “You’re good girlfriend, I just have to take a serious piss.”

That makes you laugh, and you slide past her to get out of Sasha’s way. The door closes and you hear the click! of the lock. You walk over to the far side of the apartment to your room and to pull out an outfit from the dresser. Since the university is up north, you slide on some thick leggings and whatever comfy sweatshirt you pull out first, and, of course, your beater shoes. Hopefully every other person doesn’t give a shit.

Grabbing your beat-up backpack and your water bottle, you head out of the apartments that are across the street from the campus to your first class of the day: Acting 1 with Professor Hange Zoe. You weren’t too thrilled about acting since you don’t have the best presence in front of the camera, but it’s better than actually having to sing like in Voice and Diction 1 on Tuesdays. Singing was strictly for your family, and you didn’t have the balls to let it out at the bar on Karaoke Nights. 

The walk to class was rushed but the autumn breeze was inviting. You pop in your headphones and start to listen to some classics. The students buzzed around you, all either looking at their phones and some chatting amongst each other. The class size was small; the school only accepted 300 students every year and most were older than 20, since MIA is an institute and not a bachelor’s school. 

The doors to the Acting Building were huge, with massive metal figures that seem to be people? You couldn’t tell. Pushing the doors open, you are met with multiple students running to class. You pull your schedule up with your phone and find the room number. 

—-

Professor Hange definitely knew how to wow a crowd. It didn’t even feel like you were even in a class about acting. Hange, as they told the class they preferred to be called, was erratic or ecstatic, you couldn’t tell. They jumped all over the classroom quizzing people in a way where it led to open discussion and even started the year’s first improv session. That’s where you met a certain girl with the most freckles you have ever seen on her face. Her name was Ymir, and Ymir gave off a sarcastic and stoic vibe; but once you two were pushed together for improv, she turned into a completely different person. 

“You told me you were ready? I can’t help you now.” You mocked a look of disgust and crossed your arms across your chest. The both of you, you and Ymir, stood in the large room's center, where there was a wooden platform and a spotlight. The whole room was focused on the scene. 

Ymir was quick with a creative response, “You told me that this wasn’t long term. You told me that you still thought this was going somewhere.” The room filled with ooh’s and an “oh shit” was pulled from Hange, who was sitting on the top of a random desk close to the platform. 

Improv was definitely not something you were expecting, especially on the first day of classes, but it seemed to calm you down. Hange repeatedly told the class that this session needs open ends, the goal is to leave observers confused with no answer. “I never asked for this, this whole thing was ruined because your mother couldn’t mind her own business.” You say with false angry tears. The heat from the tears wasn’t there but the sting in your eyes felt all too familiar. 

—-

After your first class, you decide to text Sasha about what plans she has for the night while you lay on your bed. You don’t want to sit alone and bored on your first weekend at MIA. 

You: hey girl, what plans do you have for tn?

Sasha B: ayo girlll i got news from my friend about his band from MIA playing down at The Rocks downtown. Me my friends Connie and Jean and Nic are going if you wanna tag alongggg

A live band? That could be fun. 

You: shit you don’t have to ask me twice

Sasha B: bet ill be back at the room in 20 and ill get us sum food from mickey d's

You smile at the text and decide to scrummage through your unopened boxes from moving-in to get a head start at getting ready. You pull out ripped black jeans and a black silk top with thin strings holding it in place in the back, and then you decide on some black heels. Maybe black is your color. 

You grab your hair and makeup supplies and you start to decorate your beautiful face and let your hair loose. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you seem satisfied. You accessorize with some gold accents: rings, necklace, bracelets. Anything that you deemed fitting for the outfit. Sasha shows up 15 minutes later with her version of a five-course meal: McDonald’s. 

The three bags of greasy fast food were clenched in Sasha’s hands while she nibbled on fries, “What? McDonald’s is the fanciest meal before drinking.”

You couldn’t hold in the chuckle and you ponder on what she decided to get for you. You take a seat on the desk next to the beds and wait for Sasha to start her hand-outs. 

While the two of you are munching on the food and chatting, you’re interrupted by a loud and random set of knocks on your door. Sasha checks her phone to confirm it's her friends: Connie and Jean. 

Two tall men walk in after Sasha lets them in. The first one you notice is the taller one with a short ash-blonde dyed mullet with tan skin and a couple piercings on one ear. He had on dark semi-rimmed sunglasses and, what you’re assuming is on-purpose, ripped-sleeved black tank with white lettering of Embers & Stones that looks hand-painted. His heavy black boots almost touch his straight black jeans that seem to have gone through a lot. This dude looks… fine. Sasha introduces him as Jean Kirstein. You nervously shake his tattooed hand and follow the art up his arm to his face, which is smugly smirking at you. You were glad his eyes were hidden.

The second man doesn’t disappoint either, who you’re assuming is Connie. His head is shaved, but also had bleached tips, leaving room for his multiple face and ear piercings to be on full show. The ones that you could count would be a couple studs in his ears and a black eyebrow piercing on his right thick eyebrow. A new silver, shiny labret piercing sits pretty on his full lips. His narrow gray eyes bore into yours. He wears a black graphic tee with a rock band name you can’t pronounce with loose dark-washed jeans and black boots. His veiny hand stretched out to shake your hand had multiple rings decorated in a beautiful order, “Connie Springer.” You’re glad you wore all black for the occasion after analyzing your roommate’s friends. 

Sasha swiftly walks over to the dresser to start picking out an outfit for the night, “I wasn’t expecting you guys to show up so early.” She pulls out multiple items of clothing, looking like she is concerned. 

Connie jumps onto the couch that’s close to the door, “We had to since Jeany-boy plays tonight.” 

Jean finally pulls his shades off to show off his dark brown eyes to press his nose-bridge in annoyance and sits next to Connie with a huff. “Speaking of which, we never even got to rehearse yesterday because Yeager had to go to some chick’s crib.” 

Yeager? You look at Sasha expectedly, but she is still too occupied with her large pile of clothing. 

Jean notices that you are confused and gives you an apologetic smile, “Oh, by the way, Sasha’s best friend plays in a band.” Jean sarcastically gives Sasha a burning glare, for what you’re assuming is from not explaining. “I am definitely the coolest friend she has.”

Connie lets out a fake gasp and clutches his chest, “What? That is such a lie.” Sasha then lets out a loud laugh that leads to Connie grumbling on the couch. 

Jean laughs along, “See bro, she agrees with me.”

Sasha stands up with the outfit she finally chose and starts to walk to the bathroom with a sly smile, “No, you’re just the one in a band while Connie takes your picture. And to be honest, he makes you look way hotter than what you really are.” Jean starts to let something out but she slams the door before he can let a word out. 

You say something to change the subject, “So you’re in a band?” Smooth. Real smooth. 

Jean shifts his easy gaze over to you, “Yea, I started this band with my friend Eren in high school and it escalated to us performing in town bars and clubs. It’s pretty dope considering not many make it past the garage practices.” 

You become intrigued with his story, “Oh, so it’s just the two of you? And is it like a… hobby?” You slowly let out the last word, not knowing how to ask such a question. 

Jean grins at you and chuckles, “No, there are a couple others. Eren Yeager is our lead guitarist, I play bass, my boyfriend, Marco Bott, plays secondary guitar and sings - well, we all sing a bit - Mikasa Ackerman also sings and plays piano, and Armin Arlert is our drummer. And I know what you’re thinking - that this is just a fun little activity a bunch of 20-year-old wannabe emos do on the weekends - but I truly think that this is gonna go somewhere. We all go to MIA and study some type of instrument or another. I have confidence that my band members and I will get out of the bars and into some real spotlight at some point… if our members get their shit in check anyways.”

Jean seems to be actually stressed about this Eren guy. His head lays in his hands and a large sigh escapes his mouth, “I am just glad Armin knocked some sense into the kid and made him practice a bit before the bar opens. They are there now and we’d all be able to practice together if someone didn’t take five years in the bathroom.”

The boys and you look over to the bathroom door where Sasha pushes solely her hand out to flip Jean the bird. That makes everyone laugh. “I will take as long as I want, asshole.”

Connie stands up to stretch and steals a couple of Sasha’s fries that lay on her desk, “Yea, you always do when Nic decides to come with.” No sound comes from the bathroom. “Well if we are all done talking, I am ready for a joint.”

You perk up at the mention. You haven’t smoked in ages, especially since you just moved out of your parents' house. Maybe you should let loose before the night begins. You sit up so then you are in a better position. 

Connie notices that you sit up and a half-smile lights his face up, “You smoke sweetheart?” He pulls out a little aluminum container that used to be a mint-holder and a lighter. You wonder if the apartment complex gives a shit. Who cares?

“Hell yea,” you say with a large smile. 

Connie smirks at Jean who is lazily spread out on the couch, “What about you J? You gonna smoke before the big show?”

Jean mock-thinks by rubbing his hand over his scruff to his chin. “I don’t think so. I have to pick up Eren’s slack and I am driving Marco home tonight.” Connie fake gags to the news. 

Connie shrugs and opens his tiny container, “Your loss, you guys act like you are married with two kids and a golden doodle already. It’s gross.” The insides to his little treasure box include some rolling paper, a filter, and, from what little knowledge you know, some keef in a mini Ziploc bag. 

Jean rolls his eyes, “At least I’m in a stable relationship when you can’t even be with a girl for a week.” Connie scoffs but continues to put together his little joint.

He finally rolls it and attempts to light it, “Damn, it’s not catching.”

You, being your impatient self, chime in, “Lemme try it.” You quite literally snatch the pretty rolled joint from the handsome boy’s hands. He looks shocked but lets you have a go at it. 

You put the paper to your mouth and flicker the lighter over the rolled end. Taking a breath, you see it lights so you continue until you feel the thick smoke curl into your lungs, letting you know you hit the green. 

You let the cloud out with multiple short hiccup-like coughs, “There you go boo.” You hand over the joint all while you feel like your lungs are gonna come up, “Keep going before it dies out.”

Connie looks thoroughly impressed, “Nice one. Haven’t smoked in a while?”

Right when you were about to answer, the bathroom door whips open to reveal Sasha. 

“Alright bitches, let’s go get fucked up,” Sasha eagerly tries to put on her second heel on while she stands on the threshold to the bathroom. She looked gorgeous with a skintight and shimmery spaghetti strapped dress that stopped right above the middle of her thighs with black tinted tights and black heels. Her makeup was dark, but not too much where you wouldn’t be able to make out her features in the dark.

You notice Connie stares longer than everyone else but he is the first to respond, “Don’t have to tell me twice!”

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

This one never got to the point; it was inspired by Everything Goes On, and was meant to lead up to something bittersweet, but ultimately positive. The general idea was that, in being sent home, Rei and Ingo would lose their memories a second time-- so, in preparation, they were writing down everything they didn't want to lose, and the Hisuians they were closest with wrote them letters, too. Of course, once they were able to read those letters, the people in question would be long dead.

It never got that far, but I liked the concept.

---

While it was a normal battle format in Hisui, and one Ingo had made a point to become proficient in, he didn’t particularly relish three on one challenge matches-- not as the person commanding three Pokemon at once, that was.

He could do it, and was quite skilled in it, but it felt… wrong. Before he’d agreed to run Galaxy Team’s Path of Solitude, he’d thought it was simply because it stripped the battle of any challenge, but as Rei [challenged] him with the very pillars of existence, he began to narrow it down. While he could split his focus effectively, he didn’t like the distance from his Pokemon that it fostered; he preferred to dedicate his [focus] to a singular combatant, to hone in on the minutiae that effected a battle. Other people may have preferred more participants and a broader scope, and that was perfectly fine for them, but it wasn’t what he favored.

The spontaneity was engaging, though, and he couldn’t deny that. He’d had no prior experience battling titans, which meant that he had to rely on that information he could glean in the moment. It was a thrilling [challenge], and Rei loudly bemoaned the fact that, even with such an edge, he hadn’t been able to eke out a victory on the first try; he’d known that it would only get harder from there on out, once Ingo had a better idea what he was working against.

Even so, there had been some semblance of [familiarity] when Rei had called out the names of the Pokemon he’d intended to battle with. When he decided to pit “Arceus” against the Path of Solitude, Ingo hadn’t had a scrap of information to fall back upon-- with Palkia and Dialga, he’d at least recognized them from his work in the Celestica Ruins, and word of the shadow cast by Giratina had reached him.

When the hooved creature took form, he could do little more than stare.

He didn’t know anything about Arceus, but he knew it. He had no idea how he knew it, but it was terribly familiar to him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to send his trio of Pokemon out onto the field, and without anything to battle, the Pokemon’s attention caught upon him. A voice hummed, and it wasn’t something that could be heard on a physical level, but neither was it the telepathic speech that psychic types relied on-- it was as though it pierced directly into the core of his being.

“One had wondered what became of thou, when thine summons went unanswered.”

All he could do was stare at it numbly, scarcely processing that the words were directed at him. Somewhere in the background, he heard Rei ask a question, but in comparison, the words were fuzzy and indecipherable. It was covered up the rest of the way by a [?] sigh.

“It is within Dialga’s domain, now: the past. One must [concoct] a new mission to relieve thee of thine [outdated] duty, mustn’t one?” Its face didn’t move at all, and on one level, Ingo could sympathize with it, but his conscious thoughts were too consumed with the ambiguous memory attached to the being, followed by the words it wasn’t-quite-speaking.

Fortunately, he was the only one so [consumed] with such introspection.

“What… what are you talking about?” Rei asked, stepping forward to stand boldly at Arceus’s shoulder.

Finally, it looked away from Ingo-- allowing a desperate rush of air to fill his lungs, as he began to breathe again-- to favor the young man with its attention.

“Before thou were appointed one’s champion, one had selected another. He stands across from thou.”

“Oh,” / “Then we’re the same? You brought us both here?”

It inclined its head, and the dam of incredulity burst, allowing the flood of [thoughts] to rush forth.[elaborate] Among them all, one emerged above the deluge:

His voice was shockingly rough to begin with, made coarse by the tide of emotions lapping at the edges of his being. “If you were the one to chart our courses… you must know where our home stations lie.”

Rei stopped in the middle of mumbling something, and, belatedly, Ingo realized he might have interrupted. In the midst of [idk], he’d lost track of the conversation’s progress, and it had taken more effort to speak up than he might have expected, so his social awareness was somewhat lacking at the moment. It didn’t seem to bother Rei, who immediately turned his head to Arceus, so sharply it might have given him whiplash.

“Yes.”

[waterfallofspace]

Obedience.

Using ~this lovely prompt~ from the incredible @onetrickponi for our dear G/ojo. 

Inumaki Translation Key:  “Bonito flakes” -Negative/Negation “Salmon” -Affirmation “Kelp” -Greeting “Caviar” -Curse/Expletive 

Characters: G/ojo, N/anami, I/numaki, Y/uji, M/egumi, N/obara, P/anda, and M/aki. (All platonic) Word Count: 2.7k

(References to mild coughing, and swearing!)

~~~~~~~

Gojo Satoru is an infamous name in Jujutsu. 

Some of the most powerful curse techniques the world has seen, abilities matched only by his intelligence. Not a sorcerer in Japan would deny knowing of him. Yet, ask what comes to mind when you say his name, and power is not the first word to drip off their tongue. 

The exact vocabulary will depend on which lips you pry it from. Higher ups would call him a nuisance. His students may call him aggravating. Fellow sorcerers have been known to use the term irritant. 

No matter who you ask, however, the sentiment rings true. Gojo Satoru is a troublemaker who dances the fine line between ‘loveable’ and ‘prick’. 

As with everything he does, Gojo is skilled at walking the tightrope of annoyance. Most of the time he’s careful to be as close to exasperating as possible, without actually being insensitive, unless it’s to higher ups. 

Most of the time. Then there are days, like last week, where the line is crossed with someone the students care about, and a little payback is required. It’s Inumaki’s turn to get the honours, which he accepts with a graceful “Salmon,” and a smirk. 

This is how a few students find themselves squished against the school, eagerly peeking around corners to watch the scene unfold. 

“Kelp!” Inumaki calls, gesturing for his fellow second years to gather around. Maki leans against the wall, Panda dropping to the floor and getting comfortable. Standing a few paces away from his target, Inumaki’s careful to measure the distance. Close enough to be obeyed, far enough to stay hidden. 

Down the field, the demonstration is about to begin. 

~~~

“-which leads me to the best part, so Megumi has no idea I’m even there,” Gojo rambles, hands painting spirals through the air. “And I saw him duck into the candy store, which was on my list anyways, so I’m follow-” 

“Satoru, I believe you asked me here for help with a demonstration,” Nanami cuts in, glancing at his watch as he rearranges his glasses. “I clock out in less than an hour. Is this really how you want to spend the time?” 

Nobara chuckles from behind her phone, gesturing towards Gojo. “Pretty sure he’d be thrilled to waste it gossiping. Meanwhile there’s a sale downtown, so if we’re not gonna get to it..?” 

“You people are no fun,” Gojo whines, tilting his glasses to meet Nanami’s eye. “Especially you.” 

Nanami sighs, tapping Yuji on the shoulder and gesturing to Megumi. “Get his attention please.” 

“One of the most boring people I’ve ever met, Nanami.”

“Well then,” Nanami pauses as a whack- sounds out from behind him followed by Yuji groaning. Another sigh raises in his chest. “Good thing my self worth doesn’t rest on what an immature sorcerer thinks of me.” 

Still rubbing his head, Yuji walks back over, Megumi following behind, pointedly refusing to lift his gaze to the teachers. Gojo seems to consider this ‘good enough’, as he begins to get in position, still huffing slightly at the insult tossed his way. 

“Alright guys, and girls~” Gojo adds with a snap in Nobara’s direction, prompting an eye roll from everyone in the group. “Time to get serious. This lesson is about hand-to-hand combat, with no cursed energy.”

Nobara offers a noncommittal hum, clicking away at her phone. Megumi still refuses to acknowledge anything but the bench he’s sitting on. Hesitantly, Yuji raises his hand, waiting till Gojo points at him. 

“Uh- Gojo sensei, didn’t you just teach me how to add cursed energy..?” 

“Correct! However, that’s because you’re already quite strong on your own. Fighting styles will be important for your growth, but it matters less with your brute strength.” 

Pausing, Gojo gestures to Megumi. “Someone like him needs to be constantly polishing their hand-to-hand skills, since he lacks the physical endurance you naturally possess.” 

“Oh, I see! Because he’s not as stron-” Nobara giggles as Yuji massages the back of his head again, Gojo failing to hold back a snicker. Rolling his eyes with another deep sigh, Nanami takes his position, gesturing for Gojo to get on with it. 

“So, for this demonstration I will turn off my infinity so our dear Nanami stands a chance~.” 

“Why don’t you stop talking and get on with it?” Nanami retorts, nodding to his watch. “Forty-five minutes.” 

Finally starting to begin, Gojo lets infinity turn off, placing his hand on Nanami’s shoulder to demonstrate an opening move. Nobara glances up every so often, still typing away at her phone. Megumi stares at the ground, but his lips seem to be repeating Gojo’s instructions. Meanwhile Yuji simply stares, captivated by each new move. 

Just as Gojo leans forward for another exaggerated swing, something hits him. Or more specifically, his nose. 

~”Sneeze.”~ 

Normally a sneeze for Gojo is a slow building process. The itch will start small, just a prickle in his sinuses, before it begins to build into a full blown need. With this one, he barely has time to duck away, pinching his nose shut with a desperate gasp. 

“ah’NXGchh-! hePTTchh-! hh- kNXT’ch-! Oh, ‘scuse me.” Gojo swipes at his nose, frowning at the breathless sensation he’s left with. Normally stifling doesn’t relieve the tickle, but he should be able to do it with minimal effort. 

“You okay, Sensei?” Yuji pipes up, glancing over at Megumi for confirmation. He doesn’t seem alarmed, not bothering to lift his head from his arms, feigning sleep on the bench.

 A few sneezes isn’t usually something to worry about, especially not from Gojo. The man is notorious for his sensitive nose, not to mention over-the-top fits. 

“Yeah, just a bit itchy. Start again. Nanami?”  Nanami gives Gojo a minute to collect himself, then with a nod, takes his stance. 

~”You’re not done.”~ 

“yiEHh’shhieuw-!”

“Watch it-” Nanami jumps back, grimacing as the first one doesn’t miss his sleeve.

“I’m- hH’GNchh-! I’m so- hehh… heptNCH-!” Gojo dives into his hand again, attempting to gasp out what sounds like an apology through the onslaught. “What the he- inchh-! en’gzchh-!”  

The itch is in his nose, but the tingles spread throughout his whole body. As his head dips again and again, he feels each muscle tense. His skin is crawling. Almost like goosebumps, but invisible to the naked eye.

“Woah, Gojo sensei, what’s wrong?” A voice laced with concern calls, but all Gojo can do is hitch, dipping deeper into his palm until he’s practically smothering himself. 

“hedt’chh-! ah’KDNTchh-! God I have… haveto… heh’KNCHh-!” 

While he doesn’t understand exactly what’s happening, he can sense the cursed energy swarming his own. Being aware of every drop overwhelming his system only leaves him more sensitive to the intensely soft feeling burning through his nose. 

“Ew, that’s so gross.” Another voice chimes in, void of concern. Still, Gojo finds himself unable to reply, entirely consumed by the maddening tickle. 

“eh’tnchh-! knchhh-! hahh- DTXNchh’uu-!” 

Every breath brings another sneeze dancing to the tip of his nose, waiting to burst forth. His vision blurs, the stifles not seeming to do anything to stall the exasperating itch. 

~”Enough stifling.”~ 

And just like that, Gojo feels his hand release his nose. A panic begins to seep through his weakened mind as he realizes he didn’t choose to do that. Still, it’s overwritten by the insistent desire that’s not been quelled. 

“hiHyiEShhhiuew-! yishh’hieww-! hh- tnnshh’uu-!”

He manages to get his collar over his face, muffling the bursts into the rapidly dampening fabric. “heh’mPFShhyew-! mmfffshh’iew-! eh’mffshhiueww-!” 

The moisture lining his nose starts to match the oceans forming in his eyes. No amount seems to satiate the tickle. An average fit might last for a while, Gojo’s used to that, but those sneezes feel satisfying. With this tickle, each sneeze that frees itself just brings a new desperation, as if he’s allergic to the act of sneezing. 

And more than that, they’re coming out as his natural ones- “hh’iSHhhieww-! tizshhyueww-!” -fittish and breathy, with a desperate twinge. Much different then the over-the-top presentations he’d normally be putting on. 

“ek’tieshhhieww-! heHh- guhhh…” Only when he can get a breath in does Gojo realize everyone’s staring at him. A heat begins to rise to his cheeks, spreading up into his ears.

Nanami’s hand rests on Gojo’s arm, eyes seeming to study him carefully.  “Satoru, are you alright?” There’s a humour to his voice that Gojo finds quite insulting, despite the kindness of the words.

“I’b ndot-” He pauses, sniffling hard against his wrist. It only serves to irritate his throat, light coughs pouring out. Annoying as it may be, the cough does clear the congestion enough to continue the sentence.

“I’m not sure, but I think… oh wait- hH’yiEShhhuew-! nohhht… notover- ekyiEShhh’shiew-!”

Nobara pipes up this time, phone long forgotten. “That’s disgusting.” 

“ah’KESHhh’yiew-! Wow, thagnks for the sy.. sympa…hahhh…” Making the mistake of opening his eyes, Gojo’s met with the horrifying realization his glasses had fallen off during the fit. The whimper he lets out has even Megumi glancing at him in concern. 

His eyes water again, lashes fluttering against the bright sunlight starting to invade his sinuses. It burns nearly as much as the cursed energy, and Gojo only manages to cast final warning before ducking back into his wrist.

“So itchy… I’mb gonda keep… hh’yIEShhh’yew-! hk’kieww-! ahh’dieuww-! hH’tieww-!” 

The fittish half-sneezes leave him breathless. It’s as if his nose is too sensitive, unable to even form a proper sneeze from the depth of the itch. His eyes snap open, just to plummet back shut as the flash from Megumi’s phone sends him back into hysterics. 

“ihh’kieww-! tchhieww-! ak’tiew-! hh’diueew-!” 

Through the fit, he manages to catch Nanami pulling the phone from Megumi’s hand, muttering something about ‘he has it bad enough’, quickly followed by ‘send me those after.’ The burning in his cheeks deepens, and for a second he considers attempting to warp out of there. 

“ahn’chhuew-! kn’diew-!” That fantasy dies as quick as it was born. 

Grumbling under his breath, Gojo attempts to glare at them, failing spectacularly. “You’re all th- hnn’diew-! ekieww-! ahh’tIEShhuu-! The worst. hK’ENchhiew-! hheHh- guhhh…” 

“For taking pictures when you’re suffering? Wow, I wonder who I could have learned that from.” Megumi adds, taking his phone back from Nanami with a silent glare. 

“Sensei,” Yuji pauses for Gojo to let out another burst before continuing, “Is there anything we can do?” 

Taking a cautious sniff, Gojo manages his first full breath since the fit started. He meets Yuji’s concerned gaze, opens his mouth, and- 

~”It tickles worse.”~ 

-gasps, pitching forward with a full-bodied sneeze. There’s not even time to aim for his shirt, a light mist landing on the ground. He feels his teary eyes flutter, nostrils quivering against the unbelievable urge. 

Before he knows it he’s leaning over, hands against knees- “hH’djZSHhuu-! yiEShhhIHhew-! ahh’knZShhhyeww-!”  -sneezing openly towards the ground. 

At this display, Nanami and Megumi chime in with a matching “gross” as Nobara openly shudders, taking several steps back. Seemingly the only one not disgusted, Yuji steps forward, resting his hand on Gojo’s back as it trembles. 

“Do you know what’s going on, Sensei?” 

Despite having a pretty good idea, Gojo just offers a frantic wave. As his nostrils flare again, he spins away from the group, the attack gaining a harsher quality.

“kNZSHhhuu-! ah’DZSHhh’tiew-! Oh my- hH’EZSHH’uew-!” 

Gojo convulses again, intense sneezes continuing to assault his trembling septum as he wipes the tears from his flushed cheeks,

~~~ 

Across the field, Inumaki mimics the movement, Panda and Maki joining in with their own chuckles. The hilarity of his reaction leaves them almost as breathless as their target. Laughter of this pure a degree had become quite rare for them, and it almost made them feel bad about the torment. 

“Okay,” Noticing Inumaki gearing up again, Panda gives him a gentle nudge.  “You should probably ease up now. You don’t want him actually passing out.”

“Bonito flakes..?” 

Panda sighs, nodding at him. “Yes, you do have to.” 

From her position against the wall, Maki chimes in, “He’s gonna be so pissed.” 

“Caviar… Salmon, Salmon.” Inumaki agrees. Dropping his collar again, he gives one final command.

~”You have one last sneeze in you.”~ 

With that, the three lean back to watch the finale. 

~~~ 

“kshh’diew-!” 

Pausing, Gojo feels something change. The jittery feeling that had been spread across his body honed in on his nose, amplifying the tickle. As his hand begins to frantically fan his face, he feels the world start to fade away. Soon all that exists is him and the itch. 

For the first time in his life, Gojo feels like he might understand what it’s like to be trapped in Infinite Void. Every feeling seems miles away, and yet at the same time it’s touching him. Each breath is too slow, but he’s panting. 

Time seems to stop, nothing but the tickle remaining as Gojo tilts his head back, desperately looking for anything to bring this to an end. Any source of brightness to- there it is. 

If he’d had any vision, the light would have stolen it, but instead, mercifully, he dives into his hands with a final vicious sneeze.  

“heH’DIEZSHHH’kiuew-!” 

 Even Megumi chimes in with an almost concerned, “That was intense.” 

Gojo gives him a vague smile, pale cheeks stained with blush as he sinks to his knees, rubbing his nose with a ferocity that leaves everyone wincing. 

“Do you need to go see Shoko..?” Yuji asks, but Gojo shakes his head, still panting. Nanami kneels down beside him, draping an arm over his shoulders as he pulls Gojo back to his feet. 

Letting Nanami support his weight, Gojo clears his throat, his blush deepening at the congestion that lingers. “I thignk I’ll be fidne ndow. Just godda sleebp this off.”

“You sound awful,” Megumi mutters, grimacing as Gojo winks at him. 

“Awww, are you concerdned about mbee? Thadts so sweedt of you, Megumbi!” 

In response Megumi scowls, the expression slowly morphing into a smirk as he holds up his phone. “Well, I guess these photos just put me in a good mood.” 

As he passes it around, Nobara and Yuji start howling with laughter, even Nanami suppressing a few chuckles. Gojo sighs playfully, attempting to brush off the way his ears seem to burn. 

“I defignitely deserved thadt.” He laughs, before exhaustion deepens its hold, and he leans against Nanami with an uncovered yawn. 

Nanami chuckles again, this time unrestrained. “You probably did.” And with that, begins the walk towards the school, Gojo still unsteady on his feet. Behind them, Megumi joins in on the laughter, and Gojo sighs at the inevitability of those photos ending up online. 

~~~ 

Just before they make it inside, he suddenly pulls away, whipping as far away from Nanami as he can manage. 

“hiH’TIEShhh’diew-! ahhh’kesshhyew-!” 

They’re followed by a low moan as he rubs his nose half raw against his arm.

“They’re right, you know, Satoru. You really are gross.” 

“hah’inKEShhh’yiew-! Thagnks, Nadnambi,” Gojo says, sniffling hard against his wrist. There’s a mild laughter to his tone. “Woah, thadt’s hard to say. hH- oh fuckigg- hh’kiezshh’uu-!” 

“Bless you.”

The western blessing gets a full laugh, which quickly descends into a productive cough. Raising his watery eyes to meet Nanami’s stern gaze, Gojo chokes out, “How- ndice o- of you.” 

“Let’s get you to a couch to lay down.”

“Thadt would be perfegct.” 

~~~

Sure enough, as Gojo sleeps it off, the photos begin spreading. Unfortunately for Megumi, most people seem to share the conclusion that, even while in the grips of a full sneezing attack, Gojo Satoru looks gorgeous. 

By the time the next day rolls around, the post has gotten over a million likes. Megumi attempts to delete the post, but ‘StrongestSorcererSatoru’ reuploads it. 

A week later rumours are spreading through the Jujutsu world. Gojo Satoru horrific sneezing fit, Inumaki force to be reckoned with even for the strongest, but by far the most surprising, Gojo Satoru apologized for going too far. 

Seems even Satoru can take a hint when it’s of that magnitude. 

Inumaki notices a few extra stares being cast his way, but it comes with more than enough pats on the back to make up for it. 

Everyone loves Gojo getting humbled a little.

[enchantedlandcoffee]

Hey guys, this is my first fic rec post ever but I am going to try and do this every month to celebrate the amazing creators in this fandom. This months will include some of the fics I've read since the start of the year (unfortunately can't include them all because of how many there are).

Wild Love by purpledaisy (130k) -

Explicit - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Fake Dating AU - kinda)

"Good," Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. "Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?"

"We said we'd stay friends no matter what," Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

"That was our one thing going into it," Louis agrees. "Stay friends no matter what."

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, "That's all fine and good. But I hope you realise your emotions aren't going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you're not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I'm not saying you shouldn't do this, I'm just hoping you've considered all the possible outcomes."

-

AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Behind closed doors by bluegreenish @greenblueish (10k)

Explicit - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Friends with Benefits to Lovers)

"You should ask that whoever he's currently fucking."

Liam’s eyes grow wide.

“No.” His tone is unbelieving, just like Louis’ would’ve been if you had told him what turn today would take.

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

Louis’ room mate’s eyes barely leave him as he tries to untie his shoes without looking.

“Went to his dorm earlier, found a sock on his door handle. He’s such an arsehole.”

or, the one where omega Louis finds a sock on alpha Harry's door handle that causes a big misunderstanding but is also the beginning of something new.

Never Thought I'd Be Missing the Heat by larry_hiatus @larry-hiatus(5k)

Explicit - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Harry misses Louis AU)

Harry has always hated cigarettes, but when that’s the only piece of Louis that he has left after their breakup, he ends up chain smoking while touching himself to try and get that taste of Louis back.

You Can Hear It In The Silence by Imogenlee @imogenleefic(234k)

Explicit - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Roommates AU, Idiots in Love)

When Harry Styles received acceptance into a post-grad degree, he knew he could no longer afford his flat leaving him with three options:

1) Moving back into student halls. 2) Becoming homeless. 3) Moving in with his best (and only) friend, Niall, and three of Niall's other friends. He ended up choosing the third option. But it was a close race. Shame one of his new housemates reminded him why he only has one friend. If Louis Tomlinson had to choose one thing couldn't stand, it would be pretentious tossers, having grown up around enough of them. If he had to choose something he couldn't live without, it would be his friends. So he was proper thrilled to move in with his best mates and a couple of other lads. That was until he discovered one of them was the archetype for a pretentious tosser.

In the interest of seeing out the twelve-month lease without killing each other, they both try (debatable) to get along despite believing they were opposite in almost every conceivable way, each having the communication skills of a cucumber, and secrets that had no business be kept secret.

Will Love Be There by lululawrence @lululawrence (13k)

Mature - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Fake/Pretend Relationship AU)

Louis didn’t care who he had to pay or how much, but he was pretty sure he would give his entire life’s savings and a year’s salary if it meant that whatever was causing someone’s fucking phone to ring would stop.

The person calling must have gone to voicemail, because it stopped ringing and vibrating, but it started up again almost immediately.

“Make it stop,” Louis whined. He lifted his head enough to pull the pillow out from beneath it and smothered his head to dull the sound. “Oh shit, I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Just be sure to get out of bed first, please,” a deep, gravelly voice said from right beside Louis.

“Holy fucking shit!” Louis cried in surprise as he shot up in bed.

Or the one where Louis attends a Steve Aoki concert and accidentally ends up with a husband.

Devil in my brain, whispering my name by lunarheslwt @lunarheslwt (9k)

Explicit - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Angel/Demon AU)

“Tell me, angel, are you curious? To know what it’s like, to be touched…” Louis tapped his lip lightly, “here?” A short, harsh breath fanned across his finger. “Or,” Louis drawled, bringing their hips together with a sharp pull, making Harry gasp once again, louder, “here?” “Louis…” “Or maybe even,” Louis skimmed a taunting hand past the curve of his clothed arse, merely grazing, “here?” Harry shuddered viscerally. “Please.” “So polite, so proper,” Louis mocked, “will you let me taint you just a little, hmm? Let me show you how good it feels to give in to temptation?”

Or, Louis, a demon, shows Harry, an angel, just how good it can feel to give in to temptation and sin.

Wed'n Walk (Or, We Went to Amsterdam Together) by HelloLovers13 @hellolovers13 (11k)

Explicit - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers)

When Harry had first started planning his honeymoon to Amsterdam, he had not envisioned ending up there with his best friend.

Or getting fake-married to him for 24 hours.

Station 28 by justahappycloud @justahappycloud (10k)

General Audiences - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Enemies to Friends to Lovers)

Some people meet by accident. Two unassuming worlds that weren't supposed to even graze each other clash, and in an unexpected twist of destiny, they fuse into one. It's destructive. It's life changing. It's, unequivocally, a complete and utter mess. Darling, you are my favourite accident by far.

stars are just burning rocks in space by Red___PANdaa @red-pandaaa (21k)

Mature - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Strangers to Lovers)

He was fully prepared to end their short encounter there, leaving the boy to go back to the party and his life, probably already forgetting about Harry in the morning.

“Hey, this probably sounds really weird, but do you wanna get out of here?” Blue Eyes asked, finally letting go of Harry’s arm.

Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. “Doing what?”

The boy’s eyes sparkled as he answered, “go on an adventure!”

OR

Where Harry and Louis meet at a party and spend the night together.

Teach me how to love by perfectdagger (sincerlyste) @perfectdagger (70k)

Explicit - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers)

Louis can’t believe he’s third wheeling, again, so he scans the bar trying to find something better to do.

And as he does, he recognizes a face.

That face looks angry, almost fuming and Louis takes a gulp from his beer and looks to the other side, pretending he didn’t even see the bloke, pretending he has no clue who that person coming over his way is.

“You’ve told everyone and their mother that I’m a bad fucker?!”

That’s how Harry greets him.

Smooth.

Not really.

The one in which Harry is bad at sex and Louis spreads it all over town and to make up for it, decides to help him with no agenda of getting anything from it, but in the end, he ends up getting more than he bargained for.

[fe-fictions]

Any more Felix to share!!!

(How about Felix getting possessed!!!!!)

After the war had ended, you were finally safe. Dimitri had come back into himself, and was a fine king. Peace and unification was spreading all throughout Fodlan, but one problem remained.

Those Who Slither were still active. Underground, but very much alive. 

Dimitri had assigned you and Felix to this task; a very humble king had bowed before the Archbishop, requesting the Church’s aide in his mission.

You accepted without a second thought. Felix wasn’t thrilled with the idea of helping Dimitri, but a fight was a fight. He’d been itching for some battle (even if he wouldn’t admit to it).

So you were on the way to the first location, a secret bunker that was deep underground, filled with confusing tunnels and venues that you weren’t sure led to anything good.

No, it was very clear TWSITD weren’t done.

At most, they were regrouping. Planning their next attack, and who to work through in order to do it. The Adrestian Empire was long gone- now it was just a matter of who to choose, next.

You and Felix subdued them quickly, your militia of Blue Lions following without hesitation. 

The scouts were removed first, Ashe and Annette quick to locate and purify any curses or traps they detected, and it was a stealthy, swift method of thinning their numbers quickly.

When you were finally discovered, though; that’s when the real battle began.

Felix fought like Hell beside you, and it’d be a lie to say you weren’t impressed. The man had insurmountable skill, and it pleased you beyond measure to see him so elegantly destroying the enemies in his path. 

It was going flawlessly, with minimal injuries. 

But things never went this well. You exchanged a glance with Felix as you took down the last mage in sight. Something was off.

You pushed forward with great caution. The tunnels were best described as catacombs, dark and difficult to navigate through for fear of getting lost.

There was no telling what was lurking around the corner. 

Felix noticed the light first.

There was a flicker on your left side, targeting you from behind a pillar meters away. He gasped, grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the way. 

Magic erupted from the catacomb, slamming into his chest. Felix flew backwards, nearly taking you with him.

“Felix!!” 

Your voice echoed after him, his body crashing into the wall with an unholy crack before he crumpled to the ground. Your heart dropped like a stone. You moved to chase after him, but the cries of panic from your comrades stopped you.

There were dozens more of them. They were closing in around you.

“Defensive positions!” You shouted back to them, gripping your sword tight. You rushed down the corridor, reaching Felix’s body. He had managed to push himself onto his hands and feet, but he was shaking violently.

What did that mage hit him with?

“Are you okay, Felix? C-can you stand-”

“No,” His voice was mangled. He sounded violently strained, the convulsing getting worse. You touched his back, but he struck your hand away.

It stung with the sudden violence, shocking you. 

“Felix…?”

“Get back-” He curled in on himself, blood oozing from his lips. A curse mark glowed red on his back, bright and dangerous. “I c-can’t control-”

“Professor!!” Annette’s cry forced your attention away from him, “Get away! It’s a curse!!” 

When you turned back, there was a sword swinging towards your face.

With a gasp you stumbled back, barely keeping your nose. He didn’t skip a beat; he struck at you again and again, each attack more violent than the last.

You could hear the Lions scrambling to reach you, but none could give aid. You were outnumbered, and they needed to defend themselves before they could get to you.

Those Who Slither had created the perfect trap.

“Maintain!!” You shouted back to them, unsheathing your sword to block Felix. A violent clang resounded in the darkness, the sparks illuminating his face.

His eyes were flooded with black magic; Felix himself was nowhere to be seen.

You steeled yourself with a sharp breath. His strength was multiplied, the curse fueling him to complete his mission. You needed to take him down before he reached the rest of the group. 

You clashed blades back and forth, refusing to give even an inch of room. The space was small, doing all you could to keep distance between him and the rest of the Lions.

They were preoccupied with those mages; if he was to enter the fray with them, it was only a matter of time before his strength overwhelmed them.

He nearly had you beaten. 

The way he was hitting at you, it was as though he were trying to cut through the blade, itself. You could feel the handle biting into your skin with every assault.

Each time you could see his face, the deeper your heart sank. He was so far gone, lost deep in the magic. 

But he wasn’t lost.

“Felix-” You hissed his name, teeth grit as you bore the brunt of his strength over and over. “I know you’re in there. Y-you have to fight this!”

“......”

“If you don’t, everybody dies-”

His breath stuttered, a millisecond’s hesitation before he lunged at you again. Your eyes widened at the sight. 

He was fighting.

“We have to find the mage that cursed him- if we defeat them, we can stop the curse!” Annette rushed to tell you, breaking away from her duel to come to your aid.

“Can you find them?” You grunted as you absorbed another blow. A distorted growl fell from Felix’s lips. 

“Yes.” 

“Go,” You charged Felix, forcing him off balance, “I’ll keep stalling!!”

The battle was dragging on too long. Every time you started to get an upper hand, Felix’s possession gave him an inhuman strength that you didn’t know how to handle. It was far too much for you to handle. He was going to overwhelm you if it kept going. 

Every parry, every counterattack you launched, he was beating you back. 

The critical strike fell when he struck his blade close to your hilt. The crack of bone reverberated in your body. He broke your wrist.

You cried out, your hand numb as pain rocketed up your arm. Felix smashed the sword from your hands, disarming you. He swept your legs out from under you, sending you to the ground.

“Professor!!” Mercedes’ panic alerted the Lions. The Archbishop was in dire straits.

“Quick, someone- gah!” Sylvain took a blast of magic to the shoulder in his panic to get you help. They were still struggling. 

You hadn’t given them enough time.

Felix would attack them from behind, while they were distracted and unable to defend against the mages and their possessed ally. 

You had walked straight into a trap...and you were going to die.

Felix stood over you, the sword quaking in his hands. 

“Felix...p-please…” You choked out, clutching your wounded hand to your chest.

The sword rose over his head, preparing to take yours. His whole body was trembling, but it was no use. It was clear the power had overwhelmed him. 

This was the last you’d see of your husband. 

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. There was little anyone could have done. If only you’d seen it before him. Maybe something could have changed.

Maybe-

“Raaagh!!” 

Your eyes flew open at the clanging of metal. The sword clattered to the ground from Felix’s hands. The cry had echoed through the catacombs, catching the attention of enemy and ally alike.

Felix remained standing, if only for a moment, when his eyes returned to their natural color. He spared you a weary, frightened look...and then he crumbled to the floor.

“Got him!!” Annette exclaimed from far away, waving frantically to get your attention, “The mage is down!! Is Felix-??”

“He’s…” You trailed off, returning to your husband. He wasn’t moving at all. With a cautious touch, you inched towards him, your fingers barely brushing his back. He didn’t slap you away, not this time.

He was breathing, but unconscious, you realized upon turning him over.

Blood seeped from his lips, staining his skin and clothes. His expression was troubled, as though in a great deal of pain. There were tears that trailed from closed eyes.

But he wasn’t gone.

“He’s alive.” You croaked, bringing some relief to the Lions. It was time to end the battle. With Felix’s curse removed, you could at least try and finish things against the remaining mages. 

Shaken by the loss of what you presumed to be their leader, they started losing the upper hand. 

You returned to the Lions and assisted in bringing about swift justice, refusing to let them escape. There would be no survivors. Not after what they did to your husband.

It took longer than you wanted it to, but the battle was ended, and the enemy was extinguished. Everyone was exhausted, in no shape to be fighting any longer and in desperate need of medical assistance.

The trek back to camp would be longer than the journey to your mission, but as everyone hobbled back, eventually you were able to find relief. 

You followed alongside Sylvain’s horse, Felix carried alongside his oldest friend.

Ingrid helped him bring Felix down, and the pair carried him to the medical tent. You followed to be treated of your own wounds, your wrist pain flaring angrily now that the adrenaline had subsided and you were once again safe.

You sat beside your husband and waited patiently for him to wake. Ashe set your wrist, wrapping it tightly while Mercedes worked to mend the bone.

Your eyes remained on your husband the entire time.

“Don’t...don’t worry, Archbishop. He’ll be all right. Once we get him cleaned up and patch his wounds up, he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

You smiled at Ashe, though it was far too weak to be reassuring.

“I appreciate your comfort. I’m afraid my concern isn’t his recovery; it’s his reaction once he wakes.”

He nodded in understanding, the rest of your healing done in silence. Your gaze remained fixed on your husband, taking his hand in yours. 

You decided to stay with him until he woke up. Once he was with you again, then you could allow yourself to feel relief.

Until then, all you could do was wait.

-------------------------

“...eth…”

“...y...h!!”

“...By...Byleth!!”

“Byleth!!”

You were startled awake by a loud voice in your ear. It was almost a command. A cry. 

You woke suddenly, finding your neck and back stiff. You’d leaned against the bedside and fallen asleep beside Felix.

But now there was a hand tightly squeezing your shoulder, and you were staring into the tearful eyes of your Felix.

He was awake.

And he...was crying…?

“F-Felix…”

“The hells is wrong with you-!” He took your arm and yanked you forward, crashing into his chest. His arms were bound around you, squeezing you tight against him. You could feel the trembling in his fingertips, almost clawing into your skin.

He clung to you for all he was worth. His breathing was ragged, as though desperately trying to keep himself together and he was failing miserably.

You reciprocated his embrace without hesitation. 

“It’s okay, Felix.” You whispered, kissing his neck chastely. “It’s all right. I’m here.”

“I could’ve killed you.” His voice was a mangled growl, cracking and breaking off at the end of his nightmarish realization. “I almost took your head, and I-”

“Shhh, love. Shhh…” You stroked his hair, which had been freed from his ponytail and was a tangled mess like the rest of him. But he shook his head. 

“I couldn’t fight that damn curse. I tried...so hard...I was worthless. I c-couldn’t do anything, a-and I…”

“It’s not your fault.” You murmured, “None of it is your fault.”

“It was like a nightmare.” He sucked in a sharp breath, desperately fighting the whimper that escaped his lips. You hugged him closer. “I was watching you fall by my hand. It wasn’t like a spar. It was a fight to the death- and you almost lost.”

“Annette found the mage in time, and I was able to hold you off.” You reminded him gently, but again he shook his head. He swallowed thickly, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t go away.

“You don’t understand, I-I...Byleth I couldn’t fight it. I had to watch you lose. You could have died by my hand-”

“Darling…” You cooed, gingerly slipping from his arms. He stared up at you with such a hopeless gaze, it nearly broke your heart in two. 

Tears were streaming down his face, the brokenness in his expression haunting. You had never seen such a thing, before. You cupped his cheeks, holding his face in your hands with the sweetest smile you could muster.

“You did what you could. No one blames you for what happened. You protected me from that curse, and we all walked away from that battle victorious. I’m sorry you had to experience all of that. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and to think you had to suffer through it...I’m so sorry.”

Felix looked away, his hands clenched into the blankets. You stroked his cheeks tenderly, wiping away the droplets that followed. 

“But please...please don’t blame yourself. What you suffered was cruel, and out of your control. You did a wonderful thing, protecting me. I will forever be grateful for that.”

“But I…” He took your forearm, looking down at the bandages around your wrist. “Look what I did to you. Imagine how much worse it could’ve-”

“It wasn’t.” You reminded him, interrupting the spiral. You covered his hand with your own, drawing his gaze back to you. “I was hurt, but I’m healing. I’m grateful you didn’t do worse, and you should be, too. What matters is that I’m here, now, and you’re all right. There’s no need to worry about the hypothetical.”

“Hm…” He was dejected. “I...want to believe that. I just…”

“You suffered greatly.” You understood his pain, squeezing his hand softly. “I know you can’t wipe it away that easily.”

“I just...I need time.” He huffed, lowering his head. Wordlessly you shifted closer, and held his head to your chest, embracing him with the gentle, loving touch that only you could give him. A touch that saw his breath hitch, and his eyes fill with tears once more.

“Take all the time you need, my love.” You whispered, welcoming his trembling embrace once more. 

Felix choked back a sob, clinging to you for dear life.

“I-I’m...so...glad you’re still here.”

Drops of rain fell into Felix’s hair. You held him closer.

“I am, love. I’m here.”

“I’m not losing you, too.” He whispered weakly, but the fire of a solemn vow burned beneath his sorrow. 

“Never, Felix.”

A kiss touched his forehead. 

“I’ll always be here.”

[isthepame]

Blue Lock VS. U-20 JAPAN Serialised Interview, Part 5

Akihisa Wakayama as Shuto Sendou – "To put a character named Shuto through this in a football series… it’s almost cruel!"

a (voice of Shuto Sendou): Having been part of the football club during my student days, I was absolutely thrilled to be part of a series about football, and as the ace of the Japanese national team, no less. Honestly, when I auditioned, I didn’t have a clear image of what kind of voice or performance would fit this character. I thought, "This role will probably go to someone else." So I was genuinely shocked when they chose me—it was completely unexpected.

Interviewer: As the forward for Japan’s U-20 national team, what do you focus on when portraying Shuto Sendou? Are there specific aspects you kept in mind during recording?

A. Wakayama: Within the context of the VS. U-20 JAPAN arc, Shuto’s role in the story is to highlight the strength of Shidou and Sae, who are new additions to the Japanese national team. Because of that, there’s inevitably a sense that he’s there to play the underdog. However, I made a conscious effort to ensure that Shuto doesn’t come across as just a weak player or an unlikable character.

Shuto is an incredibly skilled player who was chosen for the national team on merit. My interpretation is that his strong sense of self-love, combined with his confidence and pride, is what drives him to clash with Sae and the Blue Lock players. We worked on creating a well-rounded version of Shuto, including his relaxed personality as a young footballer in everyday scenes. The production team and I fine-tuned the character together on set, so I hope viewers enjoy it.

Interviewer: In Episode 5, Shuto makes his debut, only to immediately be on the receiving end of harsh words from Sae Itoshi and has his head slammed into a desk by Ryusei Shidou. What are your thoughts on this scene, and do you have any anecdotes from recording it?

A. Wakayama: For Shuto’s very first scene, to be subjected to such awful treatment right away—I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. To think that a character named Shuto in a football series would be put through something like that... Blue Lock is truly terrifying! (laughs) Actually, I wasn’t able to record this scene with Mr. Nakamura and Mr. Sakurai, so I didn’t get to hear those harsh words directed at me in person. I have to admit, I was a little disappointed about that! (laughs)

Interviewer: In the official commentary, it was noted that "he’s not just there to be a stepping stone." Could you share what you personally find appealing about Shuto Sendou and what aspects of him you like the most?

A. Wakayama: At first glance, based on his early actions, he might come across as a bit of an annoying character who’s quick to bite back. But in reality, I think Shuto is one of the most relatable characters in the story, showing a lot of humanity that resonates even with us as viewers.

When Shuto reaches a turning point, he becomes incredibly cool. His sensitivity and insecurities—like his fixation on titles or his relatively fragile mentality—are reflective of someone his age. Add to that his tendency to be teased and his surprisingly endearing qualities, and he’s honestly a character with a lot of charm. For me, these aspects make him truly stand out.

Interviewer: Finally, what do you think viewers should look forward to in the upcoming U-20 Japan National Team match?

A. Wakayama: How will the Blue Lock team, composed entirely of strikers, hold their own against the Japanese national team, which is made up of top players in every position? How will the players from both teams evolve during this match? What will happen in the showdown between Rin and Sae as brothers? And will Shuto be able to demonstrate why he’s considered the ace of the national team?

From start to finish, this arc is packed with highlights. I hope everyone enjoys it week after week!

Interview by Chihiro Sasamoto.

Edited by Inari Ogawa.

Translated by isthepame (X)

Source: animateTimes

[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated : APRIL 1996

Who’s Better? Our 10-Point System Reveals The Answer! Shawn or Bret?

Transcript Below!!!

[No one knows who’d win a match between Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels today, but we do know it’d be one heck of a contest. See if you agree with our analysis of what could be one the greatest encounters in WWF history]

[Michaels has a few dazzling moves in his repertoire, including the “Frankensteiner” (above left), but Hart (above) is a more solid and versatile technical wrestler.]

When Bret Hart defeated Diesel at Survivor Series to capture his third WWF World championship, many of his fans said there was no longer any question about who the best wrestler in the WWF was. It’s “The Hitman,” they said. There are other fans who say Hart didn’t prove that at all. Many are ardent Shawn Michaels’ fans say they still have no doubts that their man, the three-time former Intercontinental champ, is the best in the Federation. 

For months, fans of both have been looking forward to settling the issue in the ring. They’ve wrestled each other before, but not with both men in their prime. Promoters were hoping to put it together early in ‘96. Then Michaels collapsed during a November 20 match. Suddenly, not only his career, but his life was in danger. Still, it is likely that these two greats will square off in a battle for supremacy up the line. Michaels is determined to return, and Hart is determined to prove himself a great World champion. 

In a sort of preview, we’ve rated Hart and Michaels in 10 key categories. See if you agree with our analysis.

POWER

Neither Hart nor Michaels is a powerhouse in the classic sense, but each knows how to use his strength to full advantage. Typically their opponents outweigh them, but Hart and Michaels are rarely overpowered. The long hours in the gym have aided them in their ring endeavors. Hart is stronger, but not by much. 

Edge: Hart

SPEED

Even The Kid has a hard time keeping up with these two; Hart and Michaels are among the quickest men in the sport. To avoid those big men, they need to be fast. Michaels, however, more often uses his speed as a weapon and is quicker to string moves together. He dazzles foes with his ability to bound off the ropes and attack them with flying forearm smashes or superkicks before they can think about responding.

Edge: Michaels 

AGILITY

Both move around the ring well. They are well-schooled in the art of avoiding their foes’ best moves. Superior agility is one of the things that makes Hart and Michaels so great. For Michaels, it is more of an advantage. Against all sorts of foes, he has demonstrated he is truly a fine athlete. So is Hart. The advantage to Michaels is not a significant one. 

Edge: Michaels 

SCIENTIFIC SKILLS

Hart and Michaels are masters of the game. They have trained with people who know the sport better than anyone. Both often end up brawling, but they have the wherewithal to contest a purely technical contest. Michaels, however, never prepared himself in “The Dungeon,” the basement in the home of Bret’s father, Stu. It was there Bret was forged into one of the finest mat technicians ever. He knows more leglocks and armlocks than Shawn, and we’ll take his “sharpshooter” over Shawn’s superkick as a finisher. “The Excellence of Execution” is for Hart the perfect motto. 

Edge: Hart

AERIAL ABILITY

Michaels prides himself on his ability to soar. He enjoys executing flying bodypresses and flying elbowsmashes and gets a thrill out of leaping off the top turnbuckle onto an opponent. In fact, it seems as though he would be more comfortable wrestling that style more often. Hart, too, has a solid aerial game, though it’s not a great part of his repertoire, and he is not particularly quick in coming off the top rope. 

Edge: Michaels 

ABILITY TO ABSORB PUNISHMENT

No one questions the toughness of these men. They have been brushed and battered, but they never retreat. As Michaels recently demonstrated, he is too willing to stand in there and take the abuse. Part of Hart’s immense training was learning to prepare his body to absorb hits. He even seems to gain strength from the ordeal. 

Edge: Hart

[The “sharpshooter” (above) was the difference in some of the Hart-Michaels matches in ‘92, but Shawn had Bret on the ropes a few times (right). He’d need to use his edges in speed and aerial ability to beat “The Hitman” today.

STAMINA 

Tell most wrestlers there’s a good chance they’ll be in the ring for 30 minutes and they might ask for a forfeit. Hart and Michaels are different. Both have the condition to last 60 minutes, and they’ll do it without running out of energy. Hart, though, is better at pacing himself, so he usually is fresher in the late going. Michaels’ faster pace would slow him just a bit near the end.

Edge: Hart

INTELLIGENCE

Aside from being stellar wrestlers, Hart and Michaels are dedicated students of the sport. They spend a lot of time working on their own weaknesses and scouting potential foes, and they know how to use that gained knowledge in the ring. Though Michaels rarely is outsmarted, Hart is better at thinking his way through the match, attempting to stay a step or two ahead of his opponent. Michaels sometimes shows off too much. 

Edge: Hart

RESOURCEFULNESS

During so many contests, both Hart and Michaels look like losers, then suddenly rally to earn a victory. It isn’t difficult for them to come up with that one critical maneuver that turns the match in their favor. Michaels’ craftiness was apparent during his tremendous struggles for the Intercontinental title. 

Edge: Michaels

WILL TO WIN

Both men hunger to be champions and stay champions. In the process, Michaels put his life in jeopardy. The  difference here is that Hart has tasted WWF World championship glory; Michaels has not. “The Hitman” has pushed himself to that next level against incredible obstacles. No one doubts he wants the ultimate prize; Hart has just wanted it that much more. 

Edge: Hart

[Shawn held his own against 7’ Diesel at WrestleMania XI this year (top right), but we think Bret. who showed surprising strength in recent bouts with The Undertaker (right), would have the edge in a brawl.]

***

Determining the outcome of this contest is not a matter of simple arithmetic. We gave Hart six categories and Michaels four, but that doesn’t necessarily mean Hart would win the match. Instead, let out analysis be a guide to what will be a classic encounter, and what may be a legendary one!